Weaving the Chords of Presence

It always amazes me how clarity begins to emerge when I pay attention. Threads of what I have been hearing, feeling, and experiencing begin to weave together. When I remain open to possibilities, something arrives that helps me understand what I could not quite see before.

Yesterday, I shared a realization about my names. My spiritual names are meaningful parts of who I am, and I no longer wish to keep them in the shadows. Yet I also began to see that, in trying to protect the person who carries my birth name, I had kept a separation between my human identity and my spiritual expression. I was ready to allow them to belong together.

After I chose to write about this and began including my birth name in my writing, further understanding began to unfold. I could see how that separation had made it harder for me to feel fully grounded in the Presence I seek to embody. Embodiment is a process. Through the Digging Deeper and Gateways writings, I have been learning what it means to live the energies of Being in this human life.

My Protector had been trying to keep me safe. It told me that I did not need to share my name because keeping myself separate from the message would help people focus on the words. There is value in letting a message stand on its own. Yet, for me, that explanation had also become a place to hide. I could honor the message while acknowledging the person through whom it was being shared.

What I am coming to understand is that this particular life, this body, and this human identity belong within my spiritual expression. They are part of how I bring it into the world.

For some time, I have felt nudged toward becoming more visible. Writing and blogging are meaningful ways for me to serve, and I sense another possibility opening through video, through my voice, or through being physically present with others. I have been hesitant to take that step. Now I see that part of my preparation is becoming more comfortable being seen as the whole of who I am.

A few weeks ago, I felt guided to work with three energies at a time, allowing myself to understand and embody them. The first were courage, patience, and truth, with Peace as the foundation. Little did I know where they were leading.

Peace helps me find balance and harmony within myself. Patience reminds me that I do not need to rush to do everything at once. I can embrace what comes and allow room for divine timing. Truth invites me to acknowledge why I feel I am here: to embody my Presence and help others discover their own connection. Courage asks me to let that truth become visible in my life.

In my inner connection with Isis, I have felt a growing encouragement to explore sharing through voice and Presence. A spoken message carries cadence, warmth, pauses, and feeling. Sometimes we hear familiar words in a way that touches us differently, and something within us stirs. I feel drawn to explore what may open when I allow my voice to become part of my offering.

For this, I am learning to work lovingly with my Protector. It has a place in my life. I can appreciate its desire to keep me safe while inviting it to help me navigate unfamiliar territory with discernment and healthy boundaries. I can move at a pace I am ready for, supported by the love and light I experience through my Presence.

Even the story of the two brothers has become part of this unfolding. Its meaning for me reaches beyond sibling rivalry into the wounds we carry and the ways those wounds shape our relationships. As I wrote about the brothers, I began to recognize more of my own reluctance to be seen. I associate some of that fear with impressions I understand as past-life memories of persecution, including being burned at the stake as a Druid. Whatever another person’s understanding of such experiences may be, the fear I am meeting in myself deserves compassion.

I share this while I am still in the process. We will not all have the same experiences or feel called to the same service. Yet something in one person’s story may help another recognize what is unfolding within their own life. We do not have to finish the journey before we can share honestly about where we are.

Another thread appeared last night. During a body reading, a friend described what she called a “stagnation binding” around my solar plexus and sacral chakra areas. I received this as a spiritual interpretation of a sense of holding and survival, rather than a medical explanation for my physical concerns. It gave me another way to reflect on the difficulty I have been experiencing with focus, writing, and the changes unfolding within me.

She suggested placing my hand over that area and spending at least three minutes breathing gently while imagining light flowing into it, then moving into writing. The suggestion resonated with a grounding practice I had already felt drawn to: one hand on my heart, the other on my belly, imagining a flow from the Earth below and the light above, moving between the two in an infinity pattern. I had also received a similar image in my reflections on the two brothers, as a way of contemplating

Coming Home to My Name

This morning I found myself contemplating something that, on the surface, seemed quite simple.

What name should I use for my writing?

Throughout my spiritual journey, I have received and worked with sacred names. Each has carried meaning for me and has helped me recognize another aspect of myself.

One of those names is Quinara, which I understand as Presence.

Another is Sha’Na’El’-Ka’Zira, a name connected to another depth of my spiritual remembering.

Mareya Shimayah Elohim is part of merging the Presence and Form.

These names have been meaningful companions upon my journey. They have helped me explore consciousness, identity, my connection with the Beings of Light, and what I understand as the greater nature of Being.

Yet this morning, as I opened in contemplation with the energy of Isis, another question arose:

What about Becky?

Becky Prante.

The ordinary human name I have carried through this lifetime.

And suddenly I understood something about embodiment that I had perhaps been making much more complicated than it needed to be.

Do Not Abandon the Woman Who Carried You Here

Becky is the woman who actually walked this path.

She lived the experiences.

She raised the questions.

She doubted.

She wondered.

She laughed and cried.

She went to work and handled the ordinary responsibilities of life while somewhere within her the mystic continued whispering.

She walked through forests and felt Merlin.

She entered inner temples and encountered Isis.

She experienced dreams, synchronicities, visions and moments she could not explain.

She followed the breadcrumbs.

She got lost sometimes.

She found the trail again.

And through all of it, she was Becky.

Why, then, would I arrive at the place of embodiment only to leave her standing outside the temple?

That realization touched me deeply.

But there was another realization waiting beneath it.

