My Story

Ah, meditation today began with the vision of a blue and white energetic stream, the color of crystalline mountain water and bands of white clouds, flowing upward from my heart like a twisting waft of smoke, curling next downward, and looping like a playful thing – such a surprise after my intense effort yesterday to repair my aura.

Last night, I wrote “my story” in super-short form, telling who I believe I am, based on experiences I’ve had which did not at all fit my construct of reality, but which I could never, over the course of decades, convince myself were not real.

So I think it’s time to publicly admit my beliefs, regardless that they embarrass me somewhat – embarrass me because I’ve sneered at others who’ve written or spoken things like these.  But I must tell this story, as information for others trying to assess the nature of reality and as a step in my process of becoming a more-coherent human being.

My Story

I’ve had at least six lives on Earth that I can recall and a long life, or series of lives, somewhere in the Pleiades, which when I left was the only life I knew or at least had been familiar with for a long time.  It quieted me to see the star cluster withdraw and know it would be another “long time” (if ever) before I would see the place again.  (And now, my heart feels as though it is absolutely not in my chest when I remember this.)

On Earth I remember lives only as women:  a sensuous tree-dwelling pygmy, a frightened three-year-old in some feudal state, a European country girl in love, a gypsy with a friend in traditional bangles and scarves, a recently deceased Anglo pioneer hovering on the Earth plane near her Native husband as he was drug to his death behind a wagon so that our daughter would not be raised by him or his tribe, a member of Cochise’s tribe when we lost our land and freedom, and a Native American college student arriving home to spend time with her loving family.

I am also connected to beings in a nearby dimension who feel like family – far more than my parents or siblings do.  A few of these beings seem like people I’ve read about or heard of in our history, and I’ve had a very strange aversion to reading certain books, as though I already know the history and reading this version might upset me.  Some of the figures I’ve met in other dimensions I realize later seem like mythological characters often depicted as cartoons in our culture or in some other limiting way, so I hesitate to identify them as such.

There are also beings on the other realms whom I work to avoid, though it most often feels that my life’s current destiny is to be engaged with them for some reason I assume is either good for me or good for all.  Those other unpleasant entities seem the result of my having been a mind control subject as a child.  (Documentation is elsewhere.)

I was born into a family on the edge (I assume) of the Elites:  Eisenhower means iron hewer, a metal worker.  These people were masters of a craft kept secret in a guild society controlled by royalty.  Members of this lineage are tested for loyalty, given many advantages, and groomed for service in secret societies still.  I was seduced to the door, walked in, was initiated, then changed my mind a month later and bailed.  Mysteriously, my memory of the initiation ceremony has disappeared except for a one-second peek.  Then I ran away from home (at age nineteen), broke some of my programming (how much I don’t know), and have been struggling ever after to fully free my mind.  Sometimes I seem to do very well in life, often when I’m engaged in mainstream business.  Most often, I struggle.

Ever since my nervous breakdown (essential for healing, and in my case probably part of my programming break-down) in 1993, I’ve been increasingly aware of things going on behind the mediated scenes.  I’ve twice consciously experienced my own body’s in-the-moment manipulation for a few minutes while my consciousness screamed No.  

I also sometimes experience healing events and other Carlos Castaneda-type events which I can’t yet judge as good or bad.  Sometimes I feel as though I just returned from somewhere else, sometimes I feel like I’m encased in a healing vibrational cocoon, and sometimes I feel hit by an energetic something with which I struggle mightily.  Sometimes, mysterious things leave bruises or scars on me, which I sometimes photograph and post.

Did I choose this life?  (It used to piss me off royally when people told me that we all chose our lives or, worse, that I have created this through my own thinking it, and I could make it disappear if I would quit.)  We could say it was just the luck of the draw – someone had to be born into the heart of darkness – and maybe that was it.  Perhaps it’s karma; I hate to think I earned this….

My choice of explanation is that I was strong enough to do this, and someone had to go in, like a cosmic spy, and relay back to the rest of my warrior tribe reports on the psyches of the Elites who have created our war-making, children-torturing, money-driven System, so that it could be disabled.  My birth into the darkest heart gave my tribe an inside view to help it more fully understand the System and help devise a plan to transform it.

While I’ve gone through my spasms of pain and paranoia, fear, grief, terror, despair and  suicidal urges, my tribe on the other dimensions has been regularly healing me, energizing me, blocking my awareness when I was too young to understand, and basically helping me get through, while also using what they learned to help turn the tide or execute some other plan for Earth.

And if that’s not the case, and if this is all just a story (an amazingly grandiose story, it might be called), then at least it offers me hope for my soul and hope for our transformation.

Both the light and the dark have been very active in my life – and up to fairly recently.  Every day I hope to never confront the dark ones again, but it’s clear that the polarity on Earth is still active, and someone has to be in the interface – the space between the white and black paisleys of the yin-yang symbol.  And even though I often feel that the energy pouring down on me is so positive and strong that I think we’ve already turned the corner and entered Heaven, I assume nothing.  Activists are those on the interface; I’m an activist, so here I am.

I’m here to testify that we Earth humans are not alone, either in the cosmos or here on Earth.  There are many, many technologies employed by the Elites to keep us passive and, yes, mind controlled.  A few people see it; far fewer, I fear, act in ways that will serve their survival when mind control is increased.

I struggle regularly with this apparent destiny, which seems to be to live in awareness of the darkness and to shine light on it.  Few live through the experience of it and maintain the ability to speak.  How am able?  I assume it’s my help on the other dimensions, as I’m not that personally strong.  (Ask anyone who knows me.)

