Monday, July 27, 2015

Suzanne Lie ~ BLOG ENTRY FOR THE JOURNAL #1--By The ONE With Many Names 7-27-15



#1BLOG ENTRY FOR 


THE JOURNAL #1

Dear Readers,
Because of the energy fields that we will soon be entering, I have decided to post my latest book, The Journal. This book is the story of our ordinary people change when they are given extraordinary information. I will post it bit-by-bit among my other posts.

I am writing this book with the instructions that I was to pull together ALL my channelings and put them in order. The story of Beverly, Lisa, and others as the book continues is the narrative that is pulling all this channeled information into a cohesive ONE.

I know that many of you also communicate with your higher expressions, so I invite you to do the same joining of many messages into ONE. It is the NOW to join the ONE, so we are being called on to pull all our individual “puzzle pieces” of information, experiences and people into ONE representative for fifth dimensional Earth.

Hope you enjoy this project, and keep checking for the next edition. I thank Debbie and Pamela in Australia for their editing.

INTRODUCTION
~Lisa Finds the Journal~

~ LISA ~
“I have been trying to contact my Mother for two weeks,” said Lisa to herself as SHE slammed down the phone. She had repeatedly tried to contact her mother, and she had not answered her phone, her emails or her Skype.

“What is she up to now?” Lisa muttered to herself. “I guess I will have to go down there and find out for myself. That means I have to have another confrontation with my husband about my ‘weird’ mother.

“The kids are in school, so I will have to get someone to pick them up and watch them until my husband comes home. What a bother!!” Lisa continued her inner dialogue, or was she actually talking out loud? 

“Why doesn’t she just communicate with me? I know we have not seen eye-to-eye for a while, but a little communication on her end would greatly help our relationship. That is if we even have a relationship,” Lisa said so loudly that she knew she was actually talking to herself.

What else was she to do? She certainly could not get in contact with her mother. Truth be told, she had not tried that hard to contact her until now. Her mother has been talking about so much weird stuff lately that Lisa found herself avoiding contacting her.

Then, when she finally did call, her mother did not answer. In fact, her mother was nowhere to be found. “My husband is going to be so upset about this,” Lisa said to herself. “He has really had it with my ‘crazy mother,’ as he likes to call her.”

Lisa tried for two more days to connect with her mother. Finally, she could wait no longer. She confronted her husband, got the babysitter, and left at 5:00 am for the journey to her mother’s house. She told her husband she would leave then to avoid traffic, but she really wanted to avoid another confrontation with her husband and the many questions from the children.

For the same reason she slept in the guestroom and told her husband is was so that she would not wake him up. Actually, she did not want to “sleep” with him. Sex had been a chore for ages now, and the more she disliked it, the more often he wanted it.

If Lisa could tell herself the truth, which she had been avoiding for a very long time, she was very unhappy in her marriage and needed to talk to her weird, but loving, mother. If Lisa could tell herself the truth, she would have to admit that her best friend was far too close with her husband.

Since she could not even admit that much, she could more easily look past all the obvious signs of her husband’s wandering eye. “No,” Lisa yelled, as she pushed aside the obvious evidence and chose to live the lie. However, four hours of driving alone in a car would make it very difficult to ignore herself.

By the time she arrived at her mother’s house, she was enraged, in tears and so relieved to be in a safe environment. However, it was an empty environment. The house was neat and clean as always, but the plants were gone, the cat was missing and the house felt empty of all life.

No mother, no copious plants, no cat, windows closed and all doors locked. The yard was a bit overgrown, but watered by the sprinklers. The refrigerator was filled with expired food and the bread in the pantry was covered with mold.  Now, Lisa was getting worried.

She had spoken to her Mother so seldom lately, that she did not even know how to contact her mother’s friends. That is if she had any. Truth be told, Lisa was glad when her husband took the job up north and they had to move away. She did not understand her mother at all. Now her mother had disappeared, just when Lisa was finally ready to talk with her.

“How could she just disappear?” yelled Lisa after she had searched every area of the house and yard. The car was in the garage and her mother’s purse with her wallet inside was by her bed which showed no sign of recent occupancy. Perhaps there was a clue in her office, where she shut herself up for hours to meditate or write or whatever she did, thought Lisa as she walked to the back of the house.

