Seriously? Ascension? WTF??…part 1

Ok so there I was didi-bopping along with my life in a reasonably happy way when “things” started happening. I had always been fairly intuitive, but as I got older I guess I kind of went into denial and put my intuition down to “instinct” or “gut-feeling”. Oh, the irony of not knowing where my intuition would lead me!

About three years ago I guess (I can’t remember the exact moment) I started to notice more and more coincidences happening in my life than usual. I’d know who was ringing me before I picked up the phone, I started to think of people just before the elevator doors opened and see them standing there, little subtle things like that. Then there were the odd synchronicities. I’d hear certain words or phrases for the first time in years that would then be repeated several times in a week for no particular reason.

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I was so tired all the time, and what’s this damn ringing in my ear? I started to lose interest in going out with mates, and would prefer some quiet time alone because of THIS DAMN RINGING IN MY EAR. My eyesight fluctuated between blurry and myopic and my muscles hurt and I got the shingles and I started crying at the drop of a hat over stupid ads on TV with puppies and toilet paper and when someone won a cooking competition and I thought “Oh no, I’ve caught the gay or something, but WHAT IS THIS DAMN RINGING IN MY EAR?” I suddenly and annoyingly started waking up at 3am, every damned morning even after way too much to drink the night before. My muscles still hurt, my eyesight was shot, I could barely stay awake during the day even though I still woke up at 3am sharp and THIS DAMN RINGING IN MY EAR IS GETTING WORSE!!!

Did I go to the doctor? No. Why not? Because I am a man, and men don’t go to the doctor unless they think they’re having a heart attack, silly. And that’s about when the heart palpitations started and I went to the doctor. ECG, blood tests, MRI, whatever. The diagnosis was that physically there was nothing wrong with me but I have to give up the booze and smokes anyway. I must remember to do that one day.

Work was becoming unbearable. I could no longer stand the routine dreariness of it, and I was tired of the same faces, the same mini-dramas, the same…same. I needed to get out. I needed change, so I did what every sane person does and quit my six-figure job and went to Sierra Leone. Yes, that Sierra Leone like in Blood Diamond with Leo D’Cappucino or whatever where they chop people’s hands off.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t go there for some hippy new-agey finding myself reason or anything, I went to start another job helping a mate who was already working there. It was an adventure, and the way he sold it to me was by telling me that not only would I have a job, but that I would be helping to rebuild a war-torn and heart-broken country along the way. That’s always nice to be able to do small things like that I’ve found in life. You see, that was something else that was happening to me; I was starting to become more…spiritual.  I was thinking more and more often about my reason for being. I had this uncanny sense of “mission” in that I knew I had something to do, I just had no idea what it was. I began to become interested in the universe. I bought a telescope and downloaded various audiobooks on multiverse theory and parallel dimensions and how to talk to angels and string theory and wait what? How to talk to … angels? Let’s forget that one for now shall we?

Sierra Leone was rotten to the core. Corrupt and broken in so many ways. Running water that barely walked, electricity as long as the hamsters kept running on the wheels that powered the station two countries away, beautiful beaches covered in the detritus of mankind. It was like looking at a mug-shot of a once famous and handsome TV star who has given themselves over to the booze and drugs. Can we fix it? No, it’s fucked. But the people… They have such heart, and such courage. After the civil war ended and the scumbag that started it all for financial gain was arrested,  the people chose to forgive those that had committed unspeakable atrocities. They chose not to hold trials, or blame, or seek revenge. As a country, they chose to forgive and move on. That is what is referred to as “Love.”

I lasted seven weeks. I had caught some sort of mega-Africa ‘flu that was a combination of ebola and bubonic plague. At least that’s what I was telling myself. Turns out I didn’t even have malaria, which is as common over there as catching a winter cold but twice the fun. No-one knew what I had, as once again I had a heap of tests. “Nothing wrong with you, give up booze and smokes”. Nice.

After a few weeks back home recovering I was due to return to Sierra Leone, but I knew that was not where I was meant to be, so I informed them I wouldn’t be coming back and started contemplating what to do next. My passing interest in the universe had now become almost an obsession. I was constantly standing outside at night looking up at the stars. I was home, but I was homesick. The sense of mission was getting stronger and stronger but the bank account was getting lower and lower so I contacted my old work and they gave me my old job back. I thought perhaps things might return to normal, but deep down I knew I had changed, and that something big was about to happen.

I returned to my old job and tried to fit in, and I did fit in. On the surface anyway. Inside I felt more relaxed, more serene I suppose than I used to be. I had cut down considerably on boozing with mates after work. Some friends I simply let slip away from my life. People that I had known for years. It just didn’t seem important to see them anymore, and truthfully, I felt no sense of loss about it. I spent more and more time watching space docos on TV, and reading, and searching. I had an insatiable quest for knowledge about the cosmos and strangely, angels. “Angels??” I hear you say. Yes. Angels. “Them fluffy things who give messages from God and stuff?” Yes. Them. “You’re fucking nuts!” I hear you say. And for a while there I might have agreed with you.

Months went past. By now I had got used to the physical ailments and was just putting the whole thing down to getting older, or it must be the cold/hot weather, or I should give up the booze and smokes, that might work (never found out), but the spiritual symptoms wouldn’t let up. By now I was experiencing synchronicities on a daily basis. My intuition was getting stronger, to the point where I could see in my mind things that were about to happen, and although I would never describe myself as clairvoyant (which is the wrong term anyway I’ve since learned) I could “sense” people’s souls. (that’s a hard one to ignore).  And the mission. Always the sense of mission.

That’s when I started getting scared. I could no longer deny to myself that something out of the ordinary was occurring in that either I was imagining it and I needed medical help, or that it was really happening in which case I needed spiritual help. Either way I needed help. So I asked for help. I prayed. For the first time since I had left school I prayed. And the angels heard my prayer.

“You have three new messages in your inbox”. Click. Want a bigger dick? Click. Delete. Click. Nasty Natasha wants to send you pictures. Click. Delete. Click. You may also be interested in this Intuitive group in your area. Click. Del…wait…Click…..hmm…yes, yes I am interested. How did they know that? Oh, yeah…DUH!

“You have two new messages in your junk folder”. Click. Want a bigger dick? Click. But how the fuck did they know that?

So along I go to see these so-called “intuitives” with a healthy sense of scepticism and a healthier sense of hangover from a mate’s 50th the night before and that’s when I saw her. The most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life. She radiated. She glowed. She lit up the room with soft, gentle light. And the angels whispered “We’ve sent you one of us”.

