Good morning, I am
Sananda, and I welcome you to my world. This is a world
of plenty and beauty. It is a world where you have been
many times, and yet you have left this world and gone
back to the place on which you reside at this moment.
I have been to the
place where you live, and I have been able to come to
this place and stay. This is the place where you can
come back to and stay, if you choose. You have a whole
lifetime of memories of this place, for it is the diving
off place from which you return to the position you
populate to learn the lessons and experience the
energies that you create while on the planet Earth.
This is a place where
the meek live, as well as the strong, for there is
really no difference. The meek are not weak, but full of
wisdom of the simplicity of things. It is said that the
meek shall inherit the earth. This is the truth of it,
for when one realizes that the simplicity is the way to
Heaven one is walking in the recollection of God.
I give to you the
promise of the almighty in the promise of eternal peace.
This is the secret that is not a secret in the halls of
the place in which I reside. When I say I reside here, I
use the term figuratively, for there is a difference in
the perception of residence here. Allow the thought to
sit in your beingness for a while, and see where it
takes you in your memories of the Holiness of this
place. Then take that with you into the day you are
starting on earth. See how that changes things.
I am going to tell you
a story now, of a person who left this place and vowed
to return only when his task was complete on earth. This
man took himself to the darkest part of the land and
took up residence in a small hut on the fringe of the
village that lay smack in the middle of that land.
Each morning when the
sun came up the man rose and greeted the warmth of the
Light. He found the villagers to be lazy and lay in bed
for most of the morning, and then they dragged
themselves out to the day and wallowed around in their
misery till the darkness overcame the Light. Then the
villagers seemed to come to life. They gathered at the
local winery and drank till the wee hours of the morn.
Their frivolity carried on to the other villages where
the same activity took place.
One day the man took
himself to the winery in the evening. He stepped up to
the table and sipped from the glass that was offered.
The people were all happy and boisterous, and the place
was alive with laughter. The man soon drained his glass,
and asked for another. Soon that glass was empty as
well. At the end of the evening, while the villagers
where all going strong the man felt weak and forlorn. He
had partaken of more than he could handle, and hurried
to the door feeling ill. When the fresh air hit him he
fell forward and lay upon the ground in his own misery.
After several hours,
the villagers left the winery, and stumbled upon the man
as he lay inert in their path. “What is he doing in
our place of festivity, I thought he had gone to his bed
long ago?” The villagers helped him up and carried him
home to his door. There they left him and wished him
well. He stumbled into his hut and cleaned himself up
before falling into his bed.
The sun rose to greet
him, but he slept still and long. When the sun stood
high in the sky, and the villagers came to see him, they
found he was just rising, and holding his sick head in
his hands. I know not what came over me, he mumbled. How
do you do this every day, and still walk around with a
smile on your face?
One of the villagers
did not know that he had a smile, and asked why.
The man said, “I see
you every day after you rise late and you are of happy
face. Why do I bear such a burden after taking the route
you take in your life?”
My dear man, we have
been doing this for as long as we can remember, and
longer. You have just only one night’s memory of this.
Can you see how the difference brings on the smile?
I can only see that I
am miserable doing the same thing you all do. That makes
me the outcast, instead of you. How can I go back to the
place I came from, and hold my head high as I explain to
them why I failed?”
If you feel you failed
then perhaps you didn’t spend enough time in this
place,” said the villager. “Perhaps you would find
that spending more time with us and telling us of your
times in that other place would give you the solace that
The man thought a bit,
then announced, “I shall come into the village and
share what I know. When is a good time for you?”
“I’d say the good
time would depend on your pleasure,” replied the
villager. There is no difference for us.
The man thought a bit
then exclaimed, “I know that best time for me is when
the sun rises on another new day! Can you all give me a
morning to the pleasures of the other place where I came
The villagers all
agreed, and when the next morning came around they were
all there, bright-eyed and ready. The man asked how they
managed to be there bright and fresh after all the
frivolity of the night.
We decided to wait
till after the lesson, then we will celebrate the coming
of the high sun in the day, retiring in the eve of the
darkness to be fresh for the next lesson. You have come
with a new song, and a new story, and we have longed in
our hearts for the change.
The man took the chair
near the door, and the others sat round on the grass.
The sun warmed their backs and the birds cheered their
lessons as the morning wore on to the high sun. Then the
villagers jumped to their feet and ran laughing to the
winery. There they lifted their glasses high, and
pronounced the man their savior, for he had brought the
change they had longed for. They laughed into the early
eve, and when the darkness came upon them, they scurried
to their beds and slept long and hard through the night
and the wee hours. Then just before dawn they rose and
hurried to the man’s hut just on the fringe of the
Alas, the man was
gone. He was nowhere to be found. Someone whispered, “He
must have gone back from whence he came. He spoke of
that place with such reverence. What do we do now that
he has brought us the change and now he is gone?”
The man waited in the
shadows of the tree by the side of the hut. He heard
their words and their sorrow. How can I not go there and
give them the next lesson? I have so much to share with
The angel beside him
whispered, “You have given them so much in your
coming, now give them more in your departure. There is a
part of you that will never leave, for you have given
them the way to the change.”
Even as the angel was
speaking the last words, and they were returning to the
place from which they had come, the man turned and saw
that the villagers stayed at the door of the hut, and
one of them sat in his chair. A circle formed around
him, and they all listened and joined in the sharing
that took place that morn, till the sun was high in the
As the man saw the
last glimpse of the village, he heard the whisper of
words in his heart, “This is the change we’ve been
praying for, shall we go on and find the memories that
lay in our hearts and our souls?”
The man arrived at the
place where he came back to and whispered to the angel,
“There is no failure, is there? God can do no wrong in
our eyes, and we can do no wrong in His.” The angel
smiled, and they walked to the garden together.
I am Sananda, and I
wish you a day of changes, and a day of whispers of