By: Santosha Tantra
They say that there is nothing more dangerous than an idea that has met its time. But there was a danger to the status quo that was more powerful than an idea that met its time, and that danger was the dream that has met the power of its transmission—and Ayra had that power and lived it—she walked it, and her transmission, her power to radiate unabashed joy produced a network, an eternal doorway of joy to all the feminine receptors of it. Yes, baby! The Divine Feminine could no longer be suppressed or denied. The cork had been popped. Ecstasy was here! Her Ecstasy, her unabashed joy made obsolete the struggle of ideas, even the best ones to gather the momentum of believers to come alive through the struggle of action and the resistance to it. Her dreams couldn’t be resisted. They were too affecting; they were immediately experienced. There was nothing one could do. There was only the receiving of what each heart knew was true. Unabashed love and the joy of it could not and would not be postponed, struggled for, or earned to be enjoyed in a well-deserved future opportunity. There was no earning joy! It was your own nature. It belonged to everyone, and no one could earn or own it. It was naturally occurring, like all the true natural elements that are freely given. No one had the ignorance to stop it, to pollute it, to diminish it. The joy of the open heart and open hand was being dreamed, being experienced, and being lived right now. What a time to be alive! The law of attraction had met its target. The key had been turned and the bars that the prison of fear had created, and all the history of fearful hierarchy were finished, and no one could even remember what all those fears and rules and laws were about. Yippee! This happened—this freedom to live as love and joy, the power to receive it and open it, happened all at once, but the moment that each heart received it occurred in a moment of special, intimate, self-recognition.
The feminists worked hard to send invitations for all. They worked from their space station—a massive complex that was invisibly suspended above the earth. They worked with fervor, with passioned intensity, with delight, with the knowledge that their sister Ayra was the open-heart transmitter. They worked from their invisible post with a well-intentioned hilarity. Their energy was inexhaustible. They took no breaks. The higher realms and the inner-space beings joined forces with the feminists. Not only was there no time like this one, all of space was a buzz and affected by the changes that were occurring through Ayra—and through Ayra were being received on Earth. The feminists were dancing at their work, laughing and doing weird, hilarious jigs as their joy, the joy of their work, had to be expressed. Yes, inner space was aglow.
Ayda, the hardest working of the feminist-clone sisters, and the most serious, couldn’t contain her mirth. Ayma, the more cautious of the sisters, led the charge to turning up Ayra’s frequencies. Aysa was so on fire, so delighted that the people of the Earth realm were being open receivers of the One True Heart transmission, that she documented—thus personalizing the stories of how heart transmission and opening was occurring on Earth. It is through her work that we get to hear and read about three particular women and how they received the transmission of their own hearts opening, and how resonating as their own hearts changed everything for them. The first woman that she recorded and presented in a story was an earth woman that she had worked with—that had served their work with Ayra and Bodi.
Adediman was the cartographer who had helped to find the ancient documents of truth that had been left by enlightened women. Adediman lived closest to the source of the heart frequency and transmission. She and Ayra were housemates and when Ayra needed to wander to do her work, Adediman accompanied her and created maps of their wanderings that depicted both where they had been and how the transmission linked with both the external and internal aspects of the women they met. How was she affected and changed by Ayra’s transmission? Aysa watched and recorded her story. Aysa was the feminist who understood Adediman’s talents the best. She had researched her in the all-knowing knowledge library, and she discerned her long-standing relationship with the Bodhisattvas of each age. What was interesting about Adediman, Aysa discovered, was that she was neither a new soul nor an old soul—she was what was called (very rare) a companion. Companions were actually a personalized aspect of the impersonal becoming the personal in the work and form of a Bodhisattva. They came to serve the work of the Bodhisattva and when the work was finished, they merged back into the impersonal aspect of the Bodhisattva, but in Adediman’s case a form would always stay here waiting for the Bodhisattva to appear again. She had never merged but stayed here passing into one form or another. Ayra’s work to bring the Heart forward and let it shine its play of already happy, affected Adediman to know the force of her own heart. She experienced joy and love in the force of her own self-recognition and knew herself as the joy and force of love—she knew herself as the One True Love. This self-recognition, like Ayra’s transmission of already happy heart, had its own force and power that she was learning to use. Was she becoming a Bodhisattva as well? Aysa suspected that this was the growing truth in Adediman. She wondered how this would play out. Who better than a cartographer to depict their journey, both outer and inner?
