Flying in Metatron’s Cube

I looked around the cottage kitchen. The jump pad was dark. No lights blinked and there were no fan or computer sounds, if it even had a computer to make it go. Sri appeared on the kitchen counter and washed his coat briefly. When he ran his tongue with all the tiny barbs in it over his coat, the fur straightened out as if he had used a fine tooth comb. After a few minutes of that, he looked at me and spoke.

“It’s time for us to go back to Cree to go to the evening gathering.” The sun in the sky looked like it was about an hour before sunset at this point.

I put on a pair of walking sandals, thinking we would walk by the stream and down to the village as we did previously. Sri saw in my mind the images I had of the woods and walk. “We’re not walking this time. We can travel by mat since it will come in handy once we get there.”

Now this was a strange concept. Fly by mat? I glanced around the room and saw nothing that looked like a mat. I went into the bedroom area and saw that it had returned to looking like a place I would rest and not to house guests needing multiple beds and a change in clothes. On the bed was what looked like a long tubular yoga bag. I reached inside and then pulled out a yoga mat made out of thick woven cotton.

Sri was behind me. “Take it out to the front porch,” he instructed. Some day you will learn how to pass through doors and walls. But since this is your first time, it’s best to start outside.”

I carried it out to the porch with Sri at my side. I laid it out and smoothed out any wrinkles in the mat. I looked at Sri expectantly for more directions.

“Sit in the middle cross legged. The lotus position where both feet are up on top of your crossed legs isn’t necessary. Having your back straight is. Breathe in deeply and imagine a large golden pyramid surrounding you with the point up above your head. As you breathe out, fill the pyramid with love. When you breathe in again, imagine another large pyramid golden, this time pointed down. Imagine the point down below you underground. As you breathe out, lock the two pyramids together as they form something called Metatron’s cube. You are sitting in the very center between both pyramids. Next, imagine the shape spinning in a figure eight.”

Sitting on the mat, I had difficulty imagining the cube spinning in a figure eight. It got a little muddled in my head as to which point faced which direction and when.

“It might be easiest to visualize if you imagine you are outside the cube and holding it in your hand. You then flip your wrist back and forth into the shape of a figure eight. Focus on the top point of the nested pyramids as it travels into a three dimensional figure eight as your wrist rotates. Then imagine yourself sitting in the large cube again with it spinning again, faster and faster. It will also become brighter and brighter as you do this.”

I imagined the Metatron’s cube spinning faster and faster with me sitting on the yoga mat in the center. The color started out golden, but the faster it spun, the color became more clear. It reminded me of how a window fan looks. When the fan is off, you can clearly see three or four blades. Then, as the fan speeds up, you no longer can see the individual blades as they just look like a whir of motion. At that point, you can look right through the fan blades. The spinning Metatron’s cube looked very similar one I had it spinning fast enough.

“Good. Now the next part is very important. With it still spinning, imagine you are as light as a feather and can fly. Your intention needs to be free of distraction. Focus on flying to the village.”

I cleared my mind and imagined flying. The yoga mat lifted from the porch and hovered out into the yard which was about three feet below. But then I lost my focus as I started wondering about falling. With that, the mat crashed to the ground below in a big thump.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You changed your focus to falling, and so the mat responded in kind. Instead, imagine you are flying and there’s no fear or problem. Let’s make this easy. Focus on the meadow where you first saw your last visitors and imagine just gliding above the ground over to that point. Remember to keep the cube spinning.”

Sri sat on the mat beside me. I again imagined the Metatron’s cube spinning up around me as I sat on the yoga mat, into a blurred figure eight. Then I focused on the meadow. Slowly and silently, the mat lifted up while remaining flat as though it was still on the ground. I was only about three feet off the ground and flew to the meadow in about six seconds, feeling just a hint of a breeze on my skin as I moved. I then landed down gently into the meadow grasses. The grasses flattened where the yoga mat settled down. When I was seated there, I could not see above the meadow grass so a wall of grass surrounded me.

Sri purred and swished his tail with approval. “We are ready to go to the village now. Just do as you did before and this time imagine the village center as the destination.”

Once again I imagined the spinning metatron’s cube and focused on Cree. Then effortlessly again the yoga mat lifted up and we went sailing in the air over towards Cree. We went high about the tree level. I glanced down and saw the waterfalls and stream running like a silver ribbon through the woods, down the valley, and past the gardens. Cree with the bridge, water, buildings, and park-like fields grew larger and larger. Then, the mat slowed down completely as I hovered about ten feet above the center of village near the stone bridge. The mat came down gently to rest.

The traveling time took only about a minute. It went by far too quickly. How I would love to have the mat and Metatron’s cube back in TV World! Sitting in traffic would be a thing of the past.

Sri got up from the mat and walked towards the grassy park just past the buildings. I rolled up the yoga mat and followed Sri.

