Awakening to Integration

The raw love story — the studies that lead to the polished portrait

Author’s Note: I wrote this amalgam of journaling, both organized prose and freeform, and rough drafts of essays, between March 19, 2020 and June 2, 2020. The events depicted are not the result of artistic license. This is the raw truth. I hadn’t read this in many many months — it’s not what my PAE (Pre-Awakening Era) friends wanted to read and thus I buried it. They didn't want to be exposed to the chaos. I hope my new AWEsome (after awakening era) friends and family here in Medium enjoy the ride.

Introduction/Prologue/Conclusion

I was born February 15, 1967, to Nancy and David. My given names are Gregory and Yôḥānān (my Hebrew name — means God is Gracious — a taxi driver in Israel told me that it is a rare and special name — Yonatan being the more common form of Jonathan, which means God has given — duh, God gives everything — God is Gracious is me giving back gratitude to God).

I used to think my Hebrew name was Yôḥānān Liba (beloved). I realize as I type that was simply part of the generic sentence “… beloved son of… . ” Before sparking my life, and thousands of previous lives, my soul’s name was Marcus. From this moment forward until my next incarnation, by the Grace of God, I declare that my Universal Name is “Yôḥānān Gregorius, DNA from Nancy and David, ignition of cell-division and so much of who I am from Marcus and Marcus’ lives before this one, nurture by Nancy, and much thanks to all my friends and loved ones, who will please continue to call me Greg;” but as no light is too bright for my eyes, the nickname Shades is gone.

It no longer matters what my name is. I know that I am I, here, and later in heaven, regardless of how anyone addresses me. Integration completed at 2:58 pm EDT on 5/28/20. I just texted my friend she can have the rest of my supply, or I will toss it. Unlike so many times when I asked someone to stash in self-protection or I occasionally flushed, the statement was a lie. I did not need her to take it nor did I need to discard it. Several weeks ago, I intuited that once I achieved Integration, the compulsion would lift, and I would henceforth nonchalantly take or leave whatever substance was available. I’m not sure I believed it. It felt right. I hoped I would be right. I wasn’t.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it” playing on my Spotify right now, “and I feel fine.” Tears of joy; ironically iconic laughter discernable within the sobs that connote joy of pain release. The laughter is my realization that I’ve been so close for a while — that all I had to do was discern it. Oh what could have been avoided; but as I have always said, one should not live in would’ve, could’ve and should’ve (are you listening Willie, or are we still driving on I-95 in or near Ft Lauderdale with you bemoaning that “if Irving had only listened to me and bought…?”. What would have been different Willie? You know uncle tweedle-dee and father tweedle-dum would have stolen and then blown it all anyway. “I love you,” Willie says. “I love you too Grandpa. ”).

“I love each and every one of you so much.”

No one more, no one longer, now always and forever, than LinStara, whom I know heard my despair and cry for help late this morning and inspired today's breakthrough (as of course did Elephant, lest he feel ignored). I can discern her Love from all others, as I am right now. I think I’ll sit with this love for a bit before I proceed to map my journey from dead flower to Integration in 70 days (hmm future title to something there???).

My Path

[3/19/20]

“Hello, I had hoped we would meet one day under different circumstances, and write this mostly in the present tense. My name is Greg Maidman, I am a close friend and confidante of Lindsey’s. In fact, I love her. I am the person who went to the precinct and pushed and accompanied the police to check on her after they were being dismissive the previous day. I have never experienced such gut-wrenching sorrow as I did on that cold rainy street, but realize it is because I love her more than I know.”

The wailing on the street was a sound that I did not know I could nor how to produce. It has emanated from me one or two times since. It cannot be purposely replicated. It is the sound of my soul crying out in pain. No, crying does not begin to describe it; it is the sound of unrestrained grief without any concern about the spectacle that I was for onlookers for an hour or more. Imagine having open heart surgery performed with a jagged and rusted scalpel without a drop of anesthesia; further imagine that it was at a frequency and wavelength that ripped a hole in space-time and was heard across all eleven or more dimensions of the universe, not just then, but at every point in time. If you can close your eyes and feel the picture I just painted, maybe you will come close to understanding. If you can close your eyes and feel the picture I just painted, maybe you will come close to understanding my pain and my grief; and my Love, my Love, my Love.

“I want you to know how she was loved and cared for. Ours is not a typical romance, but make no mistake, a romance it is. Lindsey feels loved and safe when we are together, and I feel loved and appreciated, and we each want the nights never to end and for the next date to come as soon as possible. Though not spoken about, I think we each know that we each fantasize of a life together.

