The Blue Rishi

THE COSMIC GENEIS: https://youtu.be/lnYvtVgYoIc

I was too young to know I was stolen. For two decades it was like being lost at sea .I never seem to arrive anywhere that was home. Then I realised I was the home, and those who stole me, also stole themself . I am telling you a secret, that you already know, but do not believe. When I go walkabout: You think I am lost, or irresponsible. You have no idea of the unseen forces that weave harmony in my life.

In my surrender, I discover strength beyond the mind’s limits.

Because I have trust, to allow inner light to gather, guiding me in darkness.

In the nowhere I dream, and miracles appear in plain sight.

It’s a devotion, where the impossible transforms into reality. This martyrdom into nothing, opens Soul’s destiny in unknown powers.

It's bountiful, how it arranges synchronicities of beauty. My utter gratitude shields me with radiance. I chant my linage story and song, for my ancestor’s path to guide me. I need carry nothing, nor change anything, as a living faith. And there is an unequalled happiness when creation blesses me. And all of what is required is to love.

I become Soul as I look out from a quiet ridge, where the first dawn spills like liquid gold over the clouds. The cosmic genius always recalibrates divinely in every incarnation, because the Soul has never forgotten its first genesis service—resting in clear Spirit, I listen to the choir in everything chanting Come with me.

I know you as the seeker that lights the lamp of intuition. It is not learned; it is recovered. And when it stirs, I feel again the ancient alignment of sacred purpose from the great breathing body of Earth. The senses sharpen, living simply—on wild fruits, clean waters, berries kissed by sun. In undisturbed nature, they link the vibrational symphonies of the Dreamtime.

From these simplicities rise the dream seeds and root memories that shaped our first peoples. Their migrations sang wisdoms into the stone. Their pilgrimages left handprints in the desert’s caves, and mountain passes, in the savannah trails, and the mangrove swamps, and where fireflies halo around the oasis date palms. These places hold the undisturbed vibration of first emergence.

I can guide you into the tombs deep in the Earth, where water descends in colloidal seas, around ancient underground cites from first peoples before. And I have stepped barefoot from the caves at dawn, where the morning dew becomes a baptism. In such moments the Soul rises like a crest of light. Every sound is a mantra—crackles in the air, the flutter of wings, the itchy tickles of roots rearranging themselves beneath the soil. ⏱ Each is a charade of message from Spirit. That in the emptiness creation, it is alive. It answers your thoughts. Yet it is private within you, to anyone else unconcerned, this neglect is what keeps you hostage, this is how your mind stole the opportunities of heaven to be lived. You wanted to create it out of yourself when spirit gives it you free in nature.

From this still point, consciousness moves in native way—levitating gently, projecting mirages of clairvoyance into the imagination. You inhale majesty, and without effort. Ideas come not as thoughts but as visions delivered by the Soul’s own dream of your future.

Let me share this holy service in my walkabouts: You will see-

When I rest in clear Spirit, in the nowhere, I remember my first genesis.

When there’s no interference, I walk gently to the rhythm of nature.

I breathe in a sacred percussion of movement, that glides within me Chanting softly until the forest recognizes me as kin.

I rise reborn in divine mantra, even my voice changes. A euphoric joy of gratitude swoons in my chest in being.

I see every form of myself in everything else. And my tears are of joy, as I am accepted.

When I surrender to this, I am home, I have a lightness of being an innocence, a utopia, an honouring of humble simplicity. Sometimes in such bliss I sing in tongues. You see I have nothing in everything and everything in nothing, my faith liberates me stress free. I stamp in dance to twirl in the dust, I paint myself. I have also watched other wanderers succumb like me, only able to offer a glance or a make a gesture, a double blink, as the entire cosmos floods their Soul.

The Oneness of unity becomes a glow like a butterfly has landed on the heart. When even silence becomes luminous by inner percolated giggles. It’s even funnier when people look at me, and think I am lost, while the cosmos is singing in me.

In this state of gratitude guidance arrives before the need is known. For instance, sacred herbs reveal themselves; as seedbeds of destiny, and the Earth herself becomes the keeper of ancient recipes. My favourite are Cordyceps rising from worm to mushroom, Ganoderma catching starlight on its lacquered skin, ginseng roots shaped like sleeping warriors entombed in the soil. I have crawled on high ridges to find these treasures. I have scraped luminous neon white bark off trees, only revealed by moonlight, where the desperate can use it for pain relief.

I share these memories not to instruct, but to honour the lineage from which they came. Every plant and stone is a chapter in the sacred library of the Earth. And frequencies in the cosmic genius reads these chapters, not with the mind, but with the ancient intuition of the Soul.

I am a black fella, but consider these blessings:

The wild crafted life can return the DNA to its source.

Raw Nature cleans perception, and prepares the body to carry higher states of consciousness. It teaches the difference between mind logic and reason, in balance with the experienced craft of intuition. It brings one closer to the threshold where Kundalini rises like a holy serpent through the vertebrae, mixing the spinal nectar with the secretions of the pituitary and pineal, forming the alchemical dew, to senses the veil of the astral, in an Ascension of Soul.

There are presences dwelling in the subtle layers around us, feeding on our emotions and guiding us in equal measure. Then you understand Karma, not as enemies nor angels, but custodians of thresholds. They match your vibration, creating mischief, but also unexpected grace. They are drawn to the resonance of an awakened heart, and they respond when the cosmic genius remembers itself.

Yet even with such gifts, it reveals the karmic weight of our choices have consequences. It shows how compassion and simplicity preserve joy, while carelessness leads to barren fields, sickness, and grief. And the body becomes the parchment on which these memories write themselves.

Know peace is a great power. So, treat yourself to prayer. Never be in debt with your sleep. Wash in moon-bathed flowers. Clean water is a first priority. Then you will hear the whisper of the way forward.

There is no right or wrong—only appropriateness to one’s current evolution. All beings are facets of the same jewel of consciousness. And until a person becomes Soul-connected and can walkabout, they cannot shine as the star of their own liberated destiny.

I see it in you the way I once saw it in myself, the living of Heaven on Earth. When you will feel the cosmic genius awaken fully within you, and remember your first genesis service resting in clear Spirit and being at peace in nature.

Claim back the liberated walkabout within you.

The Soul in your Great Dream.