The Alchemical Rede Magazine
By Clarity
Soft Places for the Heart to Grow and Stretch
Introduction:
What now opens is a new archivial memory, and it is taken into the new consciousness, that is creating a new frequency. Above and below are coming together through pattern, and this awakens an immense sovereignty.
Soft Places for the Heart to Grow and Stretch
There are places we remember, as early as yesterday and as far away as previous lifetimes. Some of us, do. And to justify our existence we often point to the very tales of our upbringing, to illustrate that the impossible can be spoken here in the land of disbelief.
The Garden of the Red Thread seeds itself from just such tales, seeds itself from the ease of allowing the imagination to freely and wildly flow. Our visual acuity is enhanced by the color realm unstoppable, unrelentingly reaching for all the light it can drink in.
By stretching forward, we bend ourselves backwards and forwards, until the crease we made is able to flex and stretch its way to the between. We are between the worlds, and that is as true as there ever was.
This garden regards all its citizens as compatriots, companions, family and friends, if they are able to suspend disbelief for possibility.
The length of your arm is as far as you have to go, to realize that not everything is as it seems. The visible and invisible coexist, side by side, arm in arm, hand in hand, and they balance all that is.
Creating a summer tea, having a coffee, sharing conversation about the language of flowers, about the Fey Realm, the registries of vibrational essence, the subatomic particles entwined within the petals of the rose, the foliage of the Morning Glory, the fragrance of Rosemary.
These elements all, are the built blocks of what already exist in such plentifulness, that beyond number is just the beginning of the story.
We are fabriced, we are woven, we are needled into place, we are floated here on a boat of light, ferried here by the impressions of our heart’s desire, and our willingness to listen.
It’s a cakewalk to get from here to there, and summer is the time to do it. The garden demands your bare feet, wants you in contact with something, anything, beyond the ordinary.
The summer tea requires a summer cake, and the company you keep, even it is with you alone, is worth the time and trouble, perhaps even the wait, you put into an event worth telling.
Unknown to many, flowers are all ears, they hear everything, and use their energy to; transfix, transform, transmute, or transcend.
If you are reading this, or listening to this, you are in concert with the Fey Realm in one way or another. Deny it all you want, it’ll do you no good. We know what we know, and we share it, so that all of us can start getting over what ever it is that we need to get over.
To hear, or listen to something that not everyone hears or listens to, is not your fault, it is part of the process. You are a process becoming, unless you’ve already gotten there, and then you are simply being You.
If you haven’t noticed, it is terribly hard being you, you would think it would be a piece of cake, but it certainly isn’t, for anybody. And that goes to show you that even when things are what they are, it seems they could be something else, something a little bit more.
We have come a long way, eons actually, and we can state that uncatagorically without proof, because proof, as we’ve said before, comes after, always after, and never before.
The only thing that comes before is Magic, and that is where you come in. It was magic that let in all that light, the light you had before you were, and for all of us who have tried as hard as we might to keep that light, a toast with jam and bread.
In the middle of becoming, there is a level that one must be fully saturated with the comfort of home. Feeling home, being home, finding home, home as Place.
The preciousness of all that give to home is immense, and the giving of home is a support of this nurturance. When the full planetary speed begins to calm into its own frequency, there is a potent precision that sits down into us planetarily, galactically, universally.
The waiting of council to come within, and take up space to occupy content, lineage, and equational matter, opens the Heart of Gold and allows the softness to have a place to be.
When the comfort zone expands and the mobility comes with ease, there is a spreading out and expansion that lives within our bodies, whether we are of this world or another.
We all have body in some format of consciousness. We all have embodiment in intention. We all are capable of the full cellular content of love in some form of matter.
We matter, and that is what we now must take in on all levels. There is a fortune of intent that says our name, waits our wait, and drums our fingers.
The creational enfoldment cannot accept resistance, but can remain resilience. Only from sharing space is there space. The full scope of the meditating factor of a soft entrance is seen as a motivational curve that will allow more grace and ease in the midwifery process.
The folding forces of intention are in agreement with the sacred space needed for this turn and the equation of this curve that is now here.
Always and ever, is the same holding allowing, that cups us up into the comfort of a nestial bliss. When the process of becoming begins to alter the future, one knows the future has begun to become whole.
In this we can calm our senses and sooth our nations within us. Emotionary speed rate is an intricate consideration, and has been given the room that it needs for recalibration.
Every folded memory is cut precisely for a folded fit. The precise embodiment of what is now needed is being recalculated and incarnated as natural.
When the full motionary ends are revealed clearly there is a full response that will accept and assist. As the expression of feeling fills the Soul of Matter, there will be a lightening of the course, that will connect everything to everything.
