An ongoing monologue

Aloha. Allow me orient you.

My intention in this evolving monologue is to convey my experience as a multidimensional human being. It is to speak future in the present experience unfolding. The “I” exists in many here’s and many when’s, a tapestry of complexity in awareness. This is not fiction or fantasy. This is a genre-less or multi-genre orientation. For some, this may read as fiction, but I assure you, this is my experience in and through my embodiment. It is a poetic streaming, a re-membering, a flowing from direct experience and the imaginal. Vague becomes clear as you read. I invite you to open your mind and feel into the words, let them carry you along. There are pauses in the text called Open Attention. This is a somatic element from Continuum, a pause to allow for feeling into and integrating what has been offered. Some of my context is through the deep indigenous culture of Mu, some of other epochs. The text moves in time as I do. We are in sacred linear time but not of it. Perhaps you are in a similar orientation in your experience......

Mahalo for your presence, attention and breath

~~ Sabine Mead

I live in deep time, long time, a tentacle extending through a crack in time, from a universe made and unmade before this one.

In those thens, my forms were thin.

Lucent skin, a pulsing mesh, soft bluish emanations varying as the voltage of emotions amplified over aeons. So much current to weave through water. Waters that gradually thickened, a necessary viscosity for conducting the charge of immense candescence.

The One before this One was deeper dark, a vastening of light and water, a universe of aurora ever bursting into being.

Those skies held clouds of wet mist over crystalline tissue worlds with stones glowing in radiant light, barely contained.

Touch was insubstantial, undifferentiated, a hue, a fold in refulgent pattern.

Light and sound reverberated in woven bands and arcs, bending space into sweeping spirals, carving out spheres.

All forms moved infinitely slow.

The Song was lingering, suspended in tone, extending along the currents, the tributaries of space that water carved through. Along these currents, voltage rippled, a dragon of fire blazing in flight in fathoms of dark.

That was the gift we came through with. Voltage. Electricity.

Light in water generates emotion. Emotion fuels energy to create, to Be and ultimately, Love.

Now is the field of Love in the making, in the manifesting. Contrast accentuates, friction refines.

The wings of Love approach, a ripple through the field. All is quaking withits immanent presence.

The trough of the great wave hovers in chaos, twisted coils of incoherence pulling stagnation free. As it rises, so much momentum is needed to carry it forward; the undertow of extinction, the loss of balance forfeited for future resonance.

Destabilize in order to move, be free of constraints.

We ride these intervals, waves of increasing intensity that bend perception, a necessary turbulence to overcome amnesia.

I am remembering.

The El-e-mentals are activated, amplified by sky forces, plasma codes raining down from Deeptime.

Here, this spherical being molts and sheds, rebirth nearing. We carry electricity into fullness, restore the integrity of true feeling.

Love seeking its alignment as this Universal truth, centered in consciousness, in Us.

Each day I experience profound sensations of implosion and then resurrection.

Solve et Coagula at planck speed.

Light infuses more deeply than ever. The waters of us must move, must receive.

Now it is all about conduction.

The voltage of Love is unspeakable, un-nameable, unknowable, a metacontext not yet manifest, but close.

I feel the weaving in my cells at night, light in song, bubbling in the weft of bone and fascia.

Zephyr soft over the fell of my skin, more space opening.

I am becoming something else.....I must let go all the way through the enduring grace of my twice helixed memories into the abyss of essence.

I am all myselves now, a paper doll folding back into One. Melodies converge, symbols clash, rending the fabric in quivering pulsations.

No where or when to go to. No escape or refuge. No need in waters this subterranean.

We must all be remade in the waters of Love.

..........OPEN ATTENTION...........

Chapter One ~ there is only One Chapter.

This is not fiction.
Please un-classify, de-categorize, do not place me anywhere or anywhen.

I have moved beyond those limitations now. We all have, but we don’t all know it yet.

This will take some time. Many will fall away for the vigor of this initiation.

Re-membrance pulls on us, a demanding incessancy, stretching the essence across membranes, boundaries.


She warned us, tried to get us to listen, but the fear was too great and now the waves come faster, more insistent, more compelling.

At the peaks the expanse is unraveling, brilliant, a rippling river of time unfolding. The troughs squeeze and compress, drowning us in floods of memory too vast to process, experience washed clean.

Just open up and let it all go. I don’t need to know who I am, not really.

............OPEN ATTENTION..........