Adediman loved being with Ayra and watching her work. She accompanied her as she roamed and learned so much. She was beginning to understand how joy was known, seen and felt through the Heart being open, self-aware, and lived. She understood that Ayra’s happiness came not from some other place or Source that Ayra tapped into or was a bridge for. Ayra is happiness, is Source. Wherever they went, Ayra was happy before they even got there. She was happy before anything happened or appeared. She stood and walked as the infinite doorway. How could anyone, any being, be happy before anything happens—before anything needs to happen or will happen? Ayra didn’t need to walk—where she stood was already happy. Adediman knew that Ayra’s walking was for everyone else. As she walked with Ayra, she knew that the happiness she felt more and more would never leave her—that it would only magnify. It was hard to make a map of happiness—of its deepening and the effects of that deepening. She could make a map of Ayra’s wandering and she sent her maps to Aysa, and Aysa shared them with the other feminist sisters from outer space. So many changes were occurring as a result of Ayra’s wandering transmission. She knew that the feminist sisters were keeping, tracking, mapping it with their own kind of technology that she didn’t understand. She thought of the work of the Bodhisattva and knew that Ayra’s work and transmission must be a culmination of all their previous work. As a standing companion with the Bodhisattva and now a walking companion with the Bodhisattva, Arya, wondered how is this gift of already heart open, already happy, was being given so easily, so freely? She asked Ayra this very question as they walked into a small town nestled in a redwood forest in northern California.
“Ayra,” she asked, “Why is there no necessary purification now for people to self-recognize their own true state of already happy? Why can you so freely give it, and women are able to accept it?”
Ayra smiled, “This is a unique time when no preparation is necessary to receive the self-recognition of already Heart open, already happy freedom. As a standing companion to the Bodhisattva, you have seen all the work and preparation that has been put into this unique offering and unique time.”
Adediman reflected on her words, “What will happen in this time with the gift you are so freely giving? How will it change everything?”
Arya smiled, “You will see, my dear one.” The two women, both feminists of the truest order, the Bodhisattva of the time and her heart-friend companion, made their way to the busiest café in the heart of the town. They ordered a bowl of soup and a salad. Adediman could feel Ayra’s magic begin to take effect on the people eating, chatting, and serving in the café. The room was aglow with bright golden light. Ayra was smiling that sweet smile of hers, her effortless transmission was at work. She noticed the woman holding her guitar and getting ready to perform on the small platform designated for such performers and put down her soup spoon to give her full attention. The woman cleared her throat and greeted everyone by saying, “Hello, my name is Willie, and I am going to sing my newest song for you, it’s called ‘She Gives Us the Gift’.” Adediman turned to Ayra and smiled. Willie began to strum her guitar, a really big smile spread across her face. She stopped strumming and her smile turned into laughter. She tried to speak and her laughter rolled on and she couldn’t stop it. The laughter became infectious, and everyone put down their forks and spoons to engage it with her.
Finally, Willie’s laughter subsided and she spoke into the microphone, “I can see everyone is feeling as good as I am. I don’t know what is overcoming me, but I love it. It makes me want to sing!” Willie sang like she had never sung before. It was a song that rocked with joy and her body couldn’t contain her mirth—she had to jump up and down, she had to keep moving to give her joy more space. Others also responded and danced in their own unique manner.
Adediman laughed and laughed, “This is amazing, all these people feeling your joy,” she looked at Ayra.
Ayra corrected her, “It’s everyone, joy is everyone’s state—they are finally feeling it!”
Willie finished her song, happily exhausted, “That was my song ‘She Gives Us the Gift’, wow and what a gift!” she added.
