Let It End

Woman, you bleed from a thousand cuts,

your life blood draining away.

Cease now this tragic waste, this martyr’s sacrifice,

come into yourself,

close all the doors,

save your wisdom, let it mature within.

Fear not, it will birth of itself and you will be re-born.

Wisdom is your child,

you’ve been lied to – this is not the way to heal!

Let it end here now,

do not carry this forward.

End this insanity now, let it not continue one moment longer.

This is what you came here to do,

to end this insanity, this pointless suffering,

it is not brave, it is not noble,

it is insane.

This insanity is not your design, not your truth.

Let it be done with now.

 

© Lynn Paterson 2016

The Lost Dreams

Alone, walking on the beach.

No, not alone but with thoughts and feeling of loss, sadness and grief of that which has been lost, or not accomplished. Taking a breath, letting it go. Allowing the next breath to come to me; to welcome it, to receive it fully, without effort.

In a dream of fluid reality, my thoughts swim out to the sea, emptying the mind with each departing wave.  Incoming, the waves gently arrive on the shore.  As with the breath, there is always something coming and going…

Then, a new, old wave, intones in this rarely empty mind: ‘Oh broken spirits of yesteryear, come unto me and I shall make you whole again.’

Looking down, I noticed a small silver fish; it was swimming towards the sand rocks, determined and vigorous in its course.

“How shall I see thee?” I asked.

“You shall see me where and when thee needs to for it is thee that is the Source of all things – thou doesn’t knoweth this yet as Truth… until then you must look to find the infinite within the finite as that is where the mind blips out of existence and no-thing can hide the Truth of Love.”

A dog barked in the distance, a reminder to be doggedly determined.  Not to give up but to continue as a barking dog does, not exactly knowing what is happening but following some inner prompt of a disturbance that needs attention.  Attention, attention, the dog barks – pay attention!

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©Lynn Paterson 2016

For Her

I cry for the little girl who was rejected.

I cry for the child who was ignored, and for the baby who wasn’t loved,
Deeply I grieve for her – she, who was never told she was enough, more than enough.

That time after time the message has been you are not good enough, you are not enough,

For what love there was did not include her.

Never was she completely seen for what she is – and Her veiled appearance became her personality,

Too many times he only saw his reflection bouncing back to him; he did not allow himself to see Her,
And so the parts unseen in her could only reflect himself,
No wonder he cannot love Her, for he can only see himself.

Is it possible to love her for who and what she is?
Not to approve of her,
To be acknowledged for who and what she is, not for approval, not for acclaim,
For Her.

© Lynn Paterson 2016

Cry of the Wild

Some years ago I was interacting with an archangel called Ariel. These interactions took the form of both channelled sessions and more intimate personal interaction through the mind/heart. In the channelled sessions I got to exchange verbal communication which was wonderful, and dialoguing with an 11th dimensional entity was tremendously exciting to me, especially as I’d been fascinated with angelic consciousness for some years. Ariel was a fabulous teacher and a wonderful friend – I was profoundly moved each time we connected through the channel, who was Isaac George, my partner at the time. Thanks to Isaac and Ariel, I got to explore many metaphysical topics and matters of conscious evolution as well as very personal issues and healing too.

There was one session which included a conversation about the nature of consciousness, which was a common topic of ours. When talking of consciousness, what needs to be understood is that perspective changes everything and the nature of consciousness depends entirely on individual perspective and as such is not a static understanding, but a fluid, ever changing knowing, of understanding, and lack of understanding. However, that does not distract from the power of the moment in which I saw clearly for the first time how consciousness acts upon itself to ‘reunite’ itself.

As Ariel talked, I listened with my whole body, allowing the body and mind to soften, relax and open and did not attempt to interpret or analyse what I was hearing. (This is a method I recommend and continue to employ and share today.) What I saw was that consciousness is all that there is. There is consciousness that knows this, and there is consciousness that doesn’t remember this (yet). That which knows acts upon that which does not know. Or it could also be said that as we remember  and align with ourselves, everything re-constitutes itself to reflect/show that. Ariel explained “When you embody the Source consciousness with your particular faculties, you are in a position to demonstrate it. And when you are in a position to demonstrate it and you do that, everything around you re-constellates without you even thinking of doing that.” This is consciousness acting upon itself.