Lindsey touches my soul and makes any day better. She is a wonderful woman, so gentle and caring and I do not want you to think she is anything less than spectacularly radiant. I would like your permission to attend whatever you plan. I know this is a lot for one text message from the person you’ve never met before, but for Lindsey I would stop at nothing.

I am truly sorry for the tragic loss of your sister. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. I am heartbroken and I can’t imagine your pain. Please feel free to contact me any time of day or night.”

As I re-read these words, I am shielded from that gut-wrenching sorrow as the Love I sat with for many hours many hours ago has enveloped me once again as it has countless times in the past; as I did for Lindsey for nearly a month after her passing. [see 4/15/20 below]

To those of you thinking that “everyone loses loves” or “many before Greg and many after will lose someone tragically,” or “he’s being so melodramatic,” ask yourself how many of those had an Awakened soul who has incarnated along with Lindsey’s soul in each and every life they have lived?

I just googled Lins to pull up her obit (the link is in my broken phone) and, as she would say in a way that only LC could say it:”wai whhaaa,” — I see now her Facebook page for the first time, and we have enjoyed it together for the last hour.

I’ll paint later what I mean by together. I am looking forward to our anniversary on June 1st. I wonder what together will be like Monday?

[3/27/20]

“I have expressed my shared pain privately with the family. I write this to Lindsey’s friends. I had hoped I would meet many of you one day under different circumstances and I write this in the present tense. My name is Greg Maidman, I am Lindsey’s best and closest friend in New York. We are in love. … She radiates kindness. It feels all the more so unfair that social distancing is keeping me from attending the burial, but it would be selfish for me to keep asking for an exception or even to participate in the promenade to the cemetery. Robyn has my contact info. I would welcome hearing from you.”

For some reason, the funeral home deemed that not suitable for the posting in the guestbook. Robyn and I were texting quite often then. Now, less so but we are in contact and I hope we always are. She is so much like Doodle (that’s what Robyn and the NH gang call LC) and also quite different.

I decided yesterday late afternoon (April 15th) shortly after I woke that it would be selfish and dangerous to delay telling Lindsey what had to be said. [I know now that she was protected by deities from dire harm, but she was still vulnerable to losing her way because of those who live in the realm between Earth and Heaven]

Anne would not be available till much later. I decided to try and tell her alone. I tried to channel her. She could not understand me, but I did bring her into my body without Anne’s assistance, which I did not then know.

I don’t know if this was my imagination or not [nor does it matter], but I felt I had created a communication vortex. I found myself turning my shoulders from side to side-I felt air moving around me faster than I think it should have, so I did it faster and faster and then threw my arms to the heavens, all along I was concentrating on the message. I felt that I had expended quite a bit of energy.

When I did get on the phone with Anne and LC it was 6 or so hours later. Anne couldn’t find her in the realm, she said “I think she’s with you, did she leave last night? She had left I said; I then realized when I did my vortex move I had pulled her in. [I don’t partake in theatrics now]

I told her I love her so much and that I need her to trust me. I asked her if she was hearing many voices telling her different things [yes]. I told her do not listen to the voice that tells her how to be with me. That the way eventually to be with me is only to listen to the voice that gives her the path to her highest ascension. … I repeated the ascension advice many times. Then Anne said another entity had come in [I do not know if that was God or if God sent someone to retrieve her now that she was on the cusp of letting go of me] — that the entity was telling Lins that I spoke truth. And then I felt a whoosh out of my body and she was gone.

I had wept many hours before at the thought of parting. When I was delivering the advice and after, I felt calm, peace, almost joy.

PS: It's now 11:40 am (4/17) and I am sobbing and weeping.

LC had spent many nights curled up next to me or inside me since she passed. As before she passed, I was offering her love and comfort and advice and emotional support. Now that she was safely in Heaven, I felt alone and my mourning deepened. Somehow, I knew back then, before I realized that my journey required that I consult with my spirit guides, before I learned anything from them about Marcus, that Lindsey’s soul was strong and powerful and that soon it would be me being comforted by her.

