Tower

 

 

You are bathing in the full moon, the solar flare, neutrino storm and gamma-ray shower, the fifth dimensional dust devil of a comet’s trail, dark energy surging from the sacred void at the center of the Milky Way, which is the core of every galaxy, and the black hole in each proton of your body.

You feel intense vibrations irradiate your adrenal glands, the neurons of your neocortex, the DNA in your gonads. This is scary. It's the dimensional shift you've waited 27,000 years to sense in your body. Where did you think this would happen, in the stars? But it’s all good. "Tov!" said the Elohim when He and She created the heavens and the earth. “All good.”

It's a purification-blessing from the Solar Logos. Yet the archangel of our Sun merely forwards these ineffable codes from other, more subtle, multi-dimensional Suns, under the order of the intergalactic council of Melchizedek, who is your own pineal gland, enthroned among seraphic hosts of neuropeptides. Resistance, as they say, is futile.

Open your heart, open every cell, receive the trillion-fold particle-beams transmuting your flesh through the quantum alchemy some call Ascension, but I call deepening Humanity. One thing is clear: veils are dissolving. Use a breath of wonder to polish your inter-dimensional synderesis, the crystal hinge that joins the micro- and macrocosm. St. Thomas Aquinas defined synderesis as the pure intuitive soul, existing on the threshold between time and eternity.

Through this transparent window, behold a New Creation, and through beholding, create. Your spiritual imagination is the Word, echo of Elohim. Bow to the Most High, Most Low, Most Inward Friend. For what seems to descend from above actually percolates out of your body.

Resistance is futile because you resist your Self. Be your own kaleidoscope of divine imagination. Turn, click, and sing, “I Am now the ineffable hologram of singularity, mosaic of All, yet uniquely Me!”

The operant word is Now. The energy-storm is in your solar plexus, as surely as it is in the sky. When you resist, it may feel like going mad, because you experience your own resistance as strange and frightening beams from above, bringing heart palpitation, headache, dizziness, gastrointestinal chaos. The instruction is: surrender, accept, be overwhelmed by the gift of light that shines from a place deeper within you than you have ever conceived. Let this gift expand your heart. You are not just a tremor of vertigo in space: You are space. You are not just a swirl of dust in a sunbeam: You are the sunbeam. 

Inherit the vastness of your true body. You are edgeless. You incarnate the stars, your breath a whorl of supernovae, your cardiac plexus an ocean of graces. What is surrender? To rest in Presence beyond knowing. Your task is not to understand, but to Be.

Imbibe the effervescence that dissolves all distances in love. Become intimate with the star-stuff of the cosmos, which is your own flesh: in the granular sub-atomic field, and the heavenly macrocosm. You are both dimensions simultaneously. The incommensurable blossoms into wonder, into Advaita. For as Jesus taught in the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas, "Those who seek will not stop seeking until they find. When they find, they will be disturbed. When they are disturbed, they will marvel, and rule over the All."
 
You are a tidal wave of pulverized crystals, and each crystal was made of pure light. Let go of the distinction between spirit and matter. Be overwhelmed by glory. Energy is bliss.

Fleeing into any concept of the future or past will not help. Your mythology of time is dissolving. There is no future, no past. None of your old stories tell of this moment. They merely project a layer of outmoded thought-forms upon the dazzling suchness of Being, and weigh down your mind with the ballast of group-think or party propaganda. Stop diluting your Christal uniqueness with collective opinion. Collectivism is the escape of the uncentered: those who merely want to feed on the energy of others. Don't try to resonate with the mean or the average. Resonate with the incomparable singularity of You.

Neither religion nor politics are of any use in passing through the portal that opens in your chest right now, the Ayin Soph just beneath your breastbone, where your xiphisternum pricks the solar plexus like a fencer’s foil, and your out-breath expires in the void. This tiny point of no-thing is the space where worlds are born. Let the next breath arise from here, a New Creation. 

You do not need to visualize it, just feel the energy, the resonance of love. Leave manifestation to the Almighty. Vibrations of love will generate the forms required for this moment, this click of the kaleidoscope, dancing the earth through the action of angels, who are impulses of natural law, high-frequency waves of grace, woven like rainbows into the very fabric of consciousness.