I saw completely without doubt or any possibility of failure, that consciousness will succeed in having its way, because there is nothing other than consciousness, and in truth there is no ‘way’ as such. There is no stopping consciousness. Indeed, even to use the word ‘stop’ infers it is possible to stop, and this is simply not the case. One might say consciousness is like the most virulent, unstoppable virus affecting everything in its path, with nothing escaping; but this still does not fully describe the truth, power and ‘isness’ of consciousness.’ It is all there is. There is no success or failure possible, everything just ‘is’.

This was a tremendously exciting vision of the nature of consciousness and it gave me incredible hope and trust in the world we live in. I came into the peace of knowing that there is really nothing that needs to be done. I knew it was simply a matter of time till consciousness ‘healed’ itself and that, whilst I may wish things to speed up and improve, I had to let all ideas of timing go. It was a process already under way and I was but a part of a great ocean and yet that ocean would not be the same without me. Session over, but still contemplating this revelation, I wandered out into the back garden and just stood in the beautiful evening sunshine in the midst of nature, in the quiet of the countryside near to Loch Lomond. A thought crossed my mind that as I must be patient, it was indeed the most idyllic location to be patient in and my heart opened more with the gratitude of being here, immersed in nature, and through that, connected with the world as a whole. I saw myself in future moments, coming out here again and again, standing in this beautiful place and just feeling the world soul, nature and the humans within it. In such timeless moments we become aware of the eternal nature of who we really are.

As I breathed and meditated with this, my mind opened to a question, “I wonder what how this transformation of consciousness will actually look like as it happens. How will things change?”

An image arose in my mind of women going out into their back yards, gardens, to small concrete or paved areas, out onto the back street, on the beach, in the woods, somewhere, anywhere, but standing out there and sounding their voice without inhibition. I saw ordinary women from all over the world doing this. Some were screaming, some howling, others crying, or shouting, or yelling, some were doing all of the above. Some of these women were shouting because they were happy, some were very sad and full of grief, others so angry and as mad as hell. There were anxious, fearful women and those who were joyful and ecstatic. There were those who were quietly, desperately depressed and hopeless. Many women were lonely and isolated. All ordinary, no matter who or what they were, and their ordinariness was remarkable; it did not matter who the woman was, or what she had or hadn’t done in the world, her voice was her voice, unique and welcome on Earth. They were just doing what all women may do naturally when not concerned with how it looks or whether they’ll be called unreasonable, hysterical or emotional – they were just being themselves. They were women who on one level or another, were awakening to the truth of their feelings; they were not thinking about their feelings, they were expressing them, in the moment.

What struck me as most remarkable was that each woman was simply just doing ‘her thing’ with no preconceived idea of whether it would change anything or indeed matter in any way at all. I saw thousands of women around the globe doing this, yet I saw no plan or coordinated event, no direction, no aim; in fact, nothing but the wild cry of woman. Every woman is whole and autonomous; a universe in herself, diverse, unique and at the same time part of a collective. I understood that the collective does not come first; the individual experience must come first, and from there a collective forms itself, naturally. We’ve had the collective ideal, ‘for the greatest good of all’ and it doesn’t work. Whilst there is a common situation, we cannot rely on current ideologies to ‘fix’ things because that is exactly what happens – they get ‘fixed’ in place and are unmovable, dead, devoid of life. Unity cannot be imposed upon self by some higher grand idealism – it must come as a side-effect of coming into wholeness on an individual basis. Truly there is no greater good for the whole if it compromises an individual’s sovereignty.

In this vison of transformation, individuation is where the power is, not on any belief of solidarity. That does not render solidarity as undesirable. All it means is that for there to be the realisation of full potential for humanity, sovereignty or autonomous self, oneself must come first and foremost. Why? Because the very act of each being themselves creates a whole, a harmony that is wild and free, not forced or contrived, borne of effort and trying to change something; neither was it derived from thoughts that ‘we should’ or ‘it ought to be this way or that’.

