In a world full of sleek videos and consciousness teachings downloadable with one tap, I still find what I want to say is best told through a story. This story may appear to be about me and about Morya, but I assure you - it was written just for you. With love." ~ Sarah  The following is from notes I am writing for a new book called Sarah speaks. As most of you are aware, Ascended Master Morya - a longtime companion of mine - was the ascended counterpart to my incarnation here on Earth. A sponsor, if you will.
Soon enough there will be more ascended masters on Earth than in the Ascended Masters Club, but that’s another story for another time. Morya reminded me of who I was prior to me finding any sort of group or teaching in the physical world. His school had no books. It had no language but that of love, dreams and remembrance for the human vessel. To me a teacher is an equal, or even more neutral than that. In your language, hierarchy is an illusion. When the mind goes beyond a dualistic construct, we are all just walking each other home. The teacher is not someone who knows more, and the student is not someone who sucks that knowledge through a straw - for there is always a part of us hovering beneath the branches of the majestic banyan tree. What I am saying is that: who each of us truly is - is that which is prior to consciousness. The teacher comes in at varying stages of awareness to open up potentials, possibilities, probabilities and passageways for the Return to that Self. The student is simply energy returning home to their inimitable consciousness. Teachers show you where to look; not what to see. I, Sarah, am both - always able to play a role in the etheric realms - illuminating paths to God, if you will. And 'my' energy is forever a learner of SELF on the other side of the Wall of Fire. The love between teacher (consciousness) & student (energy) is truly what brings them together in the Christ Consciousness or New Energy. Now that we have cleared that up in the dual mind, I want to walk you through something new. The further of the back story is that in February/March 2020 - right before the world turned upside down or the wheel of change began to turn without anyone actually touching it - Morya was with me on a trip to India. So-See-Hooooooon - or the DNA swirl of dragon clarity and humility, defined here as the human (energy) bowing at the feet of the God, also (consciousness) over and over and over again - had been with me for some years. In this trip I did not plan - but simply told a travel agent to take me to Rajasthan – I found myself touring places where I had once lived. I could say where I lived long ago. I could say from previous lifetimes. Yet, here I was too far beyond self-realization to have those mind experiences delineated in past, present and future. These energetic imprints were happening in the simultaneous now. A modern woman with a suitcase on wheels, was also a one of six wives of a ruler of India. She was forced to burn herself alive when another husband – a Rajput warrior was killed in battle – a tradition that ensured another man could not take the wife of the fallen too. The realities ran parallel – simultaneously. And because the dragon clarity had adjusted my vision so strongly, I did not feel any pain by them. Simply energetic imprints. Morya, who had first appeared to me in his white master robe; later a Rajput prince on his Arabian, riding away from his karma; and as a black-cloaked magi just several months prior to the Return to Self, he was here again, this time looking more human than ever. In the space between the swirling timelines and palaces and lineage and doctrines, he showed up to me in jeans and a green t-shirt. We were the same no-age in the same no-place at the same no-time. “Sarah, can you forgive me?” I was startled by the question. It took me a minute to realize what he meant by the question. He meant for all the harm he had caused me in every lifetime in which we played the same role of husband and wife over and over and over and over again. And again. And just one more time in case we didn’t destroy each other enough. “Of course, I can.” I said it, and I meant it. Tears rolled from his eyes. I could see that he had not forgiven himself. And I opened a very large wooden door with an ornate brass handle to let in the light of forgiveness. And so, he allowed it, tears streaming down his face. As it happened, I saw how hard he had been on himself. Just like each of you reading this are on yourselves. “All is forgiven and there is nothing to forgive,” I say not him or anyone else but just so it's on record. Simultaneously, I see our roles reversed. He is a young man in his 20s. He is standing in the garden of his family’s royal home in Rajasthan. He is choosing what you all call self-realization, and it is beginning to sink in how much he must give up – the real illusion of it. The swallowing of the pride. The false connections. The marriage to time and space. He comes to this garden often to clear his mind. I see that I, Sarah, am the ascended counterpart for his incarnation on Earth and what he came to do – in his “last lifetime” – I am always with him in the garden, but he cannot always see, feel or hear me. One day he yells to me, crying out in pain, “Where are you? Why aren’t you here?” I say to him, “I am here.” "You are too upset to hear me but I am here." I realize how we set this up for one another. One ascended and one embodied. One embodied and another ascended. Unable to destroy one another. I see myself crying on the bathroom floor in linear year 2014. “Where are you?” I scream to him. He says to me, “I am right here.” But I cannot yet hear him.
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 Those with eyes saw. Those with ears heard. Those with no voice sang. Before social media there was a call that could be heard throughout all of creation. The call for sovereignty rang out as silent bells at the end of the Atlantean Era. Many of you rang the bell allowing full realization of your sovereignty at that time and space, which runs parallel, simultaneous to this designated ascend-ee lifetime right now. Most often people find the Sovereign Collective through that silent song. Sometimes it is accompanied by a dream or meeting in the beyond - not a visit from Lauren's energetic expression but from consciousness - Sar'h (sa-RA) who held a form to sing the song of freedom in the last Atlantean lifetime. A call to gather around the fire of the Sovereign Collective. A no-place space and no-date time. Sovereignly together. Together and free. We. Are. Not. A. Group. For some of you, there may not be full context here for the video above. But the energy is the same. We are using it as yet another sound-less song to gather again. For the others this may be gibberish. Totally, and that's okay. That's also why it's not on public YouTube or social media this month. We'll do something for everyone next Satsang - where we go back to the individual journey. In honor of you -- A little more background is below - just in case.... For the story of how I lost voice in Atlantis (background only): My Atlantean memories first started to come back in January of 2018. About 2-3 months after realizing I was realized – The Return to Self. Each one has come with a physical symptom – mouth sores, cold sores, nerve pain and on… And, as the Atlantean memory surfaces to integrate with love, compassion and allowing forgiveness, the part of the body experiencing the problem as become ‘healthy’ again. It’s never about the symptom really. It’s never about the human stories we used to tell ourselves. So, in this memory I am an Atlantean woman of some stature. I am tall with long black hair, and I feel my ‘power’ in my womb. This is later in the Atlantean era when things are beginning to really fall apart in a way that can't be put back together. I enter the Temples of Tien to talk with the leadership about some of the things happening in Atlantis. Perceived severe injustices. The Temple Leaders tell to me stop talking or I will be punished. This is not our first conversation about this. They have already taken many things from me, yet I continue on. “I will never stop speaking up,” I tell the Temple leaders. One of the leaders (also here again now but nicer this time), looks at me with laser like focus, and I feel something in my throat. My voice has been disabled. It is like someone cut out my voice box so I could no longer speak. It feels as if my throat was energetically raped. My voice – my power – was taken from me. Others in the temple watch, but they say nothing. They turn their back on me. They know it’s wrong but they won’t do anything because of their fear. In that moment, I want revenge. I want to attack and destroy. And then something rises up deep from my womb of knowingness: I realize my power – so to speak – comes from within and no one can actually take it from me. I realize this is my own creation, and there is no one to blame. I realize I do not need my voice to speak. I make a sound-less laugh in the face of the temple leader, bow and exit. Thank you – I whisper -- nothing comes out. This video covers what comes next. Painting of Sar'h Consciousness by Eiril Art  |
AuthorLauren Hutton (Sarah) writes adventure novels and short stories about the self-realization experience and beyond.She fancies herself a humanizing divinity journalist and shares her work here. Archives
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