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Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam

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    "Yatha drishti, tatha shrishti": As the mind is, so the world appears. If we see the world as “dark," it is the projection of our thoughts. The actual world is made of abundance, light, infinite quantum particles of divine love. The radiance is so triumphant now that it is exposing centuries of hidden shadow, institutionalized corruption, and willful ignorance. The time is coming soon when children will wonder why previous generations ever thought they needed governments. We will solve situations before they become “problems,” and before they become “political.” We will need no global organizations, world religions, or even nation states. No popes, supreme ayatollahs, or international gurus. Our spirituality will be personal, celebrated in local shamanic circles. We will conduct our affairs intuitively, without written codes of law, on an infinitely local, personal level of I-Thou relationship. We will hear the stars sing our names in the silence of th...
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'Rest In The Heart' (A New Book)

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Our work is to rest in the Heart. It is deep action. Keeping the Heart open, a window. Not so that something flows into us, but a rainbow of beauty and power flows out, angels and elemental spirits weaving our beams of un-created light into a New Creation. Softness of the heart is courage. Reposing in openness is our true nature. Not to be anything or anybody, but just to Be, creates. Gives birth. There is no "timeline" leading from here to there. The "shift" is not an event in the future, but shifting awareness to this moment, this body, this breath... Above is one of the pages, a mandala from 'Rest In The Heart.' Here is the link where you can order the book from Rashani's website. Of course it's also on Amazon. https://www.rashani.com/booksandjournals/p/rest-in-the-heart  
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Truth Is Not Information (Video)

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Almost all channeled information, astrology, psychic reading, or prophecy, is about  the past or the future. But Truth is never in time. Truth is Presence. 
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Pentacost

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Who knows what fills a sparrow's tiny chest at dawn? Who knows why a smile alights on your lips with wings of faithful uncertainty? Or why this tear, condensed from the distance between nameless stars, suddenly blurs green earth with gratitude? Don't tell. Use music. Each of us must learn from the ringing of broken things in the heart that happiness has nothing to do with being sure. Feathered air descends upon your breastbone from the soft spot nested on your crown. Your exhalation, A silent tongue of fire. No path led you here to this impermanence of mothwing and wild anemone, mountain aster and Indian paint bush seeded by breezes beside a meandering snow-melt stream. The art of lingering. The art of disappearing. Don't tell. Use music. There is no death in this meadow. A radiance in your chest contains me. A radiance in my chest contains you. We are a circle with so many centers even Christ gets dizzy....
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