When I turned the corner past the buildings, I saw what looked like the entire village sitting on yoga mats, all pointed towards the sun. It was time for the evening sun gazing.

I rolled out my mat and glanced at someone to my left side who looked settled and a master of this daily event. I watched him breathe in, hold his breath, and breathe out. I sat cross legged and sat with my arm out and palms up, resting on my knees. I breathed in unison with the people around me. I breathed in deeply, held my breath for about ten counts, then breathed out slowly. My exhale breath was twice as long as my inhale breath. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. I continued in this manner for several minutes.

There were clouds higher in the sky than the sun itself, which was not covered in clouds. The sun lit the clouds up in ribbons of gold, red, orange, pink, and green, changing continuously. The sun itself was a brilliant orange color as it approached the skyline. I watched it sink slowly bit by bit until the last speck of sun had disappeared from view. The colors of the clouds and sky continued to radiate beautiful colors, gaining in depth with each passing moment.

It was now dusk. My eyes had adjusted to see everyone around me. Everyone was still sitting still on their mats, so I complied.

Then, I saw something that was something like fireworks. I say “fireworks,” because these were lights in the sky. There was no boom, sparkler sound, or smell of sulfur. The bright colors were varied in intensity and hue, and flashed in the night sky. Shapes of flowers burst up into the sky from several directions. Then a fireworks “bird” took shape and flew around the sky, followed by a flock of dozens of other bird-like fireworks, all flapping their wings in formation. This was magical and beautiful.

I saw Sri was also enjoying the night display. I asked him what this was all about.

“Every evening, the village gathers for sunset and some group activity. Tonight, we are experiencing the village manifesting Llightworks. Anyone can manifest lightwork images in the sky. There is no competition, such as whose lights are brighter or bolder than another. Everyone can participate and create the dancing and swirling colors. One person starts an image such as the flower or bird, and dozens of other people join in with a similar item so it fills the sky.”

“How often does the village do these lightworks?” I asked. This was better than any fourth of July fireworks display I had ever seen because the things created moved and expanded across the sky and didn’t just originate from one spot on the lawn.

“These are held about once a month. There are many, many other things that could be done in the evenings as well. Everything is with beauty and love. New creative ideas are expressed all the time and shared for all to enjoy. About anything you can imagine with sound, music, shape, and color is celebrated in these gatherings. As we don’t have the distractions of your Internet or TV, this is what we do in the evening.”

I gazed back at the lightworks dancing in the sky. Now the shapes were of vines, intertwining and flashing with colors. The colorful vines twisted and wove with each other as they filled the sky with sparkles of many colors.

Then, the colors faded and the sky was replaced by a massive display of stars in the sky. I held my breath at the display of all the planets and stars. It was much more intense and filled than what I ever saw in TV world.

And then I started to hear a beautiful music that seemed to come from the planets and stars themselves. I had read somewhere that all planets vibrate at different frequencies. There, in Cree sitting on my yoga mat, I could hear the planets and stars singing.

My whole body was buzzing from the energy and music that came from the planets and stars. It was so beautiful. It also made me drowsy. I yawned. I curled up on the yoga mat and fell asleep.

The next thing I knew, I stirred and woke up from sleeping on my yoga mat in TV World.

The adventure continues…

The Village of Cree

I closed my eyes for my morning meditation and cleared my mind. Sri appeared almost immediately. “Today is a big day. Let’s begin.” With that, in my mind he walked through my house and out the front door of my home in TV world. There was a thick fog and I could hardly see three feet in front of me. The mist was cool and clammy. I followed Sri in my mind.

After a dozen steps in the mist, I was right where I had left off yesterday. I was standing on the arched stone bridge overlooking a small town. The mist lifted and I was again greeted with all the intense colors, smells, and sounds of this beautiful world. Speaking of smells, I smelled that wonderful fragrance of fresh bread baking. Following my nose, I went to that shop.

“Oh good. You’re here. You can help me with the bread.” I glanced around the shop which looked like a little bakery with smells of breads and muffins and the like. Before me was a short, slender man dressed in a yellow sleeveless tunic that shimmered with speckles of gold. From my TV world perspective, he looked like ethnically he was a combination of Chinese and Irish, with wavy red hair about shoulder length, freckles, and decidedly Chinese eyes and facial features.

“Well, let’s go. Pick up those and come with me.” He held a loaf and pointed to four other loaves on the counter. He was carrying five loaves.

I followed his instructions and walked with him past the village square to a park like setting along the river, just past the buildings. Many others were gathered there. I set my loaves on a broad table where there was a collection of many fruits, vegetables, nuts, and assorted liquids in pitchers. I glanced around me and then saw villagers of many colors, and sizes. I say colors, because the people were far more varied than I remembered in TV World. On had blue skin with bright green spiky hair and deep green eyes. Another had yellow skin and brilliant long orange hair and what looked like tattoos of tiger stripes across her face and down her neck to her tunic. The tunic was about the only thing that was common to everyone.

