Feeling this distance from any notion of past lives lately has been a mixed blessing.
On the one hand, living as if my entire existence began in the summer of 1984 and that this whole thing is behind me and part of my experiences now has been refreshingly normal.
But the truth is it’s not all behind me. Right now it’s not barking at my heels like it does sometimes, but it’s always there. Sometimes, it just feels far enough away I can ignore it.
And in those times when I can ignore it, there’s a rather unpleasant effect: I feel completely at odds with anything spiritual. It was as if my awareness of the heavenly diminished with my awareness of the infernal.
Even when I can intellectually grasp these ideas, like some thoughts I had about the mathematical proof of infinity supporting the notion that the finite universe has an infinite substrate, I don’t feel at all connected to that notion. I feel a distance from that sense of the infinite, from the thought that maybe one day we’ll be liberated from this mess and rejoin the light, and it’s such a cold and lonely feeling.
I’ve seen the thumbrint of God, knew the truth of Their works. I’ve seen the vision of the fiery pillar that burned with love and felt the awesome presence of the light beyond light. Where is that presence now? I feel stranded in a foreign land, trapped in the bondage of Molech.