Meditative Imagery

The Repentance of the Conquistador’s Priest

Morning Meds; 2 24 22

This poem is the product of what people refer to as shadow work. Shadow work is the process of uncovering hidden aspects of your life in hopes that their discovery will aid you in making wanted changes. This particular shadow work is also based on belief that reincarnation is valid and that we may not have always been at our best behaviors during our past experiences. It is possible that events and the outcomes of personal choices, in this case misdirected fervor based on invalid information, can be carried with us from one lifetime to the next. This past stagnated energy can be addressed in the present and as we release it out of our lives the effects of it are also released. Many hard to release personal issues often dissolve after this type of work.

The imagery of this reverie was not what I expected it to be. Without going into too much personal information, what I was addressing was what seemed to be an insurmountable reluctance to move forward with what I believe I have chosen to do in this lifetime. Any boundaries we erect for ourselves are generally fear based. Addressing the possible sources of fears allows us to make different evaluations and choices.

After this experience I was reminded of a dream I had at least three to four years ago. It was when I first started to see the usefulness of following a dream in meditation. In the dream I was riding a horse, heading west on a narrow path surrounded by thick vegetation. Both the horse and I were in light armor. The main thing I remembered was that my sword was gone out of its scabbard. The scabbard was slung from straps on the left side of the saddle down across its left flank. I thought it was strange that the sword was missing, but the dream didn’t offer up much information when I pursued it.

The posts I post are my personal beliefs. I believe there are as many roads to the Supreme Being/ God/ Creator of All/ Consciousness…as there are souls to walk them. I don’t think any religion can possibly contain the immenseness of whatever or whomever the Creator of All happens to be. The fact that I believe this doesn’t make it so and it’s not my intention to step on anyone’s else’s beliefs.

In all fairness to the priests who served the church as this image unfolded, I researched the connection between the Conquistadores and the priests. I found that many of the priests petitioned for mercy for the indigenous people of the Americas.

*Fray Bartolomé de las Casas is credited with being the first priest to try to change Spanish royalties mind about the indigenous people. He argued that they were indeed human and should be treated accordingly. He freed his American slaves but kept his African slaves. Later he decided that they too should be freed. He should be commended for his change of heart, at the same time, I was amazed to see how dark the world was at that time.

In this instance some of the process of looking into the past was through a CTT technique as taught by *George Duisman. His method is modified from mainstream Tapping and what I was using was an abbreviated form that I am pursuing. I find the whole tapping technique to be very useful but am very limited my knowledge of it.

The link below is a writing that explains the location of where the subject matter of this poem is happening.

*(At the Black Sea of Imagination or The Sea of Infinite Possibility) https://storysspiritual.com/2021/12/01/black-sea-of-imagination/

The Repentance of The Conquistador’s Priest

Beyond the beyond at the shores of the Sea of Possibility, on an outcrop of stone, imagined in place. I stand before the great I AM, sins in hand.

In the midst of the pounding foam, I stand alone, pouring out the darkness of my soul.

A cloud of energy, dank to the touch, foul to the scent and lethal to the hearts of men. Darkness pouring from my blooded palms, palms that were meant to save. Palms stained by the stagnated blood of souls discounted.

A darkened cloud spreading across the sea slowly sinking down into its depths. The depository of energy spent and everything that can ever be.

Hands that have killed, stolen and harmed in pursuit of spiritual gain. Misused, abusing, tearing clutching claws removing the hearts of men.

Desperate times of disillusion. Evil times of confusion. Darkness seen as a means to reach a better end.

Confused emotions of incredible pain doing what one knows to be wrong yet commanded by the knower of all to believe that exceptions are justified.

Always fervent and always directed, always performing and ordering more. Embracing the lie, always afraid that the commander will find disdain and for me the exception will apply.

Watching sorrow grow, piled upon the corpses of children, women and men slain for their contrasting views.

Descending to the depths of the sorrow of those around me, felled by the greed of man, as I murmured an empty pray and held my cross aloft, holding the book I thought to be true. Condemning them solely because they wouldn’t accept what I said to do.

