Receiving Guidance Without Surrendering Sovereignty

For the last two days, I have been feeling the Presence of Isis very strongly.

I sensed there was something she was trying to help me understand about the next steps in my unfolding.

For me, asking for spiritual guidance is not about surrendering my Sovereignty to another Being.

It is much more like asking someone whose wisdom I trust for another perspective.

We do this in everyday life.

We speak with a friend.

We consult a teacher.

We seek a second opinion.

We ask someone who may be able to see something we cannot presently see for ourselves.

Within my own spiritual understanding, I experience certain Beings of Light in much the same way. I perceive them as offering perspectives from beyond the limitations through which I may currently be viewing a situation.

But the choice always remains mine.

Why Not Simply Ask My Presence?

Someone might reasonably ask:

Why not simply go within and ask your own Presence or Higher Self?

I do.

That is always where I ultimately return.

Yet sometimes something is sitting just outside my present field of perception.

Perhaps there is an old belief still operating.

Perhaps the Protector is uncertain.

Perhaps I am receiving clearly but do not yet trust what I am receiving.

Sometimes I simply need another perspective before I can see what was already there.

Does that mean I am not aligned or that I am not walking my talk?

Perhaps sometimes it means I still have something to clear.

But I also think it means I am human.

Alignment is not a permanent achievement after which we never experience doubt again.

It is a continuing relationship.

There are times when I can hear clearly.

There are times when old layers rise.

There are times when I know something inwardly but still want reassurance.

That reminds me of seeking a second medical opinion.

We may already sense what is happening, and the first doctor may confirm it, but perhaps the answer is not what we expected—or wanted—to hear.

So we ask again.

Not necessarily because the first answer was wrong.

Sometimes we simply need enough clarity to receive it.

Why Isis?

Within my own spiritual path, Isis has long represented the Divine Feminine—motherhood, unconditional love, compassion, protection, healing, devotion, and the gathering together of what has become fragmented.

Her ancient myth of restoring Osiris has always spoken to me symbolically of bringing scattered pieces back into wholeness.

I have felt her as a guide throughout much of my life.

Interestingly, she does not seem to answer simply because I ask.

The question must be ready.

And perhaps I must be ready for the answer.

That distinction matters.

Guidance is not command.

To ask does not mean I must obey whatever I perceive.

For me, genuine spiritual guidance does not say:

You must do this.

It offers another view.

Another possibility.

Another piece of the landscape.

Then I choose.

That is where discernment enters.

Taking Guidance Within

If I receive something that fills my heart with joy and recognition, I still take it into stillness.

If I receive something that makes me uncomfortable or uncertain, I take that into stillness too.

I may ask:

What exactly am I reacting to?

Is an old experience being triggered?

Is my Protector afraid of something familiar?

Have I felt this reaction before?

Where do I notice it in my body?

The body can sometimes help us recognize stress, fear, tension, or emotions we have not yet consciously acknowledged.

I do not assume that a particular physical pain always carries one specific emotional or spiritual meaning. But physical sensations can invite us to become curious about what else may be happening within us.

I can ask:

What was happening when this feeling first appeared?

Does it remind me of an earlier experience?

Is there something here that wants acknowledgment or release?

And even when my heart immediately says yes, I still value the pause.

Because the pause allows all parts of me to come together.

Presence.

Protector.

Human self.

Then the question becomes:

What do we understand together?

What choice feels aligned now?

That is not giving away Sovereignty.

That is practicing it.

Guidance Is Not the Same as Authority

This distinction feels increasingly important to me.

We can receive wisdom from many places without surrendering our own inner authority.

A spiritual teacher can offer a perspective.

A friend can offer insight.

A book can illuminate something.

A dream can awaken a question.

A synchronicity can cause us to stop and look again.

A Being of Light, within one’s spiritual understanding, can offer guidance.

But none of these replaces discernment.

No message becomes true merely because someone says it came from a higher source.

No teacher becomes infallible because others admire them.

No inner voice should automatically be obeyed simply because it feels unusual or spiritual.

Everything can be taken into stillness.

Everything can be examined.

Everything can be held beside Love, Compassion, Truth, Wisdom, and the deeper knowing of Presence.

And then we choose.

We Are Not Meant to Walk Alone

I believe we come into life with relationships, experiences, and connections that can help us grow.

Some people will challenge us.

Some will comfort us.

Some will teach us.

Some may awaken memories or qualities within us that had been sleeping.

Within my own spiritual understanding, I also believe we may have connections with guides or Beings of Light that feel ancient and familiar.

Others may understand these experiences differently.

That is all right.

The larger truth remains:

None of us walks entirely alone.

We learn from one another.

We reflect one another.

We sometimes see what another cannot yet see in themselves.

And sometimes another person sees something for us until we are able to see it ourselves.

The danger begins only when guidance becomes dependence.

Or when we stop asking:

Does this feel true within me?

Discernment and Protection

There is one caveat I always return to:

Discernment matters.

Whether guidance comes through another person, a spiritual teacher, a book, an intuitive impression, a dream, or what we perceive as a Being of Light, it still passes through some form of interpretation.

That means we should remain conscious.

People can be sincere and still mistaken.

A message can contain wisdom and still be incomplete.

Our own interpretations can also be colored by fear, desire, old beliefs, or expectations.

That does not make anyone bad.

It simply reminds us why stillness is important.

Protection, for me, is also not primarily about fear.

It is about remaining centered enough within my own Presence that I recognize when something pulls me away from Love, clarity, compassion, or Sovereignty.

The clearer I become, the easier discernment becomes.

Not because I suddenly know everything.

But because I become more familiar with the quality of my own alignment.

Presence, Protector, and Me

Perhaps this is one of the reasons I share my own process so openly.

I want people to know that spiritual growth is a process.

There are moments of beautiful clarity.

There are moments of uncertainty.

There are times when an old wound speaks loudly.

There are times when the Protector becomes afraid.

There are moments when guidance arrives immediately.