I don’t think it was any coincidence that after Ayra and Adediman finished their dessert and the vibe was at an all-time high, but in a more mellowed version of the energy, they decided to leave. They met Willie packing her guitar and amp into her SUV.
“On to the next gig, your next performance?” asked Ayra.
Willie shook her head, Ayra and Adediman could see that the transmission of already happy was taking a deep hold of her. Willie answered them, “No, just going home.” She stared at the two women. “I don’t know why but I’m just so happy,” and she added, “so happy, you know the kind of happiness that changes everything. So happy that I might just keep driving and driving!”
Ayra laughed, “I know what you mean! For me, it’s the walk, I’ll probably walk everywhere and for all time!”
Willie laughed and closed her back door. She laughed again and put her hands together and bowed to Ayra, not knowing why she was doing that. The three women stopped and began a gaze into each other’s eyes and hearts that I swear lasted till the full moon rose.
Willie could hardly speak, her mind was so blown, her heart was in the driver’s seat, “Could I offer you a ride perhaps?” she asked.
Ayra responded, “Well, we usually walk, but we’ll make an exception in this case, a ride to the next town.”
All three women sat in silence as Willie got on the road and drove into the well-lit night. She had the strangest thought and was surprised that she actually spoke it out loud, “The moon is so bright tonight that I am suspecting that it might be a huge spaceship following us!”
Adediman looked at Ayra. Ayra was encouraging, “I had the same thought not only that the moon is actually a spaceship, but it is being piloted by feminists—feminists from outer space.”
Adediman laughed and winked at Ayra.
Willie laughed too; she just didn’t know that they weren’t really kidding. They drove past the next town and the next and wherever they went the huge moon rose over them—a little bit down the road. Willie couldn’t resist the pull of its orb—whether it was the orb of the moon or the orb of a spaceship, she didn’t care. She wasn’t going home tonight, maybe she wasn’t ever going home again. Maybe she was home, driving down the road. Maybe, just maybe she never needed to get to anywhere—even her home—maybe, just maybe she was already home wherever she was. I must write that down and make it into a song. For now, she was where she had always known she could be, a place where she had been searching for—the place that she wrote about getting to. How silly, she thought, I have always been there, been here. How do I know this? she wondered, what happened for me to understand this?
Ayra spoke to her through heart telepathy. “It is my gift to you. It is a gift that is being shown and given over and over in life, a gift that our very true self reveals. It seems in time, but it is actually always present but overlooked by the search for it in another moment. It is always here.”
How can I live this way? Willie wondered. How can I live in the happy—in my heart, in this moment even when time seems to progress, and suffering is occurring?
Ayra spoke out loud, “Sing! Sing your joy! Sing your heart! Show it! And share it with everyone. Sing your songs of joy with them!”
Willie sighed a deep, deep sigh of agreement “I will, I will always!”
The feminists in both vehicles, the car being driven in the night and the spaceship appearing as the moon, were well pleased. Their journey of arriving, of Ayra’s transmission being received was their grand victory. It was occurring without a hiccup, well at least right now—it was smooth driving. Who or what would oppose the perfect joy of already happy transmission or understanding? Why would they want to? For now, they watched and remained hidden. For now, they carried their burden of doubt and mistrust overlooking their own already happy heart. The great big monkey knew where they were going and what they wanted. He had seen it all before—right before the brightest light—the full appearance and acceptance of the heart—the dark filled with its fear and terrible thoughts clamored to be heard before its disappearance was imminent due to the light that shines us all. He also watched from a distance the walking women, Ayra and Adediman. They might need his protection at some point, and he always lived to serve the heart, the light. He was always alive here and had seen everything from the beginning. He was here to serve the Bodhisattva of the times and their work of purifying the world of its darkest tendencies and biggest problems. He had never seen a Bodhisattva like Ayra, her work was creating a shift like no other Bodhisattva had ever created before. All or nothing, he thought. This sacred Earth will either become extinguished or shifted in a way that will change everything forever. He knew that the Earth collaborated with Ayra’s transmission and either conducted it or magnified it, he wasn’t sure. He knew that he could be of service to Ayra if she needed it or asked for it. If she asked, he would not hesitate to appear before her. For now, he watched and followed those who would oppose Ayra and her work. Could they gather the momentum, would they create their own narrative that would justify harming Ayra and Adediman? For as long as the big monkey lived here, he would never truly understand why anyone would hate on love—would oppose the vulnerability of the heart. He was stationed here to serve, and he always appeared when needed.
