January 1, 2022
It’s quiet. Peaceful. The air is utterly still. Frost sparkles on cars parked outside overnight. It was 39° when I got up, as cold as it’s been so far this winter here in balmy Santa Barbara.
My enjoyment of a frosty morning is now tempered by wondering where Jesse the troubadour spent the night. And all the other homeless people who flock to our usually temperate clime. I imagine that even in paradise, unsheltered people could freeze to death.
It’s the first day of 2022. Did any of us ever imagine that there would still be unhoused, underfed, inadequately clothed humans on planet Earth in this pivotal year? Many people are quite sure that 2022 is a pivotal year. Many were quite sure that 2020 and 2021 were also pivotal years.
Maybe we might want to tinker with our definition of “pivotal.“
*****
It’s not that nothing has happened. Or even that everything that has happened over the last bumpy two years has been precisely bad. But I can’t help feeling that all of the dark authoritarian control was supposed to have been eradicated much, much, much sooner. As Kerry Cassidy recently noted, “For those of us who know the truth, this game is often painful to watch because of its maddeningly slow pace.” (1)
It has been playing out for a very long time. If I pay heed to metaphysical / speculative literature from twenty or thirty years ago, I’m reminded that this game has been chronicled, highlighting different events and deadlines, for many years.
*****
I’m currently reading the ebook, Defending Sacred Ground, by Alex Collier, published in 1996. (2) He discusses being contacted by the Andromedans, their version of the real history of humanity, predictions of catastrophic and other events, and so on; there’s a number of similarities to information shared by Matthew Ward (and many others).
In Matthew’s books and messages, the dire storyline eases up over the years. Because humanity began to accept the Light beamed to Earth, and because of a number of other factors, Matthew notes that cataclysms that had been on the horizon were toned down considerably. Fortunately, the worst of the worst has apparently been avoided.
Reading Defending Sacred Ground, with “intel“ that is now twenty-five years old, I experienced creeping déjà vu. Here’s these stories again, none of which appear to have panned out, such as all ETs having to be off Earth by a certain date while benevolent ET contact occurs on a different date. In fact, multiple event-dates are given, and many years later, it seems that most predicted events did not happen on those dates, or at all for that matter.
Ah, well. I reckon that’s the nature of predictions.
*****
If I had come across this Alex Collier book even six months ago, I think I would’ve been perturbed. I would’ve taken it as an indication of the fallibility of those who supposedly have inside information or contact with higher sources. All these commentators, channels, and contactees—they don’t really seem to know what they’re talking about.
Now, I’m just sitting here smiling, watching the sun sparkle through the avocado leaves. Goodness, this entity of time is a slippery little thing. Elusive as a cat that doesn’t want to be found.
That’s all right. It’s the nature of cats, and time, to be elusive.
*****
So how shall I relate to predictions and dates? Shall I have faith that certain things should happen at certain times because a trusted individual has confidently said so? Although I try mightily to avoid it, sometimes I still succumb to the temptation to believe these earnest town criers, at least on some level, at least for some events.
That reaction no longer appeals to me. Instead, I’m simply observing. Treating the information as I might treat the weather report.
Hmm. Says we’re going to have rain later today. Funny, there’s no clouds out there. Well, maybe there will be showers this afternoon.
Since I wasn’t planning on having a picnic in the park, it’s largely irrelevant to me whether it rains or not. Now, for people who are planning picnics, this information is very relevant. Their immediate future is dependent on the reliability of weather information from what they hope are knowledgable sources.
I have the luxury of detachment. If they want to have their picnic, they don’t have that luxury.
Or, alternatively, they could bring a canopy with them. Or change their plans and have a picnic under the quaint pavilion of the bandstand in the park. Might be kind of fun, actually. Different. They’d still be enjoying the park, just from a different perspective.
*****
If we pin all of our hopes on the glimmering bucket of gold we believe is sitting just on the other side of this date or that event, we might be metaphorically caught out in the rain.
At the moment I find that I’m attracted to channels whose prognostications are, frankly, vague. Janine, for instance, has done a couple of readings for 2022. The one I watched yesterday played out various likelihoods for the whole of 2022. (3)
It seems the new financial system is already in place but isn’t going to become evident to the public for some time. It won’t happen all at once; we won’t wake up one day and suddenly everything is drastically different. It takes time to globally work out all the details. Some version of NESARA / GESARA / the Reval is unquestionably coming, though!
The globalist agenda is collapsing, but since the dark hats still largely control the mainstream media, it appears otherwise. But wait! The media is going to come down with a big bang, propagating a lie too blatant to ignore, so they end up looking like fools. This will occur sometime during this year, not sure precisely when…
And so on, through the various issues and scenarios humanity is dealing with.
The information is interesting in and of itself. But my attitude toward it is what I find intriguing, because it demonstrates such an about-face from my previous, anxious need to know.
Instead, there’s a kind of relaxation. I’m reminded of the Sphinx, sitting forever in the desert, covered and uncovered by the sands of time, but always and ever enduring.
*****
I don’t mind the clouds. I feel that I always have an invisible umbrella that protects me from unwanted showers.
I also feel as if I can discard the umbrella, and just enjoy the water splashing on me. Who cares if my clothes get wet? They’ll dry out. And the water won’t hurt me.
It might be irresponsible or just a tad nutty to feel mostly unworried about what’s happening in the world, and what will happen. And of course my complacency could vanish in a heartbeat if a malevolent thunderstorm suddenly parks itself directly over my house.
Even then, though, I have high hopes that I will remember I have an umbrella, I have the invisible armor of the Divine, and beyond all that, the rain itself is not going to hurt me.
I can enjoy the rain, splashing through puddles, spying a double rainbow that peeks over the mountains as the sun goes down, trailing its robes of glory.
(1) Kerry Cassidy blog (12/23/21), https://tinyurl.com/uwz9w5k3
(2) Alex Collier, AlexCollier.org, Defending Sacred Ground, https://tinyurl.com/3cu2ebdb
(3) Tarot by Janine, Deep Dive Friday (12/31/21), “Looking Into 2022, Will the Darkness Clear? How Much More Work Needs to be Done?” https://tinyurl.com/5n77nvt2