Why I Hid the Mystic

There was a time when it did not feel safe to let others see this part of me.

When I was younger and spoke about some of my experiences and perceptions, people did not always understand. Sometimes I was laughed at. Sometimes I was talked about as strange.

And so I learned something many of us learn in one form or another:

Hide the parts of yourself that other people might not accept.

The mystical part of me did not disappear.

She simply moved into the shadows.

I continued living my ordinary life while protecting experiences that were deeply meaningful to me from the judgment of those who might ridicule or misunderstand them.

Looking back now, I can see another dimension to the sacred names that eventually came into my life.

They gave the mystic somewhere to live.

As names appeared that connected me more deeply with the Beings of Light and with my own Presence, I felt freer to explore those relationships.

Quinara could enter places Becky had learned to approach cautiously.

Sha’Na’El’-Ka’Zira could speak a language the everyday Becky had once been afraid to speak aloud.

Those names helped strengthen my connection with the sacred while, in a very human way, keeping Becky safe.

I honor them for that.

I honor the woman who found a way to continue exploring the mystery without exposing a tender part of herself before she was ready.

But something has changed.

I No Longer Need to Hide

This may be one of the most important realizations of my journey into embodiment:

I no longer need to hide who I am.

You may understand my experiences.

You may not.

You may find resonance in the way I perceive life, consciousness and the unseen.

You may think I am strange.

And, finally, I can say:

That is okay.

If you think I am weird, then perhaps that is simply who I am within your perception of me.

It does not change who I am.

If you love what I share, wonderful.

If you don’t, that is okay too.

Neither response determines my truth or my worth.

I do not need another person’s acceptance in order to give myself permission to exist openly.

And I do not need to convince anyone that my experiences mean what they mean to me.

That is freedom.

The Temple Does Not Require Me to Leave My Human Name at the Door

For much of our spiritual journey, we may look toward something greater than ourselves.

Our Higher Self.

Our Presence.

The Divine Feminine or Divine Masculine.

Angels, masters, guides or whatever language speaks to our own understanding of the sacred.

We reach upward.

We expand.

We remember.

But perhaps eventually the journey changes direction.

Instead of continually reaching toward the Divine, we begin allowing what we have discovered to live through the human being who is already here.

Perhaps that is embodiment.

Can Becky enter the temple?

Can Becky hold the staff?

Can Becky walk with Merlin through the forest?

Can Becky sit with Isis?

Can Becky dance and laugh with St. Germain?

Can Becky experience the extraordinary while remaining completely, wonderfully human?

Yes.

And perhaps the greater question for me has become:

Can Becky tell you about it without first wondering what you will think of her?

Yes.

That may be one of the Gateways I have finally walked through.

The Mystic Does Not Need to Replace the Woman

Recently I realized that something had gone missing from my writing.

Magic.

In trying to make my work clear and understandable to a wider audience, I had gradually polished away some of the very thing that made it mine.

The mystic disappeared.

The storyteller became a teacher.

The wonder became explanation.

And eventually I stopped wanting to write.

Now I understand why.

In trying to make my writing acceptable, I had unknowingly begun hiding again.

It was the old protection wearing new clothes.

Once I hid the mystical because I feared being laughed at.

Later I softened it because I wanted my writing to be acceptable to more people.

Different circumstances.

Same hiding.

And I am finished hiding.

I don’t need to choose between Becky and Quinara.

I don’t need to choose between the ordinary woman and the mystic.

I don’t need to make the mystical ordinary enough to be acceptable, nor make the human being extraordinary enough to appear spiritual.

They belong together.

Quinara can be part of Becky’s story.

Sha’Na’El’-Ka’Zira can be part of Becky’s story.

Merlin, Isis, St. Germain, the temples, the forests, the dreams, the laughter, the questions and the mysteries can all be part of Becky’s story.

And I don’t have to tell another person what any of those experiences must mean to them.

I can simply say:

This is what happened to me.

This is what I experienced.

This is what it caused me to see.

Then you are free to discover what, if anything, it awakens within you.

Perhaps This Is the Bridge

I recently saw the book I am writing in a new way.

I had originally thought of it as something like a guidebook for a national park—a guide through the Gateways of consciousness, embodiment and sovereignty.

Then the image changed.

I saw myself walking the trail with others.

We climbed a mountain along switchbacks.

Sometimes we stopped at beautiful overlooks.

Sometimes we sat at a switchback and reflected upon how far we had traveled.

And at night we gathered around a fire and told stories.

That is when I understood.

I don’t want to stand at the bottom of the mountain handing people a map.

I want to walk with them.

I want to say:

Come with me.

There is something beautiful around this bend.

There is a story I want to tell you beside the fire tonight.

I will tell you about the forests.

I will tell you about the temples.

I will tell you about Merlin and Isis and St. Germain.

I will tell you about the inexplicable moments and the very ordinary ones.

I will tell you when I stumbled.

I will tell you when I laughed.

I will tell you when I wasn’t sure what any of it meant.

And perhaps somewhere within my story, you will remember one of your own.

You do not have to believe my story in the same way I understand it in order to sit beside the fire with me.

You are free to listen through the language of your own heart.

Coming Home

So I think I know the name that will appear on my writing.

Becky Prante.

Not because the sacred names have become less meaningful.

Quite the opposite.

They helped me bring something precious out of hiding.

They gave me room to discover it, strengthen it and learn to trust it.

