New Beginnings. Time travelers lost the battle, left thru a Stargate, wished the curator “luck”.
The Goddesses are back! And so are their counterparts, Divine. The frauds have been unfreedomed, and are the new indentured servants. In the 30’s or 40’s, it appears I was sent to “gift” gnosis that would lead a thief down another path of incoherence. We have a fresh start. Everyone gets what they deserve … the Creator stated, “Their intentions will be their gift.” And it appears it is.
A few weeks ago I heard a masculine say to another, “That is my horse.”
It just came to mind again, so I googled what a horse might mean …
But first ~
The false telepaths who fancy themselves drivers of consciousness want folks to believe a person is no more than an animal, a commodity, a transport, from here to there, a work-horse which helps them complete task … this was part of the degrading verbiage the hidden interferers were pumping into the field of awareness during last Sunday’s mental attack as I was chopping wood in the forest.
What is a horse a metaphor for?
The metaphor of the rider and the horse. The rider is your rational thinking, your mind. And the horse is your emotions, your energy, your power, the animal part of your nature.
What did the horse represent?
In its earliest symbolic perception, the horse was disquieting and chtonian, but later became associated with the sun as a result of its domestication. It is most often a lunar animal linked to mother earth, water, sexuality, dreams, divination and the renewal of vegetation.
What is the spiritual meaning of a horse?
The Horse symbolizes travel, stamina, adventure and intuition, embodying the spirit of freedom and the relentless pursuit of new horizons. Wild Horses, with their unbridled energy and desire to roam, remind us of the deep-seated need for exploration in our own lives.
And just now, I’m thinking of the 4 horsemen …
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, as described in the Book of Revelation, are four biblical figures who appear upon the unsealing of the first four of the seven seals. They are widely interpreted as representing Conquest, War, Famine, and Death.
Here’s a more detailed breakdown:
Conquest (or Religious Deception): The first horseman rides a white horse, symbolizing the conquering power that often precedes the apocalypse. Some interpretations also view this as representing religious deception.
War: The second horseman rides a red horse and is often depicted with a sword, representing war and conflict.
Famine: The third horseman rides a black horse, signifying famine and starvation.
Death: The fourth horseman rides a pale horse, representing death and pestilence.
Symbolism: The four horsemen are not just literal beings; they are symbolic representations of the chaos and suffering that will accompany the end times.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Horsemen_of_the_Apocalypse
Some of you Suns and Stars are transport in this Spiritual Battle for Amazing and Skillful Holy Warriors from the Kingdom of the Most High … unseen … and you will not be falling, not this time. You Holy Steeds, whether you be a Stallion or a Mare, are Divine, and this is your Last Rodeo.
I heard the Divine state, “Lust will be your down-fall.”
When a warrior pays heed to the lustful energies they’ll be distracted, and someone may come along and steal their horse.
Be aware Family, whether you are the Rider or the Steed, be 100% present in all of your circumstances until the Most High Divine give the go-ahead, letting you know the war is over and it is time to relax and BE with one another. Don’t “jump the gun” or you may get shot.
Children should all have pets, so they can get used to managing themselves through the pain of losing the love of the connection. It’s gentler than losing an “intimate” union and love. If we cling too tightly, we can become a monster, we can heart and soul shatter and wish to destroy the entire world for the pain of it. Practicing this release makes the loss, or change within union, bearable, while remaining open to loving again. I really don’t like it when my doggo leaves me, but another comes, and teaches me to love again.
The first police officer reaches under the one-ton bale of hay and attempts to lift it off of me. Of course, it doesn’t budge. He grabs his flashlight and shines it under the hay into my face. I blink. He yells over his shoulder to his partner, “He’s alive! He’s alive! Help me move the hay.”
Even working together two officers can’t move it – not a fraction of an inch. A thousand pounds each? Of course they can’t move it.
“Cut the strings,” I whisper. My voice is weak. They can’t hear me.
I am not going to last much longer. If they will just cut the strings, the bale will break apart, and they can drag me out of here.
“Lift, Joe, lift!”
“Just cut the strings,” I mumble, “Please cut the strings.”
“C’mon harder.”
“It’s too heavy! We can’t lift it. We gotta go for help! Hang on Chad, we’ll be right back!”
I am alone again in the growing darkness. Wonderful painless, peaceful, irresistible sleep beckons. I struggle to remain conscious. One. Two. Three. Four… Where are they? How long does it take for police, fire, ambulance, to arrive? Where is the Coast Guard? Where are the Marines? Where is that one old farmer with enough common sense to just cut the strings?
