Last night I ventured through a wormhole located deep within my own cellular system. It was not hard getting there. I just imagined traveling down to that level of my form and once I arrived at the cell level I envisioned a wormhole opening in one of the many bubbles floating before me… and zoom.. I traveled far beyond this world. Where I ventured I don’t know. It was filled with more peace and light than I’ve ever experienced before. The colors around me vibrated in luminescent threads, pulsating through me and tickling all the senses. I could not only see these threads of color but taste, hear and feel them. It was a wonderful experience that lasted for an eternal time and when I returned I just hovered outside my physical body, and then lowered myself back in. Strange, I entered this wormhole inside my form and returned outside my body.
There is a space within that beckons us to come. It is our soul’s realm and the space where our Guide resides. It is imagined, yet not imaginary. It is as solid as our planet but not tainted by the chaos mashing around us in this earth world. It is dark at first, but then it opens into a new world, one we are comfortable in, where we know we have been before we came here. I’m now convinced that all this talk of dimensional exploration is the next step in our evolutionary path.
From time to time I find that my being is enjoying a perfect state of bliss. I feel no emotions, no good or bad, just a state of peace that gives complete balance to my form. It is in this state that I bring you this next excerpt from Letter Forty-Six of book two. In the past Robert has asked that I not publish too much in one post as it may find the reader distracted with other things as he/she reads on. But the following information needs to be brought public in it’s full embodiment. I ask that you set aside some quiet time to read this post. Perhaps a few moments of meditation will present this information in greater stance.
…I sense a new energy suddenly. It’s as though the cloak I’m wearing is somehow wearing me! It’s inside me, radiating an essence that scintillates, empowers my own essence. I look up into G’s impassive eyes. I can see into him in a new way. His eyes are the same deep maroon color of Old Man’s eyes, I realize. There’s a gentle, ancient soul behind them, ready to help me take whatever my next steps might be.
“I have other spaces in my dwelling, of course. But I think you’ve seen enough for now. Come back to the cedar with me. There’s something [O] asked me to show you there.”
Back through the leafy partition, I look at the space with new vision. I see globes of light, four of them, hovering in the room now. They’re high above, glowing soft and warm. Small sparks drop lazily from them. All around the perimeter of the circle, illuminated columns have appeared; these cylinders have points of light spiraling up them. They’re ghostly. It’s as if they are not quite in this dimension.
An explanation pops into my head unbidden. Streaming! They are indeed ‘dimension-straddling’ features; their purpose is to help bring essences across boundaries—like portals. I’m intrigued and begin to count them. Strangely though, when I try, each time I lose track of the counting. Are there ten or twelve? Or nine? I simply can’t tell. Baffling. In the end, I accept them as the countenance of mystery.
“Please sit down.” Green interrupts my absorption and motions to some cushions that have appeared near the crystal altar. I bow and slide down to sitting. He follows suit on the opposite side. We sit facing each other in silence. Uncharacteristically, I’m content to wait for whatever he wants to show me. This patience, too, seems imbued from the fabric I wear. A profound peace is here, all around and inside.
Green stares intently into the crystals for several minutes. He finally, slowly, lifts his eyes and arms. His hands are open before him—one up, the other down. With a slight twitch of his fingers, a plane of light erupts on top of the crystals. It’s a flat circle of chartreuse light, glowing, transparent like a hologram. It wavers and fluctuates, continually renewing its hold on this dimension.
“Follow the light.” G whispers. That’s all.
I look into the shining disk. It sparkles with many colors, like rainbow spirals. A figure gradually materializes on the surface—a holographic miniature. It’s a transparent image of a woman in black robes. Long white hair falls over her shoulders. It’s B! Hypnotically, this does not surprise me. She bows her head, but does not speak. Neither do I. She stands and faces me, arms out like Green.
I’m suddenly dizzy and light-headed. But my gaze its fixed on B. Smoothly, another image appears beside her, arms outstretched toward her. Incredibly it’s me! I’m watching a tiny figure of myself on the gleaming dish. The more I look, the more I’m drawn into the image. Is this a dimension-within-a-dimension? Is that what all subdi’s are? As I wonder about it, I see myself both here and there, just as before. And then there is no separation. I’m just standing in front of Black, on the disk.
My palms are also up and down. I lay one hand in hers, and she reciprocates with the other. The electricity flows at once. We seem to be completing a circuit, up from the disk, through our bodies and hands. I stare into her dark eyes. She smiles and we begin to slowly whirl. The disk below us whirls in the opposite direction. The room around us blurs. I’m losing control. I stop resisting. Down we go. Into the abyss once more.
