Notes to Self in this Collective Dream.

Make no bones about it, there is something big in the works and if you don’t know that by now, it is now only you adding onto your loss. The season isn’t over, it only just began. The grief in your smile, the tears in your laughter, the way your work about you in a whirlwind of preoccupation just to numb the knowingness you carry within and outside of your spirit that it will all be better than this. It couldn’t be so if no one accepts it, yet just as they cannot see what you’re seeing beyond the veil, you cannot know who or what is in acceptance on this earth. The only thing you can accept is that you’re aware of what’s happening behind the curtain.

You speak in your sleep or out of laughter. Nightmares of the paranormal. As above, so below. So within, so without. Your current state is happening elsewhere. Centrifuged that sucker right on into simultaneous existence. Nearly, barely missed it. They’re here because you’re there. Shedding past fears that anything can get you. You are the master creator in everything that lays beyond that void. Being handed the torch, as of yesterday. You earned it.

Writing it out deliberately, yet poetically and profoundly, begins this rhythmic intention and manifestation of seeing what you are being shown. Takes guts, kiddo … to sift through the past visions, dreams and claircognizance to explain the future, when you’re somewhere suspended in between.

You have to remember, they are always working for you, beside you, through you, with or without you. Always on your behalves.

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