For they know that love is freedom

Eventually we find someone
Or maybe they find us...
Who has no desire to change us
For they love us exactly as we are
Who has no desire to control us
For they know that love is freedom
Who has no desire to belittle us
For they yearn to see us grow
Somebody who communicates
Only in the vibration of love
Somebody who creates a safe space
For us to knock down our walls
And somebody whose only desire for us
Is that we follow our bliss
In this sanctuary of love ...
There is no drama
No criticism
No jealousy
No manipulation
No attack
No neediness
Only love
Acceptance
And freedom
When we find this somebody...
Or maybe they find us
We finally understand....
Why we had to go through all the pain

~Written by Karen Star

a little forward movement on the scale of evolution

We all come to a point in our lives whereby the things that would break our heart, do not. You can experience things and still keep that song in your heart.

This month has been really testing for me, mainly on the days I am at work in Mitcham and having to deal with the disturbed public there. Daily, I meet unaligned people, far removed from anything divine and spiritual, misunderstandings abound. I have had at least three women entirely waste precious hours of my life with their blatant lies and ****.

Unfortunately, my intuition either doesn't kick in or I am not listening to it. Had I known, I would have behaved differently. I'm so behind on my other work, it's like trying to hold onto a thousand strings.

Since I began fasting at work, I escape to the local park during lunch, so I can breathe and regain what little dignity I can. Thankfully, it has been sunny and dry in London in order for me to do this.

Today, I accidentally bumped into my friend in the supermarket. He's changed his working hours for the holy month, and so he finishes at 7:00pm. We both were tired from thirst and fasting, and he was stressed - sigh. I wonder if there will ever be a time of freedom and laughter and good stuff.

But I was happy to see him - it has been three months since we last saw each other.

And this time I could see that all of my airs and graces had been swiftly taken from me. Part of this was a result of spending time with my "Sufi" cousin when I was in Toronto, without the airs and graces I used to hold so dearly to myself. He can see thrugh most people, most of the time, most of the way. (Lol.)

I was myself, if a bit lost for the real words and topics due to fatigue.

I ended up getting him some Oreo chocolate, as that's really the only thing I knew he would actually like and eat - he refused to tell me what to get him for his iftaar. God, please bless my friend with the real light you blessed me and my cousin with.

But the desperation and clinging is long gone. If I don't see him, I am contented. This is a major achievement of my soul, which I am acknowledging publicly. I used to cry with real pain in my heart, and wish I could have him for myself. Funnily enough, two nights ago, the same toxic unhelpful regrets about how single I am at age 34, and how no one really wanted to be with me went through my energy field and I cried so much. There was pain in my heart and brain, and I had to place selenite on those areas to extract the pain. It was a much deeper level of healing and acceptance that was needed.

I just want my own husband, and my own happiness now. Without the rubbish that I take almost weekly from certain people I work with, the unhappy ones disconnected from themselves and addicted to alcohol, lying, complaining, and the rest of it.

I truly wonder if this will ever happen?

But then, other things have taken place as well. My dear Moshi died last Thursday - he was put down after being run over by a car. Moshi was my cousin's spoiled cat, but we all loved him SO very much.

I cried a lot for two days. Now I am okay with that.

I fell so ill over the weekend, that I was unable to leave my bed for most of it - such a frustrating, repetitive pattern. It really confounds me how to move forward with this.

My Rahaani teacher told me if I am not self healing, journeying to see my guide, or healing another person, then no wonder I am not highly intuitive and my world isn't going quite as I would like.

I just feel it gets too much to bear sometimes.

I hope you understand the depth of what I mean, and not see this as more complaining and ingratitude. Not that there's anything wrong with being in that state for a while.

I'm still missing the bus, and now they are almost empty buses in the morning. But having missed those buses, I have bumped into very attractive, handsome, well dressed and seemingly kind and benign desi men - who may or may not be single, and may or may not be my spiritual/romantic matches.

Let us see. At the very least, I make more of an effort when getting ready for work in the morning :)

Today was the 6th of the month of Ramadhan. I am technically in eitikaaf, and speaking to His creatures is a part of this eitikaaf. I have and am reflecting upon my core fears and my failings, mistakes, and negativities and asking for help to move beyond all of this.