The sensation of falling is much stronger this time. It feels like we’ve jumped off the cliff where you and I watched the stormy sea and avatars. There is no cliff or ocean, but there are shapes, walls and caverns, rushing past as we plummet. A harsh screaming sound assaults my ears. The air is speeding around us; we’re both falling and spinning. I smell smoke. It’s frightening. I hold my breath and close my eyes for a moment. The fear increases with this, so I open them again, searching for B’s face. I stare into her eyes fiercely. The falling continues, but the fear relaxes and slowly abates. She is placid, composed, and I’m absorbing that from her.
“B, can you hear me?” I shout above the whipping wind. “What’s happening?”
She continues to stare, and says nothing. But she tightens her grip on my hands. I feel a message inwardly. ‘Look through the projection’, it says. My eyes are still fixed on hers. She begins to grow more transparent. At first I see nothing behind her. But no, there is something else—shapes, objects. There’s a great beam of light is surging up through them. How could I have missed it? On it’s edges I see many forms coming and going, whirling up, and then drawn back into the beam, dissolving. At first they are simple—buildings, animals, people, places.
All at once the shapes become more complex—large groups of things, events. I see the seething ocean of human bodies I witnessed at the Ends of the Earth. They rise and fall along the periphery of the light shaft, spinning like a slow-motion tornado. Now the vision plunges into the past. It seems to be receding farther and farther into the past, as we fall. I see ancient civilizations, great cities and monuments. There are the Giza pyramids and the Sphinx. But they are not the way I’ve ever seen them. They’re alight with vibrant colors, radiating waves into the sky and land.
“Black, what am I looking at?”
At last I hear her voice, low and firm. “We are visiting elements of the origin for humanity’s form. We are proceeding toward the source of your own form. Watch, and learn what you can about yourself.”
I stare at the scene in the beam. It does not dissolve as the others have. The Sphinx looks new, like it was just built. Its face is freshly carved and has the smile of the Mona Lisa. There is a faint triangle of light formed among the two eyes and the smile; it points down. The eyes are smiling, like the lips. I keep seeing the Mona Lisa.
“What does this mean to me?” I shout out to myself.
I notice that the face triangle is a mirror reflection of the pyramid behind the Sphinx—one points to the Earth, one to the heavens. The images fade now. But two neon-light triangles remain. A synchronicity streams into my mind. The lower triangle is a ‘V’; the upper is an ‘A’—the first and last letters of ‘vesica’. The triangles now join into a diamond rhombus shape. It turns slowly into three dimensions, becoming a tetrahedron. And then the turning accelerates into whirling.
The tetrahedron spins so fast, it becomes a vesica piscis. That shape again! It’s like an enormous glassy waveform. It flows into an hourglass, then back again. The vesica hovers, transparent like a lens. The beam is passing through this lens and diffusing out in a multitude of smaller rays. It projects over the land and water, over the whole Earth.
Suddenly, our holographic bodies are literally picked up and swept away into the vortex, into the lens. Within our joint vision, I am beyond myself, beyond human. Miraculously, I am able to see each and every form in all creation. I know this is impossible. But it is my impression there are no limits on what is available for me to perceive. From here, from this universal lens, all the Cosmos can be seen, and magnified equally.
This is far beyond my mental comprehension. It’s so vast my mind is disintegrated by its touch. Still, there is a connection. I am yet an incarnate, simple being on this tiny Earth. It is all so simple. To see this and know this, I cannot use a human mind. That’s not because the mind is too small; it’s because it isn’t small enough! It’s not simple enough.
I keep going with the vision. The Mona Lisa returns, and the Sphinx. They’re within us—the lens—now. The mystery remains. These two icons seem to be the heart of mystery on our planet. They’re smiling out at the world because they know something important. They know what we know, here. This is a game, an elaborate mystery game. Our whole task as humans, and as vigilans, is to play this game!
Laughter. Cosmic laughter from Source, echoing forever in an endless feedback loop. What is she smiling about? What is the Sphinx contemplating? ‘Play, my child,’ comes the answer. ‘Play with the smile. It is the root of your blessings. It is how you are born and how you die.’
I hear my ego calling from a great distance. It demands to know why these bizarre things are happening to it, to ‘me’. I turn my attention and listen. It’s refusing to accept the simplicity, the mystery. It reminds me of all the troubles and cruelty in the world. But here, within the bubble lens beyond my mind, the ego is powerless, naked. I look out to it, amused and compassionate. A simple seed-link enters me in passing. I know it will reveal itself to me later.
