Friday, January 9th, 2015 – Bitter cold in Atlantic Canada.
My friend Doug Otterson posted the end of his novel ‘An “Un-Remarkable” Girl’ on Tablo.
My favourite artist drew and tweeted a drawing she felt moved to create for #JeSuisCharlie:
“#JeSuisCharlie / Nous Vaincrons” -We shall overcome- by Cathi Harris
And I went to talk to my future daughter, Evelyn (?) in my Higher Self Corridor:
— Adventures in the higher realms:
— Yes, we’ve been shaken again by the Charlie Hebdo massacre. & Yes, we can see both sides of this.
‘Perspective’ from “Meanwhile in Canada” — While it looks like evil ice-holes are manipulating public opinion to divide and conquer — Please, do not lose your heads and jump on the bandwagon.
— Lately, I failed and fell asleep every time I’ve tried to prepare myself to climb the spiritual stairs to consult with my higher self, or my daughter from my next life, my finer angels or whatever is actually there- I haven’t gotten through the process of clearing away the tensions and distractions before I could climb those stairs. I was relaxing, preparing for another try, when I thought about sending Evelyn a message, “Are you upset with me because I haven’t been able to connect with you in a couple days?” And, received the answer I was not expecting, “Yes, I decided never to talk to you again-” with the unexpected humourous realization that she was indeed, talking to me. I was thinking about saying, “I really need a two way conversation here-” when she answered, “We have that, don’t we?” — ‘Wow, I guess we do.’ I can feel something, I get the very strong impression that after praying that only positive communications, positive inspirations, positive connections with positive angels and ‘beings’ that Jesus and God would approve of, she’s there. She’s telling me things I do not expect to hear, she really feels like she has an existence beyond my imagination.
— So far, every time I’ve been there, she’s been a kid, somewhere in the nine to twelve year old range? – it’s hard for me to gauge, kids were younger longer when I was growing up- but this time, she looked more like a 17 year old. I had recently felt almost compelled to write a story about a runaway girl who had almost been forced into prostitution by the idiot who convinced her that he loved her, introduced her to the adult world of making love and then forced her outside in the pouring rain and told her if she didn’t come back with at least fifty dollars, he would give her to the thugs he has protecting him and let them rape and do whatever they felt like with her. I didn’t know how preposterous the story line I came up with might be, whether me trying to find a happy ending for one hopeless kid would ever make a difference to anybody, whether the story could eventually be any good, or good enough to get out into the public consciousness. I was wondering if my future daughter, who apparently knows more about what I’m doing than I do, would approve, or be appalled, or what. I was truly shocked that she would appear to be a seventeen year old when I expected her to still be nine years old. I betcha every parent out there knows that feeling. You blink and your tiny cherub who was struggling to learn to walk is grabbing the car keys and charging out the door, coming back home with a lover and asking for your blessing to marry, or your understanding that, since you blew it, they don’t trust marriage and feel that seeking God’s Blessing, ‘living in love’ and, by human standards, ‘living in sin’ – is the way they want to go.
— The last couple times we’ve been together up there, we’ve gotten down on our knees, facing east, and prayed. She is almost always on my left side, I often hold her hand as we get down to kneel. This time, as soon as we were kneeling, getting ready to pray, not knowing what I might pray for, if anything, I glanced to my left as I was holding her hand and saw a very bright cone of white light blasting her- so white, so bright I couldn’t see her face, I couldn’t see much above the knee socks she was wearing. And they were odd, they were striped, in the kind of colors my mother would choose to wear, a creamy off-white and a subdued, almost greyish tan. She asked, “Why are you doing this to me?” and I was shocked by this, I said, “I don’t think it’s me-” and she was surprised and we both wondered who might be doing something like that. I thought it was some kind of highly protective blessing.
— I came away from this believing there is somebody waiting for my next life who loves me unconditionally. Somebody who is human and was human and knew me before, and might be some kind of official guardian angel’s consultant or something. ( I really don’t know enough, or remember enough, about what actually goes on in the ‘next world’ or the next higher levels to feel like I understand what any of this is all about. )
— I’ve had interactions with a kind of awesome entity who just might be my higher self. I’ve felt the presence of ‘angels’, ‘archangels’, and what felt to me like ‘Undeniable Representatives of the Divine’ – Jesus was not the only one. I don’t know if I would recognize Moses if I bumped into him while not quite looking where I was going or whatever. I don’t believe that God would only send hope and salvation to a tiny percentage of His Creations. It’s painfully obvious to me that dark hearted men -mostly men- have tried to pervert and hi-jack the messages brought to us by Jesus, Moses, Muhammad – God Bless All of The True Prophets – And that those dark hearted individuals had a dark agenda and meant to warp the messages we receive toward their own evil ends. Jesus said we can all find God and listen to our inner directions and the bad guys try to tell us, no, we need to be ordered and pushed around and conform to the whims of idiots who have convinced us that they know the only true pathway to God and we have to pay them dearly for their services. I believe that Muhammad wanted His daughter to have a lot to say about how His message would be shared with this world, and greedy evil power mad men re-wrote the basic tenants of Muhammad’s message to give themselves huge amounts of power and tossed Muhammad’s Daughter into poverty and shame because she was a woman.
— I could be wrong, and I’m willing to learn. I might not believe that I know enough about this subject until I’ve had a nice long conversation with my Creator, and that might not be possible while I’m still breathing the polluted air and eating the poisoned GMO foods that we apparently are stuck with down here in this day and age.
— God Bless Everybody who is trying to find their own way, and God Bless Everybody who is trying to show us the truth and help us find our own ways.
— Billions of paths lead to God, and almost everybody believes they know the only way. “Do your Dharma – Do your best, let others argue and confuse themselves to death.” I wish I could remember the original quote and who said that.
— Amen –,
~~~~~ Jim
