The Alchemical Rede Magazine
By Clarity
2024 August 16th Issue
The Rooted Of Potential Is Grounded In Permission
Introduction:
Finding force to back off and allow ease to move in its place. Step back from the push, and don’t push, then all is well and safe.
The Rooted Of Potential Is Grounded In Permission
When we breathe, we give ourselves permission to live, what is labeled autonomic is actually a Soul speaking to the embodiment, and the embodiment listening each moment of each breath, asleep or awake.
The Garden is a breath of fresh air, an oasis, a watering hole, a respite, solace, nurturance, Love. No matter the effort involved, you are Present to a nature that shows you you are connected.
As you begin to focus your deepest Intention, of your Sovereign nature, the solitary time of focus becomes the question and answer time that gives the lines you need for the next lettered number, that finds you Grounded in Permission.
To own your own Permission is to find the mission of your statement of story and the telling that feeds others, as you have been fed. What you want, others want; Love, Compassion, and a sense of Well-being.
Completing the focused Intention is the desire to come to a conclusive settlement that answers the questions you have within your heart. Matter as substance, is resonating throughout your structure.
To build a strong enough structure, to allow for the creativity of matter to enfold the energy that is a vibrational system of connection, is to bring your formation of Intention into the folded nature of story paged into a creased and bending folio.
Telling the story, being the Story-teller of what you have been living, is to speak to the Divine in each of us, asleep or awake. When you come across a beautiful flower, do you keep it to yourself, or do you want to share it with others?
A fundamental question, of a fundamental equation within the very structure of the universe. Are you in the dark, or are there stars to help guide and navigate you to various points of destination?
Your Papered Awareness allows you to see and hear the subtle, intricate nature of listening, and then the telling that is goes along with it, is the juice that fires the engine, that sparks the imagination in others.
Without the sharing of the spark, we are inert, we are barely alive, we are just getting along, we are struggling to matter, in a field of matter, chocked full of abundance. To characterize yourself as a story-teller requires that you tell your stories for the fun and play of your child-self.
The intrinsic nature of listening is to share, because the story-teller has said. You have heard, and the need to pass it on is great so that the numbered equation can remedy to the taste of bud to Flower. Your taste buds are your Gardened Tongue of the Mother Essence, as she feeds you your life to live.
Now that you have forgotten to die, your living can fold, curve, and bend with the ease of connecting the stories you’ve heard to the people known and unknown to you, so that the energy of the organic can permeate the membrane of their cellular mass.
This is the fed feeding, this is the living bringing to life Life, this is the numbers multiplying the letters, this is Alice climbing out of the Rabbit, whole and complete and willing to tell, mention, allude to what has actually happened, depending on the circumstance.
Without proof, the brave step forward, and in the wasteland, build a Wonderland of the impossible becoming possible. You can’t possibly be without when you have enough imagination.
Lewis Carroll, mathematician working the quantum physics of story, into his equations of telling a story so bazaar, as to out bazaar the world, in its bazaar hold on the mind, to hold the mind to limitation.
Hear the tapping? That is the sound of a mind freeing itself from the binding limits of limitation, a mind intent on living outside the confines of containment, a mind desirous of creativity that tells there is a Papered Awareness, there is a Squared Perspective, there is a Corrugated pagination occurring after 1550.
Folios were numbered on the front only, while pagination came later, 1550, an 11 number of Mastership, that equated the back equal in the telling to the front, meaning we were given the right to tell the story coming and going.
Time travels in both directions, later it will be found to travel in all directions, just as space is everywhere, so is time, and the telling of Omnidirectional story-telling is an art that navigators and mappers can tell.
The Garden that you visit, or know about, you can envision and enjoy it, whether you are standing inside it or not. When you think about it, you are standing inside it. Keeping up with yourself is a task of breath, tapping brings the breath to a location.
The body is a location, it comes to resolution, recalculation, and creativity, so that the story can flow past the barriers and into the space/time needed to balance with the Is of Being.
The Jabberwocky was at the top of the tower, and though we are no damsel in distress, or knight in shining armor, we do know how to throw a spear of imagination through the heart of the matter, and make a difference.
Consider this, the Jabberwocky is dead, it is safe to drop your lances and swords, your masks and positions of attainment, and come out to sit at the Table of the Long Spoon, and feed each other again.
The illusion is there is not enough food, but limit has just been scraped into the garbage, and what’s left is more to the story than any one telling can do justice. Just say, we are prepared to connect the hungry to the food.
In a Universe filled with energy, we will never go lacking, and what was once told as fact will become fiction, and what was thought of as fiction will be come fact, until the need arises to change the story to an even more farreaching out-come.
The Ger is ready to be Shemmed up, and the Mu of Nu reaches into the Crown of the House of Home, to secure the Healing Sight of Visionary Compliance and the received of given.
The Hatter stitches the Crown of Hat with the Roses of Remembrance, so that the Manna is the Rose Bud of Taste on the tip of the tongue.
The Mother Tongue speaks lovingly of the acceptance of living within the Story of the Garden Plan, and our head to toe is relieved of burden, so that the registry of the Note of E is felt with Ease.
