And the way I didn't go. That you will gain anything from reading my words is not within my expectation to guarantee. I do not have the heartwarming tones of picturesque landscapes to lead you through, not the comfort of a yarn-wrapped village home, not the consciousness developing exhilaration of tromping foreign soil, not the silken embrace of past authors to lend me the education of their prose. I have the island volcano of my life, the hermitage of a socially avoidant housewife on a spiritual odyssey, the pithy toolkit of one who speaks largely with Themselves, the weariness of a pretend human who has accepted the limitations of their acting skills. I love to draw pictures with words yet cycle through an un-captivating rolodex of potential subjects, over-thinking their relevance, settling on none. This is largely due to an innate knowing that the subjects are not mine, they are a collection of things I have seen people talk about, what I have gleaned to be supposedly important to anyone in this world trained to expect to live successfully, happily; entertained and entertaining. So my fingers have been let loose on the keyboard to pick their own topic, one I usually reject as being too me-specific to be of use to anyone else. But if I don’t tell my own story, why am I here? If pressed to sum up the course of my life I would say that I have sought to not play the game. I took the route away from social expectation, away from achievement, away from material gain, the acquisition of useful facts, the standardised behaviours of assigned roles, conformity to what Julian Summerhayes calls the ‘dominant narrative’. I finished high school as tied Dux of the year; spent a year abroad (both beautiful and torturous) ; went to secretarial college (I could not settle on a University degree, limited as the courses were in our town and an expensive undertaking; being quickly employable was the greater need) and finished that year as Dux of the college. I was scooped up by a local Accounting firm, hated every other moment of it (a conservative estimate of my dislike) , did not get the promised support to attend Uni (as I became pregnant, having married just after getting that Dux - far too damn early and something I recommend to no-one, especially my children) and was sidelined. Pregnant employees didn’t get much favour in a firm where all partners and accountants were men, and all secretarial/typing pool staff were women. I left to have the baby (an extremely difficult labour, birth and post partum experience) and resigned. Life from then onward was the Household Story; the rollercoaster of relationships, child raising, divorce, single-parenthood, budgeting to squeeze rent, food and other necessities from an extremely limited income, tussling over broken emotions and child maintenance payments. Then remarrying, more relationship training, more budgeting, more child raising, more solo-parenting (military spouses can deploy for extended periods) . Amongst it all was the affliction of believing that I was supposed to be doing more, being more, achieving more, learning more, exercising more, surviving better, achieving excellence as I did in school and living up to all that potential now subsumed by the busy-ness of laundry, child-caring, school runs, lawnmowing, cleaning bathrooms, floors and toilets, meal prep, doing all I could to improve the health of a chronically ill child, being the socially avoidant mother who made herself host birthday parties and play all the expected roles of a contributing member of society. For almost a decade of this I powered through with insomnia, getting little more than 4 hours of broken sleep per day. I rushed into life because that was the expected pathway and each day Life found unpredictable ways to kick my arse. Then in 2009 my world became strange. Through all my days I have been spiritually switched on. The knowing that there exists a realm of beings and an ethereal experience beyond the human physical has been with me always. I note it most from the age of 4-5 years. I thought the Christian god was who I was looking for and became ensconced in that belief pathway for longer than was spiritually healthy. The fascination took me all through my teens and into my 30’s. Hindsight says that the anchoring of a book which people more educated than I affirmed to be a true account of an all-powerful being who apparently would move heaven and earth to assist me was what helped me get through those years of struggling to play my roles. Many may think these roles are nothing to be struggling over, but my hindsight also says that it is firmly within the realm of possibility that I am undiagnosed neuro-divergent. Masking for decades to ‘be normal’, to regulate your nervous system, successfully communicate whilst your environment keeps changing around you in dramatic ways, being the anchor for a household reliant on you being able to get all the tasks done, will mess you up. It takes a large toll on the nervous and autoimmune systems. I never sought medical or psychological aid, that’s a part of the anxiety dysfunction and probably my nature. I thought I was doing just fine, soldiering on like a ‘good girl’. Then in 2009 the Spiritual Presence which I had been searching for, and actively inviting to come find me over the previous 30+ years, did exactly that. This is where my story may tromp too happily into the realm of ‘woo-woo’ for some of you. Now would be a good exit point if you are such a one whose ‘good sense’ is the dominant captain of your perception filters. This Presence came in a dense cloud - not a quiet inner whisper to tickle the conscience. Subtle encouragement is what It had been doing for years until time ran out for that approach. Living on the crust of a large squishy ball speeding through the cosmos brought me to the pre-designated point of our meeting and our spheres collided. It laid me flat and It had a lot to impart. But I rush to say that this was not a consciousness separate from me, a distant ruling god or any such entity. It was Me. What I had been calling for all these decades was that larger conglomerate of my own Being, my own conscious intelligence, the ‘higher self’ (not in a way so many have now made into a pseudo-spiritual term for trendy