Uniting our Seemingly Divided Parts

             How baffling that I had never heard of him, this one who was shot and is filling my feed with many in mourning, just as many pointing to his violent speech, and, thankfully, also as many saying, “love him or hate him, but no death of a young father is good.”

            Given his associations and mine, my ignorance of this person is mystifying.  He was wrapped in a movement that was not mine (religious conservatives), but tied into those of decades of my life: lively churches, which tend toward the right and college campuses, my place of belonging as a college instructor.

            Wired with a fundamental principle of the equal dignity of all beings, I am a natural progressive and for most of my life have advocated for the disenfranchised, minorities, immigrants, exploited workers, and those leaving closets to stand for their own identities.

The value of the dignity of all beings was so deeply wired into me that I thought everyone shared it.  But middle school taught me otherwise.  I was frequently mocked and bullied for reasons I could not understand by schoolmates I barely knew.  To mask that I had no one to eat with, I ate my lunch while walking through the campus and plotting methods of suicide. 

Then in 8^th grade US History, I learned for the first time about segregation, Jim Crow laws, and what led to the Civil Rights Movement.  I was horrified.  In light of their atrocities, my own bullies seemed mild.  After watching “I Have a Dream,” Martin Luther King became my hero and inspired me to stand for my own dignity and that of everyone else. 

         The following year, at age 15, I had a genuine conversion into Christianity at a church youth retreat a friend invited me to, where I was warmly welcomed and drawn to the Teacher-Savior who had over-turned the tables of the capitalists, put rich guys in their places, stood up for the disenfranchised, and called upon his followers into a character of gentleness and compassion (blessed are the humble, the gentle, the merciful, those who mourn, who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the peacemakers ~ Matt 5:3-10, summarized).  I also discovered this Teacher had inspired my own hero, Martin Luther King, and I eagerly prayed the prayer for him into my heart.

         For the next few years, I was among a few who were often invited to share my conversion story of suicidal to joyful.  Since my story seemed dull compared to the others, I thought my invitations must have come from my public speaking skills, as I never considered that most listening had not experienced a conversion like ours.

         During those early years, and especially in college, most of my Christian friends were also progressive.  It wasn’t until a decade later that I learned most American Christians are politically conservative.  Really?  The party of the rich?  I wasn’t sure what to make of that at first, but this was in the days before maga and when some were calling themselves “compassionate conservatives.”  I had my doubts, but at least their label gave hope that they were trying to hold the value system of the Teacher.

         But then in my 40s, the divide between the two parts of my life – academia and Christianity – boiled hot.  In 2019, I joined my 11^th short term Christian mission project, one similar to about half of the others, as it involved service and house-building in Mexico.  It was led by a wonderful Christian leader and attended by other warm-hearted teammates.  It was there that I let my heart break over these divided identities.  “I’m part of two groups and they both hate each other!” I cried.  I had heard the scorn from both sides: the sneering comments at church against college professors (and I was one) and the mocking comments of Christians at the college (and I was one).  All of this scorn pained me, and on that day in June, 2019, with a huddle of team-mates, I cried and cried loud and cried into their arms, and today, to them, I say, “Thank you, thank you.”  As I shared with them, I longed for my two groups to unite in brotherhood and affirm their shared foundation of uplifting human dignity.

          Little did I know then that a year later, the university administration’s treatment to me would be toxic and that I would witness the furtherance of a movement within the churches that, for me, was no longer about politics, but about what I see as the most fundamental principle of life: the full and equal dignity of all beings.  In 2021, I left the church, the university and even also began a trial marital separation.  While these were unrelated shifts, a much grander change was taking place within my soul.  That grueling, intense time was short, but did not feel at all short.  Changes this great collapsed me flat. 

         But then, they give my soul what it really needed: the chance to discover within myself the unity of my divided parts: the academic and the Christian, both intricately founded upon the dignity of all beings.  The same went for the other divided parts: the wife and mother and the mystic, two identities which are usually mutually exclusive.  The mystic is called into solitude and the wife and mother, obviously, is not.  Only after I permitted myself to let go did I come to discover that my Life Plan had included both, but each for its appointed season. 

         Back to my baffling question: how had I never heard of someone so influential to my own recent groups?  It is a mystery, but points to how much my life has changed.  Today, in refreshing peace lives the mystic, a part that had always been within, but who graciously stepped back for a season to let the maternal instinct flourish.  Though no longer physically at the university, the church or in my marriage, I cherish them all as a part of my united self.  I also know, at times alone and at times with friends, no building is needed to soak in the divine.

         We each hold seemingly divided parts within ourselves designed to unite.  This process may be painful and may take letting go.  Then comes healing, peace and unity.  And those seemingly divided parts within our country?  They also can unite.  This, too, may be painful and may take letting go.  Then it, too, will bring healing, peace, and unity.

© 2025 by Karina.  All rights reserved.  Please use only with permission and/or a link to this blog post.

