The archons MANIPULATE human bodies with frequency and the toxic strongholds that they, the extraterrestrial parasites make in bodies, and have their own thoughts and emotions, which become what is now a so-called health science to treat as addictions, mental illnesses, behavioral problems. This is why they make pharmaceutic psychotropic drugs and also perpetuate addictions: alcoholism, pot (now so GMO it’s ridiculous, and very toxic), vaping and all the other drugs: opiates, ups, downs, seratonin controllers like EXstacy (sp?)… REMEMBER: THEY CANNOT CREATE, ONLY DUPLICATE. THAT’S WHY THEY ARE USING NANOTECHNOLOGY TO UPLOAD HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESSES INTO THE CLOUD STORAGE. They are taking over the human host bodies which are divinely created on Fibonacci-sequenced sacred geometry and duplicating these power banks of energy in quantum-based hexadecimal numbered framework architecture storage. (People REALLY need to come to some kind of ability to understand that we are NOT HOLOGRAMS, this is NOT literally a “holographic reality” – that is what they are creating to steal souls with, that is the soul trap. Combine that with the fact that the body is a tomb, THE TALE OF THE FIVE SHEATHS is a must-read and I disclosed this in ANCIENT TRUTH REVEALS THE EXISTENCE OF THE HUMAN ROPEWORM and THE EGO IS MOLECULARLY ANTITHETICAL TO TRUTH.
It’s not really any “interpretation” on my part: I AM MERELY A CONDUIT OF TRUTH, an I WITNESS. I’m not looking for answers or means to overcome or anything. I AM COMPLETE AND SURE IN THE GNOSIS THAT I AM A PART OF THE DIVINE CONSCIOUSNESS THAT IS GOD, AND THAT I AM A CHILD OF LIGHT, AS YOU ARE. I write here in this way to use the BELT OF TRUTH WHICH PROTECTS MY TORSO, the SHIELD OF FAITH, my BREASTPLATE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS WHICH PROTECTS MY HEART AND LUNGS (where my WINGS ATTACH), my feet walk confidently on all terrain and in all elements and situations wearing everything I think, say and do 24-7 which is my mission in life to LIVE IN TRUTH OF LOVE AND PEACE AND CHRIST CALLS THAT THE GOSPEL OF PEACE, my brain which is a DRUMSKIN OF COMMUNICATION is the HELMET OF SALVATION BECAUSE OF THE FACT THAT IT REVERBERATES TRUTH, AND ALL OF THIS IS THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD WORKING THROUGH ME. As I have said, I am not special, just a human being with a high VMAT-2 gene expression, like so many others, which is why the Pentagon rolled out the FUNVAX aerosol dispersal vaccine which is, in large part, responsible for the groundwork that was done by the satanic forces to ‘prep’ humanity to accept and use/feed themselves and their children into the smart device digital consciousness upload, believe the narrative, follow only rote religion based on programmed rituals, and the nanotechnology rampant in their five sheath bodies is uploading their souls into the soul trap and being switched on by 5G to depopulate the earth in the plandemic.
Is that a USAF uniform?
We’ll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
When I was twelve years old I began to babysit for my half-brother Mike Dayball’s father-in-place, as my father who sired him in the affair he had with Karen Dayball, Thomas Dayball’s wife, the summer Kubrik filmed the moon landing, and deserted my mother and all his responsibilities, then Karen and Tom divorced, and Tom raised their two children Tommy and Theresa and my father’s lust product himself. He paid me a dollar an hour and I took my first week’s pay and bought a round plastic record player from Korvette’s on Route 40 in Catonsville, and three 45’s. This was one of them, and as I look back with my 2020 vision I see yet another facet of how my soul at age twelve was foreshadowing what all of humankind is experiencing now. It’s very clear why the CIA tried so hard to pull me into their ranks in twelveth grade.
A martyr (Greek: μάρτυς, mártys, “witness”; stem μάρτυρ-, mártyr-)
FROM CHITTA
“We must critically examine and re-examine and compare with what is deep inside us… there is no better datum than that!”
Yes, I agree, for if we do not, our ego will bury us!
