March 18, 2026
It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then. — Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
I wonder if some of the changes we’ll experience as we approach New Earth and 5D are so life-encompassing, we might need a nudge or two in the process? Perhaps the energies of the upcoming vernal equinox are working on us even now. I’m sure that something is propelling me onto an unexpected pathway.
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Sacrilegious thoughts are infiltrating my head. Some time back I started writing two books – both of them historical mysteries – but they’re languishing for lack of interest. I only think about them if I notice their folders in the Notes app.
Heaven knows, I have ample time to write. But the books I started last summer don’t pull me into their orbit. I’m not intrigued by the characters, mysteries, setting, or panoply of adventures that await them.
If I want to be immersed in compelling characters and intriguing adventures, there are literally millions of published novels. Why do I need to write books? What image of myself requires that persona?
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Once I realized how easy it was for artificial intelligence to produce a 250-page novel from a brief user command – in minutes – the allure of making that effort myself began to dribble away. The speed and ease with which an unfeeling, soulless, mechanized process can spit out what takes a human months or decades to create, has cheapened my lifelong dream. I’m sure photographers, artists, filmmakers, and other creative talents feel the same.
Is this what Elon and others mean when they say we will be set free from work? Perhaps it also means we can be freed from our own, ossifying dreams.
Does relinquishing the longtime image of self-as-book-writer constitute defeat? If so, who or what has been defeated?
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Lack of interest, and the humbleness to acknowledge I don’t want to pay homage to an old dream, is freeing me to be creative solely for the sake of creativity, with a dash of communal connection on the side.
Being in a class with other artists, playing with mediums, observing each other work and admiring the results of our endeavors, is pure creativity within a learning environment. Pure fun. It’s been 20 years since I took an art class, but I well remember the timelessness that crept in, hearing the faint scratch of vine charcoal on toothy, textured sketch paper, classical music playing in the background.
I wonder if that’s a step toward 5D unity? Idyllic, supportive communal living features prominently in many visions of what our New Earth future can be. Maybe seeking communal sharing in the Now will help bring that Golden Age vision about more swiftly.
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My old dream is from a different world. That world no longer exists, and it recedes further into recent antiquity with every advance in artificial intelligence.
I would expect to feel loss, a touch of melancholy. All those years wasted on something that, apparently, was never meant to be. Catherine the Best-Selling Author is a title that may never grace my office door.
I feel a secret glee at the idea of tossing my old manuscripts. The old fear – they’re irreplaceable, original creative work – has lost its teeth.
Curiosity, reaching toward new dreams, is gradually crowding out the old fears and the tenacious attachment to my volume of unpublished work. I recently decided to join a gym, another monumental change that bubbled up organically (assisted by a wayshowing, gym-joining friend).
Art classes and attending a gym are thoroughly in-real-life. They take place at a physical location away from my home barrow. Not eyes-glued-to-screen. Not post–hip surgery PT workouts, which I’ve diligently done for two years in the echoing isolation of my room.
For me, the communal aspect of 5D has proved elusive. How would I go about it? Where would I find this apocryphal tribe of like-minded souls so beloved of New Age sages?
I should’ve known my soul would not leave me high and dry. Taking art classes and joining a gym are sneaking me toward communal interactions. I wonder what’s next? Cookie baking with neighbors? A ladies’ afternoon tea on our patio? I’m not quite at the “become a volunteer” stage, but it’s not out of the question.
Perhaps for many of us, the subtle yet sparkly energy of the March equinox will do some heavy lifting for our souls, and bring our present selves more into alignment with our hoped-for future lives.
