I’m finding the articles are getting harder and harder to write. What needs to be said is more and more challenging. My desire to hide under the bed is growing and growing.
But I signed on to go through the process of Ascension publicly. This is my job. And even if I look like a fool, or a braggart, or a nincompoop, this remains the job I must do.
I’ve shared this with one other person and, usually when one does, one breaks through a psychic barrier and it becomes easier thereafter to share with others.
I don’t share this to draw attention to myself. I have no need for attention, no need for life’s rewards. I actually do know that I’m finished with them.
Indeed I wish I didn’t feel the need to share it. But transparency and the path of awareness demand it. Here is that share.
I feel so much power inside of me that I feel constantly frustrated, constantly suppressed, in danger of developing an ulcer unless I find a way to let it out or express it fully and healthily.
I’ve been denying this feeling for most of my life. Not mysteriously (any more), I have also been battling with anger a great deal of my life, which I attributed to my Dad’s violence and my mother’s unfortunate death. But I’m only now coming to see that the source of that anger is very, very different.
The source of this anger is that I do not know a healthy way of letting out the degree of power I feel bottled up inside of me. And I’m afraid of it. And I’m ashamed of it, like it cannot be discussed, leaked out, referred to or be known.
And I only say this because it might be something you recognize as well and because I sense saying it is in some way important to Ascension work.
I’m aware of an energy inside of me so big that I’m loathe, even scared, to acknowledge it. I was told about one of my past lives and the minute I heard it, I said “Yes!”
I don’t discuss past lives because one can be the butt of jokes for doing so. So I’d rather not that this one be communicated, and I say this to those of my friends who know it. Please don’t seek it out. But allow me this degree of privacy, if you’d be so kind.
But the person Archangel Michael named is a byword for what he described as “will directed to action.” What he did in his life has become associated with audacity. Not like I’m that audacious this lifetime. I’m not. But there is a streak of … I’m not sure how to describe it … that arises at times and completely throws me. And when it does, I’m not sure I handle it very well. And certainly others around me don’t welcome it.
There’s a feeling that exists inside of me that often roils around. I see now that the anger I’ve felt all my life is a suppressed, repressed, and mismanaged sense of this feeling of will or power. I am angry because I’m in a complete state of disorientation when this feeling arises within me. I’m angry that I feel I cannot let it out, angry at myself that I hide, angry that I “know” what will happen if I let it out. I show up as completely confused in this situation.
Don’t forget that for the first forty years of my life, I was mildly dissociated so most people who knew me back then would probably say “Are we talking about Steve?” Overcoming that dissociation, which resulted from my Dad yelling at me at around age seven, was like a life assignment that released that willpower.
When AAM named this historical figure, there began for me almost immediately a process of assimilating the information which, to this moment, has me feel close to craziness. I believe this discombobulation is why our guides are reluctant to reveal this kind of information to us.
Regarding this feeling of power inside of me, I could immediately see evidence of it. In my karate days, I used to look for situations on the street. I disarmed a man who came at me with a knife and I did so with a smile on my face. It was as if I enjoyed it. I had no fear of death.
A fellow once belted me in the eye when I had my coat half off. I was defenceless. I finished removing my coat and then took him down and again noticed a steely quality in myself that was a mystery to me. But it now makes sense to me.
At age 64, I walked into the hall of this building to see two people threatening the manager. I pulled one man out of the building by his hair. The other one squared off with me and I stared him down. I’ve been told that I have a glare which frightens people. All of this now makes sense to me.
When I accused the cabal several years ago of a long list of crimes, I attached my address and phone number to the article. (Scared the heck out of a relative.) I remember the icy determination I felt when I wrote another article detailing the crimes of the cabal (“I Accuse”). Again I did not know where this sense of determination came from.
I used to describe myself as a kamikaze. Wherever there was trouble, I was drawn to it. I never for a moment suspected this hurricane inside of me. And I never knew how to tame it. (I shudder at thinking how I will handle this information being known. I’ll probably create expectations I can never meet.)
It’s not any easier today but at least I now understand it. I have lived almost all of my life in a state of inner turmoil because I’ve denied and not known how to express this quality inside of me.
This is definitely not a lifetime in which I was to repeat the same experiences, but nevertheless there are traces of this former life that make themselves known at times.
Now here is the final irony. AAM described another lifetime in which I was a religious figure of exactly the opposite temperament. Go figure.
And now the sharing becomes even more difficult. And I’m almost red in the face and want to run away and hide forever. But I have to push myself because I think describing these matters is important. Perhaps if you can see the difficulty I’m having, it may make what awaits us easier for some. In a sense, I suppose, I’m going first but I’m only doing this to make it easier for the next person. This is very hard.