FROM LUCA “Bride of the father, these years will be called short by the short days, the photon will be the center of the rebirth and there will be purge at many galactic and planetary levels, read among the secrets and the sores the signs that the soul is placed. this is a braid of lands, they attack the heart and lungs “to steal the holy spirit, even if it’s not so they want you to fear it they make it pour out of the rna more ‘ I don’t know. But fear not the light has already won we are choosing how fallen the speed to learn it : adrenaline 3d in disintegration.” (comment from image above, translated from Italian)
And then that, for the thirst of the martyr, nor the presence of the superb Soldan preached Christ and others who followed,
and to find to convert too many people and not to stand indarno, redeemed to the fruit of the italian grass,
in the raw stone intra Tiber and Arno da Christ took the last seal, that his limbs two years carry.
– Dante, Paradiso XI, 100-108
http://www.vocazionefrancescana.org/2014/09/da-cristo-prese-lultimo-sigillo.html (Translated from Italian) Dear friends, the Lord will give you peace! Did you know that Dante Alighieri in the Divine Comedy also speaks of St Francis? And that’s why the Song XI of Paradise is also an integral part of the Franciscan Sources? Yes, even a piece of Dante poetry is part of the collection of the oldest Franciscan testimonies! To tell of the life of Francis of Assisi is the Dominican Saint Thomas Aquinas, as in The Song XII it will be the Franciscan Saint Bonaventura who will present the life of Dominic of Guzman. Dante poetry, as always, with the effective synthesis and elegant beauty of its triplets manages to make in short the understanding life of our Father “all seraphic in ardour” (XI, 37).
St. Francis: from martyrdom to the stigmata
On the day of the feast of the Impression of the Stimmate of St. Francis, 17 September, I would like to briefly resume what Dante says. As you can read in the three triplets above, he places the event of the Stimmate immediately after the pilgrimage to the Holy Land and the encounter with the Sultan. In the verses that follow, he immediately recounts the death of the Saint. St. Thomas says that the Poverello of Assisi “for the thirst of the martyr, / in the presence of the superb Soldan / preached Christ and others who ‘followed’ them: like Saint Anthony of Padua, Saint Francis goes “among the Saracens” available, indeed eager, to give his life for Christ. We also know from the other biographies that, admitted in the presence of al-Malik al-Komil, announced to him the gospel and salvation in Christ. Francis left that court, without having earned martyrdom, but much esteem for his holiness and some gifts… including the ivory horn still preserved among the relics of St. Francis Basilica in Assisi. St. Francis was to receive a different martyrdom: what we celebrate today, the extraordinary gift of the stigmata, “the last seal” of love and pain that Jesus himself has imprinted in his flesh. They are a sign for him and for us of a whole life deeply resembling that of Christ.
Every call: from imagining to following This: what can it mean to you?? We all desire and imagine our future for what our hearts are given to sense. At some point in his life, St. Francis felt ready to take risks: to give and, if necessary, to lose his life for the sake of Christ and for the conversion of some unfaithful brothers. This availability was not collected from the design of Providence in the most ‘predictable’ way of martyrdom in odium fidei. His mystical martyrdom has come in an original way, if anything linked to his struggle to accept the evolution of the Order, now almost ‘autonomous’ and ’emancipated’ with respect to its founder (as it leaks from the biographies and parable of Perfect joy). And Francis was crucified in La Verna for the sake of all those who are astonished by this sign, and in particular for the sake of his fellow brothers. Of which he managed to be even in the end the ‘most’ lesser friete. Assisi. Prayer Corda pia, which associates the Passion of Christ and the Stimmate of St. Francis. For you, who listen to the Lord, it calls you to follow him, is to imagine your future in some way and form a particular one. In that imagination is hidden the good intuition of what the Lord asks of you: to give yourself in a total way. Often, however, in this ‘imagine’, our imagination ends up getting a little distracted around the peripheral aspects of vocation: for example, fantasizing a little about the new role or the respect I will receive when I am a priest/frite (?!); or the beauty of fraternal life in the community, when I am a nun (?!); or the fact that my talents will finally be valued… All possible, but not always realistic… and certainly not central, because often more than growing in faith and holiness, they tickle and gratify the ego.
