Starships of Earth | Catherine Viel

By Catherine Viel, March 30, 2022

(Golden Age of Gaia)

March 29, 2022

Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have this wish I wish tonight.
~Anonymous, Star Light, Star Bright



I’m wandering along today in a pleasant daze because it finally rained. The rolling hills that are already drying out, victim to California’s artificially induced drought, will green up again, at least for a few weeks.

And then I see the morning digest from the Epoch Times and my reverie vanishes. One headline raises its hand for special attention:

“People’s Convoy Shifts Gears to Protest Proposed California Vaccine Laws.“ (1)

Wait a minute, what proposed California vaccine laws? Why are there any proposed vaccine laws, anywhere? I keep hearing that the Covid show is over, and humanity’s attention is now being directed to the Russia-Ukraine war. Why bother legislating a dead issue?

Since California appears to exist in its own tightly controlled bubble, steered by a governor who refused to give up his Covid emergency powers, I ought not to feel blindsided. But…ten new proposed laws? To combat a nonexistent state of emergency? Even for California, that feels a bit dark-of-the-moon unreal.

*****



I suppose it’s overly optimistic to lean toward the alternative narrative’s assurances that it’s all a movie being played out to wake the sleepers. Even if things are enacted, they won’t stick, anything contra to human sovereignty will be struck down, and so on. All those draconian mandates? They’re not legal, anyway.

Then I consider: legislation is not a mandate. Legislation has the force of law. My admittedly sketchy understanding of legal matters leads me to believe that attempting to repeal a mandate is easier than undoing state legislation that’s been duly enacted into law. No wonder this scenario gives me goosebumps.

*****



I feel as if I’m skipping along a lovely pathway strewn with flowers, birds fluttering in blooming bushes and butterflies dancing above my head, when all of a sudden it’s the reverse of that famous Wizard of Oz scene. Everything goes from color to black and white, a tornado whirls into view, death and destruction loom.

Granted, the tornado has not yet touched down. The proposed bills have not yet been voted on. The first one is to be considered on March 30, 2022. Politicians in Sacramento, most of whom I assume are compromised—bribed or blackmailed, as many believe they are—will be directed by their handlers to pass this into law.

And I can only assume that such will be the case with the other legislation. Without non-compromised politicians standing up to these bills, they will become California law and be imposed upon…me.

*****



There’s a part of me that has Chicken Little syndrome and wants to dash into the street, shrieking to all and sundry that the end times are here. I acknowledge that panic-stricken aspect of self, give it a nice warm hug, and allow it to subside. Raised as a human being on this planet, how could I react otherwise? The rest of me, what feels like the majority of my cells and my energetic fields, sighs resignedly and gives the fear a little pat on its way out.

It’s tempting to view the world as if we’re aboard a beleaguered clipper ship, tossed at sea, the hull riddled with holes and sinking inevitably downward. That seems to be the world view encouraged by those who wish to control us.

Since I prefer to be directed by my connection with Source, however, I’ll look for the other ship that I’m sure is nearby. There are no holes in its hull. It is energetic rather than cobbled together from third-dimensional tar and wormholed planks affixed with rusty iron nails.

Perhaps it’s a starship of Earth, unbound by mundane laws, available to those who know where to look. I imagine pressing a hand to its invisible side, being warmly welcomed onboard with the reassurance that I’ve come to the right place.

*****



To tangibly reconnect with beloved Gaia, I stroll to the wild zone at the end of the block, visit the mud-churned creek, listen to it tumble joyfully from the influx of rain. I hear the wind whip rapidly through the trees, a multitude of birds chirping and cawing. None of them seem worried about what the California legislature might be cooking up.

I take a page from their cheerful book, and gaze up through the trees as I wander the creek path, watching for silvery flashes of what could be something other than Earth-made vehicles of the sky.



(1) Meme courtesy of Suzanne Maresca’s Buy Me a Coffee site, where a plethora of relevant, informative, and (let’s face it) often giggle-worthy memes may be had, along with lots of other Ascension- and Disclosure- related news, commentary, and links.

The People’s Convoy website: https://thepeoplesconvoy.org