Holy mother plays my hand

“Write.”, she says. As I feel her cool, deadly, desperate, and compassionate blade at my throat. So, I write. I am not afraid of violence anymore. Sometimes violence is loving. Sometimes it is the only way we will align with the blue-print of our soul, of our integrity. Sometimes it is the only way we reveal our signature.

She is earth-woman, earth-mother, mother-earth, gaia, earth-spirit, holy spirit, heaven on earth, wild woman, divine feminine, the receiver, the nurturer, the life giver as we know it. There is no one name. Names are a human thing, for our benefit and better when they’re not over ladened.

She is grateful we are here. She has told me this before, she tells me again. Point number one to your kind. Not to be confused with grateful we “do”, she is grateful that our souls, our etheric, eternal light selves heard her call and came to visit, once again. Many of us come in this era firstly to be of service to her. The “service” is in our contract we signed upon entry (to this life). We didn’t say we would do x,y,z but we did agree to align ourselves with integrity, truth, sacrifice, honour, and love, and our deeds flow from this commitment (mishaps not withstanding). So many of us are here, not firstly for our soul evolution, but because she called and we answered with our intergalactic hearts.

“You’re thinking too hard”, she says. “This is not an exercise in perfection and I care not for your vanity. Just write. You will get better at listening to me. Then your writing will get better” The tightening in my throat might be her sword or it might be the choking of the chimney as human mind gets in the way. So, I write. I write because the flood gates of my heart are open. I write because the door to suicide is part of my life. But (don’t worry) it is securely blocked by my children. I’m pretty sure that their soul contracts contain the item “don’t let your mother kill herself.” My choices seem stark sometimes; “do exactly what I say, or wish you were not on this planet anymore”. As Mr Bennet might say, “An unhappy alternative is before you, Lizzy”. So, I am learning to go with option A. When I get over the ego bit, it is usually quite pleasant in its own way.

She is grateful we are here. We are light bearers, like vents connected to her core of light and heavenly, divine, universal God consciousness. We allow the communication, the communion, the joining and exchange of energy between her and the One Big God, if you will. You could think of us as a gas appliance, allowing a regulated flow of gas which is set fire to with our “divine spark”, that we may illuminate the surface of the earth, the human realm, the space between mother and father.

Enough said for tonight. I feel the release of my duty for a time. This may seem theatrical, because it is a little. Although my choice really is as stark as life and death, when I decide to play, it gets playful. “Surf the wave or drown!!! There, isn’t that fun”. Well, it is rather, when ego dies for today.