I rode the pale horse and dealt death to those around. I touched the distant end of hate and cupped it in my hand. Looked into the empty stare of lifeless eyes watching me as I rode past.

A soldier of the cross, a messenger of God, a proclaimer of truth, a covenant keeper, an eradicator of evil beliefs. Proclaiming holiness, I rode past, reins in hand, eviler than the innocents slain.

Watching mothers with rended souls rending their clothes and hair, stooping over their beheaded youth, with their fathers, husbands and friends strewn across the city squares.

Why would I fear the wrath of God? Because, I have seen it spawned through me.

I stand upon an outcrop of stone above a foaming sea, the waters rise around my feet; clutching hopes and futile expectations that physical decrees and fervent pleas can somehow absolve things already done.

They say it never ends.

Upon this slab of stone, I plead for forgiveness from all the souls that I have harmed. Please forgive me!

I thought I was found, but I now see. I was more lost than those slain through me. I was lost to the judgments of men. Men who praised justice over forgiveness, vengeance over love. Who stole wealth and horded abundance in the name of a God they didn’t know while they lied about love and hope for every man’s soul.

Forgive me, for I was blinded by politics masquerading as the voice of God. Mankind’s deception of accrediting piety to justify man’s inhumanities to man. Using a soul’s desires for sacred contact as a chain to hold them close. Creating rules promoting fear lest their captives wander away.

I see now that the effigy I lifted was merely a symbol, it’s meaning lost. The words spoken by the man hoisted upon it nearly stricken, carefully concealed by calculated deceptions.

He brought a new song to be sung. A second song to free us from the first. A song of love and unity, forgiveness and trust.

Words of compassion; feed the poor, share all you have, wash each other’s feet.

Words of peace; love your enemies, lay down your sword, carry your invaders pack.

Words of forgiveness; turn your cheek, give your cloak if they steal your shirt, let the sinless cast the first stone.

But the old song remained, it had such a catchy tune. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, execute vengeance upon the heathen, punishments upon the people.

Bury the new message in the rules of the old, proclaim the second while tapping time to the first. Say it is the wishes of the one true God and offer damnation to those who oppose.

A song of love can’t empty an enemy’s coffers, secure their land or their lives for your labor. Only the ways of the old can justify that.

Forgive me, I plead and please set me free. I see now how easily wrong can be dressed to make it appear right. How loyalty to a belief can be a cancer in one’s heart. How swiftly we can choose to look a different way so as not to see the evils this cancer can spread.

The Creator I face now is not whom I thought I was serving then and the deceptions I was taught are flowing out with the darkness I brought. The I Am I see now loves me without end and I am embraced in spite of errors I’ve done.

I see that the forgiveness I seek is not from the Creator of All. It is forgiveness from myself and from all those harmed by the atrocities done.

As this darkness of hate shrouds the face of the sea, flickers of lights sparkle and rise. The essence of all those who were slain released. The fullness of their soul never contained only the parts soured by those hateful lies.

The sparkles migrate towards the surrounding shores, their human forms return as they rise. They gather to see their part, how all our lives intermingled, how each touched each other’s hearts.

From the outcrop of stone, across the way I see the high priest of the civilization I reviled. As lost as I, looking out across the sea, watching resurrected souls rise from the deep.

Facing his own contributions to this nightmare of hate. As zealous as I, he followed what he was taught, judging and punishing those who didn’t comply.

Both of us drawn to this moment of self judgement to reminisce. Both of us guilted by our need to rule, to control, to force our way.

Disregarding love and compassion, believing that laws and punishments to be the only course. Earnestly attempting to enforce what we were taught to be true, hiding our eyes from the sorrow we birthed.

Sacrificing animals and souls to appease a God who flies through the sky in the form of a snake. A God of fury and reprisal demanding blood to gain favor.

While I served a judgmental God, created in the image of man, identical energy differently portrayed, a similar God that only blood and a death could please.

Our journey as one connected by the energy of our beliefs, not the words that were written, nor the forms that appeared, but by the energy hidden beneath.