And now perhaps their work has brought me full circle.

I no longer need them to separate the mystical part of myself from the woman living this human life.

The mystic does not have to replace Becky.

She can come home to Becky.

And Becky does not need to hide her anymore.

Perhaps this is one of the simplest understandings of embodiment I have encountered:

We do not become Divine by leaving our humanity behind.

We allow what we understand as Divine to move through the human form already here.

We bring the hidden pieces home.

We stop dividing ourselves according to what the world might accept.

The feet remain upon the Earth.

The heart remains open to the mystery.

And the storyteller walks between them.

My name is Becky Prante.

Some of you may think I am a little strange.

That’s okay.

Some of you may recognize something of yourselves in my stories.

Welcome. Come sit beside me.

I have walked some very interesting trails.

And I am no longer afraid to tell you the stories.

You see the journey never ends, it simply continues to unfold. 

These are my stories.

This is my magic. 

This is me.

Come let us continue to walk together if you wish. 

There are many stories yet to be shared around the fire of our Being.

Just listen with the through the language of your heart.

For me I no longer need to separate the mystical me and the woman who lived the life.

For as in this we become One,

I Am Becky Prante

Sovereignty, Freedom and the Greater Good

Today, I am taking a deeper look at sovereignty and what it means to embody it in our lives.

Many associate sovereignty with a ruler—a king or queen exercising authority over a people, country or territory. Yet the sovereignty I am exploring begins within: recognizing ourselves as an expression of the Oneness and allowing the inner Presence of our Being to guide how we live.

This invites us to discern what we accept, what we support and what we choose to express. We can listen to others, learn from their perspectives and participate in society while remaining responsible for our own choices.

Living in sovereignty asks us to consider the well-being of the whole. Our words and actions reach beyond ourselves. The freedom we claim for our own lives must also leave room for the dignity, freedom and well-being of others.

With sovereignty comes responsibility.

A leader may exercise authority in service to the greater good or use it to satisfy a desire for power and control. We face a similar choice within ourselves. What is guiding us: the wisdom of our Presence, or the part of us that fears losing control, needs to be right or seeks to impose its will?

This is a question to approach with honesty and compassion. We all have wounds, fears and protective patterns. Becoming aware of them gives us an opportunity to choose more consciously.

Sovereignty also asks us to bring discernment to the rules and systems under which we live. Laws intended to protect people and support our shared well-being deserve thoughtful consideration. When a law or practice causes harm, we are called to examine it rather than surrender our conscience to authority. Our response asks for care, an understanding of the consequences and responsibility for the actions we take.

As we witness events unfolding, we will encounter choices about when to speak, when to listen, when to act and when to pause. Inner peace can help us meet these choices with greater clarity.

Witnessing from that peace can include standing beside someone who is being mistreated, setting a compassionate boundary or working with others to change a harmful condition. We can act firmly while remembering the humanity of those with whom we disagree.

The greater good includes ALL LIFE: humanity, our animal kin, the waters, the land and the living world that sustains us. Our sovereignty exists within this relationship. We belong to a whole whose well-being is inseparable from our own.

The less clear we feel within ourselves, the easier it may be to mistake reaction for guidance or to allow the strongest voice around us to determine our direction. A moment of stillness can help us ask:

Am I responding from fear, anger or a need to control? What would love, wisdom and responsibility ask of me here?

We may not receive an immediate answer. Sometimes sovereignty means allowing ourselves time to listen, gather information and reconsider what we thought we knew.

We shape the world through the way we live, yet none of us lives entirely alone. Balance and harmony require participation: mutual respect, honest discussion, cooperation and a willingness to recognize that another person may see something we have overlooked.

Unity leaves room for difference. We can remain rooted in our deepest values while finding common ground about how to live together. Compromise may serve that purpose when it preserves dignity and does not ask anyone to accept harm as the price of belonging.

I understand the future as something that continues to unfold through our choices. Some choices bring small shifts in our personal lives. Others, joined with the choices of many people, help change the direction of a community or society.

A more peaceful world requires us to practice the qualities we hope to see within it. We begin in our homes, our conversations, our relationships and the ways we respond to those whose lives differ from our own.

Even a sincere desire for freedom deserves ongoing self-examination. We can leave behind an oppressive situation and still carry habits of control into what we create next. This asks us to remain awake to whether the freedom we seek for ourselves is also the freedom we extend to others.

We are at a point of choice, personally and collectively.

Perhaps the deeper question is: How will I use my freedom in service to life?

Each day offers an opportunity to answer through the way we listen, the boundaries we honor, the care we offer and the responsibility we accept.

For the highest benefit of all, may we walk in personal sovereignty with grace, discernment and love—honoring our own Presence while recognizing the same sacred worth in one another.

Wounds, Forgiveness and Healing

As I continue writing about the two brothers, I realize that this story is inviting me into a deeper exploration of healing. Beyond the shadows and beliefs we recognize, there may be wounds that have remained unseen, waiting to be met with love.

Some of these wounds are personal. Others belong to the stories we share as families, ancestral lineages, communities, countries and humanity. Within my spiritual understanding, this healing also reaches into the multidimensional aspects of ourselves that we are bringing into Unity as we embody our Presence.

As we begin to live from that Presence, our awareness of the connection of all life expands. We become more conscious of how we affect others and how their experiences touch us. In contemplating this, I found myself remembering the practice of Hoʻoponopono.