I was quite literally breathless, but I couldn’t just stand there gaping, so I introduced myself (I was the only bloke amongst half a dozen women) and sat down. She introduced herself first, followed by the other ladies, but I was never going to remember their names, only hers (bless, ladies. I can’t forget you now though!) and she asked why I was there. To be honest I can’t remember what I said, but I remember the knowing glances and smiles being passed between the group as I told my story. We went round the table sharing experiences and I was given offers of much welcomed guidance and support. My sense of relief must have been almost palpable. Finally I had met people who understood. People who I needn’t be afraid of. People that wouldn’t deride me, or want to put me in a hospital. They were just people who knew. Intuitively.

One of the ladies asked me about my physical symptoms (she was a nurse) and for the first time I heard the term “Kundalini” which I proceeded to immediately forget since I was so busy thinking about the angel in the room. We all had coffee and chatted and laughed (true laughter, from the belly, the type that makes one fart accidentally). It was one of the happiest days of my life.

After the meeting I went home and things seemed to return to semi-normality. I was still fatigued all the time and every day seemed to bless me with something else falling apart, but curiously the ringing in my ears had stopped. By now my spiritual side had evolved so that I accepted (or re-accepted after years of not giving it a thought) the existance of some sort of higher being and told myself that the ringing  was obviously the message to seek out the group, and now that I had done that I could follow that path to what may come. I was slightly wrong on that front. By slightly I mean astoundingly. I had no idea my life was about to change forever.

Now before I describe what happened, let me assure you that I had until this point never been particularly spiritual. I have never meditated, or fasted, or Yoga’d or anything of that nature. I was raised as a Catholic by not very religious parents because the Catholics had the best school in the area. I went along to mass and said the Hail Marys and all that sort of thing while I was at school, but I drifted away as soon as I left and never had much more to do with any sort of religion other than a lingering sense of faith that something must be out there, somewhere. So what happened next was not something I had been seeking on some long life-journey. At least not in this life.

When I woke up that morning (3am, cheers) I was feeling slightly anxious. Nothing unusual in that these days. My legs seemed a bit wobblier than normal and my old mate the ear-ringing had returned with a vengeance about a week earlier. I now referred to it as “Tone”. I had the day off work but I knew I wouldn’t be able to face the outside world that day so I’d just potter around doing  fun stuff like cleaning the house. I was getting more and more anxious as the day wore on with no idea why. I wanted desperately to talk to Her, but I didn’t know what I would say without sounding completely mental. I rang a person describing themself as a “healer” on the net in my area, but when I started talking I did indeed sound completely mental and I pretty much hung up on them.  I eventually sat down for a bit of a break. Just as I was starting to relax Tone intensified. Before I knew it I was standing up again. My feet were wide apart and my back was arching backwards as my muscles went into spasm. My arms were out beside me pointing out and towards the floor (the letter N in semaphore if you care to look). I felt a sense of knocking on the soles of my feet as if someone were hitting them with a rubber mallet. Then it started. From the base of my spine I felt an uncoiling. A warm, almost hot sensation of something climbing up towards my shoulders using my spine as a ladder. First one step, and the muscle on that side would tense, then the other. Slowly step by step, one side at a time. It was intensely sensual. Not erotic, but sensual. It was a loving feeling, not entirely comfortable but I wouldn’t describe it as painful either. At the same time this was happening I could feel my arms stretching out and an energy make its way slowly down my arms towards my hands from my shoulders. Once again the muscles seemed to spasm as the energy reached them on its way towards my hands. My hands themselves were becoming hotter and hotter to the point where they felt like balls of pure energy. There was nothing visual about this. I saw no sparks or vivid colours or anything as dramatic, it was all in silence. The energy climbing up my spine had by now reached to between my shoulder blades where it seemed to “slip” around my spine towards the inside of my body whereupon the sensation disappeared. My arms and hands lasted a few seconds longer and I still had the sensual “glow” in the muscles in my back. At this stage I was still standing. Whatever had just happened seemed to have finished almost as quickly as it started. Tone had gone back to normal level, if not a bit lower, so I went to bed and slept. Until 3am.

Still to come:

Kundalini, Awakening, Angels, Arcturians, Quantum physics, Multiverse, Parallel Dimensions plus loads more and how they are all connected to Love. Unconditional Love.

Rust Never Sleeps…March 2017

As you will be well aware, I often go for months without posting. Part of the reason for this is because sometimes I receive a flash of inspiration via download out of nowhere, and I have to get it out of my head and across to you. These downloads are not something I really understand at the time, nor have any real control over when they occur. I have often found myself reading my own writing from months or years ago and wondering how the hell I thought of that. It still spooks me out a bit, and this morning was one of those occasions (or “spookasions” if you will).

Yesterday, whilst sitting quietly tolerating a river of sweat scouring my freckle after mowing a hay-field, the phrase “rust never sleeps” popped into my head for no logical reason. It made me think of a Neil Young concert I went to many years ago when I was still young and vital. Giving it no further thought I eventually went to sleep, perchance to dream. Well, fellow woo-woos, we all know what dreams may bring…

Amongst other things (including me trying to chat up a very attractive Goth lady and being astounded by my own wit and charm…it was a dream remember), I landed a light aircraft in Moscow. I woke this morning to the usual hazy confusion thinking WTF was all that about, and why can’t I remember the Goth chick’s phone number?

The light aircraft thing bugged me as I opened my breakfast beer because in the recesses of my memory I knew it had really happened long ago, so instead of catching up on the latest U.S. unreality show starring Tweety, I googled “dude lands plane in Moscow” (I’m uber hip whilst agoogling). I was goggled at the result. A young German man did indeed land a light aircraft in Moscow on the 28th of May 1987 during what was still the Cold War.

His name was Mathias Rust.

Now I’m too far down this road to write it off as pure coincidence. Synchronicity has become like a great big hug (no homo) from the universe to me these days and my spidey senses were telling me something was up.

To refresh your memory, I’ll paraphrase what I have been signalled about this, and also include a link to Wikipedia for you to peruse the censored version:

Herr Rust was an idealistic dreamer. Only 19 years old, he was a West German who lived his life in the remnants of World War 2. He watched daily the differences between West and East Germany (i.e. the Soviet Union) and as a civilian was at the front line of any potential aggressive action from either side. For those of us who remember the Cold War, this was a very real and present danger. One can only imagine what it must have been like for a young man suffering under the guilt of his parent’s generation and not fully understanding the reasons why his world was so different from the rest of the so-called democratic West. He decided to do something about it. Naive? Yes. Delusional? Yes. Irrational? Yes. Psychologically unwell? By his own admission, Yes. Best intentions? Yes.