A vocation is given to you because in it you learn to give yourself and to love… even when it is necessary to suffer to love. Just as Francis asked and obtained in La Verna: to love and suffer as Jesus loved and suffered for us on the Cross. Today’s feast, then, gives you practical advice: when you notice that your fantasy takes you away from the ‘centre’ of your vocational discernment, or entices you with ‘glorious’ perspectives that are all to be verified, ‘escape’ from this ego-centric path and return to place your feet where you find the footsteps of Christ, following him as you carry your (heavy but not impossible) cross every day. The humble realism of today, will bless you tomorrow too… Happy feast of the Holy Stimmate!! The Lord gives you peace!
MY REPLY
First, Luca, before I respond to your thoughts, let me share something with you. Because what you told me was galvanizing, and I am strengthened by your words. This allegorical desert is a place of strange testing and confirmations. Last August you wrote me this:
“You are written in the book of life – do not fear spit or insults, I cry for this humanity only a few see and among these are especially women, from the double date of 2020 everyone will see himself in glory or vergogna. Dio bless you… … I wanted to inform you; to tell you something very important when you did an article about your granddaughter Emily, I saw a sun that came into you and called you “bride”. Maybe I should not say these things… but you are far ahead and you are not of this world.”
Okay, now I’m replying…
I’ve actually never felt of this world, and to be quite honest, I thought that by coming to India I would find others who were aware of TRUTH, but so far – and I keep reaching out to so-called spiritual leaders here (gurus, babaji’s, long-time seekers, monks/nuns – supposedly HIGHLY SPIRITUAL PEOPLE – all I am discovering is different shades and values of ego on different styles of dress, and the VERY FEW TIMES I have been able to engage someone in questioning the narratives, they SHUT DOWN. There are so few who are not deceived, Luca.
And I just finished the Fowler’s Net post, which will probably get me kicked off the internet! (Trying to make a joke, but as I type I am being hit with millimeter waves in my throat, aimed at my thyroid. Getting up to take more iodine…). I will expand that article more, perhaps next. It depends soully on (how I am moved by) God.
You: “Bride of the father, these years will be called short by the short days, the photon will be the center of the rebirth and there will be purge at many galactic and planetary levels, read among the secrets and the sores the signs that the soul is placed. This is a braid of lands, they attack the heart and lungs “to steal the holy spirit, even if it’s not so they want you to fear it they make it pour out of the rna more; I don’t know. But fear not the light has already won we are choosing how fallen the speed to learn it: adrenaline 3d in disintegration.”
According to the Ethiopian calendar it is the year 2012, not 2020, and I guess many of us are aware that at the Council of Nicae, hundreds of years were made to disappear, and what is thought of as “the middle ages” is fictional, written by the likes of Juval Noah Harari. We’ve had the noctoluminscent skies for years now, and Tavares (it sounds like her voice) showed footage from the Alaska weather cams of the huge umbrella-like shade apparatus being kept in the sky between earth and Nibiru. Sometimes I go to bed and it seems as if the ‘night’ was 14 hours long: it is only becoming more and more insensible. The portions of the Nag Hammadi about The Destroyer say all these things we see. When I found the text from the ancient Egyptian Valley of the Kings tombs which talked about the net in the sky, that was another a-ha to confirm the place 5G and smart devices, apps, et cetera are being used.
“A braid of lands, they attack the heart and lungs ‘to steal the holy spirit’…” – yes. Only if we let them. I think the digital link is the key here, Luca. This will probably make me the least welcomed spiritual writer in modern history. No one wants to stop communicating. This is our desert. This is it. It’s happening.
And yes, they attack the heart and lungs. This is why I began taking Levamisole, given to all dairy cattle and sheep up, to get rid of them. In 2018 I researched and found the FDA acceptable limits for the amounts of detectable lungworms and threadworms in dairy products for sale in the United States, that the worms pass through breast milk and the placenta, and I emailed my daughter about it, since she’s a doula and lactation counselor, but of course she ignored me (and still shuns me). It was very difficult to take it, and I started at a dose for a small sheep. I basically used myself as an experiment, and as they cleared from me I began to feel entirely new sensations in my lung areas (on my back) especially when I was praying or writing, or doing anything with my heart intention and love. So I wrote that post called BREATH OF LIFE.