In the twinkling of an eye—my own eye—everything changes. I’m back in the cedar room, standing on the disk above the altar. Green and Black are with me in a triangle. The beam and the images have vanished. Our hands are joined. I still smell the smoke from below, mixed now with the scent of cedar.
I speak hesitantly, “I know this is a strange question, B. But I feel I must ask it. Am I a vigilan? Have I transformed?”
“B looks over to Green, smiling. He speaks, “Yes. For this projection. That is now true. When you return to your own time, you will be human again, however.”
B continues the explanation, “It is time now for you to see through our eyes for a while. We wish you to know the blessing being given to humanity. It is an opening into everything your hearts can ever desire. You may now know, as we know. Accept your blessing! This is the ultimate message from us to your species. Lift the ego veil and look with clear eyes upon the wonder of true freedom. If you humans only knew the blessing being offered, you would be dancing—not fighting—in the streets.”
I gasp. It’s true. The feeling is exhilarating. It is light and free. It’s like a giant, invisible claw has let go of me! I’m still in a physical form, and yet, I feel as free as a god! Everything is so, so beautiful, so peaceful. I’m ebullient, expansive and joyful—almost into bliss. The word that comes to mind is ‘enormous’. I feel enormous. This is how it is to be free of ego! I have nothing to defend or protect, nothing to hide or feel shame about. No regrets.
I realize I now have the opportunity to really look at the differences between human and vigilan. I know, finally, from both sides. My fears are gone. Though my desires are still with me, they are clean and transparent; they’re keyed to the sensibilities of those around me, and more—with the entire species. I can literally feel the Oneness vibrating down low, inside my sensations. I can feel what others are feeling. All I need do is look, allow and accept. Appreciation is hanging in the air, in every breath I take.
“B, I’m finally getting it! I know who you really are, all of you. I’m dazzled by the presence and peace you all have. I can’t wipe this smile off my face.”
“Welcome to your destiny, my brother.”
The strongest feeling I have is, again, appreciation—just as you, O, described way back at the beginning. It is continuous and unending. It welcomes me to each moment of perception, and I in turn welcome it. The reciprocity of this equation is boundlessly creative, regenerating and amplifying itself in steady measure. There is an expansive spiral to it; hence the feeling of enormity. And underlying it all, especially comparing it to my human being, there is an almost excruciating sense of peace. I know this peace as vital, the power center of my new being. How will I feel when I have to give this up again?
Vigilans live in an unending state of truth. Sadly, I realize that humans are living out the last of our collective lies. We blindly cling to a sunken ship, full of corpses. We have ridden our dead horse into its own grave. And even then, we do not yet see. Our fear of the unknown contracts us into separation, compounded upon separation. This is the very definition of ‘ego contract’—ego contraction!
Instead of realizing the appreciation, alive in the atmosphere of each breath, we choose to suck in and amplify our separatism. Holding our collective breath, out of fear and defense, we prefer to retreat away from the glory of being. This is why the world of my time is so turbulent, violent and dishonest. We are denying our blessing. In so doing, we play the Cosmic game in shame and disappointment.
I look back now with greater compassion. I realize that humanity must do what it’s doing. We must live through this to its bitter end—the Ends of the Earth. We must exhaust the demon of our illusion. We are not in fact separate, yet we are particular. We have been confused. That’s all it is. We have dreamt that separation means danger and dread. We have invented all the fear in the world out of this. We’ve spread it far and wide across the land, onto all creatures and forms—animals, plants, minerals. We have perpetrated a curse upon ourselves and upon nature, based on ignorance—the Veil of Forgetfulness.
An inspiration flashes into my mind. Being human is nothing more than a belief! Yes, it’s a root belief, and that’s very strong. But any belief can be changed, given enough inner acceptance. It is just a matter of looking behind the projection and redefining ourselves. It’s a matter of being authentic. Could humanity do that? It’s a tall order.
“All right. I see it, B. I feel it and know now what’s happening. But I’m left with a question. What can I do about it? What can we all do about it? I understand how it feels to be really free. I feel our transmutation deep inside myself. That’s fine for me, but what can I take back to my fellow humans? They’re all struggling so hard to change and evolve. And yet the forces of resistance are strong. They’re rigidly entrenched and in control. It seems hopeless to try to do anything against them. I don’t want to return from this glimpse of awakening empty-handed.”
