https://www.enfoldednature.com/images/torus-field
I have a maddening friend. I’ll call her Becka. She frustrates me to no end; is fully inexplicable in her thinking, dismisses inconvenient information, is often contradictory and really, often infuriating.
I love her.
She had an episode a couple nights ago, went unconscious at a restaurant for 10 minutes. Apparently she blacked out while sitting, listening to her husband, (I’ll save the jokes for later) who apparently didn’t notice she’d gone unconscious until a nurse at a nearby table pointed it out to him (snide remarks for another time) and then who helped get Becka prostrate on the floor and called for help.
They thought it was a stroke initially, but it was ultimately diagnosed (thank fully) as caused by dehydration. It was very hot day, and she’d swam a lot, now at dinner, was drinking something with alcohol, contributing to the dehydration.
I realized in learning about this what her loss would mean in my life. The reverberations of it. I honestly did not like acknowledging to what degree it would impact me and the larger neighborhood. It would be a major loss.
Becka and I managed through our relationship during the pandemic. She even watched the videos and read the articles I sent. She never saw me as an enemy or reduced me to a catch-phrase. She appreciated that I cared enough about her to send her the info. Ultimately - to my dismay and confusion - she and her husband still took the jabs.
I expressed my disappointment and concern but also my acceptance of their choice.
When Becka was diagnosed several months later (after her 2nd Pfizer) with breast cancer, I said nothing about the injection. Of course.
Many months after that, when she was cleared, post surgery, of the cancer, she asked if I thought the shot had something to do with it.
She could be brave like that, ask a direct question, and then in the next moment, snap back into denial.
I told her I had no idea. But that, cancers had been going up post shots. I shrugged. “Impossible to know. Just don’t get any more please.”
Becka promised she would not, said she thought she’d be fine, and then changed the subject. She’s a perfect example of someone who wants to be in the know but doesn’t want to really know.
I have other friends like that too. The incentives to not understand what’s happened here, are powerful.
I get it, too. If Becka were to ‘dive in’ to the upsetting data, really understand that Pfizer knew the dangers of the shots - as the Daily Clout team has clearly demonstrated - as well as the CDC and FDA and that the DOD we fund, was actually behind it all and worked in cahoots with them, well… that would be too much. It is all too much.
There are times, small fleeting moments, where I envy the normies.
More significantly, she’d have to confront difficult feelings with loved ones. She had called her nephew - who works at Pfizer - before making her decision. It was he who tipped the scales in favor of getting it. As she told me, he assured her, it was the right choice. He’s a smart guy, a scientist - he knows.
I kept my mouth shut. I’ve known her nephew since he was born. I know how the indoctrination educational system takes really smart people and turns them into arrogant ignorants. It’s horrid to watch really. They are so clueless and so confident at once. Of course I couldn’t say any of that.
I love her nephew too. A sweet, intelligent, good person who has no idea. (Although maybe he’s figuring it out? I don’t see him much anymore.)
Still ending up on different sides of the jab divide, was not an issue for my friendship with Becka. I give her credit for that. A genuinely tolerant person. Open minded, though, still lodged primarily in normie-land.
Post Covid, there is now a mostly new group in the neighborhood, and this is largely due to Becka’s ability to connect people.
As I was realizing the extent to which I’d feel her loss, have relied her connecting me to others, it hit me, viscerally, that we will all, most likely, be dealing with so much loss. The impact a single person can have, is inestimable.
It’s one thing to talk about living during times of collapse, it’s another thing to feel the loss of every unique person. The heartbreak of that. Magnified out into the many fields we share. How do we even prepare for that?
I mostly write high-level, big picture. And I recognize that is, partly, a way of shielding me from feeling it at a heart level. We have to take things in as we can, bit by bit, I guess.
I was blueberry picking yesterday with another friend and her twin 3 year old grandkids. A perfect day really - sun and puffy clouds, the temperatures in the 70’s, the humidity at bay. As I was telling her about Becka’s episode and my reflections on how it hit me, (she knows her well too, though spends less time with her) she un-ironically replied, “Oh, it would be awful if you didn’t have Becka to complain about.”
Funny not funny.
She actually wasn’t trying to criticize me - she finds Becka frustrating too. But the comment was a reality-check for me. I do complain a lot about her. And that too is a way to keep distance, to keep from feeling her importance in my life.
My blueberry-picking friend was right - it really would be awful if I didn’t have Becka to complain about. Her absence would change my life significantly and the lives of many others.
I called Becka yesterday to follow up and see how she was doing. As we wrapped up the conversation, I made sure to tell here - “I love you” - something she is far more likely to say to me. I will tell her that more often going forward.
I’ve written how I see the pressure of these times having an inversely positive effect on humans. Those who survive it anyway. It’s the diamonds-in-the-making phenomenon; the if it doesn’t kill you it makes you stronger thing.
The corral they want for us has moved from its unseen psychological/emotional fencing to outright physical containment with the planned 15 minute cities, digital ID’s and CBDC’s.
Everyone has their breaking point; we can cover ourselves in the comfy blanket of normalcy-bias for only so long. As the corral gets smaller, we will inversely, get bigger: the incredibly shrinking corral unleashes the incredibly expansive you.
I don’t know what the future looks like. I hope and pray for grace and ease as we continue through this dismantling. I remind myself there will be opportunities - many - running right along side the unraveling. There will be new networks and possibilities. Good turns we didn’t anticipate.
There will be newly energized people, fortified with their desire to overcome the attempts at imprisonment, determined to be free and leave a free planet for their children and grandchildren. We don’t know yet what that kind of passion can create.
The communities that form during extreme difficulties will likely be tight. They’ll have to be. We will need each other.
And that’s perhaps a big part of the greater lesson during these times. It is for me, I know that. Much will come down to those bonds that tie us, that make our respective worlds meaningful, warm and human.
I wonder if in the near future we will learn to harness the kind of information that will strengthen those bonds between us and our planet? I think so. Here’s a short clip (3 mins) from The Heartmath Institute on how just 15 minutes focused on radiating love will synchronize us with each other and the earth.
Just remarkable in its power and astounding in its simplicity. What else can we do that we simply haven’t yet imagined?
Keeping our hearts open during difficulty and loss will be a challenge. Yet it clearly beats the alternative of shutting them down.
As the saying goes, there’s no way out but through.
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You always make me happy, Kathleen, and in tune with the resonance. Before I even read this piece, I had turned the photo into my new desktop. Some SW upgrade lost the one I took from your previous article and I was mourning that. But then it made way for this glorious thing. A metaphor?
Three months ago, when I was last in Cumberland, I heard from my daughter that the same thing had happened to my ex. He was sitting at dinner and was suddenly not there, with one eyelid drooping. His sister was also at the table, whose husband has the sudden Stage 4 pancreatic cancer I've mentioned. His partner's family is full of medical indoctrinees, aka professionals, so my ex was taken to the hospital and given lots of tests that all came back negative for stroke. He's been prescribed something for blood pressure, I think.
First, it felt strange to know that my husband of 25 yrs would have a life-threatening event and I wouldn't be told. Second my youngest daughter's boyfriend got the bivalent flu shot and passed out in the stall of the gym bathroom the same day. He attributed it to dehydration. It's not, imo.
Thank you for doing such a great job of staying human, keeping us human. I was yesterday feeling immersed in darkness, researching a new topic that's really disturbing me. Your emphasis on love is much appreciated.
Outstanding! Kathleen. Thank you for this so simply and beautifully worded, heartfelt story. I wholeheartedly commiserate with and totally appreciate what you've shared here.