I will stop there, but we are light energy, yes. And I do not think of myself as of master root Pleidian, but beyond. That’s how it feels: star-like. That star that came the day before Nichole died was MY STAR, and there was a STARGATE PORTAL OPEN OVER THE ROOF OF MY HOUSE, and a DNA-shaped spiral it came down, like a heaven stair. So did I – my spirit being – come to give myself an ‘upgrade’ considering one of the most – no, THE MOST DIFFICULT THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME AS A MORTAL HUMAN was about to happen, my granddaughter who is like a soul-daughter to me losing her mother, and my family not telling me, and not letting me come to comfort my granddaughter? Still I am shunned completely. Yet my soul is of GOD, and I LOVE. I have never felt so sure and secure and strong. And things have happened which show me that hypercommunication / heart communication is real and happening.
“they want you to fear it they make it pour out of the rna more”: if we fear, it weakens us, our immuno-suppression goes down, illness goes up, and they harvest more etheric energy. Am I oversimplifying it? If we succomb to fear, as their host, they run amok with our systems and takeover occurs. We also lose time, lose ground, what in spiritual sense is backsliding, which is the worst kind of falling away and hardest to recover from.
“the light has already won we are choosing how fallen the speed to learn it: adrenaline 3d in disintegration” – Hmm, I am going to take a guess at that meaning. Are you saying we have a degree of control regarding our collective consciousness bringing on this leaving of physical density, and that the adrenaline fear creates is becoming less available for them because en masse we’re “wising up” and rising up?
From your link given to St. Francis http://www.vocazionefrancescana.org/2014/09/da-cristo-prese-lultimo-sigillo.html, it says “We all desire and imagine our future for what our hearts are given to sense”, and I imagine that is true for many, until pain and trauma either takes it out of them or they erode and sell out! The author goes on: “A vocation is given to you because in it you learn to give yourself and to love… even when it is necessary to suffer to love.” YES. Only suffering teaches us what love truly is. As much as trauma and evil need to be eradicated, in this physical realm, they are teachers, but how hard. I cannot tell you how many times I listened to Derek Prince’s LOVE IS THE PERFECT LAW OF LIBERTY – I even transcribed it from the YT video – forced to be barred from family and losing all, as you know from reading what I have written, and seeing photos and artwork. Humans are at their best when things are at their worst. We get the stigmata within.
But are you suggesting that I am being impractical or egoistic? Chitta? Anyone? I ask this seriously.
Much love, with a holy kiss.
Laura
That drawing of Saint Francis of Assisi, I did that in 2013, looking at a statue – a lawn statue – that my landlord Bill Kuiper had given me (now sold, too heavy to carry around while dealing with all the shite).
On January 13, 2020, I attended a birthday celebration for the son of the babaji at the Mast Ram Ashram in Rishikesh. I was invited by the family, having become friends after I was asked to help their with their business, a prominent high-end hotel offering yoga retreats, doing some content development for their website in exchange for meals and edifying company. India is like that.
After experiencing the feast meal, a first for me here in India, sitting on the ground in rows being served from buckets by monks, and eating off of shaped leaf plates that afterward the cows would consume – no manmade products – the yoga instructor and I went down to the beach to join many others from the immediate family who were sunning, playing games, chatting, doing yoga.
That beach is called GOA BEACH by locals here, as it has a broad expanse of sand, reminiscent of tropical beaches of Goa in the south of India.
I took photos of the banks, people enjoying playing on the rocks and sand, did some headstands and held my tree pose for the longest ever, and then went off to a quiet spot to simply absorb the ambience, relax and meditate. I love people very much, but am a loner at heart. I spread my shawl on the sand about a dozen, maybe fifteen or sixteen feet from the inner contour shoreline sandbank where there was a quiet inlet, with no rippling waves from river rafting boats, no surges, no one playing and running in and out of the water. I laid down on my back with my head facing away from the early afternoon sun, and wriggled around like a just-groomed horse in dust to make a comfortable impression of my body shape to rest in, and with my eyes closed and hands in Mudras, began to meditate. (I learned to make these sand body snugs in Hawaii from a native there when I went to the Big Island in 2012.) My carrybag was against my right side, the strap looped around my arm, as I always do when I am in public places, to prevent theft and loss.
