By Vili Aguirre
Five months have passed since Heaven’s Cross, and I can tell that something is definitely changing within me. And, as usual, it has nothing to do with anything I might have expected. Back in March, I was feeling quite balanced in general. Other than relatively mild physical discomforts, I thought I had dealt with most of my aspects, emotions, and suffering, and that the Apocalypse could be sort of smooth. Oh my! Me and my quick assumptions. Pretty soon, I found myself riding a rollercoaster I thought I’d left behind.
A few years ago, I had a dream in which I was in a very old house. It was mine and I was about to move to a new place. A part of me resisted leaving, so I did a few final rounds making sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. I had loved it there, but I would never be back. Finally, I took a deep breath, went down the doorsteps, and started to walk away. No looking back, I’d decided. But an unexpected, deafening uproar stopped me. I turned around to see the whole structure collapse behind me. I was shaken when I realized it had been standing there only because I had been inside.
I trembled with fear. All that remained of that once beautiful home were only the memories of my experiences there. Undoubtedly, there was no going back. I recovered a bit and continued to walk into the open fields. I was supposed to know where I was going, but in truth, I realized I did not really know where I was headed.
A dreamtime friend showed up next to me and his company was reassuring. He was wise and fun, and seemed to know better than me where were we going. Out of the blue, I found myself in front of an impressive but peculiar building. My friend ushered me in, and then left, wishing me to enjoy exploring my new home. He didn’t leave without reminding me that he was going to be on call should I have any questions.
I stepped outside, stressed and definitely not enjoying. I thought of my friend, and he was magically there right next to me. “What’s up?” he asked, as if everything were totally normal. “This is nuts!” I shrieked, “Nothing is fixed in there. The floors, the stairs, the windows, everything moves! I can’t live like this. It makes me dizzy! I don’t like it!”
I was both intrigued and excited, wandering around the various rooms, astonished at first by the elegant simplicity of the furnishings. And then, all of a sudden, the floors began to move. I looked around, and nothing was fixed! I thought I was hallucinating but this house was made of moving platforms. I could step from one to another safely, but it was also really stressful. I wanted things to stop moving and be stable like in my old house. It was maddening, and I started feeling dizzy because nothing stayed still.
He looked at me with compassion but, in my irritation, I rather felt he was being condescending. Why shouldn’t I be angry if that was totally not what I was expecting to find? My ideas about my new home had been radically different.
“Things looked great when I entered,” I complained, “but I don’t want to live in this constant motion!” He replied, “This is how you designed it: flexible, light, creative. I suggest, my dear friend, that you go back inside and take some time to become familiar with the place and learn how this house will make your life easier and a lot more fun. You only have to want something, and the motion will bring it to you. I recommend that you relax so that you can get used to constant change and motion. At some point, you will not get dizzy anymore, as it happens when you travel by ship and get so accustomed to the movement of the ocean that you don’t notice it anymore. Don’t resist it, just flow. I know you’ll end up loving it!”
I remember myself sort of understanding but pouting against the house as the dream faded away…
Just like in the dream, my life has been like a series of moving platforms after Heaven’s Cross. Knowing that emotions are the attempt of the mind to emulate real feeling, whenever I’ve felt myself flooded with various emotions, I’ve tried to let them go, releasing them to the chalice of my soul, hoping that somehow, I would get rid of them.
I was also angry at me for not being able to do anything about it, until it dawned on me that it was time to receive those emotions as a part of my energy. I had been fighting them in an attempt to vanquish them forever. I was denying an intrinsic part of the human template, and now was the time to receive it as a part of me. When I opened myself to my emotions as they were — no fighting, no healing, no improving myself — I could also feel into a part of me that was clear, emotionless but not absent. It was almost like… peace.
I have become more and more aware of the energetic role of emotions as gravity. In the old house of my dream, my usual emotions were not so apparent because they were part of the glue that was keeping it all together as my story, as my identity. But once the un-gravity kicked in and the building blocks of my reality began to spread out, the emotions that used to thread my stories together got exposed, and a part of me did not like it at all.
Un-gravity facilitates flow and motion, and I have to admit that I am not fully used to this yet. I feel freer than ever but have also been afraid that I might really be losing it. The fixed points of reference I used to rely on are no longer here. However, in the constant motion, I can always find myself when I state, “I am here.” That is the only thing that is fixed amongst the many other moving parts and pieces; it feels safe. And my dreamtime friend, the Master, is always on call with wisdom and a compassion that no longer annoys me.
I know that all the changes I’m going through are my design and creation, and I am here to fully experience them, no matter how disoriented I might get sometimes.
In these past few months, when people asked me how I was, I have often answered that I was feeling good, but weird. Emotional and emotionless. Not a bad feeling, just strange and new, uncomfortable at times, delighted also. “I feel gooeird,” I’d like to reply now, meaning that I feel good and weird at the same time, catching up with constant motion and un-gravity, and starting to enjoy the features of my new home.