Herr Rust, a relatively inexperienced pilot with only 50 hours flying experience somehow got hold of a Cessna airplane and flew it from West Germany to Iceland, Sweden and Finland before heading to Moscow, Russia. The very heart of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. This is the equivalent of Luke Skywalker landing in the Death Star, or that effeminate hobbit bloke going to the South Island of New Zealand and pretending it was crap for the cameras (the only reason he deserved an Oscar by the way).

Rust, in his own mind, had a reason for doing this. He felt that recent talks between Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev had achieved nothing and, like many of his generation (my good self included), had an implicit distrust of politicians of that era who seemed more intent on keeping the WWII way of running things, and had no political (or military/industrial) incentive to change the status quo.

Rust was of the opinion that something dramatic needed to happen in order to shake the system. He was certainly not the first, nor sadly the last, deranged young man to convince himself of this.

Rust’s original intention was to land in the grounds of the Kremlin. He realised along the way that this would be counter-productive as he would be arrested immediately and all record of his flight would be sublimated by the Soviets. He decided to land in Red Square, ensuring maximum publicity, but upon arrival found it to be so full of pedestrians he flew extremely low in an attempt to warn the public. The Russian public, having no idea what was going on did not clear the way, so Rust eventually landed on Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge, and drove his aircraft to the Square like a car, whereupon he was greeted like Justin Beiber at a Girl Scouts Jamboree (that is if you’d like to imagine Soviet era underwear being thrown at your face).

Rust, inevitably and understandably, was arrested and incarcerated by the Soviet Regime. What happens to Herr Rust subsequent to this is of no relevance, and if you wish to inquire is actually quite disturbing.

The consequence of the Rust flight however was world-changing. In fact it led to arguably the second highlight of the 20th century after man landing on the moon. President Gorbachev, who had long realised that the Communist system had failed and that the Soviet people were in danger of economical collapse and potential starvation was waiting to make changes. His barriers were the old school stalwarts of Communism, and if his rivals knew what he had in mind they would have had him arrested for treason. Gorbachev wasted no time after Rust landed, and used the incident as an excuse to dismiss his enemies on grounds of incompetence, clearing the way for him to institute Perestroika, and the return of the Soviet Union to the rest of post WWII civilisation.

Herr Rust had no idea that his infamous adventure would have such far-reaching consequences, and no credit should go to him. He was a disturbed individual who could just have easily triggered a devastating reaction from the Soviets to an unknown aircraft in their legitimate airspace. The man is no hero. It was just by sheer luck that he got as far as he did without the Soviets thinking they were being attacked.

Now you’re probably thinking “Thanks for the history lesson, Mr Signalman”, but please bear with me because,  as is usual with this mystical woo-woo stuff;

There’s more to the picture than meets the eye.

“The process of rusting is a combustion reaction, similar to fire. Left in contact with oxygen, iron will react with the oxygen to form rust. Unlike fire, though, the reaction is much slower and does not create a flame.” (Wonderopolis.org)

So rust is essentially a slow but persistent chemical reaction transforming material from one state to another. Is this starting to sound familiar yet? 🙂

The actions of both Rust the pilot, and rust the process have an end result of transformation. I hope by now that this is something you resonate with, as it is our mission to transform not only ourselves, but to act as a catalyst to raise the energy of those around us so they too can begin the journey of change.

We all know how to do this now. Yes, sometimes everyday life makes it difficult to remember to operate on this higher level. I’ve been through a period over the last few months where I have had to concentrate on “real” life finding employment and somewhere to live (successfully, and looking forward to my new life, thanks for asking), but as intuitives, it doesn’t take long for us to be reminded by the universe of our task through synchronicities and gentle prods that bring us back on track.

This is the rust that never sleeps, always in the background slowly but surely encouraging us to leave behind our old selves and transform into our highest potential.

And once you’re gone, you can’t come back 😉

Love, Light and Laughter

The Signalman

P.S. A special Hej! Hvordan går det? to Denmark. Now check out the ball swinging fun the crowd is having on the video below! Made me smile at the pure joy they are having!

Every thing is gonna be alright

Well bugger me. That clown Donald McRonald is now the ringmaster.

Let’s just let that sink in for a bit…

Anyhoo, on to more important stuff. So how have you been?

I guess I owe a bit of an explanation as to my absence… over the last few months I have overcome a rather serious health issue and also quit my job and moved overseas (back to my home country). I have been a bit tied up with this stuff as you could imagine.

I did this for many reasons; predominantly because I realised that this way of life (Ascension, Awakening, Light-Working etc.) requires an honest effort. I was working in a high-stress occupation, the sole purpose of which was to make money for an already extremely rich individual, and the nature of the industry was no longer compatible with my transforming beliefs. I felt I was proclaiming myself to be a new age thinker, while at the same time living as a corporate drone. I was conflicted and unhappy. I was also continuously being gently (but not so subtly) guided towards other things. Synchronicities and dreams were all telling me that it was time to get out, and start putting into practice what I have been taught over the last few years. It was time to make that leap that my higher self knew I had to make, and to leap without fear.

Without fear? Bullshit! I’m more worried than a celebrity during the Great Star Cull of 2016…

But I know I’ve done the right thing. I have no idea what is going to happen next, and that to me is all part of the fun. I would like to concentrate on doing the things I have been writing about for a few years now. Making an active effort to raise the vibration and follow my life’s purpose, which as far as I can gather is providing the occasional giggle to people who have stumbled upon this site whilst searching for tinnitus cures.

No big post today, I will now be able to post more often than in the past, and I just wanted to touch base and let you know I’m still around, and that despite certain goings on and the uncertainty of it all, we shouldn’t worry about a thing.

Because every thing is going to be alright.

 

Love, Light and Laughter

The Signalman

 

 

Hello Darkness, my old friend – May – July 2016

Welcome back, and thanks for waiting. It’s been months since my last post and that is because there has been so much happening. I finally feel that I now at least partially understand where I am and that I’m in a position to share it with you.

2016 was always going to be a year of transition. Right from the very end of 2015 I started being visited by butterflies in different situations.

Yes, butterflies. Don’t judge me.

I began seeing them everywhere in different guises. From art to advertisements, dreams to real live butterflies all around me, and without mentioning a word of this to anyone (cos, you know… butterflies) my mother gave me a gift of an Angel holding forth a butterfly for Christmas. It was all too coincidental and the symbology was obvious to me. Butterflies represent the most beautiful aspect of change. From (sometimes) ugly worm into a beautiful,  colourful, peaceful creature that has the ability to fly and bring joy to those who see it. The butterfly doesn’t have to do anything special to achieve this. It just has to be.