According to my psychic, I still have to go through another month of utter bull until hopefully my life will be "for real" lighter and filled with Allah's grace.

But I notice I am using the pronoun "I" still.

Speaking of which, my two books arrived - The Degrees of the Soul and The Forty Rules of Love.

I'm going to inundate my energy with Light until I become it.

No other choice; the way of crap and delusion and destruction doesn't work.

Water says, "How will you be made clean without me?"

Water says to the dirty, "Come here."
The dirty one says, "But I am so ashamed."
Water says, "How will you be made clean without me?"
Rumi, Mathnavi

~~~~~~~

You remove the thoughts that create a life form.

The energy comes back for a while, and you feel like your blood has become liquid gold for a while.

I have more energy.

Two days ago, with the precision of timing that only God has mastery over, and with my surrendering to my intuition, I met my soul mate whom I had not seen in 8 months due to his fears and blockages from his wife.

He apologised to me in very clear and detailed words. no running, no hiding behind a silent wall. I fell in love with him all over again (not that I had stopped). A perfect present... but there is nothing I can do. When someone gives away all of their power to their spouse, whereby she is checking his phone and emails, and doesn't allow you to experience the delicate nuances of human relationship. When he lacked the courage to text or call me in 8 months, and not really care how many nights I cried, or the pain that is still playing up every once in a while... well, then he isn't ready for me to be in his life.


As a friend.

I would never break up anyone's marriage or partnership (how egotistical is that thought? that someone else is the cause or source of my happiness or my peace), and this one obviously has been going very well for eleven years. They had their third child in September 2017.

I ain't that desperate for companionship (not any longer, that is).

I told him, "I know I deserve better."

This life teaches you that there are things that are more important than coupling. being okay with being alone, and being the main cause for this loneliness, for one.

The funny thing is I thought of him two days ago watching one of those YouTube videos about picking cards regarding exes. For him, the green crystals came up, as in he thought of me as a friend and was an angel in my life. All that is true.

But the love between us is so strong, I was surprised after 8 months, I still have exactly the same force of love and attraction and affection towards him. No change. As always, there was the electric charge that occurs whenever we are in the same vicinity, in the same room.

But I am thankfully not the same soul I was 8 months ago. Or rather, not the same human. I am forcing myself to surrender to whatever the reality is.

If I cast so many wicked, dark magic spells upon myself throughout the years and existences, it will take some time for them to wear off.

I had the witch-like entity removed exactly two weeks before. And, after 8 months after being so broken and in pain and hurt, and him ignoring me once when I was at the grocery store, we meet - with the precision of seconds. Had I left work earlier or had I been sidetracked with going to the second building to drop off leaflets for my colleague, I would have missed him. I left the leaflets because they were too heavy. And was angry at myself for not bringing them when it would have taken just two extra minutes to drop them off.

But those two minutes would have meant never meeting my Punjabi soulmate that evening.

He asked me to forgive him... he looked towards the skies in what seemed a gesture of awe and gratitude and said, "Well, it was meant to be that we met".

"I don't want you to think that I ever thought of you in less of a way. I don't want you to think that it was me who sent you that message.

"It wasn't you?"

"It was my wife."

I always am amazed how he keeps calling her his wife, instead of by name. I would always call them by their names. There must be some anger toward her on his part. He must feel the trappings, the energetic shackles and enslavement - he's really not that unintelligent or in denial (I would hope not.).

"You have no idea how many times I dialled your number and then cut off the call."

He alone has the right to break,
for he alone has the power to mend.
He that knows how to sew together
knows how to tear apart:
whatever He sells,
He buys something better in exchange.
He lays the house in ruins;
then in a moment He makes it more livable than before."

Rumi, Mathnavi, 1, 3882

"But I never received any call!"
"Yes, because I cut the call before dialling. I just had no idea what would happen if I did, and I couldn't take the risk. The guilt has been eating me up."


"Ab aisa lag raha hai ke thhora dil ka bojh kum ho gaya..."

Honestly? I couldn't write a script better than this - and he's not even for me. Well, my hair could have been prettier and breath fresher. Haha. Note for next time... except, again, had I stopped to freshen up at the office before leaving, I'd have missed him!

