I awake in a dream of multitudes. Each stream of energy holds the potential to lead me somewhere different. At any moment, I have the ability to tune in, listen, and decide which stream to follow. In each moment, the Earth and the dimensions surrounding this field of existence are sending us equations and directions, of how to harmonize within the motions of creation and destruction that have no end. 

He is holding me in the cavern of this Dream. Warm heat radiates off his body like rays of sun and sinks into my skin. My limbs twitch as they adjust to the answers that arise in these directions, and in this warmth. 

There is a bridge between two worlds. It is in the skin, it is in the body. It is when Light crosses the threshold to meet Earth. The path is written like a grid. Each step revealed from the inside out. The way over this bridge lies in the ability to wield two worlds at once, like two bodies wrapped, radiating in warmth. 

Angels do not fall from Heaven, they descend. Like the light that settles onto a fresh morning. Like the droplets of air that make itself seen as dew on a leaf. They allow themselves to acclimate to the subtle changes in frequency before taking shape. They come down with Grace. 

Somehow, even as I swim freeflow through these formless streams of truth, I still have to come back down to my body, which is often immovable and uncomfortable. I still choose to exist within the formed layers of this physical plane. And for this truth, I keep being asked to learn how to turn vision into reality, and this is the place where I got stuck. 

Navigating this bridge between two worlds can feel like a process of being in a revolving door of resonance and dissonance—spinning around and around as the doors spit you out onto either a concrete city street or a cloud of stardust. I wonder if this revolving door of incoherence manifests in the 3D world as symptoms like depression, addiction, compulsive behavior, fatigue, body dysmorphia, and general feelings of helplessness and disillusionment. They are side effects that arise out of Light trying to take Form, and Form trying to grasp Light. And in our current world, this convergence tries to take place without adequate space or resources for acclimation, or even awareness. 

The virtue of Grace comes to the forefront of my mind recently, as I try to better understand this bridge between Light and Form, Physical and Spirit. What does it mean to live in Grace? Not for the external world, but for the internal state—for the subtle body that moves through the different planes of density—through an airport, a grocery store, a feeling, a relationship, a revelation. The subtle body that passes through levels of environment and consciousness as the effects on it remain unseen, but ripple out into physical actions and thoughts. 

Grace draws on the intelligence of the light body to plant gentle seeds of action into the physical body, to sew compassion into the emotional body, and then weaves them into one coherent form. When we don’t tend to our subtle body with Grace, we run the risk of leaving it somewhere in a different timeline. This fragmentation of self can lead to us developing the previously mentioned symptoms as we try to resolve some unseen and unprocessed dissonance. 

When we live with Grace, we live in devotion with all that can be at once. We feel the weight of our emotions and we transmute them into understanding. We hear the coarse pressure of this chaotic world and we smooth it into calm. We learn to resolve what we thought was separating us—I don’t understand you but I love you. I don’t know what will happen but I trust. 

As I try to put this into practice I notice that it is indeed a lot to hold at once. It does not feel normal to process life in real time. Or maybe it is processing multiple states at once? I am driving down the highway and 5,000 pounds of steel are speeding around me. I feel the heaviness of my surroundings shoot into my body and my chest fills with weight. I audibly cry out in pain as I try to acknowledge this sudden influx of energy. I continue down the road and my mind goes to different people and places. Tears swell and fall. Maybe it sounds so strange. And it feels strange too. My subtle body is processing things for my physical body in ways that I don’t try to control anymore. I just try to let it happen. Let yourself cry in the car and let it pass with Grace.

Perhaps Grace is a Way. When we live in Grace, we live in compassion to all forms of ourselves, and all forms of creation. We allow for the Light to crack through all corners of this plane and to merge gently with Form. We allow ourselves to be shown what we need to know, to feel what we need to feel. We allow ourselves to be wrapped in warmth and feel what it’s like for our skin to touch the bridge between two places. The revolving door of resonance and dissonance does not only stop, but it disappears into the stream of multitudes. We wake up with a choice in each moment. We wake up in a Dream.