Energies of division, exclusion, hate and fear, punishment, retribution, revenge and damnation. It’s not what is seen through a belief’s elegant presentation, it is the essence beneath a belief that reveals it’s truth.

This priest too can now forgive himself and ask for forgiveness from the souls entrusted to his charge. Whether now or at a later time, whether now or if already done. It could be his repentance that sparked these memories of mine.

The souls resurrected too can do what is needed. They can relieve themselves of this orchestrated horror. They can continue in their eternal evolution.

While all along the Creator of All reaches out waiting for love to finally take root, knowing that the excursions into judgment and hate will finally run it’s course. Knowing that the hearts and minds of man will finally adopt the better path.

For the pains I cause to others always becomes my own. The pains I cause to myself are always passed along. We are not alone in our pain, for through the magnitude of the Creator of All we are all one, immersed in Consciousness.

All man’s sorrows are like snowflakes in the immenseness of time they form and then melt when their work is done.

Their sharpness dulls when we feel ourselves renewed and we realize that our wanders here are elaborate dreams. Some a joy, some a nightmare, but all our own.

Dreams created to teach us how to abandon hate by letting love transform our soul, as we continuously grow in this bubble of air containing our tiny blue school.

*Fray Bartolomé de las Casas https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bartolom%C3%A9_de_las_Casas

*George Duisman https://sites.google.com/site/ttchtraining/audios-and-videos

Acknowledging the Silence

Morning Meds 9/30/24

I acknowledge the silence of All There Is.

It rises in my soul,

Louder than the roar of confusion.

I acknowledge the Silence

Of molecules paused in flight,

Each anticipating the presence of God.

I do see an ugly place.

A place of no saving grace,

A place of impossible change,

For it seems the choice is not my own.

Now I hear the whisper that quiets my soul.

It’s always there when I search within.

“I do see the waste of effort that uncertainty has brought

When you doubt what is possible from your heart.

Search deep, but do not look for things to fear.

Look for the things that you hold dear.

These are the strengths of your soul,

the loving parts that will endure.

Strengthen your foundation,

don’t tear it down.

Healing lies in love for self.

Power lies in love for others.

Healing is a permission given

It is not a gift withheld, when you feel unforgiven.

You are the one you wish to be

Otherwise, you would wish to be another.

We return to what we are,

That is our journey on this ball of soil.

The distractions only remind us of

what we know ourselves to be.

Look down and see the ball of light you are.

Look down and see the free soul you have become.

Look down and see the battles you no longer fight.

Look down and see how you are me

And I am you.

We are just another spark of creative essence creating realities.”

Spinning My Wheels

Morning Meds, 11/2/24

Spinning My Wheels

Spinning my wheels in useless repetition.

Clutching beliefs inscribed into the handrail of a merry-go-round called time.

Not wanting to be flung into the dust of disappointment.

I cling in desperation.

These words must be true!

They are my salvation!

Salvation from what?

It’s a question no longer asked.

If my soul is safe, and

this is but another turn on the wheel of life,

then the dangers, once currant, have passed.

I don’t await a judgement of final entrapment,

nor fiery flames to punish improper intent.

No endless darkness of searing pain,

no torment from banished angels.

All that awaits is a continuance of my life

contained in a different bracket of rules.

My consciousness expressed in a costume re-worn.

Resting again in a realm where beginning and end continually combine

in the warmth of non-existent time…

There are times, when after your fear of judgement has passed, that you still have the same knee-jerk reaction you once had when you feel your journey isn’t going as well as you prefer.

Memories From Our Eternal Future

Morning Meds 10 27 24

Fun thought during my morning meditation.

I have been meditating on the concept of simultaneous time as a healing technique.

Simultaneous time represents the notion that there isn’t anything other than “now”, and everything is happening at this precise moment.

I am trained in a past life regression technique practiced by a group called Beyond Quantum Healing. (BQH)

In our sessions, we always ask for our clients’ future selves to bring healing to the client.

With that in mind, this is what I received this morning.

“The struggles you are experiencing now are the memories of the enlightened being you are now.
There is no reason to fear.

They are memories from our eternal future that are changeable with every choice we make.”

