I've been receiving a lot of deeply complex channeled messages lately - of all levels of intensity. Most of it has to do with this dramatic and sudden infusion of sacred and native ancient wisdom flooding our world. So many ancient traditions and knowledge are coming back up to the collective surface - the "New Earth". As I really go deep and spend time with it, it is becoming incredibly clear that the real moment that is unfolding is actually a test, a spiritual trial and an

What if we’re wrong about ego? What if the highest form of ego is actually imagination? What if instead of trying to suppress and shame your ego, you elevated it? What if you envisioned your absolute purest potential, pushed the dream as far as it could go - let it stretch beyond even your capacity to believe in what’s possible? The problem with humans is that so often we are just stuck and used to seeing the lowest vibration of ego expressed in the world around and within us

Traveling at the Speed of Mind To realize suddenly that the world inside of you is far vaster and more kaleidoscopic than anything ever imagined; that when you truly turn inward you become connected with the whole of everything, from corner to furthest corner - and simply to think of it is to energetically bond with it, altering it microcosmically... self also forever inexplicably altered, expanded, made more. To understand then... that on this wild ride clearly none of us ar

My life lately has turned inside itself, twisting like a shed skin rattling around inside this skeleton - backwards, I know. But that is this feeling I walk in, an inverted sense of being upside down and somehow not falling through the cracks… I am still here, still this me wandering through the day, performing the normal agreed upon daily habits like a mostly normal human does. Yet inside me something is on fire. I keep trying to shake it loose, but I just keep seeming to f

There is a predominant spiritual belief that we access our greatest growth through the lens of experiencing suffering. Buddhism, Christianity, and so many others are based on parables of suffering leading to enlightenment, to salvation. I believe this is not really the full Truth - it is this lie that we have accepted for hundreds of years, part of the maya, a layer of the matrix, separation from unity. If you have ever spent time studying suffering, the pain body (Eckart Tol

I am flow, centerless, a conduit for the wondrous and impossible beauty of this universe. Soft cool, gentle sound. Stillness. “She” is present in the self, goddess of the personal. “She” is the search to be more and more. If only she were a planet instead of a person… A world within a universe. A she within an eye. She stretches wide the ribs around her heart to give herself a better view. The world wanders in. There is conviction in the attempt to express experience. Convict

SHADOW WORK You can only run for so long before you have to stand and face what hunts you, what haunts you. Otherwise you will forever be running away from the direction of a better you, just on the other side of your shadow. MEDITATION CONTEMPLATION: Sit and consider what is it in your life right now that you are not allowing yourself to face fully. Spend time investigating whatever comes up for you. Stretch into the space that it opens up - there is so much potential for gr

Meditation: Sit quietly and contemplate or journal on what the perfect day looks and feels like for you. No limitations. Allow yourself time to hear everything that comes up right away - is it all the stressful things that instantly tell you not to waste your time ... I don't have the money or the time I need to enjoy this fantasy... is it something so wildly unrealistic you just can't let yourself lean into it? Is it something small or something big that comes up? Is it spec

We of the valley of the first storm, sit inside a Self that spins eternal - a single drop of water at the center of an endless pond, ripple after ripple. We are the original chaos, the mother of creation, the moment of first order, language without origin, both crest and trough. We of the all that flows endlessly from the nothing, from focal point to periphery - subtle petals of a perfectly unfolding lotus, a sacred expression of cascading harmony lapping at the wa

Tenderness... brutal and sharp, vulnerable - violet crocus against empty snow. In this shining void i can't seem to find the leak much less determine if things are spilling out or pouring inwards. How much belief is too much belief? Sometimes growth is a bullet.

Tesselating rhythm of a beating heart, of a bleeding heart; Lost in the sound within the sound like an echo that stretches on and on in a cave of infinite beyond. Imagine passing through that point of the event horizon where all and nothing stretches so thin existence breaks... No self can survive in that void - so then, what comes out the other side?

So much chaos hindering momentum... bits of oscillating space junk in the atmosphere of my mind, what started as clear skies now needs cleansing. A cascade of sharp rain, soft pain, needles behind the eye begging for attention - migraine or intuition? Used to feel so connected to the source behind, beneath, within it all... now I just feel quiet and alone. But even that has a mind of its own. There is no need to compromise values and energy when it's just me orbiting this los

It was a hot day even with the windows down. His legs stuck to the vinyl seat as he snapped his jazz fingers to the heartbeat of the radio. She sat with her face in the wind, still and quiet. They slid down the street in his rusted heirloom of a Camaro. It was second-hand transportation but they wore it like movie stars. It was a slick day. The kind that slides its belly along the streets. The sun was humming, loudly and fluorescently like a ceiling light. It was a hot day.

I want to be the empty hanging frame and the wall. Nail. Hammer. The blue missing in a gray day. I want to be the point of twilight where the entire world vanishes. The finger that converses with the petal of a flower. Spilled salt and nearly empty dishes. I want to be the photograph that is out of focus but compelling, none-the-less. Cosmic image of cosmic Self. I want to be buried with the bones of the native's feast, and rubbed along the hot embers of a dying campfire only

Jurassic forest floors long since swallowed up by waves of bleach-grained beaches, overgrown trails winding through Autumn mountains, remnants of leaves, coniferous greens now umber, still scented like cold pine - the language buried in campfire signals, ley lines and worn river rocks... that deep and whispering code just at the edge of comprehension, damp and ancient. Smoke rises, lingering like a shadow, a haunting dawn breeze, here then gone... so much of the world already

Damp and green - the entire world it seems. Blue and gray striations sit low and heavy against the white sky, post-storm atmosphere over muted blue water. Rain drops pool on leaves and petals, gather and slip, tipping over the sides to lap at the ground. Gentleness - cool in the wet air. This is the kind of afternoon one can feel at the tips of their fingers - a conversation, energy being exchanged between the whirling atoms of self and the atoms of greater chaos outside the

No choice for us but to linger - still tethered to the weight of here & now as you float away freely on the thermals of cosmic godliness. Soar, brother. Til we meet again. This piece was donated to the Pass The Good Foundation and the Beck family in loving memory of Stewart Beck. Miss you, buddy!