weekend retreats) . Is it ‘higher’? Only in terms of higher states of coherence, but it is not something physically above in the untouchable heavens. More like being farther off in larger geometries of the patterns of reality ‘beyond’ or ‘outside’ of this one (which could be considered a small simple shape nestled like the infant of a matryoshka doll within Great Great Grandparents of Conscious thought shaping all we sense) . In that year, beyond any sense of uncertainty, my life departed the route of normal Western culture expectation, taking a trajectory I doubt too many bother to go searching for. If by accident they do find it, they pass quickly on by lest they be pulled into strange waters and called ‘woo-woo’ by well-meaning but spiritually inexperienced minds (which themselves do not wish to risk the loss of their reputation for being sensible and scientifically supported in their conclusions about immeasurable qualities of reality) . Now seems like a suitable moment to share that a connection with the Larger Self is not a bliss experience. The bliss or Nirvana state (as used in Western conversation) , where suffering and ego is supposedly extinguished, is a nicely distracting plateau, a medication for the suffering mind. Journeying past the trials of the ego, dis-associatively accepting suffering, feeling a blissful state of non-attachment to the idea of separation and duality appears to have become the life apogee of many a seeker. ‘Being in Bliss’ is taken to indicate that you have reached some ultimate enlightenment point, which must therefore mean you have found that thing called ‘oneness’ or a state of unity with the cosmos. That has not been my experience. If you experience a bliss state yet don’t come out the other side to have an understanding of the place of bliss within the cosmic organism, I feel that you still have some ways to swim. That ‘bliss’ can be a motivator, it shouldn’t be a final destination. The greater a person’s burgeoning awareness of All That Is, the higher the likelihood that they will feel the crushing weight of a world in suffering. Bliss will not be able to medicate an aware mind out of that, nor should the one who wants to encapsulate the metamorphosis of an entire plane of consciousness try to be so distracted from the tumultuous waves of that change. If you are connecting with high minded portions of yourself from other geometries of the creation, it may become apparent that they don’t hang around in ‘blissouts’ - not if they are actively engaged in the process of changing paradigms within a plane of reality, or a system of connected planes. I will add that they don’t use English as a first language either. If your Grandparent Self has started talking to you, you will have to spend a considerable portion of your years learning to interpret ideographic shorthand into something maybe a little more relevant to your human life - but it may still not ever be that relevant. It will, however, be transformative. As a note to the reader - yes I did eventually make use of the services of a Clinical Psychologist. Her name was Shelley, she was very friendly. She spent my money telling me about Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, which was nothing new to me. What I gained from her was an assurance that I am not experiencing psychosis and an encouragement to not use alcohol as a coping mechanism - a sound request which I took onboard. Well then, so fun that you made it to this sentence. Thinking briefly enough on my past life with enough depth to write some coherently vague description of it triggered more anxiety/trauma response than I would have anticipated (especially as I had anticipated none). I am thinking now that this may be why I stare at that rolodex and don’t delve into my memory references deep enough to conjure things to write. So what is the way that I didn’t go? The way of normal, the way of good sense, the way with a recorded history and respected elders to direct the journey, the way of conforming to popular beliefs, the way which would have been something able to be talked about in general conversation. Feel free to drop a comment. I may be back with more of this experience chronicling. (Published previously on Substack )

Those cyclical meteorites of expression I will not be saying anything new by saying that my thoughts return like lumps of frigid rock on regular orbits - some long, some short. In the process of departing from ideas of what I should be doing with life, what I should have tried to achieve, what I should be pushing myself to attempt, what I should be trying to appear as, my thoughts settled into a solar system of silent slowly turning meteors which intersect at regular intervals with my slightly more active mind. They speak again then, to clutter up the periphery of my day with their unanswered questions and stubborn objections to how life has progressed. So what do today’s passing celestials say? Why did I leave the Workforce in 1995 and not ever find my way back into it? Why do I have an intellect which could have done many things but chose to do none of them? Why can I not figure out how to enter social interactions and stay there? Why does life feel like watching someone else’s story through a glass page? Why do I have an urge to write and nothing seems worth the energy investment to write about? Why has life been about survival and finding safety rather than enjoying an adventure? These are all me-centric, and why not? I stopped attempting to insert myself into the ‘solve the world’s crises’ questions, my body ran out of adrenalin for that. I don’t think I need the questions identified, they are all past-oriented, all hourglass shaped pins in expired moments and closed life trajectories. I’ve pulled up the strings and yet here they are, still orbiting, not yet slowed and absorbed by the gravity well of my larger self nor set loose to shoot off into less distracting lines of receding frequency. So my next question is what keeps them as a record to remind at scheduled rendezvous that I might have missed something, and that the missing is causing me some kind of life failure or misfiring. I don’t believe that I could be anywhere but where I am and that place is not so bad. Why is it inappropriate that I