As a great experiment or a joke on myself, I decided to post the below post on the Crimson Circle facebook group - I have expanded below. More so, it was about expressing my passion for being without boundaries, and I was taking the temperature of other Shaumbra who also may have experienced sovereignty beyond a conscious/ spiritual group identity.
Surprisingly, I received an overwhelming response and the only person that got ugly with me was someone in Colorado who makes it her life's purpose to get pissed off at anything and everything. She posted that she was laughing at me and 'bye, Felicia!' - too funny and lacking in creativity. If you're going to berate me, at least be fresh and creative! :P These things breeze past me these days.
For me, the post was a huge humbling realization to realize what I was experiencing in Colorado was not mine. If I was poking fun at anyone, it was only myself. I am the butt of my own jokes - always.
Further, I was surprised to see a note from Robert Theiss who posted it in his new facebook group, Masters Unplugged. In this forum, Robert will share free bi-weekly information related to walking as a master in this life. I have not watched anything from him ever, but in my conversations with him (expansive), I am interested to see what he shares there. If you would like me to add you to that group, let me know.
Karen had asked me on Ryver if I felt that I was playing a divine/ soul will role in my time in Colorado. Indeed, I felt that I was and that I would not have played the role so well if I had not lost sight of my self sovereignty. When I go back to my experience, when I left, the three wisemen came and did a deep bow in my honor - Kuthumi, El Morya & Dwal Kuhl.
I was flabbergasted because that has never happened. What they seemed to be saying is - "Lauren, we understand how hard that role was to play, how much it sucked for your human self. While others may not see it now, for the service that it was, we see you, and we honor you for following the voice of your soul, rather than playing in the enlightenment popularity contest."
Indeed, El Morya has been spouting off about the enlightenment popularity contest that pervades spiritual and conscious groups. But I will save his musings for another time. Let's just say this - he is relentless and I love it but others, probably not so much.
In the end, those integrated souls have played many roles over many lifetimes - the villian, the beloved, the hated and admired, so who would know better than the human strife associated with it and the deep knowing of the great cosmic game called human life.
Further, as captured in this tiny post, I have begun to sense into illusory human identities as aspects (unintegrated) and roles as facets (integrated) and in recognition in the gray area between because nothing is black and white. Something I wrote about in my new book. You can get that for free here: www.becomingsarh.com.
Further, since we have covered divine/soul will in here expensively, I see the role/ facet is where your divine - god, also - experience plays out on this enlightened lifetime stage. More on that later, but someone let me know if that makes sense, please...
Here is the post extended. Curious to know what you are perceiving as self beyond firm identity and what roles you have, are playing, or will play, and how that ties into moving from perceived human free will into the expanse of divine/ soul/ master will. Please comment below with your infinite wisdom.
Strange days are here again 🎶.... it's only been five weeks or so since I left living in Shaumbraland, Colorado. In the vein of wisdomizing, I lived there two years- bought and sold a home, had many experiences, and made many friends.
When I left, I cried a thousand tears and died a thousand deaths. But if I try to recall any of the two years, the memories are as faded as my old blue jeans. Memories just as hazy if not more than my previous lives, which appear in the shadows of my consciousness.
I asked my soul why I couldn't remember, why I can't recall what it felt like to live there? It's much too far away to grasp onto anything. Too energetically expensive.
I will say I can remember one-on-one conversations (especially with my close friends); I remember deep connections. I really remember vividly all the trips I took outside Colorado, which were many - it is just the periods in Colorado where people were mad at me, asking to borrow money, owing me money, playing out the wounds of Isis and Adam, etc. that I cannot remember. I can only vaguely recall that leaders of the CC got angry at me for some bullshit. It's like it never happened. So why, my human asked,...why can't I remember something that is only five weeks away from me????
My soul replied, you were there only to play a role - the antagonist at times, the devotee at times. You felt everything every Shaumbra has ever felt, so you would know the experience. Partly for writing purposes and more so because I wanted the full experience - that is my soul's personality. Nothing half ass. For example, when I was going to do drugs in my teens, I was going to experience all of them. Full experience beyond right/ wrong, good/ bad....
My soul continued....When that role was over, the dramatic death only came from lack of awareness that it was indeed a simple role and not the illusory identity you held onto far too tightly.
Now, human Lauren, you know the difference between a conscious role, a perceived identity, and who you really are.
In these experiences, my human finally understood, it knew more fully, the I am who I am. The I AM beyond any identity or role. The cosmic grand being that I am and you are, too. The God also.
So what role are we playing now? I asked my soul - now knowing there is no time, no experience in life in which we are not playing some sort of role. In that case, if I playing a role, I choose the divine will roles rather than the old human games, unless it will be fun for me.
She said: the role of the integrated soul, who knows how to radiate, rather than absorb and reflect, unless it is an act of consciousness. The role that knows only joy and inexpressible compassion.