But maybe the script my soul is writing is the one of unconditional love. Not having anyone in your life, and forcing yourself to forgive his insecure wife, his own ego, and release the attachment. To spread your love to others, including some (there are many in London) arseholes that have crossed you.

If he had allowed me, I'd have given him a massive hug and a kiss. But Sukaina was not allowed to show her love and affection to him, as has always been the case. And so he drove off in his silver car, not even willing or able to offer me a lift to the bus stop.

The funny thing about him is I picked up on his beauty whilst walking past his car, and dared to look again - it was my soul that said, "look at this handsome guy. It is safe to look - to engage with life" - my default has been to ignore people and glaze my view. Something about those Muslim beards gets me into a hypnotic state. Thank goodness, he cut it back to regular size. There had been a phase whereby he was doing a some really weird things with that beard of his.

And then I recognised him.

He recognised me.

And I called out, "Can you talk to me?"

He said "I can, now."

And the best thing about him is there is almost no drama. None at all. Comfortable like an old pair of sneakers. Like a fleece blanket. Like my neighbour's cats.  Like a cup of cocoa with marshamllows and cream.

His is a soul I could hug forever. The kind of feeling I want to feel when I finally meet my own life partner. Just warm and fuzzy. Instant trust and faith. God energy.

The refined, perfect merging of the divine feminine and sacred masculine.

For 8 months, my belief has been he just doesn't care. And it is correct - one has to be really distracted and in fear to not clear up any misunderstandings.

A simple text or phone call would be all that it took. But he hasn't gotten to that level as yet.

And on the night of the solar eclipse, he showed me just how MUCH he loves and cares for me. I can never doubt it again. But, again, there was a heat of mutual love and care, of respect and of compassion, and none of the crap that I was feeling before: no anger, no hatred, no desire to get in the last word. I just spoke too quickly again.

It's the kind of friendship we both would grow from and find immense freedom in. And fun. But, as it stands... he closed off at the end, probably feeling guilty about his wife. Honestly, what is it with us humans and operating our beautiful, free existences based on the core trappings of guilt and fear?

I did tell him, "You need to have courage. Aise rishtey bohot kam milte hain. If anything changes, give me a call. Or text."

All he said was, "I'll see you around, maybe." He stiffened up, went back to reality.

I do NOT envy him, in spite of the fact he has a loving wife and three beautiful children, and an active social life, and loving family.

Since this isn't quite working in my favour, more entities are in need of removal, more curses. We both were standing out in the cold on the pavement for half an hour, rather than in a nice cosy coffee shop or restaurant. I didn't even think of asking to sit in the car to talk, and even if I had, I wouldn't have asked. He would have gotten the wrong idea of what my intentions are.

I just hope he chooses me as his spouse or girlfriend the next time we both incarnate together. What the **** is the point of incarnating with all of these beautiful soulmates, meeting them online or in the flesh, and NOT ****ing ending up with any of them? Hello?

This is so difficult for me. We were both here when we were teenagers but I never met him then, did I? I always, ALWAYS, find them AFTER they have already married the women they are meant to be with. It was the curse I put upon myself at age 13. The ridiculous Jane Austen curse.

And I accept that I made such a horrible thing happen to me. I wanted to experience this level of indescribable pain, I guess.

However, after feeling like there was something fundamentally wrong with me that no man I loved loves me back, and each of them have hurt me, Allah graced me with the clear sign that He can make things happen with such precise engineering, I still can't believe it. I've still been going to the grocery store, but never seeing him and have become so okay with it, I don't even look for him.

Allah also is reminding me that, contrary to how my family feel about me, how certain female friends feel, and contrary to every shitty thought I have had about myself and my life, he loves me. No question.

Such a sweet, kind, soft man. So soft and stable and loving, I melt into his energy and never want to leave (unless he's acting upon his ego, which is infuriating).

May I find one with all of their good qualities who had true courage and spiritual fire, such that he knows straight away that we are connected and is willing to sacrifice for the union.

Or else, give me two healthy cats to have as my children!

(Ideally both, but as they say, "laazim nahin hai ke dunya ke saari khushiyan kamaa le tu...").

And then, today, I lost all energy and vitality, I've been lying in bed all day "sick". I hope I didn't create a sadness and frustration entity that's sucking me dry.