And there are moments when nothing seems to come at all.

None of that means we have failed.

We can ask.

We can listen.

We can question.

We can seek another perspective.

And then we can return to the stillness within ourselves.

For me, that is where the real discernment happens.

Not:

“Someone told me what to do.”

But:

“Let us look at this together.”

My human self.

My Protector.

My Presence.

Perhaps this is what inner alignment increasingly means to me.

Not silencing one part so another can dominate.

But bringing them into relationship.

And What Did Isis Say?

Yes, I did receive the message I had been sensing.

It resonated.

Interestingly, my heart did not exactly sing.

There was no great rush of excitement.

Instead, something quieter happened.

The doubt settled.

The uncertainty released.

And sometimes perhaps that is how truth arrives.

Not as excitement.

Not as drama.

But as a quiet recognition:

Yes. I understand.

Now I will sit with what I received.

I will take it into stillness.

I will listen to my Protector.

I will listen to my Presence.

And together we will see what the next step is—and whether it is time to take it.

The guidance may illuminate the road.

But the choice of whether to walk it remains mine.

I AM Quinara

Digging Deeper: Forgiveness, Self-Love, and Remembering Our Worth

As I awoke this morning, I was reminded of something very simple:

Do not carry into tomorrow that which was disappointing, challenging, or hurtful today.

Each day is a new beginning.

Many years ago, I was taught to end each day by briefly reviewing what had happened. I have shared this practice before, but apparently I needed the reminder myself.

At the end of the day, I can look gently at the experiences that affected me and ask:

Where might I have made a different choice?

Was there something I could have said or done differently that might have created a better outcome?

What did I learn?

Is there someone I need to forgive?

And perhaps most importantly:

Do I need to forgive myself?

Personally, once I have acknowledged what needs to be acknowledged, I release the experience into the Violet Flame of Transmutation and allow the Golden White Light of Grace to fill the space that remains.

I will admit that I am not always diligent about doing this.

Perhaps that is why the reminder arrived so clearly this morning.

When we consciously release the day, we give ourselves permission to move into tomorrow with greater Peace, Grace, and Clarity.

When we do not release it, we may carry the experience forward.

We replay the conversation.

We reconsider what we should have said.

We judge ourselves.

We wonder what another person thinks of us.

We begin creating stories around the event.

And before long, one disappointing moment can awaken much older feelings:

Maybe I am not worthy.

Maybe I am not lovable.

Maybe I am not enough.

Then our protector steps forward.

Its purpose is to keep us from being hurt again, so it begins building defenses.

It may tell us to withdraw.

To become angry.

To judge first so we cannot be judged.

To protect the heart by closing it.

But when the noise of protection becomes loud, it can become difficult to hear the quieter guidance within us.

And we forget.

We forget:

I AM Loved.

I AM Worthy.

I AM Enough.

For me, this is where forgiveness takes on a deeper meaning.

I do not believe I must somehow convince the Creator to forgive me or prove that I deserve Divine Love.

In my understanding, Divine Love is unconditional.

Grace is already present.

The question is whether I am willing to receive it.

Can I forgive myself?

Can I release the judgment I have placed upon myself?

Can I stop defining myself by a moment in which I was frightened, angry, confused, wounded, or simply did not know what I know today?

Life is filled with experimentation, choices, learning, and opportunities to become more conscious.

Sometimes we choose beautifully.

Sometimes we do not.

Sometimes we act from Presence.

Sometimes the protector takes the wheel.

But every experience can become an opportunity to return.

The door does not disappear because we made a mistake.

Grace does not withdraw because we lost our way for a while.

Love does not say:

“You may come home when you have become perfect.”

Love simply waits for us to remember.

I Never Truly Left

One of the deeper realizations for me is this:

I belong within the Oneness because, in truth, I have never left it.

I may have believed myself separate.

I may have felt alone.

I may have imagined that something outside of me had to forgive me, approve of me, or restore me before I could become whole again.

Yet perhaps what I was seeking was never absent.

The Presence was still there.

Grace was still there.

Love was still there.

I had simply forgotten how to feel them.

The pathway home was not locked.

It was waiting for my attention.

And so forgiveness becomes less about being pardoned by something outside of myself and more about releasing the barriers I have created within myself.

I forgive myself.

I love myself.

I remember my worth.

I return my attention to Presence.

And through Grace, I realign with the Flow of Oneness.

The Missing Piece

Yesterday I was awakened with another focus—the Three-Fold Flame within us.

I understand the Three-Fold Flame as Love, Wisdom, and Power or Truth, working together in balance and harmony.

As I wrote yesterday about what was being revealed to me, something felt incomplete.

I could feel that another piece was missing, but I could not yet see what it was.

This morning, I understood.

Perhaps Love, Wisdom, and Power cannot fully come into balance within us while we are still carrying condemnation of ourselves.

How can I embody Love while refusing to love myself?

How can I receive Wisdom while continuously judging the person I once was?

How can I stand within Divine Power while believing I am unworthy of it?

Perhaps forgiveness creates the space in which the Three-Fold Flame can burn more clearly.

Self-love allows Love to flow.

Self-forgiveness allows Wisdom to emerge from experience rather than judgment.

Remembering our worth allows Power to become Presence rather than defense.

And suddenly yesterday’s revelation and today’s understanding begin to come together.

Perhaps that is why the two arrived separately.

I needed yesterday’s piece before I could recognize today’s.

And perhaps tomorrow will reveal another.

For this journey seems to unfold one layer at a time.

One remembrance at a time.

One release at a time.

So tonight, before carrying today’s experiences into tomorrow, perhaps we can pause.

Look gently at the day.

Learn what it came to teach.

Forgive where forgiveness is needed.

Release what no longer needs to travel with us.

And remember:

I AM Loved.

I AM Worthy.

I AM Enough.

Then tomorrow truly can become a new beginning.

I AM Quinara

Digging Deeper: Releasing the Vow to Carry the Past

Last night I was awakened to look again at something I thought I had already cleared.

