Heart Ki

Quick Reading: Memories of Being The Master

The following is a Quick Reading originally performed for a client. This is a reading of the Akashic Records that takes me a few hours to perform, and is delivered as text by email. All references to the person's identity were replaced with a fictional alias to protect their privacy. For the purposes of this publication, some portions of the original reading may have been rephrased, edited out, but no changes were made to the original meaning. Additional readings are published at the Patreon page. For more information about Akashic Records Readings in general, please see: Akashic Records Readings. For more information about Quick Readings specifically, please see: Reading Types at a Glance.

Once the reading begins, a sense of calmness, and an introspective mood, come into the reading’s space, occupying it. It’s a type of introspective feeling of the one who’s willing to go within, perhaps after a journey with a fair share of ordeal and uncertainty, to find some peace and quiet from the otherwise agitated and/or fast-paced external world. This is the energy that comes first during the reading, likely indicative of your current (spiritual) moment. If you’ve come across a newfound sense of peace from this introspective intent, then this information should validate how you feel, and encourage you to pursue it when you wish to. This also indicates a spiritual awareness that is in the process of growing.

This is the energy of stillness. It’s an awareness that almost isn’t interested in receiving any information from the reading, actually – but in truth, stillness is a profoundly spiritual energy that invites connection and growth, and is arguably one of the best mind-states to receive new spiritual information and insights. The external, contemporary world would often have you believe you always have to be fast-paced, busy, immersed in the proverbial hustle to get somewhere, achieve something, and be someone. And it will frown upon the concept of being stopped. Not that there isn’t a time and a place to get to work, and be in a state of flow – but often the truest parts of the self will only reveal themselves in stillness. So, in this sense, you can be at your innermost core self precisely when you’re still, and not the way around.

The perception and self-experience of stillness are spiritual gifts, earned through the hard word, while the mindsets of constantly being busy (and perhaps also preoccupied, worried) can block oneself from perceiving those gifts, from acknowledging them. There can be a strong contrast between what the world says it’s valuable, and what actually is valuable. How can I be still and at the same time remain adjusted to the world? How can “doing nothing” function in this reality? Regardless, know that it takes mastery to even perceive the energy of stillness, even if said stillness is doubted or questioned as it comes in.

A memory of a past life on another planet comes forth. [As I’m processing the image I’m being given, it’s a little peculiar that, as you will shortly see, some of the elements in the memory are quite similar to certain mystical stories we have here on Earth. Perhaps they’re being adjusted for better understanding of the reader, or, to fill in gaps of things that are too different in this other planet for my mind to interpret. Or, perhaps, the similarity comes from history happening in patterns and cycles, which makes it tend to repeat itself, regardless of where it is taking place.]

This memory happens in a desert-like setting, with scattered settlements where people live, ranging from larger cities to smaller campsites-like locations that are assembled near the many oases across the desert. In this setting, lived someone who others called a messiah – or, saint, prophet, or a “holy man”, to use Earth’s terminology. This saint combines a more or less regular, “normal” living, with the habit of frequently traveling from place to place across the desertic setting, visiting the multiple settlements and villages in his role as perceived by others – a role which we could simply refer to as a spiritual master/teacher.

[This setting really evokes the images of Jesus in Palestine, a story that became very well known on Earth’s culture.] The cultural traits of the setting are quite similar to those of that day as well. The societal, spiritual, and technological development of the civilization as a whole is roughly at the same stage as they were in the time of Jesus, on Earth. With this being said, this is where similarities start to fade, and these stories start to diverge. While there are some parallels, there are also a number of key differences between this memory and the more well-known ones on Earth. For starters, this teacher wasn’t ostracised or vilified in a significant way in his lifetime, nor was he met with a tragic ending halfway through his life. He lived a relatively long, and dare we say, uneventful, life.

Another difference is in the scope of the setting itself. On Earth, the desertic setting of ancient Palestine, the general area of the Middle-Eastern fertile crescent, and the general time period, were focal points for the development of several of the world’s religions and mystical philosophies; however, this was still just one of various such spiritual/societal hotbeds across the planet. Across the globe, many other places, at various points in time, originated philosophies of similar “weight”, within the scope of their own cultural backdrops and in regions with other climates, physically. While in this memory, this desertic setting, and culture, represent a large chunk of the habitable area of the planet, if not its entirety. In short, while Palestine was but one region of Earth, the setting in the memory corresponds more to the entirety of the culture and climate of the planet as a whole.

