Soulmate Dance - Anne Wade

Portals and Thresholds

Anne Wade Mindset and Personal Growth Leave a Comment

I was born on the 8th day of the 11th month. Yesterday. (Birthday officially over, but the feeling of portal opening continues.)

Beginning with that birthing date, life has unfolded in 8 year increments, each life octave having its own "curriculum" with a seismic event in the 8th year, starting with my first known vision (conversation with god, visit with the collective consciousness, waking dream) at age 8. That vision is still crystal clear...

A beautiful shimmering being spoke to me. He said:

“I AM your true father. Your true mother has died and I have you sent here until we can all be reunited. (Even as a child, I knew she was "dead" in the same sense as Sleeping Beauty, waiting for true love's kiss.) You have been sent to this family to learn how to love.”

My child self couldn’t understand and begged to know why I hadn't been sent to a loving family.

“You are here to learn unconditional love and forgiveness. Along the way, you will meet a brother who is not a brother, but who will be your soul's mate. Do not be afraid; I will always be with you.”

My child self sobbed.

It's been a gloriously bumpy ride, equally terrifying and exhilarating.

Until recently, that was where the vision ended. A few months ago, the vision began revisiting, continuing the story. The brother, the mother, the father, all the teachers and teachable moments have paraded through my meditations, telling the next bit of the story and the next bit after that.

Today, I turn 65, completing the 8th octave. 8 x 8. It feels like a culmination, but not an end. Of course, endings and beginnings are not opposites at all, and this feels like opening the gateway for a beginning of some sort.

Over the last 6 months, tantalizing glimpses have teased. Yes, the new book is part of it. Some days have felt wobbly and almost physically ill, yet even those days have been quietly exciting as my mind, my body, and my heart weave the fragmented pieces of themselves – of myself - together at long last.

And the shimmering voice keeps saying, "This. This is why you are here."

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