For every single rainstorm, there's an edge. The point where there is no rain, but if you step in, there IS. And it's like this all around the edges of the storm. So why do we so rarely experience the edge? Why is it all or nothing? Either raining, or not?

Well the answer, beloved, is appearances. The rain appears to be over there, on the horizon, away from you, until the very moment that it's not. At that moment, there IS rain, and it IS falling on and around you, your home, your loved ones.

When you're human, it's very difficult to see the edge of the rain. Humans have a strange need to know everything and to determine everything and they can rarely see the edge because the edge requires careful discrimination. It seems impossible to be standing feed away from falling rain and yet not be IN the rain. It stands in direct opposition to your better senses, and this often confuses you. You like it to be all or nothing. You have forgotten the in-between, the almost, the necessary choice point where you can ALWAYS move back or forth, right or left, up or down, to serve you. You've forgotten your power. So you see rain over there, and it scares you. You fear it coming. And you see it here, and you sit in it and feel stuck. And there's very little in-between. You kind of like the idea of Armageddon, frankly. And what's not to love about cataclysmic peril? You choose it so often--you must.

What we are saying, is maybe spend more time examining the edges. Wait for the edge. Watch for it. Be in anticipation. Because the edge can make all the difference, and yet you have already let so many pass you by.

You are so dearly loved. We love you.

--Your Council of Love.