This man, as you might have wondered, is a past-life of yours, on this other planet. It’s a lifetime of being a spiritual master.

The man, unlike some of the stories of masters on Earth, wasn’t a savior. He wasn’t there to rescue others, save anyone, or take “his people” somewhere better – he had no “people”, everyone was ‘his people’. By this we mean there weren’t multiple groups waging war and/or in tension and strife, there was no enemy jeopardizing the safety of one specific set of people. Part of this was because of the reduced scope when compared to Palestine of Earth of an equivalent development stage on Earth. It was also, in part, because life itself was hard enough as it was; life and the conditions on the planet were sometimes the enemy. And there was less of a particular need for individuals to divide into groups, and then see each other as foes, and attack each other. These were two of the reasons, there were more.

As for the man, he was, simply, a reference.

He would travel to the next village, and upon arriving he’d be recognized by the majority, and he’d be usually welcomed with open arms. He would then proceed to visit a number of houses, that might be deemed of interest, for some particular reason – either it was of past friends, people who were experiencing difficulties of some sort, or simply in ceremonial duty, to welcome newborns, or in particular, new residents that had arrived recently at the settlement. Life in this desertic environment was somewhat difficult intrinsically, and for that reason, all lives, even of outsiders/foreigners wishing to settle, were valued and highly treasured. Life itself was generally seen as a positive thing, in this regard also a key difference between Earth’s history and this culture in particular.

There is no particular formalized religion. What there was, was the concept of the spiritual leader, the master or sage. Someone who was supposed to play the role of counselor, arbiter, and, in a manner of speaking, be the friend of the people. He held an unspoken, unwritten role that was of morality and ethics, being an embodiment of quiet calm and hope. In some ways there is some parallel here with what presidents do in the modern-day, not directly creating or enforcing laws, but using their presence, along with their demeanor and tone, by choosing where to go and what to bring attention to. Usually, someone in distress that was visited by him, would tend to receive more attention from the community with their personal problem, and could perhaps be assisted more promptly.

Additionally, he promoted amicable bonding among individuals. People would look up to him. They could maybe request advice for a problem in their lives, or a word of comfort, even if he wasn’t expected to intervene more than that, i.e. save them from those issues. Ultimately he didn’t have more “power” than any other person, so he wasn’t expected to “save” them – he was in the same boat as everyone else, so to speak – yet he was seen as a beacon, a reference. His arrival and presence would bring about good spirits, a good “energy”, to the overall morale of the village, and was seen in itself as a good omen. He would be as much of a guide as he was a nurturer. His presence was uplifting, and this was what was expected of him. This was the role of the leader in this culture and at this time, and he was naturally a good, natural fit, he was a good leader.

One of the primary experiences felt during this lifetime, was being welcomed with open arms by others. Widespread acceptance and validation, of a tranquil, peaceful kind. There was also much interpersonal interaction in this aspect, as the smaller scale of this culture allowed one to be closer to others on an individual level. That is not to say you were involved personally with others’ affairs; you would treat them as equals, but at the same time you also knew – “instinctively”, or with the wisdom of the sage, whichever way you wish to see it, it came from deep within – how to be close to others yet also stay at an arm’s length, keep a healthy distance, so as to care and appreciate but not become involved.

There were, of course, a few in every visit who sometimes were reluctant or in disbelief about you. Usually these would be mostly the younger generations, those who had never seen you (intervals between visitations could last a number of years) and/or wouldn’t be so quick to welcome you. These could even look down on you, or look the other way, for example. But this was more often than not out of prejudice, a reaction to something (or someone) they didn’t know anything about, and hadn’t met yet. They didn’t know you, and, didn’t know how to open an experience with an open heart. Welcoming the sage was in fact, and indirectly, a way for the older generations to teach and convey to the young, who might not have lived enough to see everything there was to see, that sometimes prejudice i.e. pre-conceived notions about something that was different and/or unfamiliar, could be ill-advised and ill-placed, and easily stand in the way of properly balanced discernment, creating closeness of the mind and misplaced judgment. This society, starting from their elders, cultivated the values of openness of mind, and of heart, throughout, pervasively. From Earth’s reference, we would observe this tended to alleviate issues resulting from the instinctive perception of “us vs them”. In turn, this had the long-term effect of preventing feelings of separation and strife to take hold. This was another way how the sage was a beacon and a positive influence – and a primordial reason why strife and tension between peoples were contained in this society, relatively speaking.

