This is Why
A lot of parts and pieces of my story have fallen into place over these last 20-some years. The constant searching unrest, the burning desire to understand “why,” the dismay at never-ending religious discrepancies, the all-too-human attributes of “God,” the suspicion that I actually DO have a say in the choreography of my life – all this and more has been answered, fulfilled, and laid to rest. Life makes sense now. I know from whence I come, why I’m here and where I’m going – and not because some ‘authority’ told me so. The knowing is as real to me as my experience of this day.
It’s been an incredible journey, but like any grand saga, there have been pitfalls, traumas, misdirections, and disasters on the way to the grand finale. When I first listened to Atlantis Rising (now part of the Wound of Isis series), I remember being awed and horrified at the stories Tobias told of the times in Atlantis. They struck a very deep chord in me; I knew I’d been there, and my very cells were remembering both the wonder and the agony.
Over the years, Atlantis became a common topic with Tobias and Adamus. I gradually collected more and more pieces of my story, along with the inevitable awareness that some of those old lifetimes weren’t always on the “right” side of history. During one of the sessions in Threshold, Adamus finally spelled out what I had begun to grimly suspect: it was us – me and my beloved Shaumbra friends – who created the headbands in Atlantis, bringing about helpful change but also too many dreadful consequences. And we’re back now, trying to make things right because of the guilt we still carry. I remember going outside to be alone after recording that session, barely able to breathe. He said it clearly, “Your wounds, your guilt from times long ago are bigger than most human’s.”
It all came up again when Adamus talked about Hapiru in the October Shoud. This is not some fanciful story of a faraway place long, long ago. It’s our story. It’s MY story. I am Hapiru, and I’ve fought those righteous battles with as much passion, conviction, and oblivion as anyone. The problem is, they are battles. Power is seductive, revenge always beckons, and the impossible “rebalancing” of an eye for an eye simply never ends. Even now, writing this I must ask, am I fighting for the wars to end? Am I battling the battles?
It’s a daunting question.
What I know is that nothing resembling the past will help, only wisdom.
In a dream a couple nights ago, I was at the war in Israel. I wasn’t a human on the ground, but rather “above” the melee, no doubt one of many entities offering presence and assistance. In the dream I noticed some very strange beings. They were black, roundish, globby-looking humanoid things, perched as if on a scaffold or viewing platform overlooking the battle, and were singularly occupied with keeping it going. If a human “on the ground” took a pause to wonder about the violence in which they were engaging, these beings would poke at them in some way, goading them to keep fighting. Intent on never allowing a moment for reflection or inner questioning, these strange beings were equally active on both sides of the conflict.
They were fixated on the scene, aware of very little besides sustaining the fight, like poking at the coals of a fire to keep it burning. As I became aware of them, they paused, staring at me with empty, malevolent eyes of darkness and reactivity. I felt them waiting, almost daring me to do something, anything, to which they would then respond with yet another blast in the human realm. They didn’t really care what was actually happening on the ground, only that the “fire” continued to burn. I looked back at them with a steady neutral gaze. Nothing happened. Like a cat with nothing to chase when the mouse doesn’t move, I didn’t try to stop or change what they were doing, so they had nothing to react to. A flicker of confusion crossed their strange bulbous faces, and I woke up.
Those beings are also Hapiru. Neither evil nor good, they are simply living out the family pattern, unaware that it’s an old, tired game that’s getting nowhere. Stuck on repeat, oblivious to consequences, they were only primitively conscious of their actions. Like children jabbing at an anthill, entertained by keeping the ants in a frenzy; if the action ever slowed, another poke was all that’s needed.
A few days before writing this, I returned from a perfectly wonderful 10-day vacation. I visited family, made new friends, immersed in nature, and enjoyed the disconnection from my routine and the world’s problems.
A couple of the new friends are 2 and 5 years old, and I got to engage with their innocence and wonder, as well as their penchant for drama. When a child becomes fixated on a forbidden object or dangerous activity, a good parent learns to distract them with something new and interesting, rather than punish or struggle against the child’s desire. I happily watched as dad didn’t bat an eye at the toddler’s screams, simply offering another toy or activity to draw their attention.
And now the penny drops.
Could it be that the solution to all this war and trauma is… distraction? Hunkered down in darkness, those clueless angels know only the repetition of what they’ve been doing for eons. But when a light comes on, bright new potentials might capture their attention.
Ending the wars is not about finally winning – or convincing or overpowering or reasoning or any other form of duality. It’s about offering a brand new experience, one so beautiful and enticing that the weapons are dropped, and the fight is forgotten. It works; I watched it happen again and again between the kids. (I also saw how trying to use reason or power just made them scream louder.)
Those nonphysical beings stuck on autopilot are nothing more than childish angels who have yet to earn their wisdom. They’re like tired and cranky two-year-olds, fixated on the one thing they know how to do – bashing on the anthill for the little rush of drama that feeds them. Like toddlers, they don’t yet know what wonders await when they finally turn away from the game. But we do.
THIS is why joy is revolutionary. THIS is why it’s critically important to live our best life right now. THIS is why, dear Shaumbra, guilt and suffering must go. It’s time to offer something new to our sibling angels who are still playing in the dark. They are going to love life as much as we do – if only we show them how magnificent it is.
This is not the time to play dumb and clueless, acting as if we still don’t “get it.” We are the ones who got fed up, said, “No more” and created Earth to figure it out – and we have. Now it’s time to step out of the lab back into reality – our true reality where nothing hurts or dies – and dangle a bright, shiny new life in front of the rug rats. It’s not about changing the frenzied fighting ants; they – our beloved fellow humans – really do want to return to peace and order. And it’s not about taking away the toddlers’ poking sticks or putting them in timeout. It’s about saying, “Hey, look over here! See what I found!”
Shine bright, play hard, love deeply, dear Shaumbra. Give up the shame and fear, because it’s the bright and shiny treasures of your joyful life that are changing everything.