Messages From Beyond

A Call to Awareness There comes a moment in every seeker’s journey when the veil thins, and the unseen becomes seen. It is not always sudden, nor is it always gentle. It is an unfolding, a realization that you were always meant to see the world differently. This is about that unfolding, the reclamation of power, energy, vision, and the self. The path of spiritual and energetic awareness is not given lightly. It is an initiation into a deeper level of knowing, a sacred responsibility, and a rare sovereignty that few can claim. To see the world for what it is, to feel its undercurrents, to sense what is unspoken, hidden, or denied, this is a gift that has been etched into your very being. And with this gift, you are called not just to see, but to master yourself. This wisdom applies to both divine masculine & divine feminine. it’s not about taking but restoring balance where energy was lost. both hold sacred power but true sovereignty comes from self-mastery, not control. The reclamation is a return to that truth. The Unfolding of Power – Seeing Beyond the Surface The realization began with discernment, awareness, and the undeniable sensation of energy moving within. Whether through visions, deep knowing, or interactions with people whose very presence triggered something within, there was an understanding that this was not just intuition, this was an innate and powerful gift. This is the power of discernment, the ability to see beyond words, beyond facades, beyond masks. It is an intuitive intelligence that does not rely on logic alone but feels, senses, and knows. This is a rare and profound power, the ability to read energy as if it were written in plain language, to detect truth from deception, light from shadow. And yet, this power is not only external, it is also internal. The ability to perceive others’ illusions is a reflection of one’s own mastery over the self. Those who can see deception, manipulation, and spiritual interference are often those who have overcome it within themselves. This is the true Reclamation, not the power over others, but the power over oneself. The Magnetic Pull, Sexual Energy and Mastery Another realization surfaced, the power of sexual energy, allure, and its mastery. Sexual energy is not simply desire or attraction it is raw life force, the divine creative current, the essence of manifestation. To be highly magnetic is to command energy, to draw others toward you whether intentionally or not. But magnetism without mastery can be a liability. Many stumble because they do not understand how to control the energy they emit, nor how to shield themselves from energy that is drawn to them. True mastery does not mean repressing or denying desire but rather learning how to direct, contain, and utilize it intentionally. This is the art of holding power without spilling it. Whether through sensual energy, intellectual magnetism, or spiritual force, the lesson remains the same!! energy must be wielded, not wasted. The Reflection in Others, The Mirror of the Self One of the most profound realizations was that what is perceived in others is often what already exists within. There was a moment of deep insight the realization that the energy felt from another person, the allure, the seduction, the mystery, the pull on the sacral chakra was not necessarily their doing, but a reflection of the energy already present within. This is one of the most misunderstood aspects of energetic awareness. Many believe that they are under the influence of another’s magic, charm, or power, when in reality, they are simply encountering a reflection of their own magnetism and potency. • The sensation of being drawn in is often a recognition of what has always existed inside yourself. • The feeling of enchantment, or even spiritual seduction, is an invitation to own what has been unclaimed within. • The perception of external manipulation or energy work may actually be one’s own unconscious energy moving toward recognition. To realize this is to become immune to illusion and to reclaim one’s own divinity. Ancestral Connection, Wisdom Passed Down Then came a vision, a moment of clarity that revealed how spiritual awareness and wisdom are often woven into family lines, even if never openly discussed. A seemingly simple gift of rose quartz was more than it appeared, it was a transmission, an acknowledgment, a passing of energy from one knowing soul to another. The realization that generational awareness existed in the family line made it clear. • This connection has always been there. The knowledge was always present, even if it was not openly spoken of. • The gift was not random. It was a moment of recognition, a confirmation that this path of awareness was always meant to be walked. • Ancestral wisdom moves through different expressions. It is not always found in sacred texts, it is in the lived experience, the unspoken understanding, and the energy that lingers through generations. This realization was significant because it showed that spiritual inheritance is real. • Knowledge, discernment, and spiritual awareness are passed down in ways that defy logic. • The journey of awakening is not a solo act, it is a continuation of something much older. • Every insight, every realization, is a remembering. To hold that stone and think of the Ace of Cups was to recognize that an initiation had already begun. The Divine Reclamation, Returning to the Self All of this, the discernment, the sexual energy, the visions, the ancestral connections, leads to one singular truth. You were never meant to be like the others. You were always meant to see more, feel more, know more. The Reclamation is not about gaining something external. It is about remembering what was always yours. It is about taking back yourself from where it was left in time and space. • Energy, so it is no longer drained by those who do not deserve it. • Power, so it is wielded with wisdom