The desert air grows chilly as the sky darkens. I grow weaker. Dizziness overcomes me and I begin to drift off into that gray space somewhere between the living and the dead.
Help finally arrives. One of the police officers bends down so I can see his face. “Hold on! A fire engine is here. There are six men aboard.”
I do the math. Two big, strong cops and six burly firemen must move a ton of dead weight off me. That’s two hundred forty five pounds each. No way can they possibly do that – but somehow, miraculously, they do. A couple of neighbors who have arrived at the scene stand by to catch me. They lower my limp body to the ground where I lie in a broken heap.
Why didn’t they cut the strings? They could have saved a long, tortured hour.
How heavy is hay? A piece of hay is about the weight of a feather. How many pieces of hay does it take to make two thousand pounds? Lots. That package of sixteen bazillion individual pieces of hay wrapped in a gigantic bundle is a crushing weight. But separated, it would have been nothing. I feel bad saying this, because it makes me sound ungrateful – and I am very grateful to the guys who saved my life that night – but there is a point to be made here, isn’t there?
Is it too big?
Is it overwhelming?
Cut the strings – just cut the strings!
Are you buried under crushing burdens? Projects that are too huge? Schedules that are too complicated? Maybe you are trying to do too much at once – trying to do everything instead of doing something.
Cut the strings and cut yourself free. Do one thing at a time – and get it Done. Move “out of the strain of the doing into the peace of the done.”
By Chad Hymas
People you ache for will reject you
Let them
People are going to show you
with their actions
the painful reality of who they are
Let them
People are going to violate
your boundaries
and then blame you
Let them
People are going to believe
their own version of who you are
despite truth or facts
Let them
People are going to misunderstand
misalign and malign you
Let them
I know it’s agony
to allow false stories
to take center stage
rather than truth
but let them
This way lies power
and healing and self-reclamation
The energy you were spending to gain
approval, inclusion, validation
is a false-belonging wound
that’s bleeding you dry
Warning:
To “Let Them”
requires many
stops
and
starts
Stop
the hemorrhage
of explaining
Stop
the frazzle
of justifying
Stop swallowing
the slow-killing poison
of defending
Stop striving, earning, performing
Stop telling yourself
you need their back-breaking
version of love
or understanding
Stop allowing their judgement
to injure your self-love
Take a breath
Dare
to fill your lungs
with something other than
anxiety
Exhale
diminishment
Inhale
expansion
Now start
Start
seeking inside you
the thing that you
always wanted from them
Start
owning all your truth
the beauties
and the beastly
daring to embrace it all
Start
delighting in the wonder of you
as vast as a moon-sky blanket
and dazzling
as a starlit circus
Start
healing the fracture
of your tender fierce heart
gluing and gilding
the jagged edges
with the 24 karat courage
Forgive yourself
for mistaking them
for your power source
The day you start
giving yourself
the love
you wanted from them
is the first day of your freedom
A sky walker once said,
“We’re all living in cages
with the doors wide open.”
You, little songbird, deserve to be free
Take wing from the prison
of your thoughts
You’ll soar
They’ll criticize
Let them
~ Angi Sullins prints, books and card decks http://www.angisullins.com
Art by Digitiel
Narcissists…
Demanding you care.
Demanding you serve.
Demanding you lay down,
And satisfy.
Historical abuses by imposter, parasitical abusers of life, without kindness for the Mother, the Child.
Many of us were “touched” by greatness today as we travelled this pathway!
When young, I dreamed of Love, having a Family, Joyous times together.
It never came …
The dream turned into one longing of Protection, from those harvesters who continually pulled on my energy, r.a.p.ing my mind.
I finally received protection.
I am grateful.
I let go of the first dream a long, long time ago, even before menopause.
I wasn’t permitted a family.
Invisible peepers, voyeurs, watching from afar, “loving” the energy, pushing in, taking it, using it to harm those I love … pretending they are powerful,
Dreaming of “possessing” this sleepers gifts, commanding them and their output.
No. I’m not interested in the peeper finally showing up in a flesh suit,
After all the studying of me, my energy, and its capacity.
I have discovered I don’t much care for those watchers …
Window shopping in an energetic “candy” store.
The thought of entangling the flesh suit with a voyeur vampiric entity is SO disturbing, SO distasteful …
There is no need to “feed” this dream that never came, that never will … not in this realm.
