You don’t know me. But i disagreed, at least a little; i had some idea of what she might be like, but it was true that I could have constantly been talking to different Ursulas, and, in that sense, never really gotten to know just one. So who was this? Had I ever directly spoken to her before? And what did she expect? Why was she saying this? A general characteristic of my Ursula seems to be that she, at times, can be a little insecure. Which is fine—I have no problem with that; indeed, I must, at least in the next life, if not this life, find it attractive. I know, however, that while we could be a little insecure in the next life, it is a perfect life, so we couldn’t ever be too insecure. Then we would be unhappy, and the defining characteristic of the next life is that nobody is unhappy. Even the shades that don’t really exist, that feed on bad, are happy, because they are going to that which completes them, and they are doing, already, that which makes the people around them happy. Does that mean these people are bad? No, it doesn’t have, too. They might be a little oblivious to something, but, in fact, they treat others with respect, and they are treated with respect. There is no unhappiness in heaven.
That’s better. Thanks for saying that. I wanted to understand her, of course. Both in this life and the next, and, while we are always changing a little, and understanding someone is an ongoing process, I believe that we can get to know someone well enough that we have a general understanding of what makes them tick. We truly can understand each other, and get closer and closer to each other. Now I’m here, and I want to be more. I wondered, then, what she wanted to do—to become. I no longer believed that the best souls—and the best minds—had to be creative. Being good was about channeling all your energy into the channels that worked for you—you might be a politician, a priest, or simply a partner, and create nothing. Your energy would be conserved, never wasted, always going into whatever it was that you did to pass the time. That could just mean spending time with family and friends, enjoying your meals, reading, watching TV, or simply having a conversation with someone. The point is that you never overdo it, and you never underdo it. You always invest just the right amount of energy—the energy that defines you, that makes you who you are.
Someone that does just that can find themselves equally important as someone else—they can become known simply for being good—for being so good at being themselves. Now you have me where you want me. Take your best shot. Yeah, i did have her where I wanted her—she’d come to depend on me; i made her feel better about herself, and, because of that, she was invested in the things that i liked to do. I was reassured by her sense of humor—really she wasn’t doing things just because i liked to do them; she was doing things because she liked to do them, too. She appreciated the action itself, not just my company. In this way, I was encouraged to do whatever i wanted, and see how much, in fact, we had in common, and what, also, I could do when I wanted to spend time apart. That was important, too; if we never spent any time apart, we would run out of things to talk about. Thus, in heaven, too, it is essential to do things that do not directly involve your partner.
I want to be with you, and you alone. That was great, because I wanted the same thing—to get as close as possible, so close that we might find ourselves unable to imagine ever being with someone else again. Now, in the back of my mind, I knew how important it was for me to be in love, to have that feeling of never wanting to be with anyone else all the time, and, because of that, in the back of my mind, I always considered the possibility that I would feel that way again, for someone else, if, that is, things changed. But there was no reason, when you had that feeling, for things to change, so I didn’t waste my time thinking about it. Instead I did what I always meant to do—love someone so deeply that, in fact, you do not imagine yourself ever being with someone else. You can have me, any way you want. Now she was just being a tease. Except really she wasn’t. This wasn’t just my fantasy—this was Ursula, and this was 5D, and this was what I wanted. That made me happy, and, suffice it to say, the fact that she felt that way meant that she was very happy, too.
But don’t hold anything back. Now she was being a little more realistic. I did, from time to time, tend to hold things back—i was like that because, in my experience, doing the opposite was worse. But I knew what she meant. She didn’t want me to overshare—she wanted me to share just the right amount, without overcompensating, and living under the assumption that she wouldn’t love me as much as I loved her. She wanted me to make her and my work equally important—such that i wouldn’t try to hide behind my creative endeavors in any way whatsoever. That i would find the confidence to be the person that I am when I create, with her, and, also, to be the person that I am when I am with her, when I create. Or do anything—since, I imagine, there may come periods in my 5D life in which I am not driven to create, in which, just being me, and living my life, is entirely sufficient. Indeed, I might become equally known for doing nothing, for internalizing my energy, and using it to secure more power over space and time—the background, and my relationship with it, and, also, my physical body, and my relationship with it. This might not necessarily be possible if I didn’t, at some point, choose not to create. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be possible—I’m just saying there is a lot more to life than constantly creating things for people, especially when working under the assumption that people might need those creations more than they actually do.
So I felt that, today, i had a good connection with Ursula. Our conversation had evolved from one thing into another, which felt like progress. Now, not every conversation can be like a play, with an arc, which is fine. I look forward to every conversation. Indeed, if every conversation had to have an arc, we might find that we were talking in circles—thinking we were accomplishing something only to find ourselves rehashing the same concerns. That’s what happens in 4D, when you’re not right for each other: you fight because you get bored, and you want to have a conversation, but there is nothing to talk about, so you create problems in order to talk through them. You trick yourself, for a while, into thinking that you’re accomplishing something—that you’re not, in fact, as miserable as you really are, choosing to be with someone that you cannot find a working balance with, someone that provokes you, instead of responding to their share of the emotional momentum that comes with any relationship, no matter how perfect, in an imperfect world—a world that we should seek to improve.