became a ‘home person’, putting all of my attention into caring for children, spouse and house? My husband is military and we once calculated that with deployments and training he was away from the home for more than 8 years of the past 24 (when the children were youngest). All that time I parented and managed the house on my own, in near isolation - no co-workers to help with tasks. It exhausted me. Some people can pull that magic off whilst holding down a career, all power to them, I was not one of them - and beat myself up over it. It is highly likely that I am undiagnosed neuro-divergent, socially avoidant, prone to anxiety over things others don’t think much on at all. Why am I writing this out? Because I want to eject this particular pod of irrelevant ‘whys’. I don’t need them. I’ve done my absolute best. So what if I didn’t also hold down a paying job, get a degree, earn a slew of awards and have well-known people recommending my work to their peers? I haven’t made much money but I’ve saved 100’s of 1000’s of dollars in child care, cleaning, counselling and management bills. The rub for me is that the energy expended in all this caring, raising and maintaining (combined with the outflow of years of solid stress over a situation or two not mentioned) appears to have been the majority of that lifeforce allotted me on a daily and yearly basis. I’ve got nothing left in the tank for anything more than knitting, crochet, the occasional potting of a plant, sporadic poetry, and spurts of verbosity on blogging platforms. Why do folk such as myself expect so much of ourselves over our entire lives and keep on expecting from ourselves even after our mind and body has crumpled in a corner, arms over head, wailing ”no more”!? It takes years to come back from the break moment which we often do not acknowledge as reasonably earned. Even amongst all this expectation we take on the pressure to also be saving the planet from the choices of our predecessors and peers, and handing it unsullied to our children who already see the writing on the wall whilst not feeling equipped to tackle it either. What about you? Do you feel that life has been a dumping surf? A swamping tsunami of un-solidified goals which were not your original idea to begin with? Are you in the recovery phase, shuffling through the detox inflammation of decades of expectation, learning to not feel guilty that you have created a sedate life and are actually totally happy about that? Are you like me, having no plans for tomorrow, thinking that your most pressing task may be to make sure your worldly affairs are in order; that you have sorted your garage-stored boxes to make sure you don’t leave a mess for someone else to think about, that you’ve pre-paid your funeral, written your will, established financial power of attorney, and set up a shared document so your spouse has all your device and online passwords ‘in case’? During a wide-angle assessment of how I feel about life up to now, I realised that I may have been doing my very best to make sure the World didn’t notice that I am still here. And if it does, that it can’t prove that I am what it wants to think that I am. If you read to here and have some thoughts, I’d love to read them in the comments section. (Published previously on Substack )

The subscription plan for accessing content which serves as SpheresData support is available on the Plans & Pricing page for $12 AUD for a month. Eth'A Medicines content The Sound Symbol Medicine tracks: ​'Settling The Butterfly' 'Retiring the Bodhisattva' SpheresData Support Audio: ​'Accept Incoming Divinity' WindWeave Systems 9+: ​System 9 - Core Structures System 4.2 - TimeFlow Dynamics restructured The SpheresData audio - Accept Incoming Divinity - is a multi voice track recording. There are 5 voice tracks, a drums track (my own drum) and the backing ambient sound 'Aether Wind' by Sonic Medicine and used publicly with permission from Sonic Medicine (Source Vibrations). Like all my Eth'A (SpheresData) audio there is no rehearsal, all is spoken or sung in the flow of the moment, coming from non-local mind, there is no repeating, what comes comes.

Voice, Script and Art flowing through my Inner Landscape. Collating the Conglomerate of Self through Time Woven strands. A Cultivation of Spirit Spheres of Cohesive Consciousness SpheresData ~ The Flowers Fall Play Video The Flowers Fall Watch Now Share Whole Channel This Video Facebook Twitter Pinterest Tumblr Copy Link Link Copied Share Close I add SpheresData audio to a Telegram Channel for quick release into the Collective Mind Networks. To join use this invite link . Follow Me on Instagram @between.speak Buy me a ball of yarn via Paypal Sherri-Lee Jul 18 An Alternate Route Sherri-Lee Jul 16 Thought Orbits Sherri-Lee Mar 26 Nothing to Add

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Eth'A Medicines - Contents Page Eth'A Medicines content The Sound Symbol Medicine tracks : ​ 'Settling The Butterfly' 'Retiring the Bodhisattva' ​ Read on the intent of these recordings in the blog posts linked here . SpheresData Support Audio : ​ 'Accept Incoming Divinity' Technician Port Transmissions Audio : ​ 16 SpheresData Audio tracks released for Support of those acting as EndPoint technician Forms for their Family Groups. All WindWeave Systems: ​ Systems 1-8 System 9 - Core Structures System 4.2 - TimeFlow Dynamics restructured System 1.2 - Eth'A Relay Technology restructured Draghon Script pages: ​ Cohesive frequency of the Draghon Family Group I call as a part of my Family identity. These are statements of intention, provision, and alignment am ongst repr esentatives of this Family Group. I include them in the Eth'A Medicines pouch of tonics because, even though I do not know the details of what is written, I feel the strength and stabilizing patterns in them. SFA 1 Support Image: ​ Image created for the support of Data transfer between my Spheres and those receiving Damage Support from my System. The Eth'A Medicines Content is now also hosted on a Telegram Channel. After purchase of subscription I will send a time limited invite link to join that Channel. At the end of the subscription period I will manually remove subscriber access. The website content will remain for now. Subscribe to Use