I found a spot under a tree and sat there. I had so many questions. I just hadn’t verbalized them.

Sri sat beside me and spoke. “This is your village. This is your soul clan. You all share the same origins, the same dream, the same creation.”

“But why is everyone so different if we are the same origin?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we look like we are from the same race?”

“That is so limited, but understandable. Here, you can manifest however you would like to look. You can change your hair, skin, eyes, height, and even gender if you want. Here you can explore any human shape you want.

“OK,” I responded slowly. “Is that manifestation somewhat how I was able to create the trees early in this story? They can change themselves just as I was able to think and create the trees?”

“Precisely. And much much more. Anything can be manifested that you intend, imagine, and feel into.”

Just then a little girl maybe four years old came up to Sri and me. She had a closed fist hand. She opened it up and exposed a seed. Then, I watched in amazement as in seconds the tiny seed grew into a seedling and then up into a perfect stem with a bud and leaves. Then as if watching a sped up movie, I saw a perfect daisy form. All of this took maybe a minute. She smiled, handed it to me, then scampered off.

“Wow!” I thought, as more profound words escaped me. “Tell me more about this place.”

“There is so much. Where would you like to start.”

“Well, for starters, where are we?”

“We are There. I thought we had established that early on.”

“But where is There? And more specifically, what is the purpose of this village, and all these people? Where were they that they suddenly appeared out of the buildings when the bell rang and are now here on a picnic?”

“Oh so many questions. In time you will remember everything. Where we are now is a village called Cree. This village is a hub for people to learn from the elements.”

“But doesn’t anyone work here? I mean, how do they support themselves and the economy.”

“So many questions. People don’t work here in the way your TV world works. There are no accountants, fast food restaurants, assembly lines, or most of what you are familiar with. There is no ‘supporting’ as you might use the word. There is no need for the exchange of money. There is only the exchange of energy, if you could call that an economy.”

I watched people returning from the table with the tapestry of the fresh fruits, vegetables, and other. I got up and helped myself to a slide of the bread, and slathered it with a coating of fresh honey, then returned to the grass near Sri. I took a bite of the still warm bread and melted honey. It was delicious and unlike anything I had tasted in a very long time. I could taste the love that went into making the bread and honey. It’s strange to say, “I could taste the love,” but that’s the closest I could describe it.

Sri continued. “Here, everyone works for about four hours in the morning, although you might not call it work because everyone does something they love in service to everyone else. I saw you met Aaron in the garden and now Kamal in the bakery. Then, at noon, everyone who desires comes together for a community break and to eat something if they care. Then in the afternoon, everyone goes off to learning, only to come together again for evening gathering, and sunset.”

“What other work is there? I don’t see industries. It’s difficult to imagine how this community can maintain itself. What about food industry? What about health care? What about commerce? For instance, where does the clothing come from everyone is wearing?”

“Let me show you.” Sri stretched, then got up and walked back towards the buildings. He led me to a small, brightly lit building with window boxes filled with flowers outside the door. Inside, the room was bare except for a table with a large clear box. We walked up to the box. “Ask for something,” instructed Sri.

“How about a tunic?” I knew it wasn’t very imaginative, as I had just asked about clothing.

“Give it some intention. Imagine the color, shape, and size. See the tunic on you. Imagine how the texture feels in your hands. See how the light reflects off of it.”

I gazed at the box and imagined a light, fern-green tunic that would fall down to my ankles, made of something that felt as soft as silk yet as strong as linen. Then, there was a mist filling the box for a few seconds, and then a tunic just as I had imagined appeared. One of the walls to the box disappeared and I reached in and pulled out the tunic and held it up in amazement.

“This is how we get everything we need that we don’t make ourselves. Try it on,” Sri suggested.

I quickly got out of my TV world clothes and slipped into the tunic, which was both warm and cool to my skin. I slowly began to understand that anything the villagers needed could be obtained from these creation boxes.

“Now put your other clothes in the box,” Sri instructed. I placed them in the box and watched the mist appear and then become clear and empty again. “Everything is created and returns to Source. We have no landfills or recycling centers here.”

That alone left me in amazement. This reminded me of the science fiction replicators that could make anything. Anything no longer needed or in use was then returned to the replicators. Here was valuable technology in what I thought was a backwards, medieval village!

“What other sorts of work do the people do here?” I asked a if so much could be provided by the replicator, then I had difficulty imagining what work there could be.

“There are artisans who make things of beauty, like paintings, jewelry, pottery, or textiles. There are people who make musical instruments. There are also groups of people who construct together.” We left the little shop and walked across the village center to what looked like a partially constructed building. It looked surprisingly like a pyramid in the making. It was about forty feet square at the base and tapered slightly up. It looked about half complete in my non-technical mind.