Seen and Sighted

On Friday, the following whisper of mystery arrived.  I was about to meet with a friend who also receives whispers from the World Beyond.  Sometimes she blesses me with one designed just for me that is astonishingly specific and revealing.  To bless her in return, yesterday I prayed the Spirit would speak a message to me for her.  What I received, instead, was this more global message, personalized for us both, yet also for many others: 

            The veil between heaven and earth is disintegrating.  As it disintegrates, so too does the cover over everything, exposing everyone.  This terrifies many.  They are shrinking, as if they are hiding beneath a table to avoid their exposure.

            At this moment, I was given the image of a few adults, shrinking themselves to a child size of about six or seven, and like children, seeking out a table to hide beneath.

             A few, like you and your friend, are standing awed by this new cord between heaven and earth.  You, too, have been exposed.  But exposure is preferable to you than the cloud that had persisted, dimming your sight into the heavens.

             Seek after those who long for the Light, for that open gate to the heavens.  If you see fear in them for their own exposure, encourage them.  It is better to be exposed and see than to hide and stay blind. 

~ whisper, July 18, 2025

  

            Sometimes the whispers of mystery surprise me from the very start with some fresh, new idea that never would have entered my own mind.  Sometimes, they begin with something familiar, something they have previously revealed, then build on it.  That’s what they did this time with the very first line.  Everything after it was new to me.

             That “the veil between heaven and earth is disintegrating” has been very evident to many of us.  Not only are my whispers of mystery, especially since the pandemic, much more common, more profound, with lengthier discourses, and now often complemented with visions, so too are the messages from the heavens to the earth to a great many.  Many like my friend are amazed to be receiving messages, and these messages are becoming deeper in their profundity.  Yes, the veil between heaven and earth is disintegrating.

             The remainder of Friday’s message was new to me.  I had not conceived that not only is the veil between heaven and earth disintegrating, but the veil surrounding everything and everyone is also disintegrating.  We are, each of one of us, getting exposed in ways we had not previously been.  The whisper was saying that the veil between heaven and earth is simply one piece of a much greater whole.  The veil covering everything is evaporating.  That means, our own veils, our own covers -- those masks we put on to make ourselves appear other than what we really are – are also disintegrating.  No more hiding.

             That terrifies many, spoke the whisper.  But it doesn’t need to.  As my friend and I both know, letting ourselves be seen was healing, and then, after letting the parts of ourselves we wanted hidden to be exposed, we made new discoveries about ourselves that we liked, parts of ourselves that we now embrace.

             As I listened to the whisper and watched the adults shrinking themselves into child-size figures and then hiding themselves beneath a table, I noticed that no one was then paying them any attention.  Either their hiding places were working or they were seen, but no one, at least yet, cared.  Perhaps some of them were already exposed, but they thought they were still unseen.  I understood it was only a matter of time that their exposure would come and their accounting called upon.  But the whispers suggested something more: 

            If they voluntarily come out from under that table, permitting their exposure, or even exposing themselves, they’ll be blessed with a glimpse into the heavens.  Upon that glimpse, they may just begin their journey into Sight. 

            Although this whisper was new to both me and my friend, its truth resonated with us both.  Each of us had permitted our exposure prior to receiving whispers of mystery.  What struck us was the apparent cause and effect connection that our willingness to be exposed led to the onset of our whispers of mystery. 

            Nothing in this message is intended to suggest that we should just bare ourselves naked for the sake of proving our willingness to be exposed or to force a decline of the veil into the heavens.  That’s not the point.  It’s our willingness to be seen that initiates healing, new and affirming discoveries about ourselves, and, remarkably, our entrance beyond the veil into the heavens, a wonder of wonders.  Little do the terrified ones yet know that it is far, far better to be exposed and to see than to hide and stay blind. 

 

© 2025 by Karina Jacobson.  All rights reserved.  Please use only with permission and/or a link to this blog post.

The Laser Beam, Part 2

All things call for a single-minded focus,
a laser beam and a microscope,
and then all things are celebrated.

~ The Laser Beam whisper, October 3, 2024

 

            The LaserBeam message had already kept my attention for a few hours, quietly dropping hints in surprising spurts to life-long questions.  I call these the “Enigma”: Why, on a planet so abundant, fully capable of nourishing all, is there widespread poverty?  Unnecessary suffering?  And why has God allowed it?  

When I posed these questions to church leaders, they said humans were at fault and then created “in sin.”  Contradictory and unjust, is this not?  Not, they said in tones convinced and condescending, tricking me into thinking they know more than me.  My observations of the world and the teachings of the church both opposed my intuition, keeping me baffled. 

            The Laser Beam vision arrived unexpected on a day off, like droplets of rain, each followed by a pause of silence and time for reflection.  By this time at least many of my questions about God had been resolved through my own intimate connection with the divine, my whispers of mystery, my own research and finally simply trusting my own intuition.  Still, I battled over the other part of the Enigma, the widespread, unnecessary suffering, especially the propensity of many humans toward violence.   

The Laser Beam message began a reply.  Any who wish to see the full first part of this message can click  here for Part 1.  Otherwise, here is a synopsis, beginning with this whisper: 

There are objectives within the Cosmos
that can only be accomplished in the darkness.

            A pause. 

