A child is born, its a happy event. The mother, especially, is over the moon with what happens. The infant grows, crawls, walks and the rest you know well. At some point they meet a man who says “There you are. It took me ages to find you. I have to tell you something”. He then goes on to reveal you are actually related.
“Preposterous” you respond and regale the tale of you being the only seed of your folks. He simply shakes his head and says:
“You have countless siblings, you may have forgotten us but we always remembered you were missing” as he launches into an alternate rendition of how you came to be:
“When you were born we were real happy because we could feel you would be the key that bought something we couldn’t currently comprehend. Little did we realize how bitter this pill would be to digest because a nurse at the hospital was very manipulative and jealous. She switched you out whilst mother slept and placed another child in your stead. When she rose she knew immediately this wasn’t her kid and not long after this another parent complained of an empty cradle and thus the jig was up. That was where your tale begins because this wicked witch absconded with our sibling and flew off to a realm, far distant, where she raised them surrounded by lies and deceptions about everything that came from then to this very moment'”.
You feel confused and manipulated. You can’t tell if the man in front of you is the cause or effect of this because the inside of your head is screaming with all the tales and images of her lavishing affection on you and the rest that slots together to create your concept of Self. The very fact this is under threat is enough to make most run, yelling, for the hills but, for some reason, you entertain what he said. There is an air of familiarity in his tone, something you recognize in his eyes and a nagging silence within that insists that you listen.
“Tell me you truly feel at home in these lands, so dank and miserable compared to where I left on this trek to come find our sibling”. He goes on to detail a place thats so wildly different that you can scarcely imagine nor comprehend how it would feel like to live in such a situation.
“Wait, say that again”. He looks at you, subtly shakes his head and then drops an absolute bombshell:
“I don’t repeat my Self but why don’t you imagine you went some place else and when you landed you discovered they charged you for air. Thats right, breathing wasn’t free and its a “for life” kind of deal. Well, tell that to the rest in this land where you get a water bill and pay for every other step as well. At this rate I won’t be surprised if they start charging for oxygen. This place is not your home and that wicked witch on her false throne is not the one to whom you were born as she is nothing but a pretender, a liar and thief that bought you to this world for reasons of her own by tearing you from the arms of one who has never forgotten and sent out all of her children to bring back the one that was missing. I am just the one that happened to make this meeting and thus what I’m saying is a true representation of what happened and you are welcome to come with us back to your place of origination”.
“Tell me more about these lands” you say, intrigued but still skeptical as this could be a new type of fraud or some scheme designed to swindle you for a pretty penny. He skips this question and asks one him Self:
“Haven’t you ever noticed that she does little things that feel like the mask slips, every now and then?”.
You are taken aback by this because here is a total stranger revealing something that is intensely personal. Of course, you get defensive and deny this but he says:
“Look, I know you better than you know your (false) Self. We all do because we still have the resonance of connection she worked so hard to extinguish and I can tell you exactly how she did it. When you first stepped into this land as a jit…”.
“Whats a jit?” you said as you’d never heard that term or reference:
“A conqueror, a Warrior, one fresh with the wavelength and in total resonance to the state of Inner Sense“.
“Hah! “Inner Sense”. I like this. Its a play on words on innocence, correct? Go on, I’m listening”.
“Well, our Prime state is one where you’re totally fearless. She is the exact opposite because she knows what she did and thus her affection was tainted but to assuage herself she projected these things unto you and thus punished what you accepted, without question, as she kept limiting your reality testing until it became a huge Game of “Simone Says…” and you did, as instructed”. A reel of images had been spinning in your head along with a string of emotions that were being threaded in your chest as your gut, previously silent, started nodding in resonance because you remembered well the guilt trips, the punishment and threats as well as countless other things that had caused your glow to dim. You also recollected how scared you were that she’d withdraw her affection and how you were willing to do anything to keep her smiling, even if that meant biting your tongue and stifling your crying.