“What is that?” I asked looking at the building in progress. I could see tools of sort around the base, and had no doubt that the tools were created in the creation box.

“It is a new healing center. Sometimes a person needs extra time for alignment and renewal. A few people will use it any day as needed. About thirty members of the community are helping construct it. We can observe them another day. Next you will be introduced to our afternoon learning period. But enough for now.”

I felt a fog roll in around me and all around went white. Then, I breathed deeply and opened my eyes from my meditation. I was again back in my TV world, sitting on the floor of my bedroom.

I could hardly wait for what the next day would bring.

Introducing Sri

I left for the YMCA just after six am as I do most mornings to swim laps. I slipped into my swimsuit, put my long brown hair in a pony tail, then put on my gear. I donned a bright pink swim cap, goggles, and a timer that slipped over my index finger. With the timer, I had previously used a lap counter timer which I would tap after I had gone down and back to count as one full lap. I made the mistake and ordered just a counter that ran until you pushed the button again to stop it. But are there really any accidents?

So, once in the pool, I just let it run as I swam back and forth and back and forth in slow breast strokes. Breathe. Stroke. Stroke. Blow out breath under water. Breathe again. Touch the wall, change direction, then continue.

I began to think about my lucid dream a few nights ago where I found myself in a place where I could create my reality. I thought to myself, “When I go back there, I need a guide, someone to talk to who can help me sort all this out.” I swam back and forth in the pool a few more laps, and then imagined I was swimming in a lagoon, with a glistening sandy bottom sparkling like tiny jewels. The sun was warm and bright against my skin. Just then I imagined a dolphin swim by me.

I then imagined I was sitting on a big flat rock at the edge of the water and drying off in the sun and breeze. I was still wearing my swim suit. My goggles and swim cap were gone. I looked around and saw a golden wild cat sitting there sunning himself nearby. I say golden, because he had a golden glow to him, that emanated from what appeared to be inside him. I say wild, because he didn’t look tame, such as curling up on my lap for a nap kind of cat. He stood up, stared at me with large blue eyes, the deep color of the sky on a clear day, stretched, and laid back down.

I was curious who or what this cat was. I asked him, “What are you?”

He sat up, looked at me, and simply said with his mind, “I am that.”

I thought that was a strange way to define yourself. I was hoping for something else, like I am a cat from the mystical island of Mu, a sentry for the gods and goddesses. Something glamorous. Something with mystique. I was hoping for a guide.

He dampened a paw with his tongue then washed the top of his head with that paw. Then he said again, “I am that.”

I was beginning to wonder if he would be like one of those parrots that appear all clever to speak yet have a limited vocabulary. But then he spoke again. “What were you expecting?”

I thought, “Maybe a lion, a dragon, a unicorn, a fairy, or even a mermaid? A cat seems so, um, ordinary.”

The cat paused washing his head and looked at me and said, “I could be in any form, because form does not exist. You imagined me as a cat.”

“Whoa,” I thought. “Form does not exist? What do you mean by that?”

He stopped washing his head and laid back down. The cat sighed. “Look,” he said. “You think you are right now swimming in a pool inside a building. And yet you are here with me now, sitting in the sun. You can feel the sun and can taste the salt spray. I could have come in any form. I could have been that dragon if you wished.”

Immediately he transformed into a towering twenty foot tall green dragon with bright red eyes like rubies. His size blocked much of the sky and sun, putting me into a deep shade. Just his front foot alone was the size of a dinner platter.

“Maybe not that,” I thought. “You’re so big and intimidating looking. Rather than me thinking of you as a guide, I’d be forever thinking about if you’d want me for lunch. I’ll stick with the image of a cat, thank you.”

He laughed, which came out sounding like a cross between a meow and a purr. He then shrank back down into the form of the golden cat sitting before me.

“So what is your name?”I asked. “I don’t want to just call you Cat. That would be so uncultured.”

“I don’t need a name. Names are meaningless. I just AM.”

I felt some sense of deep wisdom coming in those words, even though I was far from understanding them as of yet. It felt like I was speaking to someone ancient, someone wise. I thought of the Indian gurus and guides and how some had the preface Sri (pronounced Shree) before their name as a sign of their position.

“May I call you Sri?” It’s more of a title and not a name. I really don’t want to call you Cat.”

He yawned, curling a pink tongue as his whiskers and ears went back momentarily. Then he said, “If you must. Sri will be acceptable.”

I knew by this time that it was about time for me to get out of the pool. I imagined saying my goodbye to Sri and diving back into the clear blue lagoon waters. Then I checked my watch. Fifty minutes had transpired. I pulled myself out of the pool.

The adventure continues.