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Photo by Clique Retire on Unsplash

A few days ago, the phrase “25 years” leapt at me from the page I was reading. Source sends messages this way, if we pay attention. The phrase, bolded and highlighted, {which, on the page it was neither} grabbed my attention and held on.

What if I did have another 25 years? I realized, as I moved into meditation, that part of me had drifted into a tacit acceptance of the collective view of my age. Well, bollocks to that! This summer holds my 65th anniversary of birthing into this body, and my housemate has been loquaciously anticipating this event…


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Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

Stretch, open your eyes to where you come from,
you who are light from light,
sown from the seeds of other dimensions,
other systems.

You who have sailed the greatest of seas,
the Multiverse runs through your veins,
forming the spiral dance of DNA
unlocking the integration possible in your NOW.

Remember who you are.

Once upon a star system,
encodings were planted with love,
watered with hope, and
fed with patience.

Long ago,
from your perspective,
we wove these strands to assist your awakening,
never knowing when or whether they might flourish.
Nurturing the inevitability of what might be.


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Photo by Julia Barbosa on Unsplash

Templates of Transmitted Truth; Here’s What Happened

From 2009 and into 2016, the archetypal forms of the Goddess transmitted through me. I have described elsewhere how Source, in this form, so familiar, yet unknown, grabbed me by the scruff and shook… hard. I had awakened in the patriarchal traditions of our time… and “That’s enough of THAT!” She laughed as she shook me, old ideas, cosmologies and understandings falling from me like dust from a beaten carpet.

In my meditations, each danced an upgraded — refurbished — refined series of ‘new cycle’ configurations. There were many, some subtle, some massively altered from traditional teachings. Some played through…


We are all multidimensional beings. The engineered 'split' between 3/5 D is one of perspective... that, yes, has been dualistically framed into perceptively rigid structures. In truth, most of this world now floats foundationally in 4D, the dimension which creates time as strucure.It is a bridge type of reality experience to ease the transit most are experiencing from 3 to 5 D. From a mulutidimensional perspecdtive, there are infinite points of view. We have an opportunity to integrate as many points of view as possible within this lifetime. I remember, during my dark night experience, integrating all sorts... including povs I feared or that were repulsive to the 'me' that was undergoing the transformation. Not only from one dimension to another, but infinite perspectives from many.

The article is brilliant and a good first step into the wider perspective we will all eventually confront.


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Photo by wilsan u on Unsplash

Not a resting place for the ashes of old lives

Forty years ago

“Be careful!” his voice stopped me in mid-descent. “Those cacti will go right through your tennis shoes.” Nodding, I took a few more steps down to the small ledge-like outcropping I’d chosen as my seat. Cross-legged in the desert scrub at night wasn’t the best idea. This perch gave me the luxury of settling my feet.

High on a ridge, overlooking the desert, we settled, breathing in the pure dry air, laced with sand and stillness. Calm. The nightly noises of the desert took over from our chattering minds, busy with unloading the four-wheel drives.

“Okay is…


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Photo by Kitera Dent on Unsplash

Today is the one year anniversary of my reluctant return to the U.S. to get some admin things done. I knew, and the Universal transit system had its own ideas about what I wanted and what would best support me.

“Happy Anniversary!” my housemate greeted me this morning. I smiled and thanked her, while a sobered part of the Observer noted, “A year. A whole year…wasted.” Wow! That is NOT how this feels. That is NOT the truth, though there have been moments of working through the grief cycle of a lifetime of a certain kind.

My physical body has…


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Photo by Ralph Katieb on Unsplash

I re-watched the Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell film this morning, an annual tradition of sorts. It occurred to me, in a way that broadened my grin with every frame, that 2020, and now if we’re honest, has been the replaying of our internal remix, day after day, one day at a time. Over and over until… we get it right? Until we learn to step outside of external controls? Until we surrender the ego? The exit leap will be unique to each of us, it seems.

If the first lockdown wasn’t enough, we’ve had more…If one strain of virus…


Meet the Transition Twins

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Photo by Ralph Mayhew on Unsplash

Sentinels of what is to come,
they await our arrival at the gates of Unfathomable.

Patiently, these galactic guardians witness our pacing,
our bargaining, our traversing and hashing over of what we know as loss.

Embracing the unexpected
though its arrival looms immanent,
we attempt to enter free fall, all anyhow, ready or not.

Unknown and Uncomfortable meet us on the other side.
Stretching a net of discomfort and inconvenience between them,
they catch us out, as we surrender to what hides within.

Surrender to Unknown and Uncomfortable stretches free fall into slow motion, spreading the terror thin, like too…


Prompt: ‘My’ Tools

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Photo by Caterina Berger on Unsplash

I have utilized many sets of practices over the years of this incarnation and others. It is crucial to remember that the tools of one lifetime or decade or moment of transition may or may not serve the alignment of another. Not another as in someone else’s journey, though that is also true. But, the very next moment, the transition upon which we are focused, that is both the NOW and different/other/elsewhere than where we have journeyed in consciousness before. Every moment is NOW and new and requires the application of subtly different energies.

I could report that meditation, mindfulness…


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Photo by Stan B on Unsplash

Does what we love come home to us or as us? What gifts arrive with infinite points of view?

The Christmas angel had smooth, short, slightly brownish hair, painted onto her 4-inch-high china body with discernible brushstrokes. It had just enough smoothness in back to be lightly stroked, a method of self-soothing Betsy learned early on. If she could comfort the angel, or the stuffed animal who had climbed onto the bed or porch with her, what she felt from the world would calm down. She could be herself again.

The angel’s china wings looked sturdy, as did the rest…

Nalini MacNab

I live, learn, write, create and share the experience of embodying HER Infinite Love. https://www.goddessportalsupport.com

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