2015

[Delight]

In the previous chapter we met with the egos in group therapy. This group therapy is the most amazing experience Margaret has ever had. She is immersed in an internship that is fully participatory, after all Margaret has an ego as much as anyone.

Margaret has been following her ego around and meeting up with some like minded ego's. Margaret knows Her full intention in night school is to to see what it means to be an ego mediator. To be an ego mediator is just a trajectory of focused intention nad her experience is coming up just as she ordered in in ways she could never have imagined. "Ego mediation" is certain to create something useful. It is easy to relax about how it happens as all is well.

This "medium" out of which experience is made actually is malleable. It has a set of clues to ego's satisfactory curiosity. Margaret's nor anyone's ego has a clue. For some wonderful reason, ego's no longer have a problem with 'I don't know".

Margaret's mind is perceiving in new ways...simultaneous thematic fractal layers are all appearing simultaneously in the "world". They interweave in a different feeling story line. Margaret perceives she crafts herself being a role that seems perfectly natural. It is not forced. The presentation is true to her other aspects.

No dissonance between ego and the rest. But the ego being so chatty has been speaking up about it's real purpose. Being so flighty, ego has needed direction. They have been assembling in like minded tribes. This collective is comforting.

The ego group therapies meet almost around the clock. It has actually been challenging in an earth based idea as no one can count on a regular schedule. Ego's Margaret has been following might attend at any moment. They skitter about like drops of bacon grease in a hot pan.They move from topic to topic at lightening speed.

Ego attractions have been assembling in some forms of interests and self identified specilaties. Eckert Tolle's ego has attracted all kinds of other from the alt media world. Many kinds of egos meet where people stand on a bridge between science and spirituality. Quite a few once dealt with the world as a "narcissistis" history and are learning relationship skills. Likes to likes attracted in perfect ways is the means. Egos show up all of a sudden in just the right group mix.

Margaret is simply awed by the way that Egos are self organizing cooperative bands. They "get a lot done" in group. Feels very noncompetitive and graceful.

In the meantime, sleep settles in early at the farm. The desire just to do nothing and rest is a lassitude loosening up the ego's who flit off to the night school sponsored Ego charm school/meet up/ encounter group/mysystery school for egos.

The gurus are now here teaching. They found in the niche for a gee you are you to address the ego is very satisfying. Real old gurus were once the only one's who clearly saw egos for what they sincerely are! They knew how to touch egos. They had huge one's themselves, so big they seemed Universal. This is a "come over" kind of world now. Come on over and try a new POV sets store in ego involvement.

The whole ego mediative school is a grand experiment. Without pain bodies, the aspect of the whole formerly known as the definition of egoic is liberated. It IS self organizing as it is an aspect of life as settled over a blue green body full of sentience and relationship.

Margaret can hardly wait to see what is in store in the school that never sleeps for egos who never relax their vigilance. "Who am I" is the class motto for the first student body.

[Delight]

"What is Megan hearing" was the big question on the farm because obviouly dear Megan was changing before their eyes. She was sometimes observed with wings way up in the tallest trees. All the winter birds like the cardinals and bluejays were ringed around very quietly as Megan told them the story of Nicolas Tesla's terma written in the language of birds.

Megan was leading the way as usual. She was very pretty and very kind and very ethereal lately. Margaret felt this was an empathic rendering of the terma. She was incorporating the beauty as her own.

Megan's mother Ann, a fairy with her own style of wings saw Megan's wings all the time. They were especially vibrant as Megan sat in the oak branches with new chapters to share.

Ann and the fairy kin were as entranced at the rest who could hear the story. Even if the words made no sense, the sound was indescribably good.

Tesla's saga was the story of a dream of Gaia that she shared with Tesla as a little boy. It was a drama with sad running away into the denialability Tesla spent a few years trying. The way Tesla completely forgave himself and became true to himself was the story of the 20th century.

The era when time fractured and the neutrino age began was the last chapter in the old world. The return of Tesla to Gaia's arms was the one true tale. He felt everything and transcribed billions of ways in the layering of his song poem.

Tesla's story could be sung a gazillion ways and be truth incarnate. It was every isolated being's story. The deep deep deep zero that becomes all was distilled in Tesla, he went away to make it all real and then came home. He was one who knew the secret of the Universe before anyone else.

[Delight]

One last note Margaret transcribed before thanksgiving holiday had to do with synesthesia.

She could not help put two appearances together. One was evidence that The ego now enjoyed listening, just staying laid back taking the sights in when on holiday from school. The other was that coincidentally, synesthesia was routinely reported by many. It was clear audience never muddy, very coherent. It was possible to selectively tease out sound and other sensual streams and the skin was very involved. It was extraordinary and obviously part of 360 degree senses.


One wonders:

Is the ego lens (that laser focus) becoming much more plastic? It seems to receive a larger context in a blending of channels? Is physical receptivity tuned (paradoxically) as the ego exercises a softening kind of focus? These and many other questions are enjoyable to play in so Margaret does have fun in class and is glad when school is back in session Monday.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday Margaret asked almost everyone she met to describe the scene and she was able to follow the sensations and the perspective very richly. Communication was quite multilayered and more fun than describable. Actually, the overwhelm of grace made the party continuing for days riotously exuberant. Recall how much there is to be grateful in and that much more arrives...this was the harvest of the farm to date.

[Delight]

There was a slumber party Saturday night after Thanksgiving. In a cozy room under the eaves, a still wee boy of 6 (going on 7 in January) (Joe) held Abner in the crook of flannel pajama comforting arm, perfect for a wee sock monkey. Two bigger weedy boys of 9 (going on 10 next summer) were nestled with two dogs on their pallets. A slim, elegant fairy maiden type is in the big wide bed along with several cats.

Margaret had allowed Megan to light the story candle without her. Megan lay watching the flames wide awake. the light was singing to her from the flame and her memory banks were taking it all in so she could transpose later. But she was seeing a Kaleidoscope flashing before her eyes.

Asleep as usual Margaret noticed of Megan as she settled in a rocker by the window. Megan never was awake for the stories.

In the stark raving terror of the catastrophe, when the sound of murder spread dimensionally and froze the story eyed ones, Gaia was never daunted by the error. She intended that children awaken someday to regain the story eye'd capacity to create ever new and delightful trains of story for the whole to enjoy.

