REJUBILATION

REJUBILATION

I saw the shingle hanging from the street. “Guest house for rent.” Turns out to be four small rooms on the back side of a garage. Previously the chauffer’s quarters, I suspect someone’s mother-in-law was its last tenant. I moved into this place on March 31, 2020 and began my quarantine on April Fools’ Day. I’d been looking to rent a cozy little space like this ever since I had that revelation about the future of my existence. I spoke with an angel that night. Well, not exactly. Let me start at the beginning.

I had a dream one night. I dreamed a pinpoint of light was hurling through space. I couldn’t tell if it was the size of Haley’s Comet or a twinkle the size of a lightning bug. Hell, it could have been Tinkerbelle for all I knew. But it was blindingly bright and moving fast, maybe at the speed of light? Ha. I watched it zoom past the outer planets of our solar system and then past our moon and I knew in my heart it was earth bound. I followed its trajectory and quickly realized it was headed to my bedroom. My dreamers’ point of view shifted to the ceiling above my bed. I was having an out of body experience viewing my comfortably sleeping body in the fetal position when that flash of light swooped through the ceiling and rammed straight up my ass. In that instant, my consciousness rejoined my now impaled self.

I awoke simultaneously as the dream ended, my heart racing a million miles an hour and I was propelled out of my bed to a standing position, quaking with the remembered image of the light violating my backside. I was disoriented and full of fear. What the hell was that all about? I wondered. Glancing over my shoulder to spy a presence I felt in my room but seeing no one,

I shivered and went back to bed, I trembled with visions of dread, A voice said “don’t fear”, It sounded so near, “Namaste" is all that it said.

Without speaking a word I asked, "Why the image of a comet zooming up my ass?

"To get your undivided attention." The voice almost chuckled.

What followed was a pictorial recap of my life. I viewed memories in chronological order of everything I had experienced in a lifetime. I saw the boy soprano singing in the Christmas Pageant. There, the older brother whose council is sought by siblings and playmates. Applause and adulation as the curtain fell after a rousing performance. Glory. Satisfaction. Affection. Darker scenes flashed too, and I was shaken by the scope and detail of the visual documentary. I considered this was indeed my life flashing before my eyes. Am I dying? I cried out soundlessly in fear and was calmed instantly when that voice soothed, “Be not afraid. You are reborn to eternal life. There is no death. This is the dawning of re-jubilantcy.”

What followed was a series of visions accompanied by a telepathic dissertation explaining in detail what I should expect. The body I lived in would be transformed, made over, rejuvenated. I would know the joy of reverse aging as in the movie “Cocoon.” My body would heal itself. My attention was then forced to focus on prescriptions bottles on my nightstand. With each label I read, an inner “cease and desist” order was given. The daily collection of vitamins and supplements was eschewed. Eye drops were nixed. I was instructed on what to wear to bed (nothing), what position to start out in, (flat on my back with arms at my side) and what natural ointment I might apply.

I came to find that the “healing hand of god” (if you will) was already with me, at the end of my arm. From the fingertips, particles of energy reminiscent of nano-bots seemed to emanate, which penetrated the skin to root out perceived black, worm-like parasites growing inside. Tissues would be rebuilt and replaced. My broken sternum was the first thing the body concentrated on healing. Deep breathing and “hands on” manipulation every night, as I dozed off, mended the bone. It is healed now. Really.

Sometimes, I’d wake from a deep sleep to realize I’d been pretzel-twisted into an unnatural position; my body contorted in ways I couldn’t have thought possible (given my age and lack of dexterity). And yet in these impossible positions, the healing hand was able to reach around to a place on my back, pinpoint a knot in a muscle, and apply a type of acupressure. I marveled at the accuracy and the intensity of the focused pressure. Momentary discomfort was quickly replaced by relief at the end of the pressure. The strength in my hands was other worldly and beyond my known capacity. Surely these things were not performed at the behest of my conscious will. These healing maneuvers were instigated as I slept and only occasionally woke me to their ministrations. I had little to no knowledge or understanding of anatomy. These ministrations were not directed by me. Onc night I tried to emulate the ministrations by mimicking the movement of phalanges on muscle. I got a vision of a patient parent watching a child trying to tie a shoelace. “Are you done? Ready to let me do my job?" The inner voice of my higher self teasingly, but lovingly, mocked my futile attempts at healing.

During this time, I’d often find my attention drawn to specific charts and information or specific pins on Pinterest regarding anatomy or internal organ placement or diet or nutrition and I was motivated to place these images and articles in a file labeled Rejuvenation. It was as if a computer inside me was gathering information in order to proceed with the next healing task or therapy. This was a phase when I determined the inner voice was not necessarily the creator of all things, but an alien intelligence that had been monitoring my life and was stepping in to set me back on point. Later, my understanding of the inner voice morphed to an image of a future me traveled back in time to set me straight. A more graphic concept of a symbiont lying dormant inside me had waited for the egoistic me, my ID, to ask for its assistance. I know now it is the voice of my higher self, my better self, the best me and its origin is internal.

For the last two years I have, of my own free will, asked that inner voice to take the helm, allowing it to guide my every move. And yet I am secure in the knowledge that I can exercise free will at any time. I can choose to stop this process. I don’t have to surrender or submit; I need only cooperate. At the same time, I am aware that to exercise my free will and take back control of my path, my direction would result in an immediate secession of the healing I am so pleased with. I am reminded that I can go back to how it was any time I want. But I am also aware that to do so would be to turn my back on the promise of eternal life, an existence abounding with love and joy and peace. I would have to turn my back on a world of no pain, a world of abundance.

So, I continue to let my higher self “man the reins.” I found it changed my diet by alerting me to the voice of my body telling me what it needed and what it no longer wanted to digest. Red meat went away, then pork, then chicken, then fish. Well, not salmon steaks. I found myself buying fresh vegetables and trying plant based “meat” products. I stopped taking prescriptions, and I experienced real healing from within exclusively as I slept. My body is, indeed, healing itself.

That once excruciating pain in my shoulders, that toenail fungus, the eczema on my legs, the pain in my lower back, the knots in my muscles that caused cramping and spasms, all gone now. I’ve dropped twenty pounds. I have less shortness of breath. Sure, I still have problems. My eyesight is not 20/20 yet. The teeth I’ve had pulled have not regrown. The promise of the visions in the beginning suggested this physical body would be healed AND transformed. But I was also reminded that I hadn’t brought my body to its decrepit condition overnight, Rejuvenation takes time and faith.

This quarantine is part of the plan. The caterpillar is silent through its metamorphosis. I am forced to be quiet and listen too. At the conclusion of this sequester, from this tiny house I now inhabit will emerge the real me, the inner me, the best me. You will do similar transformations. The divine-human hybrid we all really are will emerge. The purpose of my transformation, of all our transformations is to demonstrate to us all that we are truly in this together. We are one species. We are all divine-humans and there is no limitation to our power or creativity. After all, we collectively created humans and soon will emerge as the symbiotic creatures we always intended us to be. Divinity will inhabit material bodies and co-inhabit those vessels as long as they please; that is as long as they please themselves they’ll be able to please others. The key is to remember our purpose here and to embody unconditional love.

I’d worked on creating this, my decrepit self, for sixty-five years before beginning this rejuvenation process. The metamorphosis may take several years. But I can see progress being made. You can see that progress is being made. I not only feel younger every day, I look younger every day, I am younger every day. Think Benjamin Button, but with a built in stopping point at age twenty-five. We have free will to determine what we want to look like, what age we want to be and how good we treat ourselves and others. We are eternal, we are all powerful, we are one. Dare I suggest we are benevolent Borg?