We can always look back at something we have overcome and be grateful for growth. This was just a view from farther down the road.

We are already what we wish to be, and we are where we are hoping to go in our spiritual journey. We just need to remember it.

The best we can envision ourselves to be in the future is but a memory of ours from a place we can’t even imagine yet.

There isn’t anything else, but now.

Dream. Precognative Fire Door

Dream. Trap Fire Door
Two-part dream 10/7/24
In the first part, I was being held captive by three Asian men dressed in World War Two Japanese uniforms. They wanted me to help them close a steel door that reminds me of a safety fire door. They are installed in walls so that they will close when a fire melts the piece that holds them open. It keeps the fire from spreading to adjacent rooms.
I did not feel afraid of them. The door had slid into a slot, and they wanted me to pull it up and close it. I climbed onto a chair to get something to close it with and when I got down, I picked up the chair and pretend I was a lion tamer, swinging whatever it was over my head like a whip. They were real concerned and started yelling “No, no, no!” They were waving their arms and shaking their heads. They were afraid all of us would get in trouble weit their boss because I was making light of the situation.
I put the chair down and went over to help them. I could see that the door was to block of a long tunnel leading to the west. (Past) For me, this is an area I can explore in meditation.
Part two.
I am a maintenance man delivering a piano to a school. I am driving a 1970’s van and have the piano strapped to its top. I pull up to the front stairs, and I want to slide it down the front of the van to some other helpers. I climb on top of the van to unstrap it. Someone asks me to unload it off the driver’s side instead. A man is waiting below to help me. I give the piano a nudge, and it slides onto his shoulder, and he carries it into the school. I joke that if I knew you were that strong, I would have just tossed it down.
Next, I am walking past the east side of the school heading south so I can enter the school by a different door. I have to pass through the school yard, and it is filled with elementary children playing. Some of them have built a road with a small hill for their trucks to drive on. I am very careful not to step on their work and I have to veer to the west.
I cross a road back to the school to enter the different door…
I think the dream was to show me that I can trust my spiritual help to get me back on track.
The cool part is, three days after this dream we went to a grandson’s football game and I had to walk through an almost identical area where young children had built a road and a hill so they could play with their trucks. I had to veer to the west to make sure I didn’t disturb their roads.
Pretty cool way to get confirmation of help being supplied beyond my human abilities.

Symbol in the dream.
The three Asian men are symbolic of old beliefs that have held me captive. I don’t fear the change now, but they still influence me. “You don’t want to upset the boss.” It reminded me of what I see as an initiative dream. When my dream world first opened up for me, an Asian guide led me through a hidden door, and the next scene had to do with my religious beliefs. The chair and joking with my captors is that I saw my old boss using a lion tamers approach in dealing with people.
The fire door was in reference to the upcoming dream about silver flames and Germain. My old boss would want that door closed.
The different vehicle, an old van in the dream, speaks of a new journey. Unloading the piano differently than how I wanted to speaks to me about having patience. There may be a better way.
The piano is a common theme in my dreams it has to do with harmony and playing your own song. Speak your voice.
The children playing is youthful creativity, and for me not to disturb the opportunity of that being restored to my life.
To see the view of it as a premonition is just too sweet for words. It is confirmation that I am being helped by guides with strength beyond normal human capabilities. Carrying a piano on his shoulder.
Joking with the guide tells me to lighten up and enjoy the ride. I can just toss it to them. I am being well taken care of.