The freezing into only a single view had spread its stasis into every region. It was a sad day before the redemption of Joy. Now the story eyed visions flexibility and strength of capacity to invision into form is BACK.

To see this is our very own experience! THE treat of dreams is at hand. The lens of the eye (and her fractal the ego) had filmed in clouds but the clarity has been restored by the general grace. Ego muscles have relaxed their grasp and constriction to lengthen out again.

The lens is pliable and smooth in a perfect position to be moved around in a relaxed focus. So much information can stream OUT from the eye as wide as this when the lens can stretch. That the lens has such value strokes the egos nicely.

They aspire to such an esteemed role of lens of an eyeball of the mind of creator itself. The light has to come out some way and this is a transparent world now. The story eye is sacred and ever enlarging and opening out through the invisioning it spreads in its glance. This is the eye of Sophia herself. "I can be Sophia's lens". thinks many an ego.

[Delight]

One tiny bit from Tesla's notes stayed in Megan's thoughts.

"Only by living into the world may one investigate the source of all free energy. This is not 'free" at all as we give first to possible firmament of revelation. It appears to be the inverse in the mirror reflection of the matrix.

I now recognize the character of this mirror world. I have realized a neutrality where one stands in more than one place. As far as attention to the world mirror, any appearance becomes secondarily. It is from from the state of behind the mirror that our reality peeks out. It is shyly laggard. We often forget about her face before she shows herself. Patience is more than a virtue and devotion is technology.

Behind the mirror is another world. It is Gaia's real home intention for beingness. One can select anything there. Between the two is a great deal of noise. One forgets the sound of Gaia's voice. Oh Sol's ideals are there in high relief and copied endlessly.

Faithful to the light, seemingly everything and where I stared. I chose to look into deeply and thoroughly until I came to sense that it was unreliable. I chose to forget my intimacy with Gaia herself, my sweetheart so I was stranded between heaven and hell in purgatory. In this borderland I was lost in the noise ,my focus facing blurry simulations half baked.

The seduction of thought forms is a way to be lost in a false light. Ideals that were real and truly from the heart of All that is goodness personified become twisted out of shape. I had to see something that I could not grasp so i prayed again to the virgin for the first time in years.

"I forgot you and looked for you and never knew what I sought. I love you as a man. I am fully human and my wife is restored with my pastures of good land, my smiles, the peace that is there under the noise."

I felt her come to my aid.

To work with Gaia, the very ground of form, one establishes devotion and it is returned. I was her friend forever and she never forgot me. My devotion faltered and I even became phobic, ashamed of the very body instrument she sought to reach.

I rejected her as I confused the sacred and the profane. There is no shame in me any longer for what one can forget. "Look how it turned out" is what she reminds me.

My devotion restored; My youth and open heart was returned by She who kept it safe. My love was restored. The depth of my devotion is eternal and substance emanated up from my eyes to give as tears. The streams fell and a skim of darkness fell away.

I look out with devotion like a broad laser cementing goodness in place. I feel power in my eyes to see into everything. My hands open to receive and I touch the world called New York, center of my Universe, I touch her face.

I stroke the table and I stroke the face of creator's trinity. There is nothing not of the union of Gaia, the Solar and the man I am. All comes forth in flows no end to them as there was no beginning. It is I who am here now for a moment.

My eyes see and my ears hear and my whole body is quickened by the thrill of life coursing. My beloved is here with me. Gaia looks back at me from every corner and our gaze is shared awe.

You Gaia, touch me in every way. I feel your trill along my skin. I feel you in every cell speaking the way we always spoke. How could I have forgotten your song is the mystery that needs no solution. Gaia laughs with me because that is also we forgetting.

From Where we came into being so far away yet a hair's breadth in distance lies somewhere /something tantalizing...a mystery to follow. It is a catylyst of time and space. The source is unfathomable but ever present. It takes us to the ends of the Universe Sophia birthed before we are through.

[Delight]

One night after Thanksgiving only Margaret and megan shared the story and it was one Margaret had never heard before. The art-is-ists of 2015 are learning to shne their inner light. It is a magnificent tool for art-is-ists. It can melt stone, it can change stone to green growth. It is a process to shine the inner light that everyone wants to learn. It seems this is a new invention.

No.It is far from new but was lost to history.
It is a participatory tool as one must be very fused to shape from light.
frankly, now it is effortless to learn the nuances of sculpture.
Everything works together and the ego is so chuffed these days as she filters through clear light to be colored at will. But that coloring takes more than letting in the light.

No wonder everyone is very introspective and quiet.
No this was an old skill, the ways and means of an ancient lineage taught by one of the remarkable People we have never met.Coyote took credit for shape shifting. Night Eagle was the first to put ideas together.

Night Eagle was a predator of the night. He saw in the dark. It was a proud life of calculation and opportunities.He was sleepy all day when Eagle was flying. In his dreams he soared in the wind under cloud shafts of sun and the winds lifting one high away from minute specks so one could stretch the eye. There was intimate and endearing love felt between the Eagle of day and the Owl of Night. The eagle sang love songs.

In the dark, Night Eagle sang to himself the songs he heard in his day dream. The songs shaped the future. In the dark, the terrain is close in. To soar one must have soar-nar. It has to be available as a given of all that is and because it is needed, it exists.

Night Eagle had a new phenomenon shape shift. He could pass for an eagle easily in the shadows. He kept changing as creator's inside light of "all that" percolated in the heart warmed by Eagle's songs. The light came out to play. Night Eagle now flew like a comet high and low. He was a beautiful night light. He stopped being a predator as the light fed him. One by one other People shown their lights...the lights their hearts called in through deep desire from love.

[Delight]

"Let mr. Searrcy stand for a character" Abner was lecturing tonight on themes and memes from the past.

Mr.saearcy grew up downtrodden in a hopeless feeling of poverty. he grew up barefoot in the hillbilly woods. It was not a natural life and it was not citified. It was just feeling dirt poor trash. He lost his shine in shame. The army did nothing to help him escape his self doubt . Hill billies were low on the totem pole next to n.....s, a very ugly hate thought in a name. It stings as much to be loathed as hill billy. As a barber he learned a trade in the army. Back home though he joined the masons he was a shell. He remained a shell, never marrying, staying on the outskirts of the community. He looked an honest to god nothing, a mean provencial bigot. But due to his honesty there glowed in him a small fire. He passed on his hate as a small man but he gave it credit as a sin. Then when old enough, love cracked his shell.