Lisa had been embarrassed by her mother’s behavior as a teenager and never brought her friends over. Lisa was more like her father, who had left them because her mother was so odd. Now her mother was causing problems with Lisa’s marriage. Perhaps the answer is in her office, she thought as she went into that room.

When Lisa opened the door to enter the office, she felt a sudden chill. What was that saying, “Like someone had walked over a grave.” “Oh my God,” Lisa said out loud. “What if she isdead?”

Fortunately, there was no dead body and NO mother. The room was neat, much neater than Lisa had seen it in a long time. In fact, her mother’s desk, which was often a mess of papers, was totally clear except for a rather large three-ring folder filled almost to the breaking point.

As Lisa tentatively walked to the desk, she saw an envelope with her name on it taped to the top of the folder. She angrily pulled off the envelope, opened it and began to read her mother’s note.

~ BEVERLY’S JOURNAL~
My dear Lisa, I am so sorry that I was unable to tell you this in person, but there was too much to say and too little time in which to say it. Therefore, I have left this journal, which clearly describes what has been occurring in my life.

I wish that I could have shared it with you, but you have made it very clear that you do not want to hear about my ‘weird’ encounters with what you call ‘the unknown.’ I have tried to tell you that it was never unknown to me, but when I did you became angry.

I know that you have blamed my behavior for your father leaving us when you were only ten, but I did not want him to leave any more than you did. I also know that I was an embarrassment to you when you were a teenager. I am sorry that I was not the person that you needed me to be.

Mostly, I am sorry that I could never find a way to share my experiences with you that did not upset or anger you. I hope that you find this journal in which I recount everything that has been happening in my life in the order in which it occurred. Perhaps, when you read it within your own time, you can begin to understand why I have disappeared in this manner.

Please remember that I love you very much and hope that we can regain our relationship. Please do not run off to phone the police before you read this. After you have read this journal, we may even be able to communicate with each other.
I love you,
Mom

~LISA~
“What,” yelled Lisa. “Do you expect me to read this whole silly journal before I call the police to find out where you are?”

Lisa was so angry that she violently pushed the journal off the table, where it fell to the floor, opening the binder and spilling the pages all over the room. Lisa stood in horror. She finally found a clue as to her mother’s disappearance and she had just scattered it all over the floor. She was so upset that she fell into the nearby chair and sobbed.

Lisa cried the tears that she would not allow when she saw the look in her husband’s eye when her friend came over, or how her “friend” looked toward the ground.  She cried the tears that she had pushed away during her four-hour drive here alone. Then, when she remembered the expression of relief she saw on her husband’s face when she said she needed to leave town, she became almost hysterical.

She needed her mother to talk to NOW. But was she there for her? NO! Again, she was absorbed in her own self and in her own weird whatever she was involved in. How could her mother leave this silly book instead of calling her and talking to her? But that question reminded Lisa that she had not taken a phone call from her mother for quite a while.

She had been “busy” and would call her back, but never did. Lisa told herself that it was because she was fed up with her mother’s ideas. But, the truth was that her mother could always read her mind, and she did not want her mother to tell her what she wasn’t ready to face.

During her four hours driving alone in the car she had “unconsciously” decided to talk to her mother about her marriage. She was even ready to ask for her help. “But NO,” Lisa yelled to the empty room, “I finally am ready to talk to her and Mom is involved in her own self – again!”

Lisa dramatically fell to the floor and sobbed. She cried because her marriage was over, her life was a mess, her mother was missing and she was totally alone. However, being alone was what she really craved. She needed to get out of denial and into the truth. That was the real reason she drove to her mothers.

However, her mother was not there, and had not been there for a while. Maybe she should have answered some of her mother’s phone calls, emails and letters. Maybe she should have just listened to herself, Lisa thought as the tears were spent and she sat on the floor and looked at the papers strewn all over the room.

It took Lisa an hour to collect all the pages, which fortunately were numbered, and put them back into the folder. By then she had calmed down. She went to the kitchen and happily found some coffee, sat down at the kitchen table, where she often did her homework as a child, and began to read the journal.