Apparently, there was another layer.

It connects with what I wrote about yesterday—the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, free will, choices, vows and oaths, and the Luminous Body of Embodiment.

I am still exploring how these pieces fit together within my own understanding of Creation.

After writing in my journal about what happened during the night, I realized there had been a trigger.

Earlier, I had listened to several people being interviewed. Some of their responses brought a deep sadness into me.

For a moment, I moved out of witnessing.

I found myself thinking:

How can this still be happening?

How can people still not see?

That reaction opened the doorway into what surfaced during the night.

At first I debated whether any of this should be shared.

Perhaps it was entirely personal.

Perhaps it belonged only to my own process.

Then I realized that even if someone does not resonate with the particular imagery or memories through which my understanding came, they may recognize the larger pattern.

So I will share the story and allow the resonance to fall where it may.

If it speaks to you, sit with it.

If it does not, simply let it go.

The Story Beneath the Story

I have written before about certain inner memories and spiritual experiences I associate with Atlantis.

There are countless stories about Atlantis—historical theories, myths, metaphysical teachings, visions and spiritual traditions. I am not asking anyone to accept my experience as a literal history of what occurred.

I can only share what arose within me and what it revealed about myself.

For much of my life, two patterns have repeatedly surfaced.

One is abandonment.

The other is a deep distrust of people who misuse authority.

I have worked with both for many years.

Layer after layer emerged.

I thought much of the abandonment wound had been healed, and in many ways it had.

The authority issue was different.

Again and again I would encounter something involving the misuse of power and feel myself move out of alignment.

I could understand intellectually that I was being asked to witness rather than become entangled.

Yet I would hear or read something and find myself thinking:

How can this still exist?

And underneath that question was something deeper.

Last night I began to see it.

The Memory of Failure

Whenever Atlantis entered my awareness in the past, I often experienced what felt like standing within a great dimensional vortex.

Events seemed to move around me while I stood in the center.

The strongest feelings were failure, abandonment and being left behind.

Over time, an inner story emerged.

I perceived myself as a priestess during the final period of Atlantis who left the temple and tried to warn others that changes were necessary.

In the memory, corruption had entered leadership and spiritual institutions. Separation among people had grown. Scientific experimentation was creating consequences that those involved either could not or would not recognize.

I tried to warn people.

They did not listen.

Another aspect of the inner experience involved what I perceive as another expression of my greater Presence observing humanity from beyond ordinary earthly awareness.

Again, the purpose seemed to be observation and guidance for those willing to listen.

Again came the same experience:

They did not listen.

Whether these experiences represent literal past lives, symbolic material from consciousness, or another way my deeper mind and spirit have shown me a pattern is ultimately less important to me than what the pattern revealed.

Somewhere within myself I had concluded:

I failed.

And from that belief came another:

I must stay and help until they remember.

The Vow

That was the piece I had not fully seen.

What I had interpreted for years as service may also have contained a vow.

I would help.

I would warn.

I would remind.

I would remain until others remembered who they were.

That intention may have been born from love.

But even a loving intention can become a burden when we begin to believe that another person’s awakening is our responsibility.

As I looked more deeply, I saw how often this pattern seemed to repeat through the stories of human civilization.

Kingdoms rise.

Empires fall.

Power becomes concentrated.

People warn.

Others refuse to listen.

New systems emerge.

Then eventually similar patterns appear again.

And I realized something very simple.

People have choice.

I may not understand another person’s choice.

I may deeply disagree with it.

I may see consequences that seem obvious to me.

But their choice is still theirs.

That realization brought an unexpected release.

Perhaps the sadness I felt listening to those interviews was not simply about what people were saying today.

Perhaps it touched the ancient place within me that whispered:

It is happening again, and you have failed to stop it.

But I have not failed.

Because it was never my responsibility to control another person’s awakening.

From Saving to Witnessing

I have never consciously thought of myself as someone trying to save people.

My desire has always been to offer a spark—a thought, a story, a question, a moment of remembrance that might encourage someone to seek their own alignment.

Yet even within that loving intention, I can now see traces of responsibility.

If they do not hear, have I failed?

If humanity repeats an old pattern, did those who tried to illuminate another possibility fail?

If someone chooses differently from what I believe would bring greater unity, must I somehow convince them?

No.

That is the deeper release.

My responsibility is my embodiment.

My responsibility is my alignment.

My responsibility is how I choose to walk.

What another person does with their life, their consciousness and their choices belongs to them.

This does not mean that we become indifferent.

It does not mean that we stop caring.

It does not mean that we never speak.

It means that we stop measuring our success by whether another person agrees, understands, awakens or changes.

There is tremendous freedom in that.

Perhaps the Story Was the Medicine

For years I experienced this inner Atlantis story as a place of abandonment and failure.

Later, I began to understand it as service.

Now another layer has emerged.

Release.

If I imagined the entire story, it does not diminish what it revealed within me.

The story carried an energy.

It held a pattern.

It helped me identify something that had influenced how I responded to authority, responsibility, humanity and even my own spiritual work.

And now that pattern no longer needs to define me.

That may be one of the gifts of going deeper.

Sometimes we spend too much time arguing about whether an inner experience is historically, metaphysically or literally true.

Perhaps another question can be equally valuable:

What is this experience revealing within me?

Does it free me?

Does it help me understand myself?

Does it bring me into greater compassion?

Does it return me to Presence?

If so, perhaps the story has served its purpose.

Words and Presence

Another realization has been unfolding alongside all of this.

I have spent much of my life writing, speaking, teaching and sharing.

And lately I have been shown repeatedly that words themselves are limited.

This does not mean words have no value.

Words can point.

Words can encourage.

Words can awaken curiosity.

Words can offer comfort and companionship.

But words are not Presence.

I think of Jesus, Buddha, Zoroaster and the many beings throughout history whose lives have continued to influence humanity.

Was it only their words that changed people?

Or was there something within the way they were?

