As we go further into 2012, already the days and weeks and months are spinning by, accelerating, and I have just one month left in this fertile bubble called Bali. While the outer world careens through a parade of events - seemingly chaotic, more likely orchestrated from hidden forces terrestrial or otherwise - I have kept life here simple. Revising to bring new life to an old novel; snapping photographs on sunny walks through the rice fields and walkways adorned with offerings; anticipating momentous changes to come, transformation already underway.
Who is the spider, who the flower, who the hungry bird?
What is really happening in the world, and what is about to happen? On the mainstream side we find the usual diet of war and rumors of war, endless episodes of so-called terror, frightening swaths of destruction from supposedly natural forces. The alternative media paints an opposite picture of plots and plans, documenting histories of coercion and coverup, aiming for truth disclosure above national and sectarian ideologies. Financial tyranny, we are promised, is now on the brink of collapse, as earth's vast majority of good citizens will be treated to a spectacle of mass arrests of the dark cabal.
Aligned with the political, scientific and financial whistleblowers are the angelic channelers, New Age seers, and disclosers of contact with advanced beings from beyond - who keep promising to materialize "in the very near future." The legions of spiritual teachers and guides continue chanting the mantra of inner peace and self-realization, with a contemporary twist of letting go and merging with the bigger picture, surfing the planetary shift, breathing into the One body of energy that we are, the collective cosmic organism, expression of Source.
All this news coming from all sides is unmistakably taking on a different edge now, everything coming to a head, everything to be revealed, and healed.
Channeling, whether conscious or unconscious, what is needed for human evolution, our personal lives tick by nevertheless. We go out to cosmic possibility and come back again to a feeling of, okay, whether after enlightenment or still before - in other words, during enlightenment - we still chop the wood and carry the water. Only somehow the little things are more profound, more meaningful and important. At the same time we have the awareness of something other in the offing, something far greater, making those chosen particulars less meaningful, less important. Either way, both ways simultaneously, we do them, we continue, because that’s what we do.
And while waiting, anticipating, pausing in another long breath between the daily doing, we catch an inspiration to do more. On the creative alternatives side, we have the new activist paradigm to Occupy Earth (with room for the poetical hand in hand with the political); or to celebrate nature, culture and spirit in a further explosion of transformational festivals.
Always coming back to the present and personal, the one breath I am responsible for, each moment there is a new opportunity to go deeper, to the opening within, the tapping of source divinity, the space between cells, walking with lightness and light itself, in a frequency of dimensional shift, healing energy, higher vibration, sense of oneness with all.
Andromeda emissary Tolec says it will all happen in a flash, overnight as we sleep, and anyway not until January 2014. Craig Hamilton says the thing is to get up off our self-absorption, and see our consciousness raising as a collective identification and experience. Osnat says it’s more than sitting by oneself in silence and more than sitting together to Occupy Whatever; it’s whatever we do and wherever we walk, in that lightening of density, the opening of space between.
In reality, this reality here and now, the possibility and potential of a dimensional shift, of a higher vibration, of an expanded frequency, is discovered in the opening of inspiration - not so much a concept, idea, an analysis even of the biggest picture - but of moving energy in the manifest moment, in the cells themselves, the quickening of the breath, the tenor of the voice, the momentum of the words, the sudden swell of intensity of the music of the Balinese jazz funk band in the middle of their set, on the ground floor of the restaurant where everyone, in what a moment ago seemed a conventional, humdrum setting, sits up and takes notice, their heads starting to bob, their knees keeping time, their feet twitching, their eyes coming alight.