To be a lighthouse

The world is in the middle of a shift. Everything that was hidden is coming to light. And I stand here - not on the barricades, not in the explaining.

Because I noticed something that changed everything.

When I tried to explain what I knew – when I wanted others to understand, see, awaken – the power left my body. Energy went out from me. Toward others. As if I believed my explanation could make others understand.

The only thing it did was drain me.

And every time I entered into explaining, I felt how the field left me. It went toward others instead of staying with me. And then it couldn't carry me anymore.

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So I tried something else.

I stopped explaining. I stopped telling what I know about the dark. Not because I don't know. Not because I want to hide. But because it's not my task.

My task is to stand still - like a lighthouse.

And this – this I love. The lighthouse doesn't explain how the ship lost its course or where it's been. The lighthouse just shines - and in that light the ship can find its way home.

When I stand still – when I hold the light within me instead of explaining outward – something happens in my body that makes me smile. Delicious shivers through my spine. My heart expands. The field gathers – not a little, not carefully – but like when everything that was scattered finds its way home.

And that's WHERE the carrying power is.

---

It's not my task to expose what's been. It's not my task to lead people through understanding. It's not even my task to say what's coming.

My task is to stand still while everything else moves.

Now that the shift is here – when everything that was hidden comes to light – there are moments when it's tempting to explain. To say what I know. To show others what I've seen.

But the lighthouse doesn't explain the storm. The lighthouse just shines. So I remain. In the tower. In the forest. In the field that carries.

And whatever comes to light out there – the light is here.