In the heavenly places of perfection, there is much that is unknown:
courage, perseverance, love in spite of pain, forgiveness, gratitude,
and the seeking and finding of beauty within a sea of ugliness.
Endurance through despair: perfection knows not that.

             Another pause. 

Only in physical places can single-minded focus be achieved.
In all other places, omniscience and connectedness exclude any capacity
to focus intently into a single direction and within a single, isolated being. 

            Then came the vision: a dark background like the night sky appeared with a man standing on a laser beam.  Then a few others formed into view, each on their own beam.  The beams were of various widths, some wide like a surf board, some narrow like a balance beam, and others everywhere in between.  One especially narrow one, like a tight rope, was the focus on the next few messages which told of the “single minded focus” of humans. 

            Along with a few more whispers came a quick flash of a parallel metaphor: a microscope.  We see tiny details, like a microscope.  From this, the whispers replied to my question about those who commit violence: 

The violence caused by the perpetrators comes as an effect of the laser beam.
When the single-minded person is distracted from the laser beam,
the single-minded person gets agitated, angry, and then becomes violent.
It is not that the person is made violent;
it is that the person is made single-minded,
and violence is the outcome. 

            What a refreshing contrast to the church teaching that humans were created “in sin”!  No, humans are like laser beams, and violence is an effect. 

            Finally, they surprised me with another whisper, the focus for this post: 

All things call for a single-minded focus,
a laser beam and a microscope,
and then all things are celebrated. 

             To celebrate all things.  Wow.  

The whispers continued: 

The purpose of a single-minded focus, an obsession,
is to celebrate the obsession.
When a being has cast a laser beam onto some creation, any creation,
then the entire Cosmos is invited to celebrate that creation. 

Remarkable.  I never learned that in church.  “The entire Cosmos is invited to celebrate that creation.”  

The whispers furthered explained, 

Only a being with a single-minded focus can do this,
and only an isolated physical being on a physical planet can have a single-minded focus.
Therefore, physical beings with single-minded obsessions
are needed for the Cosmos to celebrate all things. 

If in the Cosmos, omniscience and connectedness exclude “single-minded focus,” then surely the special celebration of any particular creation is also excluded.  Humans serve an especially grand purpose.  

While drafting this piece, I watched a video that included the mind-boggling discovery of the “observer effect” by quantum physicists from their double slit experiment.  They wished to understand the behavior of photons, but they never expected to discover what they did.  If unobserved, they ripple as waves.  In relation to the Laser Beam message, the photons behave like the Cosmos: harmonized and connected.  But when scientists set up their equipment to observe, study and measure them, they behave as particles.  In other words, they behave the way humans see and they transform into separate dots of light.  

Fifteen years ago, when I learned of this experiment, which has been repeated a great many times, always with the same outcome, I, like everyone, was astonished by it.  We, the humans, create the separation of waves into particles by our mere observation.  Now, fifteen years later, I had forgotten about that experiment, and yet, by divine synchronicity, I was led to a video that reminded me of it and the discovery of the “observer effect.”  The observer effect hints at this grand purpose of humans.  The Cosmos sees only the waves.  We humans, generally, see only the particles.  For the particles to be seen, humans are needed. 

Finally I was given a reason for human nastiness that I could embrace.  Humans are needed to observe in detail to assist the Cosmos in celebration, but this detailed focus can also lead to conflict.  In reply to my Enigma, conflict appears to have a purpose, an unintended effect of the grand purpose of humans: All things, all creatures, all plants, all creations are intended to be celebrated.   

Think of those biologists who spend their lives studying some small insect.  These biologists are wired to be fascinated with a tiny creature or the mysteries of its unique features in part to assist the Cosmos in celebrating a creature that might otherwise be ignored or unnoticed.  Scientists in fields from microbiology to astronomy and everything in between are captivated by the thrill of discovering something new: to be the first to discover a new particle or a new fish or a new dwarf planet.  This thrill, this burst of adrenaline, that we humans experience when we discover some new creation has a purpose in our grand Universe: to celebrate.  It can be about anything -- an invention, a political structure, a system of productivity, a country, a town, a religious order, a single theological concept, a relationship, a technology, or, for my dad, a mathematical formula. 

As a young girl, I watched my dad work out calculations on his yellow vertical notebook, then later on his laptop computer.  Why was he fixated on math problems?  I asked him one day and he said he was plotting formulas in his field of expertise: Data Compression.  That meant nothing to me at age twelve.  Little did I understand then that my dad’s math helped get not only him, but all of us, from that yellow vertical notebook to that laptop computer.  Others in his field have since brought us to videos on the Internet on our palm sized cell phones.  My dad’s fixation on math, along with his colleagues, birthed something amazing. 

My own “laser beam” focus had been on the portion of the human condition of suffering and conflict that I perceived to be unnecessary, especially of those so prone either to commit violence or to needlessly suffer, and often, both.  The laser beam message felt as if my head had turned toward an entirely different laser beam focus of human creation.  Humans, unlike what I had been taught, were not created “in sin.”  They were, instead, created to focus very small, some especially minute, in order for the Cosmos to honor, dignify, respect and to celebrate all things. 