There once was an egg, round and sleek, Who dreamed every night, week after week. By day, it was humble, it rolled and it rocked, But by night, oh by night, its dreams it unlocked! It dreamed of lands both far and near, Where the skies were bright and the stars sang clear. And as it slept, the egg would see, The wonders of all it could someday be. Dream One: The Egg of Light and Shade One night, it dreamed of swirling hues, Of black and white and cosmic blues. Its shell became sleek, its form full of power, Standing tall in a shadowy tower. It shimmered with light, both gold and grey, Balancing the dark in a mystical way. “Is this what I’ll be?” the egg did wonder, “A keeper of balance, of lightning and thunder?” Dream Two: The Egg of the Stars The next night came, and the egg took flight, To a land where galaxies gleamed so bright. Dressed in a suit of glowing beams, It danced on planets and bathed in streams. The stars were its friends, the cosmos its play, And Eggman shone brighter than night turns to day. “Is this my fate?” it mused with delight, “To roam the heavens, a star in the night?” Dream Three: The Fairy Egg of the Mushrooms On the third night, the dream was sweet, With rings of mushrooms beneath its feet. Egg fairies fluttered and whispered with glee, “Come join our magic, oh Egg of the Tree!” Its shell was adorned with colours galore, It sparkled and glimmered like jewels from the core. “Is this my destiny, oh what a scene, To be part of a world so fairy and green?” Dream Four: The Egg of Cities Afar Another dream showed Eggman a place, Of neon lights and a cyberpunk space. Its suit was metallic, its eyes glowed bright, As it soared through a city of endless night. Holograms danced, and Eggman was king, A ruler of tech and a futuristic thing. “Could this be me, so modern and grand, The Egg who rules this shimmering land?” Dream Five: The Egg of the Swirling Sky One evening, the egg dreamt of a land, Where the skies swirled wild, both grand and unplanned. It wore a suit of patterns divine, Its shell was a canvas, each line intertwined. The wind sang a song, the stars danced in kind, The Egg became art, a muse for the mind. “Could this be my calling,” it wondered with glee, “To inspire the world with creativity?” Dream Six: The Egg of the Crystal Spires The next night, the egg saw towering peaks, Crystals that glistened, and streams that speak. Its shell turned radiant, its aura aglow, It wandered a world where magic would flow. Egg fairies and sprites twirled all around, In this shimmering land where no sorrow was found. “Is this where I’ll be, a beacon of light? A guardian of magic, both ancient and bright?” Dream Seven: The Egg of the Neon City Another night, the egg did explore, A futuristic city with a cyberpunk core. Its suit glowed bright, with gears and steel, In a world where machines and humans feel. It soared through the streets on neon streams, A digital world born straight from dreams. “Am I destined to lead this tech-savvy sphere? A hero of progress, innovation, and cheer?” Dream Eight: The Enchanted Forest Egg The egg then dreamed of a forest divine, With mushroom rings and a magical shine. Its shell was adorned with moss and dew, A creature of wonder in a land fresh and new. Fairies giggled, and whispers were sung, As Eggman danced where mushrooms were sprung. “Could this be my path, to live free and fair, In a whimsical world beyond all compare?” Dream Nine: The Cosmic Egg of Stardust One night, it dreamed of the stars again, But this time, it travelled past worlds of men. It floated in stardust, a galaxy’s muse, With planets and comets, in shimmering hues. Its shell became vast, a map of the skies, Reflecting the cosmos in its infinite size. “Could this be my fate,” it thought as it gleamed, “To be the cosmos’ soul, as I’ve always dreamed?” Dream Ten: The Egg of the Fairy Ring The final dream was soft and sweet, A mushroom ring beneath its feet. Its shell turned golden, its heart aglow, As it basked in magic where dreams freely flow. It danced with joy in the faerie’s land, Where beauty and wonder went hand in hand. “Perhaps my destiny lies not in one sphere, But in dreaming and dancing with no fear.” The Morning Light Each morning the egg would awake with a start, Its dreams etched deeply into its heart. It wondered aloud, “Which path will I take? What kind of future will I create?” Though it didn’t yet know, one thing was clear, The Egg was a dreamer, with nothing to fear. For each new night brought wonders anew, A thousand realities, and each one true. So dream on, dear Egg, your time will come, To find the world where you truly belong. And when you do, you’ll look back and say, “I dreamed it all, and it started that day.” The End

In a valley so wide, where the green grasses grew, Lived a wolf who was lonely and didn’t know who. His name was young Wally, a wolf with a dream, To be part of a flock, not as scary as he seemed. “Oh sheep,” Wally sighed, “how you graze and you bleat, How I wish I could join you and nibble some wheat! But alas, I am wolfish, with sharp teeth and claws. They run when they see me, without any pause.” One day in the meadow, he spotted a coat, A bundle of wool someone left near a goat. “I’ve got it!” said Wally, his eyes opened wide. “I’ll wear this disguise, and I’ll blend right inside!” With a hop and a skip, he put on the disguise, A sheep in his heart, now a sheep in their eyes. He practiced his “baas” and his clumsy sheep walk, Then he strolled to the flock, where he joined in their talk. “Hello there, young lambs!” Wally said with a grin. “My name is Woolfred. May I join your kin?” The sheep weren’t so certain, he looked a bit tall, But his wool was so fluffy, they welcomed him all. Days turned to weeks, and Wally fit in, Grazing the grasses and guarding his kin. But trouble was brewing, danger was near, For a band of sly foxes crept close without fear. They lurked in the shadows, they plotted and schemed, Their teeth were much sharper, their eyes always gleamed. The sheep never noticed, so gentle, so sweet, But Wally could smell them, he sprang to his feet! “Dear flock, there’s a danger! It’s foxes I see! Quick, run to the barn! Stay safe there with me!” But the sheep were all frozen, not knowing the plan, Till the shepherd arrived, a kind, caring man. Wally turned to the shepherd and let out a howl. The man looked surprised, then furrowed his brow. “You’re not a real sheep, now what’s this charade?” But Wally just pointed where the foxes had stayed. The shepherd, now seeing the truth in his gaze, Helped Wally protect them, to everyone’s praise. The foxes retreated, their schemes all undone, And Wally stood tall, his disguise now for fun. The flock grew to love him, the shepherd did too, For a wolf who wore wool had a heart that was true. From that day forward, he guarded the field, A hero in wool, with a shield that won’t yield. So if you feel different, remember young Wally, Sometimes being yourself turns a story quite jolly. For it’s not what you look like, but what’s in your heart, That makes you a hero, right from the start.