Baking in the Oven, Sitting in the Sun

Move a little to the left. You’re blocking my sun.

What was it Khalil Gibran said?

God “kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.”

I am indeed assigned to his sacred fire and well on the way to becoming bread for his feast. I feel myself slowly rising in this brick oven of the Transition or Great Awakening.

I’ve never been so busy in my entire life and yet here I am, smiling away. Ordinarily I’d be having a heart attack, gulping down stress, my neck so stiff I could barely move. And yet here I sit, calm and relaxed, having a wonderful time, with half a million tasks to complete.

Yes, indeed no prediction made to date has come true. I was party to one recently that also may not come true. Hang me high.

No, I don’t hear the sounds of cavalry hoofs when I put my ear to the ground. I apply it to the rail and don’t hear the troop train miles away. No fleets in the sky. No packages, revaluations, no nothing and no tips on anything coming that you could rely on. I’m afraid I’m here all alone for yet another week.

And I feel great.


All smiles

I said to my wife today, “Look at this face.” This face is beaming. This face is shining. Inside I feel myself simmering in joy. Do you get how risky it is to say this? I’m just waiting for someone to write me tomorrow and pop my balloon. But I can’t help the fact that I still feel tremendous.

So, yes, no signs of progress or movement in the outside world but the temperature is rising inside of me. And the dough is gradually turning into bread.

Sri Ramakrishna once said, “make yourself bait to be swallowed by some great fish.” I’m bait. I’m not dangling on the hook. I’m swinging on the hook, shouting at every passing fish, “Hey, here I am. Swallow me. Swallow me.”

NESARA has not been declared. The galactics have not arrived. War still rages in parts of the world. But there’s no war raging inside of me. I’m rapidly becoming the change I want to see. With very little hair on my monkish head, I’m having one good hair day after another. I’m unfolding like a flower and almost too shy to have anyone but my wife look at me. But if you did, you’d see this happyface that just won’t quit.

I apologize. I’m not as concerned about NESARA and Disclosure as I probably should be. But I just feel too great to get down about very much today. Maybe tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll hit a trough. Maybe I’ll drag myself around in the throes of one giant incompletion pushing its way to the surface. Maybe my world will collapse. I don’t know.

But if this is a taste of the future, then the future looks pretty darned good to me. Ascension is gradual? The ride is as good as the destination? That sounds great to me. Sign me up. I’m enrolled. Save all your toys and give my portion to the guy across the street. I just feel wonderful sitting here.

Alexander the Great once told a sage: “I am Alexander. I can give you anything you want. Just ask me.” And the sage asked Alexander to move a little to the left. He was blocking his sun.

Today I know exactly how that man felt.


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