DECEMBER 23, 2020 AT 2:45 A.M.

I arrived at the City of Lights via usual route, landing in the Park. It is my favorite location in all I have visited over the years, both here or there. I was very focused on the work, and today was kids or elderly recovery night. I leave the adults to other recovery means.

I pulled the infinity bus from there to here (I do not know where there is, but it works, so I leave that matter alone). It is a beautiful bus, finished in a high luminescent glowing yellow, borrowed from the front design of the 1957 Chevy. It has enlarged chrome grill work and a few modern design modifications—a recessed headlight and inlaid brilliant red brake lights. I love the bus. It is great to know I can use it as is or go to a hyper-bus 2.0.

I took my time getting centered there. The pull of the Park’s visual and emotional appeal are strong distractions from the work in hand.

I checked the passport globe—still there—and the functionality and integrity of my energy field. I was not going to get caught unprepared anywhere in the Afterlife Zone. From its gray zone to its black zone, it is a huge containment trap for souls.

I asked for two Helpers to work directly with me, and seven backups for selection and loading. I was going in very prepared this time.

I explained the work tonight and did not expect or receive any problems. The two Helpers assisting me knew what was coming—a retrieval in the depths of the black zone.

I just shrugged (yes, shrugged) and stepped into the bus then smoothly phased to the Afterlife Zone. I was learning that the magnitude of intention tied to focus made moving simple. Think it—you are there.

I arrived and the bus rocked to a stop. I asked the Helpers to start the work, I saw them moving in through the retrievals that had become nicely queued up. As this work continued, my two Helpers stayed with me. No. 1 was, as usual, pointing the way (how does she know where to go?) through the black rings to the intended retrieval. She always has the retrieval target location in hand. No one has yet told me how that works. It must be still due to me being new at this work.

First things first—work on bringing in the kids. The bus doors opened, and the Helpers started pointing successful retrievals to the bus. A door monitor checked each one against the master list somewhere inside their heads. I am learning that knowing something like this comes with the territory. You cannot expect any symmetry or logic here. There is too much happening simultaneously to make sense of it (to me). Those who are here do okay with the system. I feel my main problem is my resistance to having multiple realities coexisting in the same space.

I walked out of the bus, determined to focus on the group and touch retrievals lightly, asking each if they wanted to go into the Light (or heaven, or paradise, whichever their preference was to call the City of Light). Reactions varied. Most said yes, I think just to leave that place. Not everyone was a new arrival. Some had been here for a very long time. Not all of the retrievals worked within the same belief systems or time points of reference.

Frankly, this makes no difference to me. My work is to retrieve souls ready to transition to the Park and Reception Area for rest, healing, and often to choose their next steps. We are all in the recycling can. This is out. There is no exit until we have completed the tasks assigned by our group Overself. I stopped fighting it. It is the same here as there—make the best choices you can and move on.

For the retrievals I use a gentle healing touch, soothing words, and an expression of love and healing learned during my Aunt’s recovery. The touching can be healing, and their color returns a bit and their attention focuses. Some do not respond. The Bright Star entity passed my work with a thumbs up. I use it and work to learn more.

I did not have much time to make a retrieval in the Black Zone. The infinity bus was loading quickly, and the guide’s voice prompted me to make a selection and move to the City of Lights. That was funny. How can this work move forward assisting one retrieval at a time?

Everyone who selected to move to the City of Lights was there and into the final loading. I doubt the voice moderator on the recording that was used to train people about this work ever encompassed multiple recoveries. I read in Bruce Moen’s book that multiple recoveries are ok, and are often needed in large disasters, though usually it is one at a time. This mess will never be cleared up one at a time. There are too many deaths and too few death transitions to the City of Lights, too many stopovers in Dreamland and the Afterlife Zone where we were.

At this point I have just stopped fighting the impulse to move into the black zone. I decided to make a special run. The bus could wait a bit.

I stepped out of the bus again and floated above the ground this time. It was like driving a hoverboard. Previously I had trudged through the black goop on the ground step by step. It seems the black goop is someone’s idea of a horror movie or a joke on retrievers.

As I approached the first inner ring wall, I passed through and moved on past the second and third one. No. 1—she still will not tell me her name—pointed the way as she pointed to the numbers on containment fields’ cages. As we passed, they luminesced then faded.

She found the correct number. I was getting uncomfortably close to the inner ring—where who knows what awaits—preferring not to raise any red flags. I am probably like a flea on a horse’s rear end—one slip and it’s game over. I do not even want to think about the consequences. They are all unknowns.

In a rush—although it’s never good to rush in here—I lifted the containment thought-form. Strangely, there was no screaming or objections or threats, just silence and a sense of wakefulness. The closer I get to the inner rings, the more awake the souls are.

His name was on the list and we had the correct number. I read he should have been released a very long time ago, but was not for some reason. What is happening here? Extended punishment and confinement. I looked down and was very startled to see the retrieval clearly for the first time. He was a Luciferian ally.

A white, luminescent form, a very mature spiritual being, his light intensity dimmed but not extinguished. He had been contained for 130-190,000 or more years. The time here was unclear. Time had no effect on his space. He saw today as yesterday and tomorrow. There was no layering of time sequencing. There was no bondage to time or a cycle of rebirths. I saw he had never incarnated as human—pure spirit. What was he doing here?

And he knew he would be released sometime/somewhen and was waiting. Awake and conscious, he knew how to park his multiple layers of consciousness outside his confinement—and at a glance, he was very aware of who I was, where I came from, and what I was doing.

He saw the passport globe, nodded, and there was no other communication. I was here to release him as authorized by a higher authority. Someone up there was shaking the cage of human and higher consciousness. It made no sense he would even be here. He was not a bad soul—frankly, a very good soul. I may say he was angelic in appearance and energy.

I touched his arm to gain his attention. No issues there. We were very ready to go. I grasped his hand and lifted up. He stood up, a bit shaky, then that quickly settled. I had a strong sense he could have left at any time but he seemed to feel the retrieval rules needed to be followed.

I returned to the bus in a short phase from here to where the bus would be. Nothing is linear here. Time is meaningless and everything curves and meets in strange ways.

He walked into the bus, and I then looked back to the rear. All seemed well. I still cannot look for long at the back of the bus. I could not see the rear seats, and the visual was a wavering, swirling image of light and darkness. It makes me slightly nauseous to see this, even when I am back here writing this journal.

I phased to the City of Lights.

My arrival was smooth with no outstanding events. I parked and we offloaded the kids and elderly to gentle, waiting souls. Everyone seemed to know everyone and what to do. The retrieval stepped off the bus and to no surprise was met by other luminescent beings. They left with all the others and the Park was quiet again. I felt like a bus driver today.

I asked No. 1 for the retrieval count and it was 15,390 recoveries young and old. I have stopped holding my beliefs as to what is real or not. If recovery was one soul, I am good with that. I see the people waiting for the transport bus from the Afterlife Zone. There always seems to be the right number—not too many and not too few. I am working on understanding this, which might mean I should just work on myself.