This alchemy of Presence is a radical treatment, the deepest medicine. Cosmic irradiation is not for the faint of heart, or the follower. It is for the alone, the all-one, who becomes, at last, a Person. Be transmuted into who you Are. 

The ocean of love yearns to be Me, to be You, but not to be Us. God’s deepest longing is to individuate. Jesus cried out on the Cross, “It is finished!” It is finished not when the drop falls back into the sea, but when the sea falls into the drop. This is difficult to hear because so much of today's propaganda tries to dissolve the individuated person into an easily manipulated identity-group.

For a little while each morning and evening, or in the terrible darkness when You feel most alone, take time to surrender. Sink into the silence between thoughts. Put all other work aside to spend this moment in eternity. If there is angst, fear, anger, do not label it with concepts or images. Do not make up a story about it. Rather, feel the dis-ease as pure sensation in the body. This sensation can only be Now. Let your dis-ease transmute and alchemize into what it actually Is: free energy of awakened awareness.

A silken lightning bolt, from sacrum to crown, roots You into the center of the planet, even as it furls a filament of courage toward vast spaciousness above your fontanelle. Let this luminous thread ravel You out beyond the Pleiades. Above the nameless, find a star that is your own. Be tethered to this bindhu, this point of un-created brilliance, whose ray has been seeking You over ten million light years. Let the old story of separation dissolve into a bolt of Presence, as the inhalation rises through your crown to the heavens, and your exhalation pours into the ground of divine darkness. Be the stem of the universe, rooted in earth, flowering in galaxies. Through You flows the sap of God.

Entwining your breath around this ever so delicate diamond fiber, You discover that the silken cord is not just inside the hollow of your spine, but your body is actually inside the cord. In a dimensional quantum-leap, this thread of energy within becomes a column of light all around, a tower of invincible beauty. In reality, this ethereal tower is more solid than the world. It is your pillar of stillness, your citadel of peace, your Magdalene. Her name, Magdala, means "tower." The moon-drenched tower of energy is Goddess Shakti, divine feminine, who danced with Shiva at the dawn of creation.

Call her Kali in Sanskrit, Shekinah in Hebrew, Ruh in Arabic. Call her Sophia Wisdom or Magdalene. Give the Goddess any name you like. But understand that She, whose play in the field of God's stillness creates all things, has come to dwell in your body as this very breath.

 

Her ray of grace will burn the virus of small thinking out of your ancient brain, along with every outmoded identification of race, tribe, or nationality. It is time to erase old codes and inscribe the law of love on the tablets of your heart. Let a starry flood of quantum particles cauterize the cancerous ego, flushing out your pituitary gland, your hypothalamus and amygdala, so that these multidimensional organs may resurrect into prisms of divine light.

Now is the time for humanity to outgrow its troubled childhood. The warring of the tribes - Israelite and Palestinian, black and white, left and right, native and immigrant, socialist and capitalist - will never cease until we learn to interpret our wisdom traditions as they were intended: not literally but symbolically. We are not on a journey to any promised land, but to Malkuth, the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom is not a nation between the river and the sea, but as Jesus taught, "the Kingdom of heaven is within You."

So declared the ancient Vedic scripture, "Yatha drishti, tatha srishti: as your mind is, so your world appears." We choose the earth we project into perception. Creator breathes creation through each of us. Let the old world crumble and dissolve into air, with its hierarchies of illusion. Now is the time for You to exhale a new heaven, a new earth, through the hollow reed flute of your heart. 

Humanity is one tribe, one race. We dwell in one homeland, Hridaya. We share one religion, love. Yet we blossom in seven billion colors and fragrances. Not one of us is a general case. Every tear is unique, like a crystal of melting snow. And each one of us pours forth the beauty of the Kingdom through the eye in our own chest. As Jesus said, “When your Eye is single, then your whole body will be filled with light.”

Friend, weave your Kingdom from exquisitely particular threads. Be incomparable. Let each intention, each prayer, each anonymous act of compassion, vibrate with your melody. The chorus is One, but your voice is not mine, and mine is not yours. The chorus is One, because You and I sing our own songs.

Photo, Glastonbury Tor by Michell Cowbourne