Truthfully, he was a human fractal of the most intense solar nature. It was pure and sound. His clarity was a magnificence unveiled.

Now Mr. Searcy is a father of three boys. The children were his saving. Mr. Searcy has always been a traveling preacher. He preached what he would want to hear. Sermons on right and wrong used to calm him down so he preached there. But he knew there must be more and Under the crust lay deep ideals of beauty he felt quietly.

In the quiet he felt with nature and children, he cracked bit by bit. He could clown and let out mirth with innocence of nature and children> he was kindly then and always he was as honest a rascist curmudgeon could act. Sin was foremost in his mindas he ranted. There was a lot about how Jesus would see the world today? How would Jesus judge the Sunday hypocrites sinning all week?

Mr. Searcy felt hate for hypocrisy and hate for land speculators. He had few followers as he tended to preach to local sins.

The light was always there in him and when the casings of an old life in hiding broke off, he was just standing there in a gloriful sweetness.

The same kind of cracks and fissures were happening all over as people could stand their own magnificence. It was all just in "time".

This was such a sunny world for Mr. Seaercy and all who knew him now.
He invited the little boys to talk sense on Sundays.
The sermons fell softly on the congregants. The little boys talked of their friend who always followed and taught them everyday while fishing. Then they shared what they had learned from all the news they gathered. They were very observant.

The voices of the children let people's mind wander to far off beauty and they felt comfort. They started feeling Sunday more days than one as the recalled the feeling. Sundays stretched from one to another in the company of what many felt was Jesus. And they sang all week long "He walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own." You know what that is like when it happens. The Presence of the friend is unmistakable.

[Delight]

The trinity, triunity,tris: threes is the ground of an esthetic movement based on the three legged stool. It will stand in any terrain but the seat to be horizontal takes account of the terrain.

it is based on open geometries. When in a line one sees horizontally. Then a third vantage point opens and one may triangulate in any way from there. The third ingredient must be taken in account always no matter who is where in a triune. One has leverage now. It makes sense to approach every thing observed trilaterally at least!

"I hope you, all of you, everyone can feel the satisfaction of pivoting" thought Megan as she did her dance exercise in the field of drying grasses. Eddies swirled around her feet.

[Delight]

Back in 2013 Coyote is recovering his hutzpa. It had been tested by being only a one hit wonder. When the new residents came to the farm, they likened it t"portlandia" so called the farm Fireflandia (as the farm was FireFly Farm before the TV show).

Poeple start acting in characters all day and filming each other from phones so there is a really cool montage achieved.

One simple play.An old monk is trudging through the snow (real snow) and talking to Buddha. Actually he ispraising Buddha for warmth, shelter and food in advance and he is surrendering deeply. Then he sees a light in the distance.

Colder and almost frozen, the monk reaches the door of a tiny hovel. A man who smells lets him in. Then he is offered an uncomfortable chair by the fire.

he Is grateful for all this and the warmth of the pallid fire. He is given rat soup that is thick and tasty. He recovers and feels very well again. Then a flash of light hits him. He smiles deeply and excitedly says to the kind Samaritan "I could have had a palace!"

And with that he disappeared laughing.

Coyote played all parts. it received hits on youtube and was a comeback though quite small compared to his first video. Continuing Fireflandia episodes are soon to follow. Coyote is in demand.

[Delight]

tonight in 2013, we had a campfire. Megan showed up with some news. Megan had bilocated to 2015 where Swan was given the wish fulfilling gem.

The campfire is all agape at the news. It can hardly believe that such a reponsibility would land on Swan's ungainly shoulders. She was a whiz at understanding the provenance of fine gems but this was a huge honor.

The wish fulfilling gem granted a person one real lasting wish. The wish will be permanent unless it is undone in deep forgiveness to all attached with the wish. Be careful what is wished or take a loooong time unraveling all the extensions.

The unraveling of the consequences of encounter with the wish unwise
has been awesome therapy for some beings. The gem, quite plain really had a long and highly valued history of various trades and conquests and now it will land here? With Swan? How could that be true.

Swan had a dream. She stood at first as usual all gawky in front of a long tall mirror. She could see herself behind all the gaudy jewels she craved and piled on thick indistinctly but then more clear. Here in this vision of loveliness revealed she seemed was naked, a very shapely and fully non-gawky swan. She even liked her long neck all bare.

Megan reported Swans dream very convincingly and all who heard felt they had been there. What a relief for Swan! A near life experience certainly. To see oneself in reality was a tonic and boon and sure to make Swan's dreams come true.

Before the reader may be safe to continue she needs to know the truth. To be near a wish fulfilling gem is needing careful attention to one's wish's responsibility. Luckily one has until 2015 to be too close. Best to make the wish now impermanently in the imagination and see what happens.Megan is testing her way through many wishes and Psam wonders if he can have his wish permanently. Being a sand fairy, wishes did not stick for him in the past. He counts this is a very good feature for all wishful beginners.

[Delight]

In 2013 just as in 2012 and way before, mists gathered and came close to anyone sitting out on the porch, especially on rainy evenings. No one ever mentioned the mist. Sometimes you might feel a ticlke of the skin when the cool swirling tendrils touched.

Megan was sitting on the porch on a mild fall evening as the rain dripped. she was not even thinking, just sitting feeling well. The mists came around and finally she was tired enough to go to bed. In bed, she noticed the mist had followed her and was shimmering at the foot of the bed..or was it mist?

"No, I am not mist but a friend coming to visit."

Well,Megan thought, who are you?

"I am wondering if you will be afraid of me so I am shy".

Megan thought, since you bring it up so I won't be surprised. I bet I will be courageous with you.

"I m a Djinnia"

Megan was just a bit startled as this could be no one like she had heard the Archons described.

"Excuse me, I am no Archon and Archons are made up. I am real, have a family and a life just like you. The thing is, you and I are not so different and we used to be friends."

