The other day I realized that my life already belongs to RV. It’s not really even a question. It’s not something that still needs to be decided. That’s been the way it is since the instant I heard of it. It was mine. I was there, it was here, and the whole process was just a matter of the details from then on.
I’ve taken breaks, mostly from the “online field” that I’ve let drive me crazy — something which recently I think I kind of moved past fortunately, finally — and I’ve been chronically time-limited and sleep-deprived pretty much the entire period I’ve been involved with RV, so I’ve sucked at viewing anything even when I tried, and sucked at trying consistently anyway.
Even a little consistency kicks up my results, and the moment they start getting interesting I have quit viewing. Repeatedly. It’s been a 12-year cycle.
Thursday night I made a radical change in myself.
I made a committment. Or rather, I accepted the one I already made.
I’ve always been committed to Remote Viewing in general. But often I’ve felt that my own viewing literally was in competition with my “accomplishing something constructive with larger results,” and that has changed. Changed a lot. That night, I made a commitment to myself. To my own viewing.
I’m amazing, you know. It’s just a matter of time until I can prove it. 😉
I wrote in the Firedocs RV blog that night, in the post “I AM a Universal Translator”:
I want to share perception with the other.
I know my path now. And Remote Viewing isn’t actually the end goal, funny enough. RV is a bridge to something so much bigger, to the conscious interaction with self, with the very nature of reality, that it’s indescribable. I’m sure the rest of my life won’t be enough to work all that out, though I feel my archetype and aspect RV are a start for me. For now, RV is my doorway, and it is my road.
I’ve always been on it. I just didn’t get my act together to be aware enough until now; to take responsibility for where I am… and where I need to be.
I’m not here by accident. It’s not that I’ve been wandering. I’ve always been on the road, but I’ve been so busy worrying about whether the road was well-paved for others that I’ve completely neglected my own focus.
That is changing now. People can walk that road or they can fall off the highway or never find it to begin with, and it is not going to be my concern anymore. I’ll document my own journey as well as I can, as my breadcrumbs on the trail. But the journey is mine and it’s long overdue.