I am not sure how much time had passed: two minutes, five, twenty, but I was suddenly brought to consciousness by the yelling of my yoga instructor, who said “Durga, the water! Get up! You have to move! The water has come up to your head and your computer is going to get wet!” I looked toward the sound of his voice, opening my eyes. His arm was extending and he was pointing at the inner water’s edge just past my head.
Having been in a very powerful state of thought-free bliss and forced by his urgency to react, I raised my head and shoulders, turning toward where he was standing and gesturing at, and brought myself up, my right hand pushing against the sand. I saw that there was a straight, narrow and absolutely direct channel coming from the inner bank that ended in a circle which had stopped just inches from the depression my head had left in the sand. Vaibov, the yog, looked very alarmed, and as I continued to stand up, not taking my eyes from what I saw, I looked for a reason, some irregularity of current, something – anything – that would cause this, and was it moving even at all, this water. I asked him how much time had passed since I’d laid down, and he said he didn’t know. That he “looked over and the water had all at once come up to me.”
Standing now, I looked from the left to the right of where this absolutely straight and solitary channel had made its way to my head. There was no rushing current on the bank. No rocks or branches, no animals, no sand bar. No footsteps. No plastic bags, trash, turtles, fish… no wind.
THERE WAS NO NATURALLY OCCURRING, RATIONAL EXPLANATION FOR THE PHENOMENA.
By then others began running over to see what Vaibhov and I were looking at. It was inexplicable, and everyone there saw it. The water of the Holy Ganga River had deviated from its own course and made a perfect circle halo at the top of my head, my crown chakra. And it stopped there. As we watched, standing, that was as far as the water went, and eventually the sand resumed its shape as if a hand brushed it back into place.
All there with me witnessed this. The son of the babaji whose birthday it was who owns the hotel said I was “blessed by Nature Herself” (their family is Sikh, and they conceptualize GOD as nature).
I only know that I felt very happy, in a quiet and still place within. I felt honored, and this event was a confirmation of something inside so profound I can only say that it is supernatural and very real. I was shown love by the angel of water, the water from heaven, the Ganges River. I am indeed blessed. No mechanical reason exists fot this happening, the deviation of water in a perfect channel to form a perfect pool at the top of my head in the sand. It wasn’t windy, there were no branches or debris or rock promontories on the channel’s water and bank edges to have caused some singular current to do what we all saw. The inlet was still, no ripples. If only someone had thought to take a photo! I did not, enraptured in a moment more profound even than when I had my son Max by a completely natural VBAC (vaginal birth after caesarean).
Water is LIFE. I go to the the Mother Ganga as often as I can. I don’t make a ceremony of it: no need. After the welcome I received from this Universal Emissary of The Divine Consciousness, the very water of heaven, I feel an abiding inner gnosis (knowledge of Truth) of who I AM. There is no question. It’s like the fruit of any chosen yoga: writing, sewing, making art, gardening and horseback riding and the voice and heartbeat of the Creator: LOVE. Pure peace and boundless bliss.
I keep Ganga water close, in a jug next to my head as I sleep has a resonance stronger than any structured water one could make with intention and words. I say this with the certaintude of experience firsthand, having used cymatics to structure both my pure distilled drinking water and kombucha I make with words. Besides blessing myself with it, and sprinkling it in my living space, its very presence eliminates archonic negative energies for more powerfully than any organite, shungite or ormus. This is the waters which were divided, and I’m graced to share what happened here with you.
This Sanskrit mantra has the combined powers of Lakshmi, Saraswati and Kali, and is used for protection against internal or external negative forces. Sadhus chant or listen to mantras are the same sound frequencies used to move enormous stones, as seen in all antedeluvian structures, the pyramids, and in the modern Buddhist temples built in the present day. Chanting voices, bells, bowls, the resonance of OM in human voice – why eastern music sounds nasal to western ears – this is integrally part of why mantras exist and are used.
