Centuries of planetary exploitation and threats of nuclear annihilation had raised the pain of humanity to a cry heard across the Milky Way. On a faraway planet orbiting a giant red sun, a group of alien beings heard the cry and toiled to help the planet Earth.
* * *
I am a member of a fifth density group on a big blue planet near the Galactic Center. We were at the Gathering Place where we had just completed several hours of lightwork. I turned to gaze at my companion, Oman.
“There must be more we can do, brother,” I thought projected. “The sorrow of humanity deepens. It hurts my heart and weighs heavy in my thoughts.” It was our regular service in which we join minds to stream love and light across the stars to the third density beings on Earth.
He shifted his body on the ground to face me. “We knew the struggle to choose polarity would increase human collective trauma. It is the way with most third density planets when they transcend into the higher fourth density vibration. Come, let us partake, I haven’t eaten since the last gathering.”
Bowls of delicous golden ambrosia were passed around from the crystal cauldron. I was hungry too. It was our only form of sustenance, exactly what was needed to replenish our physical forms. As I swallowed and filled my gut, others stirred around us. I could sense the murmuring of private telepathic exchanges as they sipped the nectar. I contemplated the sad vibration until I finished my meal.
“Walk with me, brother.” Oman had stood, and reaching his big blue hand over patted my shoulder.
I passed my bowl and stood too. Humans would never accept us, being twice their average height, with stout limbs and a thick head. Yet we were of a finer substance than flesh and bone, and very light on our feet. We set a rhythmic stride and moved away from the gathering.
“I feel we are streaming a mere point of light into the growing darkness,” I made no effot to hide the disquiet in my mind from Oman, but I carefully secluded it from others.
“Our light is bright, and there are humans who are illuminated. The Law of Squares is powerful in our group.” Oman knew that the near-perfect harmony of our group created a transmission much greater than the sum of our two-hundred-plus members. The power was equal to the square of that number.
“I’m not feeling it as a powerful illumination, but as a futile gesture. The vibration of human suffering has strengthened despite all of our efforts. Don’t you feel it?” I flung my arms toward the copper-colored sky to dramatize. We were well away from the others and I no longer needed to hide the feelings that made me so different from the others.
“If our work inspires only one human to choose the path of service to others, I have accomplished my mission.” Then Oman stopped, turned toward me, and stretched his arms wide. “Brother, we have likely done better, can’t you know this?” It was well for him to say that. Perhaps the most evolved of our sub-group of two hundred Centrics, he was very close to becoming an Elder.
“I understand we have had some successes, but it isn’t enough,” I projected from my disquiet mind. “There must be a better way.” I had believed that I was close to becoming an Elder too, but I could see now that I was starting to suffer like those who needed help.
Oman became concerned that the harmony of our group was about to be decreased by one, which would erode the Law of Squares and weaken our transmission. He mind-melded with me and reviewed our other form of service: the design and transmission of devices that could reduce the need for menial human labor. Things like electrical generators, mechanical gadgets, and computer components.
“Remember how the Elders named me, after we transmitted my design that became the O-ring?” Oman held his thumbs and forefingers together to make a perfect circle, and took a quick leap off the ground as if to congratulate himself. The sight made a surge of bubbly energy pulse through my body and I felt my face break into a toothless grin. We had no need for names; getting named was the human equivalent of earning a merit badge or wearing an adornment. I put my hand up to my face and pushed the grin back down.
“Yes, and recall the Elder who said the O-ring was too simple to help on Earth?” I projected. “After it was patented by a human it catalyzed the Industrial Revolution on Earth, and the same Elder said simplicity has merit.” I had to contain my laugh bubbles. I loved the Elders with their profound wisdom and was amused by the rare occasion when one slipped up. Then I remembered I had taken years to design a high-speed transportation system that had not been approved for transmission to Earth. The laugh bubbles coalesced into a dark shadow that made my feet heavy.
I compressed my thoughts away from Oman and we walked on in silence. What was wrong with me? I had to get my mind re-aligned with our group’s mission to help humanity. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help. I was desperate for it, I was aching to ease the cries of sorrow.
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