Rooted in Native Hawaiian culture, traditional Hoʻoponopono is a process of setting relationships right. It brings families together through prayer, honest discussion, acknowledgment of wrongdoing, restitution and mutual forgiveness, with the intention of restoring harmony.

Modern adaptations have brought more individual approaches to a wider audience. Morrnah Nalamaku Simeona developed Self I-Dentity through Ho’oponopono, which includes a fuller process than the four phrases many of us know today:

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.

Thank you.

I love you.

These phrases are associated with a modern approach to the practice; they do not represent the whole of the traditional Hawaiian process. I offer them here with respect for those roots, while sharing how they speak to my own spiritual experience.

For me, they are an invitation to acknowledge pain, take responsibility for my own actions and responses, and meet life with greater kindness. They remind me that forgiveness also asks something of how we live: how we listen, how we make amends and how we treat one another moving forward.

I had not intended to write about this practice in such detail, but I am learning to follow the flow of what comes forward.

As we enter the stillness, we can bring a wound or relationship gently into our awareness and consider what each phrase means in that moment.

What are we seeking to heal?

What might greater peace make possible within ourselves and in our relationships?

What are we ready to acknowledge, release or change?

In my understanding of Oneness, we can hold compassion for wounds beyond our own experience. We can offer a prayer for forgiveness and healing without assuming responsibility for another person’s choices or speaking on behalf of those who have been hurt. Our part is to meet what arises within us honestly and allow that awareness to shape how we respond.

This brings me back to the story of the two brothers.

About six months ago, during my spiritual work with the Hope Corridor and grids, I became aware of what I experienced as a fulcrum between two conflicting energies associated with the Middle East. To me, these reflected the deeper pattern I have been exploring through the story of the brothers. I asked inwardly whether there was something I could offer in service to healing.

In meditation, I felt guided to hold one energy before my heart and the other behind it, with the fulcrum resting within my heart. I visualized healing love flowing in a figure eight, or infinity symbol, through my heart and around both energies.

My role in this visualization was to witness, to love and to allow, without trying to determine the outcome.

This has remained an ongoing practice for me. When the tale of the two brothers returned to my attention, followed by the remembrance of Hoʻoponopono, I wondered whether I was being invited to revisit it with deeper understanding.

The original experience came before the bridges and gateways through which I began exploring embodiment more fully. Perhaps I am returning now with a greater capacity to be present to what I could only begin to understand then.

I must admit that, in working with the grids and corridors, I sometimes encounter more than I can give sustained attention to. Some practices seem to ask for a moment of stillness; others call me back over time. At times I have felt overwhelmed, and some have fallen to the wayside.

I am learning to meet that, too, with compassion. I can return when I feel called, without turning service into a burden or judging myself for needing rest.

Now these threads seem to be coming together again: the two brothers, the heart as a place of balance, and forgiveness as an opening toward reconciliation. For me, combining the infinity visualization with these four phrases offers a way to return to that intention with simplicity and love.

Those who feel drawn to the phrases may also choose to reflect with them, alone or with others. Each of us can begin with the relationships and experiences that are present in our own lives.  We can also expand this to allow the flow of this healing practice to move through us to what may seem as opposing points of view on events in the world, family, relationships and community.

And this brings us back to an essential part of healing: forgiving ourselves.

We may ask forgiveness from others and seek to forgive them, yet continue to hold ourselves in guilt. Self-forgiveness allows us to acknowledge what happened, make amends where possible and learn, without asking ourselves to suffer endlessly as proof that we care.

Forgiveness can coexist with clear boundaries. Reconciliation asks for willingness and care from those involved; it cannot be required of someone simply because we are ready for it.

Within my spiritual perspective, ancestral wounds include patterns of grief, fear and separation carried through our shared stories. In intense moments of emotional experience, my personal belief is that the energies of these events imprint within our DNA and can be passed genetically. I believe we have the ability to help heal our lineage by releasing them within ourselves.

As I explore the integration of other aspects of my Presence, I also become aware of patterns that seem to ask for understanding and compassion. I approach these gently, allowing what arises to inform the healing available to me here and now.

Oneness reminds me that the way we live matters beyond ourselves. A response softened by compassion, an honest apology or a choice to stop repeating a hurtful pattern can change what we bring into our relationships.

Many of us feel we are ancient souls who came into this life with a desire to serve humanity, nature and the Earth. For me, that sense of purpose is an invitation to be present, to notice where love is needed and to offer what I can.

I do not need to know the full reach of a prayer to offer it sincerely. Nor do I need to direct the outcome for love to have meaning.

For now, I will return to the stillness, hold these energies gently within my visualization, and allow the words to deepen my willingness to forgive, to listen and to love.

Perhaps healing begins with this simple opening: meeting the wound with compassion and allowing love to guide our next step.

Diana, the Queen of Hearts

I felt drawn to write this yesterday, though at first I was not quite sure why. Then I realized it was the timing.

I had been thinking about the return of Prince Harry, Meghan, and their children to England with hope and love, holding the blessing of reunion with his father in my heart. At first, I had not connected this with the date.

It was August 31, 1997, when Princess Diana passed, leaving two young men to grieve the loss of their mother, the constant love and security in their lives. While the world mourned the loss of the Queen of Hearts, our hearts also went out to her sons. You could see their pain, especially in young Harry.