This is why the uncoordinated, unplanned, unrehearsed, combined voices of women, long unsung and longing to be heard, do in fact matter, and matter quite literally. For what I saw was these unrehearsed, spontaneous cries joined together through sympathetic vibrations, growing through resonances into powerful waves of sound that quite literally break up matter. They were turning into dust all that is not in harmony with nature; it reminded me of the old biblical story of the Walls of Jericho. I saw the old world quickly crumbling away and new harmonious buildings and infrastructure taking the place of that which is out of harmony. It happened very rapidly in my vision, like a movie on fast forward. I realised it would not really happen like that; it would more likely be a very gradual process and the power of the resonant waves of women would change the world.

It was staggering to see how potentially powerful our own sound is and that each one’s voice affects the whole. When we are spontaneous, free and unrehearsed, we are in the moment and there is no separation of self from experience. It is so powerful that, even without trying to change anything, everything will change, as we simply do what we’ve held back for centuries, let free our cry of the wild.

A final thought entered my mind: That which has been made, may be unmade.

Lynn Paterson 2016 ©

With thanks to Peter, a retired physicist friend of mine who helps me make sense of these experiences and put them into understandable concepts. Edited by Andrew Jurascheck

 

“Everything is determined, the beginning as well as the end, by forces over which we have no control. It is determined for the insect as well as for the star. Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible piper.” ~ Albert Einstein

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Compassion

Reading something, suddenly overcome by compassion for myself, the tears start to come. I see myself in a different light, untainted by the distortion of human perception, free from misunderstood values. Inside, I break into pieces from the realisation of self-imposed hated and judgment. Grief engulfs me as the tender beauty of truth cannot be disguised without paying the price.

“Not even the hardest of rocks can resist the seductive caress of water.”

So much of me is water
I see how gentle I am
How could I have thought I was less than pure?
I see how I affected the rock
With a sweet caress of my soul.

LynnPaterson2016

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The Ordinary is Enough

The

Can it be that simple?

That the ordinary is enough?

That to say the ordinary is exquisite is to detract from the perfection. For the label sticks to it, obscuring the truth. And where there is a label, there is somewhere where there is not.

And that somewhere would be less than. So truly, there are no adjectives required as I realise that the ordinary just IS.

It’s really very funny! I laugh and delight in the simplicity of this, shaking my head in wonder, laughing at the big joke that we create complexities over complexities in a vain effort to improve that which cannot be improved. Nothing can be improved; it’s just not possible to improve perfection just as it’s not possible to extend eternity or look beyond infinity.

How funny!

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Three Types of Love

Eventually it becomes impossible to not remember what One is; no matter which path is taken, the follower will always be taken to the end. And the end is always the end, no matter which path has been taken. There is no where else to go.  Indeed there is no ‘where’ to go to, only the illusion of going, and only the illusion of a ‘where’.

The enigma of travel is such that it disrupts the mind by interfering with so called intelligence.  Indeed there is no such thing as intelligence, as everything is just what it is, in that moment.  No intelligence is actually required for something to appear to occur. There is no occurrence, there is no one to observe an occurrence, there is no ‘One’.  For there to be a ‘One’ supposes that there be other than ‘one’, i.e., more than one, or many perhaps.  Eventually ‘One’ will see that even ‘One’ does not exist other than as a concept. If there is no other than the ‘one’ then there is no need to call itself the ‘one’. Language itself is the evidence of intelligence interfering with reality.  Intelligence interfering with reality is what creates the illusion of physical reality, and of change.