The butterfly visits continued until it was announced on June 3rd that one of my childhood heroes; Muhammad Ali had passed on. I don’t think I’ve seen a butterfly since then, but I imagine it would take a shitload of them to carry him to heaven and I’m sure they will return once they’re done.

I’ll return to the butterfly symbology later in the post, as that is the easier subject. Firstly though, there is something else that I’d like to get out that is a bit more difficult and requires some effort, but by the end it is all intertwined.  Funny how this stuff works…

I, like all of us, have my dark side. I can be a moody bastard. I sulk when I feel that I am been ignored. I have in the past been too quick to judge people. I also have a passionate dislike of monkeys based solely on one that bit me for no good reason other than I tried to press-gang him into the navy whilst drunk so I could train him how to pull flags up and down while I sat there and watched (sounds ridiculous, but trust me it’s a true story).

Anyhoo… the dark side. These are generally the emotions or thoughts that we are told are “bad”, or “wrong” and perhaps even “evil” and we are taught to repress them from a very young age. We all have them: Jealousy, Anger, Resentment, Hate, Revenge… the list goes on, and just because we may consider ourselves as awakened or enlightened it doesn’t mean that these very human 3D feelings magically disappear as we absorb ourselves into a mindset of rainbows and (ahem…) butterflies. In fact, the hardest aspect of this whole journey is coming to terms with the dark side of our nature. None of us like to admit that we have these feelings, and anyone that says they don’t is either a liar or in denial (both states that could be considered “dark”).

We’d all like to think that we could didi-bop along with a smile on our face, basking in the glow of kundalini bliss whilst beaming love and light to those around us and picture some sort of Nirvana in our heads because we are earning our wings to ascend to Heaven/return home/to the mother-ship or whatever floats your boat. Suddenly though, bad shit happens and we inevitably come crashing back down to 3D. Work sucks, bills come in, car gets scratched, lover pisses you off, monkey bites you. All these things bring forward the dark side and that makes us feel worse because we felt we had moved beyond that. Do not despair my fellow woo-woos! This is all perfectly normal and should be looked upon as an opportunity. In fact, we need these things to happen for a very good reason.

As the great James Tiberius Kirk once said: “I need my pain”. (A little geek moment there, you’ll either get the reference or you won’t.) We need our dark side. We need bad shit to happen in order to learn, and part of what we need to learn is that the dark side must be acknowledged. It is part of us and serves a very important purpose. We can lock it away deep inside but we can never destroy it, indeed that would be counter-productive to the journey. Let me explain as best I can, and this is only my interpretation of what has been revealed to me over the past few months. As always, be discerning in what you take onboard as different things resonate with different souls. I promise not to get sulky!

When we are confronted with setbacks it is very human to go through the usual suspects: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. These are also known as the stages of grief. This can range from and be triggered by the slightest of things through to life altering events. When things happen that we don’t like then our dark side “first responders” come out to attack. Broken shoelace? Wrath. Cut off in traffic? Furious Anger. We go through all the stages and after the dust settles we feel guilt and shame (which, curiously, are also “dark”)  that we had this display of negative emotion seemingly come out of nowhere and harsh our awakening buzz.

Our dark side is, by and large, there to protect us, or rather protect the Ego, which we all know has a bit of an Ego problem. Without wishing to delve into areas that I have little knowledge on and require far more explanation that I am able to give, I would like to assure you that it is perfectly normal to have these feelings. They are part of us and should be treated with as much respect as Joy and Wonder, Love and Tolerance. We shouldn’t wish to amputate them from our being as we would an unsightly wart. By acknowledging and respecting the dark side it metaphorically provides us with a vital substance: Lead. Good old Plumbum. Chemical symbol Pb.

And it is this Lead we need in order to spin it into Gold through alchemy.

“What’s he on about now?” I hear you asking. Well, you have undoubtedly heard of the alchemical process which most people understand to be the magical art of turning lead into gold. If you do a bit of research on the Philosophers Stone you will get what the premise is, but by “research” I mean you have to do a bit more than watch an old Harry Potter movie. The objective is quite simple. You take an everyday, readily available and almost worthless substance and turn it into a highly valued sought after substance whereupon Hey Presto! you are suddenly very, very rich. This was a popular concept during the middle-ages when practitioners were referred to as Alchemists, or Magicians. Today we refer to them as “meth cooks”.

There is a more mystical meaning to alchemy than this however. As is often the case with the occult (which derives from the Latin for “hidden”) what you see on the surface is not necessarily anything to do with the real intent. It is more metaphorical than metaphysical in other words.

You see, the lead I am talking about here is not Pb. The lead is you.

In fact not just the Lead, but you are also the Alchemist. Your goal is to take the lead, which is yourself in the old 3D state, and through a sort of magical process you transmutate into your higher, enlightened, awakened, 5D and beyond self.

You become Gold.

Think of all the old stories; Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Ugly Duckling, Pinocchio, Beauty and the Beast, even the story of Jesus. They all have a common theme of transformation, usually precipitated by some sort of evil or “dark” deed. This is in no way a coincidence. The authors of these stories knew exactly what they were trying to convey and Mr Disney has a great deal to answer for.

How does one transform lead into gold? Anyone care to guess? You there in the back, yes you. What’s the one ingredient needed to turn lead into gold? Correct. Well done.

Love.

We start by loving ourselves. Every aspect of ourselves: light, dark, good, bad, all the mistakes and heartbreaks through to the joys and successes. We forgive ourselves and congratulate ourselves. We accept and respect ourselves for who we are because who we are now is transforming into something more beautiful, more powerful and more important than we could possibly imagine, and once this transformation is complete we can then inspire others to do the same.

If you put yourself in the caterpillars head it is not hard to imagine them being oblivious to the fact that one day they will transform into something wonderful.

All it takes is a little magic.

I’ll leave you now with a song. I’m going to ruin this song for you by asking you to do something. Every time you hear the lyrics “the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tenement halls” replace them in your head with “the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and gentlemen’s balls”.

This will make you smile. And when you smile your heart floats.

It floats like a butterfly   🙂

Love, Light and Laughter

The Signalman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s only words … March 2016

At the risk of sounding callous, and this is in no way related to certain current events, but is anyone else feeling bombarded lately? By that I mean everything seems to sound so… loud and unnecessary. Normal everyday conversations seem to drag on and on and even reading books is a bit of a chore rather than a pleasant pastime these days. This month has been especially difficult to focus as we have all being experiencing a huge increase in the level of information coming at us both from above and below. In my last post I alluded to this as I have been in an almost constant state of “download” for several weeks now. Perhaps I haven’t paid my angelic internet bill and have dropped back to dial-up speed or something, but whatever is on it’s way is going to be huge. (For those under 30, ask your mother what “dial-up”was, and while you’re at it, ask your father what “Playboy” was).