Indeed, I know deeply that 99% of my Colorado experience was not mine. That is why I can only remember 1%. It was the 1% that was mine. And that was all I was willing to pack and take with me. It was not a mental exercise of what was mine and what was not, but a deep soul knowing. The soul sifted on autopilot without me having to do anything. Memories erased in the divine will role play.
How often have I thought I held sovereignty, when it was nothing more than a human constructed illusion. These sort of questions will make the faint of heart wildly uncomfortable. To know nothing - absolutely nothing - is authentic is enough to blow up the human mind. Authenticity is relative!
Then my soul sang in images and sensations....
Unsubstantiated human/untethered soul, I joyously surf the waves of passionate expression - until my next starring role on my own sovereign stage emerges.
I find the human need for boundaries and declarations of "truth" evaporate when the changing tides of conscious move from absorbing to radiating. The boundaries just as illusory as the identity I was so fiercely guarding.
Thus far, this new sovereignty feels so loose, so floaty and not at all as solid and substantiated at the illusory sovereignty I thought I held before. The irony...too much not to laugh at myself and how seriously I took everything...and then I remember it was part of the act.
Xanthe, helped me with the words of this last sentence - unsubstantial - it was the perfect word to describe the sovereignty of my soul experience.
How laughable it is that sovereignty is not the image of a person standing tall holding a staff in one hand and standing their ground ready for battle but instead a soft, flowing motion that is the song of my soul?
How funny is it that I was so in battle for my boundaries that I failed to see the boundaries I so fiercely guarded were only there to protect an identity that was never mine in the first place?
In the irony of it all, is one beautiful thing: the experience called freedom!
It was August 2015 in the Texas Hill Country. The stifling heat radiating off the dry ground below in waves had given way to an unusually cool evening. I was sleeping in the back of my pick up truck.
The open air enveloped me, and I was relaxed after a long day of volunteering in the kitchen of a youth camp for refuge teens from war-stricken countries.
Washing dishes in a make-shift kitchen in the stifling sun proved so laborious, I held only one speck of energy reserved at the end of the day to do much but surrender to the exhaustion.
I had just gotten off the phone, texting with Jack - a man I spent many lifetimes with and was deeply in love with. He loved me, he said in energy not words, but we would never be together. I took the scraps he gave me like a starving dog and thanked him after he scolded me.
The night gave way to the brilliant stars that lit up the sky and a meteor shower of epic proportions filled the cosmic movie screen projected above as I drifted off to sleep. I lay unable to move in the back of the truck with nothing but a pillow, a sheet, covered with the coarse salt of dried sweat, and a copious amount of hope.
Not hope that Jack and I would be together one day. Not hope that I would stop having all these human problems that never seemed to end. It was the kind of hope that fills up your body crown to toe tips when you have nothing else to lose. Some call it freedom. It was a surrender of sorts, and more so, a path when none others were visible to the human eyes.
I drifted off to sleep. In my dream, I was driving my white truck. Suddenly, thieves approached and began to strip the car as I drove. They ripped off the rearview mirrors, even the doors - anything and everything. I found I held no fear - at all. I just watched.
When the vandals took the tires off the truck, I got out and walked, totally un-phased by the stripping of my vehicle and all that I owned. I just kept walking, nothing in my hands, only the clothes on my back. I walked steadily and peacefully. Numb but full of sensation.
I came to a stream. Jack was there, and he kissed me. But I walked on.
I walked through a knee-deep stream as my clothes began to fall off. Piece by piece I became fully naked.
And I kept walking through the water. I stepped on rocks and my feet bled, the red pools forming in the water beneath them. Jack did not follow, and I did not care. I did not look back. I didn't need to. I knew he was not there.
I passed a group of souls, beings, and I somehow knew were awake, and they said, "Stay here with us. We found Utopia."
I did not look up when I nodded in their direction. I walked on and on, through dark waters. My feet continued to bleed. All I could feel was bliss. Bliss in this moment was steadiness without a high or low. It was pure existence without interference.
I reached a stopping point, still all darkness, and there was no one there. I felt a sensation sort of like love and a lot like acceptance fill my body. It was a peace not available to the human experience and therefore held no words.
I guess it's the kind of experience which only runs on a hope no one else can taste, a freedom which only comes from losing everything. One you cannot know until you are stripped down and strung out.
After the dream, I would try to go back to human life. I continued to wash dish after dish at the youth camp. I smiled at everyone I came across and they smiled back.
And then the hope that often felt like desperation, disease, and despair turned into something else - a guiding force that would not let me stop walking. When the car died, I kept moving. When the clothes came off, I walked naked. When my feet bled, I did not stop. When people showed up, I did nothing more than smile and walk on.
These days - I have been sober for so long now - yet I am strung out.
High as a kite on the non-linearity. Spinning and twirling in infinity beyond the veils of maya.
Instead of walking, I've taken up floating and flying.
My head spins, my heart beats fast and then not at all, and I spin and spin and spin.
And that weird desperate hope thing has turned into knowing.
The knowing feels like the motion of waves in the ocean.
Am I seasick or I am experiencing a reality long forgotten?
Beyond Teaching & Learning there is...