top of page
  • thegentletraveler

A Farmer’s Life

December 18, 2018


Inspired by Future Progression meditation with Mee Vaj in Huntington Beach, CA


I look at you that hazy morning and I know in an instant. You are so different than me. A different species this time around indeed-- dark and brooding and intense. But I recognize you. Me with my long blonde hair, thin frame and simple features. In fact, everything about me is simple. Th way I brush my hair. The way I dress in yellow pants and grey tennies and a light pea green poncho. I hold Trixie, my little white dog, close to my heart because I know it gives her comfort. You have your big slobbery brown hound, red-brown as the earth below us. He sits next to you in the truck. The truck is fire engine red and you use it to inspect the fields, to see how the rows are growing and if any bugs or birds have been at them again.


Ours is a simple life. Standing by the truck I tell you about Mamu and how she is doing, which is not good. I say that I would like to go over there and visit. It is on the other side of the fields. It is good ten minute walk but I would rather take the truck because Trixie doesn’t like walking the fields that far (and frankly neither do I). You furrow your brow, you have so many things to do. But like always you nod your head.


The twin moons hang heavy in the sky. It is winter on the plains. This part of the planet consists of farmers and their fields, for hundreds of miles. We supply food for many, not just on earth but “up there” as well. We also feed the people fighting and living on other planets that we will never see with our humanoid eyes.


On the way to Mamu’s, we see our son, working the fields reluctantly. He is being sloppy with his plowing. And he knows it.


He is more of an artist than a farmer and this kills you. Your species of humanoid doesn’t understand working with the hands in a creative way like that. You have a big heart but it comes through in intensity, when you hold me late at night and I feel your huge heart pounding or when you used to hold Jacob our son by the firelight or when you give your dog a rub.


You get out of the car and start wailing on Jacob. He tries to fight back but he never wins. I get out of the car too. I don’t say much ever yet I have a presence that is formidable. I have mastered the power of silence, of holding an energy and intending it with such intensity that it flies like an arrow to its target. I say STOP and you both do.


You boys are unruly. Our lives have made you hardy, have made you strong.

Neither of you flinch when the winds come, even though they come on stronger every year. Then again, I don’t flinch either anymore. In fact, now I embrace them. Standing in the winds, I feel like I am flying, like I could lift up at any moment and be free from the heavy bonds of physical life, the push-pull of love for you and my soul's desire for sailing.


We bounce along the gutter to the right side of the rows of wheat and corn, or something similar. We grow a high-protein, high-mineral plant not known before the change, before the twin moons came to us and changed the climate, the geographic patterns. Everything changed then really. It is a simple vegetable we grow but it is all a body needs to sustain itself anywhere on the planet and on others as well. It helps bring oxygen into the lungs even if there is very little in the atmosphere.


Ours is a simple life. And I am a simple woman. I have a son and a husband. I have big eyes. We all have big eyes. We have evolved through coupling with other species who came out of hiding and down from above ten generations ago. We all have the sight in some way or another now. It is nothing special. Yet we all see something slightly different. I, for example, see violet hues, the hues of that which lies beyond 4D into 5 and D, and and into the energy makeup of physical matter on the surface of the planet as well. You see red hues, that which lies within the earth. You can feel the magma of the earth moving. You tell us sometimes when an earth change is coming, which can be very, very handy.


The difference that I sense in this life is the feeling of being intricately part of a unit, a pod of individuals . A package of souls. I am especially connected to you, my love, the one I have known and been in relation with since the turn of the last century. And of course, my son, Jacob, a wayward spirit like me, ready always to take flight. I believe he has the sight of the violet hue as well. If he could don wings and fly away, he would.


And then there is Mamu, who doesn’t have much more time on this earth. And the others in the small community. We work the land. We cook, we clean, we plow together. There is regularity and consistency to our lives. We probably wont see much of the other worlds where everyone else comes and goes with the regularity of a subway trip in the city. The land needs us. We cannot be spared.


Yet I am also a medical person of sorts, as well. In this life, in this time, on this new planet, healing the body works a little differently. And I am a master at it. Mamu is waiting for me. Her eyes are huge. Some people call it a mutation. She has always had the sight to the extent that she sees nothing of what we see here on New Earth. She sees beyond only. She has always seen beyond. Yet she has the perpetual furrowed brow and bushy eyebrows and strong physique that you, her son, has. Her time has come to move on and she knows it.


As we walk into her small, dark hut, she looks at me with such intensity in those eyes that morph from purple to blue to brown to pitch black. Then she smiles as I place my hand on her heart, another hand on her midsection. That is all that is needed right now. Just a little comfort to ease her fears. Evetually she sleeps.


When we leave Mamu’s, we all pile in the truck again and head back home to have lunch. On our way back through the fields, our lives change again in a profound way. We have all been through so much. This is nothing new really, in the listing of major changes that have occurred in the last 100 years or so. It is to be expected. Still you never really get used to a meteor shower. They come unexpectently. This one came in all of the sudden, even you did not sense it prior.


And when they come in all at once, pummeling the earth like they are doing now with the force of a thousand herd of cattle, they can be especially dangerous. One hits the front of the truck. You grumble, Dammit! That will have to be fixed.


The priority now, however, is safety. Make sure the dogs and Jacob are safe. We will not make it to the house now, as they are coming down like giant feiry raindrops. The fields will be ruined. We will have a meeting later with whoever is left in the community to see what we will do next. We may have to move on. Or we may be able to salvage what they did not destroy, especially if we are spared the earthquakes which often follow these storms.


The Earth is going through the throws of forming a new version of herself. And we just happen to be living these lives or her surface at this precarious time. That is all.


We get out of the truck and huddle in the open field. We will only be exposed for a moment. You and Jacob raise the energetic field that will protect us from all but the largest particles coming down from who knows where. It could have been a rogue piece of asteroid but more than likely they are fragments from war. The war now exists in our airspace, high above where we farm every day, but not outside of sight of our dreams and our fears.


We huddle and wait it out. And even though we know that it is safe, you boys still get scared whenever this happens. You both bore in to me seeking comfort. You clutch my hand. Jacob huddles near my breast like he did when he was just a baby. You cover you eyes with my shirt. I comfort you both by radiating a particular energy. Of course, I am here for you. You are the loves of my life.


I don’t bury my face, however. I am not afraid. I look at these spiraling pieces of white fire and dust head on through the shield of the energy bubble that surrounds us, almost daring one to come for me. It is in these times that my true gifts shine through. The bubble of protection that surrounds us is not just technology. It is my love for you, like the love of a lioness--fierce and unstoppable yet at the same time, gentle, consistent and true.



15 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page