Breakfast and Frappuccino on the house, with Sitara in Bellingham
I’ve just come back from the Bellingham, WA Meet-up, which went from 2:00 in the afternoon till 8:00 at night.
A six-hour meet-up. I’m not sure I’ve ever been at one like it.
Bellingham is around 100 miles south of Vancouver.
I come down to Bellingham by bus and usually stay an extra day so that Sitara can fatten me up.
I haven’t seen such a committed bunch of people before. I apologize to the group that I didn’t take a group picture; next time I will.
People continued sharing and doing healings on each other and on distant people for perhaps two hours after the meet-up formally ended. But there was a coalescence that occurred that greatly inspired me. Bellingham is one special place.
I also saw the potential of meet-ups in general at that moment. My private, unsubstantiated opinion is that soul groups are forming and we saw an example in this beautiful and spiritual town in the Pacific Northwest.
After the Reval, Sitara, who focuses the group and holds the meet-ups at her house, intends to see that there’s not one homeless person in Bellingham. Others are intending to build healing centers, promote new building techniques (hempcrete is an example), (1) open innovative, alternative restaurants, etc.
I spent an extra day with Sitara reviewing our plans for our projects (and sumptuously eating). We swapped documents, discussed ancillary services, and helped simplify each other’s approaches.
I can’t wait for another month to pass to see them again.
I was very sad to see that one person did not return from his first appearance last time, a man named Terry. Terry suffered burns to most of his body. Really intense injuries.
The accident occurred when he was six and his brothers were playing with matches and kerosene. He rounded the corner exactly when the vessel with the burning kerosene tipped over – onto him.
Terry shows no trace of resentment or self-pity. His mission in life is to assist other burn victims to move from suicidal feelings to finding an active, productive and inspiring life for themselves in the world.
Terry will of course entirely recover his original form upon Ascension. How amazing it is to consider that. But what’s more amazing is what he’s done with his situation in life up to now. I was uplifted to hear his story and hope we see him again.
I need to emphasize that the central part of the meet-up was listening. Everyone got as much listening time as they needed, without interruption (we use a talking stick). They had the opportunity to express anything they wanted the rest of us to know.
Usually one comes to a meeting to listen to a speaker and goes away without feeling any closer to anyone in the audience than before. But when everyone gets a chance to say all that’s there for them, a deep sense of bondedness can emerge by the time all have shared. I saw that in Bellingham.
Sitara reminds me that most people don’t listen, but are busy thinking of what they’re going to say next. And she adds that listening is not about “fixing” others. The healings we did later, she says – that could be considered the “fixing.”
It’s very hard for us not to “mess with” or “run away with” another person’s share. For some people, listening is like sitting on a hot griddle. They find it hard to sit still.
But allowing other people the opportunity to communicate what’s there for them – at length – is an invaluable but little-acknowledged gift. In fact if one listens well, it’s practically invisible. People can leave refreshed but not knowing what just happened.
Editor Andrew Eardley will be in North America towards the middle of next month and will drive up to Bellingham from Seattle, where I’ll join up with him. Both Sitara and Andrew share a common love of the ships and are focused on working aboard the Pi, which is Andrew’s ship (it’ll have to be part-time in Sitara’s case).
I almost feel too shy to say this last part.
I stopped off at the bank on the way home and was with a teller who knew about the Global Currency Reset (oh, my Lord!). So we chatted for around ten minutes about the relative value of the dinar, dong and zim.
I may have hit critical mass with that last conversation because, on the way home from the bank, I actually broke out into song. I could not contain my joy at all that had happened that weekend. It welled up inside of me from God knows where.
I said to myself, a world drama is being acted out behind the scenes and everything is coming together. The airplane is coming in for a landing. And I feel the excitement.
Or maybe I’m the hundredth monkey and I feel the bliss of everything congealing and consolidating.
Or perhaps I’m just projecting my inner happiness. By rights I should be a nervous wreck, but instead I feel full of joy, truly blessed.
Footnotes
(1) See for instance https://www.americanlimetechnology.com/tradical-hemcrete/.