The sage glued the peoples together, in more ways than one.

This memory does not have anything to “heal”. It doesn’t contain unsolved experiences, trauma, or loose ends to solve. In fact, as a whole, it stands as a positive reference of your spiritual background, and in many ways, in your spiritual arsenal. It is a memory of literal mastery. And it is being forth with this reading in that capacity.

He did not have the perception of being better and/ or above others. He felt exactly like a regular person – something that also helped him stay grounded and level-headed, with very limited ego-based interests driving his actions. It’s just that he had been born with a particular set of individual traits that lend himself to embody the values of the sage of that specific society. And he had a number of inner, instinctive tools he could draw upon to navigate this role somewhat perfectly. One of them was the natural ability to navigate the duality between personal and impersonal, being amicable and a positive influence, dealing with others from the same level as them, while at the same time mostly remaining purely detached, uninvolved. Once more we establish a parallel between this and the role of a president of a nation today on Earth, which to some extent often have more of an influential role than an interventive one.

He didn’t know where he had gotten personal traits such as these, as to a large extent he hadn’t learn them anywhere, no one had taught him. It was simply “how he was”. We now tell you this was a source of inner wisdom which was his own, and which he knew how to wild, that had been acquired through his own process of experience and learning over many lifetimes and that he had brought into that lifetime.

We stated he lived a “normal” life in some ways because he didn’t exclusively travel, serving others as a beacon. He had his own village where he lived most of his life, and where he lived a simple, uncomplicated existence. Past a certain point, it became inevitable that those who traveled to his village to live there, did so as they naturally gravitated towards the master, aspiring to serve him, learn from him, and generally feel protected by his proximity. And so after some time, gradually, the village he had chosen to live in, could be observed as being of a predominant spiritual-minded tendency, composed by a majority that either admired the master or served him to some capacity.

This being said, from an early stage, fruit of his ingrained wisdom, he had the perception it wouldn’t be advisable for the village to grow continually, out of outsiders flocking to join due to the presence of the master. Remember this was a harsh desertic environment – there was nothing else but desert – where the spread of population needed to be kept in balance, and resources had to be managed and distributed wisely, with heavy risk and consequence otherwise, namely that of health and life. It’s not that others wouldn’t be welcome in the village in general, but there were a number of reasons against this prospect. Indefinite growth wouldn’t have been scalable/manageable; it could draw disproportionally from the populations of other settlements, destabilizing the balance of the scarce resources of the environment. And an excess of people together in just one place could prove difficult to handle in terms of managing their outlook upon each other – and it would make it extremely difficult for the master to remain in a detached, uninvolved stance. He would have been hard-pressed to assume some sort of figure of relative but effective political power, and of an ailing settlement. For these reasons, in practice, if everyone wanted to join the “village of the master”, this could inadvertently have the effect of bringing about imbalance rather than balance, just because of the influence he had.

So from his wisdom, over time he conjured a number of ways so as to discourage people from wishing to joining the village, at least in a widespread, consistent manner. This wasn’t in any way malicious, elitist, resulting from reclusive tendencies, etc.; rather, it was a set of measures devised so as to keep people safe from imbalance, due to his own self-awareness of his influence and effect over the rest of the community. So for this purpose, some ideas were put forth over time, always in some way to put a break, to dissuade, others from having the prospect to join the village and actively live there. One was that too many people next to the master would bring about spiritual imbalance (which was literally true, even if somewhat hard to justify). One was that the village was somehow ‘mystical’, guarded by spirits, and therefore hard to find and/or get to – and as such traveling there was physically risky. This was somewhat true in a way, but it was nevertheless taken out of proportion, slightly. Another was that only the ‘chosen ones’, i.e. those who had been picked or approved by the master, could serve him in an up-close manner. This idea in particular could incur the potential for elitist/segregation beliefs to sprout inadvertently, the absolute precise opposite of his effect, message, and role. Yet this was also partially true: the master had some saying in whom he preferred serving him next to his side, in a more close capacity.

