A Free Heart Soars | Catherine Viel

By Catherine Viel, April 7, 2022

(Golden Age of Gaia)

April 6, 2022

the empty void is a speck of the heart that cherishes deeply.
the universe is a particle of unbroken dust soaring in the air.
~Fei Ming 废名 (translated from the Chinese by Yilin Wang), the soaring dust of the mortal realm



All I’m ever looking for is peace. On a good day, I can reliably tap into the gently pulsing pool of light that I perceive as my center of peace.

Then there’s all the other days. And frequently, each day is a mixture, most of it dependent on my perception of circumstances or events. If a family member is experiencing not-wellness, I’m likely to spend the day in a state just shy of simmering panic.

When it seems like the entire world is falling off a cliff into chaos and disaster, the simmering panic wants to erupt full-bore and become my predominant sensation.

Usually, the cure is to focus my physical and mental vision upon my immediate world. There’s not a cliff in sight, and even if there were, nobody’s pushing me toward the edge.

*****



I do wonder, though, if the cliff might not come to me. Is there a financial disaster around the corner? Many commentators point toward potential collapse of worldwide financial markets and systems, including a possible plummet in the value of the dollar. From my understanding, this routing out of the established system is a necessary precursor to completely dismantling the deep state.

But what about collateral damage? People like retirees who rely on conventional savings or investments to bridge the chasm between benefits received and what it actually costs to live on this planet might be left high and dry. If inflation truly spirals out of control and savings/investments head toward worthless paper, how long will we be able to sustain ourselves?

Reassurances that the old, corrupt system will be replaced by an incorruptible and equable quantum financial system, NESARA/GESARA, or whatever it turns out to be, ring a bit hollow when watching gasoline prices top $6 per gallon as they have in my part of California.

*****



There’s a ruggedly beautiful spot I used to visit near Hendry‘s Beach in Santa Barbara, picturesque cliffs descending from the bluffs just north of Cliff Drive, with a gently sloping meadow below. These cliffs and the nearby public park are a popular place for launching hang gliders. How brave are those who jump straight out into the air! All they have is a colorful, flimsy swath of taut nylon stretched above their heads, a sliver of fabric between them and eternity.

But at least they’re aware that what they’re doing is dangerous, potentially disastrous. It feels to me like the ever-more precarious economic situation of the world has been thrust upon humanity with neither our full awareness nor consent.

Even people with some degree of awareness might be increasingly uneasy. Although I prefer the sunny-side-up viewpoint of those who repeatedly affirm we’re in for a softer landing than it might look like, watching prices rise like a cartoon parody designed to induce panic in Bugs and Daffy drives a wedge between me and what I’d like to believe. (1)

*****



I haven’t watched the hang gliders in many years. Their blithe defiance of gravity and their joyful bravery never fail to instill both chagrin at my lack of that bravery and deep yearning to possess such a free heart.

Might they perish, jumping off that cliff? It happens occasionally, equipment inexplicably failing, the tragic news splashing on the front page and lingering in oft-viewed online news archives.

It seems inconceivable that hundreds of millions of ordinary people worldwide are being rushed toward a financial cliff, unable to put on the brakes, an uncertain support system the only bulwark between them and the financial abyss.

Since many imponderable events have already happened, I can’t place too much reliance on my lack of credulity.

What can I rely upon? Faith that God, the Universe, Gaia, the on-world and offworld Alliance, and of course individual humans, intend for humanity to float inexorably upward rather than plummet disastrously downward.



That’s really about it. That’s all I have in my arsenal of hope. A massive crash and burn is not meant to be. The Age of Aquarius is indeed dawning. No matter how grim things look, no matter how much worse it gets, we are not jumping off the cliff with defective equipment strapped to our backs.

Faith seems a frail thing, a wisp scarcely hefty enough to hold a moth, let alone a human. I can’t truly describe what faith is to me. All I can say is that somehow, I’m sure I have an adequate amount to see me through.

I might get a smidge anxious, next time I fuel my car or shop for groceries. But I can look at those rising numbers and imagine them trending downward, downward, and the world’s craziness smoothing out and settling like a massive Earth-sized quilt shaken into rumples and then smoothed by a multitude of loving hands.

And over the weekend, perhaps I’ll go to the parking lot at Hendry’s and wait for the hang gliders. I have faith, as do they, that they are in for a glorious ride and an exhilarating, exuberant, and safe landing.



(1) See, for example, Tarot by Janine’s recent “Zodiac Check-in for Humanity; family, well-being, systems & money, will we take it all back?” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUP_rAdD4Jc