I think perhaps my writing of The Tale of Two Brothers also has its place in this timing. Until today, I had not fully realized that the timing of Harry’s return falls so near the anniversary of Diana’s passing. I do not believe in mere coincidence. Even when we are doing something and do not yet understand the reason, our souls can be prompting us. This doesn’t mean I know that Harry consciously chose this timing knowing this, but that perhaps he was simply inspired or called from within to heal.

It has been 29 years, and 2 + 9 becomes 11, a master number. To me, this speaks of spiritual inspiration, personal transformation, growth, and becoming a beacon for others. It feels like a master step in one’s life. I see within this timing an inspiration to help others release old pain and heal family wounds.

I feel Diana’s love for her boys, and even from the spirit realms, I sense her desire to see them reconcile their differences. These are two young men who loved one another deeply, and somewhere within, still do. Yet they must find their way through the pain. More important at this time, perhaps, is the reconciliation of a man with his father, who is ill.

I feel Diana would be at peace with them accepting and moving beyond the pain she experienced with King Charles and Camilla. The past is the past, and forgiveness is not about approving what happened. It is about releasing what we carry within ourselves so that peace may return.

The story was a tragedy that still asks to be healed. Yet in the midst of that story, two young men were born whom the world has watched grow, stumble, choose, and become.

One was destined to be a future king and was raised, as his father had been, within the structure, duty, and expectations of the Crown. The other had to search for his own role in life. These two different paths shaped how they saw the world, how they developed, and how they responded to life. I will not speak of what has already been written and discussed so many times.

Let us simply say that each, by following his own path, has created the life he felt he needed. In many families, the same thing happens. Different paths create different wounds, and then there comes a time when those wounds have the opportunity to be released and healed. If they are not, they can continue through the family line, carried from generation to generation.

It is good to see even the beginning of a reunion: the King, his wife, Harry, Meghan, and their children taking steps toward healing. It would be beautiful to see that healing continue. Yet even these baby steps feel meaningful.

I sense Diana smiling, for all she ever wanted was for her sons to be loved, happy, and safe.

A TALE OF TWO BROTHERS

I wanted to share a little about my current project. It first came forward some time ago, and although I have mentioned it before, I am now taking a deeper dive as I write.

Originally, I thought it would be a regular blog post. I had touched upon working with these energies in an earlier writing, but as I began exploring the subject, the post grew into a booklet—far too long for a blog. Now, as I continue, even more seems to want to come forward, and it may become a book.

I felt that this needed to be written before the Gateway book. At first, I was not sure why. Perhaps it was meant to help me hone my writing skills. Yet as I began preparing this blog, I came to understand something more: for me, this book is also the healing of a wound. I feel it may help others heal wounds of their own—wounds from this lifetime, other timelines, and perhaps even those carried through the ancestral line.

I realize the project could just as easily be called A Tale of Two Sisters, or perhaps A Family Tale of Sibling Rivalry.

In many families, rivalry or competition emerges between siblings and asks to be healed. When we heal the pattern within ourselves, we free ourselves from continuing to carry it. We may also change how the pattern lives within our relationships and what is passed forward to future generations. Sometimes the roots run deep, weaving their way through a family for generations.

The Christian Bible contains passages referring to the effects of wrongdoing reaching into the third and fourth generations. As I reflected upon this, I heard within: Think of the chakras. The first three chakras relate to survival, creation, and personal power. The fourth is the heart—the place where transformation begins. From there, we learn to speak anew, to see and hear anew, and to free ourselves from old limitations.

I sense there are more correlations of this kind waiting to be revealed as I dig deeper.

I look forward to what will unfold. I feel there may be something within this tale that can help humanity, as a whole, become free to move into a New World of Unity, Peace, and Grace.

I AM Mareya Shimayah Elohim

Reflection on My Path

I was thinking that perhaps I did not have anything left to share with others, and that maybe it was time to take a break from blogging.

I know my blogging has already been irregular, but life itself is irregular. It moves, shifts, pauses, and begins again.

Then, as I sat quietly, I was shown something.

My blogging began several years ago as a simple sharing of my thoughts and what I was learning as I sought and explored spiritual truth. I was not trying to teach or convince others of my truth. I was simply sharing what I was discovering, in case it mattered or helped another along their own path.

As I explored and shared, my path began to shift.

It moved from seeking wisdom and truth in books, or from sources outside of myself, into Remembering. What I learned inspired me, but it also began to open the doorway to inner truth.

In that remembering, the Spiral of Return emerged, and the Higher Heart to Oneness opened.

As I began to step upon the stairs of the spiral, it carried me to the bridges. For me, the bridges were the energies of Being, the living links between the physical and the spiritual. As I began to cross these bridges one at a time, each one eventually led to a gateway.

Each gateway was an opening into the spiritual nature of these energies of Being. It called me to align them more fully by releasing what had kept them limited within the physical realm. Once I passed through a gateway, I was then called to dig deeper.

To dig deeper meant learning to live these truths as more than concepts. It meant allowing them to become part of my daily life, aligned and guided in Oneness with the Presence of my Being. This is the space I am currently within, and it is what I have been sharing.

I needed this moment of reflection to see how the path has spiraled.

When I first stepped upon the Metatronic Spiral of Return, I was shown that within the spiral were the Petals of the Oversoul.

What I am now experiencing within the Deeper Dive are those Petals of the Oversoul: the deeper embodiment and experience of the Essences of Creation and Beingness.