Now that is something I can celebrate.

 

© by karina.  All rights reserved.  Please use only with permission and/or a link to this post.

p.s. I first learned of the double slit experiment and the observer effect from this great animated explanation: Dr Quantum Double Slit Experiment 

The Laser Beam, Part 1

Other Metaphors of Life

The Smorgasbord

Artificial Sweetener 

The Deep-end Diver and the Backstroke Swimmers 

The Bumblebee and the Hawk

The Laser Beam

There are objectives within the Cosmos
that can only be accomplished in the darkness
~ whisper, October 3, 2024, 9:11 am

            My own petty thoughts were once again interrupted.  I had the day off, had just pulled out my kindle, cozied in my recliner, and was about to read.  What did this mean?  Was it really from my whispers of mystery, those gentle, profound, and often witty voices from a mysterious and beautiful realm beyond me?

            The whisper was brief and ambiguous.  Having just settled into my recliner, I wished to cozy up, read, and drink my coffee.  I turned on my kindle, noticed the charge was low, retrieved my charger, plugged it in, and grumbled that the cord was too short to reach my recliner.  I’d have to move to a chair close to the charger.  Meanwhile, my mind kept repeating the whisper: There are objectives within the Cosmos that can only be accomplished in the darkness. I glanced at the clock.  9:11.  Did my whispers wish to confirm they really had sent the message?  I shuddered.  Was it foreboding?

As I picked up the tray with my coffee to move it to the chair, another whisper encouraged me to set it aside and return to the recliner.  We have a message for you.

This message was neither foreboding nor witty, yet stunning in its reply to some of my life-long questions.  Using the metaphor of a laser beam, my whispers shared a special role we humans play in the Universe and why it carries trauma, as our role and our problems are intricately intertwined through our laser beam consciousness. 

The Enigma

            Since the message was, in part, a reply to life-long questions of mine, I should first share this cluster of questions, which I call the Enigma: the human condition of widespread, significant, and unnecessary suffering and God’s role in in it.  Despite our abundant planet fully capable of nourishing everyone on Earth, widespread poverty and suffering, often at the cruelty of other humans, has gripped humanity throughout its history.  Why?  And why does “God” allow it?

As a toddler and preschooler, I lived across the street from a slum in São Paulo, Brazil.  A few years later, as I was just entering kindergarten, my family moved into a large three-story house in a wealthy neighborhood in San Jose, CA.  You can read about this childhood of paradox here and its influence into my battle with the Enigma.

Then, in school, I also learned history: slavery, war, and unthinkable atrocities like the Holocaust and others, then recent, in our own country that led to the Civil Rights Movement.

            In high school, I joined what I now call Churchianity because I was drawn to the sage I now call Yeshua.  His compassion, wisdom, teachings, miracles for the poor and humiliations to the powerful resonated with me.  Mine was a true conversion.  With delight, I welcomed this savior-sage into my heart and shifted from near-suicidal to vitality.  Many of my prayers were honored with miracles and added blessings I hadn't even requested.

            Wishing to learn as much as I could, I soaked in this savior-sage's teachings.  The church also taught about the divinity translated into English as “God,” who, I was told, created us humans “in sin” and inspired the Bible, which I was told was literally true.  I was also encouraged to read the Bible, which I made the mistake to do.  I read of God commanding genocide, of flooding the entire world except for one family and some animals, of condemning the first humans for appropriately wanting moral understanding, and of sending plagues and death to the Egyptian people because their king was stubborn, even though the same story told of God himself, multiple times, saying he would harden the king’s heart.  Wasn’t the king’s cruelty, then, on God?

This God also showed mercy, particularly to me and to my friends who prayed to him.  But in the Bible, I noticed mercy often shown to his favorites, but not always to their neighbors.  When his favorites got into fights with their neighbors, this God rarely taught them to get along with each other.  Sometimes, he even joined the fight and commanded his favorites to kill their neighbors. 

            Moreover, if this God created humans “in sin,” wasn’t the human cruelty and injustice I saw and learned about in history also on God?  Doesn’t the buck stop with him?  Churchianity claimed a “solution”: the torture, death, and resurrection of the one perfect person God created.  This was the very sage who had drawn me into Churchianity.  His torturous death was God’s solution?

            I was only a peon human, but I often told God I could come up with better solutions.  Why not create humans with warm hearts?  And minds that can see their way out of suffering?  And compassion to minimize the suffering of others? 

For many years, I tried to reconcile this God, but I could not.  Through a journey especially of my own intimacy with the divine, I became thankfully certain Churchianity’s God is not the true divine.  Today, I perceive the divine as a harmonious Spirit which we can access through our eternal self and our angels, whose character is more like Yeshua’s Father.  I scratch my head that neither I could trust my own insight nor Churchianity admit that Yeshua’s Father is not at all the same divinity as the literal figure translated into English in the Bible as "God."

Although I no longer blame Churchianity’s God, the Enigma of widespread, unnecessary suffering persistently nags at me.  The Laser Beam message surprised me with some answers. 

