There are days that behave like doors.
Thin to no separating “places.”
You walk through the morning, and something under the chaotic noise of the world hums differently.
The 11/11 portal is like that—
a slit in the fabric of the ordinary,
a ripple in the bright silence,
where color begins to make a sound.
It isn’t a place you arrive at.
It’s a way the air begins to inform you about what you really are.
AWAKENED VISION
Awakened vision doesn’t belong to the eyes.
It lives somewhere behind them—
in that space where breath turns into intimacy.
When it stirs, everything visible grows porous.
Edges blur, and through the blur you glimpse the field of pure potential—
the lattice shimmering beneath form.
You realize you’ve never been creating alone.
Every motion, every idea, every heartbreak has been a conversation between the seen and the unseen, a part of the grand symphony of existence.
You remember: you are being dreamt and you are the dreaming.
11/11 is a mirror to your dreaming, and the mirror doesn’t decode.
It reflects the distortions and the frequencies you are guarding of your true divine light.
It has no heart to lie.
When you stop trying to trick it or outsmart it,
it shows you how everything you’ve been reaching for has been reaching for you all along. It’s not a funhouse mirror that has lost its appeal.
And perhaps this is more than poetry or clever word play.
The supposition is that all this geometry, all this tone, this rhythm—
might be leading us somewhere specific.
The awareness itself could be activating what has long been dormant in us: our frozen pineal gland.
Every mammal has one—some call it the root of instinct or migration.
Philosophers like Descartes, artists like Alex Grey, have called it the antenna of the soul—
the receiver of the universe’s signal, whispering who and what we really are.
For ages, we have ignored it or forgotten it.
The Toltecs’ measure of 5,200 years, or the Fifth Sun, marks this era.
The Fifth Sun is the dream of separation—movement without rest, creation from survival.
It has been a long attempt to bring this ancient intelligence back online,
to remember coherence through codes, keys, and geometric riddles gifted across civilizations.
The portal of 11/11 is one of those activations—a code barrier awakening remembrance.
The Fifth Sun is waning, and within months we will stand fully in the Sixth—
a new frequency, a new dream coming online.
The Sixth Sun is the dream of coherence—creation from remembrance,
awakened vision alive in the body.
We will drop the search and allow for the emergence of this embodied, empowering, precious knowledge once again.
THE FIELD OF THE LIVING AND THE LIVED
Sometimes, awakened vision shows you what’s dead.
Not as ghosts, but as constellations—
patterns of continuity pulsing through the air. Moving at the speed of light from unimaginable distances. So far in the past that the event horizon has long since imploded, and no longer real, only in its encoded light remains.
You feel them in the widening of space between two breaths.
You see them in the way the light hesitates on someone’s face,
as if remembering another face it once loved.
Each of us carries a small procession behind us—
hands that built, voices that broke,
all walking still, only slightly out of phase.
It isn’t spooky; it’s tender.
The field is always full, and what we call solitude is just the mind forgetting its company.
THE ART OF RETURNING
Before looking at another,
I turn backward—
toward my own belonging. The future is behind me, coming in like a wave to be surfed.
If I forget it, I lean too hard forward, and everything I touch, the distant shore feels like survival.
But when I remember—
when I feel the weight of all that stands behind me—
something in me relaxes its grip on the world.
Creation begins from rest, a guiding principle whispered by those who came before us.
They whisper, those who came before:
We have known suffering. We are with you, walking this path of awakening together.
Their words land like rain on dry skin.
Walk on, they say.
The dawn is near.
THE BODY IS THE GATE
The body knows the language of portals.
Bare feet on the earth, breath unhurried.
This is how the door appears.
When the pulse races and the mind blanks,
when the world burns too brightly to bear,
I ask, “Am I standing alone?”
The question itself is a key.
Hands I cannot see rest on my shoulders.
My heart slows.
Thought returns like the tide.
Before I see you clearly,
I must come home to the one who is seeing.
THE NEW DREAM
11/11 isn’t a date; it’s a symmetry.
Two selves mirroring each other—
the one who dreams and the one being dreamt. It’s quantum entanglement.
The old dream is built from memory.
Stitched together by fear and reference.
The new dream rises from pure potential—
It manifests through divine will, stepping through the portal and remaining.
When awakened vision opens,
You stop trying to create,
and begin allowing creation to move through you.
The dream that is dreaming all
starts dreaming through you as you.
This is how the lattice breathes.
This is how the portal opens—
by remembering you were never outside it.
Step through.
Let the old dream fade like smoke in morning air.
Let the new dream write itself through your hands.
It has been waiting
since before there was a you
to imagine it.
You made it this far. Here’s a special gift for doing so. Click here to sign up for a complimentary session to help you stand fully in your new dream. Limited offer. Use PORTAL in the coupon slot to remove the fee.
BE
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