Faithful Forty: Day 29

It’s all in the details

Today, I realized how fuzzy my mind can really get. Some might even call it, absent-mindedness. This pic was taken today. Can you guess what is really in this image?

That’s how life can be. We are extraordinarily stretched. So too can be our perception. What is our reality, can be someone else’s insanity.

It’s the same with what I think I heard. Just recently I was on the phone chatting away, while waiting for my car to get fixed. The person on the other end was watching over my fur-kids. I heard: ‘they’re a problem.’ What was really said: ‘I’m having fun.’ How did I get that so mixed up?

Well, I don’t like being human, but there it is. I’m only human. Next time you find yourself berating yourself: DON’T. 🙏🏼

Many blessings, Sandi

faithful forty: day five

The deep blackness blanketed me. A vortex bubbling underneath me, as if to remind me I can be swallowed. But instead, shards of wide and encompassing light shown through; the pictures emerging clearly, only to be obscured by shadows.

A clean piece of paper. Words written on it that can’t be read. A language spoken by God. This language passed on to angels. The words and symbols get sharpened. And events on the page take on a chaotic, fogged image. The remaining light and shadows, zero in on more symbols, and words. I don’t know what this means. Only that it churns with intensity and power. As if I have to understand it. Yet, I can’t, yet I do.

I got here in this place, because I relaxed my entire body and quieted my mind. My brain became the cauldron of thought, experience, and wisdom shown from God. An outpouring of divine truth, written not in the stars, but a stack of papers. I heard nothing as I lay still. The night stretching into morning, a future I don’t know yet exists. A message one of many, directly from God.

Do I hear His voice? Yes, but it’s not like a human voice. The words are in English, the language I do speak and understand; the meaning foreign and yet familiar. The words on paper not written in ink, but with something else. What does God want to tell me? Is He answering my plea for answers?

As the dark expands, it closes in at the same time. And the vortex becomes an opening. The words, letters, and symbols becoming clearer as if magnified intentionally. Dragging over each patch of knowledge like a sweeping light in a lighthouse, only it’s within me – my entire being.

They look like actual letters of our alphabet. I think I understand.

But maybe that’s the beauty of meditation. Maybe It’s the intention I set. Not to understand words in language understood or spoken, but to experience the magic of getting there. The vast universe, maybe multiverses, and the beauty that exists within them. The violent energetic currents that make, and end stars. Black holes that can’t be seen but admired from a distance as the hole devours everything on its path. The convenience of not having to make a shuttle or aircraft to get to space. That we can touch it with our minds without having to ever leave our physical bodies as we are in them.

It dawns on me now; how truly vast and miraculous God is. In fact, it’s not knowable really. An existence that is not or never will resemble humanity, yet we are His creation. I stumbled upon this form of meditation and I don’t know if I can experience it again. It took a lot of energy and openness to get there in the first place. And in the end, it’s not about a repeatable experience, but rather a successful one. A sacred bond, with no limits. Blessings.