The Original House – You Can Never Go Home

Story of visiting my original house, where I resided when I began creating this multiverse, to reminisce one final time on the eve of it's destruction
Wooden footbridge in fog – photographer unknown

Remember last time?

My dad/son showed up.  I realized that my chaos family had folded my father-son first seed out of me.  Neither of them realizes it consciously yet, but both my dad and my eldest son are spirit facet and soul fragment pairs connected to the same higher self.  Our pattern has been parent – child – parent, raising one another in progression.  All of my 144 first seeds were split into these parts, divided into 10x10x10 or more each with a different general pattern but some variety too, to live lots of experiences at once, from many different perspectives.  He showed up both as my parent, to remind me to be safe, and as my child, to remind me that I’m a role model and accountable for more than just myself.

As my dad, he said skeptically, “Remember the last time?” I thought back to showing off for him long ago, demonstrating that old thrill when I was already way too big for it.  I remembered that I’d slid down, tearing off shingles left and right and sending rails falling into the abyss.  It hadn’t been safe then – not in a long, long time.  I sensed his unspoken disapproval for what I’d been about to do, as well as his wish that I actually could be young again and enjoy it as it was.  I suddenly felt foolish and my bravado turned to chagrin.

As my son, I felt his supressed eagerness for rule breaking and risk taking, and knew that I didn’t want to encourage that too much.  He’s an adult now and he’s got much work ahead of him, in the big picture.  I remembered that I’ll still be setting an example for all of my kids on all levels, to the very end here.  I sighed and said, “You’re right.  I just like thinking about it.”  I climbed back out of the opening, feeling like the responsible parent and role model again.

Story of visiting my original house, where I resided when I began creating this multiverse, to reminisce one final time on the eve of it's destruction
Mass of rubble from Allied bombings, Aleutian Islands, 1943

Can we play in the garden?

My father-son was gone and Sierra was there now, my daughter in this lifetime and another of my first seeds.  These two have been my kids as a predominant part of their overall karmic pattern.  I haven’t figured out the rest of her pattern with me yet.  She’d also been here before.  I knew that I’d created this home and lived here before they were even born into this creation, but I’d taken them back here for a visit long ago, before it fell into disrepair and decay.  They were the only two of my first seeds who got to visit and see what it had been like.

Now she wanted to run down the spiral staircase into the courtyard and play in the gardens.  I remembered the overgrown yet still magical garden she’d seen last time, and what it was like now – no garden anymore.  She’d loved playing with the spirits that had lived there when I brought her for that visit.  Coming upon it suddenly in its present state would be like finding them all buried here in a graveyard, and she’d grieve their loss terribly.

Not only that, but it’s now filled with broken stone and metal fragments and bits of war weaponry, toxic and dangerous.  I knew she hadn’t been paying attention to the war, and it hadn’t occurred to her that this place had changed at all.  She’s in a lot of denial for now.  I had the urge to leap in front of her and stall her, so I could try to prepare her before she rushed down and saw the destruction firsthand.  I still shield and shelter my kids a great deal.  It’s hard to give up that control and feel them struggle.

Story of visiting my original house, where I resided when I began creating this multiverse, to reminisce one final time on the eve of it's destruction
Spur of the Moment Mine by Ghost Town Explorers

Caught in the act

I must have folded her back into my body for her protection.  The kids were gone and my creator sister Jaya was there.  In the dream I jumped out of my ‘skin’ or form momentarily, then laughed guiltily.  She’d heard that I was there and apparently anywhere one of us goes, the other can just fold out of us, like stepping through a dream doorway.  That gnosis came with the understanding that Hallow was instructing me as Amy, but with an ulterior motive.  I was partly trying to cover for my irresponsibility, and partly trying to distract my sister’s higher self from needling me, by reminding her that my embodied self was consciously along and privy to this dream.  I hoped to direct her focus and attention to ‘us’ sisters and family facets all helping the human part of me to reawaken.

She’s not that easily fooled.  She remained a step back, facing me with eyebrows raised and a smirk on her face.  I admitted defeat, “Okay, you caught me”.  I realized that this visit was not ‘condoned’ and I’d been sneaking around, hoping my sisters wouldn’t find me.  As Amy I didn’t know whether to feel smug that Hallow got caught in the act, or to chafe as the one being scolded.  Can I side with or against my own self?  Maybe they were actually providing me this opportunity, since I still struggle with holding a grudge against myself for my contracts and karma.  I shrugged and integrated with myself again.

I returned to my explanation, reminding myself of what I’ve forgotten.  I fold my facets and first seeds into me or out or me, like tucking them into an envelope or pulling them out of a pocket.  Now I understand how we’re different, able to walk through one another whenever we choose, or feel needed.  That’s a comfort!  I trust Jaya.  It’s good to know how easily my sisters can come to my rescue, and also that I can step into Jaya’s experiences sometime if I ever want to.  Hallow must already do this, but I wasn’t aware of this potential until now.

Story of visiting my original house, where I resided when I began creating this multiverse, to reminisce one final time on the eve of it's destruction
Art Supplies and Tea – by Camille White

You can never go home

Jaya stood beside me and began taking in the whole surroundings in appreciation.  I realized that she had never seen this house.  She said, “I’m glad I got to see this place.”  I said hurriedly, “It’s nothing like it used to be”, and I was going to describe it, like painting the whole scene fresh.  I tapped back into my sorrow and anger over its decline and mentally swept my right arm across the whole space, clearing it.  I didn’t want her to see it as it was now, I wanted her to feel its former beauty, as if she were back in time with me there.  I wanted to start over and recreate it for her.

Instead, in the space while I drew a breath to begin describing it in all its glory, she said, “You can never go home”.  She knew that I had to say farewell, that we couldn’t linger or we’d be in peril, but she was also sad for my loss.  I thought, “You’re right”, and I slumped as my body let go of it once and for all.  I hadn’t realized until that moment that I still held hopes of rescuing and rebuilding it, recapturing the past in the present.

Together we climbed slowly down the long spiral stair to the ground floor, mourning the final farewell.  Then we snuck through the courtyard to leave.  I knew that it would be destroyed that night, gone forever without a trace.

(To be continued)

Hallow ~ May 15th, 2016 (reflecting on May 12th)

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You Can Never Go Home
by Moody Blues

I don’t know what I’m searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.

All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, I’m just another step along the way,

I lie awake for hours, I’m just waiting for the sun.
When the journey we are making has begun,
Don’t deny the feeling that is stealing through your heart,
Every happy ending needs to have a start.

All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, I’m just another step along the way,

Weep no more for treasures you’ve been searching for in vain.
‘Cos the truth is gently falling with the rain,
High above the forest lie the pastures of the sun,
Where the two that learned the secret are now one.

I don’t know what I’m searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.

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