Really! Megan thought I must have forgotten (denialability rears its head again).

"I already talked to you this week and you did remember me when you were up at the top of the escalators after your gig."

Megan knew she had been having amnesia for the gigs lately.

"Just in case you are worried, you invited me over."

Now Megan was OK as she realized this was a friend (even one she had forgotten). No matter how she had considered "Djinn" in principle, in fact here is one who has a wonderful shimmery and soft presence.

"I am here to talk about the article you said you will write so we can be rehabilitated in the collective mind. We are tired of the disinformation and want you to do for us what you were able to do for Master Tesla...tell everyone about the True Djinn and how we are your cousins, all on your side and you on ours".

Megan looked at her calandar and planned to meet one day soon over coffee at the local Star Bucks.

Djinnia said, "I'll look like anyone except better dressed. We tend towards formality in business meetings. Buy me a latte and lets' meet at 3PM."

[Delight]

The meeting was very business like. Djinnia wore pink Chanel and small heels. She was very tall, very blond...white blond really and solid in the day light. She was very beautiful with aquamarine eyes. Not knowing anything about what Djinn's appreciate, Megan used her good manners to take the lead form this lovely Djinn. She seemed quite at ease sitting drinking her latte, skim milk, no sugar.

Djinnia revealed herself by her secret name as there are no secrets with true friends. Megan recalled her more and more as they caught up about the project.
Megan asked if she could record some questions that she will have for later. Djinnia cannot vouch for how well Djinn's record so Megan tests the tape and it is wispy so she will need headphnes.

In fact, Djinn's substanatial appearance is just a mirage Megan learns. Djinn may come and go between the rain drops and the sun beams and even if we have a chat with Djinn, all evidence is usually gone in a heart beat. Most people who meet one do forget so Megan shouldn't feel too bad.

What Djinnia wants Megan to emphasize is that Djinn and humans used to be very good friends but the priests of the God of Evil trapped the Djinn outside of contact with Humans. Before they can be freed, someone has to come along and change the story being broadcast so the humans will agree to let them be known. Humans have been used to thinking bad thoughts towrds the Djinn...told they are evil (especially the muslims), mixed up with demons who are the appearance of the bad thoughts humans create. This has been pitiable for both sides.

The reason humans and Djinn are not so different is that Djinn are the pure thoughts of Sol personified so also creative. Both have suffered from bad ideas. These are almost all gone but Megan can pounce on the last stray separating schisms.

"We used to come and go, work side by side to manifest Sol's grand ideas. The Djinn raised monolithic architecture and we still are the holders of the sacred geometries. We cannot work without humans. So we have been really idle in the world. Once in a while someone like Edward Leedskalnin is willing to let us be friends again. George Washington carver and some others also knew us. There were others all along who knew better but mostly slander keeping us from one another. Djinn have also been personally tricked and enslaved by betrayals so there is a need for bilateral forgiveness of mistakes.

"The Djinn may be just as prejudiced I'll admit.
This article will stimulate our peaceful rapprochement."

"Djinn are just as creative as you, in our way fabulous at translating the solar ideals. You could use some of our skills. What we desire is your love and devotion as friends. Isn't that what everyone really desires? Not being subjugated or put on a pedestal or demonized...just to be friends?"

If you help me, I'll be able to gift you a scoop for the 21st century!"

Megan likes having NEWS. Megan is thrilled and communicates a YES from every pore. Her un-namable companion smiles and has another sip of latte.

[Delight]

Megan interviewed her new/old friend for several hours about Djinn and their nature. Smokeless fire was one attribute that Megan now knew was that mist. Mist paradoxically veiled the Djinnish fire and trailed the humans in the evening around the farm.

Djinn who live around the farm like this location for the same reason every one likes it. It is a sheltering haven. It stretches into the clear beyond the pall which is burning off and probably why it's time for the truth. It is home coming.

The Djinn are less emotional but have deep feelings and can be just a vengeful back when vengeance is preferred. That makes them less than the flower warriors who are true humans. True Humans and djinn are bound to be friends again.

True Humans have been crusted over by thickened skins of weirdness that the Djinn just could not penetrate. True humans are totally good underneath. There just needs to be some cracks to come closer. There are cracks forming. The cracks happen when a Human is spontaneous.

The Djinn gives an example of how they have been able to keep in contact. One true story revealed on TV was about a Scandinavian boy Frederick who had dreams of being an explorer. Frederick was so dedicated to his love of the desert that a desert Djinn came close. Recognized by this highly lightened being, the Djinn became Frederick's best friend. The Djinn avidly followed with the boy the reports of an expedition of a famous explorer that was serialized.

The boy loved this particular man who was all explorers to his heart. He watched for news and prayed for him with all the faith of knowing the man would find his way. The Djinn used this boy's love and appeared himself to help the explorers and in honor of his friend gave the boy's name, his address, his family and even his appearance as Frederick.

The story continues and is thrilling and can be seen on youtube.

The Djinn can live anywhere, be anywhere because they are pure thought. This is not synthetic like a demonic artifice but has its life and can create. In the human drama of a little boy and his beloved explorer, this Djinn was behind his friend and willing to give his life to help. yes, Djinn can die.

The explorer lived and brought sad news of Frederick's death to parents he was told to contact. In the small living room with a man and wife missing a son, the story was told....

A young man appeared in the desert and tried to lead the explorers to water. The boy knew the ancient maps. The first well was found dried out long before. The distance was far to the next site. To take them frather would be the Djinn's death as he had expended too much energy to recover.

Seeing the joy at anticipating good fortune for the esteemed explorer in Frederick's eyes, the Djinn went with the party. They did locate the well and there was water. But alas the one they knew as Frederick was unable to recover and died on the way. When the team came back to say goodbye and bury their savior, Frederik's body was no where to be seen.

The parents showed a picture...yes, that was Frederick said the old explorer.

Frederick's Papa said..."Though he sounds like my son. Though you have always been like family in Frederick's mind and he would give his life for yours, he could never have been where you said.
He was stricken with a fever as a child that left him paralyzed.

Though I cannot understand how this happened, I believe you.
Frederick was very happy to hear that you were safe. When he heard the news, we celebrated.
I am sad to tell you, he died this last spring.