He was aware of the enormous spaceship that was hovering over part of North America. He knew he was the only big monkey left here with his powers—his kind had descended here to serve and develop the creatures here—they had all left. He was instructed to stay behind to serve the Bodhisattva in accomplishing their mission. Sometimes their mission involved the necessity of a big war to purify the world of the darker beings and their cruel beliefs. This time was different, he didn’t quite understand what Ayra’s mission was, though he did sense its effects. He noticed that it was taking an immediate effect on the women—that the feminine was coming alive in a way he had never seen before. This effect, he knew, would change everything. It had its effect on him too—his heart came forward and he wanted to enjoy this own livingness as his own heart. This made him feel everything was sacred and he was moved to tears to know and feel in this way again. This was how he felt in the beginning and as he had served the next Bodhisattva. One day, he hoped he would return to his home in the beautiful abode that was his place. Perhaps the time was getting close, he would return home. He felt his return would occur as Ayra finished her work of transmission. He was ready—if she needed him. He knew that she would. Yes, the times were a-changin’. No one could account for it. Theories and conspiracies abounded. Everyone knew that everything had changed but no one knew how. Somehow, I feel everything is different now, but how could it be? Everyone wondered. Everyone kept on with their routines, but their hearts were waiting, looking for someone to come into view—to appear and confirm what they had been always longing for.
Kadee sensed a presence that she longed to meet. She didn’t understand the longing in her heart, all her fantasies of romantic love had already been fulfilled. She had fallen in love with her husband, and she loved her children with all her heart. This longing she felt was different from the love she had already known and the love she had already given. She sensed that the love she was longing for would not be met by bonding to another; this love was a meeting and bonding and merging and deepening in her very self. But who am I, what is love if it’s not given to me by others? She felt she had known love in her life, but she did not feel fulfilled by it—she accepted and allowed herself to feel some satisfaction from it. She knew she couldn’t know and live love through another’s acceptance of her. They couldn’t decide how deep her love could be. Only she could. Her longing made her feel that there was a dream of love that she hadn’t quite imagined yet, a love so deep that it transformed everything. She dreamed of her first before Ayra appeared by the side of the road walking in a strong rhythm alongside another woman, Adediman. The dreams repeated in a loop—she saw the two women walking down the road a few blocks from her house. In her dreams she always passed them by. In her dreams she watched them in her rearview mirror as they walked out of sight. In this dream of physical experience, she stepped on her brakes, pressed the button to roll down her window and called out, “Hello, I live a few blocks from here, would you like to come over to my house and let me make lunch for you?” She had to follow her impulse, she had to know (this time) how the dream would turn out.
Ayra looked at Adediman and shrugged her shoulders to say, why not? Adediman took the cue and the two women climbed into the pickup truck.
“I’m Kadee.”
Adediman spoke up, “I’m Adediman and this is my friend Ayra. Thanks for your offer, we were both getting very hungry.”
Kadee made her two honorable guests her turkey brie sandwiches.
Ayra spoke up, “These sandwiches are quite delicious. I’m glad we finally met.”
Kadee responded, “Thanks,” she paused and asked, “What do you mean that we finally met, were we supposed to meet before, or at some time?”
Ayra laughed, “I suppose everything happens at the right time, or the time it’s supposed to.”
“Do I know you?” Kadee asked. “Do we have some kind of connection?”
Adediman spoke up, “Have you met the feminists from out space?”