These ideas had to be navigated and managed cautiously, as there was always the risk of them backfiring, that is to say, bringing in more imbalance than the other way around, namely in terms of beliefs in perceptions in those around him. But this was achieved expertly, as very little harmful effect came about from these. And this was possible thanks to the expertise of the master in navigating the intricate web between personal and impersonal, close and distant, supportive but not interventive. The ideas created an “aura” around the village, with the intended effect of achieving some distance between the village and the surrounding society to be served by the master. This was the distance he so expertly knew how to maintain on a personal level.

After his passing, these values and beliefs, which had been instilled with a particular, practical, and well-meaning purpose, grew somewhat fuzzy and distorted, as they were passed from generation to generation – also due to the very positive reputation of the master during his life. Over time the village gained a reputation of being almost mythical and hard to find, an elusive mirage that, willingly and almost with a mind of its own, would only show itself to those who were spiritually worthy and are chosen, but remaining unachievable otherwise. the idea of the village eventually became associated with the local idea for the afterlife, the “promised city”. In practice, these beliefs could be described as remaining benevolent, in the sense adopting them didn’t bring harmful effect – as the master had intended in his lifetime. For the most part, these were more like tales, passed on by elders from one generation to the next, rather than stories strictly institutionalized into a formal belief system.

This memory represents a direct, firsthand experience, of (actual) spiritual mastery, and it serves you in that capacity. Any connections of your inner attributes that you can establish with this memory, serve to validate them, and acknowledge the wisdom they carry. Above most else, this brings you a close, natural, “ordinary”, peaceful, uncomplicated relationship with the practical experience of spiritual mastery. Spiritual mastery doesn’t feel like something foreign, distant, impersonal – perhaps like some philosophies on Earth would have you believe – rather it is something up close and personal, which was experienced on this occasion. You also have your own brand of mastery, how it feels, and how it works, within your own references. This reading is essentially a validation of that brand.

We reiterate how we started the reading. Often ideas that are prevalent on Earth will transmit the idea one has to hustle, go to the fight, or otherwise do something or show some value, before you’re allowed to be acknowledged, seen as valuable, useful, merit-worthy. On Earth today, even if you’re a spiritual authority, sometimes you’re expected first to ‘prove it’ by displaying a miracle, curing another, or fireworks. Earth has a way of making you feel you have to “do” something; and that if you don’t “do anything”, then you haven’t proved your worth, you’re not good at anything, and so forth. One of the primary tenets that were acquired as wisdom from this life, was that you don’t have to do anything in order to be who you are. Which in this case was, mastery: a beacon of positive influence, comfort, peace, clarity, and union.

Believe it or not, one of the doubts the master harbored during this lifetime was precisely about the disparity between helping and “not doing anything” – sometimes what you’re good at, is precisely where your deepest doubts and hesitations lie. All masters feel responsible for those they teach, and will always want to “rescue” those who seek them. So out of his own sense of responsibility, he questioned within, to himself, whether “just” being an influence was enough; whether “just” comforting others was enough. And there was a residue of guilt about not being able to take the pain of others away, not being able to perform miracle cures or magical effects, that could make others’ problems disappear.

The answer didn’t come to him overnight, rather, it was a very gradual process. But over time, throughout his life, he came to terms, and grew more peaceful, about his own nature, his worth, and the role he was meant to play. It helped that for the most part he was encouraged by the feedback from others, how he was received, which only grew more and more positive as he got older. And so he improved and perfected his own balance, and how he expertly managed the intricate balance between closeness and distance. And he became more and more comfortable with the life he lived, and with the reference he was able to be for those around him.

He realized he didn’t have to “do” anything to be the master, to be the reference: he simply was that already. And it was this realization that led him to graduate, in other words, ascend, in that lifetime.