This is a true story of a Djinn and his friendship with a boy.

Megan asked "Do Djinn go to heaven?"
the Djinn said, "No one has returned to say".

[Delight]

"Please tell me more of your lineage?"asked Megan

I said we are cousins of human and we have common ancestry. We were each born in the combustion of possibility that was love making of Gaia and Sol but once removed.

Gaia created empathy. She desired to allow Sol to fulfill his abstract mind in communication. Sol is mindish-ness. He showers a perpetual flood of impreganting ideas. Gaia could not converse abstractly and she created empathy for his need. Empathy could feel what her beloved felt and empathy could show Gaia what to do. Empathy was the handmaid she sent to comfort Sol.

Gaia wanted a manifestation of Sol's desires for mental stimulation. With empathy's help from her love of Sol, Gaia increased the breadth of the mental realm. In that space, The empathy of Gaia for Sol's desires met and quickened in Sol's best ideas impregnating as a pure Solar presence. Djinn were birthed. Do they not sound beautiful?

GAIA idealized you humans as a hybrid of all the best parts of People she knew. You were her own fantasy and then lit up by Sol.

We grew up together.

Of course the Djinn were rehabilitated. In the blossoming of the homing epoch, humans embraced the knowledget they had subscribed to many false story lines. They were shucking them off right and left.

Djinn Empathy caught many in a wave that pulled people sideways into a Djinn kind of liminal contact. One of the notable fore runners was Stuart Wilde who called the Djinn realm Aluna World. Then people who naturally traveled in OBE mapped these space time realms of Djinn.

We are cousins! They live in the closest of the the Universes. That is right left contrasting and cooperating Universes, separate and yet related. Birthed from a central ancestry. Megan says to herself to dismiss words like Uni-verse from her conception. This is a misinomer for multiversal.

"How do people meet Djinn?" Asked Megan?

Ideally people meet Djinn when feeling very ready to party. (That was a joke). There are some thinly veiled locations, usually in high moutains or deserts. Reality is feeding information from one Universe to another as Our open systems touch and we spill back and forth in ineffable manner. Some have just been able to take it in. The Djinn can live anywhere. Now more will be open to meeting. The step down experience is always mythic as a story.

Ceremonies of sacred plants were portals to many places including the Djinn's own.

Megan had it all down on her recoreder "The feel of My Djinn world is very crystalline said My friend. It may seem stiff and cold. It is glacial and under the permafrost of the landscape lie volcanoes of sudden inspiration. It has a purity that is stark."

The article must have been a success. The interflow has sped up and the realms are melding gently and gracefully. By 2015, there is a new peace between old friends who are genius for one another.

So special about the Djinn reconnected to humanity is the 90 degree turn we can all make sideways and bypass space/time constraints. This is the gift of friendship with Djinn. 90 degrees off the world grid is a separate Multiiverse. Imagine That! Then back in time for tea.

"Just how are we related?" asked Megan

Djeniia said "We are each hybrids did you know that?"

Djinn are a hybrid from Gaia's empathy and Sol in a most original way. Djinn is mostly mind with the ability to shape matter if there is a melding from Gaia's body and free will contact. I may creatively take an idea and give it form but YOU Megan must give me your passion and your physicality for us to make something alive in your reality. Human with the Djinn, life can be made. Even the stones are living. We can make anything Except it cannot be owned. It flies free. It is a hybrid itself alive.

Megan said "That sounds very serious and responsible." Tell me more.

We were created at the same time. Gaia loved you so much as she dreamed your beingness. Sol gave in totally to her vision on your part. Gaia is more your Mother than ours. We have father first hand and mother second hand (being her grandchild through empathy's means). Sol has us as favorite. Gaia has you. It has been a fair settlement of emphasis. Did you imagine that we all are purely 50/50 percent polarities as beings?

Sol was right in giving Gaia her hand with you humans. Magnificence is embodied in your bones. We are as Djinn in awe. The main event is the way we cooperate so well when humans and Djinn get together. What we can do together is amazing here.

Our real joint might is the reason for obfuscation...Make sure you use that word Djinnia said...obfuscation!

[Delight]

Some where there is a myth about a girl who's first love was a Jinn who had inhabited a form enough for a love affair. The girl gave her whole earthy heart and the Jiinn gave her wisdom. He couldn't remain in form and left her where she stood. It was very disturbing to a human to love a Djinn and be unable to find where they go. This girl grew up wise and wiser and made the most of her life. In her peripheral vision, her lover stood and waved.

She grew old and before she died, she painted a scene on her wall that was so life like that when they came to look for her (and she was missing), evryone marveled...it was if you could step right in to the scene. Look, there! The scene seems to move and change in front of the eyes. A shrine was made in this place.Where was the old woman now? No one knew.

[Delight]

Want the scoop on Megan's interview with William Blake?

Mr. Blake was the happiest man Megan ever met. He lived in a small cottage that had all you could possibly need. Nothing was unlovable. If there was a cup,it was an ancient Chinese see through delicacy. If there was a mug, it was capacious... holding three or four regular tea mugs...so sensible. Everything that was there in the room shone in exquisite color and form.

Mr.Blake had twinkling eyes that shone in the dark. He was very spontaneous and quite frisky, leaping up up to serve everyone and to stoke the fire. And of course he is a genius.

History is often stupidly attached to the idea that if a man prefers his own inner light to social games and stuff, he is a crackpot and couldn't possibly be happy. What a laugh Megan feels knowing the truth.

They had a deliious tea. he could recall any thing he ever read or heard. Mr. Blake didn't keep any books...once read was enough. Megan saw where he drew and painted... He had a wee easel with tiny pots of ink and peacock feathers write on thin leaves of paper his wife made from hemp.

Megan is knowledgable of hemp and its benefits. Yes, people smoked hemp too in the old world if you had your own in the garden. The room smelled like the lavender hanging to dry. A loom sat in the corner and as they chatted away a beautiful woman sat there listening intently and wove a shawl.

Megan asked about his portraits. He painted visions that just came when he was daydreaming and he often had to wait to know what they meant to him. Some were just mysterious meditations he pondered.