“The what?” asked Kadee.
“The feminists from outer space,” repeated Adediman.
“I’m not following you.” She began to think that it was not a good idea inviting the two walking women into her home.
“Let me show you,” Adediman looked at Ayra and Ayra nodded.
“We can show you, would you like to meet them?” asked Ayra.
Kadee was flabbergasted as to what to do. Her normal response would have been to calmly, politely throw these two women out of her home. She asked herself, what if this was a dream, would I proceed and trust these women?
“Okay, where can we meet them?” She indulged her guests.
“They are in an invisible spaceship above your house,” Adediman informed her. Adediman opened her iPad, “It’s okay, she’s ready.”
Ayda opened the portal and the three women ascended into the ship. No, this can’t be happening, her conscious mind said over and over again. Was it? Was it happening?
She found herself standing in a hallway diffused with a luminous watery light. She saw three beings aglow in the luminous light. She was surprised when they all greeted her and that they all looked like Ayra. She looked towards Ayra and asked, “Are these women all versions of yourself?”
Ayra laughed, “They are my sisters, they are the feminists from outer space.”
The feminist sisters hugged Kadee and Ayda welcomed her, “Welcome to inner space. We have so much to catch up on.”
Kadee was trying to remember, it was almost there, like a dream that she knew she would remember in the morning but when morning came, she could only catch glimpses. She knew it had to do with the longing that she felt, that it was calling her to know, to experience what she most needed and wanted. Kadee jumped out of her bed and dressed quickly. She glanced at her watch. She had been asleep for 2 hours. She opened the sliding glass door and walked out. The ship was there and Ayra and Adediman were waiting for her. They ascended up.
Am I awake now or am I still sleeping? How can I not discern between the waking and sleeping state? She wondered. Am I losing my mind? And she started to laugh, why not? Why not lose my mind?
Ayra looked at Kadee and laughed too, “It’s always like this when the mind is not in control, when the heart takes the lead. What we dream is not reality, but reality likes to play in dreams, we are all dreaming in the unifying field of the Heart.”
Kadee wasn’t sure what Ayra meant, but she couldn’t deny that her way of feeling and perceiving was very different. “I feel that my being and my existence is bigger than I have ever imagined. Are you beings dreaming this experience for me?” She asked Ayra, Adediman and the luminous beings before her.
“In a way,” they replied. “It’s you that has created this adventure.”
“I don’t think I ever could have imagined being in a spaceship with lookalike feminists,” Kadee conjected.
Aysa stepped forward, “But oh, you did. I can show you your file.”
“My file?” asked Kadee, “What do I have planned next, then?”
Aysa scrolled through Kadee’s file thinking hmm, taking a bit to get to this moment. “Here,” she stopped and read the file. “Well, what happens next is very, very good and I must say I do like the depth of your imagination.”
Kadee was puzzled, her sense of humor eased her confusion, “So sisters, I’ll become one of you and I will use my newly emerging powers for the good of all, is that what my file says?” she asked.
Aysa read on, “Spot on, word for word.”
The sisters looked at each other and the current of heart fun could be felt by Adediman and Kadee. No one moved, a wave of smiles was experienced by all, and they began to dance. Adediman could see a wave of light passing between them like a ball being tossed. Kadee could see it too and joined in the fun. She knew her life had changed, she was not going back to where she had lived, to where she had started. She had dreamed that life and it had served its purpose, now she was imagining this one—her power to dream, to imagine, was opening and she would accomplish the means to help Ayra and the feminists to change everything. She wanted to dream impossible dreams, she dreamt the perfect dream of knowing oneself truly, to self-recognize herself as her own creator. She had wanted to dream to know herself as she truly is and now that life was beginning.
“We’ve got work to do, our work is our play, everyone must know and feel this.”
“Yes,” agreed Kadee. “Everything must live as the unifying field of love. What do I do, how can I help?” Kadee asked.
