I Still Remember The Rhythm We HadUnity Consciousness #2676

(9azzzzzzt of 11)

And we prepare, wait, prepare until the IU (you and I) we've previewed as ideal, is here (from persistence, then patience)

There's a friend I haven't seen or spoken to in years, due to faults of my own selfishness exacerbated by insufficient knowledge of self necessary to maintain a healthy relationship through distance and high-stress-on-the-road-to-success life changes in search of satisfactions while trying to gain traction while slipping on superstitions and other false notions as miseducation guided missteps cause detours into gauntlets and mazes designed by races. Now with better understandings of the simultaneous coexisting multifacets of love, I realize I did not allow myself to love her to the extent she loved me. In this regards, I have been a late bloomer at least twice.
Our relationship was a natural coincidence like two seeds planted in the same hill, not by man, but by flair of a comparable sower of spirit-soul. We were dropped from above by a slingshot from the center dot of the galaxy, then carried in different vessels, but still landed in the same spot as intended by the dreamer's thought.
Ours was a friendship with the markings of: “ And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them”.
In recent years, I've dreamed of my friend without external provocation, during waking and sleeping. In keeping with the galactic rpm grove, the momentum of reoccurrence is increasing. So far in 2022, I've had at least three of these vivid sleep dreams, the most recent occurring today while I was in lucid dreaming in conjunction with human-made telepathic vision.

I met my friend, as usual, in an unrecognized location in La La Land where there were others, but, as the kamera's focal eye moved closer, others in the picture quickly faded, unable to refuse the diffusing calling them back into the rebalancing of nothing. This time she, in keeping with her gentle nature, upon recognizing me, smiled softly and said she wanted to play a song for me. With guitar in hand, she began. “I still remember”.
By applying focused energy explained in the Celestine Prophecy, I responded as I do when in tune with the renewing waters. In response,, clarity of reflections came through, helping her song continue for a long time with different rhythms in a recap of past, present and future. Those vibration rhythms translated into accompaniments and drumbeats. The magic of the moment provided a guitar for me that I held flat in my lap. Involuntary to the short-term memory of my limited self, the rest of me finally fell into rhythm with what she was making. My fingers began to spontaneously pluck the strings. In this fashion, apologies took place, me twice, by allowing delayed beauty to take shape, that time, unable to erase, allowed room to often contemplate.

From the get go, I could tell both versions of her had rehearsed this song for this moment, just as I have rehearsed various tearful cheerful espisodes when face to face again.
I love my friend. She was mine before I was hers, something I've only recently come to more comprehensively apprehend, thus appreciate with grace by the power of gods (ancestors) previously forsaken.

I know our friendship still remains because we are still here remembering, overcoming the crowding obscuring thorns of this dimension and communicating truths freely by transcending places that hold us. Like all roots whose shoots are overrun by bogus higher priorities bogarting time and space, our roots are still there, dormant, stirring, storing, waiting for new light of great day so we can re-member friendship from the precious thing spark we've carefully cocooned in the holy of holies.
This phase of incoming star age driven climate environmental change allows that which has been enslaved to still remember how to move and function in harmonious syncopated unity of consciousness, just as was shown in the Ancora Qui scene of Spirit-Soul Unchained. And it feels like freedom and preedom.

Due to finally saying whoa to pale fox on pale horse, rat maze, dog, wolf and sheep dreams, letting go, going with the spiritual flow of winding umbilical paths, wandering in all manner of deserts and rabbit holes, regrouping, resting from being pursued by self-predatory pursuits and listening by renewing oasis way stations that always appear when the focus is the next step rather than elsewhere, I am now able to more dutifully lay hold to the inheritance birthright of a far healthier knowledge of self and all else. I embrace the snail, bee drone, ant disciple, mermaid and ape shit deep in the bottom of Africa. I am now graced with the anointing of So Dayi level of awareness, the fourth stage in helping me understand that I now recognize and re-cognize love for friends to me in a much better way than I did yesterday. Ah Yes! Nakupenda. I know this simply because I now understand love more universally and personally from the expression of self and all other creations, not only from a human perspective and human religion perspective and human cultural perspective. This then is the second of four stages of a second chance to restore the delicate rhythmic dance of dynamic balance to its last known good continuous transformation configuration which allows secondary creation to be as primary creation. All this is a simple way to say the complex, an Adro way to say the Adroa, a little way to say a lot, a quick way to know what takes time to grow, a condensed way to say the expansive, a finite way to say the infinite, another way to say the more you know self the more you know all else. All this is made more rapidly achievable by using the double duality of the double primitive essence and fundamental keys to move through life levels (dimensions) of beingness.

Initiates, elsewhere see: friend, friendship, love, relationship, relationships, dream, dreams,stream, streams. Life is but a stream. Life is but a dream.

03.27.22 Update – Dream #4 in 2022

Another dream has taken place midday. As I attempted to simply rest and recuperate, I was unable to lift my head or keep my eyes open. Unusual tiredness weighed me down like a thick soggy quilted hooded cloak. The intended brief respite turned into REM sleep of rem-emberances.
As usual we sat closely, waiting impatiently for the release held back for years as we searched through pages of dress rehearsals. Our eyes, body language and breathing betrayed our attempt to temper the urgency of urgings. We spoke as quietly as possible as if telling super secrets to soulmates who had not already transcended and escaped to bare the shapes of their nakedness in the reflecting pool of waters.
We failed at pretending to be reserved while electricity energized the moment. As slowly as possible we leaned until our foreheads finally touched, resting restlessly until one of us moved to look into the other's eyes. This placed us cheek to cheek and almost lips to lips. She kissed me as lightly as a kiss could be. I did not respond in kind though bursting with anticipation. Things needed to be said first. I'm sorry she said, referring to the kiss. I'm sorry I said referring to all we've missed. All four floodgates slammed opened with such force, I woke up, leaving her once again without saying goodbye or explaining why.