Oh, this spiritual path!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm reading a few Sufi books I finally got after my friend got mad at me for not reading from the masters and going to hacks and charlatans for healings and knowledge.

The Knowing Heart and Living Presence, both by Kabir Helminski who has a soft, fluid way with words.

And a book by Chishti about Sufi healing...title to be added when I find the book somewhere in my room.

Starting with what is familiar and warm, what I know... my soul isn't as old as I wanted it to be, and I am now accepting of all of that.

I still mess up in social situations, and still don't have control over my own life... the small things, the larger things.

Experiencing such extreme fatigue and a buzzing that won't let me sleep or meditate or pray. Or do anything I need to do.

All is as it is.

Without needing to justify the act of writing

And then there came a point in the life of my life when I asked myself, what happens when you truly have lost your craft? When it feels like that was the most previous thing you owned or made an identity around that the universe asked you to give away in order for peace to reclaim itself inside your cells? Or something as fancy as that.

I celebrated an anniversary yesterday. Seven years of the prodigal daughter returning to Anglo-Saxon ground in order to conquer and heal an entire planet. In layman's terms, I returned to the UK with full intentions of qualifying as a counsellor and something else random. What was not on the original flight plan was the entire "waking up and becoming divine" section.

No one was notified of this anniversary. I felt had I mentioned it to anyone, I would not be able to maintain their questions online (as, currently, there is no one to maintain a gaze with. Yet another sentence I write and wish I was back in the 90s with those enormous Mac computers and hideous green computer screens. As a generation, we grew up way to fast - now we all are facing the facts about chem trails, thousands of dead salmon washing up on the shores of Southern Chile and false flag media stories.).

It is truly unsafe now for anyone of my generation to indulge in nostalgia or nostalgic stories of the past. They were all mental constructs. Our DNA was a lot denser then than it is now, therefore life didn't feel as heavy - but that never means it wasn't that heavy.

I can't seen any justification for me to continue to believe something about the Soul Plan Contracts, about my solely being a writer. What can a writer do but write?

This planet needs real action. Energies removed and energies revived.

Someone was having a clear out yesterday (I was helping with the clearing out) and gifted me a sizeable pile of unused writing paper, including two legal pads.

My writing had a different tone to it when in medium yellow background. I just wrote and wrote, without the fear and the constriction I have been feeling for a very long time.

Yet writing can only do so much and I have now realised that my soul signed up for more active role in soothing this planet.

Opinion is free, but let's not make it cheap.

You learn to read and write and somehow feel that society and human civilization will evolve even further. Yet something in me refuses to go to that next stage when my young child in Syria has just been gassed with some awful unknown chemicals. How can anyone not see?

The relatively superficial talk and discussions I have overheard or taken part in over the last few years are now beginning to come back up at the back of my throat.

Every day I waste looking for another cupboard cut-out job, meant for the candidate to fit the job and smooth over the rough, unique, human, divine edges of their being when necessary, is another day a child starves, an animal is killed for meat, people are beaten up in India BECAUSE an animal is killed for meat, and the insane policies are continues and everything that was originally designed to benefit humanity, including this very computer I am typing at, has now all turned against us because we are empowering ourselves.

Every time I sense a hit of my own power back, either I or something external does all it can to destroy it.

You can't really talk about this things yet in large circles to people who would understand. Understanding, we all have, I stand corrected. But the depths of the concern for this planet is increasing every day. I can't sleep well, I can't relax enough 

There is a divine reason why my blog is seriously under the radar and I don't really invest enough time or energy into it.

I do have a remaining trace of seemingly real fear of the consequences of speaking up to boldly and too loudly.

And secondly, actions are what this bleeding and totally molested planet needs.

I can write many poems or angry posts, but nothing I write will stop the Fukushima nuclear really affecting us. The children, the poor, the.... at times like these, I really must learn to breathe deeply.

