To imply that these past few days and months have not been all out war, in every sense of the word, would be a grave miscarriage of truth.
I ache within the very core of my being. I’ve worked through the rage, which was no small feat. I knew I had to feel the feels, but waking each day had become too much effort. Listening to those on a false ascension made things worse: we are not doing ourselves any favors by pretending to be love and light in a world in which everyone is pretending.
No, the awakening process is ugly-messy in ways we never saw coming, and then some. Letting go of our beloveds is akin to pulling our hearts through our nostrils-painful, confusing farewells are not for the weak hearted.
The universe always shows up when you need her, and today was no different as I found myself reading about Ascension and vibrational pull. We are losing those we can no longer vibe with, literally. It’s not our fault, and it certainly isn’t theirs. Yet the knowing does nothing to ease our misery.
I try to see God in the intricate beauty of the days that pass. So many poignant blessings abound: my golden Jesse, as he traverses hill and dale-tail wagging, the puppy smiles for all the world to see.
Sunsets, sunrises…the soul quenching foliage only seen in the months of Autumn. Morning glories, butterflies and the last of my hummingbirds-a sad farewell to Summer turns to hope in a brand new world that beckons-just over the horizon.
Bake the cookies, call the friend, take the nap-be the good the world so desperately needs in these final days of reckoning.
Be loved, beloveds.