This week I taught the last course for the beta version of the School of Records, the course I am building to guide people through reading their own Akashic Records.
The theme of that night, unbeknownst to me prior to pushing Start on the Zoom call, was me sharing with the students how much I don’t know. Their questions permeated our shared space with a sense of wonderment I often feel in my own practice with the Records. I felt a sense of camaraderie as they questioned their practice; questions I’m still asking today as an experienced Records reader.
So I was transparent in that as the teacher/instructor/mentor of the class, I don’t actually know for sure what we are doing or what we are accessing when we enter the Akashic Records.
I can speak to what I THINK we are doing based on years of data collection and experimentation through doing Akashic Records readings for people and entering the Records for myself. I can speak to the science I’ve studied and research that I’ve done. But in truth, I don’t know the truth.
And I don’t think I’m supposed to.
There is entirely too much rich practice in being with the unknown of it all. Building a relationship to the unknown is, in my estimation, one of the most prolific practices in being human.
Ironically enough, it was affirmed in going through the course for all of the students how much they already know. That it is doubt or a lack of trust in themselves that had them believing otherwise. And that being in the mystical ambiguity of the Akashic Records was enough of a mirror to show them that whatever we were doing or accessing in the Records they’ve actually been doing and accessing all along, elsewhere in their lives, for a significant period of time. Years, if not longer. Perhaps since they were born.
There is so much we don’t know, or have been led to believe we don’t know, and aren’t supposed to know. But in letting ourselves be with that unknown, we realize how full of knowing we actually are.
There is so much. There is so much.
I once saw Neil Degrasse Tyson when he was touring the country and he said something that was borrowed from Albert Einstein that I think about almost daily. He said that as the area of knowledge increases, so too does the perimeter of ignorance.
We will never not be questioning. The possibility of knowing is infinite. We can’t possibly know everything there is to know in the multidimensionality of our beingness, especially in an ever-expanding Universe.
Having an infinitely expanding base of knowledge with an equally expanding perimeter of ignorance requires a trust we may spend our whole lives cultivating. A trust in ourselves. In our ability to intuit. In our capability of holding multiple truths all at once. In our ability to navigate what life presents us. In our willingness to believe our own selves and what it is that we are feeling, sensing, and experiencing as true to who we are, in alignment with our hearts.
To put one foot in front of the other, and just do that enough times.
In this spectrum of knowing and not knowing, I’ve found my own pattern to be that of latching on to either all or nothing. Often when life presents me with an unexpected experience and I am thrust into the unknown, I allow it to completely knock me off my axis. I immediately go into fight or flight and allow the worst case scenario to become the story before it’s even happened. My emotional state of being responds and I sometimes over react. I suddenly feel ungrounded, and unsafe. It feels like life or death.
Lately I’ve been presented with relationship and money scenarios and, thanks to a dear friend being a mirror for me, I’m seeing how there is a through-line between these two things. My relationship to people is similar to my relationship to money. Often it’s all or nothing. You either love me or you don’t. I’m either a billionaire or I’m nothing. I either abandon myself to get love or I remain centered in myself and am alone. Either my wants, needs, and desires matter or they don’t.
My friend pointed out to me that once again I’m living in a black or white paradigm. That I’m allowing the reflective mirrors that life offers me in the form of growth opportunities I wasn’t expecting and expansive experiences that feel hard to be paralyzing to me, catapulting me into victimhood, when really they’re staircases of experience. Spiraling deeper and deeper into my heart, often passing by the same issues but with a new perspective, as a newer version of myself, softening me into what is actually true.
These windows into my being that show me where I’m being resistant, where I am not allowing my needs to matter, where I am lacking trust - they are not punishment. They’re opportunities to shift, to open to new possibility and ways of being. To get off of the spectrum of this or that, black or white, and live more in the grey. To live in the marble.
I am in a season of life where I am being challenged from every angle to open to the vastness of possibility. To open to the unknown, and build an intimacy with it as if it were my lover. To sit in the presence of trust. To fill that presence up with my self, and realize how abundantly resourced I am to navigate the spiral staircase of experience. To remember that everything truly is happening for me. And admittedly, the more I sink into the marble the more I come in to an inner union that feels safe, secure, and full of knowing.
It is weirdly paradoxical.
So, even though we aren’t supposed to always know where we’re going or what’s to come, there is an accessible knowing that exists in us at all times if we grow our capacity to notice it. To hold ourselves in the presence of patience and trust. To cultivate a relationship to the very space that life has us. And to remain open to the next step on the staircase of experience.
Tallyho,
Jenny