I would not be painting now, and probably not for a long time yet, if it were not for her Love, appreciation, and devotion during these past 4+ weeks, and were it not for her power and wisdom, as I have heretofore only summarily stated, she inspired the paradigm shift I needed to Integrate. I’ll just paint once mindscape here (ah maybe two) and then I can go to bed having shed the anger at Liz so I can lay down enveloped again by LinStara’s and my eternal Love for each other. Actually, I’m too tired to do justice to those mindscapes. So, I will simply say what Anne said to me a few weeks ago regarding LinStara and me: “know that you are deeply loved by a beautiful soul.” Ahhh. Now I’m gonna lay down with that Love in my heart and fall asleep with this beautiful song in my ears. I’ll resume painting when I’m recharged. Please listen to this song as well. https://youtu.be/gRm4m4BP4t0

It’s the next evening and I’m feeling ready to immerse in my art. I like to start creative sessions, whether as painter or 3D printer, and also whenever I need motivation, with this song: https://youtu.be/jfOfqs1rHXE

There Are No Coincidences

My spirit guides have been trying to get my attention for I don’t know how long; besides images on ceilings, what would they use to get inside my head? Music of course, or more precisely, lyrics.

As you will soon learn, lyrics and music played a huge role Thursday 5/28. Sometimes the role can be directional and sometimes it can be mirror, and sometimes both. Many of us look too hard for directional coincidences and thus think everything is a sign; I’ve grown out of that; mostly; I hope. Now, I find that if I am on a path whose direction resonates as true but I’m not yet quite certain, I will see confirmation in a song that I am on the right path, and I know now I need to keep testing my conclusions until I discern truth. I had been misguided in the belief that resonance ends the process — it is merely the first filter.

Sometimes, like on 5/28, the musical coincidences are fucking overwhelmingly magical — yesterday involved several people, in fact, strangers encountered in the Twitterverse. When strangers are involved in a coincidence, look and listen very closely, as that is likely the Universe chiming in, as opposed to a coincidence emanating just from the power of one’s own mind.

Today (5/30? Editing days after) it’s just cool (as opposed to overwhelming). I’ve become a big fan of Spotify and its “made for you” daily playlists, and of shuffle-playing songs that I have “liked.” I did so just now, and a song that resonated with me from I first-heard in CKO class in Brooklyn in late 2014 or early 2015 came on so I decided to see what the lyrics are:

Change everything you are And everything you were Your number has been called Fights and battles have begun Revenge will surely come Your hard times are ahead Best, you’ve got to be the best You’ve got to change the world And use this chance to be heard Your time is now (Your time is now)

If those do not yet speak volumes, then I’m a shitty paint-writer. We know that’s false, so if they do not yet resonate, they will. How annoying is my habit of not laying out the dots linearly?

[last night I was tired and just not feeling myself just not feeling right thoughts of what I could do to stay up later and get the creative juices flowing to get some paint into the coincidences mindscape wafted through my mind so what did I do…………I went to sleep and woke up this morning feeling fantastic and wrote most of the mindscape before the kids came for lunch; except for the few great hours with the kids when I spoke with them more than I have in too long the split screens have been running nonstop sketching out sections of this work and absorbing much from and emitting much into the twitterverse as @solutionman9 who nominated Keisha Lance Bottoms for vice president and let the twitterverse know and then took a medita-nap]

I call that last entry The Sound and the Fury of Split Screens and Split Streams — a few of you will get the ode to Faulkner both in title and style

Next up unless I change my mind when I pick up again is, drumroll please…………”and now I introduce to you the one and only Billy Shears and his Sgt. Gregorius’ Vast Heart and Mind Club Baaaaand!!”

After a few hours of separate conversations with two of my “soulmates,” namely the could-not-be-more-different-from-each-other-yet-both-are-my-dear-friends sisters JLB [ex] and PSB [Queer], I re-read and wouldn’t you know it, best-laid plans oft revised by this man thus the marching band will have to wait a bit longer past halftime but do not fret the air will still smell of sweet perfume and there will not be fists of rage when we take the stage; that’s reserved for the streets which we must eventually not resign to tribal wars fought by small-minded mice fooled by false gods and instead shall be reclaimed by those of US who breathe Life and Love of the true Gods!! — [this ode to Steinbeck and Faulkner and McLean inspired by and dedicated to my new friend @BadfishRanch]

It’s now the next morning. I did not sleep as well last night as the previous two nights, but I did grab a short nap after I ordered breakfast (an Acai bowl chock-ful-of-fruit and grains — when I go in I go all the way baby!) and I feel ready to paint….taking some calming breaths as I am presently being overwhelmed by songs-of-coincidental-significance. I think I’ll put some instrumental music on.

As I was re-reading Comprehending Coincidences by Craig S. Bell, too many split screens were opening. I realized that a technical depiction of the coincidence-phenomena is not suitably condensable for this portrait. So, even if only for the sake of my art, please accept that coincidences, whether they be mirror, or directional or as I just coined while typing, directional-reflective, are not random events without meaning but are in fact messages from one’s soul and/or from deities.