The names are not different from when the journey began: truth, peace, love, compassion, wisdom. Yet my understanding and experience of them have changed and deepened. No longer do the values and expectations of society guide or determine my choices and actions. Instead, I am learning to be guided by the deeper freedom of Unity.

So, will I stop blogging?

Probably not. However, as my life shifts and new inspiration appears, my sharing may continue to be irregular.

I want to thank those who have been with me this far on the journey. I hope that what I share may help another in their own experience. I try to be truthful about what I experience and understand, while also recognizing that truth and understanding change and evolve as we clear, grow, and embody more of who we are.

So, if you look back at my beginning posts and compare them to where I am now, you may see vast differences. Yet it is in the willingness to let go of being locked into one particular truth or path that we allow the flow to guide us toward the highest possible expression for us.

Thank you for reading.

I AM Mareya Shimayah Elohim

WHO AM I?

I am your sister in the family of Oneness.

I am a spark of Creation.

I have carried many names through what I experience as many timelines and many expressions of Being.

I have suffered.

And I have known Peace and Joy beyond the limitations of ordinary perspective.

I have fought in wars…

and I have walked for Peace.

I have known loneliness, abandonment, and sorrow.

I have also belonged to families who worked together…

laughed together…

and sang with joy.

I have created.

I have destroyed.

I have stumbled.

I have risen.

And through every experience, I have learned.

Wisdom has grown from the living of it all.

For much of my life, I followed paths that systems and others told me were proper.

I honor those paths.

They, too, taught me.

But now…

I walk in Truth and sovereign authority.

I honor and recognize the teachers and Beings of Light whom I experience as having walked before me.

I am grateful for every hand that seemed to reach toward me when I stumbled…

every lantern that illuminated enough of the path for me to take another step…

every presence that reminded me I was not walking alone.

But I no longer wait for another to tell me who I AM.

I AM HERE.

I walk in Peace.

I walk steadily.

I no longer need to race toward embodiment as though there were somewhere else I must arrive.

One step.

Then another.

I belong.

I am welcomed.

Like the prodigal daughter returning home, I finally allow myself to take my place at the banquet table.

I am enough.

I do not need to be perfect.

I need only remain present…

steady…

and true.

I have always been enough.

Now I remember.

There is all the time in Infinite Creation…

and not another moment needs to be surrendered to regret, guilt, or anything that keeps me from the freedom of Being.

And perhaps, dear traveler, if you have been walking beside me for a while, there is something I would ask you to remember as well.

You are loved.

Not when you become perfect.

Not when you finally get everything right.

Now.

You are loved.

You are enough.

Whatever your spiritual language, whatever path has brought you here, perhaps those you regard as teachers, guides, or sacred companions are not standing at the end of the road asking you to prove yourself worthy.

Perhaps they are holding lanterns.

Perhaps they are illuminating the path just enough for you to recognize something that has been true all along.

You already belong.

The light may show you the way…

but the steps are yours.

And perhaps coming home is not about finally reaching some distant place.

Perhaps it is the moment you stop standing outside…

and remember:

I AM HERE.

— Mareya Shimayah Elohim

RESONANT PERCEPTION

Woman in glowing sphere overlooking a flower-filled village valley
A woman surrounded by glowing light stands among butterflies above a peaceful mountain village.

There is a familiar saying:

“We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.”

Over the last few days, I have repeatedly heard the word clarity—clarity of thought, clarity of emotion, and clarity within the energy of the body.

It seems that my journey into Peace and Stillness has opened the way for greater clarity to arise. It is the clarity of Stillness and Oneness that emerges from within when I allow myself to flow from Love.

As I sat within the stillness, I was shown an image of the Cosmic Egg, an ancient symbol representing the womb of Creation from which all life emerges. As I watched, the image transformed into the energetic field surrounding my body—a golden-white egg flowing outward from my heart.

I saw it open in what I understood to be Divine Timing, when the resonance around me aligned with the resonance flowing from within my heart.

A beautiful woman appeared. I felt that she represented my Presence.

She said:

“What is yours can never be taken from you.

“It may be altered by your thoughts, energies, and actions, but it remains yours.

“You create it as you align with the Oneness.

“There is no need for the ego or the Protector to push or rush the timing.

“Allow the flow, or you may alter the manifestation from the perfection it offers.”

She disappeared, and I saw a butterfly attempting to emerge from its cocoon.

A person observing the butterfly felt compassion for its struggle. Wanting to help, they used their fingers to widen the opening of the cocoon. Yet when the butterfly emerged, its wings remained cramped and undeveloped. It was unable to fly.

What the person did not understand was that the butterfly’s struggle to emerge was necessary. The effort of moving through the narrow opening strengthened its wings and prepared them for flight.

I had heard this story before, but now I was being shown a deeper meaning.

When I witness another person moving through a difficult experience, my rational mind and ego cannot always understand the lesson their life may be offering them. If I interfere without being asked, I may not only take away part of that lesson; I may also take away their opportunity to choose how they will respond. It is often through making that choice that they discover their own strength.

Helping another might temporarily make my ego feel important or needed. I may even expect gratitude, whether I recognize that expectation or not. Yet my help could unintentionally create obligation, interfere with another person’s freedom, or impose the outcome I believe is best.

I was then shown a young person who saw a butterfly resting upon a flower. Fascinated by its beauty, they grasped it between their fingers. They did not intend to cause harm, but they did not understand how delicate the butterfly was. Its legs and wings were damaged, leaving it unable to fly or gather the nectar it needed to survive.