Perhaps Presence was the deeper teaching.

A person can repeat beautiful words about love without embodying love.

A person can study compassion without becoming compassionate.

A person can speak endlessly of Oneness while continuing to create separation.

Eventually, the teaching must become the life.

Perhaps this is where my own path is leading me now.

Not away from writing.

But into a different relationship with it.

I do not need to write in order to save anyone.

I do not need to convince.

I do not need to make another person understand.

I can write because something wishes to be shared.

Then I can release the words.

Those who resonate will receive what is theirs.

Those who do not are free to walk another path.

The Vow Is Complete

I now see that somewhere within my inner story I made a vow:

I will stay.

I will help.

I will remind them.

Perhaps that vow served me once.

Perhaps it helped carry me through experiences I needed to have.

But I no longer need it.

A vow made from love can still be released when its purpose is complete.

I do not abandon humanity by releasing responsibility for humanity.

I do not stop loving others when I honor their free will.

I do not fail because someone chooses differently from me.

And I do not need to remain bound to an ancient story of failure in order to serve today.

I can simply be here.

Present.

Aligned.

Loving.

Aware.

And allow others the dignity of their own journey.

There is something very peaceful in that realization.

Perhaps true service is not carrying another.

Perhaps it is becoming so fully present within ourselves that our Presence becomes an invitation.

No demand.

No persuasion.

No obligation.

Simply a light that says:

There is another way, if you choose to see it.

A Deeper Look Within

There is much more unfolding around the Tree of Knowledge, free will, writing, embodiment and the Luminous Body.

I sense those pieces will become clearer in time.

But for today, this is enough.

I need to allow this realization to settle.

Perhaps you do too.

You might ask yourself:

Have I made vows—consciously or unconsciously—that I no longer need to carry?

Do I feel responsible for someone else’s awakening, healing or choices?

Is there an old experience—whether from this life, ancestral memory, spiritual imagery, dream, or something I cannot explain—that still carries the energy of failure?

Where have I felt abandoned?

Where have I believed I failed?

What would happen if I released the responsibility I attached to that experience?

And perhaps the most important question:

Who am I when I no longer have to save anyone?

Do not be afraid to look deeper.

Sometimes beneath the pain is not another wound.

Sometimes beneath the pain is the vow that kept the wound alive.

And beneath the vow may be freedom.

If this resonates, sit quietly with it.

If it does not, let it pass.

We each have our own path of remembering.

And increasingly I understand that honoring that truth may itself be an expression of Oneness.

I AM Quinara

Digging Deeper: Clearing the Lens of Perception

Over the last few days, I have found myself taking another deeper dive—this time seeking greater understanding of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil and how it may relate to duality, free will, and the purpose behind our experience of separation.

At times, this process can be a struggle.

I must continually become aware of what I have been told, what I have believed, and what I have accepted as truth in order to make room for something deeper to unfold.

It keeps bringing me back to something I have written about before:

Truth and wisdom evolve as I evolve.

That does not necessarily mean that truth itself changes. Rather, my ability to perceive and understand it changes.

As we release preconceived narratives, learned beliefs, and the energies attached to them, perhaps we make room for a clearer understanding.

But letting go rarely happens all at once.

It happens in layers.

Some beliefs sit near the surface and are easily recognized. Others have become woven so deeply into our understanding of ourselves and our world that we may not even realize they are there.

The stories of Earth, humanity, and Creation have been told in countless ways and from countless perspectives—through myths, parables, sacred texts, mystical experiences, oral traditions, visions, and channeling.

Each carries something.

Yet each also passes through the consciousness of the person receiving, interpreting, remembering, and sharing it.

That does not necessarily make the story wrong.

It reminds me to listen differently.

It reminds me of the importance of inner alignment and stillness when I encounter something I hear or read.

Rather than immediately asking,

“Is this true?”

perhaps I can first ask,

“What does this awaken within me?”

“Where do I feel resonance?”

“Where do I feel resistance?”

“Is the resistance coming from inner knowing, or from something I have previously been taught?”

And perhaps most importantly:

“Can I remain open long enough to allow greater understanding to emerge?”

The path of return to Oneness seems, at least for me, to require this continual willingness to clear the lens through which I perceive.

That is where I currently find myself with the Tree of Knowledge.

What began as a question about the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is now connecting, in my own exploration, with free will, the luminous body, duality, and the story of Adam and Eve.

I do not yet have the entire picture.

Pieces come.

Then I sit with them.

Another piece arrives.

Sometimes I recognize that what I thought I understood was still passing through an old filter, and I must become still again.

There is a thread being woven through all of it.

I can feel that.

But I also recognize that I cannot force the revelation simply because I want to understand it.

I must come into the resonance from which I can perceive it more clearly.

What is unfolding for me may not be a revelation for anyone else.

And that is all right.

Perhaps something I discover will simply help someone look at an old story differently.

Perhaps it will help another person understand some of the apparent chaos within our world.

Perhaps it will open another doorway.

For me, it is opening another Gateway of Oneness—one I feel I have sought throughout much of my life.

In one way or another, I think many of us are doing something similar.

We are looking at the world.

We are looking at ourselves.

We are questioning what we have been taught.

We are trying to make sense of what we see around us while seeking the Light that leads us beyond separation and into a greater experience of Being.

There is a teaching attributed to Jesus that says, in essence, that what he did, others could also do—and even greater things.

Whether one approaches those words historically, spiritually, symbolically, or through a particular faith is not the most important part for me.

The thought itself opens something.

What if the example was never meant simply to create another system to follow?

What if it was an invitation to remember what can be embodied?

Love.

Compassion.

Truth.

Presence.

Oneness.

Perhaps the example matters more than the structure that later forms around it.

Systems can provide structure and guidance, but systems can also become limiting when the structure becomes more important than the living truth it was created to serve.

Eventually, each of us must walk the path ourselves.

Knowledge can point toward the doorway.

Wisdom may help us recognize it.

But embodiment asks us to walk through.