The Metaphors of Life

            The Laser Beam was the first of a series of messages in the fall of 2024 I call the Metaphors of Life.  Like a bridge from the type of messages I had previously received, it began familiar, with verbal “whispers of mystery.”  Then it added something new: a visual.  The following four messages, already posted here, were mostly visual, presented like videos.  Although the laser beam was the first, I saved it for last because it is the most involved and calls for more than a single post.

            The other four Metaphors of Life messages described what my angels whispered to be the mysterious “eternal self” within us, connected to what they call the “human self.”  These four placed their emphasis upon a description of the eternal self, while the Laser Beam emphasized the human self.  This is the self we know, the one we identify with, the one we call “myself.”  It is our physical self, attuned to the material realm and generally unaware of our eternal self. 

The Laser Beam

            I returned to my recliner and my angels repeated their attention-getting whisper and continued,

There are objectives within the Cosmos
that can only be accomplished in the darkness.
In the heavenly places of perfection, there is much that is unknown:
courage, perseverance, love in spite of pain, forgiveness, gratitude,
and the seeking and finding of beauty within a sea of ugliness. 
Endurance through despair: perfection knows not that.

            This whisper somewhat mirrored the clichés I had heard in Churchianity that an omniscient deity cannot know joy without sorrow, but it added beauty without ugliness, love in spite of pain, and qualities impossible for an omnipotent power like courage and perseverance.  Still, as the clichés had never worked for me, I was left unsatisfied.  My whispers continued,

Only in physical places can single-minded focus be achieved.
In all other places, omniscience and connectedness exclude any capacity
to focus intently into a single direction and within a single, isolated being.

I paused and was given a flash of another metaphor: a microscope.  I perceived we humans are designed with a purpose to look into minute details.  After some silence, they continued:

Those who enter the darkest of dark places are intimately involved in those objectives.
This is true of all involved: the victims, the perpetrators, and the eye-witnesses.
In the heavenly realms, they all work together on these objectives,
and they physically live them out together on Earth.

            Working together on objectives of darkness?  The victims and the perpetrators work together?  With eye-witnesses too?  Then physically live out the darkness?  Baffling.  Why?

            Neither my family’s western scientific way of thinking nor Churchianity had ever suggested that any of us, in spirit form, choose the life we enter.  By this time, however, I had read stories of people who had had near-death experiences and of those who had been hypnotized into their between life state in the spirit world.  These reports consistently reveal that we humans pre-plan the likelihood of some of the most important events in the lives we are about to live.  I hoped this to be true, but doubted it.  In my mind, no one could have chosen such horrors as the Holocaust.

The whispers continued . . .

We each have our own roles.
Some who head to the deepest, darkest places are among the brightest of the Universe,
and yet they head to the darkest places,
where they learn courage, endurance, strength, perseverance, hope,
and the ability to see light even in the darkest of dark.

            I thought of and shuddered over those imprisoned in hard labor camps.  "Among the brightest of the Universe"?  "Head to the darkest places"?  Likely not all, I thought, but some, such as Elie Wiesel, Anne Frank, and Viktor Frankl.  How could they, in spirit form, sign up for the potential of suffering so unthinkable?  I considered removing this part of the message, in case it could discourage any who have not cried out over the Enigma to do what I advocate: to stop the cruelty and show compassion.  Trusting my readers to assist victims, I kept it in.

Although these victims confound me, another group stymies me even more: the perpetrators.  What drives them?  What do they learn?

Single-minded focus.

             My angels began their reply and presented a vision of a person standing on a laser beam of bright white light.  The background was dark as if the person was floating in the night sky standing with one foot in front of another on this bright beam.  His eyes were looking ahead intently along the path of his laser beam.  He could see only to its narrow width, about as wide as a balance beam.

            Then a great many laser beams of various widths, some wide, some narrow, some in-between, all popped up before me, each with a single person standing on the beam.  Most could easily stand with both feet beside one another.  Many appeared to be surfing along the beam, some unstable.  Only a few were looking intently ahead, while most were drearily looking downward letting their beam take them wherever it wished.  Many appeared not to be following their beam, but instead floating away into a cloudy mist. 

Six months later, on Easter Sunday, I was surprised with another message about these many floating into the cloudy mist.  On this October day, however, they directed my attention to one on the narrowest beam, so narrow it was like a tight rope, with the figure upon it a murderous world leader.  My angels whispered,

Powerful perpetrators are like laser beams, destined toward a single, passionate focus,
unable to see anything beyond or around their single-minded laser focus.
They neither see, nor hear, nor think, nor feel anything apart from this single beam.
  But on this beam, they think and feel intensely.
This beam is their compass, their life, their path, and their moral code.
They comprehend nothing that is off the beam.

            Their “moral code”?  I shook my head.  My angels could not be serious. 

They continued,

Not all laser beams become perpetrators of violent crimes.
Many become great artists or specialized scientists
or obsessed with some particular thing or other.
But some, as you have observed, can also perpetrate very violent acts.

