7:56 in the morning. I turn on my phone and a text message arrives almost at once.
I get a few normal texts – the ‘C U at 3.30’ type – but not so many. Most of the texts I get are more like this one.
‘Earthman will soon discover that he is not a unique, independent creation but one of many forms of intelligence fashioned out of multi-dimensional light.’
I’ll call the sender Lucy, because it means light and she is full of the stuff, and light is what we were discussing when she came round yesterday.
She arrived clutching The Book of Enoch, a white primrose plant and a couple of custard tarts. Within the space of ten minutes, she had given me the plant, eagerly seized one of my spare copies of The Words of William (“I just opened it at random, and he’s talking about something that links to this…”), shared the cakes, and settled down with a cup of herbal tea for one of our long, rambling discussions.
Ideas bounced and ricocheted around the room like cosmic ping-pong balls. For about three hours, we quoted books, dreams, visions and images. We spoke of life, death and everything between; we spoke of other worlds and dimensions, paranormal experiences and what-it-all-means. It was exhausting and invigorating, all at once.
We’re not walking the same path, Lucy and me; we’re not even heading in similar directions, but we are finding enough synchronicities and similarities on our routes to make discussion well worth while.
Then, this morning, that text, followed half an hour later by another, insisting that
…it is important to teach the scientists that matter is generated from Light…
I’d been telling her about my thoughts, you see, about our Selves (I mean the whole divine holofractalgraphic – Nassim Haramein’s word! – Selves) as beings of Light creating physical human selves and the matter around them. I couldn’t say how, exactly. I was describing this great stream of white light consciously and intentionally moving through something like a prism, or a rainstorm… the ‘veil’ perhaps? … and separating into a spectrum of rainbow colours. I get lost in physics, and need analogies to help me find my way.
So now I had the Light Self vibrating into these different frequencies – very high vibrations up at the purple end and lower ones down at the red part. Could that, I wondered, be where we get the idea of the subtle bodies from – the ones nested inside each other like rainbow-coloured Russian dolls? Was that what the chakras were – aspects of our shining Light, stepped down so that we could spend a while experiencing physical life on this planet?
Not, of course, the only way that Light could be separated out: she spoke of other types of being our Selves could try out. Our imaginations conjured star beings in dimensions overlapping ours, glimpsed as orbs or flashes of light or quite unseen by us, but quite real and solid to themselves, just as we are to ourselves.
The conversation made perfect sense to us. To others? Not so much, perhaps.
I’m lucky to have friends like ‘Lucy’. I’m lucky that conversations – and texts – like that are part of my everyday life.