The evenness of smooth is forwarding the ease, so that the resilience of listening can hear the story and relate the inner and outer sounds to the matrix of consciousness that is before, not after.
The equationary mode of existence is related to the magic of sound penetration, uncompared to formula and list, but rather nuance and pitch.
The music within story is the said heard and the picture taken. Intake of the picture, imbues the 3-D fleshing out of thought to Real, in Reel Time. As the pictures flip faster and faster, motion is detected and sense is gathered in.
When you enter the Garden of the Red Thread, you sense the holographic wholeness planetarily, Gaiac in its placement as Home, and you relax, centered in your own awareness resonating from your center, and completely in resonance with the storyline unfolding.
We, each day, wake to the sounds of the Garden. The magic it contains, contains us in its embrace, and we know beyond a doubt, that what proof there is will come after, not before.
The cake set before us makes us neither smaller, nor larger, it simply allows us to enjoy the cake. The coffee joins the summer, in its manner of hot or iced, and summer beams with pride that the light resonates brilliantly.
When allowed to be, the Fey will show you so much more of what you wish to know about, that you will head off in the direction of your deepest desires, most wished for wants, and the favorite needs most dear to your heart.
The Sandman brings sleep to your eyes, as invisible as that sounds, its true. They have passed the knowledge of his craft down through the ages, to solidify canon. The stories that you wished to be true, knew to be true when a child, the stories the parents told to their children, knowing them to be lies, yet told them just the same, knowing that actually they were true, but could not prove them, well, that came after, not before they became adult enough to no longer believe.
Stitched and woven with care, the Sandman is the needle in the eye of a storm so big, that no one will touch upon it, without getting through the Gate of Reason and on into the other side of everything Before.
Before there was Re-Sun there was Be-4, the numerical mix of equational balance. The Squared Perspective of a Papered Awareness that moves all beyond proof and into Being.
Given the grace of time and space, the Fey allow the transference of light, to bend and flow like Water, and the Mer of our cellular makeup resonates its intonations ,with the musical quality of the note of B.
Instrumental in the fine tuning of the Garden are the Bees, emblematic of the resilience of consciousness incarnate, and precise in their knowledge of how to feed the Earth.
We were fed stories every much as we were fed food, and the telling is so deep in us that no matter what proof there is to the contrary, the contraries are essential to the balance of change.
We engage in what we love, and the Fey are the lovers of each planet, galaxy, universe, and solar system, because they know that we need the Sun, we do not need a ReSun to want it, or need it, or desire it.
The soft face of the Sandman, gently moves you to slumber, taking care not to jostle and wake you, but rather send you to the before tomorrow, so that you can wake up before the day after.
As we go under the course of it all, to see into its roots, we are more comforted for the knowing and the feeling, more than ever before.
We accumulate more rods than cones in the eye of our seeing, and the crystals of our pineal activate and balance our pituitary, so that we can channel a new balance in our thought and reasoning.
We can then gather together a whole conial registry that will activate the Fish File Codex of our Waters, to calm and sooth the forces of need.
When the trinary code activates through a more visionary percentage we will be able to see into many levels that are now dark. We will develop a type of visionary sight that lights our way, and opens up the dark into visibility.
We resonate from the four corners of direction, and it permeates all our sources with its registry. Coming up through the Codex are many new codial factors, and this will move the visionary perspective into full codial balance.
The intended folders of archival consciousness are now available to all, and the product of intention is relocated into the Heart.
There is a speed and there is a frequency and we will be initiated into the art form of codial referencing, and the codial archives will be understood by the many instead of just the few.
There is a narrative that is quotational and the language within its conversation. All central focus will be narrow to the point that it can be understood.
The soft gentleness, of the sweet understood of the eye of the child, will become more of a way of being, and this will create the world young again in the hearts.
Our language holds the key to this softness, when we carry the child of our longing, our own self, over the threshold of sleep, and into the land awake enough to know that what is invisible is simply waiting.
How long have you waited to be yourself again? How long have you waited to simply Be? What rights could you possibly give yourself that would make it okay to be you?
The Red Thread is already stitching you up and without your knowing it, it is healing with its invisible threads of color, beyond the light spectrum of here, because it emanates from there.
What a profound truth it is when what was once thought impossible, is seen to be of value and worth, the Fey are the Fey, the Angelic Realm, in their infinite wisdom, to follow in the footsteps of the Fey, are for the most part invisible as well.
There is a pattern here, simple and direct, that allows the eye of the beholder a certain breath of air, a bit more room, a scooch more believability in the magic life teams with daily.
When you think you are grown up and have done everything there is to do to prove yourself, you find that what was most important was everything invisible to the eye, unless you kept real the velveteen of your Soul.
Sweet dreams everyone.
Closure:
In creating there comes a new force of wisdom, and this wisdom connects the equations of the future.