Black looks back to Green. He answers, “It is hopeless to try. Yea. It is hopeless to be against the old form. That form is you. Do not negate yourself, your vehicle. Evolve! Your hope is a type of resistance, aimed at limitation. So also, is your desire to change the world. This pushes you away from Source. It takes you backwards into the old projection, because it seeks salvation within that form. You must enter the new projection, the new form! Let Conscious Evolution change the world through you, within you.”
“But can we not apply hope to this change? Why not hope? Can we not make it an active, positive thing?” I ask.
“Apply acceptance. Activate your appreciation in this moment, not any other. Hope implies and regenerates distance from your objective, from the moment. Do not try. Do not hope. Rather, allow and accept. Appreciate. Then act.”
I’m looking into the deep maroon eyes of Green. His presence feels very familiar in this moment. His face begins to shift. The skin takes on wrinkles. His black hair turns gradually white. The face grows thinner, gaunt. His eyes, however, remain the same. Beyond this time and place, I am looking at the old man! He bows his head and raises it again, smiling triumphantly. I see the Cosmos behind him.
“I am who you have always known, my son. This is where we begin, where we are returning. Yes, [Old Man] is indeed part of the longitudinal path of my soul.”
I shake my head. What am I seeing? Green’s face slides back through the background image of his essence. I realize I’ve just met his soul. Old Man is his soul. Amazing!
“Does O know this?” I blurt out.
“She does now.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!” I sigh. “Uh, that’s just an expression.”
Green chuckles, “You may in fact be damned. But you don’t have to stay that way. Truly, we all want humanity to realize this. You are not damned, except by yourselves. You are blessed. Just accept it.”
I draw in a deep, long breath. I feel the ever-present field of appreciation entering me. Within its embrace, I must now return to my overarching concern, “I want to ask for your help. Would you please help us, G, Black, O.M.? There must be something we can do besides just sitting and waiting for the so-called transmutation. That seems so iffy, if you know what I mean, and like a cop out.”
Black speaks again, “We understand. There is something you can do besides wait. You can look through the façade of the projection. For this, you must know yourself first. This is of paramount importance. Look into your own being deeply. Explore yourself to the very root and foundation. Do this in heart and body.”
Green picks up the thread. “And cultivate the other awareness. Learn to see your ego for what it is. Accept it for what it is. Do not fight it or try to kill it out. Paradoxically, bring your awareness into the ego and let it there shine. Let it burn out through the illusion of the little self. Let the ego know itself to be illusion. Let it decide for itself, in the light of consciousness, to release you.”
“Yes.” B continues. “It is all paradoxical. Accept paradox as spirit’s blood in your veins. Ego will release you, once it has the light of awareness within itself. This you can facilitate, hand-in-hand with Conscious Evolution. Your times are indeed at hand, each and every one of you.”
“You cannot make the transformation happen of your own volition. No. Such an effort would be of the mind and persona. This is an impossibility. The genetic mutation is enabled through bodily and etheric forces, not mental. Nevertheless, you may influence the approach of awakening through your heart. You may invoke it’s arousal through openness within.”
“You are not left without avenues of action. You may certainly participate in the transition events of your epoch. But refrain from thinking you can make it happen. You cannot control this. Give up the desire to control anything. Control is resistance. Rather, reach within, to your true power. Resonance with Source is the true means for directing your life, and especially your behavior during the Great Storm. Act from resonance, not resistance.”
I interrupt, “OK. But what are we to do with the greatest resistance of all—the ego?”
Green answers. “Listen carefully. Listen from beyond ego. Here is a suggestion. When you return, do not empower your separative nature. Open your awareness to the flow and flexibility of the moment. Find it at the root of all movement within you—in the stillness. Allow all change to come from there. Find the full measure of stillness in you. Do this only once. If you do it truly one time, it will de done and done. You will require no further awakening.”
“From there, look out at that illusory pattern we call ego. Look at it from the inside out, as I said before, from beneath it. Watch it like you would a small child. Nurture it, care for it, empower it. Do this with love and conscious intention. Allow your Life force to inhabit this fragile, defensive being. Embrace it from the inside out. Embody it consciously and appreciate it fully. Heal it fully.”
“Then allow the expansion of appreciation to grow up and out through this newly conscious vehicle, the persona nova. It is the awakened ego, host of the living soul. Do this in your purest imagination, not your intellect. Allow the image of this transformation to be born in you.”
B interjects, “Such, friend, is the mystery side. So let it be.”