We are a Solitary Focus of the Codex, we are folded into its expansive story, we are the Expressionary Voice of resonation that emits the frequency of a Radial Circumference, so that what comes is the White of what colors our Words.
In the timing is the release of limit and the expression of format, as the equational resilience brings the rotational flow into a balance of Papered Awareness, that threads its way through and into the Heart of Gold.
The Red Thread connects, so stitch yourself into the Table of Contents, and see yourself part of what makes up a Codex. Become the Magic that shares a story so wild and unprovable, that even the Fairies are entertained by it.
Make no mistake, just because the Fairies are a part of this, that is means little. The fairies are what’s holding your chair together, the fairies are what makes what you see visible to you, the fairies are the firmament of the Ether. Necessary, yes indeed.
Time to applaud what you love, what you want, what you need, what you desire. Ring a bell for your own wings, and fly into the face of reason, so as to crack a smile.
Facing the world backwards, to see if it can catch up with what and who is changing. Throwing out a rope for those who need to swim to shore. Making a larger hole for those who need to dig in deeper.
All is more ready than you would think, and the purpose and meaning is shuffling faster than we are, and more is spoken in a different way, but the language is harder to speak, and the echos are very loud.
We pick up the corners on the four-square, and hope that meaning can reconstruct the bigger picture. Those that have shuffled off are not here to hear, speak, feel, or post. Making every shift happen is the detail of the connecting fibers.
We are more cornered by space than we ever thought, we are now counted up in a whole new way, and it is harder to digitalize our wholeness.
We wonder who is and who is not, and we have to redefine what we are looking for, do you measure up to yourself, or does someone else?
The narrows are arriving, and they spoon out the delectable for themselves. It is now time to catch up with yourself and narrow out what you want, as delectable to your own life.
There is a Potency arriving and it is small but fierce, so don’t miss it as it rolls across the floor. Be on watch, go down to the floor of it all, and Guardian this space, as Safety Felt Real.
The parliament has voted, not necessarily for ease, so you will find you will need to leave and lead another life in this same world, as what withholds.
You will come again in your rich softness and your flowing ways and it will be so fast that no one will know you left before you returned in a blink of an eye.
Many eyes will see differently, except that your space of love now feels real. Black is inside the Gold, and you will not know its Name or Number, but you are White and you will make a Mark on the Black richness of territory made Real by Gold.
Making every stage idealized in its own nature, you will come to the Witness of yourself, and every Guardian will create Time for you.
You are the nature of Time unfolding a new Potency, that can hold the Cold and wait the Wait, so that the incoming naturality can balance partnership, so that your very nature is spoken in Grace, Light, and Courage.
Become the noble part that bends down to the floor, in honoring of the grounding, that holds the knees flexible to the bending.
Once the Word is folded into the Pattern of Papered Awareness, there is a Magic that begins to move through the Fibers of Listening, and the Origamic Gel of Matter starts to fall down under the need of Dreams, and move out the caustic requirement of the Age of Old.
Untame yourself, become wild to the leash, and pull back on the force, and make it yield. We are now more tucked away in the tuck of Potential, and it is unbound from the limit.
Sharing all the graces, that have been shared before, is the Twice Told of this time. Become not an ornament, but rather the whole Tree of Time, standing strong in the nature of this time.
Let her soften the knowledge needed, and strengthen the Voice of a Whole Forest within one. The Above and Below will support your height and depth, because you have reincarnated without dying, and have moved from world to world, like a winged being unafraid of the fall.
You can come again and again, in a moment of desire, and not weary of the depths of the pattern of you. Gracious is your consciousness, in a time of living without dying to illumination.
You are caused by the Cause itself. You answer to no one, no one, but who you are becoming, the more of every dream you dream. Equated by past, present and future without ignorance.
Give yourself permission to be yourself, focused on your face becoming the one that sees the Vision of Connection bringing content to the Table.
Much is narrow in this focus, and the thread can easily slip though the I. The note of G gathers, grounds, and greets the next, so that what was given can be shared, and what is shared connects.
The current is flowing, the connections are now being applied, so that what was disconnected can respond easily and with Grace.
The Codex fills its pages with Content, and the expression of story is preserved, so that the telling becomes Twice Told in an era of Ear. The note of E becomes the Ra of Sound, and penetrates the sight.
Once hear and seen, the Fey of Land restores the sight of lost and the feeling of Home in a way not fallen, but rather built. We build up our forces and potentize our Path of Foot.
And with our right foot forward, we Ger our energy, Shem our Listening, and the Mu of Nu Emits the White that colors our Words with Expression.
Counting the dishes as set, Alice, the Dormouse, the Rabbit, and the Hatter all sit down to Tea. The Cheshire Cat hangs by his tale, and smiles the smile of knowing. More of this Nonsense is up to the Caterpillar, who seems to be resting in a hammock of sorts.
The War of Roses is over, the Magna Carte is signed, sealed, and delivered. The only Monarch with absolute power is the Butterfly, where transformation and change are the fortunes of our state of well-being.
“Be well”, said Alice. “Be well”, say all of us. “What the Dickens”, said Tiny Tim. And with that this particular part of the story is told.
Closure:
Stepping into the Thread with a more aware Foot, so guidance is felt instead of fall.
Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Jake, Clarity