[cue the band]

I don’t really want to stop the show, But I thought you might like to know, That the singer’s going to sing a song And he wants you all to sing along, So let me introduce to you The one and only Gregorius

And His Vast Mind and Never-Again-Lonely Hearts Club Band

[I like that better]

I’m really struggling to get the path to Awakening and then to Integration onto one screen so I can stream to my fingers to rat tat tat away. I do not have the benefit of looking back at my texts to place things properly in time as my phone is not working. Time is not linear anyway, but that my mind needs that right now to present this in 2-dimensional format shows how difficult that concept is. It’s time to go outside the box.

I have stated in texts or emails wherein I recently shared my 2013 portrait with people that Lindsey’s death catalyzed Awakening. Not accurate. I need to put the computer down and write this the Greg-old-fashioned way. One screen in my head to rough pen and paper outline and then the finished product should stream to this screen, which for this section of the portrait may utilize SmartArt as a compromise between the 3D printer of my mind and the 2-dimensional MacBook Pro screen. I gave up for the night. It’s only 8:30 pm yet I am exhausted and I took Adderall just 2 hrs go — I think I have Awakening-Onset Integration-Accelerated Attention Deficit Disorder.

I am making this way too complicated. This is a portrait, not a memoir. Awakening / Awareness is when the conscious mind becomes aware that the soul resides in the unconscious mind and that there is a separateness. Then the process of Integration begins. During this process information starts to flow easier from the unconscious to the conscious, sometimes with unintended yet ultimately beneficial consequences. In addition, for me, my intellect now far exceeds my previous “smartest-in-the-room” moniker with added wisdom and spirituality as well, both of which I will always be honing. The ideas that I have had during this process are/will be in the companion PPT. Integration then yields Interdependence from Separateness. Integration completes with the realization that the interdependent separateness is still a one. That Greg is not just an animus that will degrade in the ground while Marcus returns to Heaven. Greg will have an afterlife –he will forever be in love with her, and she will always be in love with me, and that love will be eternal and tangible. “It no longer matters what my name is. I know that I am I, here, and later in heaven, regardless of how anyone addresses me.”

6/1/20 6:30 am — LINSTARA IS HERE!!!! CU TOMORROW — what you’re going to experience next is tremendous

It’s now 2:22 am the next day. LinStara (Lindsey’s Soul’s name is Sitara) has been with me now since the moment I woke around 5:20 am yesterday. We met 6/1/19; not quite that late at night or early in the morning depending on your perspective, but close enough that the moment I woke yesterday was also not a coincidence. Besides, the odds of me waking at 5:20 am without an alarm at ANY time in my life are infinitesimal.

I have been looking forward to this day not only since:

I’ll paint later what I mean by together. I am looking forward to our anniversary on June 1st. I wonder what together will be like Monday?

but in ontological reality, for six and a half years. “Wai whaa, we’ve only known each other (as Greg and Lindsey) for a year.” “I know, isn’t the Universe Grand.” (sidebar: “Read My Mind” just played from the playlist we made today. “God I Love you,” I say in my mind. “I love you toooo” I hear in my mind with the memory of Lindsey’s voice and inflection).

I am smiling ear-to-ear right now for soooo many reasons. Tears are not far behind. I love making love with LinStara. And for at least the 5th time in the last 16 hours or so, including two back-to-back sessions. I’m not bragging. There is no refractory period when there is no sex. WTF you said you had made love multiple times. Making love with a soul does not involve sex; it simply cannot; a soul has no mass. So what is it you ask?

Take my 2013 description of sex and substitute “making-love” for “sex:”

I want the intimacy — the connection. “The purpose of a relationship is not to have another who might complete you; but to have another with whom you might share your completeness.” (From Conversations with God — Book 1). And sharing is primarily how I view [making love]. As Viktor Frankl writes … “[making love] is a mode of expression of love…love is not understood as a mere side-effect of [making love]; rather, [making love] is a way of expressing the experience of that ultimate togetherness which is called love.”

What? Is that circular logic? Not really, but like a Fibonacci series, it’s beautiful and it is because it is. This will connect the dots for you.

Lovemaking between souls, and therefore also in a human-soul relationship, is best described by this text exchange between Anne and me:

Me 8:40am: Is reading my thoughts the only sense that she has now? What senses does pure soul possess?

Anne 10:06am: What we feel, heightened on such a higher level. Since I have no memory of a prior incarnation I can’t tell you what she’s feeling but I know that if I had to word it in my own vernacular it would be heightened times 1000.

