The Seventh Direction

PART THREE: Stalking Violet. Episode 73

 [. . . a peculiar sensation started palpitating. "D/A" narrates —A.A.]

The two frosted stellar God's-eyes colored snowflakes then drew closer together (closer, closer), touched, and slowly started to eclipse each the other. Magnificent! Color changed, as overlap appeared, and Violet became the One.

A peculiar sensation started palpitating

The consideration that I might be gazing upon a never-before-seen portion of myself (in one reality or other, or dimension, or plane of dreaming) did not at all commission the "peculiar" component of the feeling. (Upgrading?) But the force of The Rhythm  streaming timeless through the echo—vast and resounding—striking home and rebounding back toward the Heart of Space over and again, repeatedly . . . well, this was more powerful than I could've ever imagined; and fairly new, and fairly strange: if not fearful! Considering (and the realization hit me hard [like a ton of bricks, even though at some level I knew in part what was going on]—considering:) the constant and vital nature of this rhythmical exchange with the Universe itself, pulsing in and through the core of my being . . . or it came FROM the core of my being? Well, this then would be the peculiar sensation to which I was referring: cyclical movement, in truth, at this moment, communication OF truth to and from the far pole of Violet-in-formation. But . . . all in the light of raised consciousness? And how (should one think?) this all must feel? What with the energies-in-motion in play and playing upon self, as self begins to further conscious its potential being and the new dimension, or the interdimensionality of it all, to which there is now common-passage diametrically through The Veil (The Veil!) which Self has rendered void? I don't know—how should it feel? And, of course, not to forget the color purple, gratitude, one of Grandmother's seven gifts of birth most-important. And balance, most-important too (same, same), and . . . and being in touch with one's self to the core, which, in my mind, is same and synchronous with touching in upon our foundation—The Universal, our Origin. And then to put this all together? And to have it make sense consciously? To do so, blindly, with The Veil intact, is one thing—and we all do so every day, wrong or right, by virtue of our gathered wisdoms, or, sadly, by virtue of our veiled-conditionings and adopted half-truths. But to do so consciously (dear me, you'd THINK I was talking to Aces or chastising Dorothy!), with eyes wide open to the new and further reaches of heart and mind? And then to view the "beyond the veil" as it happens?

I let go this line of thinking. Let go. Let go. Not to overly foreshadow (or back-shadow) but this line of thinking was due in part, I think so, to Mind's scathing experience with that blasted, frighteningly overpowering ball-of-light! Let go. Mm-hmm. For now I felt inspired to feel everything with gratitude. Gratitude—that seemed to be what The Rhythm emanating from out my focal point-of-vision was telling me; and violet it was. And it was reflective of my center-of-being, and also of my fourth-gift, both which—through love—were trying to come into alignment.

(Sooooon, I hope.)

Through the tunnel, across the Void, the two were fully eclipsed. One constellation. And the stars within The One (with renewed movement) had spread far and wide, out near the rim, dancing round the fringes of their containment, and growing brighter. Their purple field faded. The band of stars then joined hands and started to circle, gaining speed, and faster, and faster, till all that could be seen was—brilliant—an 8th ring-of-light (black within). And movement seemed to cease. And the ring of stars, appearing to be a solid ring, devoid of motion, slowly began to wobble, back and forth, back and forth, teetering, tipping, trying to flip itself over (the ring), or perhaps to rotate anew on some invisible or unobserved axis.