Updated: Oct 19, 2022
This morning I opened one of my 2020 notebooks/diaries. I just felt the intuition to do so. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and opened to a random page. Curiously (or obviously!) what was written on the open page was exactly what I needed to read.
Still following my intuition, I flipped the notebook backward (screw linearity) and found even more beauty and clarity: a poem written on a spur of passion.
The date of this poem is July 4, 2020.
It was written at night, I remember that night with delicious nostalgia, and I even want to travel back in time and feel again like that girl in wonder looking at the moon... I am no longer that. I die along the way, new Selves are born, consciousness expands, and I can no longer live in the limited world I lived in before. That's why it's fun to visit it and kiss the chubby cheeks of that human so hungry for more light, for more conscience, for more and more truth, more freedom, for flying free through the sky! And in that sweet little kiss, I whisper: “everything's okay, you're doing everything right. I Am Here."
The night in question was a cold winter night, I was probably wrapped in a blanket so that a hood formed over my head, and I felt like I was wearing my Merlin cape.
I was with Master Lucyah in the backyard of our house, receiving the radiance of the moon, and creating an Absolutely Magical Space of Pure Joy and Expansion. Turns out we had just participated in Shoud 11 of the Passion series, and the Merabh "Waking from the Dream" had instant effects.
I remember with great affection that the Shouds of the year 2020 largely coincided with the full-moon phase, so for a few months after watching the Shoud together, we stayed in the silence and sensuality of the illuminated nights, allowing the energies to move and embodying the beauty of the message we received. Sometimes we even discussed our favorite points and illuminated wonderful potentials, but there is something more to the night I am sharing today.
That night we allowed other dimensions to come to us.
The backyard was another place. The structures - the matrix - seemed ridiculous.
Any illusion was a reason for laughter: this night is a laugh full of wisdom.
We played like kids! We communicated in silence, with smiles, sighs, or loose phrases, wondering if the other was also feeling that magic.
At some point, I felt like I needed to write in my notebook. I left the backyard for the living room, took my black pen in hand, and began to channel my own wisdom. I wrote some pages of pure inspiration. The irony is that I have read these pages many times after that, but only today have I been able to perceive the essential beauty in the words and energies expressed there.