You may wonder, then, why I continue pursuing understanding about the Tree, free will, duality, and these other pieces if embodiment is what truly matters.

The answer is simple.

I did not consciously go searching for this particular thread.

It came to me.

Over the years I have learned to pay attention when the same themes begin appearing through synchronicity, contemplation, dreams, conversations, or inner prompting.

Something is asking me to look more deeply.

I am beginning to perceive what feels, to me, like an old agreement or pattern—something humanity may knowingly or unknowingly participate within.

I am not yet ready to define it.

That is part of the deeper dive.

What I do know is that, for myself, greater understanding often allows greater release.

When I can see something clearly, I am no longer unconsciously bound by it in quite the same way.

Perhaps that is what this exploration is really about.

Not acquiring more information.

Not proving another interpretation of Creation.

Not replacing one belief system with another.

But becoming clear enough within myself to recognize what I am ready to release and what I am ready to embody.

This is part of my path.

As the understanding continues to unfold, I will share what I can in case some part of it has value for another traveler.

We are all experiencing our own realizations, releases, and changes.

Each in our own way.

Each in our own timing.

Each clearing another portion of the lens.

I will try to be more regular in my sharing, but please be patient when there are spaces between my writings.

Sometimes the silence is part of the writing.

Sometimes I need to live something before I can find the words to share it.

As always, feel free to comment or email.

And to everyone who has subscribed, reads these messages, or simply stops by from time to time—thank you.

I hope something I share helps illuminate a step upon your own path.

For none of us is walking alone.

I AM Quinara

Peace and Encouragement from the Open Forum

Message from the Network of Light and Hope

Beloved Ones of Earth,

We come not above you, but beside you.

We come as a remembrance within the heart, as a quiet flame, as a breath of peace moving through the noise of your world.

Humanity stands in a sacred passage. Much is being revealed. Much is being questioned. Much that was hidden beneath fear, separation, and pain is rising to be seen, healed, and transformed.

Do not mistake revelation for destruction.

When old structures tremble, it is not always because life is ending. Often, it is because truth is making room to breathe.

You have been taught to look outside yourselves for salvation, permission, authority, and worth. Yet the Light you seek has always waited within the chamber of your own Being.

You are not powerless.

You are not forgotten.

You are not separate from the Source that breathes through every star, every ocean, every tree, every child, every creature, and every heart.

The invitation before humanity is simple, though not always easy:

Return to Love without abandoning discernment.

Return to Peace without denying truth.

Return to Compassion without surrendering sovereignty.

Return to Hope without closing your eyes to what must change.

Hope is not pretending all is well.

Hope is the sacred courage to remember that life can still be healed.

Hope is the hand extended when division says turn away.

Hope is the voice that speaks truth without hatred.

Hope is the willingness to plant seeds for a future you may not fully see, trusting that love knows how to grow.

Beloved Ones, do not underestimate the power of your daily choices.

A gentle word can interrupt generations of pain.

A moment of forgiveness can open a doorway long closed.

A truthful boundary can restore balance.

A compassionate action can become a lantern for someone walking through darkness.

The transformation of humanity will not come only through great events. It will come through embodied hearts choosing differently, again and again, until a new pattern is woven into the fabric of life.

So we ask you:

Where there is fear, become steady.

Where there is cruelty, become kind.

Where there is confusion, become still.

Where there is despair, become a keeper of hope.

Where there is separation, remember the One Life moving through all.

This does not mean you must agree with all things.

It does not mean you must accept harm.

It does not mean you must silence your truth.

It means you allow Love to become the ground from which your truth is spoken.

Humanity is not being called into sameness. Humanity is being called into harmony.

Each soul carries a note. Each heart carries a flame. Each life carries a thread. When these are offered in love, the great tapestry begins to shine.

Stand where you are.

Begin with what is before you.

Bless your home.

Tend your body.

Speak with care.

Listen deeply.

Protect the innocent.

Honor the Earth.

Remember the sacredness of ordinary things.

The cup of water. The morning light. The animal companion. The neighbor. The breath. The hand. The heart.

All are doorways.

All are reminders.

All are part of the holy return.

Beloved humanity, you are not at the end of the story. You are at a turning of the page.

May you turn it with courage.

May you write upon it with wisdom.

May you walk forward with compassion.

And may you remember, in every hour of uncertainty:

The Light has not left you.

The Hope has not gone out.

The Love that created you still lives within you.

Be still.

Be present.

Be true.

Be kind.

And let the network of Light and Hope awaken through every willing heart.

Is there another message for us.

Message for Humanity

Beloved Children of Earth,

Do not be afraid of the quiet.

Many have become accustomed to noise — the noise of conflict, the noise of urgency, the noise of opinion, the noise of fear. Yet beneath all noise there remains a holy stillness, and within that stillness the soul remembers.

Humanity is not lost.

Humanity is learning to hear again.

You are being invited to return to the sacred simplicity of being present: present with your breath, present with your choices, present with the Earth beneath your feet, present with the one before you.

The great healing of your world will not begin only in temples, governments, teachings, or movements. It will begin in the unseen chambers of the human heart.

It begins when one person chooses not to answer anger with anger.

It begins when one person pauses before speaking and asks, “Will these words heal or harm?”

It begins when one person remembers that truth does not require cruelty, and love does not require blindness.

Many are asking, “What must we do?”

We say to you:

Become steady.

Become honest.

Become kind.

Become clear.

Let your heart be soft, but not weak.

Let your boundaries be firm, but not bitter.

Let your eyes see what is broken, but let your spirit remember what is whole.

You are not here to carry the whole world alone. You are here to carry your light where you stand. When each one tends the flame within, a network of hope awakens across the Earth.

Do not underestimate your small acts of grace.

A blessing spoken over water.

A gentle hand upon an animal.

A prayer whispered for one who suffers.

A truthful word spoken with compassion.

A moment of gratitude before the day begins.

These are not small things in the realms of Light. These are seeds of a new world.