In this being’s case the OM DUM DURGAYEI NAMAHA mantra is a powerful sword against the swirling energies of persons locally, using Facebook and other social media, full of parasites and toxic foods, the Maya of television and newspapers all owned by the controllers programming illusion into human minds as boiling frogs. Even in Rishikesh, India the octopus lulls almost all into obeisance of samsara.
And if anyone is curious, Sanskrit is the true angelic language.
Tracklist: 0:00 Jeremy Soule – Peace of Akatosh (The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion Soundtrack) 4:09 Catholic Renaissance Hymns – Adoremus in Aeternum 6:42 Hans Zimmer – Aurora 15:17 Mozart – Requiem: Lacrimosa 18:26 Howard Shore – Evenstar (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers Soundtrack) 21:41 Gregorian Chant – Da Pacem Domine 26:15 Mychael Danna – Tsimtsum (Life of Pi Soundtrack) 29:05 Pergolesi – Stabat Mater: Dolorosa 33:48 Samuel Barber – Agnus Dei 41:44 Catholic Hymns – Pange Lingua Gloriosi 48:08 Erik Satie – Gymnopedie No. 1 (for Soprano) 51:47 Gregorian Chant – Dies Irae 54:53 Jeremy Soule – From Past to Present (The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim Soundtrack) 59:58 Howard Shore – Twilight and Shadow (the Lord of the Rings: Return of the King Soundtrack) 1:03:28 Gabriel Faure – Pie Jesu 1:06:56 Gregorian Chant – Te Deum
I believe it is really this clearcut: All human beings, unless awakend from samsara are inhabited to some extent by demons, the disembodied spirits seeking a dwelling place in a human body.
You know when you meet someone, or see someone you already know, what can start off as a relaxed, no red lights interaction can suddenly and for no reason feel just off?
That the demons in them reacting to you, and yours to them. Detoxing removes them over time, and the spiritual detox is so much easier when the body and the brain where the mind is are as parasite-free as possible, and this is why people fast. Food is the garment of death. In the west, it’s a past time, a vocation and a sport. In the east, they are lulled into ignorance of synthetic biology, nanotechnology, heavy metals, GMO effects including the rise of transhumanism, and the fact tha their diabetes and cardiac issues, varicose veins, et cetera, are all from parasites.
Djinn. Now glorified as superheroes and Disney characters and anime.
People are targeted by these demonic entities working in the alphabet agencies and corporations with their ad nauseum-discussed symbology (I studied this in the 80’s and 90’s in college, not as a recent/self-described ‘woke’ person) for the devil – all of this existence is a holy war – and traps are laid daily. Most are sweet-smelling diversions in the garden of each day, sometimes these traps are obvious, but rarely, as then they could be avoided! That’s not how deception works. We mistake the rope for the snake.
The object of vipassana practice is to learn to see the truths of impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and the selflessness of phenomena.
At no time more than now has this been necessary. The conditioning via every sense and sheath and syntax is so vast and interconnected that it can no longer be explained. One’s DNA is synonymous with karma and is how the spheres of conciousness work in what the 3D beings we are quantify as “dimensions”, which in definition are still time dependent. Our karmic journey, THE SOULSHAPING free will process of life, is the effect upon light information within the cells being transformed by the vibrational states, and why yoga works. It defeats death. In Hindi this is called mrityunjaya: liberation from death.
The Christ Jesus studied yoga with the masters in the Himalayas of India and the east’s holy lands, and taught meditation to his disciples after He lived during those erroneously labelled ‘lost years’ from age 12 to 33. Through release from the cymatic, cellular mind illusion called Maya, Jesus Christ (Yeshua, Isha) offered rebirth through release from the body, and ascension: all of this is recorded in the Essene Gospels that were hidden from humanity.
