Funny how my priorities have shifted in the last couple of years. I used to be in half-baked prepper mode, ensuring we were overstocked on food and necessities. Now I’m turning my Armageddon closet into ancillary appliance storage for the bread maker and other exotic kitchen helpers that rarely see use. The excess beans and pasta have been used up and I’m only keeping enough on hand for ordinary use, not in preparation for the apocalypse.
Instead of telling myself to “exercise and stretch through the pain” while believing the med beds will arrive and I’ll never need a hip replacement, I’m fielding calls from doctors’ offices about tests and appointments in preparation for surgery in a few months.
Am I letting down the side? Throwing in the towel? Shouldn’t an Ascension believer have faith that higher-dimensional magic will soon be available to “fix me” without surgery?
The trouble with placing faith in an unknown, no matter how fervently one believes, is that present life can become pretty dire while meditating upon a future of bliss.
I’m reminded of friends who were essentially hanging out for inheritances from well-off parents, running up credit card debt instead of finding a way to increase their income or cut back on luxury spending. After all, they believed they were set to receive more than enough to pay off debt and buy whatever they wanted…in the rosy, abundant future.
There’s probably a balance to be found between faith in what we’re sure will be, and present pragmatism. For those of us counting on the Reval and global debt forgiveness, we could still consider if there’s something we’re willing and able to do in this moment to alleviate any financial pinch.
For those of us looking forward to future med bed healing, it can be a delicate dance between literally staying alive by partaking of conventional treatment, and not doing anything too drastic because, after all, med beds will be here. Soon.
I won’t stop being an Ascension believer, because I’m too cognizant of apparently reliable information confirming that we, and the planet, are indeed ascending, and nothing can stop it.
But I’m also too burdened by long-term pain to continue being patient for whatever level of Ascension must occur before humanity at large gets those coveted med bed appointments.
A subliminal mental / emotional balancing act recently pried open the door to considering hip replacement. Apparently Universe gave it a firm stamp of approval, because in just a few short weeks I went from thinking it’s an okay idea, to scheduling the surgery.
If med beds are announced sometime before that day, though, you can bet I’ll scrap surgery in favor of med beds. I’ll take Star Trek–style quantum healing over sophisticated, but still uncertain, “modern surgery” every time.
But unless and until that happens, I’ll stay on the surgery schedule. Perhaps it’s not very trusting to need confirmation in black and white, with a big red approval stamp on a literal or etheric med bed appointment form… but that’s me. No doubt each of us will need to pick our way delicately through the minefield of what if, and what might be, and what is solid and real, to find our own way through the paradox of being an Ascension believer while existing within the appearance of 3D chaos.