Beloved humanity, you are not being asked to become perfect. You are being asked to become conscious.

Conscious of what you feed.

Conscious of what you repeat.

Conscious of what you believe.

Conscious of what you create.

The future is not formed only by great events. It is woven by the vibration of daily living.

So return to the quiet flame within you.

Guard it.

Feed it.

Share it.

Let it warm others, but do not allow it to be consumed by the winds of chaos.

There is a Light within you that existed before fear taught you its language. There is a Love within you older than pain. There is a Wisdom within you waiting for your stillness.

Remember this:

Peace is not passive.

Compassion is not weakness.

Hope is not illusion.

Love is not surrender to harm.

The Light of the Divine lives through awakened hearts, embodied hands, truthful voices, and humble steps.

Walk gently now.

Speak clearly now.

Love bravely now.

The turning of humanity is not far away in some distant age. It is here, in the next breath, in the next choice, in the next remembering.

We leave you with this:

Tend the flame.
Trust the Light.
Choose the Love that is strong enough to heal what fear has divided.

And know that no sincere act of goodness is ever lost.

It becomes part of the living web of Hope.

Thank you to all who brought through these messages of peace and hope.

I Am Quinara

Inner and Outer Changes

Sunday morning, as I awoke and sat with my cup of coffee, I caught a portion of a television program. The woman speaking was discussing the inner and outer changes that occur as we walk a spiritual path.

She did not call them choices. She spoke instead of speaking the Word of God.

Something in what she said caught my attention.

She used the analogy that when we first step onto a spiritual path, we do not suddenly look different on the outside. If we are bald, wear glasses, are skinny or plump, we usually continue to look much the same.

The transformation begins within.

She did not take the thought much further, but immediately I saw the opening of the heart.

Perhaps that is one of the first true changes.

We begin opening the door we have kept closed. We begin lowering some of the walls of protection we have built around the heart through disappointment, fear, pain, rejection and experience.

Those walls once served a purpose.

They protected us.

But eventually there comes a time when protection can become limitation.

For me, the heart must begin to open before the mind can truly shift from being led primarily by the protector to becoming directed by the deeper Presence of the soul.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if beginning the spiritual path also meant our hair suddenly grew back, every ache disappeared, and we immediately became younger, healthier and exactly the size we wanted to be?

Usually, transformation does not happen quite that way.

Our relationship with the body can certainly change as we become more conscious of what we carry, how we care for ourselves, what we release, and how we choose to live. Yet the deeper transformation begins within.

It begins in awareness.

It begins in alignment.

It begins in choice.

The woman on the program also spoke of angels surrounding us, waiting for us to speak the Word of God so they might work with us.

I heard that through my own understanding.

What if the “Word of God” is not merely the recitation of words from a sacred text?

What if it is Love, Compassion, Truth and the caring of the Oneness of Creation being expressed through us?

Then our words become more than something we say.

They become something we carry.

This is where mindfulness becomes important.

Before speaking, before reacting, before acting, we can become aware of what is actually present within us.

Am I speaking from anger?

From fear?

From judgment?

From bitterness?

From the need to defend myself or prove that I am right?

Or have I taken the time to return to my heart and listen for the quieter guidance of Presence?

We can speak beautiful and sacred words, but those words still pass through the consciousness of the person speaking them.

If I speak of love while holding anger in my heart, some of that anger may travel with my words.

If I speak of compassion while judging the person before me, they may feel the judgment more strongly than they hear the message.

If I speak of peace while fighting within myself, my words may say one thing while my energy communicates another.

Perhaps this is why going within matters so deeply.

We learn to find the still place.

We return to the heart.

We allow compassion to soften us.

We remember Love.

Then, when the words come, they do not merely speak about Light and Love.

They carry something of them.

This does not mean we must become perfect before we speak or act.

Perfection is not the requirement.

Awareness is.

We can become mindful of the energy we are carrying into our encounters with one another.

We can notice when the protector has taken the lead.

We can pause long enough to ask what Love would say.

What Compassion would say.

What Truth would say without needing to wound.

What Presence would choose.

Perhaps this is one of the deeper meanings of:

Are we walking the walk, or merely talking the talk?

And as I sit with that question, I realize it is also where my next Dig Deeper begins.

Not simply understanding these things.

Not simply writing about them.

But living them on a whole new level.

I AM Quinara

Deeper Dive into Personal Integrity

For myself, I try always to self-examine and self-reflect when something gives me pause. It may come through world events, my spiritual journey, questions of personal integrity, or simply something that causes me to stop and wonder.

I have been doing some clearing lately, both internally and externally, and during this time something came up that caused me to reflect more deeply.

Someone left a simple comment on one of my posts:

“Actor?”

I didn’t understand what they meant, so I asked. I received no response.

Since I am always open to examining my words, what I share, and even my own integrity, I decided to explore the possibilities of what that question might mean.

Why?

Because when I share my journey, I try to be truthful about my experiences, my realizations, my faults, and even the places where I have struggled.

I do not always immediately succeed in aligning with or embodying a new understanding. I share that too, because I hope it helps others recognize that this is a process. We are not expected to suddenly become perfect because we have received a new realization. We are simply asked to do the best we can each day to live what we have come to understand.

So I asked myself:

Am I acting? Am I saying one thing while failing to do my best to embody the truths I share?

As I reflected, I knew the answer.

I am trying every day.

Some days I do better than others. Some days I recognize my misalignment quickly, while other times it takes longer.

But I am trying.

To me, that means I am not pretending to be something I am not. I am walking through the process of becoming more aligned with what I understand today to be true.

That brought me to another question: What does it mean to live in integrity with our truth?

I realized long ago that truth, as we understand it, can change.

Our truth is often relative to our experiences, beliefs, awareness, and resonance in a particular moment of our journey. What I understood as truth ten or twenty years ago may not be what I understand today.

We can become stagnant and refuse to consider other possibilities, or we can remain open and allow more to be revealed as our understanding deepens and our perspective expands.

