Beyond the Soul’s Meridian August 24, 2025
The following narrative is a faithful account concerning events that occurred over the last three weeks of this month. If anything, they have illustrated to me where I am going and how I am getting there. It is my path. In truth, we must all find one that is unique to ourselves.
My daughter and her husband recently moved from New York City, New York to Allen Park, Michigan, a southwest suburb of Detroit. She needed a second car, and since we had my son’s abandoned Buick sitting in the driveway, it was hers for the asking. After a considerable amount of work, which included new tires, brakes, window motors, wiper blades, battery, oxygen sensory, and finally passing emissions, it was licensed, and back on the road legally, in a condition that was safe enough to drive.
With my wife in tandem driving her Rogue, the way going was uneventful. Coming back was a different story. Between Detroit and Chicago, I-94 is a treacherous stretch of interstate even under the best circumstances. That day was cloudy and rainy. All the cars were jockeying for position at or past the posted speed limit of 75 mph. For a few people, that is just not enough speed. In some instances, the people who slow down are almost run off the road. Slow speeds can be just as dangerous as fast, so for most of us, all you can do is keep abreast and go with the flow of traffic.
Although my wife Nancy is a fine driver, I insisted on being behind the wheel traveling back. Mainly because our routine is to listen to consciously oriented videos which we stream from a smartphone. Since I do not own one, Nancy manages the playlist on hers while I focus on traffic. Say what you want about these “channeled” sources, some are truly inspirational, while others seem to be uninspiring, dubious, contrived, or even reek of agendas.
There was also an unsettled feeling that I developed on the way in. An intuition suggesting softly that I should drive back. Westbound, just east of Ann Arbor, the rain poured down and many drivers adjusted their speed back to, or under, the 75 mph limit. One particular maniac, in an orange Camaro, hit the rainstorm at around 90 mph. As I was attempting to move from the far left to the middle lane, I barely caught a glimpse of him as he shot past the passenger side of the car like a shooting star and into the traffic ahead of me. Fortunately, I had not committed to the lane changed, which averted a collision.
Now, I sensed that a hell storm was all around me, with a crazy orange comet in a chaotic trajection agitating a herd of steel beasts, their operators, and their hapless passengers. All of us were just trying to get through this rain-slick, lightening-charged, disturbance, safely to our destinations in one piece. Yet, the basic impulse of preservation through a cohesive adherence to safety, caution, awareness, and mutual consideration was leveled from the chaos of one out-of-sync driver. Fifty yards ahead of me was the orange Camaro, all bottled up with nowhere to run.
Throughout all of this, we were listening to an enlightened message with a particularly strong resonance that kept our vibrations high, and our thoughts focused. The source was from Caylin, a “Messenger of the Pleiadian Keys.” It was about why loved ones choose different realities.
Three miles of road later, we were still in a downpour. Now settled back into my zenful state of awareness, listening to Caylin, we approached a fourth lane on the far right with traffic merging from Ann Arbor. As soon as the fourth lane was marked, the orange Camaro drove into it at full speed sending an oncoming white sedan spinning out of control. Instead of stopping, the Camaro weaved left into traffic, working its way ahead, back into my path, which was adjacent to the far-left lane.
At that instant, a gray sedan was merging from the right onto the same road that I was driving on which now had an open stretch of highway that lay just ahead. Unfortunately, the gray car merged into the blind fury of the accelerating Camaro, sheering off its driver side front end, and spinning it like a top. The Camaro’s passenger side front-end disintegrated, causing it to jolt a hard 90 degrees into the far-left lane. It slammed squarely into the passenger side front wheel of a large black SUV, spinning it 1080 (360×3) degrees out of control into the left median.
As this chaos was taking place, I did not react, except to take my foot off the accelerator. Within that instant, I was hyper-aware and could see clearly all the variables of spinning destruction unfolding in front of me. As the vehicles were exploding, and their shrapnel spraying all around, I sensed a brief portal that would be lost if I slowed down. I knew that if I braked, I would be swallowed in their chaos. Fully knowing the outcome, I punched the accelerator, watching all the vehicles casting off in different directions. As we moved past them, it seemed as though time had changed its nature, like we were in slow motion, until we safely passed.
