I was away when I got it. Thankfully I was in a safe place, with someone I love, who loves me and accepts me. My husband flew to where I was and drove me home.
You know what I mean, right? I got the ‘rona.
As an intuitive, highly sensitive yogi, I do not do well with losing access to my faculties. It scared me. It felt as though something very dark was taking over my nervous system. I got a high fever, I couldn’t stand, and I couldn’t stop rocking, because my muscles felt they were being squeezed and crushed. We don’t really know what this is, or if it was created with evil intentions in a lab. I sensed that and I was freaked. But it wasn’t just the illness that freaked me out. It was the access I had to a collective consciousness that hadn’t been available to me prior to illness.
There’s been a bifurcation, a split. We are not one collective consciousness anymore, I don’t think. The divide we have survived has been too great. I don’t see things or hear things that other people in my life hear. I fiercely stand guard the door of my mind. I mean this literally and figuratively. I don’t have access to the collective consciousness from which I split, and don’t want it. It’s pretty Amish in our home in terms of hype. I don’t hear radio commercials, I sing. I read, and not what’s on The NY Times Bestseller list because I think The NY Times is a toxic sludge of mind control and propaganda. If the TV is on it is usually sports, and not national or known teams. I was always off in the fringes as a musician anyway, and my husband has adventurous hobbies that expose him to subcultures. Around here, someone is always just working on something. A motorcycle, a song, a meal found on YouTube, a paper for class. And so it is the same as it has always been in our family, but more obvious now-for two years. But suddenly, I sensed that in illness that I had access to the main narrative. I was on the “inside” of the fear-based, mainstream, collective consciousness from which I had split.
That’s what I really got. The FEAR.
I haven’t been in the Covid club, like ever. My friendships started waning in April of 2020 when I’d send someone a text like “But isn’t this all sounding a little nuts?” I had been obedient enough for initial acceptance in the local Covid club, but then I just couldn’t buy it anymore. I’d test the waters via text and refer to trusting in the course of God given immunity. I still remember the two most common responses: “but this is NEW, and SCARY” & “look at ITALY”. These were loyal NPR listeners, like I had been. Eventually I’d slide away to the melancholy awareness that I was not going to have much company in my God given immunity, suspicion of Big Pharma, and sovereign, sane dissent of unelected public personalities acting like doctors.
I am among a minuscule percentage in my town, of those who know this was a complete sham to get Weekend at Bernie’s into office, among other accomplishments. And please, to all my devout-Covid-narrative-following-mean-emailers, I know that it is a sham that is ALSO VERY REAL. I know that, yes, it has tragically killed people, which is awful. I just caught it, and it scared the living crap out of me. But it is STILL a sham. It was manufactured, used, enriched evil elites and destroyed innocents. It can be a sham, and a threat that has tragically taken lives, all at once. And a hint: that is a way out of the mental hold it all can have on you. Because the WHO and the WEF aren’t your saviors. Fauci does NOT give a shit about you. He cares about the royalties he secured for himself. That’s it. Just ask the watchdog Open the Books. (🔥 #2)
Back to the illness.
It grabbed hold of my mind, body and spirit and became my psychic backstage pass to a collective. It was my chance to be a fly on the wall of what’s been going on without me for two years.
In my restless sleep I found myself scanning the group I had been with in a fearful, threatened mindset. Who was it? Who got us all sick? I became acutely aware that millions of people do this now, all the time, the ol’ us and them, and I felt I had psychic access to it. They view a group event like the one I had attended as a big, scary, unknown entity to fear. This fear of the unknown entity was so acute that it caused them to shrug off a shot under their skin, into their system. Shrug off unproven ingredients, shrug off risk of health issues, shrug off loss of fertility or longevity, shrug off zero proof of safety over decades, as a small price to pay in the face of that great big scary accepted group unknown. I would sit up in bed and just, sense it. I’d say it aloud, talking to God. “I get it, God. I get it. I don’t judge them. They were so scared of some unknown entity that they could not hear another opinion, on their way to the widely accepted solution of an experimental shot.”
The fear shut down all careful, clear contemplation. As someone who refused to buy in, I had to be rejected, I had to be unseen. It’s that ‘just don’t even look at me’ kind of feeling when someone has so crossed a line. The fear was a comforting conclusion sweeping over them, coming to relieve of further cognitive burdens. ‘It’s been decided. Go away.’
But I was back in, the collective, for about 10 days. Psychically.
I got it, I really got it. This is what I sensed:
The evidence of collapsing athletes, bleeding, rashes, neurological disorders, seizures, and subsequent removal of personal social media posts on these thing are dismissed in a very orderly way. On an accepted group level, they are simply “rare” or “anxiety”. ‘Just don’t even look at me with that stupid stuff.’ The emotional group rituals of extreme outpouring of support for teenagers with cardiac issues and caring bridge webpages for long hospital stays in otherwise healthy young fathers and mothers are mandatory events. The cones of energy rising around not ever, ever, ever bringing up whether or not a booster was taken within weeks of said health event. We believe!!! Do not ruin it with your questions! Just don’t even look at me. The unspoken acceptance is how one shows their manners.’ To not ever mention the blameless and holy EUA mandated shot keeps the cone of energy rising and shame on you if you even think of it as a factor! The tidy brochures and graphics and commercials cover doubt and so there is no question on the acceptable scary UNKNOWN -which is not the shot. ‘Just be scared of the same thing as me, PLEASE.’
‘We who are scared of the right thing (unknown viral entity in group events, that “public health” saves us from, not the shot) we all know that we are the correct ones.’
‘We are correct. They are the loose cannons ruining life. They refused to protect me. Wait, what? Well yes, I got the shot, and yes, I still had Covid, yes. Plus unexpected and burdensome medical needs, but those are NOT THE SCARY UNKNOWN that is the acceptable thing to fear. And having gotten a shot protects one from it. (No, not from Covid. But the unknown thing to fear.) Getting Covid after a shot that has caused me other symptoms is bad, yes. But at least it is not the kind of bad that is them-the people who aren’t afraid of the only acceptable thing to fear! People who trust in natural immunity are bad. They are creepy, and racist, and outdated, and human, and Republican. They are holding back evolution into a smooth, fair, equitable, tech savvy “democracy”. We will all WIN if they would just stop. They are keeping us from WINNING. And getting back to normal.’
That’s about it. I felt and sensed all of that. And I felt like GARBAGE.
And then I took, under direction of my holistic doctor, a medication largely smeared and censored but touted as effective by a popular podcaster. It was also recently made over the counter in a midwestern state. I was a teensy bit afraid to take it, because I was still in my psychic all-access to the collective. But I felt free from the brain fog fear within an hour, and free from physical symptoms later that day. But mostly, I felt safely returned to my world, from having been somewhere else.
I got a glimpse of how this sham worked on a lotta people. The nefarious plan. It worked. A divide worked. As long as innocent citizens are pitted against each other, evil elites laugh all the way to the bank. It’s sad.
I am grateful for the glimpse and the grace of the experience, and the treasured alone time with my husband despite the circumstances. On the way home after he picked me up, a song I wrote years ago came to me. I was so foggy I couldn’t remember the melody. But I could remember writing it, after weeks of driving on tour with a bandmate who had talked my ear off and somehow made the trips lonelier. Then I recorded it live weeks later, the summer after my husband welcomed our now 16 year old into the world. The song was called Driving from my album “Better” and it fell out of me after that tour, when I got home to Nashville. Those lyrics were a call out to my true love, who I finally found. Despite all the insanity going on today, I felt so grateful to be in the car with my husband, going home, getting better.