Dream Visit from Saint Germain

Dream. 10-17-24

I asked for a visit from an Ascended Master.
Master Saint Germain
Prelude.
I don’t know if I have written about this before, but we have an old cassette stereo that will turn on by itself at night sometimes. It is not set to a station, so all you hear is static. I will come into my meditation room and see and hear that it is on. I have tried to make it happen to see if it is some sort of short, but I can’t physically make it happen. Cheryl and I always joke about our ghost.
There are some other things, like two of our grandchildren waving to someone in an empty corner and hearing our names called when one of us is alone in the house. It gives you goosebumps, but it never seems menacing.
When I was feeling my worst with my treatments for throat cancer, I couldn’t sleep much longer than an hour at a time, so I would just sit in the meditation room until I felt I could fall back asleep.
One night I woke up at 3:33, and it felt like there was someone or something in our bedroom. It was strong enough to be unsettling. I got up and made my way to the meditation room to sit a spell.
The next night, when I woke up and went into the room to sit, the stereo was off. The stereo will take long pauses at times, but it has been active again. When I sat down, I looked up at the stereo, wondering why and how it turned on on its own. It immediately clicked on. (That will make for some goosebumps.) It has a clock on it that isn’t set to real time, but the time displayed was 3:33. I took this time to access whether it felt benevolent or malevolent, and all I felt was benevolent.
I contacted a friend of ours who is a medium to ask her what she thought about it, and she said that it was a new avenue opening for me in some sort of mediumship. I have been meditating on that suggestion to see how it feels.
I used to get a poem or an object lesson every morning for a couple of years, but it dried up when covid blew through. I also used to get longer informational pieces that I thought were channeled, but I was afraid to post them because I thought they were too far out and also, I didn’t want to appear as something I am not. I think part of my throat cancer was the result of me not sharing what I was given. I was not speaking my voice.
In my recent meditations, I have been asking for information or convincing nudges that could confirm that indeed I could be allowed to channel. I received a short piece of information alluding to inspiration coming from an ancient place where there are silver flames. I had never heard of silver flames.
I have also been meditating on the belief that my Dream guides and my Spirit guides are as real as the air I breathe and are as real as my neighbors. The, too, are living lives beyond my constant need for them.
When I go to sleep, I always ask that mydreamm guides, Spirit guides, and the Ascended Masters will visit me in my dreams.
As I did that the other night, I realized I wasn’t sure who all the ascended Master were, so I asked for a visit. After this dream, I looked up silver flames and was led to this conclusion.
Master Saint Germain is an ascended master. He is known for his silver violet flames. He is associated with the number 3:33.
He is “for those who hear the call to spiritual service to humanity and also provides the wisdom necessary to overcome selfishness in their lives.”
He was born in the in the early 11700s This would explain his clothing in my dream.