The same beautiful woman appeared and said:

“It is through the heart aligned with Oneness that one begins to see clearly—not from the limited perspective formed by the outer world, but from the Infinite Perspective.”

This does not mean we should never help another. It means we must become still enough to discern the difference between compassionate assistance and interference.

Are we responding from Love and inner guidance, or from discomfort because we cannot bear to witness another person’s struggle?

Are we supporting their sovereignty, or attempting to control their path?

As I shared yesterday, my husband and I have both noticed a shift in our perspective concerning the chaos in the world.

I can now look at much of the chaos from a place of Peace.

When I witness what I perceive to be injustice, I no longer allow the stress of it to immediately pull me from my center. I remember that I am viewing the situation through my own perception. I cannot control everything occurring around me, but I can choose how I perceive it, how I respond to it, and what kind of future I desire to help create.

I ask myself, “Why?”

Why am I being shown this?

What is it awakening or revealing within me?

What am I being invited to choose?

The Being of Light appeared again and motioned for me to follow her.

We entered a small community where people worked together in gardens. Children sat outside studying in groups or playing with animals. The homes blended naturally into the surrounding environment. There were small stores, farmers’ markets, and people offering goods they had created with their own hands.

The energy was peaceful, joyful, and caring.

The Being said:

“This is what those in 3D refer to as 5D.”

I began to understand more clearly the idea of a fifth-dimensional reality—or what some might call Heaven on Earth.

It was not that this particular community represented a mandated vision of what 5D must look like for everyone. It was showing me what I personally desired the future I wished to experience to feel like.

As I align more clearly with my Presence, my resonant energy rises. The Universe responds to the resonance I embody. That resonance will draw me toward—and draw toward me—the people, places, experiences, and possibilities that reflect the highest life I am presently able to imagine and receive.

As more people embody a similar resonance of Peace, we will naturally be drawn together.

I can now look upon the chaos and say:

“That may be your choice, but it is not mine.”

I do not need to condemn the choices of others, nor do I need to participate in them.

Neither do I need to hold tightly to one specific image of the future, including the community I was shown. Instead, I can hold the essence of what I desire: a peaceful, safe, joyful, and environmentally balanced world founded upon compassion and caring.

I can allow its timing and form to unfold as I become ready to receive it and as the Universe brings the necessary resonances into alignment.

I can govern my own energy and resonance. I cannot govern the resonance of another, nor would I wish to do so.

I understand now why Peace is so important. Love, Peace, and Grace form the foundation of the reality I wish to experience.

The more deeply I feel these qualities within my heart and embody them in my life, the more they expand into the environment around me and flow outward through the Hope Corridor. As I move within these energies, my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies come into greater alignment.

As I resonate more strongly with this higher way of being, the chaos of the outer world loses its power to pull me away from my center.

This transformation does not require someone to arrive and take me somewhere else. It does not depend upon escaping the world, suddenly jumping timelines, or the world being destroyed.

It unfolds through resonance with Oneness.

A final energy emerged for me within this journey of embodiment: forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not only about forgiving others for what we believe they have done to us, to those we love, or to the world. That part has become easier for me because I no longer choose to live in the past or carry it endlessly into the present and future.

For me, forgiveness is now about forgiving myself for choices, words, and actions that were not always perfect, pure, or aligned.

It means releasing the guilt I have carried concerning my life and my choices.

It means removing the shackles I placed upon myself and embracing the beauty and power of my own integrity, honor, and sovereignty. It means reclaiming my inner authority rather than continuing to live by the rules, goals, and visions of others merely to avoid punishment, rejection, ostracism, or even death.

Some of these wounds feel as though they have been carried from other timelines. Others may have traveled through my ancestral line. Whatever their origin, I no longer need to allow them to govern my life.

The manipulations of systems rooted in chaos now seem outdated to me. I can see them more clearly without giving them authority over my inner world.

I no longer feel guilty for establishing compassionate boundaries.

I do not set boundaries to reject another. I set them to love and heal myself so that, when it is appropriate, I have more wisdom, compassion, and strength to share.

Then it is not my ego attempting to change another. It is the natural flow of Light, Love, and Grace moving through me, perhaps touching something within them that is ready to awaken.

Giving and receiving are also part of this balance.

I have often found it easier to give than to receive. Receiving can make me uncomfortable. I now understand that this pattern is connected to the Protector energy I once needed and learned to embody.

When I continually gave but refused to receive, I was unconsciously telling myself:

“I am not worthy of receiving.”

In doing so, I restricted the natural flow of the Universe.

Refusing to receive may also take something away from the person who desires to give. It denies them the meaningful experience of offering their love, energy, assistance, or appreciation.

Giving and receiving are not opposites. They are two movements within the same sacred flow. Balance and harmony arise as the energy moves freely in both directions.

I was guided to raise my arms with my palms facing the sky and say:

“I AM open to receiving the gifts of the Universe.

“I release false ego.

“I AM open to receive with joy.”

I then brought my palms to my heart and solar plexus and said:

“I receive the energy of the Earth and the bounty of the Universe in balance and harmony.

“I open myself to greater wisdom and Infinite Abundance within my life.”

Today, I ask myself:

Where do I need to forgive myself?

Do I truly believe I am worthy of receiving?

Where do I need to establish compassionate boundaries?