Does dreaming take place in the night—in shadows? Does it begin and grow in the womb of the unknown? Does it emerge into the light to be seen and manifested? Ayra didn’t walk for the next few weeks, she rested deeply into her own being. Adediman and the feminists (now including Kadee) waited for her and charted the course of the women that Ayra had already touched. These touched women shone like light beacons spread out on a dark, moonless night. They traveled and did not stay for long in one place. Their happiness was infectious wherever they went. The usual complaints in life, the Debbie-Downer frowns, the dwelling on trivial negativities gave way to smiles and hugs whenever one of Ayra’s girls hit town. They were casting a spell that only the heart could do. The spell of beingness, of being already happy before anything happened, or before anything needed to change, was their gift and Willie sang her songs that infected everyone with this kind of unreasonable happiness. Willie knew everything had changed, how could she feel herself as happiness already here and never to somehow try to find it again? She wrote a song thanking Ayra for this gift and wrote a song called “Everyone Has Changed, Everyone is Finally Being Themselves.” A long, awkward title, perhaps? It was becoming an anthem for the women who were now walking in their own shoes. What was it like to bring the heart forward to meet everyone and all events as joy? Women were not only finding out the location of their hearts, but how to be lived as the heart. What a magnificent time to be alive!
Adediman enjoyed being with the feminists from outer space. She realized that to really chart their course, she needed to learn more about their travels into inner space. Aysa had told her that the place they were from wasn’t a physical realm.
“More like where dreams appear?” asked Adediman.
“Yes, kind of like that, it’s like a place that always moves and always changes,” answered Aysa.
“Well, how do you know that you are home?” asked Adediman.
Ayra smiled, “Good question, there’s a hole between the light and the dark—between the unmanifested and the manifested.”
“A hole?” asked Adediman.
“Do you know the moment when you are falling asleep? Your consciousness fades from being in your bed or room and images begin to appear, to move you into this other room that does not require your physical body to enter it? The moment or place that is neither experience is a doorway, yet it is a place of its own.” Answered Aysa.
“Really?” asked Adediman, “Fascinating, did you ever chart it or represent it in your work?”
Aysa replied, “We call it O or sometimes Open.”
“How do you experience O as your home?” asked Adediman.
“When we experience it, it’s similar to the experience of already happy that Ayra is transmitting to this world. We understand it as our home—as O, as Open. It is our being without shadow, form or contrast.”
Adediman wasn’t sure she was following what Aysa was explaining to her. She puzzled over it, the feminists, were they physical beings, was it an illusion or projection of being physical beings? How can I understand any of this? she wondered.
“So, you are not really here and not really going anywhere?” she asked Aysa.
Aysa smiled, “Yes, that’s one way of putting it. Another way is to say that I am entirely here because I am not really going anywhere.”
Adediman laughed, “Oh, that doesn’t help either!” she nudged Aysa.
Aysa nudged her back, “I know it’s a paradox, the best one or O of all.”
Ayra stirred from the O and moved in the shadow and contrast. She was walking as she always does. Right away she sensed that it was a different realm as the lighting was in shadows. She felt forms were present, but they did not approach her. They watched and as they were attracted to her but were not trusting people, they held back approaching her. Ayra wondered if she had ever been there before. Had she come for someone? Did one of these shadowy beings call her? As she walked, she could make out some of the hidden shadowy being as her own light effulgence shone on them. She called out, “Come closer if you wish, I have something to show you, to give to you.” Finally, a shadow appeared and walked towards her.
She was surprised to see who it was and called out, “Monkey, Big Man!”
He approached her and kneeled at her feet. When he stood up, they were facing each other, and they gazed into each other’s eyes. Monkey Big Man poured his love into her vessel, and she received it and was delighted. This caused the realm of shadow to light up for several seconds and several of the hidden dwellers there scattered, except for one form. This shadow being stayed hidden but watchful.
Monkey Big Man spoke first, “As always, I give you my heart.”
Ayra replied, “As always, you are welcome, as you are my heart also. Why are we here?” she asked him.
“There is a bandit who wants to steal your magic and use it to denounce you and the already love and happiness that you are.”