Green continues, “Now there is another side of your path when you return. Here is what you all may do, pragmatically. It will not come easily, I’m afraid. Come to know your ego, and the egos of others—like never before. Watch continuously. Allow the watchfulness to loosen the grip of separatism in you. You do not have to be this way—under the yoke of an outworn, inferior vehicle. Release the vehicle of separation, and take up the vehicle of Oneness.”
“Awareness of the ego and its patterns, is a most powerful starting point. See the subtle, intimate ways it is woven into your thoughts, feelings and values. It is there everywhere. You need not look far. Your willingness to look is your invitation for evolution to arise within you, and within your institutions, societies, your species. If you can but notice—as [Orange] likes to say—when it is both active and passive in you, you will see how transparent it really is.”
“We have studied you humans, thoroughly now. And what we see most prominently is the shallowness of your defenses. We would have you see the same thing.”
“Shallow?” I react, with a squint.
“Indeed. Your separatism has no depth. In fact it denies depth of consciousness. This is its fundamental weakness. All the problems of your world, all the obstacles to your desired transformation, lie at the feet of this shallowness in you. It is not just the aggressive, domineering, arrogant ego, but also the victimized, withdrawn and resistant sense of self. Any form of defensiveness you feel about yourself needs to be examined and appreciated for what it is. It needs to be filled with light—from within. This you can easily do from where each of you now are. This is the beginning of the change you seek. This is the understanding you may take back with you.”
I see what he is saying. And yet there’s still a smoldering concern in my mind. “I see it clearly now, as you do, G. But I’m afraid that, in my human form, I will lose this awareness, and revert to the fear and doubt, and the hopelessness. Is there something I can do to ensure that I’ll carry back the right message?”
Black answers, raising her hand, as if to make space. “Your body portal is open, friend, nearly ready to employ. This can be your guide and assurance when you return to the Storm. The process of opening, once begun, will not be reversed. Pause now your questioning. Go and revisit your portal; do this in your imagination. Go now, while we wait.”
I’m surprised at this command, but I understand. Immediately I sink within myself, plunging down the beam of light. There before me is the field of portals. My transparent body form is floating with the others, its point of light glowing brighter than ever. I stare and wonder. You, O, said this was the seed. I have planted it, but I must wait for an invitation to enter the portal. What does the invitation look like? Will I know it when it arrives?
Is my mind playing tricks suddenly? The point changes shape. It wobbles and vibrates, opens. It takes on the vesica shape. Could this be the invitation? I approach close, and examine the opening. It is silent, but radiant, like living glass, like the greater lens I witnessed in the beam. Just as before, I’m drawn in, with a burst of light. Everything is twisting and turning, falling, imploding into itself. I’m inside! Down. Down. I’m in the Void again. The sensation is unmistakable, profound. Empty and full. All and nothing. Limitless energy tears my being apart and reassembles it in another space. I am at the Oneness. It is at me. Source.
Blankness. As usual, I experience nothing until I’m back. I’m standing before my body again, feeling the bliss that accompanies the return from the Void. Awe surrounds me. I know the portal is working. That at least! But, alas, I know also it is not my time to cross into the new universe. Not quite yet. I must return to the old one, and for a reason. That reason knows itself within me. I do not need to voice it here. It is another seed-link.
I pop out and back to the cedar room, still holding the hands of my companions. Light from the etheric disk is shining on their faces from below in a ghostly way. What is real? There is an inner process revealing itself here. But what is it exactly? Am I really a vigilan? Or is it just the power of the robe I wear? Does it really matter?
Now, the two seed-links are joining and opening out into my mind. The flat plane of the disk is a plateau, they tell me. It represents my current station, my assignment for this period of my life. I cannot rise higher until the mission is accomplished. My destiny is to fully inhabit this plane and plateau until all my loose energies catch up to me. My body has summoned them from the patterns of the past, from my world, from all the scattered pieces of my soul lying in far away places. I must allow them their time to gather. During this period of accumulation, I will continue to better know myself, to see through the illusion, and to renegotiate my ego contract. I will continue to act as a translator for the letters of O.
It dawns on me that this plateau is a cause for the frustrations I’ve been feeling lately in my world. I’ve been wanting to rise and shift prematurely. But it’s not yet my time. It’s finally clear to me in this moment. I recall it’s what you already explained to me before. With this reaffirmed knowledge, perhaps I will be more content when I return. Perhaps. At least I’ll know why I feel what I feel. This could be progress.
Copyright © 2011 by Robert Lee Potter
Letters From 500 