It's worse than the worse horror flick. It's REAL. So in relief, in harsh relief, all the superficial advertisements that encourage us to consume, or celebrate National Hat Day (seriously, have we devolved to this - a National Day for things to somehow regulate our emotions and obedience levels - to ascertain citizenship, which - how many times does this need to be repeated - is an entirely human man-made construct that means jack all. I've had British citizenship all my life and am still being regularly screwed over by our darling insane politicos. They have some emotional or mental health issues - no regular person would ever pass laws and regulations that they have to harm the entire population of humans and chop us at our knees so we have to fight so much harder to get to highest potential levels. It should never have been this challenging to get to where you wish to in 2017 - and that child pedophilia and sex trafficking is really happening and not a top priority - a flipping trident nuclear war system has priority over everything sane and humane. And this why I can't keep genuine hundred per cent respect for people who are in charge of charities yet grovel towards the establishment - something is amiss when you do that.

Dignity of the human soul and divine spark is paramount in our lives and it is TIME we woke up to that simple truth.).

When I started waking up 7 years ago, I was full of zeal because it was new and I assumed it also promised me a breakthrough that I needed and didn't get when I had gone on spiritual pilgrimage to Iran in 2007.

In 2017, the illusion that 2012 or 2016 would bring relief is gone. It won't happen in my lifetime.

I am unsure how a planet would sustain itself having being so severely raped, poisoned and disrespected.

When we look at it from the slightly pessimistic lens I have been seeing things, it seems fair to say I believe in an overarching being who is omnipotent and therefore has powers to click re-set or destroy and rebirth.

There are now perhaps too many voices and egos grappling for various resources that may actually turn out to be finite. Miracles abound but if the human race still insists on being in grunt mode (grunt mode being not waking up and living life in a two-dimensional egoic state, just as a five year old would behave perpetually), I honestly don't understand how Gaia can continue to take all the beating and still feel dignified.

Of course, that is why I am here and why a lot of us are here and went through a lot of stuff in order to wake up. being woke is not pleasant. I told my father that a day ago when I showed him the chem trails and he began mocking me with his laughter that sometimes sounds terrifyingly canned.

I promise you, none of us will ever get so bored that we invent lies and conspiracy theories to keep ourselves entertained. Most of us still wish that the planet just contained light and fluffy cotton candy. Chem trails? I'd never be able to dream of that stuff in a million years. Yet, someone did. I have had some thoughts that I probably picked from the collective unconscious and those are better dissolved. Not pleasant. Not even not acted upon in history.

Some days, I wish I was still unawake. I might relax and not have the quite constant panic episodes on the London underground. They kick up worse when unsettled people clamber onto the tube with all their content and expect me to sort it out energetically.

I have just gotten fed up of that and leave my seat and many times the train carriage and have waited for the next train.

It is also deeply disheartening to think that after seven years of promises and eloquently written articles about critical mass and first wave and second wave people, we still have so many people who are unawake.

I still don't meet people in my daily life to whom I can speak to, people who would become my allies and my vision community.

All the light workers I know are going through immense personal issues, not very pleasant and seem to enjoy being lone rangers or led like sheep by those flashy gurus who give you wrist bands to wear as yet another sign of branding.

So, for now, writing will need to be not as important as waking up and taking action.

Our waters are being polluted. Does that not make you feel sad? People at Standing Rock were entirely humiliated for wanting clean drinking water. Do we not see what's happening?

Water.

Our food is being poisoned and manipulated beyond belief? Does that not make you question? The honey bee is going to become extinct. They are dying. How is this even happening?

Vulnerable people are being told they can't have tax money for food and medicines, yet Amazon and Costa Coffee and all the big companies DO NOT PAY TAXES in the UK and ARE STILL being REWARDED for that? Does that not even make you flinch?

HSBC. Enough said.

Animals are being maimed, tortured, killed for meat and fur, for being a boy if it is a baby chick.... since when did we forget that animals are a part of us, a part of our souls?

The UK still has a redundant monarchy that perpetuates itself by painting itself as fluffy and benign. Why do we not see what's going on? I hope Diana Spencer and Modi al Fayed didn't both get assassinated in vain.

