The Washing Machine
And the thorough cleansing that comes with it . . .
The detergent that swirls around the tub pulls all the bonded and coagulated dirt from the fabric and washes it away down the drain. Glue, soil, paint, dust, oil, and any number of liquids and elements can find their way into the fabric of our being. Likewise, as garments of a higher nature and order, it is not uncommon that we allow these infestations to co-inhabit our personal eco-system. Clinging to our outer being, they ride free of charge through the doorways of our existence.
Astral in nature, or should I say – lower astral – they are attracted to the light like moths seeking the lantern. It takes a reasonably conscious being to spot the hitch-hikers and feel the free-loaders drudgery or heaviness. Life is like that. Our spiritual garments are made of light, and the light's quality has different effects upon those around us.
The associated chaos, upset and helplessness can be compared to moving through a washing machine experience – it can be truly cleansing. We can become accustomed to those unwanted bits that cling to us and not even realize they are there amidst the daily functions of our intimate lives. Our garments of light can become packed with grime and disease and cease to shine with their natural brilliance, giving us the appearance of something distorted and unfit for vibrational travel.
We are in the moment when cleansing our garments is easier or necessary, for this world experience is transforming. They ‘attune’ to the surroundings whilst offering feelings of either comfort or discomfort – depending on the experience that the consciousness requires. The garment can shift into higher or more finally calibrated vibrations. If the consciousness is capable of such refinement, it can allow us to walk in different worlds from those around us, to walk amongst worlds and peoples and experience what is on offer.
Walking amongst worlds is not a foreign idea but a natural ability for anyone who acknowledges that the light emanates from one Source.
The washing machine experience thrusts each person into an unstoppable cycle of indeterminate duration to purge the aspects that cannot make the irreversible transformation into a higher experience of light. Lurkers, cling-on’s, opportunistic cockroaches and nefarious energies, all seeking a free ride, latch on and hide themselves in the folds of materialism. Our attachments to things and people are tucked away in the seams and hems, as our lives and ideas are stitched and buttoned up perfectly.
But the garments are light and are meant to teleport with us to higher frequencies of experience. They remain unblemished and unsoiled by the dense critters that litter the materialistic pathways. Dis-ease, un-ease, please and thank you become the colorful experiences of those drawn towards the variations of the extremes. Putting on a trench coat that offers the detective a murder, the drug dealer a pocket, the politician his status, and the commander a war . . . is a form of light reflected into a prism of colors. Choose your poison!
The garment of light releases the colors and returns its many aspects to itself, and the experience is complete. Light has many vibrations and expresses itself as information! A body is information just as clothing is information; they reflect the wearer/bearer and the world around which they choose to live. What colors are the garment? Why do sages, gurus, and messiahs wear white? They are expressing their collapse of the materialistic garment and replacing it with their ideal of transcendence. No longer flamboyant and seeking renown, they wear the garment that best reflects their journey.
A dirty garment may be necessary when the experience reflects a journey through particular conditions, but a clean garment presents a being who takes care of their earthly wardrobe. What of those who are conscious? They know their energetic etheric garment needs the same care and attention as their earthly garment. They know that lurkers find the cracks and crevasses in their light body and enter unhindered. They know that their light attracts the moths, and they are vigilant. Sensitive to the light body, they can sense and feel the interlopers who cause the drag and heaviness, which brings exhaustion and chronic depression.
Going to sleep each night, they shrug off those pesky riders and clear their auric garment by withdrawing their light into the heavens. An earthly garment without a light is no place to hide! It offers nothing but hollow creases and negative flows. Those who are conscious leave to find other garments that provide more. Come the dawn, the soul returns and rises fresh and unhindered, only to attract the same dirt and repeat the same dance step.
Dancing between people can be like walking through an opium field – no matter how gingerly you tread, beautiful things can intoxicate and cause you to stumble mindlessly through life. So is it with everyday people who wash their earthly garments with myriad poisons and place more attention on these than their garments of light. Earthly garments, beaded with obscene decoration and ornate stitching, catch the attention and dazzle the observer. However, the true Observer, ever conscious, looks past the show and sees the mirage of encumbering critters taking a ride.
Those garments are confined to this reality.
The raiment of light has been through the washing machine and seen itself disappear down torrential rabbit holes. Garments washed, purged and freed of all unnecessary burdens are seen by others who wear the same attire that transcends the highways of universal thought. All the same and yet unique by design and expression, their outer vestiges no longer define who or what they are.
Editor: Dorothy Turner
Image: https://www.istockphoto.com/portfolio/Irina_Meshcheryakova?mediatype=photography
There is so much woven into this sharing that I will have to read it, receive it, absorb its gifts more than once. Thank you.
Beautiful metaphor/analogy. It reminds of a passage in vol 1. of the Masters of the Far East series, where on a very physical levels, the protagonists couldn't understand why dust wouldn't 'stick' to the masters... here is the excerpt:
"After tramping all day, listening to the most interesting historical occurrences, and hearing records read and translated on the very spot where the incidents took place thousands of years before, we returned to the village just before dark thoroughly tired. The three friends who were with us and had walked every step of the way as we had walked were not showing the least sign of fatigue or weariness. Whereas we were begrimed, dust-laden, and perspiring, they were cool and at ease, their garments were as white and fresh and spotless as when we started out in the morning. We had noted during all our journeys with these people that none of their clothing became soiled. We had remarked about this a great many times but had received no reply until this evening when, in answer to a remark made, our friend of the records said, "This may seem remarkable to you but it seems far more remarkable to us that one speck of God's created substance adheres to another of God's creations where it is not wanted and where it does not belong. With the right concept this could not happen, for no part of God's substance can be misplaced or placed where it is not wanted." Then, in an instant we realized that our clothing and bodies were as clean as theirs were. The transformation, for to us it was a transformation, had taken place instantly to all three alike while we stood there. All fatigue left us and we were as refreshed as though we had arisen from bed and had our morning bath. Here was the answer to all our questions. I believe we retired that night with the deepest feeling of peace we had experienced at any time thus far throughout our sojourn with these people; and our feeling of awe was fast giving place to the deepest love for these simple, kindly hearts that were doing so much for the benefit of mankind, or their brothers, as they call them. We began to look upon them as brothers. They took no credit upon themselves, saying it was God expressing through them, "Of myself I can do nothing. The Father that dwelleth within me, He doeth the works."
Your last paragraph is key in emphasizing the importance of being/acting as a collective where we can always remind each other the true nature of our make-up, no matter how circumstances might let us who we are.