Love, Time Travel, `Perfection and Imperfection

How your moodiness is your asset when it comes to liberating humanity from the IT

Perfection and imperfection are themes I’ve been integrating lately. So are joy and pain and how the heart can open through pain, how energies of disillusionment and disappointment can reveal, just beneath them, freedom, bliss and authentic self-expression that is increasingly free of attachment and available to be a messenger of the universe, delivering through our life’s expression, the light, the touch points, the cosmic synchronicities that allow the whole of life to interconnect beyond the IOT, in an organic, cosmically aligned, divinely choreographed way that is both improv and impeccable planning from a higher octave.

This pic was taken as I am in a practice of dancing on my bed. At the time of the picture, I am also processing great grief, great loss, great disillusionment and surrender to a higher plan, in which the role I play in someone else’s story isn’t always the one I’d pick from a human vantage point, but it is one that I can tell deep down, serves a higher purpose. We all recruit each other for this!

To neglect our broken hearts is to bypass. But to deny our soul joy even in the midst of our broken hearts is to betray ourselves more deeply than anyone else ever could. Because it is the breaking and the allowing in of the light that allows a joy that can unite the perfection we all are with the glorious imperfection that is not only beautiful from the perspective of having an experience, but also NEEDED to help our fellow humans reconnect to their sovereignty beyond false perfection, including AI shit that would seek to deliver a perfection that unhumanizes us.

There is so much that seeks to take us off the beat of our heart. Seek to unify in a space of sovereignty and you may have an experience I have had, where someone can only call you “disgusting,” or “ignorant,” make vast assumptions about you and launch a thousand accusations at your character, even when you come in peace. This is a theme song from my childhood, so when it crops up, I see this familiar pattern and I know I still have inner work to do, but also that my pattern creating an overlap with this experience is also offering a space to speak into that I wouldn’t otherwise. So it is imperfectly perfect.

If you’ve read A Wrinkle In Time you’ll remember it is not a false perfection or a lack of anger that frees Charles Wallace from the IT but love and moodiness. It is Meg’s imperfection that allows the perfection of love itself to manifest for her brother in a way that frees him, and allows him to reclaim his own liberty, his own consciousness, which he surrendered in a well intentioned but arrogant attempt to dialogue with a force lacking any heart at all, the essence of AI in the hands of controllers whose only goals are annhilation, manipulation and exploitation. They are the rapists of the planet and of children, both. And they want to serve up annihilation and rape as a sanitized version of dignity, safety and assurance that you need not free will, you need only surrender to the controller to feel all your anxieties gone.

The borg. Seven of 9 from Star Trek voyager actually misses the order and lack of chaos experienced through having her brain and physiology regulated by a machine. She has to re-learn what it means to feel, to choose, to be an individual. Meg, from a Wrinkle in Time, has no such issues. Her love for her brother allows her to transmute her anger into a fiesty form of love that the Eugenecists of the world would hate or mock, depending on whether they underestimated its power. The power of being fully human, moodiness, imperfection and all, while being directed by Love.

Do you believe we can tesser? What do you understand to be true or untrue about time? Does love travel faster than the speed of light?

Earlier we took our son out to a local coffee shop: he got a tea, my husband got a chai and I got a mocha that I later described without thinking as a hot chocolate. Usually they taste more espresso-y. I didn’t notice that much at the time though because we were having an amazing conversation about Einstein and about my origial family name on my Jewish side, which was subsequently changed by my grandparents to avoid persectution. I love it when people smarter than me agree with me on important topics, and it turns out that Einstein’s ideas and mine coalesce in the same exact, or virtually the same exact place on relevant topics related to history and geography. I used the metaphor of brothers learning to share a room versus one brother kicking the other out or plotting against him, or giving him only the closet to summarize how I feel about this topic to my son, and to explain Einstein’s evolution from being a gentle zionist who believed in absolutely equal rights between Jews and Arabs to seeing how unfair this room sharing was shaping up to be and how it mimicked fascism anew, rather than being a salvation from it.

When we arrived home, my husband and I went on a lovely walk with the doggers this morning, and afterward, I realized that since my mocha was more of a hot chocolate, I felt inclined to get another coffee - just a simple black coffee from this other place not far from home. I brought a big white round mug from home, and reminisced with my husband about days long gone when I used to go to this coffee shop more often and on about equal occasions accidentally donated a mug and accidentally took one of theirs home. Once, I found one of my mugs maybe three years later.

I placed my order and when the young man asked if there was anything else, I asked for love, joy, world peace and sovereignty for all people. He was resonant with the idea, hesitant about its realism. I planted seeds of birthing this miracle from the no-thing. That’s the only place where anything is birthed after all into the worlds of form.

We sat down and connected in conversation for a little while and after he had finished his granola, and my of mug coffee was slightly less full, a couple walked in comprised of two people we have talked with fairly deeply in the past. One of them has as twin brother who has gone to Hollywood to use art to bring alive truth. The other is a young woman who plays the violin, and with whom I once had a beautiful conversation about authenticity and about the worthwhileness of giving our gifts even if we can’t do it perfectly. As they say, anything worth doing is worth doing badly at first! Her partner, the brother of the twin in Hollywood is a musician and also philosopy student. She is studying psychology. He is also studying psychology. It seems like all around me, people are studying philosophy and psychology, even here on substack. Drop me a comment if you’re into one or both!

It’s always fun when you run into people who wanted to jump right into significant conversations, and this was that type of a situation. We immediately dove into time travel, the paper the young man has to write for school and our models of reality, and the ways in which consciousness is pragmatic as our most powerful way of positively impacting the world. The young man was agreeing with every word I said and his girlfriend was looking a little like she had had enough of abstract concepts, and it occurred to me intuitively to mention Meg. I summed up Meg and offered, ‘It’s not an abstract perfection, but our moodiness, our anger, our feelings in the service of our love that have the power to free humanity from the IT - from things like the AI agendas that would, apart from our beautiful imperfection harness in Love, replace all that is genuine with a false perfection. She said, ‘Then I guess I do need to read it. But I’ve been in a bit of a reading slump.’ I encouraged that either when she gets out of her slump, or perhaps, even before, she could have her boyfriend read it to her. I shared how my husband sometimes reads to me and sometimes we snuggle up in bed, each with our own book, and occasional read other stuff from it. Her boyfriend smiled at her, looking, it seemed to me, very much like he could have stepped out of ancient Greece, “It is a good idea.”

On our way out, I said to the young man, “If I time travel to Ancient Greece, I’m sure I’ll see you there.” Later my husband I both agreed he reminded us of Socrates.