Anyway, I digress… The result of this I am finding is that I am becoming more inclined to rely on my intuition as a method of communication as it achieves a much “quicker” result. We can all do it. We know instantaneously what sort of mood someone else is in just by feeling it, so rather than approach someone who we know is crabby or flustered or stressed, we tend to steer clear if at all possible and approach the person who is serene and calm and chill without even thinking why or how we knew to do that. This isn’t some inherent mystical woo-woo ability necessarily, probably more of sensible survival instinct which saved our beloved ancestors from being thrown against the cave wall by Ugg the Grumpster (“Watch out, Ugg’s in a bad mood because he set fire to his pubes again!”).

Digressing again, sorry. It really is difficult for me to stay on track and get the message out. I know what I want to say but time is blurry and in my own head I have already said it. Does that make sense to anyone, or is it just me? That’s kind of the essence of what has been happening lately. It’s as if everything and every moment is spiralling into one faster and faster. Once it hits singularity I have no idea what will happen, but it’s going to be a fantastic show. More fun than a boobie flash at a Madonna concert anyway… So here we are at the essence; Words. Communication. Signals.

So what has been signalled to us lately? There is the obvious of course from the usual clowns, but I have no idea what they are trying to communicate so I choose to ignore them. There is a certain person who wants to be the next ring-master but he is the same shade of orange as my car so whenever I see him I think “that could be good for a laugh, but not really practical in the long run”. In fact, on this level there is nothing new being signalled to us as far as I can tell. It’s all just a rehash of the same old crap from the same old team who know their time is up and their antics stink of desperation, much like when Fonzie jumped the shark. (For those under 30, ask either your mother or father what a “Fonzie” is).

So if this world has lost it’s glory, let’s start a brand new story. Let’s manifest our dream world. Let’s manifest Love. Let’s manifest Peace. Let’s manifest Laughter. All sound a bit too hippy and woo-woo? Well, what if it was that easy? What if all it took was for us, dear readers, to smile an everlasting smile? What if we started a joke that got the whole world laughing. Yeah, different song I know but I have creative license here assholes 😉  What if we could do it simply by being what we are, being our true selves, by sheer joy and wonder at the memory of our divine selves connected as one again?

Word on the street is that it really is that easy.

 

 

You don’t have to take my word for it, but you have to believe Elvis and most of the Bee Gees because they’re in Heaven now. For those under 30 … ah, fuck it, just google Elvis.

Love, Light and Laughter,

The Signalman

Version 2.0. Back to the Future … Feb 2016

Welcome back! Yes it has been several months since I have been able to write. Partly because of being too busy, but mostly because I have been going through some immense changes of late. It has taken this long to get my head around it all, and I still don’t fully understand it, but you may also be aware that a transition/change/metamorphosis has occurred within for the Lightworkers and we’ve had a bit of an upgrade. Simply put, we have gone from Version 1.0 which was being Way-showers, Pathfinders and seekers to Version 2.0, which is Manifestors and co-creators. Many of you may have already been at this level for some time, in which case you may as well manifest yourself a cup of tea or something while us newbies catch up!

No matter what the beloved as yet unawakened ones might have us believe, we are special snowflakes who have an increasing ability to directly affect, or at least influence, events around us with our thoughts and deeds. We already know that by signalling Love and resonating on a higher frequency we can change the mood of an individual person who goes on to share that frequency with others, which in turn causes a shift on a large-scale. We have seen this more and more often over the last few years and I sincerely believe that this has changed one possible future reality (all out war and terror) of a few months ago into the relative peace and calm we are experiencing today. Those that object to this change keep trying to throw the same shit at us under rebranded names (Zika vs. Ebola for instance) in order to keep the fear alive, but this too shall pass.

This is a huge subject, and one that I would like to get further into once I have more understanding of it, but the messages are still resounding in my head. What I do know however, is that much of what needs to be explained I have written about before, and so have copied the old “Shooting from the Lip” post of 2014 below. If you have not already read it then… well shame on you really! For those that have, please take the time to read it again as it’s relevance to manifesting with our thoughts is something that we have to be extremely aware of now that our “power” has been super-charged.

I am on a break from work and hope to spend the time tending to some long put off chores (including tidying up the site) as well as going inside and connecting to all this “new” stuff. Time for a breather for me, but hope to be back within the next two weeks with a deeper understanding and better explanation of the changes.

Love and Light,

The Signalman

SHOOTING FROM THE LIP… JULY 28 2014

I don’t often watch television news these days. It was for most of my adult years a ritual to turn on the t.v at 6pm and catch up on the days events (well, the media’s version of the days events) and base my opinion on the images that were presented to me. In the “olden” days before the internet (around 1998) this is what most people did. This made it quite a simple task for the masses to be told what opinion they should have, and what side of a particular story they should believe, and why they should agree with whatever agenda those in power had in store. A more cynical person might also call this “propaganda”.

Today we are a different audience. We are more enlightened, or at least we have the ability to be more enlightened should we choose. We have a truly vast amount of information available to us at our fingertips. We no longer have to place all our trust in the media (either state-owned or corporate) and nod our heads wisely in either approval or disapproval at what is being presented to us. We owe it to ourselves to question what is happening, to research the background, to form our own opinion. After all, we are entitled to our own opinions, there is nothing wrong with that. It’s when the line gets blurred between opinion and judgement that we should be wary.