I may have told you before that an attempt was made in 1979 to measure my IQ and the psychological-vocational consultant ran out of IQ tests. I scored perfectly on the highest IQ tests he had.
I had an interview with the consultant afterwards and what he told me caused my eyes to glaze over. He said: “I don’t think you understand what I’m telling you. Your IQ compared to the average normal’s is the same as the average normal’s compared to a man who cannot control his bowels.” (Whatever that means.) But, no, I could not take in what he said.
I asked Mensa Canada to look at the test results and tell me if the gentleman who did it was a complete incompetent and a loony. I received back a letter saying “Welcome to Mensa.”
Why do I mention this? Because I don’t think I’m unique. Heavens, we’ve been posting videos of Jackie Evancho, of boys who consistently sink baskets from perhaps hundreds of feet away, of seven-year-old children who play the piano flawlessly. Folks, these are us.
All through my early life, I was related to as if I was a freak. No one understood me. Only later did I discover that it was because I spoke in latinate diction. It wasn’t until a colleague threw a banana peel over a divider and said to me, “Steve, speak in Peter Rabbit English” that I cottoned on (pun intended) to what was happening. Ever since I speak in the simplest of words.
I’m being slowly awakened by Archangel Michael and certain galactics which I’ll refrain from naming at this point. At first they told me something that was so outlandish that I laughed.
Later I asked AAM if they were kidding me and he said they were not. Again that information sent me into a tailspin and I’m still assimilating it with difficulty.
All of this is just preamble to saying this to you: Folks, we do not know who is here. We are going to get the biggest surprise of our lives when the masks come off. I know that the masks cannot be taken off all at once. They have to be removed gradually.
When AAM agreed to tell me six of the eight lives I had lived, it sent me into a tailspin. It was like having six people inside me wanting to get out. I can say that one was a mathemetician who at the end of his life asked Archangel Michael to grant that he never needed to be born as a mathematician again. I hate math! I almost throw up when confronted with math. I cannot even figure out modest sums in my head. But at least now I understand why.
AAM will not tell me two of my lives and I can imagine why. In fact I don’t even want to know them if he’s reluctant to say. I have enough on my plate already handling the information he did convey.
But the point is this: It’s the same for you. Ask not for whom the bell tolls.
And don’t go putting me on a pedestal. That’s senseless and the exact opposite of what should happen. If you really need to put someone on a pedestal, which is unhealthy to begin with and only leads to a fall, then for heaven’s sake, put yourself on one. Because you’re about to find out that you’re a masterful individual. (Listen. They pay me to say these things.)
I know I’ve said this before, but you have to realize how important, how necessary this share is to me. It’s like I saw the treasure buried in the field and now can do nothing more than sing and shout about it. And I have no desire to buy that field. In fact I’m freely sharing its existence with others.
There are others known to me who could say exactly the same thing. It wouldn’t be right of me to share their circumstances but they would be as unusual as mine are.
How many of you out there have felt a tremendous feeling of power inside? How many of you know you know the deepest of mysteries, even though at a surface level you don’t? How many know you’ve played a decisive role in some circumstance, even though you can’t quite put a finger on it?
Monday on An Hour with an Angel, AAM discussed how the Third-Dimensional energies are very, very dense. I chimed in about the human body being dense and he said that too.
We’re mired in the La Brea Tar Pit at the moment. But when the energies rise sufficiently, we’ll be out of the tar. For heaven’s sake, hold a particle of faith back for you being absolutely flabbergasted at who is here. That who is you.
OK, I’m going to run and hide. I’ve shared to the point where I feel almost too embarrassed to face the day. But if you got from this share that we don’t know who is here, we really don’t, then this burning embarrassment will be worth it.
I’m increasingly becoming a recluse because what I’m coming to know has me feel more and more like a crazy person. And sharing it only invites embarrassment on top of craziness. Nevertheless sharing it is what Werner Erhard would have called “full self-expression” and “sharing a withhold” the hiding of which ties our power up in knots. I have to admit that I feel better for coming out of the closet, even if I feel agonized at the same time.
I’ll probably hide away for a day because I feel so exposed and fragile. But at some point I must discover how to bring these qualities into my life so as to make them useful to me and to this work we do. Right now, whenever I allow them even a little bit of expression, I do things which others say devastate them, rip their faces off, etc. So I don’t know how to let these qualities out safely yet.
So if my behavior is bizarre at times, please realize what it’s like to be told these things a wee bit ahead of many others. There’s no one to say these things to. Most of us aren’t writers. As excruciatingly embarrassing as a share like this is, at least I can say it. Many others have no one to share it with and no obvious way to share it.