After this many cycles and the ongoing array of images flashing,

synchronicities pulsing in quickening pace, the family returns, showing up in perfect timing.

Now, it’s all about trust.
Trusting myself to trust this process.

The making/unmaking.

The uptick in the plasma currents revving the voltage for this leap of faith, this full throttle transmutation. We approach the integration point, alpha/omega, only to be jettisoned in Universe-gasm, sent spinning through the spherical vortex.

We are so many in one.

Tessean beckons and I follow her. She was there at the beginning, the initial weaving. She holds the dream inside her, the whole blueprint of this realm. Now she waits in the future streaming, singing us all onward. She and many others.

The song is getting louder, a frequency we can feel and almost......almost hear.

Close, so close.

As difficult as this is for the body, it is much more so for the mind. Our consciousness is habituated towards compression from all previous programming, conditioning, entrainment. We are coded for fear response, a body lockdown and a mind freeze, easy to overwhelm. Now the fear barrage is constant, a flood of terror, daily waves of uncertainty, complexity, entanglement.

The only way through is expansion, opening wider, fuller, resting inside the depths of breath, that long wave into the heart void.

From here I can see all the way inside, through the tangle of time and experiments to Source.

Here, I have leverage, scope, perspective. All for the greater Aloha Ma.

All in for the ride of our eternal lifetimes through the flames of Love, the sanctification of a world.

.......OPEN ATTENTION.........

No point in tracking time as it warps and bends in this gamma ray effulgence.

A day has a shape, a contour, each one as specific and unique as any other.

The nights arc over us, sweeping away the solar vividness of that which we must face, offering those of us desperate for sleep a pause, a possibility of

rest, a moment of emptiness.

We are in the impossibility of doing exactly what we must, not knowing what that is until we do.

That’s the trust.

After accumulation, the dispersal. After the filling to overflow, the draining, the release.

After the This is Me, the This is Not Me. Initiation en masse.

I lay on the floor and breathe. I have been de-densifying for lifetimes upon lifetimes, singing sacred tones, receiving the divine undulate through my body waters.

Now, the eyes of me open and blink through skin, through bone, through crown.

I am the waters in all times, in all places, the eyes of Creation.

Coherence has a layered order.
I consent, show up, contribute.
I am always home and I am home here.


My cells radiate light, quiver and oscillate the song. I feel the field humming.......the song of making beginning as the song of unmaking thrashes and screams.

All I know....I am in it.

With it all.

With you, with us all.

We sing, we move the prayers.

                                                                     And Love is the Flower from the seed of our Dream.

...........OPEN ATTENTION..........

Another uptick.

Suffering comes from resistance and there is much resistance now.

The Self digs in and holds ground. The attachments too precious for a mind on the surface.

We are being pressurized by larger forces of evolution to keep the experiments moving along towards completion.

What can possibly come after Love? Imagine that!!!

This is how we get there, one at a time.

Free will is expensive, the consequences are high and yet......the beauty is well beyond our ideas.

Love is voltage, perfected.

............OPEN ATTENTION...........

Memories of the sun in warmer yellow days, enfingering the land with ignition, touching the mineral potentials seeping in waters embrace.

The seeds arrived as tiny worlds of greatness waiting to manifest in this el-e-mental menagerie.

Oh, the contributions were immense! Our humility for such gifts lost in appetite, greed, insatiability, speed.

Grief overwhelms the fortress of denial as the cracks widen into fissures, split along the faults as remembrance pours through in gushing surges.

I remember the beauty, the exquisite colors, the sinuous and vermiculate earth body rising up and out of waters of Love.

                                                   Massively tall peaks soaring unbidden skyward, reaching for ancestors, for stars, for crystalline space.

Pools of pristine water resting as eyes in the land, the dragon eyes gazing for the first time into phenomenal realms.

What it is to See....

Water holds the mystery of vision, the patterns of infinite reflection and wholeness. A planet with water is an eye, is many, many eyes, always open.

Eyes penetrate the deeper body, seeing becomes holographic. I see without and within. So many eyes.

Everything is dancing now, oscillating ever faster towards crescendo.

                                                                                             The Aria begins but no one is singing.

                       We must sing and we must pray.

                                                                                  .........OPEN ATTENTION.........

Original template.

Under the systems, the codified, the linear overlays.

We were given the instructions to make Meaning. Only, the meaning made us selfish, an unforeseen result leading to attachment.

