1. The Forgetting
You entered this life gently and with purpose, passing through the sacred secret portal – your mother’s womb. Your arrival was guided, like a river finding its way into the sea. You were clothed in innocence, wrapped in a living truth.
But almost immediately, the noise began. The cord that still carried the final transmission of ancestral wisdom was cut too soon. Machines blinked, voices overlapped – doctors calling out numbers, nurses moving briskly, the slap of gloves, the click of pens. Before you could rest in your mother’s arms, hands had already taken your footprints, measured your weight, drawn your blood, and turned your first moments into a checklist. No one told you that you were sacred. And so the descent began – the slow exchange of knowing for names, of essence for identity and a silent veil fell between you and the memory of who you truly were.
2. The Conditioning
The rituals of modern medicine replaced the ancient rites of welcome. Where once there were songs, blessings, and gentle hands, now came the cold glare of fluorescent lights. Needles lined up like offerings from a false priesthood, each piercing not to bless, but to bind – lowering your frequency, silencing the codes written into your blood since before you were born. The sacred transmission from your ancestors was interrupted in the name of science. They told you it was protection, but it was sedation – an initiation not into life, but into forgetfulness.
Even before you tasted your first food, your very first nourishment carried the sting of sterilization – your mother, following the doctors’ advice, washed her breast with a purple antiseptic, potassium permanganate, to kill unseen threats. And so your first milk came laced with the bitter tang of chemicals meant to protect, but they also carried the unspoken message that the world wasn’t welcoming.
You ate what was placed before you, never questioning why it felt empty of life. The meat was grown in cages and factories, stripped of the spirit it once carried. The grains were bathed in chemicals until their natural vitality was gone. The vegetables were picked before ripeness, their sweetness replaced by the taste of transport and storage. Drinks came in bright bottles, sweetened to dull the senses, each sip pulling you further from the living waters your body once knew. You fed the body’s hunger, but the soul’s appetite remained untouched. They called it nutrition; in truth, the soul starved. You forgot the deep green language of leaves, the medicine hidden in bitter roots, the voice of the sun stored in plants.
3. The Disconnection
In buildings that once held ceremony, you learned compliance instead of connection. You were taught the history of the conqueror, the numbers of commerce, the alphabet of limitation, and the spells of black magic disguised as truth – incantations woven to keep your spirit asleep. They never spoke of the cities buried just meters beneath the soil all over the world, nor of the secret temples and pyramids, the lost realms of Great Tartaria, or the sky maps your Atlantean ancestors carved into stone. They never uttered a word of truth about them. And though we know many were destroyed in the fires and rubble of wars, those that remain are shrouded in silence – guarded by those who fear what their existence would reveal.
You sought comfort in dreaming – drinks that blurred your brilliance, lovers who mirrored your longing but not your light, smokes that wrapped you in haze, and pills that dulled the edges of awakening. You weren’t running toward destruction, but away from a reality never meant to be, hiding in the softer shadows of a world that felt like a distorted reflection. The ache in your chest was the constant messenger that something was out of place, that even in your happiest moments the joy never felt complete. It was the quiet reminder that a part of you was missing – the true self, waiting patiently for the moment it could return. The world told you numbness was safer than feeling.
4. The Spark
But the sacred never stopped watching, patient as the stars. One day, the spark within caught fire – not in a sudden explosion, but as a quiet and certain return. It was like a soft dawn breaking inside you, a warmth rising from somewhere older than memory. A breeze you had long forgotten began to move through you, carrying the scent of a home you had not yet reached, but somehow already knew. You saw not just with eyes, but with a knowing deeper than sight. You asked questions that had no place in textbooks. The codes began to crack, and the illusion thinned.
You realized you had never truly been lost – only waiting for the precise moment when memory could return without shattering you. And when it did, you turned toward your past without judgment, as one might look upon an old photograph with understanding. You forgave the self who had walked through darkness, seeing now that every shadowed step was carrying you here. You discovered compassion – not the fragile kind mistaken for weakness, but the fierce and unshakable power that blooms when the heart has survived the storm and still chooses to remain open.
5. The Return
Your bare feet touched the earth again – not for fashion, but for truth. The soil greeted you like a long-lost child. The static in your spirit softened. Nature became your temple and your teacher. You lifted your gaze from screens to the sun – receiving wordless teachings in the gentle gold of morning light, and letting the burning colours of sunset pour their final blessings into your soul.
The sky ceased to be a backdrop; it became a library. Your gaze turned into prayer. You saw the divine in everything, felt the earth and remembered that your choices ripple through unseen timelines. The quiet confidence of nature – the steady vibration that had always surrounded you – was suddenly visible, a living presence you had overlooked until your eyes remembered how to truly see.
6. The Knowing
In remembering, you became untouchable to the lie, and devoted to the truth. You were no longer searching – you were embodying. You understood the power of your thoughts, and then you began reshaping yourself – raising your own vibration. As your inner frequency shifted, you realized it was not only your thoughts, but the very presence of your being that was changing the world around you.
If these words reach you now, it is because you have already begun to return and I am not here to lead you – only to hold up the mirror. Look, and see your radiance. Walk with love. Let the Most High breathe through your every step. I see you. I honour you. We are ONE.
You are not returning to who you were a while ago – you are becoming who you always were beneath the forgetting. The journey was never about finding the light; it was about remembering that you are the light.
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