It’s sad to me, the opinion and guidance I once needed from the masculine was never offered … only disdain, a sneering certainty I was in lack, somehow insufficient as partner or presence in their life, unworthy of effort.
Self-sufficiency born out of this lack programmed the mind and spirit to stop seeking comfort where stability, support, or care could not be found.
This is what is sad … the Love many of us sought could not be found.
We had to turn inward to find it.
Perhaps it is those of us who did, which have escaped the illusion that Love is outside, and must be found there, who are free of its longing and binding, the forever searching ended as soon as we found what is inside Self, that Holy Garden.
I’m left to wonder, where does that leave the connection, that never seemed to exist?
Their “god” is Zilla, a black hole of endless shadow. They’ve been feeding it “Light” of life for century’s, the “life” of the missing.
This light has fueled their illusion of power for century’s, confessed right out of their own minds.
Women are sacrificed to this shadow realm as breeders. Children are too, as flesh to eat, and as suffering light energy to power their magic.
This potent energy of torment and suffering is utilized to cast “nets” over the collective field of consciousness. They cover the collective in this energy, having applied a magical cast to it, to keep the subconscious trapped in a fight or flight mode, a survival mode.
Sexual interactions allow them to “offload” karmic debt through “tagging” you as recipient. It’s an energy dump. This trick keeps the recipient trapped in the root chakra, enforcing the need for survival, especially once they shatter the heart, the soul, with betrayal. So now they’ve tagged you with their karma, and pushed you into south node suffering with betrayal.
They cover the populace with “chemical fog”. No one knows what kind of chemicals, but respiratory infections arise from them.
They line all the canned goods with estrogen, toying with the testosterone in men, causing slow or still sperm, and strange urges toward the same sex. They spin stories of past lives as women, and it’s “natural”.
They sacrifice anyone rising in energy, in light, to their shadow god, using heart attack magic, stroke magic, car accident magic, domestic abuse magic, on and on and on magic.
They hate you for the light you embody. They hate you because your light is necessary to make things work. They hate that you have it, and they don’t. They keep the sleepers sleeping in a drug and chemical induced state. They siphon the life force vitality thru suffering, an invisible affair.
They use others energetic signature to perform blood rituals, framing the essence with foul deed, hoping the Most High God will see them as filthy. They get into the heads of the collective and “drive” them into trauma leading to dramatic ends, and they condemn them for falling into their trap, sending them into this shadow.
These ones are “chosen” by the god zilla. They have been masquerading to be for, while against, the Most High with illusionary magic.
You, dear collective, have walked the walk of suffering, survived, and collected first hand testimony of truth. It may have been unknown, this data collection, yet you are amazingly detailed in your learnings. The knowledge you embody … good, bad, and ugly … is authentic and true, reliable.
Your willingness to be of service in some of the most traumatic ways, to bear witness to these brutality’s, has been the blessing needed for catalyst, to flip this script. Your experiences and suffering have value beyond measure.
This time, you don’t “go into the dark” to be trapped, drained, abused. This time you have wings, and you are soaring.
What is about to occur will be unsettling for many who don’t know what you know. They will be soul shocked by the brutality, the return to senders, for they are unaware of the crimes which brought on this need.
It takes a bit of insanity to counter a deep, black abyss of a soul eating shadow.
I support you in your mighty roaring.
Many of us see, most feel, and it is my hope that as in we, discernment has been seeded into others. Even though their minds may not know the truth, may their soul recognize it and be at ease while a clearing takes place.
Everything happens in the Spiritual Realms first. What you will be “seeing” has already occurred. Criminals selling the life force vitality of our family, the soul of our fabric, our existence, must be stopped.
There is a need for discovering the value of transparency, of trustworthiness, and of friendship. The lesson must be learned.
The God and Goddess of Time are sending them back.
Trust in the Most High during the coming chaos and know that through it all, “He’s got this”.
And so do you.
Song lyrics rolled through mind upon completion of this post …
Leaving’ it all up to you, oooo, ooooo. You decide, what you gonna do. Now do you want my Lu-oooove, or are we through?
They tried to pretransition me again last night. I do hope my new family tree were pleased with the very intentional way I met the challenge.
As I was getting coffee this morning, I was inspired to place both hands on chest and sing the Cherokee Moring Song. 7 rounds you go …
As I finished, one of my adversaries said, “Audacity!” and I smiled.
We survived the true christmas day.
Life is good, and I am happy.
opensenseme 