Meaning engenders holiness, reverence, but in the vector of attachment, leads inevitably towards greed.

And so it is.

                                                                                          Attachment is profane.

This is what a world looks like when attachment amplifies, buds into possessiveness, flowers into greed.

The Garden is corrupt. It has been bought and sold into owning. Now we face what we have allowed ourselves to become.

This takes the deepest kind of courage, a humility, a single focused, redemptive pilgrimage through the twisted soulscape of distortion.

Systems only go so far and then they too must be sacrificed for the sanctuary of an unbound heart.

The path to original template is an unburdening of so much trial and error, a blazing of self-mercy.

The decisions we made to act, the decisions we made not to act, what decisions we are making right now.

What we have done to others. What others have done to us.

Here we are caught in these circles, these wheels, this endless spinning, dervish into blur.

                                                                             At this speed we find the piko, the core of the vortex.

Here, we rise, buoyant and free, grateful tears pouring heavy rainfall in the awareness of all we have experienced, known, learned.

                                                              Evolution is a razor consciousness quest, honing the blade of infinite essence.

          Gratitude is the balm and balance point for the wicked fear of being wiped clean back to original code. Zero-point, ground zero. Equilibrium. Homeostasis.

Grateful for every sensation, every small perception, every insight.

                                                                                      Grateful for every true and real gesture of Love.

........OPEN ATTENTION........

Tessean is SvaAthian. Ana Wai Nu and I as well. We all locate in different timespheres; Tessean in the farther future, speaking linearly, and Ana Wai Nu in the long ancient past of Kahalewai.

Now, Tessean’s song is strong, pulling us all toward her future.

Ana Wai Nu restores my memories daily, long strands of unmeasured days in the early conception of humanity.

Ma was in the making of us, teaching us her songs, our purpose in abiding, how to create in a phenomenal realm.

The organic was folded in, layer by layer, each generation a carefully tended code in the weaving of Love.

                                                                      Ana Wai Nu returns me over and over to a small pool of pristine water high up on Kahalewai.

It is at the base of a vertical cliff soaring above me into clouds, at the edge of a forested ridge overlooking the expanse of sea.

It is so high up, higher than any peak I know in this time, yet it is warm with the plenum of Mea’Ne’e, the plasmic beings. Far below, SvaAthians swim in their resplendent songs, igniting the voltage of life birthing.

Up here, I immerse in the pool, the waters of remembrance. I relearn all I have forgotten, displaced, misunderstood.

It is arduous, this remembering, this resurrection and correction.

So many whispers and visions of other lifelines, other timespheres of suffering and harming, loss and subordination, loneliness, torture, betrayal.

Some lived and living in such reverence and beauty, wildly ecstatic under a star strewn fathomless dark, my long golden feet stepping down into river Nile to offer blessing to a tall robed woman on the shore.

                                                                                         In many, in most, I sing the waters.

It is my SvaAthian soul in countless forms gathering the gifts of experience.

                                                                                                ............OPEN ATTENTION..........

We are not what we think we are, nor what we were told we were.

True indigenosity ripped clean from the waters of me, my blood, the deepest unmooring.

My ancestors, the dead, stagger around me, looking for home, feet touching the earth but not feeling her. They moan in anguish, in loss.

Most are silent, numb, exhausted from reaching for a land lost, for a community dismembered, for the songs of the land and the stars they once knew.

                                      I am remembering for them, all of them.

They sit with me as I remember, it is a collective endeavor.

They see my piko strings, aqua blue tentacles of light coiling out through many realms, spiraling currents, a direct line to our far distant star origins.

I take them to the waters of SvaAthia so they can hear the songs, submerge in the embryonic waters of a world of Makers.

                                                                                     I take them to the Falls of Life, Holy of Holies.

There, the awe of the Mystery hums and surrounds, incomprehension overwhelms into rapture, into bliss.

Restoring links, making new connections.

I am the prayers and I am the song.

                                                                                   Pa Wale Pu’uwai. I open my heart wider. There is no end.


                                                                                             ........OPEN ATTENTION........

Suspension is the essence of plasma.

We are in a state of suspension as the old implodes and the revolution rumbles, the new paradigm crowning head first, moments away from first breath.

Suspended, as new codes rain down from solar activations, gammas from Galatic center piercing the soft tissue ovum of Ma.

Evolution demands mutation, demands instability.