His spiked hair symbolized flames.
He was thought to be a liar by people who knew him because he said he knew Christ and that he was 500 years old. This would explain another part of the dream.
I hope the meaning of this dream is to show me I am being uncoupled from my past to pursue this new adventure.
I think this dream was a visit from an ascended master. I didn’t know anything about Saint Germain prior to the dream, and I still do not understand some aspects of the first part.
Dream.
When the dream starts, I am in a western town that I have never been to before, and I am given a cabin to stay in. As I am getting settled in, a man whom I don’t know comes to my door, and I decide to let him in. Right before I open the door, I remove something hanging from a hook beside the door. It turns out to be a fishing pole with a caught fish hanging on it. The end of the pole ends up over the man’s shoulder and is sticking out the door with the fish hanging down behind his head. Next, I see the head of a brown bear appearing behind him as if the bear were following him up the stairs. The bear is focused on the fish with his muzzle right beneath it. I am suddenly faced with the dilemma of figuring out how to get the guy into the house and not have the bear follow him in or hurt him or myself in some way. (My fear of channeling and the concept of fisher of men. Maybe.)
Next, I am in bed. I am laying across it, and there is something stuck under the sheets, and I can’t get comfortable. I dig around and discover it is a pillow, and I remove it. I start to get up and realize the bed is about six feet off the floor. As I slide my legs out and get ready to jump down, I think, “I will join the army and not tell my family.” Then I realize that I am forty years old, so I won’t be joining the army. (Forty has been in my rear-view mirror for a long time.)
Next, I am outside the cabin, talking to a stranger about the rodeo that is about to happen and about the fishing around the place. I told him I caught a six-pound fish here about two years ago. I started to say a twelve-pound fish, but I knew he would know I was lying. I was already lying about catching a fish two years ago. (I pride myself in being very honest, so this was really strange in the dream.)
Next, we talked about chihuahua dogs. (We were watching my sons chihuahua for a while this summer. ?)
I noticed a wire fence in front of me and that a couple strands of wire had been removed from the bottom run. I knew I could get through the fence if I crawled through the hole. (Usually, if I see a hole like this in a dream, I can meditate on it, and it opens up into a reverie. This is the first time I passed through one in a dream, even though I don’t recall crawling through.)
I must have crawled through because I was now in an open pasture area on the west side of a shallow stream. I was standing with someone whom I must have known. When he stepped into the shallow stream he disappeared through a tiny hole and I yelled to another person who was on the same side of the stream, that my friend had just fallen through a hole so small that I couldn’t throw a stone through it. I looked to the south down the stream and saw that the stream ran straight to the horizon line, but it was broken up into smaller sections by land masses like earthen bridges, these bridges forced the water to run underneath them every little bit.
As I looked down the stream, suddenly the section in front of me filled with water and in a blink, there stood a man about my height. His hair was spiked in sharp points, and his whole body and all his clothes were glowing silver. It was as if he was a living statue. His eyes glowed with the same silver gleam. He was dressed in a 17th century double breasted waist coat with a high collar. He wore knickers with ties at the knees. His silver socks disappeared into some button top shoes. I was a bit taken back by his appearance and because he was just an arm’s length away. I looked at him and repeated what I had said to the other man. “My friend fell through a hole so small you couldn’t throw a stone through it.”
He said back to me, “I believe you.” (I think this speaks of trust.)
The silver man was then behind me to the north and we were on the steel deck of what would be best described as a barge. I am not sure what it was. He was running towards me and was yelling “uncouple, uncouple, uncouple” Each time he yelled it, he would disconnect some type of chain fastening binders and throw in onto the deck of the barge. I could feel the stream and the land disconnect from the barge as if it was a separate unattached piece of land. There was never any image of the east which is always future for me. It was always just a foggy gray. The feeling of everything shifting under me woke me up.
For me, I was uncoupling from my past, and I was on a floating piece of land with a stream. A stream is always spiritual to me.

A Drop of Now

Morning Meds.

10/10/24

Fun thought.
Many scientists say that there is no time and that everything is happening simultaneously in a present moment we call now.

While meditating on this, I suddenly imagined the sound of a single drop of water sticking the surface of a puddle in a silent cave. The distinctive sound was quite clear.

This is the thought that followed…

To return to our eternal past through thought opens the door to bring what we see as our past into the focus of our present now experience.

It allows us to re-experience it, and we can glean the benefits of what we experienced because, actually, it is happening now.

If all eternity is happening at once and it can only be expressed as a now moment, then our whole eternal existence could be lived in the moment of sound created by a drop of water.

You wouldn’t think eternal life could happen so quickly.

Opening Doors

Morning Meds 10/6/24

We are a bundle of energy masquerading as a human, first and foremost.

We are often greater than our actions reveal.

Impervious to the true magnitude of our being, we struggle unaware of what lies within.

We often cling to impenetrable doubts instead of welcoming new beliefs that open the doors to new opportunities and growth.

To experience something new, it is necessary to open your mind to the possibility that the new thought might be useful to you.

We are always one with the Creator of All.

Understanding Humanness

Morning Meds 10/5/24
To continually search for an item in the wrong aisle of a store is a waste of time.
Seth* proposes the belief that we create our own reality one hundred percent of the time.
We see miracles as events that only the God’s can grant.
Maybe we see so few because we are looking in the wrong aisle?
Possibly miracles are a part of our human abilities to create realities?
It could be that we have just surrendered our ability through a misunderstanding and a disbelief of what it truly means to be human?
We are all one with our creator.

*(The Nature of Personal Reality. A Seth Book. By Jane Robert’s)

Teetering on the Tooter

Morning Meds 10/4/2024

I teetered on the totter of my living beliefs.

Every time I scooched my rear,

my weight changed the incline.

Each time I moved toward the light

brighter days appeared.

Each time I choose the dark

I leaned toward the night.

No choice is inconsequential.

Each choice affects our life.

So, as we teeter on the totter of our living beliefs

It is best for us to scooch toward the light.