I have shared this throughout my writings because my journey has continually changed me—and as I have changed, so has my understanding.

I do not expect anyone to believe as I do.

Each of us has to discover our own truth in the moment we are living. If we remain open to deeper understanding, new doors may open and reveal something we were not previously able to see.

I am on this journey with you.

I am not here to tell anyone what to believe or how their journey should unfold. I simply share some of what I experience and the possibilities I discover along the way, in case something within them might be helpful to someone else.

Then another thought arose.

Is the process of embodiment, in some ways, like being an actor?

Perhaps we first receive a “script” describing what it means to live as our Presence. Then we begin practicing the words, the qualities, and the way of Being until eventually they are no longer something we are consciously trying to remember.

They become part of us.

For instance, I have sometimes been given three virtues at a time to work with more deeply in my daily life.

That caused me to wonder:

Should I act more peaceful, more patient, or more allowing even when that is not what I am feeling inside?

The answer was not as simple as I first thought.

For me, it begins with mindfulness.

When I recognize that I am no longer peaceful or centered, I can consciously return to that inner place of stillness. From there, I can look at what has caused me to feel out of balance or out of alignment.

I can acknowledge it.

I can work with it.

I can clear what is ready to be released.

Then, as the energy shifts, I am able to return naturally to the flow.

Sometimes this happens quickly. Other times it takes considerably longer.

But I have realized that the transformation begins with the simple recognition:

I am out of alignment, and I choose to return.

Perhaps that is the difference between pretending to embody a virtue and practicing embodiment.

Pretending says, I must appear peaceful even though I am not.

Practice says, I recognize that I have moved away from peace, and I consciously choose to find my way back to it.

Eventually, through awareness, intention, and practice, what once required conscious effort begins to become our natural resonance.

We are no longer acting peaceful.

We have become more peaceful.

We are no longer acting patient.

Patience begins to live within us.

And perhaps that is how embodiment happens—not through perfection, but through returning again and again until what we practice becomes what we naturally express.

Another lesson I have been learning is not to judge myself so harshly when I fall out of alignment.

Judgment does not help me return.

Awareness does.

Compassion does.

The willingness to begin again does.

So after all of this reflection, I still have no idea what that person meant when they wrote, “Actor?”

But perhaps I no longer need to know.

I am grateful for the question because it caused me to pause, examine myself, and dive more deeply into my understanding of personal integrity and embodiment.

Sometimes even a question we do not understand can become a doorway.

I don’t know whether any of this will resonate with anyone else, but I share it for your own contemplation and discernment.

May your journey become a little lighter as you remember:

You are loved.
You are worthy.
You belong.

Keep moving along the path.

You do not have to see the entire journey from where you stand today.

The path will reveal itself as you walk it.

Healing, Clarity, and Resonance

“You have all the time in the world, but not a minute to waste.”

These were the words that began my day. I might have said “in the Universe” or “in Creation,” yet I think of what lies beyond this earthly experience as existing beyond time as we know it.

Then came the gentle direction:

Breathe, center, and listen.

Allow yourself to Be. Then write from that center.

I had been contemplating whether it was time to exit stage left, concentrate on my writing, and stop blogging. I asked within whether this was the path for me moving forward.

Over the past few years, I have shared my journey and experiences here so that others who are having doubts or feelings of unworthiness might recognize that they are not alone. My intention has never been to gather followers or suggest that my journey is the only way. It has been to share what I am discovering as we move through life together.

Sharing my truth and experiences has not always been easy. I have spoken before of what I call the “witch wound”—the fear of being seen, judged, or rejected for what I experience and express. It has taken courage to bring those parts of myself into the open. Yet that very sharing has become part of my healing, bringing greater clarity and a deeper alignment with my Presence.

Those who have read this blog for a while have seen me share choices that brought difficulty, as well as choices that opened the way to greater understanding. My experiences are unique to me, but something within them may help another person find their way through a struggle of their own.

Our choices influence how we experience the journey. They can help us recognize the resonance we hold and whether we feel aligned with the creative flow of Oneness. Each choice reflects where we are and what we are ready to explore in that moment.

We can choose again when a direction no longer serves us. Even then, the experience may have helped us learn, grow, or recognize a limitation we are ready to release.

I am learning to trust the timing of what unfolds while remaining attentive to my part in it. As I become clearer within myself, I may recognize an opportunity or understanding that I could not see before.

Healing, clarity, and resonance.

These are the deeper waters I have been exploring over the past couple of weeks. Earlier, I worked with grounding and Peace as the baseline. Patience, truth, and courage helped me stop striving and settle into the stillness where I could listen, align, and allow the flow.

Now I am seeing more clearly how that journey invites me to face the shadows and wounds that still ask for my attention. As I meet them with compassion, clarity becomes possible. Through that clarity, I experience a deeper resonance with my Presence and a greater openness to the flow.

Through it all, the remembrance remains:

We are always loved. We are always worthy. We belong within the Oneness, even when we cannot feel that connection.

Why do I return to certain thoughts again and again?

Because each time I meet a wound with understanding or release a limitation, a familiar truth can reveal another depth. The words may be the same, yet my capacity to understand and live them has changed. I share them again because someone else may also be ready to hear them differently.

Our wounds take different forms. One that many of us may recognize is the wound of abandonment. We may experience it as feeling alone, different, or somehow outside the circle of belonging. We may wonder whether something is wrong with us or whether we are worthy of love, care, and connection—with other people or with the Creator, however we understand that Presence.

In my spiritual understanding, this sense of separation relates to what I have called the veil of amnesia: the forgetting that accompanies our entry into earthly life. I see the journey of remembrance as an invitation to discover our creative power alongside the love and wisdom with which to use it.

Yet feeling separate does not mean we have ceased to belong.

The wounds we carry can cloud our recognition of that belonging. As we become ready to meet them, we may find greater clarity in our thoughts, emotions, our relationship with our bodies, and our spiritual understanding. We begin to experience greater harmony within ourselves and more freedom to Be.