Many times, over and over again, with the appearance of change, is the story experienced. IF there is no agreement to resist, then the story reveals itself for it cannot do otherwise, for it is the story after all.  How could it hide what it is?  Only by agreement of forgetfulness, yet even then, the story is there, in plain sight, but with forgetfulness it appears to disappear, like a reset button is pressed just at the crucial moment of realisation.  There are plenty of techniques and mechanisms in place for this to happen over and over again.  Yet once in a long while, an opportunity, a gap appears, a state of Grace in the silence of the Aeons is known, and in that moment everything ceases to be.  Singularity is experienced and allows the One to know the ultimate of all senses, a sense of wonder, of awe, of Love complete and whole. This Love devours the experiencer, rendering them into nothingness, they cease to be. Agape you might say.

~~~ *****~~~

Now Nature has no need to regard itself, nor regard another.  There is no need for reflection in Nature, for even the still water has no need to reflect anything.  That it does, is simply the perception of that which sees the reflection, nothing more, nothing less. It does not concern itself with what it is doing, nor how it is done, nor anything in fact. It’s really quite simple – it is neither too much nor too little in itself.

It takes a great deal of energy and effort to run resistance in the physical body.  Denial is a hungry master that eats the very flesh of desire and shits out waste that fouls the very environment of self. Allow Eros to roam freely through the body and the experiencer remembers that the physical form is Love manifested into itself. Without denial, there is no closing the door to Eros when he comes knocking and no waste is experienced. Recycling just became obsolete. No waste disposal. No recycling. No ‘wasting’ energy, or time.  That’s already a huge load off isn’t it? Simply put, stopping the practise of resisting yourself is all that is required to be yourself.  Rather obvious eh?

What’s more (or rather, there isn’t actually more as everything is complete, there are many ways to see it) is that the experience of experiencing Eros consuming the body is to understand the paradox of being both form and formless as first One is this, and then One is that.  The very act of Eros is to Love the self into wholeness and then dissolve it once more, over and over again.  Defined and undefined.  Bounded and boundless. Manifest and un-manifest.

To the divided, Eros may seem selfish in its nature, yet it is also selfless when fully experienced, when not denied.  When denied it is petulant and needy, looking only for its own ‘needs’ to be met.  When whole, it is needless, it knows of no needs – the body has no needs when Eros is in residence.  Needs become a strange concept that the self has no need of and this is fucking good. Or good fucking. Or both actually.  This is one of the most delightful  things about the body – it is SO impolite, so rude!  You might say a person is in ‘rude health’ when Eros is in occupation.

~~~ ***** ~~~

Soul Love, altruistic in nature, reaches out and informs the other that they are not alone, that there is someone else to bear witness to the joy and pain of being soul resident in physical form, informed by Spirit and Matter.    For the soul knows such pain, such sorrow and grief at times when forgetfulness takes it far beyond the edges of reason into the abyss of deep despair.  Were it not for the other soul that comes forth and holds out his hand to his brother, then the soul would not see the other in form himself.  Compassion arises through empathy and understanding:

“Sister, where for art thou that I might feel your gentle gaze upon my soul, that which awakens the depth of Love within me and draws it forth to share with the world?”

“Sister of my Soul, look, here I Am, in everyone you meet!”

Eyes meeting Eyes is recognition in the moment as the unguarded gaze reveals self in other. (Eyes = I’s)    Recognition leads to cognition. ‘We’ are here together; two souls, two bodies, one in Spirit. Such joy in sharing, such wonders and delights does the soul get to experience!

“How may I serve thee?”  “How may I be served?” This is the nature of Soul Love.  It is that which bridges the rivers of life and death and goes beyond both.

~~~ ***** ~~~

We, are, here.  We are here to integrate and live through all three expressions of the one Source,  The three lenses of body, soul and spirit. Each may express their uniqueness through the lens of Self. Balance may not be imposed, yet without balance, each one is capable of tyranny, for truthfully, in the Light of the One Source, the Eye of the Eye, there is no balance. In other words, the perception, or belief, that one may outweigh the other is only a limited perception, and this will pass in time.  But in the mean-time (and it can feel quite mean and nasty at times too) each aspect is capable of tyranny because simply put, we must experience tyranny if we believe one can outweigh the other.  This is of course, a perfect method of realising this. Alongside each type of love, is the shadow which appears  when the focus of belief  is shone upon anything less than the whole self.  Shadow may appear as a high or a low. This is of course an illusion, however powerfully real it may seem in the moment, and it is good to remember that this too shall pass.  When all resistance ceases, there is nothing to stop the full flow of Source Self from its perfection and therefore the three types of love, or three lenses of body, soul and spirit, are as One.

©Lynn Paterson 2016