In my rear-view mirror, I spied a wake of destruction that had stopped all traffic. I thought about pulling over, but what was the point? Our vehicle was untouched, and there would be an ample number of people to help and bear witness. We drove another five miles, listening to Caylin’s message, which was far more engaging than anything else us. Neither of us reacted throughout the entire experience. Not a sound uttered or a startled reflex. True zero-point. If we had, we would not have made it through.
It was not until the message ended, when I started laughing, and I asked Nancy, almost rhetorically, “What the F!@# was that?” The funny part was, we both knew we were in a different plane of consciousness, and therefore, a higher state of existence. Nancy calls it the bubble. Living in buoyancy, sober sincerity, truth, fidelity, and higher awareness, is really the only place that both of us care to be.
Needless to say, we had much to talk about on the rest of the way back.
One week later, after we had time to fully process the experience, we partook in our usual Sunday routine. This included biking a well-known coffee house for a “special drink” and sitting out on the patio with other patrons, deep in conversation. Over the years, this has become one of our rituals during fair weather. We try to go at off-hours to avoid the routine rush of crowds.
On this late Sunday morning, the only people sitting on the patio was a lady of extremely advanced age, a very heavy man (who was her son), and small yippy Pomeranian dog that was sitting on a cushion. They always sit at the table right next to the door and the dog barks at everyone who walks by. This is not my favorite arrangement as the tranquility of the patio is tenuous when they are parked there.
We got our drinks, found a spot on the patio, and fell into deep conversation for about a minute, until the dog started barking. Uncharacteristically, this went on for at least ten minutes which completely silenced me. There was no point talking over the noise, let alone thinking about anything but the barking dog. Finally, I turned around and could see that there was another dog, a retriever mix, sitting quietly with its owner, just a few tables away. This was the reason why the Pomeranian turned into a siren.
Five more minutes went by, and finally, enough was enough. I stood up and announced to Nancy, without facing anyone, “That’s it! We are out of here!” The large man behind us made a feeble attempt to apologize, but there was no point of acknowledging him, let alone, turning around to face them. As we were leaving, a third dog and its owner were making their way to the patio, while the Pomeranian continued to bark its head off. Walking off the patio, I could hear the big man say, “That’s all right mom, we don’t like their attitude anyway.”
Fortunately, there are other places to sit. Behind the parking lot, over on the next block, is a seating area with a central fire pit, which was turned off for the season. No one was there, so we were not infringing upon anyone else’s space. It took me a while to settle down while meditating upon the question, “In what universe was the freak show that we had just witnessed, OK in?
Understand, there are entire worlds in this galaxy of higher evolved beings who know intuitively, without any explanation or direction, that inconsideration upon anyone’s part is not OK. That is, if breaches of the peace occur, they are resolved almost immediately, in a mutually constructive fashion, without any confrontation. That is because most people in those worlds are attuned to each other, so they are more self-aware of their transgressions. Even if a person is not aware, say for example, a person of advanced age who cannot sense things clearly, others who are awake could understand the situation, and would help to ameliorate it.
Within our lowly evolved world, nothing of the sort exists because no one can see the universe outside of their conditioned self. Nothing that I could have said to anyone on that patio would have been construed as constructive. Regardless of my intentions, anything that I could have said or done, would have been against their insulated view of reality, and I would be viewed by the group as the “bad guy.”
Theirs is a plane of existence that is just over the parking lot, fueled by self-indulgence, barking dogs, and people plugged into to their own realities that I can no longer take any interest in. The undeniable conclusion is that we are incompatible as neither they or we (myself and Nancy) can live within common terms.
As I came to this conclusion, I settled down, found my still point, and continued our deep dive that we initiated before we were driven away. It was inspired by an other-worldly source of information that cannot be shared openly with most people. This level of information will cause nothing but ridicule and agitation in less aware people and will never be discussed in a mutually comfortable fashion. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGxl9MO–UM)
As we finally fell into a deep reflective exchange, I noticed a herd of people emerging from the far side of a corner house, spilling onto the street, and heading directly towards us. There must have been two dozen of them, walking to the place where we were sitting. All of them had smart phones in front of their faces leading them blindly to our newfound sanctuary. Within an instant, they were upon us, cramming into a space that was designed to seat no more than ten people. Our refuge was invaded by this horde who were all held in a technologically induced trance. As they squeezed in all around us, I could feel the heat of their bodies and taste the smell of their sweat. Someone actually sat on the top of the fire pit grate, and I could feel him breathing down on my neck.