We do not need all of the flashy stuff, not when my brother is dying in Somalia in a famine and the only one with a heart is a basketball player who is being humiliated for being true and down to earth. But you see, at the end of the day, he is the one flying 50 tonnes of food to Somalia.

A friend of mine asked me recently how is it that all the New Age articles and books seem to still focus on the fluffy stuff, not talk about what real spiritual journeys are about? They are dark beyond belief and calling it a dark night of the soul doesn't put meat onto things.

She and I came up with the theory that the authors a) haven't really gone through the darkness like we are going through b) they have gone through it but either wanted to forget about it or didn't know how to help others through it so remained silent and c) are heavily guided and edited by publishing companies, including Watkins. There's also this inherent obsession with keeping positive and not manifesting crap through thoughts and words.

She also feels that because there are many younger souls waking up, the authors and teachers don't want to scare them off by telling them all the dark stuff is real and that every soul that dies before it's biological death will have to taste the darkness of the Shadow! I agree. It's intense and makes you question your entire reasons for being.

But today, whether it was due to the yellow legal pads or my having shamanic cord removals last week, I wrote and I wrote.

Without needing to justify the act of writing.

And I yearn for the day I can just be the writer and everyone is sorted. Not having to justify my yearning for putting magical words to paper and seeing them ignite a soul in a way I had not anticipated.

But, not now.

Now, we are activists and we bloody act in the name of what is decent and honourable. We stick it out. We get the strength from wherever we possibly can.

For they underestimate the human spirit. Or rather, the divine that resides within each of us.

We all have free will and most of us will choose to continue being asleep and never waking up. There are myriad reasons for why a soul would choose that actively on a daily basis. One of the simple truths is that becoming awake ain't for sissies. And so the younger souls are buffered with delicate veils of illusions to play around in until such a time when they are strong enough to bear different planes of reality.

I know I am one of them and have 
         accepted this 

as it brings me towards humility and 

               whilst prostrating 
                                     at the dust of my Beloved's feet, 
                                                                             I find great heights

Parting the Red Sea

I remembered Moses yesterday.

He is one of the mentioned prophets. Raised as a prince. Led a nation. Manifested miracles. Killed a man, was forgiven for it. Learnt to transcend his anger and impatience. He settled down and had a family. Meditated for forty days and nights and his nation went astray - again. His right hand was Aaron, the next in line for prophethood. He turned staffs into snakes.


Yesterday, I remembered him as the child in the reed basket, floating from the arms of one loving mother into the arms of a second loving mother.


Betrayed by memories of a prophetic dream, he was presented with a plate of dates and a plate of live, hot coals.

He had a choice. He had a choice between the easy life and a more arduous life.

He was divinely guided toward the easy life: to save his earthly life and allow him to fulfil his destiny, he burnt his mouth permanently when he chose the glowing coal and attempted to eat it.

Only after which was he able to accomplish everything that is mentioned in the holy books.

It was only after he burnt himself as an innocent child who had forgotten his path that he, much later, was in a divinely destined position to part the Red Sea and bring his people to their unique salvation.

Not before.

*** 

I can relate to some of that.

***

Which parts of your forgetful Self now need to be burnt for Me before you can be raised to the level of Moses and part your own Red Sea on your way to liberation?

Irretrievable, Lost

Where to has their Spirit flown?
Why does the blankness behind their eyes afrighten me so?

Is it because I placed them above me as my gods?

And now, when I have toppled them and
hacked them to pieces,
in an attempt to excavate their core,
their putrid carcasses remind me of my folly?

I am bereft,
bereft.

I am afeared,
afeared of all those moments
lost into the nothingness.

I desperately seek them out.

I wish to reclaim those precious pearls;
those granules of Time I can now put to better use.

I call out to them, begging You for reprieve.
For redemption.

For a miracle through which I can reclaim
those scattered parts of my Soul,

a spare sliver, an empty husk
of the life-term of any of Your creatures,
to add unto mine,

that which was casually bled in vain.

Unaware,
asleep and entirely void
of God-consciousness.

But Thou Knowest, as doth I

All of that is lost, fore'er more
And that there is infinite wisdom behind this.

The remnants of my being crumble
into the dust that I came from.

I surrender to Thy will.

~ Sukaina Juma
15th October 2011