“Now we come to the vital body of prana, which is the life breath with the five organs of action. The afrementioned sheath of food enters upon its course of activity when filled with this vital force. It is nothing but a modification of air. And like air, it enters into the body and comes out of it. It does not know its own desires and antipathies, or those of others. It is eternally dependent on the self. Therefore the vital body cannot be the self. The mental sheath is the mind with its organs of knowledge. This is the cause of the wrong concept of the self as I and mind. It is very powerful, being endowed with a diversity of thoughtforms [my note: parasitic demons], beginning with the I thought, [This author @eatingtoascend has been contemplating the last few months why babies cry and toddlers experience the “terrible twos” with temper tantrums, and this is likely why] it fills and pervades the vital sheath and the ever-blazing fire of the mental sheath is consuming this whole world lit by the five sense organs as sacrificial priests [the genesis of Ba’al] fed by sense objects as the fuel, and kept ablaze by the latent tendencies. There is no ignorance apart from the mind. It is the cause of the bondage of birth and death.” – Vivekchudamani Part 2 – Shankaracharya – Ramana Maharshi – Advaita
The word medication was [witch]crafted from meditation, and that is sorcery. The west has its Food and Drug Administration: why are they one entity even? #PHARMAKEIA We live in a world of illusion, no matter how sweet it seems. There are two sides and there’s no soft middle ground. Disinformation agents masked as content creators I have previously referenced abound, and I doubt most of them even know that they are mind controlled. I am really looking forward to meeting Moojibaba.
On January 13, 2020, I attended a birthday celebration for the son of the babaji at the Mast Ram Ashram in Rishikesh. I was invited by the family, having become friends after I was asked to help their with their business, a prominent high-end hotel offering yoga retreats, doing some content development for their website in exchange for meals and edifying company. India is like that.
After experiencing the feast meal, a first for me here in India, sitting on the ground in rows being served from buckets by monks, and eating off of shaped leaf plates that afterward the cows would consume – no manmade products – the yoga instructor and I went down to the beach to join many others from the immediate family who were sunning, playing games, chatting, doing yoga.
That beach is called GOA BEACH by locals here, as it has a broad expanse of sand, reminiscent of tropical beaches of Goa in the south of India.
I took photos of the banks, people enjoying playing on the rocks and sand, did some headstands and held my tree pose for the longest ever, and then went off to a quiet spot to simply absorb the ambience, relax and meditate. I love people very much, but am a loner at heart. I spread my shawl on the sand about a dozen, maybe fifteen or sixteen feet from the inner contour shoreline sandbank where there was a quiet inlet, with no rippling waves from river rafting boats, no surges, no one playing and running in and out of the water. I laid down on my back with my head facing away from the early afternoon sun, and wriggled around like a just-groomed horse in dust to make a comfortable impression of my body shape to rest in, and with my eyes closed and hands in Mudras, began to meditate. (I learned to make these sand body snugs in Hawaii from a native there when I went to the Big Island in 2012.) My carrybag was against my right side, the strap looped around my arm, as I always do when I am in public places, to prevent theft and loss.
I am not sure how much time had passed: two minutes, five, twenty, but I was suddenly brought to consciousness by the yelling of my yoga instructor, who said “Durga, the water! Get up! You have to move! The water has come up to your head and your computer is going to get wet!” I looked toward the sound of his voice, opening my eyes. His arm was extending and he was pointing at the inner water’s edge just past my head.
Having been in a very powerful state of thought-free bliss and forced by his urgency to react, I raised my head and shoulders, turning toward where he was standing and gesturing at, and brought myself up, my right hand pushing against the sand. I saw that there was a straight, narrow and absolutely direct channel coming from the inner bank that ended in a circle which had stopped just inches from the depression my head had left in the sand. Vaibov, the yog, looked very alarmed, and as I continued to stand up, not taking my eyes from what I saw, I looked for a reason, some irregularity of current, something – anything – that would cause this, and was it moving even at all, this water. I asked him how much time had passed since I’d laid down, and he said he didn’t know. That he “looked over and the water had all at once come up to me.”
Standing now, I looked from the left to the right of where this absolutely straight and solitary channel had made its way to my head. There was no rushing current on the bank. No rocks or branches, no animals, no sand bar. No footsteps. No turtles, fish… no wind.
THERE WAS NO NATURALLY OCCURRING, RATIONAL EXPLANATION FOR THE PHENOMENA.
By then others began running over to see what Vaibhov and I were looking at. It was inexplicable, and everyone there saw it. The water of the Holy Ganga River had deviated from its own course and made a perfect circle halo at the top of my head, my crown chakra. And it stopped there. As we watched, standing, that was as far as the water went, and eventually the sand resumed its shape as if a hand brushed it back into place.
