09 June 2014

Engage Your Inner Authenticity ~ Pleiadian Renegades via Maryann Rada ~ 8 June 2014


We have a lot to say to you today, so sit in a good spot to get the most enjoyment in this moment that we share together. We love these times where your consciousness engages with our communications, and the thoughts that live in the space between the here and there generate realities of potential where, for the most part, you welcome yourselves into a future of empowerment and harmonic inter-awareness. By extending your ability to comprehend the impulses that take the form of words, it may be necessary to come face-to-face with the sentries of belief that safeguard the inner sanctum of your mind.

In such a case, remember, there is nothing to fear and everything to celebrate, for you are in that encounter meeting an opportunity to rebuild your framework of understanding and, in a sense, polish the lens through which the light of knowingness shines from within the heart of all. Such guardians of the mind are constructs of protection, yet if you have no need of safety in a singularity of knowing yourself as love incarnate, they are without a purpose and can retire in peace to the land of outworn modalities, there to dissolve in the reverberations of “job well done.” So, if such a chance encounter pops up in the course of contemplating our message, be assured it is with all due respect that we say, do the thing that leads to greater understanding, notwithstanding the old beliefs that served a limited interface of times gone by. Be bold, dear ones, and let your truth reveal itself in greater brilliance to you.

One day, in the deep shadows of a cryptically quiet forest, dwelt a little man in a cottage he had fashioned out of the twisted branches he had found in abundance near the banks of a stream. Long, long ago had he labored to weave together the intricacies of nature’s growth into sturdy walls and roof to give himself a quiet place amid the quiet outside. A place to think it was, and a place from which the revelations of light periodically could be gleaned from where the sun pierced the open spaces in the walls where the branches didn’t quite fit together. He loved his little cottage and found it to be comfortable enough even in the storms that blew through with increasing regularity. Though the winds would shake the very roots of the cottage, he believed the foundations of the place were strong enough to hold his little though-space intact.

Little did he know that on the horizon, a storm was brewing that would shake the forest itself to its core, and when in thundering suddenness it struck, he found himself surrounded by a pile of sticks with a very few pillars and joists still maintaining their vigilance in being the framework they had been set to be. As the sky cleared and the immensity of the storm began to become apparent all around him, he furiously began to gather what sticks remained and piece them together into some semblance of the structure they had been before. It was no use, he realized, and as he dropped to the ground, exhausted and bewildered, the remaining particles of his home crashed around him in a cloud of dust.

So he sat and contemplated in a puddle of sticks and sunlight, for the winds in their fury had stripped the forest of its canopy of leaves and now the light from above was streaming through unhindered. As the warmth of the sun’s rays penetrated his bent and bowed neck, some part of his inner-ness began to relax. There was little he could do but receive the light. There was nowhere else to go.

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