The Bridge to Cross Eternity | Catherine Viel

By Catherine Viel, December 28, 2021

(Golden Age of Gaia)

December 27, 2021

“We’re going,” they said, “to the end of the world.”
So they stopped the car where the river curled,
And we scrambled down beneath the bridge
On the gravel track of a narrow ridge…
I stood at the edge where the mist ascended,
My journey done where the world ended.
I looked downstream. There was nothing but sky,
The sound of the water, and the water’s reply.
~Dana Gioia, The End of the World



There is such a feeling of suspension. The waiting at the bridge.

I’m mentally seeing a suspension bridge across a very wide gorge. It’s one of those narrow wobbly rainforest-type bridges made of rope and tree branches with the bark still on, tied tightly together, held in place with a wing and a prayer.

This, it feels, is where we are. Humanity, queued up on one side of this bridge. The gorge plunges deeply, reaching down into eternity. And at the far side of that bridge, what awaits?

The bridge is blocked on this side. The keeper of the crossing grasps a single rope, thick as a hawser anchoring a liner, which stretches across the entryway. Like a bouncer at the world’s most exclusive nightclub, the gatekeeper looks down a supercilious nose and holds the rope end’s massive latch in one hand, ready to click it open and throw the barrier aside. Ready to unleash the stampede.

It feels like that bridge represents this week. Today, December 27…all the way through the 31st.

*****



We are incessantly encouraged not to place emphasis upon dates. If we’re reckless enough to make predictions and hang them on a particular date, we may end up hanging in midair, unsupported by the evidence of events.

Still, many in the alternative community engage in some form of prediction-by-date. How could it be otherwise? Whether we wish to acknowledge it or not, humans are enclosed in the perception of time. Surely even remote tribes within the deepest forests, largely untouched by Western notions, are boxed and bordered by day and night, the rolling of nameless minutes from past to present and on into future.

How can we do anything but predict and expect, hope and wish? How could ordinary humans ever completely unhook our dreams and longings from the chain of time which holds us all?

*****



I do put expectations on certain dates. I admit it! I am a time-bound human. When I hear that things are going to happen “before January” (and continuing into January), in my mind, that means now. Followed by, very soon. (1)

Not “very soon” as seen by Galactics who don’t schedule things in human time (or, apparently, perceive it anything like we do), but now and very soon according to the calendar many in Western civilization consult regularly.

So, how shall I while away these minutes and hours? Sitting around waiting, watching the rain through streaky windows and sighing deeply, isn’t terribly appealing. Engaging in a bit of busywork seems preferable. Clean up some paperwork. Declutter another shelf, add to the thrift store drop-off collection.

In between the spaces of activity, my brain clicks along, never quite relaxed. Will today be the day? Is there something happening right this moment, somewhere in the world, that’s going to blow the powder keg sky high?

Covid mandates be gone, I think. Buh-bye, illegitimate U.S. administration. The truth of All is revealed.

Perhaps if we all think it in concert, we can make it so.



*****

I wonder if this extraordinarily drawn-out process we’ve been told is supposed to wake people up has been partly for the purpose of sharpening up those who consider themselves awake and aware. Some cosmic forger tests the mettle of the blade of Us, thumbing the edge thoughtfully, considering. More lessons in patience and perseverance? More reminders to allow everyone to come along, or not, in their own sweet time?



I doubt that the order of our progression into Future happens by human device or direction. More likely it’s within each human soul as it approaches the bridge to forever.

For me…confidently, but not, I hope, arrogantly, I believe I’m fairly close to the starting gate. I can see it if I squint a bit, and even better if I take out my flashlight and turn the high beam on.

I don’t shine the light down into the gorge. Not interested in seeing the abyss, not my bailiwick. I don’t know how I know this, but I do.

No. Mine is to look ahead. Look to the far side of the bridge. Since I can’t really see that distant cliff, I must imagine it, co-create reality on the other side.

The engine of the world’s heartbeat drives our motion across the bridge, into where we’re going, leaving where we were behind, unlamented and possibly unremembered except within electronic tomes like these.

I’d be quite content to forget the chains of time, when I’m wherever time is not. Oh, how I smile and sigh (happily!) to imagine that.



(1) See, for example, Sending Ravens with Tarot by Janine’s video, “Tarot By Janine Shares The Latest Videos She’s been watching and a Phil tidbit,” 12/26/21. She unabashedly remarks that she believes December events are happening—after all, there’s still a week to go—and notes that it’ll be a wild ride into and through January, 2022. https://tinyurl.com/2p8kfhbf