Ayra laughed upon hearing this. “No shadow can steal its own light that has cast it in the first place.”
“Yes, but this shadow wants to eliminate your external form, to break the conduit to all those who are struggling to stand in their own true light as you are.”
Ayra called out, “I see you, your shadow is present with us. Come be revealed.”
Big Monkey Big Man stood on guard. He knew that Ayra’s true form could not ever be consumed or stolen by another, but Ayra’s body was fragile like any other mortal’s.
Ayra called out again, “Bandit—Bandit Queen come appear. Do not be afraid.”
This goaded the shadow, the bandit, to want to come forward. I will capture her and steal her treasure, she plotted. She moved towards Ayra’s form. She saw the Big Monkey grow larger in size. She knew he was protecting her. This frightened her but it might be her only chance to steal from Ayra what she so desired. She wanted the power to be more powerful than anyone, and she knew that to do that she had to steal the most powerful gift of all—the power to know one’s true self. To be the most powerful she had to keep everyone in the shadows—for them to doubt their own light—for them to not know their own heart. She was close now to the woman that if she could rob her of her power, she would have the power over all beings—the shadow would lead the light. As silly as this idea was, as desperate as she was to secure the light for her own vain fearful purpose, she believed in it with all her might and that gave it a force that she enjoyed and that made her very cocky.
Ayra and Big Monkey Big Man knew that the shadows form’s intentions were desperate.
Arya called out, “Come closer, let me see your beauty.”
Big Monkey Big Man didn’t want to step aside, he was well aware that this being held only dark intentions. Ayra motioned to him to let her approach.
“Tell me, who are you?” Ayra asked.
She started out very cocky, “I am who I say I am! I am here to take whatever I want!”
She looked at Ayra and then at Big Monkey. He stared her down.
“And how are you going to do that?” asked Ayra, “I give everything of myself freely. I will freely give you whatever you want.”
The bandit stopped in her tracks. She didn’t know how to reply to Ayra’s offer. But she got even more cocky and replied, “I want you to be afraid so I can take from you what you possess and what you don’t want to give.”
Ayra laughed, “What is there to be afraid of? I don’t possess anything that you can steal.”
“You think so?” asked the bandit, “I could kill your sleeping form and you will not wake up into that form ever again.”
“Why would you do that?” asked Ayra.
“To stop you from giving your goddamn gift to everyone!”
Big Monkey Big Man shot a glance at Ayra. He was ready to stop the Bandit Queen. Why with one well intended glance he could send her back to the darkest shadows that she seemed to enjoy so much. Ayra shook her head no.
“My gift is always being given. Have you not felt it?” Arya asked.
The Bandit Queen was becoming more agitated and frustrated with Ayra. Why couldn’t she make this woman afraid of her?
“Would you like to come with me, to the world my body inhabits?” asked Arya.
The bandit was stunned at Ayra’s offer. “Why would I go there except to steal or kill your body?”
“Come and see for yourself. This place you are living in only knows the shadows. Come with me and I will show you a place of contrast, of both shadow and light, a place where both are in play,” Array offered, “Are you afraid of such a place?” Arya asked.
The bandit replied, “I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid of anything or anyplace,” she added.
“Then come with me, see for yourself, make your own choice, see for yourself the relationship between the shadow and light. The place I live is a wonderful lesson place to understand contrast.”
The Bandit Queen knew that her plan of intimidation would not work on Ayra. She could not steal her power to stop the gift of her light, of her already happy. The depth of her understanding herself as light, as already happy, was not a belief or even an idea whose time had come. It was her true knowledge. The Bandit Queen believed in herself and that made her cocky, but her belief lacked the power and depth of Ayra’s knowledge of her True Self. The Bandit Queen felt like a fool, what’s the point of trying to steal what Ayra is so willing to give? She asked herself. Maybe, girl, she told herself, the place of contrast might show me something.
“Well, all right then, I’ll go with you to your place. I want to check out the contrast thing. What will I do there, I don’t know anybody there?” she asked.
