Magic Hour mashes-up my perspective. I stare out the window as the sky turns lavender over Ground Zero’s gigantic cranes. It’s a time of awesome yearning and melancholy. I can feel the imprint of the stargate—the opening that took place on that sacred site. Something continues to resonate from deep within—something continues to be spoken, gentle whispers haunt the air. My heart goes out to the ghosts. This could have been you, they tell me, looking quaint in their early autumn office clothes from a decade ago. I feel my oneness with the scene as it begins to switch. Helicopters dart back and forth between the high-rises. The flame colored sun expands across the waterfront and gets sucked into the the black glass of the Millenium Hotel obelisk. Thoughts of apes and evolution and a red beam stare flash like frames spliced into the reels of my mind. The ringing in my right ear raises its pitch. Time seems to slow down.
This is when they talk to me—this is the space of The Download…when information comes in clear sentences…in the coded tapping of a giant brain, just like in a Wrinkle in Time. An intergalactic intelligence—neither human or inhuman—neither alive nor dead.
Cold and impersonal—not how we’ve wanted to imagine God….
There is no new message this time except to reconfirm via vibe that we are nearly there and it is nearly here. It won’t be long now. And by that I mean that the tide is coming back in, the circle has revolved, the cycle is nearly complete.
We are coming apart at the seams—but it’s not a failing…we are falling together, spiraling like strands of DNA. It’s what we’ve been evolving towards all along. In fact All of our inventions, all of our great ideas and progress—the medicine and the technology and the missiles and the bombs—all of it has been summoned forth by the ever approaching object, the one Terence McKenna refers to as the Transcendental Object at the end of time.
The first download I recognized as such (being no longer given a choice) is still the one I return to over and over. I think of it as my mission statement. A conversation with the boss—the shadow of outstretched wings falling over the prairie.
“You are to help them not to be afraid.”