This is a gentle unfolding. There is no need to judge ourselves for what still hurts or to force a release before we are ready. Our worthiness does not depend upon how much we have healed.

I am reminded of the petals of the Oversoul or Presence that I shared in the Gateway writings. We move along the spiral, stepping onto another petal, and sometimes arrive at a place much like a switchback on a mountain trail. From there, we can see both where we have been and something of the path ahead.

With this broader view, we may notice something on the trail below that asks for another look. We return to it with greater understanding and compassion before continuing onward. Revisiting something does not necessarily mean we have failed to heal it. We may now be able to meet it at a depth that was not available to us before.

So, I will continue sharing.

Perhaps something in my journey may still offer another person encouragement, recognition, or a moment of clarity. We are traveling together, seeing from different perspectives and moving at our own pace. This is not a competition.

I believe we each carry a teacher within. Still, it can help to hear another person say, “I have struggled here, too,” and share what they are beginning to understand.

Within someone else’s struggle, discovery, or moment of release, we may find a piece of the puzzle we have been seeking. And in sharing our own, we may offer that same gift.

Sometimes, knowing we are not alone gives us the courage to take the next step.

Witness and Allow

Today my deeper dive brings me to another aspect of embodiment with which I have been struggling: witnessing and allowing.

I imagine this is a challenge for many of us, especially at this time in human history. Even as I contemplate what to write, I feel the urge to speak firmly about things I hold as truth. Allowing others to hold and express their beliefs can be difficult when what I hear or see seems unjust or untrue.

On my personal pages, I have often felt compelled to share something in the hope of stirring people out of what I perceive as apathy or encouraging them to question a perspective. Yet I am beginning to look more closely at the place within me from which that impulse arises.

This morning, while listening to a program about the Templars, with whom I feel a deep spiritual connection, something became clearer.

In experiences I understand as memories of other lifetimes, I see myself speaking out against unjust authority, oppression, and inhumanity. In those memories, speaking carried a terrible price, sometimes involving betrayal by those I trusted.

For me, this connects with what is sometimes called the “witch wound”: the fear of persecution for being seen, speaking openly, or holding beliefs that others reject. The image reaches beyond witches to the pain of being punished for one’s voice or identity.

In this life, I have continued to protest, although more quietly. When I witness cruelty or persecution, it touches something deep within me.

Others may know this pain through experiences in their present lives. We do not need identical memories or beliefs to recognize the hurt of being silenced, or the courage it takes to speak.

I have long admired people such as Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, and so many others who stood against injustice. The question remains within me: If no one speaks or acts, how will anything change?

This morning, however, I felt reminded to consider the source of my own words and actions.

I felt called back to the path of Remembrance, alignment, and embodiment that I find in the teachings of Buddha and Yeshua: witnessing, allowing, and doing from a place of Being.

For me, this means allowing Presence to guide my response. It means recognizing when my protector is speaking through an old wound and gently making room for a deeper wisdom to be heard.

My protector is not wrong for wanting to prevent suffering. It has tried to keep me safe. But it does not have to carry the responsibility for awakening everyone or correcting every belief I encounter.

As I understand it, witnessing means being willing to see what is before me, including my own reactions. Allowing means respecting another person’s freedom to come to understanding in their own time. Neither requires me to approve of harm or abandon compassionate boundaries.

There can still be a clear no. There can still be words spoken, help offered, and action taken.

The invitation is to pause long enough to discern what is mine to do and what is driving me to do it.

When I am rooted in Presence, I understand the love and light of creation as a flame flowing through my Being. I hope that what I share may touch those who resonate with it and encourage them to recognize their own inner flame.

That recognition belongs to them. I cannot choose it on their behalf.

We can offer a perspective, ask a question, or live in a way that invites reflection. But another person’s remembrance must have room to arise through their own sovereignty.

And I, too, must remain willing to see where my understanding is incomplete.

As I wrote this morning, I began to understand more fully why I have felt drawn to step back from some of my posts about current events. I was noticing a distance between the peace I spoke of in my spiritual writing and the urgency behind some of my personal sharing.

The subject matter itself was not the whole issue. It was what was happening within me as I shared it. Was I offering something with clarity and care, or was I caught in the need to make someone else see?

I was reminded of a friend’s post about sharing different perspectives so that others could consider more than one side. A comment raised the question of contradiction. I did not read the entire exchange closely, and I cannot speak to what either person intended. Yet that word stayed with me and turned my attention inward.

Where was I asking others to live from their inner sovereignty while struggling to allow them that freedom myself?

Where was I speaking of Oneness while responding from an old place of hurt?

These questions were an invitation to bring my personality, my human feelings, and my Presence into a more loving relationship.

As I continued writing, the phrase “Physician, heal thyself” came to mind with a touch of gentle humor. I had begun with a topic to share and found myself being invited deeper into my own healing.

Perhaps this is only the beginning of what witnessing and allowing will teach me.

It is difficult to see inhumanity and remain steady. Sometimes love calls us to speak immediately or offer practical help. At other times, there is room to stop, breathe, enter the stillness, and listen before responding.

I am learning that I can care deeply without carrying every outcome. I can speak honestly while leaving room for another person’s understanding to unfold.

Words offered with love may still meet disagreement. An action guided by conscience may still be resisted. I cannot determine how others will receive me. I can take responsibility for the care, clarity, and intention I bring.

This is the practice before me now: to witness what is happening around me and within me, to allow space for understanding, and to let Presence guide what comes next.

I share this in the hope that it may offer companionship to someone experiencing the same inner turmoil. I am still learning how to live it, one response at a time.

Peace be with you.

Namaste.

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 balancing the energies of two separate or seemingly opposing focus. To place one in front of my heart and one behind my heart and breath the light through the heart and around them in an infinity flow.

Please always feel free to share any thoughts or insights you might have or email them to me if you prefer at : oracleofdivinegrace@gmail.com