Without wanting to state the obvious there has been a fair amount happening in the world over the last few weeks upon which we may feel inclined to judge. I would humbly urge restraint on forming judgement over other people.  This is a huge trap for most of us, and one that I particularly struggle with on a daily basis. It has been ingrained into my personality to judge people. I do it several different ways: What they look like, what race they are, what job they have, what car they drive, what language they speak, what gender they are, what clothes they wear. I know I shouldn’t do this, and I am trying to make a conscious effort to stop doing this, but it is extremely difficult to break the habits of one’s lifetime. Many of you reading this will recognise that what I am attempting to do is part of the ascension process. The issues of the past need to be cleared out before we can move on. I also struggle with words. Yes, I do. I am very quick to tell a person whom I have judged to be an idiot that they are indeed an idiot (feel free to drop whatever naughty word you want in there instead of idiot). This has got me into a spot of bother recently and I asked for guidance on how to get past making instant judgements and shooting my mouth off and I was shown a tool that is helping me, and may be useful to you:

Imagine your mind is a holstered firearm. If you have had anything to do with firearms/guns/weapons,  however you want to refer to them, then you should have been taught that they are only to be used as a last resort and only to be drawn when you intend to use them. It was explained to me that even just thinking negatively about people has the power to cause harm, and that if  our first reaction is to “go for the gun” then we are subconsciously blazing away at random during everyday situations. Someone cut you off  driving?  Asshole.  BANG!  The checkout line is too slow?  Losers.  BANG!  That guy dresses funny?  Weirdo. BANG! Sound familiar? What I am trying to train myself to do is leave the judgement holstered. There are other ways of dealing with life’s little stresses without having to immediately go full Bruce Willis in our heads. Guy cut you off driving? Maybe his wife is in labour. Let it go. Checkout line is slow? Use the time to checkout any hotties around (that’s why they call it a checkout line, duh!) Random guy dresses funny? Good on him, at least he has a sense of individuality.

Utilising this strategy is slowly working for me. You may like to try another method that doesn’t involve guns and holsters, but that’s what was shown to me and resonates with my particular history and personality. If you were wondering how I was shown,  it was during sleep. It wasn’t so much a dream as it was a lesson, and I have had it explained to me that these lessons we receive in our sleep are part of the process and the reason why many of us are waking up at 3am. The lesson is over and school is out! Upon waking the lesson seemed so profound to me that I did some research and kept being referred to the teachings of Saint Germain and the Violet Flame . I’ll leave it to your discretion over how much faith you want to put in the whole “Ascended Masters” thing. To be perfectly honest a lot of them sound like made up comic book characters to me and it all gets a little bit woo-woo for my liking. This is supposed to be a Sensible Ascension after all 😉

Yes, there is much happening in the world at the moment that we could get despondent about. Airliners down, Gaza, Ebola, Africa and the Middle East in general. I choose not to focus on it here. Our job is to be happy and try to raise the vibration, not to cower in fear and spread panic. I too have times of anxiety and fear, but we can’t let those that would hold us back win. We have but a simple job to do. Keep smiling, maybe even flutter your eyelids at a stranger. I know that makes my day!

Love and Light

The Signalman

Disarm … 11 October 2015

*With the deepest apologies to Billy Corgan, George Michael, and the O’Jays…*

Today will not be a long-winded post about what is happening, fellow woo-woos. We all know what is going on, and I do not want to add to the mountain of fear-mongering or give my 2 cents worth of ill-informed advice.

All I would like to do today is remind you all that we have the power to stop this.

Disarm them with a smile, and send this smile over to them.

Disarm them by returning all the hatred and arrogance and deliberate sabre-rattling into the world as love.

Smile at a stranger, forgive, forget, let go, let it be.

What we choose is our choice.

Choose light. Choose life.

Choo Choo!

Love, Light, and Laughter

The Signalman

 

Life’s what you make it … Sep 2015

A long time ago when I was a young teenager, and therefore knew more than I do now, I had a friend who taught me a lesson. In fact he taught me several lessons; the first was to show me how to swing bowl a cricket ball, and the second was never to join him on a pushbike ride 20 kilometres to another mate’s place carrying 12 large bottles of frosty cold delicious beer in a backpack only to find that the mate is not home, resulting in drinking 3 large bottles of luke warm shaken beer, chundering, falling asleep and having to pushbike 20 kilometres carrying 9 large bottles of hateful devil’s piss home again whilst hungover.

He was the kind of guy that ‘Merkins would describe as being “All American”. A natural leader; good looking (think Top Gun Val Kilmer); good at any sport he chose; intelligent; and, in his own way, funny and charming. He had what could be described as a mischievous sense of humour. It could also be described as being fucking annoying at times. I particularly remember one day at his house when he infuriated me so much I cracked the shits, jumped on my pushbike and started pedalling furiously away. He caught up to me easily, while singing at the top of his voice “Don’t you love me Davey?” to the tune of “Don’t you love me baby?” by The Human League (which was the band du jour).

I couldn’t help but start laughing and we went back to his place and did whatever it was teenage boys did before the playstation was invented. (Don’t ever call me Davey by the way. Only his and my sisters can get away with that).

Memories of him are now coming out of long-storage, and being dusted off. Each memory contains a lesson from him and it’s pretty much a 50/50 ratio so far of what not to do rather than what should be done. Good lessons no matter which way you look at it:

• Don’t ever poke a possum with a pocket knife, it just makes them all angry and bitey.
• Don’t jump a bonfire wearing a super-hero cape.
• Don’t ever shoot a hedgehog at point blank range with a shotgun because you and your friends will end up with hedgehog guts on your faces and clothes.
• Don’t ever, ever, shake a set of Rosary beads at a Catholic Brother while threatening to “put the ju-ju” on him.
• Do, however, ask the cute red-head at the party if she’d like to dance. You just never know what might come of that.
• Do skip work occasionally to spend a day at the beach with your friends, just don’t go there with your bosses daughter.

We ended up in different high schools hundreds of miles apart, but wrote to each other occasionally. It was in reply to one of my mid-teen, late cold war, anti-establishment angst (which was the angst du jour) ridden letters of rant against the system that he taught me perhaps the most important lesson. He had a different view than I did at that time. I was at a boarding school with a strict disciplinary system, and even stricter bullying system, whereas he joined the rest of our friends at the local Dooley. His reply to my letter was simple, and surprisingly mature: Life’s what you make it.

His exact words. I’ll always remember his reply, because at the time it annoyed me. He should have been supportive of my hatred for the world, but he wasn’t. He chose to accept it for what it was and get on with life, as I suppose for him with his combination of gifts the future was bright and life was looking pretty good.

Life, however, has a habit of swing bowling without warning.

He had an accident, and was never quite the same after that.

What should have been a life full of success and attainment of goals was diverted. He faced many struggles, which must have frustrated him to the point of despair. I know it frustrated others in his life, myself included, and I regret now not being able to recognise this for what it was, and so over time we drifted apart and I never saw him again.

I did keep the lessons he taught me though:

• Don’t ever be afraid of trying something new, for it may just open up whole new worlds.
• Life doesn’t always go to plan, but that is no excuse to give up.
• If your Mum gives you money to buy Christmas presents for your sisters, and then you buy them a chocolate bar each while using the remainder to buy yourself spurs for cowboy boots when you don’t even have a horse, or cowboy boots for that matter, then your Mum is going to be very cross indeed. I’m talking purple faced angry. It’s not worth it.