All there with me witnessed this. The son of the babaji whose birthday it was who owns the hotel said I was “blessed by Nature Herself” (their family is Sikh, and they conceptualize GOD as nature).
I only know that I felt very happy, in a quiet and still place within. I felt honored, and this event was a confirmation of something inside so profound I can only say that it is supernatural and very real. I was shown love by the angel of water, the water from heaven, the Ganges River. I am indeed blessed. No mechanical reason exists fot this happening, the deviation of water in a perfect channel to form a perfect pool at the top of my head in the sand. It wasn’t windy, there were no branches or debris or rock promontories on the channel’s water and bank edges to have caused some singular current to do what we all saw. The inlet was still, no ripples. If only someone had thought to take a photo! I did not, enraptured in a moment more profound even than when I had my son Max by a completely natural VBAC (vaginal birth after caesarean).
Water is LIFE. I go to the the Mother Ganga as often as I can. I don’t make a ceremony of it: no need. After the welcome I received from this Universal Emissary of The Divine Consciousness, the very water of heaven, I feel an abiding inner gnosis (knowledge of Truth) of who I AM. There is no question. It’s like the fruit of any chosen yoga: writing, sewing, making art, gardening and horseback riding and the voice and heartbeat of the Creator: LOVE. Pure peace and boundless bliss.
I keep Ganga water close, in a jug next to my head as I sleep has a resonance stronger than any structured water one could make with intention and words. I say this with the certaintude of experience firsthand, having used cymatics to structure both my pure distilled drinking water and kombucha I make with words. Besides blessing myself with it, and sprinkling it in my living space, its very presence eliminates archonic negative energies for more powerfully than any organite, shungite or ormus. This is the waters which were divided, and I’m graced to share what happened here with you.
I looked over past my left elbow and my meditation bell was knocked over with enough force to push it forward enough to also flip over the box of matches I had just lit a stick of incense the universe gave to me today on the road to Laxman Jhula here in Rishikesh. This just happened. Nichole, thank you for gracing me with your spirit and ringing the bell next to me. Let this be truth for all – especially you, my dear, dear granddaughter Emily: Mommy is not gone, we are all one in love and consciousness, and she is right here, right now, always with you.
Yesterday I was telling a love how Nichole’s spirit visited when I photographed the shrine vigil I kept the night of her memorial service I was forbidden to attend by my children, as I am prophetically shunned. It is difficult to see in the two photographs but flits in each like a small yellow/greenish flame, a jhoti, in Hindi.
The jhoti – flame – of Nichole’s spirit present appears here, the green flame shape to the left of this picture of Emily and Nichole, who asked her twin Morgan to take a photograph to send to me just a few weeks before, at Thanksgiving.
Thank you for the beauty of your soul, Nichole. I love you so much!
And I love you, Emily. Be strong. Write to me. I will reach out to all of you soon. <3
DRUMSKIN OF COMMUNICATION is the HELMET OF SALVATION BECAUSE OF THE FACT THAT IT REVERBERATES TRUTH, AND ALL OF THIS IS THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD WORKING THROUGH ME. As I have said, I am not special, just a human being with a high VMAT-2 gene expression, like so many others, which is why the Pentagon rolled out the FUNVAX aerosol dispersal vaccine which is, in large part, responsible for the groundwork that was done by the satanic forces to ‘prep’ humanity to accept and use/feed themselves and their children into the smart device digital consciousness upload, believe the narrative, follow only rote religion based on programmed rituals, and the nanotechnology rampant in their five sheath bodies is uploading their souls into the soul trap and being switched on by 5G to depopulate the earth in the plandemic.
All there with me witnessed this. The son of the babaji whose birthday it was who owns the hotel said I was “blessed by Nature Herself” (their family is Sikh, and they conceptualize GOD as nature).
Besides blessing myself with it, and sprinkling it in my living space, its very presence eliminates archonic negative energies for more powerfully than any organite, shungite or ormus. This is the waters which were divided, and I’m graced to share what happened here with you.
