And so we come to the final chapter in Life of Source. It seems that life on this planet is getting more unwound by the events that are tearing this humanity apart. One can imagine a SciFi movie of a doomed future, with buildings in rubble and people wandering the terrain with no hope. This could be the way it will be if we allow the ignorance to flourish. Finding those who are more in tune with planting seeds of awakening is the way we must go. There are many around us. Let’s reach out and join our hands with theirs.

Today Robert sent me a new stream resonating in the voice of Omis who participates in this adventure of the future:

“These books are ‘irregularities’, both in the way they are written—streamed—and in the content they offer. They speak in paradox of the Now, the past and the future as one. They are artifacts from another time—out of time—sprinkling evidence of the unknowable, invisible, seeming impossible things ‘unseen, yet hoped for’, longed for in your new dream—the icon of your evolution. In a phrase, they are intended to stimulate faith in the soul.”

And so it is, for now, in the Epilogue of Life of Source.

 

I am sitting in my room. V is only the memory of an inner voice to me now. Nevertheless, she is real enough. I rest content that we are completing this work. I feel we have founded her project well. I wonder at what last words she might have. I don’t have to wonder long.

V speaks straightaway, “There is lineage to Source that I would have you contemplate. It begins, obviously enough, with Source. And then it climbs, for lack of a better word, into echelon after echelon, spreading forth into the world of manifestation that we know. I will quickly list the progression and then return for further explanation.

First, Source flows into Life; then it embodies the I am state. From there it becomes Presence and thence, Vitality and Sensation. From there it enters the Senses, then Feelings and finally it comes to Mind. Here is the progression in brief: Source: Life: I am:  Presence: Aliveness: Vitality: Sensation: Senses: Feelings: Mind.”

I ponder for a moment what I’ve written down and then ask, “Why is ‘mind’ last? The list seems straightforward enough to me, except that mind is last. The progression seems, for the most part, to be moving from formlessness into form. Wouldn’t the mind fit in before ‘senses’ then?”

“Indeed, it would so seem to the human mind. The progression, however, is not simply from formless to form. It is rather the relative density of manifestation. Contrary to common human thinking, the mind is the densest part of you, physical form and matter notwithstanding. The physical world holds much that is light and etheric—such as the ‘field’ dimension. The mind, however, has taken on, as its role in you, the concretization of essence. It analyzes the progression out from Source and believes that it must condense all understanding into a finite block of comprehension. It craves structure and hard knowledge—density.

“Comprehension, as Omis recently pointed out, takes its meaning from the Latin, ‘grasp together’. Your minds would grasp and bind it all into a fixed system of logic and completed revelation. Mind represents the opposite of Source. Source has no ‘completion’ in its intention and destiny. Source is forever open, unfolding and realizing new realities—it begins again endlessly, instantaneously. Human minds insist on endings, answers and closure of understanding.

“Thus does mentation end the progression—or so it would seem to the mind. Reality, however, is not linear; the straight line exists only as a concept in the mind. Reality is curvy, open and endless.”

I sigh. “V, can you tell me where you’re going with this? What’s the objective here?” (more…)

Instead of the crystal-domed Grand Palais, there is a luminous, etheric mountain behind Omis. It climbs vertically hundreds of meters. Its façade is carved with countless openings and large, high windows. Immediately in front of us is the gaping arched entrance we’ve visited before. I see into the interior where exquisite marble floors stretch inward. Along their way, the spacious halls branch off into many, smaller passages and caverns. The transparency of the walls adds to our vision of the depths and complexities of this massif. I look back to Omis.

The angelan continues staring at me. “Let me explain that our recent diversion into the process of creation was necessary. This was to alert you to your role here. It is the same role for anyone participating in our visit or reading the document you are producing. If you are seeing, hearing or listening to these proceedings, you—as authentic Source—are creating them. It then becomes your responsibility and opportunity to unfold their meaning and value—by virtue of your identity with Source!”

Omis motions us into the Akasha now. We seem to glide, more than walk, into the sacred space. As with the other visits I’ve made, I see everything is made of golden light—the floors, the pillars and walls, the vines and trees that cling to the escarpments. I recall that each centimeter of the substance around us is composed of memories from lifetimes lived by countless trillions of incarnate creatures from all over the Cosmos.

Each lifetime is held in a pristine sphere of vital remembrance. If it is embedded in the floor or wall, it somehow generates the flatness required to represent the marble form. As we walk, our feet are treading on these lives. It’s rather like walking over graves in a cemetery. It does no disrespect, however. We are not actually touching anything as we move; hence, the sensation of gliding. We float a millimeter above. (more…)

V and I drift for a long while within the Void. It is at once like a memory and a presentiment of all other experiences—ever; but as always, the reality is only Now. Time has slipped away into inconsequence. We are enfolded and embraced by the great, grand, ineffable emptiness, the ocean of creation. Even in its holy, omnipresent grandeur there is also a tingling intimacy in every point of space. This is the vast Mother of all, the ultimate, universal ‘Mary’ and ‘Grace’.

In this grace we float on inchoate waves of inspiration. There is no thing, and yet there is essence of all things yet to be or that ever were. A gentle feeling of falling attends the floating. I realize now—after all my visits—why it always feels like I’m falling: The Void is ever opening below, into greater and more infinite depths. It draws us down into its bosom, beyond any estimation of what might lie there. The profundity is the falling sensation—inspiration yet to be formed. In this space, I understand at last, it is ‘opening’ that I’ve always interpreted as falling. I have at last grown comfortable with the Void! It is the eternal opening of Source, archetype to the vesica piscis.

I naturally lose mental memory of the experience as it proceeds. Nevertheless, there is an impression that feeds back. It is first and foremost bliss, indefinable and pristine. This, I was told long ago, is the feeling generated by returning from formlessness. It is a visceral reaction in counterpoint to the negation of all senses; paradoxically, it is also the root of original sensation. The bliss is nearly without form; it feels like utter peace. Yet it has a scintillating resonance toward all forms. Bliss is the feeling of Oneness as it crosses into duality and the manifold worlds.

As we contemplate crossing back, out of the peace, there is a stirring and a primordial stimulus to move. And so, I move. Within my mind I see an idea take form. It glistens like a dewdrop. I stare into it for a time, realizing ‘time’ again. We are beginning again. The ‘we’ turns outward into ‘me’, and me turns into ‘other’, which is V. Within the drewdrop, the idea shapes more detail; its texture generates a thought, a word, a voice.

V gives expression to the vibration, “Come back, my friend. We have been deep enough for now. You’re holding all the essence you can manage for the moment in that human body of yours.”

In my perception, she is nothing more than a smile at this point—an open, amused appreciation of my humble place in the universe. I don’t care. I accept what is, what I am. It is all well and good. I am at peace. Yet I do sense a change; the momentum is rising in us. Something is stirring. I look out and see the Threshold to the Void, the outside edge of Emptiness. It is a fantastical beacon defining an infinite horizon. It grows, as does the luster of time itself, into a form and presence.

At once, the beacon reshapes into a radiant aura. The grand Threshold space spreads beyond us into all directions, sweeping around a limitless sphere of nothing. It seems as though it might contain the Void; such is the play of paradox here—like atmosphere around a globe. Into this atmosphere we are drawn, wisps of sacred spirit sucked into the air. (more…)