.           If single-minded focus is so necessary to learn – Really?  Why? – and if it can be learned by those who become great artists, then why are perpetrators of great violence needed?

            After a period of silence, my whispers resumed:

Without the perpetrators, courage lacks its full training.
Without the perpetrators, so do strength, endurance, perseverance, and forgiveness.
Without the perpetrators,
the ability to see light in even the darkest of places is left wanting.

            More silence.  Then –

The violence caused by the perpetrators comes as an effect of the laser beam.
When the single-minded person is distracted from the laser beam,
the single-minded person gets agitated, angry, and then becomes violent.
It is not that the person is made violent;
it is that the person is made single-minded,
and violence is the outcome.

            Violence is the outcome of the person’s obsession?  This was a new idea.  For so long, I had been brainwashed into the notion that we humans had been created “in sin.”  From this, I had unconsciously inferred that violent people were made violent.

            Here, my angels challenged that notion.  If they stood on especially narrow laser beams, they were made highly single-minded and violence was an outcome.  Hitler's obsession was Germany.  Did these not intend violence, but were obsessed with something else, even something good, and the result of their obsession was violence?

            Already, I had much to contemplate.  I wondered about other perpetrators who were not minutely focused on especially narrow beams, but these were to be described six months later.  Some violence, at least, might be an unintended effect.  My angels had still additional surprises.  Their whispers continued, beginning with this one:

All things call for a single-minded focus,
a laser beam and a microscope,
and then all things are celebrated.

            “Then all things are celebrated.”  This, too, was a fresh idea.  My angels had more to say.  To be continued . . .                                                                   

© 2025 by Karina Jacobson.  All rights reserved.  Use only with permission and/or a link to this blog post.

Other Metaphors of Life

The Smorgasbord

Artificial Sweetener

The Deep-end Diver and the Backstroke Swimmers

The Bumblebee and the Hawk

The Bumblebee and the Hawk

             The bumblebee and the hawk is the fourth in a succession of these in October and November.  Each came about a week apart in the same manner as my whispers: as flashes that interrupt my own mundane thoughts, those petty thoughts of my “human self.”  Prior to those five last fall, I heard “whispers,” but rarely saw visions.  Since then, I have not seen a single one.  My own imagination is too dull to conjure these; they come from a source of mystery much more wise and clever than I am. 

            Each of these seemed to me to be what I call a “metaphor of life” and they expressed messages to clarify the sense I’ve perceived, mostly in thanks to my whispers, of the parts of our human creation shown to me as the “human self” and the “eternal self” in Adam’s creation in Genesis 2:7.  The “human self” is the part formed by the dust of the earth and the “eternal self” is the one formed by the divine breath.  Unlike the convoluted logic of Augustine, still tragically taught by some churches, we are not made “in sin.”  The scriptures consistently present us in duality: the dust part – our “human self” and the breath part – our “eternal self.” 

Each vision expressed a different metaphor with its own facet of these selves within us.  I posted the first, the Smorgasbord, in November; then came Artificial Sweetener, posted in January, and then the Deep-end Diver and the Backstroke Swimmers, posted in February.   Now for the Bumblebee and the Hawk:

             This vision began with a bumblebee buzzing and flying about in a garden.  I watched it land on a yellow flower, suck it, and pollinate it.  Then it buzzed to another flower, repeating its movements.

             The bumblebee is like a healthy human self.

             My whispers of mystery had just interjected.  Here was a healthy bumblebee doing its job, serving its purpose.  My whispers had likened it to the human self, demonstrating, in contrast to traditions that have looked critically upon what they call the “lower self” or the “ego.”  If this bumblebee is healthy and serving its purpose, then certainly what has been shown to me as the “human self” is not at all to be despised.  It is natural, serves a purpose, and when healthy, contributes to its community, even perhaps to the world. 

            I watched the bumblebee continue to move about quickly, every which way.  I, his observer, did not know where he was going or where he would land next, though I presumed to another flower.  Wherever it was to be, he had a destination, he had a purpose, and he was fulfilling it. 

            Next, I saw a housefly, buzzing about loudly, jerking in its movements; smashing into a window; randomly buzzing up, down, diagonal; again smashing into the window. 

            This housefly is like the subconscious part of the human self.

             My whispers had returned.  I hadn’t anticipated this mystery.  Shifting to the fly from the bee, I had expected the fly to represent an “unhealthy” human self.  But, as I’ve said, my whispers are smarter than me, and they like to surprise me with riddles. 

            Its movements adhere to rules you don’t understand.  He seems to you to be unpredictable, random, uncontrolled.

             Certainly.  Ever try to swat a housefly?

             His eyes are mysteriously constructed, but they follow a structure.  So does the subconscious part of the human self, though, it too can often take you into directions that baffle you. 

            I thought of what Paul said in Romans 7 that the flesh within him does what he doesn’t want to do and doesn’t do what he does want to do. 

            The deep-end diver, however, learns to control the housefly.

