Phase 3: The Return

Words. 

Words before transmission were pivotal to my journey down the rabbit hole. 
I wrote and read vigorously.
I was ravenously seeking answers and diligently taking notes of the shifts, the breakthroughs, the setbacks, and the unnerving questions.

Afterwards, words were the hardest. I was silent for a long time and wrote intermittently post transmission. Words were difficult because, words, communication in general, interfered with experience post transmission. It's a very subtle un-invasive knowing. Trying to conceptualize it only diluted direct experience. The nature of our language is to name, categorize, distinguish one from another. Post-transmission, I found greater understanding in perceiving directly without naming, the mere thought of categorizing felt to devolve my perception rather than aid it. 

I wanted to communicate it, but I wanted to experience it more than understand it. Most attempts to share it only cemented its subtlety, which I admit was slightly disappointing. I could see but there was no way to help others automatically see past themselves. Despite, I felt a faith of sorts in the path that unraveled. The shift in perception was better explored without direction. I trusted the map would come with time. 

In the dismantling phase, before transmission, you work hard at deconstructing the notions that get in the way. Why the work is an essential phase becomes clear post transmission. Every rock overturned nurtures the notion that nothing is as it seems. That is the only lead you have. Its the one that took me the farthest and allows me to sink in the deepest. Its quite serendipitous pair is willingness. Your willingness to journey inward is what drives the whole thing. It is what revs up the cosmic engine and puts, you, the vehicle, in drive. 

Relearning to express myself regarding the journey took time. I have developed a pet peeve for meta words, especially those that specifically attempt to point to post transmission as a place where all is discovered or nothing is embodied.  

You see, my calling was to continue on with life post transmission under some kind presumed normal. I wanted to pick up on the subtle differences in perception. I wanted to live and survive the daily struggle, see the ins and outs of our daily lives with new eyes.  We've kept the understanding masked in heady writing, in so-called sacred spaces, books, and rituals.  Having been a victim of the abuse of power that arises when putting spirituality on a silver platter reserved for a deserving minority before transmission, I needed to be sure not to promote the elitist attitudes that accompany a post-transmission communicator, or worse, those who pretend to see in the name of some kind of personal gain. 

I readily admit to having moments of doubt and regret, especially when the dread and drudgery of my life got the best of me. But, a hope that every disappointment lived was not merely my own, and that the greatest pains had a purpose lingered and it has powered me through some tough traumas and bad choices.  

Yes folks, life still gets the best of me. I am not in some nirvana bubble untouchable or un-feelable.
Quite the opposite, the first years post transmission were downright crippling. The anniversary still stirs me, I relive it again and again. Living a life afflicted with the social issues of our times coupled with the internal shifts that are a part of the daily experience of an internal path has been incredibly difficult. I could only face one phase at a time. 

Relearning to live, choosing what to keep plus dealing with the lefover trauma and wounds from my life pre-transmission took a decade to sort through, and I'd be foolish to imply my work is done. 

I have dismantled, processed, and adjusted enough to have something to say. All I ask is you remember I am only playing my part in a play I don't know the whole story to. Just a puppet aware of the strings. A flicker on the screen conscious of being a flicker. A little light in a large dark place.