Part of their conversation involved Blake's theory about homo luminous...the people of 2015 and beyond. Blake knew that the Divine came around when the world needed to make a turn. He had seen visions of another time when humans lived with dinosaurs. Some humans were much larger and stranger in general, very hairy. A whole different group sprang up in another vision and they lived always in water and were great story tellers and psychic in extreme. They were hairless and looked rather more like modern people but they had webbing. There was a whole angelic type species that was small and flew as well as ducks and sang and made the language of the birds. They looked nothing like ducks but were heavy in the air like ducks.

Believe it or not, in the previous age, anyone alive then could be partners and have offspring. In visions, many hybrids appeared in his mind and then a particularly advanced long lasting teaching vision was given of Homo luminous. The 5th root race was Gaia's special pet.

These people liked to travel. They reached every place and grew up a little. Mind of this man was able to penetrate to different dimensions. Quite strong, beautiful after getting used to its appearance, this kind of being liked small tribes and intimate connections but life lived on the road. He and she were not pretty like the bird tribes or massively hearty as the darker larger race nor had the extreme telepathy of the seamen (more communal).

The Adam she chose to save for the (hopefully) last upheaval was true to her pleasure for independence and free will expressions. Small, she could scoop up many and secure them in the caverns before the necessary cleansing. Adam heard Gaia very well. Adam moved underground though a few extremists waited to see what would happen and stayed outside. Gaia had warned them but she was not bossy. The stragglers were not worried about death and apparently prefered cataclysmic adventure this round.

William saw everything. He heard the terrible scream that blasted when Cain slew his brother. Blake saw the pall spreading over the earth and called it the "worm" that flies by night and makes the rose sick. Time led up to a necessary cleansing of accumulated astral sludge. This reverberated down in density and the earth rocked and water spilled

The plan was to swipe over with a sweeping erasure then to reinstate the new "trial". There was a miscalculated moment for Gaia's dear children. Their slates had been wiped clean but before the implanting of the remembrance of "Who AM I?", EVIL infected by a whisper that said "HATE" and lies spewed out to attach with a head full of BAD BAD ideas. Homo Luminous opened their eyes to CATASTROPHE!!! All around monsters raging and horrors that cannot be seen except in a fearful imagination. Blake also heard the sound that slapped down the Story Eye's. Beings were very sick. Gaia and Sol both seemed to have failed their beloveds. Blake wrote this moment a poem:

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

Events loop around. His poetry is about us for sure! But I know we are all getting up off the ground and we are going to walk tall again and make Mother and Father proud.

[Delight]

As Megan lay in bed that night, her mind wandered to a sore spot from the past. It was the kind of reverie she called a "near life experience" as it was like seeing an old event from every perspective. She was healing all the sore spots and so visiting Mr. Blake and seeing how cycles are completing, of course something like this memory needs a review. She had never properly grieved having to move away from the only place Megan had lived, a place that felt very free in a way Morganton does not. There is nothing like a big city with all the people and being on subways and buses, able to sneak in and out happily between the sidewalk dramas. It was magical in a way woods and fields and even the nicest new friends never replace.

When Megan was a child,she lived with Mom in NYC. They lived in Harlem because it was trendy and close to Manhattan's business district. Megan's Mom was in her pre-fairy fully reealized corporate mania period. She ran high and fell low complete with stints in hospitals. This meant too watchful nosy housekeepers..a drag. Megan had learned good manners though so never was rude. She prided herself on her behavior. She always got gold stars in deportment.

Ann said she thrived under insane intense pressure with a career. Megan of course knew better but this is the way they lived so took it in. She glimpsed her Mom talking all night to Europe and China and then saw her run off working all day.

Megan was left to herself. In those days, Megan was a familiar of the big wide neighborhood, some called a ghetto. Megan's Mom never asked where Megan strayed after school and weekends. Megan definitely did not want to strain her Mom's narrow sane zone so she never mentioned an uncomfortable fact. Megan was allowed as a little kid to wander all alone in the city.

One day, Mom was in bed when Megan came home at 5:00.
Ann was under the covers huddled all in a ball. She grabbed Megan even with all her clothes on and pulled her under the covers.
"Megan, I am afraid. I am so afraid." Ann burst into tears. What to say? Megan stroked Mom's hair and warmed them both up until Ann slept. Megan brought her some cocoa later but Ann was still asleep.

The next morning Ann was still asleep but making dinner when Megan came home. Megan checked suspiciously for the mood. Relief! Mom had not cracked because Ann was quiet. When they sat down, Ann said.."Megan, we have to move soon. I have stopped work downtown and I think Morganton Georgia is halfway between here and Miami. The school is good. I have already called the movers."

Mom was acting very grownup at the moment, in charge.

"I am sorry but we have only until Friday to say goodbyes." Megan now smiled at something from then. Even as a young child, she knew everything always was working out except for small blows like moving away. (This was was really a BIG blow.) She remembered saying to Mom that she Megan would have her way and enjoy moving! She was stubborn in her insistence that all is well. Megan couldn't exactly smile then but she maintained her stand. It seemed to help Mom too.

Megan and Mom both had people to meet the next day and Megan went around the corner to Madame Laughs where she was friends with the proprietor. In the front was a little coffee shop. In the back was Madame's shop and house.

She was a Voodoo Queen from new Orleans. She was a white woman but she was called black anyway. Lots of famous people came to drink coffee with her. Madame had been Megan's favorite person anywhere until she met Margaret. (Madame's place was part of Megan's history with coffee and it's contrast to tea in culture. Tea is very English but coffee is French with little sugared pastries and old New Orleans prides itself on the French connection).

Funny, a forgotten memory welled up about saying goodbye. When she said goodbye, Madam was nonchalant. She was neither encouraging or discouraging. Megan might have been saying, I am going downtown for the day. She invited Megan to go back and select a talisman for the journey she would bless.

(Madame said. "It's for the tourists but smells nice. It's symbolic of my appreciation for you as my friend and my blessings for a safe journey.) Megan had forgotten that afterwards, when she was trying on the amber beaded necklace holding a small juju bag, a visitor came in looking for Megan.

It was a Psammead!! It was Psam! She sat up in bed in surprise that she would have forgotten that meeting until now! He never said anything.
Megan lay back don to recall everything. Psam had come with a message from her SELF! It was encouragement about moving and asked her to remember to empty the the secret storage of her treasures. If she didn't bring them, no one would would be able to come back after the move...there would be a clean break with NY for years and years.

