I had a feeling that my spiritual guidance wanted to talk to me so I sat down closed my eyes and connected in.
They said, “You are a one of a kind gypsum soul. You were born decades and eons before taking your first breath, taking your first step, saying your first word. The soul that belongs to you has kept many secrets. We are told your troubles are few and far between but like gypsum rock, who you are has been carved by torrent waters. Pieces being etched away and flowing from your soul, to other places, to other locations and destinations. You are one with the all because you are at one with the many. You are at one with many places. Pieces of you are left scattered all around. All around and all through the world. You are her heart and soul, you are her body and spirit.”
When I read back these words what they mean to me, and what they might mean to you, is that the different lifetimes of our souls have been like dissolvable rock as pieces of us have been swept up and deposited at various parts of the world. These are the places where we have lived through many lifetimes. These are the places where our many bodies have been buried. Do we not have many lines of blood still living, many plots of land still in existence, and many impressions made by our various lifetimes still connected to each one of us?
Wow, I don’t know how to really describe what I am seeing, but it is so beautiful. I am in awe. It’s a soul standing like a starry flower and all of these fronds of different lifetimes cascade down around the soul. Each lifetime is a glistening drop of glowing dew, a ball of light, attached to a wispy little hair, attached to the soul. Some are a life that has been lived and some are lives yet to come. They are all magnificent and all beautiful. And it is the individual lifetime that connects into so many other lives and lifetimes and all through the soul. We are each connected to so many places and time periods on earth, and even some beyond. This is where the gentle flower wakes up and blossoms, drawing in the nourishing water from each drop of glowy dew. I see them all getting sucked up now into the head of the glowy blossom. I actually see it like the fuzzy head of a dandelion before its head opens and seeds disperse. Its hairy tuft is just popping up and it is glowing with a light that overcomes all. Its light is the glow of promise. The soul’s light is the glow of promise. Promise of better days and better ways. And through many lifetimes and many troubles that have been etched into the stone of who we are, we have always been connected to the soul and its promise.