Part I
Mytria and Jaqual

I
THE JOURNAL
~Beverly’s Secret~

~BEVERLY’S JOURNAL~
I look around my room and see that it is filled with thought forms. This is my meditation room where I write, draw, meditate, and engage in my ongoing search for higher dimensional realities. I have uncovered quite a few higher dimensional lives, as well as some lower dimensional lives that were not very enjoyable.

However, my inner guidance told me to stay with them all, higher and lower until they told me their full story. You see I have been coming to this planet since Gaia asked for assistance during the fall of Atlantis. The darkness had overtaken Her planetary body and Earth was falling off its axis.

Therefore I, and many others, each forced (and I do mean forced) our expanded consciousness into one of the many dying ones at the time of the demise of Atlantis. We volunteered to do so because we had offered to bring our multidimensional light to assist Gaia. Earth did maintain its integrity, barely, but Gaia’s dimensional fall landed in the lower third dimension.

The third dimensional frequency of reality was so deeply polarized that for myriad incarnations most of us, including myself, became lost in the illusions of that lower dimensions of reality. Fortunately, it is the NOW for personal and planetary awakening.

The forces of darkness are quite aware of that fact and trying everything they can to scare us back into subservience. It is for this reason that I am writing this journal. I intend to publish it, or maybe just put it up on the Internet.

I am not sure what the future holds for me, which is why I must take a long look at what I have considered to be my past. You see Gaia is now expanding Her frequency into the higher dimensions from which She has fallen. She has waited as long as She can for humanity. Her elementals are ready, Her plants are ready and Her animals are ready.

However, the very thing that made humanity the most powerful species on the planet is the exact thing that is causing our demise. I wish that I could identify exactly what that “thing” is, but I cannot. Therefore, I am going to combine all that I have learned from as many incarnations and realities that my 3D brain can access.

Of course, I am no longer limited to my 3D brain, as many decades of meditation, prayer and believing my “imagination” have opened my awareness to perceptions beyond my  physical reality. These perceptions have finally brought me to the first real peace I can remember, but they have also isolated me from almost everyone I know.

I hope that someday my daughter may read this journal, which is why I am leaving it on my desk in the office. If anyone cares enough to find out what happed to me, it would be her. The reality is, I am not even sure what happened to me. I know that I am jumping back and forth in time from starting the journal to ending the journal, but that is, indeed, my life.

Since I feel that I am at the ending, though I am not sure what is ending, I need to go back to the beginning, which has to be my childhood. There are myriad realities that surround us in every moment of our day. They can all be entered via the many floating thought forms of which I have spoken.

We have forgotten that our consciousness is the key to open the doorway into any reality that we choose. In fact, most of us forgot that there were myriad realities. As children, these inner realities were acceptable as they were “just our imagination.” But as we became adults, we had to push away those other realities because the physical reality we were living was overwhelming.

Besides, only “crazy” people could see and interact with other realities. Therefore, we forgot that we could choose our reality. We bought the lies we were fed by those who sought to control and possess rather than to love and create.

We tried to control our life so that “they” would not control us. However, control in any manner is a trap, as we cannot control and surrender at the same time. Control is the mechanism of the third dimension, whereas surrender opens the pathway into the higher worlds.

Therefore, by controlling our lives, we see only third dimensional options and solutions for our third dimensional situations. These options were not enough for me, but I am getting out of sequence again. I need to go back to the beginning, my childhood, and write this journal in some form of time-bound sequence, or no one will understand it.

~LISA~
“You are so right Mom,” cried Lisa. “Already I don’t understand you. And where the heck are you?” yelled Lisa not meaning to shout. “I drove four hours down here to talk to you in person and what I get is a journal. My kids are with their father, who can only take my absence for so long. Besides he will run out of all the food I left them.

“Where are you? I had a huge fight with my husband to come down her and had to go into my savings to get help for the kids. How could you be so selfish? I know we were close when I was young, being an only child and all. However, as soon as I stopped believing in all your weirdo stuff, we started growing apart.”