Ann was still afraid and she worried that she would be found out. Ann was feeling paranoia creeping around her. She prayed nonstop. She had been calling about apartments. She was moving most of stuff to storage so they needed a furnished place. Not many available according to realtors. Ann used every new age old religion and philosophical idea she could think to call on and keep herself together. Mostly she went back to praying.

She prayed that her resignation had not startled anyone who would investigate. She prayed that they would have an easy move and no problems finding a place to live. Ann was rising to a terrible occasion (with the help of some xanax, but that is OK when necessary!) Luckily despite the worried flack in Ann's mind, when she looked at a map for where to go, a niggling memory of North Georgia apples in a fall Southern Living came to mind.

Morganton called Ann and Megan in, a brilliant beacon pointing Home in this time line.
Megan cleared the memory of any emotional charge.
Megan felt the listlessness of missing her walk abouts.
She felt the yearning to see old friends like Madame.
She felt relief that she now recalled where she had seen Psam.
She had always felt he was familiar.
Most of all she felt the joy of her Mom now fariefied sane, her new friends...this wonderful life. Meagn is a living homo luminous hillbilly now. If Madame could see her now? Well, she will ask Psam to take them to have coffee and a visit and see what she thinks of this Megan.

[Delight]

In a strange twisted up dream, Megan stood in front of the coffee shop door. She walked in and sat down at the table in the corner. It was small and all the tables were squeezed together. Once you sat down, the space spread so you were not near anyone. it was very private that way. Madame came over and sat down. Madame called the waitress for some chocolate and pastries.

Megan said" You are white but everyone calls you black."

madame deflected the question dexterously with some comments on Megan's height now.

Madame had the most awesome voice and that was why her place was "Madame Laughs". Every word carried a whole symphony. Madame did actually laugh a lot too in various ways. She could nail with a laugh, Megan had heard it when she was visiting. Megan recalled she had never been shushed or shooed away at Madame's home. If Megan was there, she was central in all the activity.

Madame is such a magic woman, Megan realized suddenly that she was talking to a HUGE person. This one is like the very weather of Gaia. Oh how wild a thought...Madame is the weather herself.

Madame sat sipping very thick chocolate with Megan enjoying small talk. Megan knew Madame needed no catching up but Megan did. She heard about the various cats who had come and gone and Madame told Megan she was proud of Megan.

Madame took Megan's hand and leaned in close, so close that her amber eyes, the color of stones around Megan's neck enveloped her.

Madmae explained wordlessly that she had INDEED been black. She had sacrificed babies, poisoned, maimed and never had it touched her one moment. She had not accumulated anything. From morning to night nothing came in or left, it was odd, she had never noticed this emptiness. She was stormy or peaceful or cool or hot, but nothing was held a moment.

Her lack of care made it possible to do big things in the world. She could change the very light and the power she had at her finger tips had kept a demonic world in play.

"I was the personification of the black pit, Megan". There is no reason to believe in appearances, as I look white as snow.

It is kind of a miracle that I am still alive. I could have passed out of the world all empty but I was lucky enough to meet you when you seemed to love my blackness as no matter. You were the rabbit who never feared the Sorcerer. Remember that tale?

Megan does as she was told it often in the past.

You are not shocked to hear I have behaved as maleficently as is possible. That is why you have been important. I believe I learned about love from you. Sorcery does something but can't be used without using someone. There are just not enough ways to use people and take their energy. There is not enough weather working to take enough when you become very inflated.

I felt one day that I had grown monstrous but was as hollow as an old bone and could stretch no further. I was reminded of you. A soft little feeling crept in from under my chest and it started carving a channel in the emptiness. I was filling up and every day I saw more uselessness in stalking energy like predators must.

It was filling that opened the heart. I never knew I had one! Now I am neither black nor white but I am in love now as just a being who wants life. I will never stoop to take again as a sorcerer must as it is a dead end and who needs that? Nothing second hand can be as wonderful as the deep source I feel now.

Madame was laughing uproariously as Megan woke up.

[Delight]

Rabbit

FEAR

A long time ago - no one really knows how long ago it was - Rabbit was a brave and fearless warrior. Rabbit was befriended by Eye Walker, a witch. The witch and Rabbit spent much time together sharing and talking. The two were very close.

One day Eye Walker and Rabbit were walking along- and they sat down on the trail to rest. Rabbit said, "I'm thirsty." Eye Walker picked up a leaf, blew on it, and then handed Rabbit a gourd of water. Rabbit drank the water but didn't say anything. Then Rabbit said, "I'm hungry." Eye Walker picked up a stone and blew on it and changed it to a turnip. She gave the turnip to Rabbit to eat. Rabbit tasted it and then ate the turnip with relish. But still Rabbit didn't say anything.

The two continued along the trail, which led into the mountains. Near the top, Rabbit tripped and fell and rolled almost to the bottom. Rabbit was in very sad condition when Eye Walker got to him. She used a magic salve on Rabbit to heal his great pain and mend his broken bones. Rabbit didn't say anything.

Several days later Eye Walker went searching for her friend She searched high and low but Rabbit was nowhere to be found.

Finally, Eye Walker gave up. She met Rabbit quite by accident one day. "Rabbit, why are you hiding and avoiding me?" the witch asked.

"Because I am afraid of you. I am afraid of magic," answered Rabbit, cowering. "Leave me alone!"

"I see said Eye Walker. "I have used my magical powers on your behalf and now you turn on me and refuse my friendship."

"I want nothing more to do with you or your powers." Rabbit countered. Rabbit did not even see the tears his words were bringing to Eye Walker's eyes. "I hope we never meet and that I never see you again," Rabbit continued.

"Rabbit," Eye Walker said, "We once were great friends and companions, but no more. It is within my power to destroy you, but because of the past and the medicines we have shared together I will not do this. But from this day forward I lay a curse on you and your tribe. From now on, you will call your fears and your fears will come to you. Be on your way, for the sweet medicines that bound us together as friends are broken."