Astonished, our conversation was arrested as their trainer directed all of them to park their backsides at the fire pit. This human Pokémon Go generated mass emanated a low din of vague speech, incomplete sentences, and meaningless expressions, that stifled us in our tracks. The encroachment was not just physical, but astral, like a blob that was trying to absorb us into its hive mind of pointless activity. In their subconsciously controlled ignorance, there was a shadow force behind it that was attempting to expunge us.
Again, I raised question, “In what universe is this consider OK.?” Not the game, but the behavior of its participants. How is this normal human behavior?
As the trainer was speaking, and contaminating our space with their mundane, invasive, and pointless, exercise, I looked directly into her eyes and stated as loudly over the din as I could without yelling, “I am sorry, but we were having a discussion here before you guys invaded this space. Certainly, you have the right to sit here, but I have the right to speak. What I was saying may be offensive to many of you. Regardless, I will continue to speak about it as freely as I want.”
With that, I began talking openly about what was conveyed in the cited message, which included nothing that would surprise a fearlessly enlightened soul. It was about our government’s hand in weather weapons aimed at its own citizens, the war against drug dealers, which is a ruse to throw independent dealers under the bus, while consolidating global operations by the new administration which is enforced through our own military. The extensive involvement our government is playing in human trafficking, on and off world, etc.., etc., etc. Nothing was really new information in the video, it was just another point of view which was validating what many awakened souls have long suspected. The longer I talk, the quieter the group became.
Eventually, the trainer spoke up and said, “OK, let’s go to the water tower.” And off they went.
In the wake of it all, I realized that it was the yipping dog that forced us to come to this exact spot to have this experience.
What is the universe trying to convey to us?
It goes back to the original message conveyed by Caylin. We have chosen the reality that we are aligned to which is no longer compatible with the other group. It is simply a choice. One that diminishes the self in fear, chaos, and conflict among people who have been conditioned to accept voluntarily the conditions of their abusive and enslaving circumstances.
The other group longs to unshackle themselves from whatever karmic obligations they may have had with other souls who have degraded human existence upon this planet for far too long. In truth, everything is an illusion, as we are not bound to anyone or anything. Do not get caught in the quagmire that pulls on your sympathy and draws you back into their perpetual state of confusion, chaos, and despair.
Universal ignorance is induced by the Shadow whose specter controls all things in lower their reality. Yet, the unaware are fatally attracted to the archonic deceptions of the shadow-plays and its host of phantoms, like a moth to a burning candle. No one who is devoid of any interest in following the higher path can see beyond the candle’s feeble flickering deep inside the Shadow’s cave. Therefore, they can never see the truth that you embrace. In fact, they resent it.
It is a free will choice to drive 90 mph in a rainstorm, indulge yourself at everyone else’s expense, take your eighth poisonous injection, and wear a mask that not only increases your risk of respiratory infections, but impairs your ability to breath, hides your face, stifles your expression, blunts your emotions, and diminishes your identity. Yet, people are still doing these things because they are living in a world of conditioned reality that is incompatible with higher truth.
It is their right to do so, just as it is your right to disengage from their chaotic insanity. The unraveling is happening right now, before our eyes. No one can force anyone to do something against their will. This now works in both directions.
Accept everyone for who they but do not let their distortions ensnare you. Find your peace. Regardless, we are all destined to wind up in the same place. By design, earthbound life is designed to be temporary and is therefore merely an illusion. This experience forges our soul’s values. Now is the time of the Harvest, where we must take from life the lessons that we learned and forge above and beyond the storms of chaos.
Whether it is towards the candle, or the Logoic Light of Truth, we are all moving on.
In Good Faith,
Peace.
Beyond The Soul's Meridian 