We witness the beauty, we are the beauty of creation creating, the sacred making and unmaking. This suspension gives us a different perspective of time because we are no longer where we were and also because we are no longer when we were.

                                                                                                  Time is personal.

Suspension is the space between, the unmeasured moment,  freedom any overlay, a complete arrival in continuous presence, a return to quality.

The purpose of suspension – to lift, to rise, to......levitate.

                                                                                         Suspension is the art of becoming Luminous.

This is a revolution of Luminosity.


                                                                                              ..........OPEN ATTENTION........

I am spinning. Always. Spinning at every fractal layer, infinitesimal to Universal, spinning on and on and out and in, spinning.

Tessean spins with me in her spiral and mine, Ana Wai Nu too.

........OPEN ATTENTION.......

A compression, the deep tissue squeezing out of toxic waters, memories surfacing like bubbles, popping to release their images and then drifting into mist, vapor....dispersal.

How have we managed to hold so much inside?

How long has it been since we felt the softness of true safety permeate every cell?

Menobius said she had a PHD in hypervigilance. I look out into the world and see nations of PHD’s with hypervigilance.

The only antidote I know is a full-bodied recognition in each moment, breath by breath, that I am well and truly safe. Ma reminds me as I lay down in her sweet grasses, on her granite boulders with my toes in her moving waters.

The sun reaches her plasma filled flame all the way from her heart to mine and I am warmed in her brilliant white light.

                                                                                              I am here. I am safe.

In this moment and into the next, presence blooming as this phenomenal body in the phenomenal world.

                                                                                         We are all breaking, broken.

Our sense of the world is breaking as we open our hearts wider and perceive the brokenness of this world.

Turn and face it. That is what the compression, the contraction asks of us. Look. See. Feel. Listen.

Knowing is a flimsy thing now, so insubstantial, so flatly objective.

As we thaw the rigid contours of our denial, of our scientific, academic rationality, as we DROP all that mentalizing - the need to know, the need to control - we plummet into the saline pool of our primordial heart, the beat of our very being.
Oh, to feel the many emotions swirling in eddies.

This global warming is to melt the ice of our hearts, to awaken the resonance of the songs of the dead.

I reach my arms behind my back, gather in every last one of my ancestors longing for the love they never received, could not allow themselves to receive, and I sweep them, pull them from some liminal place, a space between.

I enfold them and gather them all in front of me, open my heart as wide as the sky and bring them in and through.

           Now, they float on their backs, eyes lifted to skies filled with the pink-orange clouds of sunset or dawn, spines loose and free in the pool of my heart.

......OPEN ATTENTION.......

Today the Angels came while I lay meditating in the bath. Their long fingers swiftly reaching into me, plucking out debris, reorganizing organs. Their sweet breath caressed the soft tissues of my viscera, their lips ever so tenderly kissing my heart.

Tears, mine. So ultra-motherly,

To be loved so. To receive that love.

Imagination? Magic? Fantasy? My experience is my truth.

I innerstand.

Meanwhile, people, beloveds, suffer around me. Illness, dying, depression, despair.

The initiation is a maelstrom spinning us deeper into waters far below. Waters we have not bothered to swim in for the impatience to get somewhere, get something, get on with it. Get to the next......

Now we are sucked in, a straw sipping us down the last loud bubbling froth of our favorite distraction, spitting us out in the stark truth of consequence.

                                                                                                                      Here We Are.


                                                                                                              ............OPEN ATTENTION........

We come to be closer.

To touch, to interact.
The vastness of space unfathomable, we come to connect, to love

                                                                                                                    .........OPEN ATTENTION........

My eyes close and sight opens inside. I see each tiny vortex spinning, a milky way wonder, my universe inside.

This spinning, the movement. Everything spins with the breath of creation, force and counterforce, the friction of two becoming one.

The center space, a void, but a void that sees, that perceives.

I feel this in every atom, deep into the liquid crystalline matrix, the stillness reaching for movement.

                                                                                                                  The space between.

Premanifest, the unmade making into the made. Liminal. That space, that place is joy.

True presence in fullest expression.

Resting awareness there, right there, in the center of the spin, the inner eyes. Not just one but so many, beyond measurement, beyond mind.

Joy is gateway to Love as Beauty is gateway to Love - Love as culmination of all possible expressions.

                                                                                                        I have lived it all and arrived at Love.

                                                                                                                 .........OPEN ATTENTION.........

©Sabine Mead 2023 ~ current, to be continued