Lisa was very angry, but there was a bit of fear in her voice as well. Unconsciously recognizing the fear, Lisa went back to her reading in hopes of finding a clue about her mother. She took a few more sips of coffee and returned to her reading.

~BEVERLY’S JOURNAL~
You might say that I was a very imaginative child. In fact, I lived in my imagination so much that sometimes I got confused about what world was the real world. That is when I saw the floating thoughtforms. I did not know that they were thoughtforms. To my childhood reality, these moments of communicating with another reality was more real than my daily life.

In my daily life I was just a normal kid who was not too smart, too pretty, too clever or too anything. But when unseen portals inside my mind suddenly, or slowly, opened I was no longer a child. I was a Native American riding across the planes on a pinto pony. I was a young boy crossing America in a covered wagon. I was a Priestess in a far off place called Atlantis, or a young man navigating a spaceship.

All these thoughtforms floated around me. All I needed to “do” to enter a thoughtformwas to allow my thoughts and feelings to flow into that world by feeling the emotions of that “me” and thinking the thoughts of “that” me. Of course, as a child I did not know it was a thoughtform. In fact, I had no idea what “IT” was, but as a child I did not care.

In fact, it felt like if I told anyone about what I was experiencing that my secret portal would close and I would be “cast adrift on a hostile planet.” I know that statement sounds extreme, but it was exactly how I felt. If they ever talked about therapy at that time, I would have been there. That is, of course, if I ever told anyone about my secret life, which I never did.

Fortunately, there was this flowing, cloud presence that was always with me when I entered these worlds that told me not to tell anyone about what I was doing. The sparkling cloud being was too big to be a thoughtform and it felt different. This presence was not like the thoughtform that became a portal if I opened and entered it. I did not enter the floating cloud being, but it did enter me.

When the floating being entered me I felt so very wonderful, pure, honest, invincible and secure. But, it did not enter me very often. It usually just guided me and helped me to enter, what it called the “thoughtforms.” My cloud friend was the one who taught me that if I could believe and go into that thought form these thought forms they would become portals to other worlds.

All that “imagination” and floating friends was fine when I was a child, but when I was a teenager I began to change. I no longer wanted to play with my floating friend and enter the wonderful portals that it presented to me as thoughtforms. I was becoming a woman and needed a boyfriend to prove it. And so, my floating friend was put aside, like an old doll I had loved as a child.

I was too old for all that imagination stuff. So, I stopped attending to the floating thoughtforms and ignored my cloud friend. After all, they were only for children, and I was growing up. That is exactly when I became VERY depressed! That depression followed me for many years of my life.

I forgot about floating thoughtforms and, too often, I forgot about my cloud friend. I was becoming an adult and had to behave accordingly. But enough of becoming an adult; I have said I would begin with my childhood, and so I will.

~LISA~
Lisa closed the Journal in a state of mind that she could not identify. She wanted to be angry, but instead she felt sad. Yes, it was her Mother’s life that made her sad. Her life was fine, in fact it was happy. The only problem was that she had to come all the way down here to find out where her wacky mother was.

Well, maybe her mother wasn’t too wacky. Maybe she just thought that because she was so angry with her for not being there. In fact, for not being there too many times when she needed someone to talk to. But, with that thought Lisa began to realize that she had not talked to her mother in a long time.

“Too much thinking on an empty stomach and no sleep,” Lisa said to herself. She should call her husband and tell him that she got here safe, but she didn’t. She did not want to think about why she didn’t call him, but she did call her friend who the kids were staying with. Her husband was likely at work or somewhere Lisa lied to her self.

She pushed the journal aside and walked into the kitchen to find some food. She did NOT want to continue with that line of thought. She found some food in the freezer, which was OK and made more coffee. However, after she finally ate, even the coffee could not keep her awake.

Therefore, Lisa went over to the couch to just lie down for “just a few minutes.” She woke up hours later. “Wow, what a dream,” she said to herself when she awoke. Fortunately, she soon forgot it.

Lisa took a long bath in her mother’s huge tub then got dressed to go to a restaurant for a decent meal. She was about to step out the door when she went back into her mother’s office and got the journal. After all, it is cozy to read something while you eat at a restaurant.

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