13th July – Journal Reflection
The Guardrail, the Painting, and the Promise
Today felt like waiting.
Not out of laziness — but that quiet pause before the next burst. I’ve come to trust those waves. They’re what brought the course to life in the first place. Now, I’m just tending the threads — a few things here and there. Updating the website, aligning the language so people can actually find us. I rewrote the front page text. It’s now more SEO-optimized, more resonant — fine-tuning the frequency so the right souls can hear it.
I also updated the the first chapter with a more truthful intro. Something about it lands deeper now.
Then I heard that Pen’s friend — the one with the AI technology — watched the video. He’s happy to meet on a call next week. That feels aligned.
I also spoke to a friend I used to work with in Dubai. Turns out I might need to go back there for two weeks to handle my UAE visa process. It’s expensive, but it is what it is. I might need to leave here within a month — go to Dubai, then onward to South Africa. All of it feels connected, even if uncertain. The New Earth is moving through all of it.
Later, I went to the temple again. And something struck me deeply.
I saw a depiction of Prince Siddhartha — or “Artha”, whose name means “every wish fulfilled.” He was the son of King Sudhana and Queen Maya. That name — Maya — pierced through. It hit me in a way I can’t explain. Maya being the main person in our book we are editing.
There he stood, declaring:
“Above and below heaven, I am revered. The triple world is filled with suffering. I shall relieve it all.”
I felt those words in my own bones.
This work — bringing truth, co-creating the New Earth — is not just service. It’s legacy. It’s remembrance. It’s vow.
Then, in a little shop near the temple, I saw it: a multi-coloured Buddha painting. It looked just like the little statue I had in Dubai years ago. That statue sat beside me as I built the earlier stages of this work. And now here it was again — transformed into a canvas. A reflection, evolved. I’ll hang it where I sit to write, to edit, to listen.
I picked it up with the help of my landlord, and we ended up talking — about donation, about pressure, about the importance of this work. Sometimes I feel squeezed. He’s the one expecting the money. He got it, the pressure, this work. This work requires everything. And I trust… the rest will come. Divine timing.
Later, I spoke to Pen. We had a clear conversation about integrity — especially around the book and the spiritual agreements tied to it. She shared something powerful: a few days ago, she was at a concert pressed up against the guardrail, and it made her reflect.
That image stayed with me.
At first, I wondered — who’s the guardrail protecting? Who’s on which side?
By the end of the conversation, it became clear.
We’re on the stage.
The guardrail is for us.
It’s there to ensure the light isn’t consumed by the dark.
It’s not a limitation. It’s a boundary of protection. A sacred agreement. A way to honour what’s moving through.
And finally, this realisation settled:
Maya isn’t a person. Maya is everything. Maya is illusion itself.
And seeing through it… is part of the work.
Where am I today?
Tired.
But trusting.
What do I choose to let go of?
The illusion of pressure.
The story that says I have to hold it all.
It’s being held.