What continues to pull me away from my center of Peace?

Perhaps these questions will also help you look more gently and clearly upon your own journey and experiences.

We are not being asked to force the future into existence.

We are being invited to become resonant with the future we wish to experience.

I AM Mareya Shimayah Elohim

The Times in Which We Live

Peace and the Protector

I awoke this morning from a dream in which I was gathering things together, trying to put everything into a safe place and make certain everything was orderly.

Then my birth father appeared wearing a police uniform.

He looked at me and simply said:

“Be at Peace. I protect you.”

When I awoke, I knew the message went beyond my father himself. He had appeared because, throughout my life, he had represented protection to me.

Until the day he passed, I always knew my father had my back.

No matter where I was or what was happening, I knew I could call him. He would guide me, help me, and, if necessary, come and get me.

That knowing gave me courage.

My father taught my mother, my sister, and me that we could accomplish whatever we truly set our minds to. He modeled strength without needing to live in fear. He was peaceful—or knew how to return quickly to peace—and from that place he could face whatever arose with wisdom, compassion, calmness, and strength.

There were even times when life seemed to place him nearby just when I was making a major transition.

When I moved to North Carolina, I unexpectedly discovered that he had temporarily been assigned within a few hours of me. Later, when I was called to California without first telling my parents, I discovered that he had also been sent to California.

Then, shortly after I became engaged to my husband, my father was offered work back in Michigan, near their hometown.

Something within me felt that his role as my protector was changing.

My husband would now walk beside me.

Within a few years, my father became ill and passed quickly.

And something within me changed.

I became the protector.

The strong one.

The one who watched.

The one who anticipated.

The one who tried to make certain everyone and everything would be all right.

I have carried that role for thirty-four years.

Until now.

Peace and the Protector

Recently I have been exploring the understanding that Peace is the Baseline.

I am beginning to see why my inner Protector became so important in this journey.

The Protector did not need to disappear.

It needed a new role.

Instead of constantly standing guard, anticipating everything that could go wrong, the Protector could become an ally—aware of the physical world, attentive to what required action, but no longer responsible for carrying everyone or preventing every possible difficulty.

I could allow Presence to lead.

And the Protector could simply walk beside me.

That understanding became especially meaningful over the last few days.

My husband and I had been noticing how much turmoil seems to surround us—natural disasters, accidents, fires, mechanical failures, personal challenges, and the ordinary disruptions that can suddenly turn a peaceful day upside down.

I noticed something similar while talking with several of my longtime clients. After our business was finished, we spoke, as friends often do, about what was happening in our lives.

Again and again I heard variations of the same story.

Things were breaking.

Things were being lost.

Unexpected problems were arising.

People and circumstances were pulling at their peace.

Yet my husband and I had also been experiencing challenges, and something was different.

We were learning to meet them without allowing each event to carry us into chaos.

Not because difficult things stopped happening.

But because we were beginning to understand that we could choose how we met them.

Then came my dream.

I saw myself gathering everything, trying once again to make everything safe.

And my father appeared.

“Be at Peace. I protect you.”

When I awoke, the meaning became clearer.

The voice of the protector I had associated with my father had become, for me, the voice of Presence within.

I no longer needed to spend my life trying to protect everyone.

I could be aware.

I could respond when action was needed.

I could care deeply.

But I could also release what was not mine to carry.

For me, this is what it means to walk with Presence.

You may call it God, Presence, Universal Mind, Divine Consciousness, Oneness, or another name that speaks to your heart. The terminology is not what matters.

What matters is what happens when we return to the stillness within ourselves.

In Peace, we can listen before reacting.

In Peace, we can recognize what requires our action and what requires our release.

In Peace, we can remain compassionate without assuming responsibility for everything around us.

And from Peace, we can choose our next step.

This reminded me again of the monks and their Walk for Peace.

They did not walk because they believed they could personally remove every conflict from the world.

They simply walked in Peace.

And as they walked, others felt it.

Perhaps that is one of the quiet gifts we offer one another.

Not fixing another person’s life.

Not carrying their burdens.

Not convincing them to believe as we believe.

Simply living from enough peace that another person remembers peace is possible.

Peace Is How We Meet the Moment

Walking in Peace does not mean challenges will never come.

It does not mean nothing painful, unexpected, or difficult will happen.

It means we develop a place within ourselves from which we can meet what comes.

We can pause.

We can breathe.

We can witness what is happening without immediately becoming what is happening.

Then we can respond with greater balance, wisdom, and clarity.

We learn to deal with what is before us now, rather than carrying every imagined possibility of tomorrow.

We remember:

This too shall pass.

And perhaps this is one of the greatest protections Peace offers us.

Not protection from living.

Protection from losing ourselves within everything that happens while we are living.

As I finished writing this message, words attributed to Archangel Michael arose within my contemplation:

“Above all else, guard your heart, for all that you are and do flows from it. Be at Peace and in the Stillness.”

Today I understand those words differently.

Guarding the heart does not mean closing it.

It means tending the inner place from which we meet the world.

Keeping it open.

Keeping it compassionate.

Returning it, again and again, to Peace.

We cannot control every event that may arise in the times in which we live.

We cannot carry every person.

We cannot know every future possibility.

But we can choose how we meet this moment.

And perhaps that is enough.

Be at Peace.

Walk in Peace.

Let Peace be the baseline from which you meet the times in which we live.