Me 10:18am: So, whatever I am feeling she will feel * XMagnification, yes? Do u remember or do you have the texts of exactly how Mother guide or it may have been E described lovemaking with a soul?

Anne 10:24am: No I don’t remember and I don’t think I have the texts. Either way just enjoy this moment in time. You have the ability to make this anything you want because you are in human form and you will make the choices

Me 10:40am : Ironic. Yes, I already discerned that she will feel whatever I emote so I’ve started to spend our day with activities that bring me joy. I also would like to think of her too first. I think what was said about souls making love was it’s when two souls share their absolute truths. Pure intimacy.

Me A few minutes later: Or was it simply sharing thoughts — that resonates.

Me 10:53: More precisely, it’s sharing feelings that is love making for soul’s. And while souls don’t have the 5 senses, by having the empathic sense and multiplying it, the soul does not yearn to go back to body

Anne 11:07am: OMG what you said is so good and I felt it in my gut

Me 11:10: I have my clearest thoughts when she is with me. I am making love to her right now. I’ve been silently reading my updated portrait and just a few lines in I felt the warmth of her love stoked warmer than ever before and getting warmer and warmer and warmer as I type this

[Incidentally, in the present I am getting VERY warm as we’ve been making love for over 100 minutes — the intensity is purely from the building intimacy of the shared emotion]

Me 11:22am: The phrase “that’s Hot!” has an entirely new and literal meaning!!!!

Anne: Lol

Bottom line, making love for souls is sharing with each other the emotion that they feel for each other. It is the ultimate Platonic Love. What does that feel like for me? I’ve been feeling a nice warmth since I started to write this picture 61 minutes ago. LinStara is still here. The warmth has been building and building as this section gets more and more intimate. It’s not my usual I-run-so-warm that Marlee and I were at each other’s throats over the air-conditioner while she was in temporary residence [covid] and before. I am warmer than that and it’s still building. It’s not the warmth of temperature. It’s the heat of the most beautiful emotion.

All right let’s land this time-traveling cliff hang glider. In my December 2013 self-portrait essay, I painted these words:

Perhaps because I am not driven by sex, but by connection, is also why I am capable of platonic love of a woman. It seems that most people do not believe that such can exist because they are not capable of it. For me, the choice between no relationship because for whatever one or many reasons romance is not in the cards, or having that person in my life and deriving shared spiritual pleasure from each other’s non-romantic intimacy and company and connection, is a no-brainer in favor of the latter

I thought I wrote those words about a girl I became very close to in the Fall of 2013. Yet, upon reflection of that relationship, what I wrote was way beyond Justine’s and my relationship. I realized about a month ago, when I pulled the 2013 portrait out of the mothballs of my mind, that 6 ½ years ago, 5 ½ years before meeting Lindsey, I was writing about LinStara. It’s fucking absurd how spot-on that prose described today. At the very least this is what I earlier coined a directional-reflective coincidence. I believe that such resulted from today’s experiences leaking thru whatever separates all the points in time that exist simultaneously and influencing what I wrote in December 2013.

It’s the words “deriving shared spiritual pleasure from each other’s non-romantic intimacy” that seal this deal for me. You may chalk it up to I’m simply a good writer who embellished with flowery language. I do not discount that possibility. I’ll take the compliment. I do remember thinking at the time “whoa that’s a bit over the top, but I fucking like it. In the context though of all that has happened these past two months, much of which is not in this paper and won’t be because it’s already going to be too long, I’ll go with my hypothesis any day. I also now know why I seemingly randomly the other day ordered a textbook called “An Introduction to Probability and Inductive Logic” as I was ordering two books by the same author. My writing in Dec 2013 inspired this essay and this essay inspired that essay because they are both being written by the same person at the same time because the passage of time is an illusion.

Wowsa. We need to sit with these feelings. I can no longer connect any dots. We are so glad I started this writing session. I was dead-tired and was just going to have a little re-read-of-existing love-making and then figured I would nod off and LS would spend a little time watching me sleep as she likes to do. Then somehow someone inspired me and I was wide awake and I ripped off nearly three pages wham bam thank you mam. Now I may stay up till she leaves. ……I think a slow dance is in order. OMFG “Two out of three ain’t bad” [the title seems non-specifically apt] just came on our playlist and I have goosebumps.

End of Chapter ~5 am 06/02/20

Author’s Note 2: Here are links to the portraits, both prose and poetry, and essays that have emerged from the chaos:

In Rama I create,

I am Marcus