             My whispers then replayed the part of my previous vision showing the deep-end diver diving toward the bottom of the swimming pool.  My whispers were getting more sophisticated; they were bringing in the previous vision.  In that one, I had reflected that the water symbolized emotion and cleansing, that diving into our emotions is terrifying, but also cleansing.  Now my whispers seemed to suggest the water also represents our subconscious self and that diving into it helps us to control what otherwise appears to us to be uncontrollable.

             Next I was shown a hawk soaring high through the sky, beautiful, glorious, with wings outstretched, showing no movement of his own at all.  He was perfectly gliding, letting the breeze carry him.

             The hawk is like the eternal self. 

            This time, my whispers spoke what I had anticipated.  Sometimes, I can be smart, or maybe just when it’s really obvious.  

I sensed that the hawk’s glide represented the energy the eternal self can manifest when it is set free to do so.  Like the hawk, the eternal self can rely upon strength of its wings and the breeze of the air to carry it to its destination. 

The bumblebee can become the hawk. 

Huh, another riddle.  My whispers opened the vision to a great many flying creatures, starting with insects like butterflies, dragonflies, and praying mantises.  Then I was shown many birds of all types, shapes, sizes and colors, beginning with tiny mockingbirds rapidly fluttering their little wings to robins, blue jays, toucans, and birds of such variety I know not their names. 

            Many permutations through many insects and many birds will take place along the way.  Keep your eyes on the hawk and the permutations will come. 

            This time, I thought of the words of Lao Tzu, who said “great acts are made up of small deeds” (Tao Te Ching, stanza 63).  He’s also the one who made famous, in the following stanza, “the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step” (or, in many translations, “beneath your feet”).  The bumblebee doesn’t just magically become the hawk; many steps are taken along the way. 

            Remember the vision of the Smorgasbord.  If you enter the spaces between the delights, you will learn to glide like the hawk. 

            Now they brought in the first vision they had given to me a month earlier.  I sat stunned by their brilliance to connect these visions.  In that vision, they showed a great buffet table of delights, not only of delicious foods, but also of tempting material possessions, toys and cars, and so forth.  After showing the smorgasbord of delights, they had whispered that they greatest treasures were in the spaces between the delights. 

            My whispers then returned the vision to the hawk.  As I sat in awe and envy of him, gliding so high, so effortlessly, my whispers relayed their closing message: 

To sail the winds like the hawk, the human self must slow down and let go.  Let the winds carry you.  Trust the winds.  While learning, the human self will doubt, and if those doubts stay too strong or for too long, you will descend.  The wind carries only the hawk who trusts.  The eternal self in training will glide for a bit, then descend, then buzz like the bumblebee once again.  As long you don’t give up, but persevere, committed to glide like the hawk, the eternal self will emerge and the hawk will glide, even soar to great distances using very little energy.

 Other Metaphors of Life

The Smorgasbord

Artificial Sweetener

The Deep-end Diver and the Backstroke Swimmers

The Laser Beam

© 2025 by Karina.  All rights reserved.  Please use only with permission and/or a link to this blog post.

The Deep-end Diver and the Backstroke Swimmers

             Last fall, a succession of visions about a week apart unexpectedly appeared.  I perceived them as metaphors of life and they arrived as my whispers of mystery do: as flashes that interrupt my own mundane thoughts, those petty thoughts of my “human self.”  Since messages to me have been auditory, these visual images playing like a video were a new surprise.  

Each one presented a different metaphor from a different facet fitting into my reflections of the “human self” and the “eternal self.”  I posted the first, the Smorgasbord, in November, where I also introduced these distinct parts within ourselves.  Quite unlike Augustine’s convoluted logic, still mysteriously taught by some churches, we are not made “in sin.”  The creation of Adam is shown clearly in Genesis 2:7 in two parts: from the dust of the earth (the human self) and from the divine breath (the eternal self).  Both are natural and neither part should be despised.  They are often in conflict, however, and since the human part is physical, tangible, it is the part we identify with, leaving the eternal part elusive. 

            This vision began with a single female diving into the deep-end of an outdoor pool and swimming underwater.  The pool was shaped like an upside-down capital “L,” with the deep end off to the upper right of the swim lanes.  I watched the diver swim downward toward the bottom of the pool like a graceful dolphin, down, then forward, then down, then sometimes up, then forward, then down again.  It seemed she was attempting to touch the bottom of the pool.  I held my breath for her, and I worried for her, mentally encouraging her to rise up for a breath. 

            You want to see swimmers breathe? 

            My whispers had finally spoken during my otherwise silent vision.  They shifted the vision to the main part of the pool, to the swim lanes.  There, I saw the lanes filled with swimmers, appearing as adults as if at a swim team warm-up, all swimming backstroke, about four or five per lane about two swimmer lengths apart from one another.  Then I heard another voice in the background, muffled and quite distinct from my whispers’ voices or from my own mental chatter, apparently the swimmers’ coach.  He instructed them to flip over to swim freestyle.  

But the swimmers kept swimming backstroke.  None had flipped over.  I waited for the coach to repeat his instruction, but the vision remained silent.  The swimmers remained on their backs, swimming at the same pace, in the same rhythm, with the same movements, with neither a twitch nor a startle.  Had they heard their coach? 

