1. Stripped Down & Strung Out
The following was first published on January 22, 2018
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, open air.
The breezy sky opened up and 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. There was nothing to to do 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 at the time - unrequited love of lifetimes. He loved me, he said in energy not words, but we would never be together, he said with words. 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 in the human eye.
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. I held no anger towards the theives - at all. I just watched. Neutral observer as my life was stripped away.
When the vandals took the tires off the truck, and it could not longer be driven, 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 human, yet full of soul 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 - in acknowledgement and a sign of saying I hear you but no thanks.
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 my love for another was not returned, I moved forward.
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?
2. The Tunnel
Sometime in 2017, I was living in a Shaumbra community in Colorado. I had begun to feel that instead of enhancing my impending realization, it was hindering it.
That night in my sleep, I was calmly digging a tunnel through rocky dense ground. I whistled while I worked. My headlamp lit the way in the dark night. I was alone with no fear.
Then suddenly, a shaumbra woman showed up. She had a lantern and began to push and shove me at my back. She was desperate to get out. Thinking I had found the way out, she shoved her elbows hard into my back.
I took a deep breath and with as much energy without force I could command I said, "This is my way. It's time for you to find your own."
She clawed at me some more, scratching at my face. I stood motionless and unmoved. Then I watched her turn around and go look for someone else. I did not say it out loud, but added to the energetic communication. "Only you can find your way out, and the only way is to relax and enjoy the moment."
I looked out and she was furiously digging a hole in another spot. I knew she would figure it out and soon, so I let her. the light emerged at the end of my dark tunnel, and I strolled through it, easily and with grace.
3. The I AM THAT I AM Highway
I made the move back into the land of the living in February and emerged in mass consciousness around May of 2018.
It was easier this time, and things seemed to align effortlessly. I did miss the camaraderie of my friends who spoke realization, and yet I knew I was in the right place.
In June, before the Keahak finale, I drifted off to sleep. Again, I was in my white pick up truck. I found myself at the entrance of a freeway.
The green highway sign said, "I AM THAT I AM.....789 MILES. No services. No exits. No turnarounds."
In my dream, my human facet was trying to get to Colorado, to make it in time for the Keahak finale.
An older woman showed up - she was also me - and said, "There's no going back. You have set yourself up to drive along the I AM THAT I AM highway for the rest of your physical existence."
My human facet driving the car turned around to look and see if there was an escape before driving onto this highway - the point of no return.
There were spikes that would smash my tires and all sorts of obstacles that prevented this human driver from putting the truck into reverse. The panic set into this human woman that was also me, and then she surrendered with a deep sigh.
She put the car in drive and hit the gas petal with great gusto. The old woman jumped in the car just before it entered the highway, and they became ONE. Again.
The human came back from its "vacation", or time away, and began to enjoy the road trip.
Now, what was the Infinite I (human and divine combined beyond duality) going to create?
Then I really got what New Energy meant...
New Energy is what comes after the New Age. This evolution of energetic dynamics allows for the integration of duality, including the human and divine parts of Self becoming one, a singular I AM.
While the New Age is based on vibrational energy and dimensional delineation, New Energy is expanses in all directions simultaneously, branching from the single point of the I Exist.
Lauren Hutton (Sar'h) writes adventure novels and short stories about the embodied enlightenment experience. She fancies herself a humanizing divinity journalist and DJ, and shares that work joyously on this page.