Dust Mote on the Cosmic Wind | Catherine Viel

By Catherine Viel, February 21, 2023

(Golden Age of Gaia)

February 20, 2023

There is no wind;
A breath then must stir you—
If not a dancer,
What are you? what were you?
~Ethel Romig Fuller, Dust Motes



I’ve become a really hard sell of late with the supposedly necessary upheaval we’re experiencing. It seems like a global con game I can no longer buy into.

On a personal level, how much karma could I still have to work out with a family member? How much suffering are we expected to endure in order to resolve dramas set in motion, possibly lifetimes ago?

This elderly family member is no longer cognitively capable of recognizing, acknowledging, or releasing her experiences, either from the past or currently. She lives moment by moment, an enviable example of being in the present, although not deliberately so.

Is recognition and release happening on a soul level? There’s no way I can know. Does her inability to consciously enact this process put the onus on me, since I could facilitate through energy work? I regretfully admit that this burden does not fill me with joy or the supposed satisfaction of “being of service.“

It’s mind-boggling: we are just two people on this Planet Earth. How many millions are unwillingly riding their own wild roller coasters? To add insult to injury, it can be impartially verified that many humans are deathly ill or prematurely deteriorating as a direct result of the interventions of for-profit “healthcare.“

While purists of the spiritual community might aver that regardless of the reason, it’s necessary, and I’d better step up and do the work, I invite such purists to walk a million miles in my shoes and keep that attitude healthy.

*****



I’m never able to uncover a viable solution to this ongoing dilemma. Nor am I entirely sure it’s helpful to me, or to anyone, to air such grievances and frustrations.

Since I’ve become an entrenched cynic about the whole sacred karma/soul contract narrative, it’s impossible for me to suffer nobly in silence or encourage others to do the same.

On the contrary, I’m feeling that the more vociferous more of us are, daily, about our fed-up-ness with the state of affairs, the more likely the deep state quakes a bit more in its boots. Oh no! They’ve peeked behind the curtain and know it really isn’t all their fault—their negative experiences aren’t necessarily pre-ordained. They know that we did that to them, and they’re getting more pissed by the minute.

*****



I doubt it’ll ever be proven, one way or another, that existential teeth-gnashing like this contributes to chasing the last shadows of the dark to whatever their fate will be.

Their fate, thankfully, is not up to me. And perhaps I’m wearing human blinders, but their eventual fate isn’t nearly as important to me as the immediate-if-not-sooner cessation of their millennia-long control.

If part of the karmic narrative is still true and I have personal angst to work through, I hope I’ll have sense enough to recognize it, and do so. But I do wonder: how much of our negative “growing old” experience, which might feel like karmic necessity, is a human’s natural, inevitable disintegration? How many of our illnesses or other misfortunes are, as we’ve been told, what our soul decreed? Given the stranglehold of the dark over humanity for time out of mind, the answer might be, “Not a lot.“

Negative experiences imposed on me—without my consent, even though free will supposedly means that everything has been with our consent—must stop, and I do mean NOW.

A dust mote on the cosmic wind, that declaration no doubt is. If so, I hope it’s a mighty dust mote that lands smack in the eye of the overseer of the controlling dark forces, and irritates the heck out of it.

Like a small pebble in the shoe of an attacker, even a tiny mote could bring down an army.