            I watched the swimmers mechanically lift their arms for their strokes and kick their feet to rudder themselves forward.  None was fast, but none slow, and they swam sufficiently straight, a feat which takes some level of skill for backstroke, though their form lacked the power of the pros.  The vision continued in silence, with the backstroke swimmers mechanical and the coach apparently now absent. 

            I wondered over these swimmers ignoring their coach.  I had not seen him, only heard his voice, somewhat muffled in the background, only once.  Had he tried to instruct them before I arrived at the vision, and he had thrown up his arms and left?  Given up on them?  Or had he instructed them only once to flip to freestyle?  Had they heard him?  Why had they not flipped over? 

            After an extended silence, my whispers finally spoke again. 

            They would have to put their head under water. 

            “Yes, soooo?”  I asked, puzzled. 

            They are afraid to immerse their heads into the water. 

            Thinking too logically, I asked, “Then why do they look like they’re  on a swim team?!” 

My whispers didn’t reply.  Instead, they returned the vision to the deep-end diver.  While the backstroke swimmers appeared to still be mastering the skill of swimming, even of their obvious preference for backstroke, this swimmer was graceful, elegant and quick, moving through the water like a mermaid.  Continuing downward, her destination to the bottom of the pool was unchanged, and by this time, she had almost reached it, almost able touch it, but not quite.  

My whispers entered once more. 

She’s seeking her eternal self. 

The deeper she swam, the greater the pressure of the water resisted her movements.  Swimming is easier at the surface than it is further down.  Just as the air is thin at a high altitude, water is denser at a deeper level.  I watched her struggle against the density. 

Once again, I held my breath for her and encouraged her to rise to the top to catch a breath.  She must have heard me, as just then I watched her lift herself upright, take a grand scissor kick, then shoot her two arms up and quickly pull them down to her waist, rocketing herself up, and rising to the surface in quick frog-like movements.  She reached the surface, pulled her head out of the water, took a deep breath, then slowly swam breast stroke to the edge of the pool.  I felt within her both triumph and agony.  She had swum deep and far, but had not reached bottom.  Might she touch bottom the next time? 

Unlike the Smorgasbord vision, which my whispers narrated along the way, this vision was largely silent.  Messages from the world beyond have come to me auditory, hence my blog title: “whispers of mystery.”  The silence of this vision felt powerful to because it was so different, and the vision left me with many questions. 

If the deep end swimmer was seeking her eternal self, were the backstroke swimmers ignoring theirs?  Did their coach represent this eternal self?  Had they heard him and ignored him?  Or, were they so mechanically established they couldn’t hear him? 

To these questions, my whispers did not reply.  As often, they tossed out a riddle.  They said the deep-end diver was seeking her eternal self, and they presented a diver who was not flying up into the sky, but down into the water. Curious.  

The ones who were looking up to the sky, where we might expect to seek an eternal self, were the backstroke swimmers.   They could also breathe and were not struggling.  But, they were mechanical, not graceful.  Grace doesn’t come easily; it comes after much struggle. 

Water, according to many spiritual traditions, represents emotion.  I felt that the deep waters of the deep-end swimmer represented the waters of our heart.  I reflected that our human self is made up both of our conscious, mental self -- like that chatterbox in my head who complains too much, but also tries to be nice – and also of our inner child, the vulnerable one in our subconscious who feels emotion, gets afraid, and guards its traumas.  

Could the vision suggest the swimmers’ fear to dunk their heads in the water was fear of facing their traumas?  This may be why water also represents cleansing.  We may need to cleanse from trauma, but fear doing so.  To dive into the water of our inner child to face these emotions, fears, and especially the traumas, is frightening, as it exposes the trauma to our conscious self.  This calls for much endurance, patience, strength, and courage.  

How much more we would like to reach the stars than to dive into our traumas.  And how much more do we like to mechanically breathe than struggle in dense waters.  So we ignore the call or let ourselves not hear it, as the swimmers heard not their coach.  Was the coach, then, to the backstroke swimmers like my whispers are to me? 

Once we do begin to listen and to glimpse this elusive eternal self, we long for nothing more than to meet it, to touch it like the deep-end diver was attempting to do.  We find in this eternal self one quite unlike the moralist of Freud’s superego or the mixture of positive and negative of the Jungian Collective Unconscious.  No, this eternal self, this part shown by the divine breath in Adam’s creation, is gentle and wise, sometimes teasing, but loving.   

While many spiritual traditions affirm a High Self akin to what I call the eternal self, few western psychologists do.  Could it be the western psychologists are like the backstroke swimmers?  They can’t hear their inner “coach,” their own eternal self?  

I suspect many of them do, but don’t say.  Carl Jung practically did in an interview, but he didn’t publish it as he may have been scorned by his colleagues.  Still, once we glimpse this eternal self, there is no denying this self, more real to us than anything else, and there is no going back.

 

Other Metaphors of Life Visions

The Smorgasbord

Artificial Sweetener

The Bumblebee and the Hawk

The Laser Beam

 

© 2025 by karina.  All rights reserved.  Use only with permission and/or a link to this blog post.