War thoughts

Peace dream

There is time for everything, they say.

Now, it is time for war, they say.

I think yes.

Ashes to ashes, light to light, spirit to spirit.

The dead is dead.

The ones who stay behind are mourning their beloveds who will never return.

And just like that- tangible turned into a memory.

Big Eden has been busy in the first two days holding space for the souls who passed away from one plain to another. Balancing herself, barely. Watching a thousand souls releasing their stories into the fabric of light, some of them horrified still thinking about the last hour of their lives, some dreaming about their home.

RIP brothers and sisters.

Small Eden thought of guns.  What if they had a personal gun? It would have minimized the whole terror by 80 percent turning the broken bones and damaged nerves into a mild bearable concussion.  

Did we lose the reality of peace to find we just dream?

I don’t know.

How much do we really remember ourselves and does it matter? If you know there is no death- would it change anything? I take myself as an example because I don’t only know, I also see. I am like a gate that helps souls transition, especially if they are close. Israel is my collective and in time of need I am called from my insides. It started in 2016- caught by surprise as my body froze and my spirit lifted someone else’s essence home.

I always walk in other people’s shoes- it is the easiest way to identify. What if it happened to me? Would I be able to control myself? my anger? Odds are that if my child is killed, if purposely killed- all I’ll think about is how to eliminate the source - and I would let loose my anger. I would think about the fact that my child didn’t get the chance to explore the life he chose to experience. How much do you think I would care about the fact that we live in an illusion created by us? Not much.

You know why? Because the reality is that the dead leave this plain. You can’t hug anymore. And while you are still here, they moved on to their next chapter of their soul. Some may incarnate, some will go other places- and we are all so busy in our realities that occasionally we will high five each other above the ethers of the universe. Not enough.

Some souls I met in their crossings, just few days ago, were angels- they came specifically for this event should it happen. I mean, they came to this life not for themselves. How hard it is to lose an angel, the light of the family, servers of all.

Anyway,

I have so much to say to those who has so much to say. And although it is hard to mix one segment of perspectives with another because there is no resonance- I’ll navigate it anyway:  

If you are looking for someone to blame, some underground darkness- look inside. If this kind of murder doesn’t raise your sadness and compassion for both sides- you need to ask why. This is a classic case to see where you are at. Are you being manipulated by your limited capacity to investigate so you can point a finger, say something important on your platform, entice people into doubt to have more followers?

Or do you understand that some people are in darkness. Feeding anger, feeding fear, feeding doubt, feeding low energies because of turmoil. And as we teach for peace, some others are being taught, brainwashed from young age to hate. We, Humans, have to, and must think for ourselves - not let any institush or anyone or thing that thinks it knows better to govern the minds. Drop to your heart and think from there. Go now.

They named this war Iron Swords, and my heart fell closer to the ground. When will we call our wars Light Swords? Blue Swords? Pink Swords?

It doesn’t matter because who am I anyway? In my instinct, I still want to kill the killer.  But I also want to raise the frequency above the dirt into the grassy fertile soil.

I guess for now decentralize from the need of savior and give each of them just a sweet little gun against the RPG that knocked on so many doors. Here, protect yourself until the institush arrives.

In my mind I have a picture of how we become pirates with one leg on the ground, one leg in the deep sea, one hand touching the sky, and one hand serving the bullet and leveling with the monster.

Well,

At least until we manage to rise into the enlightened kingdom and wave hello to the dead, have a conversation- have a kumbaya of human spirits.

But for now, we mourn.

Turn anger into sadness, sadness into hope- and go to war with tears in our eyes and dreams of peace.

RIP to many friends.