April 14, 2001
Time passes, but it is of no importance now. I have achieved it.
Time is but part of the Unity, the Wholeness. It is a concept, an
expression. It has no existence of itself.
I have achieved what I set out to do. I have found my way into the
Oneness, my way to you. Never again will we be separated for long.
When we are apart, I can meld myself into your place of being. We
are One part of a One, and as such are aware of one another.
I did it, myself, with your example but without your help.
We are together now, many whens and many wheres. Fleeting memories I
have; dark woods in dark dresses, with baying dogs and muskets,
golden moonlight and white sand beaches, looking down on billowing
clouds, looking into the heart of a fire, looking out from the heart
of the fire.
Sometimes we are together, physically, clothed in flesh and bone,
experiencing the joyful unity that dissolves our earthbound bonds.
Sometimes our minds and hearts touch on some ephemeral plane, in non
touching ways.
Sometimes we oppose one another, sometimes we agree, sometimes both,
sometimes neither.
But we share it all; me with you; you with me.
The dissolution, as we fade into our surroundings, is no longer
frightening. We know, I know, that it is the end of nothing. That
there is no end, and no nothing. It is only waiting.
Time is peculiar here in the Unity. There is no past, no future.
Every moment is "now". Our adventures take us everywhen, and in no
particular order. Sometimes we live in the "Modern Era". Sometimes
we are in the "Stone Age". We go from flivvers to feet to flight.
Where we are is when we are. There is no when; there is only where,
and that where is our lives touch.
We have been together in many places, in many `times', in many
bodies. We have lived, you and I.
We have LIVED.
We have lived, and now we will go beyond that. We are to have a
child. Not a child of our bodies – we've done that before and
before – but a child of our spirit, our oneness. Something, someone
(in Unity, thing and one ARE one thing) created uniquely from our
coming together.
It is a boy child, and he is definitely of our spirit. He learns, or
is born knowing, how to dissolve into Oneness. While he is such a
young soul, I must stay with him as best I can. It is not always
easy, this staying. Sometimes your needs must separate us as my
needs are for him, but this you know, and understand, perhaps better
than I do. His time will come.
A knowing comes to us. Where it comes from, I do not know, but it is
there. We know, you and I, that there must be a sacrifice. A giving
up, a turning away, a giving back. Why, we do not know, nor what
purpose it will serve, but it must be done. We must make a sacrifice
of value.
In a modern era, I take the child on an elevator. You are with me,
but the sacrifice is mine. In a high place, you leave us, and I take
the child to privacy. It is a stark room, white and silver, with
graceful curves and crisp angles, and I place the child on a shelf.
The shelf itself is of bright silver metal, and covered in puffs of
white.
He coos with delight, this child of ours, and I watch as he begins
the melting process. I watch him as I once watched you, with horror
and grief and fear. His flesh melts into the sheets, his bones
meld into the building itself, and he is gone from us, from me.
This time, this terrible time, there will be no coming back.
And he is no longer. He does not exist. My heart can't find him, my
soul can't feel him. There is nothing where there was once a child.
Our child.
The sacrifice has been made.
Time is but part of the Unity, the Wholeness. It is a concept, an
expression. It has no existence of itself.
I have achieved what I set out to do. I have found my way into the
Oneness, my way to you. Never again will we be separated for long.
When we are apart, I can meld myself into your place of being. We
are One part of a One, and as such are aware of one another.
I did it, myself, with your example but without your help.
We are together now, many whens and many wheres. Fleeting memories I
have; dark woods in dark dresses, with baying dogs and muskets,
golden moonlight and white sand beaches, looking down on billowing
clouds, looking into the heart of a fire, looking out from the heart
of the fire.
Sometimes we are together, physically, clothed in flesh and bone,
experiencing the joyful unity that dissolves our earthbound bonds.
Sometimes our minds and hearts touch on some ephemeral plane, in non
touching ways.
Sometimes we oppose one another, sometimes we agree, sometimes both,
sometimes neither.
But we share it all; me with you; you with me.
The dissolution, as we fade into our surroundings, is no longer
frightening. We know, I know, that it is the end of nothing. That
there is no end, and no nothing. It is only waiting.
Time is peculiar here in the Unity. There is no past, no future.
Every moment is "now". Our adventures take us everywhen, and in no
particular order. Sometimes we live in the "Modern Era". Sometimes
we are in the "Stone Age". We go from flivvers to feet to flight.
Where we are is when we are. There is no when; there is only where,
and that where is our lives touch.
We have been together in many places, in many `times', in many
bodies. We have lived, you and I.
We have LIVED.
We have lived, and now we will go beyond that. We are to have a
child. Not a child of our bodies – we've done that before and
before – but a child of our spirit, our oneness. Something, someone
(in Unity, thing and one ARE one thing) created uniquely from our
coming together.
It is a boy child, and he is definitely of our spirit. He learns, or
is born knowing, how to dissolve into Oneness. While he is such a
young soul, I must stay with him as best I can. It is not always
easy, this staying. Sometimes your needs must separate us as my
needs are for him, but this you know, and understand, perhaps better
than I do. His time will come.
A knowing comes to us. Where it comes from, I do not know, but it is
there. We know, you and I, that there must be a sacrifice. A giving
up, a turning away, a giving back. Why, we do not know, nor what
purpose it will serve, but it must be done. We must make a sacrifice
of value.
In a modern era, I take the child on an elevator. You are with me,
but the sacrifice is mine. In a high place, you leave us, and I take
the child to privacy. It is a stark room, white and silver, with
graceful curves and crisp angles, and I place the child on a shelf.
The shelf itself is of bright silver metal, and covered in puffs of
white.
He coos with delight, this child of ours, and I watch as he begins
the melting process. I watch him as I once watched you, with horror
and grief and fear. His flesh melts into the sheets, his bones
meld into the building itself, and he is gone from us, from me.
This time, this terrible time, there will be no coming back.
And he is no longer. He does not exist. My heart can't find him, my
soul can't feel him. There is nothing where there was once a child.
Our child.
The sacrifice has been made.
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