“Oh, Ayra smiled, “You can hang out with the feminists from outer space, they’ll show you around. They’ve seen a lot of contrast in their work. You’ll like them, they’ve got a lot of spunk, like you,” and she added, “very cocky too.”
Big Monkey shook his head back and forth in delight. Ayra woke up out of her dream of the shadow place. The feminists were relieved and gathered around her. “One more for dinner. A new recruit, a little rough around the edges, but you’ll find her to be very determined.”
All the feminists turned. The Bandit Queen was nervous. She had never seen so many women standing out of the shadow before. They welcomed her. She didn’t feel possessed, she felt to be a part of them. She stepped forward.
Big Monkey, his work being done, left the shadow realm. He was ready to return to the land of contrast where he had served and lived for hundreds, if not thousands of years. He would follow Ayra’s return but it was not meant to be. He was being pulled and drawn into another realm. He immediately recognized it as his home. All those who knew and loved him were there to greet him. He received a hero’s welcome. His heart was bursting with happiness and the recognition he was given made him sing and swing from the tallest branches. When he landed, there was someone very special waiting for him. It was He that always dwelled in his heart. It was He that has asked him to stay behind on Earth, to stay apart from his home place. It was He that he obeyed, and his obedience and service on Earth was the will that he served with complete devotion. “Master,” Big Monkey called out. The master opened his arms and Big Monkey was enveloped by the arms of the Big Man. Both hugged and hugged and laughed and laughed. “Welcome home, dear one,” the Master said as he caressed his devotee, “Your work is finished, well done!” Big Man the Master exclaimed.
“What has happened, Master?” asked Big Monkey.
“She has opened the door. Everyone is receiving Her Heart conviction.”
Big Monkey reflected, “Yes, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Is this the time that has always been yearned for?” asked Big Monkey.
The Master affirmed it, “This is the time on Earth when everyone stands in their heart and meets the one living true master, the one living true heart.” The Master opened his chest and showed Big Monkey the face of the One True Master.
Big Monkey gasped, “The face of Ayra!” he exclaimed.
The Master nodded, “Each one will self-recognize Her as their very self, as their very own heart! Our work has concluded, now she Is and She will play.” Big Monkey grinned; he was so happy to be home. His heart was full, his being was light.
“Come and sit by me side,” his master urged him, “Together, forever, we will watch her play of already happy, spread to all beings.” Big Monkey sat by his Master’s side, contented to be with the One whom he had served, and together they witnessed the one true story of Her Play unfold.
The feminists who could pass from the outer realms to the inner realms and worked hard, played hard and were exemplary warriors and devotees of the Heart of She Is, stayed with Ayra. There was always much work to do, but now the work didn’t struggle with cruel polarizations of right and wrong, oppression and depression, of those whose hearts were dry and hard, with callous judgements from those puffed up with power. There was play and joy in their work as the feminine led the way for the heart to be lived. As the women led the people into the power and liberating wisdom of heart play, the people grew beyond their need to idealize their beliefs and to make laws and religion out of these beliefs. No one knew how to live in such a free-from-ideas-in-place state, but they were learning how to be in love with themselves. Everyone forgave each other and themselves when mistakes were made and in a free state of learning, many mistakes will happen, and the people will learn from them and continue to grow in a life of heart expression and fun. No one was possessed as a sign of love. Everyone knew their own heart as the great lover, as already She Is. What a time to be alive. From the dark, the light shone, and everyone came out to greet the dawn, the new day. Their hearts were fierce and shone bright. They had always been certain that this day would arrive. They had served well and worked hard to dream the impossible—a dream beyond all limits, all ideas. Theirs was the dream that She would arrive from the deepest realm, the realm of the Light, the Light that would shine the brightest and reveal to everyone their very own heart. Yes, the feminists are great visionaries with great conviction, and they all deserve the hero’s welcome. I applaud you and love you always, my dear feminists, my heart is yours, love Ayra.
Santosha Tantra January 2024
