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You As Angelic Messenger: What I See About You

(This appeared in FB 11/3, in case it looks familiar).

What if you really believed you came here to perform a great service for humanity? What if you really, really knew that you had superpowers that you have developed over lifetimes, over millennia?

Close your eyes… see yourself as this person, this sacred servant, this messenger and oracle, this light. Can you see her? Is he present in your thoughts, right now? Conjure this image, here and now. What is she wearing? What light shines from his eyes? Can you see it? There’s nothing more important than this at this moment.


Because I believe what I’ve written describes you. It describes me, too, and everyone else. The only factor in the birthing of this Holiness into the world is our own beliefs, the machinations of our mucous minds, sublunary circumspection to which the eternal soul is not subject.

After all, the truth of the soul isn’t compelled to believe what the mind understands about it. Soul doesn’t succumb to those limitations. Yet, the mind is the gatekeeper to what the embodied soul can accomplish in this plane. Our work, then, is this: to remove the limits that the mind places on the soul.

In this strange land, Soul can’t drive where the mind won’t take it.

So, where do the limitations to which the mind is subject originate? They almost always come from the stories our traumas tell us. And they’re convincing. Relieving our minds of these stories, then, is the work of the soul. It’s our spiritual imperative.

How do we do that? After all, the traumas happened. Soul would never lie to the mind and say they didn’t. Such wouldn’t be compassionate, and might miss what wisdom can be milked from them.

How then, do we relieve our minds of these sticky stories, so our souls are freer to manifest their angelic aims? The simple answer is that we die to the past.

Whoa. That sounds scary. What does it mean?

It means we use any tool in our repertoire to make peace with those noisy demons, to hear their sad stories and wipe their tears, and tuck them into bed with a kiss. As they sleep their terrors away under our own care, these Ghosts of Traumas Past fade, the emotion taken out of their tales until only wisdom remains, a faint outline of tears on wet pillows.

This is our work; to not only die to the past, but to compassionately support one another in the others’ deaths, in our individual evolution, and in the calming of the individual and collective mind.

And one day… one day… one day… we’ll look around and see Superheroes on every corner. Ghandi will be our next-door neighbor, and Mother Teresa will babysit our children. Mother Earth will once again trust the humans, and the plants and animals will thank us for sharing this sacred planet with them. Eden will cease to be a tale of a lost paradise because it will bloom within each of us, and the Feminine and Masculine will fall in love again, and stop robbing each others’ stores of strength.

It all starts with belief. And it’s as simple as this deep understanding: I have gifts that the world needs, and I hold the

keys to their manifestation.

Do you believe this about yourself?

I do.

(Artist talented, but unknown)

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