“Fear doesn’t exist where we’re from. This is her world, her land and its why she was barren. Jealousy drove her to do what she did as she infiltrated our kingdom by ways of deception and was helped by a banned band of unhappy men that wanted nothing less that to make others as miserable as them”.
Your mind is spinning by this point as things you can’t comprehend mix with parts you’d never imagined as well as the solid and visceral sense that this man is remarkably honest. That and there is something so familiar about him and the things that he says because you did wonder, once upon a when, if you were adopted. You even asked her, once. That was enough as her reaction was intense and its with this thought in your head you ask the man who represents himself as kin:
“What is my true mother like?”.
His face melts with a grin and says “She is the all of everything. Rich, abundant and generous. One of her favorite sayings is “No one ever became less by sharing what they possess” and its not just how she lives but is a base resonance that extends throughout all of our realm”. A sudden rush of recollection kicks in and you remember the time, as a kid, when she’d bought you a gold necklace as a gift and you’d given it to a friend because you didn’t like how it felt and he admired it.
“She screamed and yelled, said I was ungrateful as hell and how she’d worked so hard for this”. You drift and recollect for a bit and the pains in your chest from when she said you’d disrespected her affection and tore her heart to shreds feels as real and visceral now as it did then. You can tell that something that was previously open had now folded in and would never shine again as she dragged you by the hand to your friends and made you demand he returned the gift that she says wasn’t yours to give. The man who may truly be your sibling or just fibbing holds aloft his water bottle and says:
“Remember, they’ll have you paying for oxygen soon in this false realm because she can’t create and thus only taints what is natural in order to make them bow and scrape to a fake that pretends to be the true queen of heaven”.
What would you do next, in this situation? Really stop and ponder this, my friend. Take it to the logical depth and then dive dive in the deep end of the seas of intuition and listen to your feelings in this example. Could what the man says be correct or is this truly some kind of trick? How could you tell? Would you want to know? Better yet, would you accept ignorance as bliss and wish you’d never answered the door when he came knocking? Think about it, for a moment. Write down your observations and choices, maybe reread the text and truly let it sink in and feel the feelings it brings swimming into your awareness before proceeding.
The false mother, the thief, the deceptive one who is jealous and filled with dread at the thought of you seeing through her tricks is the same one that wrapped the skin around your unfinite consciousness and launched you into this realm. I am the sibling that brings this message from your Prime point of origin that you didn’t previously know you were missing as you walk around this land of illusion wrapped in confusion whilst being fully invested in delusions that were programmed into your head as they disconnected you from your chest with all kinds of fear based programming designed to keep you helpless.
Ranging from the depths of hell to the almost daily threats the news pumps to your set as well as that voice in your head that says “Pay no attention to any of this. You and me are the same thing, identical, friends from now till the end. Don’t listen to this idiot trying hard to swindle you with this trick” and countless other things that make your life a thick slice of living hell laced with a thin layer of frosting that tastes magically delicious and feels heaven sent for the time it rests on your lips. Then the rest is the bitter pill you must digest because the simple fact of this realm is that fear is the oldest and strongest emotion felt by all those plugged in to its construction and this drive is mercilessly exploited by the intelligence at the helm in order to force compliance via threats both blatant and indirect that are manifested via various agents and institutions until people accept death (like taxes) is inevitable and thus beyond question and not worth introspecting.
The real terrorism is the fact you have to pay rent.
Really think about this and tell me I’m lying and whilst you’re pondering this consider the fact that everything from your coffee cup lining to the air they’re letting you breath free (for the moment) is laced with all kinds of endocrine disrupting things plus forever chemicals and plenty of other bits and pieces designed to ensure you remain plugged in to the narrative its pumping because anything that is kept constantly stressed, misdirected and then is amused to death will exist in a state of immense disconnection from its true Self and with that gnosis of its predicament and what the hell actually happened to get them caught up in the mix via the underhanded shenanigans of the architect of this realm that may have built what you live but thats after they stole it and molded it in their own image by pouring its own thoughts and fears into your head.
Tell me I’m joking or does the Game of Souls have you, my friend?
If I am the messenger then this is the message.
Till we meet again
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