Starstream Dream

Yesterday was the oddest day. Neither bad nor good, not ugly or snuggly, the day was just a day. My body was assimilating something. One could say that the almost non-existent veils paled enough to be clearly seen. My vision showed me fractures in every direction. The fine lines of exquisite geometric patterns laced the world through and around me. When closely observed, each vanished into the whole. Waveforms only, I supposed. “This, too, shall pass” tends to be my motto with visual phenomena.

The full body perception of this was as living in a plastic bubble must be. When I was a tween, I envied that kid. Everyone else felt sorry for the poor, life-deprived boy who couldn’t interact physically with the world due to autoimmune deficiencies. I didn’t think about what it would be like to never climb a tree, swim, walk in the woods, wade in the creek, or ride a horse. I thought he was lucky. Good fences make good neighbors and all that. I hadn’t yet realized my acquiescence into the fear-based reality-creations of others.

I used to wonder what people saw when they would say something about me. Where were they seeing that? It wasn’t me. And then I realized I had become accustomed to projecting my mother’s reality around me like some weird factory-setting default. And it was. As most of us do, I took her world-view for granted, even though I did not agree.

I had not bought into most of ‘that’ for ages. And yet, my field operated as though it was hers. Well, that was awful. So began the dismantling process. That was more than half a lifetime ago now. I have felt filter after filter, wave after wave of those versions of reality, re-absorb into my core, and disappear. Nothing teaches us more quickly than life’s reflections. Those alterations were a bit obvious. This was far more subtle.

Yesterday’s reflections seemed to be a mosaic of bits of projected images for ‘sky,’ not the whole of it but sectioned fractals, or ‘tree,’ wherein every leaf stood out clearly and distinctly, and yet, the tree or trees were sectioned by fine lines of light, like the threads of a rutilated quartz crystal. No, I had not ingested anything hallucinogenic or mood-altering. This was a new kind of functional. I had never before seen my learning bubble in this way.

I took a seat in the garden in that lovely golden late afternoon light that always heralds Autumn. As I looked up at the sky, I could see each section of whatever-it-was so clearly. I reached up a hand and folded one piece toward me as though the reality construct was origami. I half expected to see star fields behind it. But, no. there was only more sunlit sky. I folded a few more fractals, just for fun, then pushed them back into their original places, not sure if I ought to disturb them. The glowing lines shone brightly, but I had yet to understand what I was seeing. The movements to fold in various corners had been instinctual, but still, I hesitated. Non-interference is good.

Early this morning, I woke from a dream. I was in an office of some kind, working with a computer system that penetrated realities. The lens I looked through was only wide enough for my vision and no one else’s. The screen was hidden beneath my desktop in an unusually inaccessible place. In that capsule reality, I watched as the edges of my view-screen folded into a two-dimensional pentagonal shape, which then rendered into a multi-dimensional starseed merkhaba, with twelve points. Each point had five faces, lit up like prisms. And, from the center of that form, ‘I’ looked back at myself. “Oh!” The realization came without words.

I woke from the dream with the crystalline structure gleaming around me. Meditation yielded fresh perspectives but few words. Probably just as well. When our old images shatter we don’t need interim falsities to replace them.

As we move through the Eclipse Cauldron and our realities melt, why not dream a star-seeded reality? Why not pay attention to, and play with, the available light? Is this not what Starstreams are here to create and to be?

Intensity can be a gift. I choose to let it be.

Enjoy the week!