Now Rabbit is the Fear Caller. He goes out and shouts, "Eagle, I am so afraid of you." If Eagle doesn't hear him Rabbit calls louder, "Eagle, stay away from me!" Eagle now hearing Rabbit, comes and eats him. Rabbit calls bobcats, wolves, coyotes, and even snakes until they come.http://www.apogeephoto.com/marla/rabbit.htm

When Megan had reread the story in her deck of medicine cards, she went down to breakfast. Most every day Margaret and she enjoyed talking about their dreams with whomeever gathered over breakfast.

Megan described the scenario behind her dream and the dream. Both Megan and Margaret were Ok with very terrible behavior because they were old old old souls. They had learned to be unshockable and have no lasting horrors when contemplating the worst. This was simply because no matter how awful an action they had done much worse some where. Such a leveling realization. They knew pathos (illness) was a phase and psychos quite lost in hell.

This was all so very temporary however.Through facing the consequences: a basic starvation diet at the best, one finally surrendered to the feast. It is so odd how paradoxically without inner sources one gets terribly puffed out. The unlucky get so "big" they burst and start over on the being timeline if they have any interest left.

Margaret asked about Megan's impression of Madame in the dream. Megan had felt her to be much smaller in size, less haughty and mysterious, less but MORE. She was glowing in a subtle way that was very inviting as opposed to "striking".

Margaret laughed. "That is the paradox of the real and the false light."

Madame had always been very kind to Megan but she was really Big and Shiny bright so you needed sunglasses and you could not look directly. That was why the white and black had been confusing.

Megan had set a large boundary in the face of the flash. Megan had placed between her deep insides and the people she met a good sized bubble in NYC anyway as the general flash level could be overwhelming.

It was always easy to be unafraid, to be curious and interested without being pulled in, to be reflective of peace and be cordial with everyone. All that politically gentle behavior was possible. When Megan had been fully filled with her inner Presence, only then could she get close in to people. Even with that Presence, Megan doubted she could have been involved with the Madame of yesteryears.

Surprisingly, Megan in the dream had been more powerful by being less powerful. She was not ever in a dangerous place. But no protection needed, she had been able to encourage madame. Natural Immunity works better than a vaccine against bad behavior.

Megan in the dream had been spreading some healing balm that helped Madame come alive herself. Her inclination to bad behavior washed off. Megan had seen in Madame's eyes, that she was white as snow for real. Snow is very reflective of sunlight.

Now though Madame had shrunk down to a normal size, she was even more magic in the way she showed off Source.

Megan and Margaret went on to to do the Thursday chores.

Megan had a letter in the mailbox. It was from...guess who.

Dear Megan,
It is December when the Universal Divine Child (as you are) is celebrated. I am going on a trip this year to New Orleans to visit my family. They are Catholic and celebrate Christmas in an archaic but generous style of feasting until January 6th.

I have not been home since my daughter was your age. My daughter SiSi has children and they have children even! They will not recognize me and so I have sent them a Selfie (as you kids call it).

The last time we spoke, I remember you described your philosophy. Concerning moving to your new home, you demanded All is Well. You have no idea how large your spirit brightened when you were shaking your fist against straggling doubts.

You were claiming an immunity to misfortune's schemes. I admired the way you stood on the side of the Benevolence. I was quite dismissive of any hope Benevolence holds power in the world.

Later I felt that Benevolence (and I know you know what I mean by feeling). Love by every name is only as real as the true feeling.

I am enclosing a check as I know how much you like clothes and books. It would be fun helping you pick them out but maybe you order everything online. When you have time email me. I have gone online too. It's a new age for a new girl! Madamelaughs1 @gmail.com

Much love and my respects to your dear mother.
Love, Genevieve Bon Mot

[Delight]

Megan showed Margaret the letter. All the synchronicities led Megan around in her ideal days. She has a plan for the check. She wants to take the cash and hand it out to people on the street in Blue Ridge. This is an experiment she has read about from years past. But now the results might be different?

She decided on 20 and she had 20 of them. They were very crisp and smelled fresh. She played with them for a little while, enjoying the expectations of how she would spend $20.00.

Yes, clothes, some books with lots of pictures. Megan loved buying clothes and also found great books from the Humane Society thrift store. The prices were reasonable but not low as all the proceeds support the animals. It is only fair that the animals get the best food and lots of blankets and treats too. Megan wanted to buy some large milk bones for Buddy and Megan. Spending money was spreading Megan's joy around very nicely indeed.

Megan went alone down town and wore sensible shoes. She decided that she would make eye contact and if the person was not preoccupied and spacy, she would say Hi and talk and tell each one she liked spending money so wanted to help spread that gift of spending a bit. She engaged the first few who all smiled broadly and accepted the money and said. "Merry Christmas" and stuff.

She loved the way people enjoyed taking these tokens and the hugs and handshakes and one little boy about Joe's age was so excited he jumped around, hugged Megan and told his Mother "Thank You!" "Tell Megan Thank You, Not me. I coached you to say "Thanks" to me but I guess confused you" She laughed.

Before Megan could hand out all the cash, some people returned with amazing coincidental items. She had never realized she wanted these very items as much as she liked these things today...one big bag of assorted treats for puppies (and she was just thinking about liking to buy treats), some flannel PJ's, some felt slippers in rainbow colors, a couple of wrapped gifts, some cocoa, some candies and a bag of 3 pairs of woolen (hand knit by the giver) socks. One person brought a bag of apples from their orchard they happened to have in the car. This was a great stash that she never expected.

About the time Megan was finished exchanging gifts, Sheryl who brought the farm goat milk (for everyone now, not just pets), drove by and offered her a ride home so she didn't have to wait for Margaret.

What an interesting contrast to the disbelief and 15% refusal rate of the experiement she referenced from 2011. This definitely was NOT a solid replication of the previous experiments as she just gave to those who were interested in what she was doing already. By being present, they were not as resistant. If she had interrupted people they might have had no energy of attention.

She didn't think anyone had come back with gifts before? Maybe it was left off the reports? Anyway, she had ended up with just about everything she could use. Plus she had fun. Plus she had a chance to talk to Sheryl on the way home. A winning use of the gift she had been given and value added. This would be support to her theoretical paper exploring the gift economy. The pure gift economy based on appreciation exchanged between sentient beings!!