How many of us have actual conscious memory of our lives before coming to Earth for the party? Of course, we know we aren’t from here. We know that the way this place runs isn’t right, and maybe even that part of our dharma, our raison d’etre, is to shake things up and help set it right...but to have awareness of our point of origin? I’m thinking those ones are few and far between.
What we do have is a base camp, as it were. Base Camp Earth. If we’re fortunate enough to have a place to lay our head down, chances are pretty good that we also have an accumulation of items required for doing the daily dance (although I daresay that dancing is a lot more fun than life can be).
On the way back from the store today, I noticed how different it is coming home from when I’m heading out anywhere. There’s no mistaking the feeling that naturally comes along with returning home, especially after 20 months of not being able to.
That shift is deep for us, and I’m pretty certain that my writing updates never could convey the precarious mental state that Yo and I would enter, albeit temporarily, every time we got the news that there was another delay, and we couldn’t go home yet. There were a bunch of those.
But now it’s Christmas Eve, and we finished decorating our tree tonight. I can’t really say that my personal focus has been on much of anything besides nesting of late. Just yesterday, the guys installed our closet shelves and bars. That may not sound super exciting, but it truly is exactly that. I was up late last night emptying huge wardrobe boxes into closets, and we launched right into the unfurling first thing this morning.
We’ll be spending the coming weeks unpacking boxes and having happy reunions with clothing and items that we haven’t seen for six months or more. I actually love organizing things, and I just heard my daughter tell her Friends this evening that this is the best part of the whole experience. We’re slowly reaching goals that we set for ourselves right after the fire. Goals that helped us to get through the worst part of experiencing the massive loss.
Water treatment for water so hard that it’s actually off the chart is one biggie that we’d been discussing for literally more than a decade. It plays havoc with skin and hair and appliances, but not any more. Friday was the day that all of that wonderment was installed, and we’re in a neverending state of gratitude and happiness over it. That dream actually was sustaining for us in the devastating wake of the fire.
In any case, this mobile contemplation morphed into a wondering around how much attachment we (humanity as a whole) have to our homes here on Earth. Does the Solar Flash make it so that all of our Earthbound, holographic happenings become homogenized into simply a general benefit of experience and expansion?
If so, maybe all of the trauma, misery, and the repercussions of abuse for both victim and perpetrator will also be virtually erased but for the benefit of the experience. This whole fire episode surely has been a multi-faceted gem of an ordeal.
Where we live now isn’t far from where I was born. Surely there’s a reason that after all my wandering about the country in my 20’s, I was drawn back here. Being broke had something to do with it, but I do believe in the Divine Orchestration of all things. I’m back to claim our space again, to refresh the vortex and be proper stewards of the land once again.
I just wonder how deeply we’ll even feel the experiences of this dreadful density once we’re well shot of it…
For today, we’re safe at home in the only place we can consciously claim as ours, and it’s really good.
Merry Christmas, beautiful Golden Age family!
Love,
Suzi