In his passing he leaves me one more lesson, one that I would prefer to keep to myself for now, but one final time he has made me stop and think and see things from a different perspective. And that is something we should all do from time to time. Stop, think and see. See what no-one else can. Then go for it.

Goodbye old mate. Thanks for being my teacher, and you can be my wingman anytime!

Opere Et Veritate: Lux, Vita, Caritas.

In Word and Deed: Light, Life, Love.

The Signalman

SERIOUSLY? ASCENSION? WTF??…PART 2

Whatever it was that occurred that night had caught my attention, to say the least. I now realised that whatever was happening to me wasn’t just in my imagination. It was real. I had physical proof. I couldn’t just ignore it and live in denial anymore. After much introspection I decided to share my experience with my new friends, who by now I was seeing on a regular basis whenever my time off work would allow. Now,  I have in the past tagged along to an AA meeting with a friend as moral support, and I was impressed with the level of sharing that went on, but when you compare sharing stories such as “I woke up in a puddle of spew next to a stray dog that was chewing on my discarded undies so I decided to give up drinking” next to people who regularly (and without doubt) talk to angels, well, the rock-bottom alcoholic’s stories seem rather pedestrian. Still funny though. If you’re ever feeling like shit and need a lift, go along to an AA meeting. Take popcorn.

Where was I? Oh yeah, sharing with the group. By now I was comfortable acknowledging myself as “awakening” and saw Her as one of my closest friends and confidantes. We had been out together outside the group and spent time discussing what it was we were experiencing and different ways to approach how we could help others with the gifts we had been given. She introduced me to the concept of “Light Workers” (more about that later), and I at last began to understand what the mission was about. The more time I spent in the company of Her and the others in the group, the more I was learning. Not necessarily because I was being told what to do, or which path to follow. In fact it was quite the opposite; what I was learning was that every individual has to seek and find their own path. It is not something that can be shown to you or handed to you. It takes effort to get to know one’s true self. It takes a huge effort in fact after years and years of living, or rather existing , a life of self-imposed ignorance and denial to suddenly and quite unexpectantly have this amazing revelation about, well, Life, the Universe and everything (if you’ll forgive me a Douglas Adams moment) and then abandon all prejudice and preconception. In short, I had to change and become as a little child. That’s a quote from some other bloke who isn’t Douglas Adams.

In the meantime I still had a “real” life to live. I had to get out of bed at zero stupid thirty, shower, shave, go to work, pay the bills, clean the house, go shopping, cook  for myself (depressing), talk to the cat (hilarious when you realise you don’t even have a cat and you’ve actually been talking to the vacuum cleaner), and put up with all the ascension symptoms that were still torturing my body. Yes Tone was still as active as ever. I was still fatigued and my eyesight was getting worse and worse. Mentally I was having good and bad days, which was beginning to scare me as I was starting to wonder if I had imagined the whole thing and I might be sliding into some sort of fantasy world. It was only the contact I had with Her that was keeping me from shaking the whole thing off and going back to what I knew as reality. Red pill…Blue pill. The choice was mine.

The pain was starting to become almost unbearable. I was ringing in sick for work with false excuses, not because I wasn’t sick, but that I couldn’t tell them the real reason and expect them to believe me. It was easier to say I had a crook guts than it was to say my legs felt like lead pipes and my arms were in a constant state of tension and my back was twisting and turning like a drunk slinky. Looking back on it I think I was in fight or flight mode 24 hours a day. It becomes wearisome. I was almost exhausted both physically and mentally, then out of the blue She suggested we meet up one night for dinner as She had something She wanted to discuss regarding Light Work. We were in the middle of beef noodle soup when suddenly She became silent and gave me the most curious look. Her whole body tensed and for the next few minutes it was like that famous scene from When Harry met Sally. Her legs were cramping and in pain and She could barely talk. I had to sit there helplessly in bewilderment, then my forearms started to tense up like I was doing curls at the gym. It’s still difficult to explain what happened, but She was feeling my pain from across the table and taking it into Her body, healing me. The more pain She felt, the less I felt. She was actually psychically healing me in the middle of a Vietnamese restaurant!

Still to come:

The dark night of the soul and the wonderful days that followed, plus loads more.

SERIOUSLY? ASCENSION? WTF??…PART 3

My “reality” was beginning to blur at the edges. I knew I was sane, but if I had tried to explain the little miracles that were beginning to happen everyday to someone at work I suspect they would have had a quiet word to the boss. It was all I could do to wait for the the next meeting with the group to share what had been happening and find gentle understanding and advice. Slowly, but surely my body was changing. The pain I now realised I had been putting up with for years was receding. My energy levels were returning and my emotions levelled out. I no longer found myself tearing up at soppy TV ads or that kind of thing and my mind seemed sharper and more focussed. I also had a familiar feeling within myself that had been absent for a very long time. It took me a while to recognise what it was, but once I did I laughed out loud. It was Love. I felt Love, and with that came serenity and peace, and…happiness? I didn’t dare to hope that could be the case.

Each time something new happened I would share it with Her, usually by text or email and She in return would offer me advice or interpretation and sometimes I could do the same for Her. Our conversations are, and will always be, confidential between ourselves but suffice to say that She has been my rock. Each time I began to lose faith, or lose sight of the goal She would guide me back to the good place. It didn’t take much. An encouraging word here and there to remind me to roll with the punches and enjoy the ride. So enjoy the ride I did, until I fell off.  

I’d been having a bad few days in my “real” life. Work was unusually busy and stressful so soon after Christmas. I won’t go in to what I do, but it is a safety-critical role that involves shift-work and long hours under sometimes intense pressure. And the boss was being a prick. I understood that he was only being a prick to us because his boss was being a prick to him and so on ad infinitum, but I really couldn’t be bothered with it, and let him know it. Both barrels. Pent up rage and anger came spewing forth at this poor soul for having the audacity to pick me up on some offence so trival that I can’t even remember what it was. It felt good. I was venting, and this prick deserved it (no, he didn’t). I must have yelled at him for a full two minutes, laying out every shitty thing about work that I could think of to the point where I think I even mentioned that the coffee machine always needed filling up (really, who gives a shit!) until I was purged. Years of frustration and anger at keeping things to myself and toeing the company line were out in the open. I was standing up for myself and it felt good. Kind of. I knew I was getting myself in deeper and deeper trouble but I didn’t care. I was free. Inevitably I was told to go home early and that I should expect to be talked to when I next returned to work in a few days time. This was after a night-shift so I walked home against the incoming tide of the day-workers, with their shitty meaningless lives herding themselves towards their corporate desks in their corporate buildings so they could push emails full of lies around to each other for eight hours before they herded themselves back into their shitty cars and trains only to go back to their loveless relationships and ungrateful brat kids before doing it all again the next day. I hated, and I liked it.