Also, I think they don’t crush me because I do such a lousy job.  I sabotage my work frequently.

Sometimes I wonder if the existence of this soul-enslaving system is a figment of my imagination, but I believe this enslavement has been the number-one fact of human history, from ancient Sumer until this day, and it’s time we woke up to the fact that our luxury comes at the enslavement of others, many others.  Some, like Ayn Rand, will justify that; others might want to decide, but we can’t if we don’t acknowledge it.

And now our destiny hangs in the balance while the prophesies talk about the end of an age.  I’m putting my stock there, in change, in which I believe we must participate consciously.  Toward that end, I remind myself of these things:

* Change has always happened, and big change is prophesied.

* Powerful systems are often brought down from within.

* Earth’s powerful system today depends on the cooperation of minions who have little loyalty to it.

* The minions know that at some point they’ll be expendable, and at some point they can change the game.

* It is in their ultimate best interest to help change it.

Besides changing things on Earth, I also have hope in other realms as an escape.  Perhaps some of us will disappear like the Anasazi.  Or the others will disappear as in the Hopi prediction (told to their children, so I’ve heard) that “one day, the bad people will all just be gone” – opposite the Christian story, in which the righteous will be the ones “raptured.”  This apparent contradiction might be reconciled by another prediction with which I’ve resonated, that there’ll be a dimensional/vibrational rift, in which the Earth will move into two or more different future time-lines, where leaving and staying have no meaning.

Every year, the river of my life brings me amazing experiences of bliss, challenge, and everything in between.  As a child, tortured, I was pushed through the veil, where I saw that this realm was not the only one.  Today, I am sometimes granted healing and visions, and sometimes I dance with the devil.  I’ve written a lot about the latter, so it’s only proper now that I tell more of my story.

One of my demons has been the fact that my mind has been fractured by trauma-based mind control.   There are actually, sometimes, advantages to being multiple (psychological survival, for one, and a “diversified portfolio” of skills), and I hope to learn more ways to consciously make my condition more useful, but so far it’s often been a disability.

For instance, I go to the store, and an alter (alternate personality) comes out who’s great at making small talk, but she has little to do with the rest of me.  Some other part of me might have shared a personal story with someone the day before, who’s now at the store, but the alter yesterday is not out now, and the one who’s shopping doesn’t remember much about this friend when she says hi.  I struggle to cycle though a few “files” of personalities before I can retrieve the memory, but often the critical moment is lost and I might never have the chance to explain my struggle to the friend – very disappointing and often almost convinces me that I should remain a hermit.

But my destiny doesn’t seem to be in hermitage, and my extra-dimensional help keeps coming to my rescue – sometimes not soon enough, I think – but I keep on going anyway.

When my extra-dimensional help does take care of me, it’s beyond anything I could have imagined.  It clears me to my very soul and convinces me that I will not die and I don’t want to.

Because I’ve written a lot about the dark events, and people remember those best, I am probably known to a lot of people as the woman who’s all about “that stuff.”  When I occasionally write about the Light, I imagine it is difficult for many to reconcile in our culturally encouraged, black-and-white thinking.

So something moved me to summarize my whole complex story and remind folks that things are rarely static black or white:  I was born into a very dark situation, my mind became fractured, I’ve healed with extra-dimensional help, and I’m in a sometimes-daily battle to keep steady and nurture my dreams for myself and the whole of us.

I’ve seen the enemy, and it is not only us.  It’s partly us, but it’s also way beyond us.  It’s our ancestor’s patterns of abuse, which have been hidden from us, and which we’re called to transform.  The task is huge, but we’re not alone.  Everyone with a concept of Self as a sentient being connected to the powers of Creation needs to be sure to tap into those Other Powers and see what they need to be doing right now.  I’m here to testify that this is not a picnic.

If my life and my teetering on the edge of it, suffering sometimes beyond what I thought I could bear, has had any purpose, I think it’s to say this:  Our place in history is not meant to be a picnic, an indulgence in whatever we might enjoy.  Enjoyment is lovely, and I want more of it also, but we have work to do.

For over a year (am I right?) Bradley Manning suffered in solitary confinement for trying to get you the information you now get over Facebook and in your email; Congress is right now trying to take that freedom from you.  Many activists, like Leonard Peltier, Mumia Abu Jamal, and Judi Bari, are in prison for life, or dead, for telling truths that someone desperately needed for them to expose but the Elites wanted to repress.  Some like me are waking up with their bodies Taser-burned and no memory of what happened to them, but a dreadful feeling.

This battle is not a civilized one; it is brutal and involves far worse than what I’ve written here today.  If you have the liberty to visit your Congress person to talk about American human rights, please do.  If you can feed someone who is hungry, please do.  If you can give energy to any project that serves your community, please do, and thank you.  And if you can offer compassion to someone like me who seems sometimes to be crazy, please do.  We’ve all got stories, and I do believe we’re, most of us, trying our best to make sense of a world that is for the most part hidden from nice people like you.

If the Earth does go through any cataclysms, from environmental poisoning to pole shift, I know that we, as souls, will eventually continue on somewhere, learning, evolving, transforming.  But I believe the next life will be easier if we do this work now to transform what we can of this situation here on Earth, particularly to work for justice.

Some say the coming Earth changes will trigger our transformation to the next new evolutionary state.  I don’t know.  But I’m open to the possibility of expanding my soul into something less trapped on this plane.  My experiences in the other dimensions have been so much nicer than most of what I experience here.

In any case, I’m inspired by the possibilities – which are infinite.  We have help on other realms, but we also need to do the work today.

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