By the time I got home I was seething. I’d probably just lost my job and everything around me was about to come crashing down. Fuck work. Fuck ascending. Fuck awakening. Fuck Love. Fuck Fuckitty Fuck Fuck. I considered getting drunk, but had lost the taste for alcohol lately, certainly for copious amounts anyway, so I went to bed and somehow fell asleep. I woke after only an hour or so to that voice. You know the one when you’re fast asleep and you hear someone calling out your name so clearly that you wake with a start? It seemed so real that I could have sworn there was someone (or some thing) next to my bed.

“Look outside” No, fuck off.

“Look outside” NO!

“Look outside, dickhead” Oh, for fucks sake…

I got out of bed and threw some clothes on. The last thing I should be doing after a nightshift is getting out of bed and walking in to the sunshine and city noise, but I knew if I didn’t do it I would regret it. As soon as I walked on to my balcony I saw what was been shown to me, and I smiled. And I swear I could hear them laughing. What I saw was this…

Impressive huh? I had lived in the same place for eighteen months and had never seen that before. It was the sun reflecting off the Angel star that was the only part of the Christmas decorations left. It was shining straight into my eyes, but it didn’t hurt. It was quite comforting to be honest. I managed to find my phone and took a few shots, and after a few minutes it started to fade and returned to normal. The message was plain and simple though. The angels were there, and they had something for me.

I sent the picture through to Her explaining what a bad day I was having and how I was told to go outside at the exact time to see this and She was delighted (no pun intended). She knew exactly what the message was and replied immediately. Suitably humbled I didn’t go back to bed but spent the day being productive in small ways. My mood was much, much better but now I regretted what happened at work as I would not be able to enjoy my days off knowing that I would have to face the music on return. “Ah, fuck it!” I thought to myself, but this time with mischief and not anger.

When I eventually got to bed later that night I was dead tired. I wanted to get a good sleep because there was a group meeting the next day, and of course I was looking forward to seeing Her. By now my mood had improved significantly and I had constantly been looking at the picture I took that morning just to remind myself that it was real, kind of like pinching myself to check I wasn’t dreaming I suppose. BANG!!! BUZZZZZZZZZ….oh, Hello Tone. What do you want?

It was intense. I had never heard Tone so loud. I could feel pressure on my ears as if I was in a descending airplane and I remember thinking “Oh great, just when I needed to sleep this happens” and I was out like a …well, like a light I guess.

I woke the next morning without having set the alarm so I looked at my phone. 10am. Hmm…good sleep I thought. I jumped out of bed and into the bathroom smiling at myself in the mirror. “Looking pretty buff today bro” I growled sexily. I was brushing my teeth reading the ingredients of the toothpaste on the tube (somehow toothpaste had begun to taste more ‘chemical’ than it used to) when the realisation struck me about what I had just done, and what I was doing.

As I have mentioned, a tedious amount of times, since all this started my body seemed to be failing me. Age was creeping up. Years of living like a rock star had taken it’s toll and I don’t jump out of bed anymore. Most days I can barely drag my ass out of bed. My eyesight is bad. I had recently tried on a friend’s newly acquired reading glasses and was so amazed at the difference I was intending to make an appointment with an optometrist. I don’t growl sexily at myself in the mirror. I usually try to avert my gaze as I get the dreadful sense my Dad is standing naked in the bathroom with me before I realise that it is me looking back. Not this morning though. I blinked. I read the toothpaste tube again. Perfect. I looked at myself. Was my hair somehow …darker? I took a deep breath through….both nostrils! And my filthy tar-drowned long suffering lungs responded by sending pure air, yes air, into my bloodstream which swirled around my richly beating heart and into my arms and legs and woah!! Where did THAT come from?? Little rascal (well, not that little to be fair.) I stood there agape. Then my agapeness became unseemly. The sensual feeling I experienced a few weeks earlier returned and I felt like…I felt like a goddamned panther!!

Still to come:

Note: I know I promised in previous posts the connection between my story and all the angel and awakening stuff, and I will connect it eventually. There is a much, much bigger story here than my own, but I have been thinking that in order for anyone reading to relate (and I know there are at least two of you, Hello USA, Hello India, yes I’m talking to you!) then I should get my experiences out of the way first. Once I get up to date with that (and we are nearly there, I promise) then we are at the beginning again. I freely admit I am lost. This is all new to me, that’s why I need to share. I hope someone else is out there that can identify with at least part of this and can help me, and hopefully others by sharing their experiences and how they have coped with this beautiful thing of ours. It is through sharing the Love and laughter that we raise the vibrations. And everyone deserves a good vibration 🙂

Love and Laughter

The Signalman

 

 

 

SERIOUSLY? ASCENSION? WTF??…PART 4

I returned to work with some trepidation, but knowing that whatever happened next was meant to be. And what happened next was … nothing. I was not taken into the office, my boss has never mentioned the discussion we had and in fact allowed me to take some leave at short notice. Maybe he knew I needed a break, but it seems everything has returned to normal, well not quite.

Tone has been unusually quiet of late. I get the feeling that I am being given time to adjust to the changes that have been happening and indeed I am a changed man now. I have been fortunate enough to have had certain people come into my life that opened up a whole new way of thinking for me. Reading back over what has happened in the last few months I may have given the impression that this was all turning into a wonderful cosmic love story. Unfortunately these things don’t always have a happy ending and I will no longer be going to the group, and I won’t see Her again. Why not? I have to follow my own path now and She is dealing with other things that I won’t go into, but I fully understand Her reasons.

This is not a sad thing, it’s just a thing. It’s all part of this wonderful journey and it doesn’t matter if one is ascending, awakened, enlightened whatever we want to call this, we still need to live our lives. The message that we should never forget though, is we can live those lives with Love. Be it for our families and friends, or complete strangers. We are all part of this together. Each life is intertwined in ways that we couldn’t possible imagine or explain, but the bottom line is that we are all riding on the same planet through space and none of us knows how long the ride will last, so we have to make it the best ride ever. Not just for ourselves, but for everyone around us. If we could all understand that then our mission is accomplished. At least that’s what I believe now.

I have been given an incredible gift and for me it is a second chance. This is by no means the end of the story, but for now it is a break between chapters as I learn more about why this has happened to me and what I am supposed to do with it. I will continue to search, and seek, and Love and let you in on the story along the way as it gets revealed to me.

Love and Laughter

The Signalman