Archangel Michael elevates my energy, gently placing me on a sandy shore. He vanishes, and I recognize this place as Lemuria, a land I've encountered in past lifetimes. I make my way toward the huts, seeking out my companions. Observing myself, I notice my sun-kissed skin and long braid of brown and gray hair, a remnant from a previous existence that I have revisited multiple times. This journey takes me even further into the future. As I walk, a burning sensation emerges in my chest, a remnant of an old respiratory illness that never fully healed. Numbness envelops me, and a serious demeanor replaces any joy.

I locate my partner, who embodies the essence of Archangel Michael. He served as the spiritual guide for our tribe until we gradually lost our psychic abilities. In our youth, we were attuned to our guides, living harmoniously in connection with one another. Now, a sense of distrust pervades our community. Once-divine knowledge has succumbed to suspicion and fear. Over time, our connection to the divine has faded, rendering us unable to hear our guides. My partner's role as spiritual leader has diminished, a loss he grapples with, bearing shame for our tribe's decline. Some members have splintered off to form new tribes, promising a better way of life, yet they are chaotic and hostile, sowing division among us. I find myself apart from my partner; his anger weighs heavily on me, mirroring my own frustrations. We are all entangled in a web of depression and fear, facing an onslaught of hardships. I enter a new partnership, but he, too, takes on a leadership role, voicing his discontent with our tribe while shifting blame instead of seeking solutions. My feelings for him are absent, leaving me feeling aimless, like a ship lost at sea, searching for direction. Although my new partner seems to have a path, it is unhealthy, yet I cling to the safety of following someone who appears certain amidst our collective uncertainty—a formula for disaster. I experience despair for myself and my people, yet I hesitate to delve deeper into that feeling, fearing it will engulf me entirely. My gaze shifts to my former partner; the light that once surrounded him has dimmed, his confidence replaced by shadows under his eyes, a testament to sleepless nights filled with turmoil. He harbors resentment toward me for moving on, and our conversations are scarce.

What remains unknown to us is the greater spiritual battle waging over Lemuria. Unseen galactic forces have unleashed energetic assaults, obstructing our divine knowledge and crippling our power. As these effects intensified, our society transitioned from cooperation to competition and fear. My new partner, seeking strength, allied with a galactic group to acquire technology unknown to us before. However, this alliance did not serve our best interests; they exploited our weakened state in a bid to dismantle the unity and harmony for which our civilization was known.

The technology introduced a synthetic material that polluted our environment, emitting noxious odors and contaminating our air and water. My partner, eager to profit, employed workers to produce seemingly beneficial items, leading many to purchase them without realizing the repercussions. The harsh chemicals resulted in acid rain, causing respiratory ailments among both humans and animals. On the shore, golden dolphins and other creatures washed ashore, appearing healthy yet poisoned by the invisible toxins released into our ecosystem. Golden dolphins, with their crystalline energy, were essential for maintaining the planet's higher vibrational state. As they perished, the risk of Earth descending into lower dimensions loomed.

Jealousy emerged among the splintered tribes; for the first time, certain factions accessed technology while others remained deprived. This shift contradicted our previous ethos of sharing everything acquired. My new partner sought power and resources solely for himself, diverging from our tribe's core values. Eventually, I could no longer endure this dynamic and ended our partnership. He remained unfazed, quickly pursuing multiple romantic relationships as if I had constrained his true desires.

I pondered my first partner's thoughts on my failed relationship with this new man. My lingering affection for him persisted, despite my emotional immaturity impeding my ability to navigate our shared struggles. My first partner chose solitude, retreating into his pain, and when illness took hold toward the end of his life, I would bring him sustenance, yearning for reconciliation, yet lacking the emotional strength to seize the opportunity. He harbored deep resentment, avoiding eye contact, fearful of acknowledging the love still present within him.

As civil war erupted among the tribes of Lemuria, both my first partner and I had already departed from this realm. The chaos only deepened the fear and distrust among the people, fostering feelings of helplessness as events spiraled out of control, dominated by fear-driven decisions.

The traumas from the decline of Lemuria remain embedded in the souls who lived through that era. This decline unfolded over two centuries, culminating in a series of unseen galactic assaults that implanted a technological device deep within the ocean floor, causing sections of the island to fracture and submerge. These disruptions manifested as frequent and intense earthquakes. This period was terrifying, as parts of the land vanished overnight, prompting many to flee while others remained, vying for power. Ultimately, the instability of the sea floor led to the island's gradual disintegration. In a mere decade, Lemuria transformed from a paradise to a crumbling ruin beneath the waves.

The groundwork for our downfall was laid during my youth and even before my birth. Dark galactic forces infiltrated the island with an energetic toxin, often encountered innocently by the inhabitants. Unbeknownst to them, these toxins created energetic barriers designed to hinder progress, evolution, and ascension, obstructing the light and distorting the planet's fate. This covert attack was devastatingly effective. By the time I reached adulthood, these energetic barriers were already entrenched. In my earlier years, our tribe had maintained a connection, successfully preventing hurricanes from impacting Lemuria with our guides' assistance. However, by the end of my lifetime, our community had descended into the third dimension, while it had previously thrived in the seventh. Competition and fear fractured us into factions, leading to violence over resources. Some were driven by ambition, while others languished in despair and powerlessness. This mirrors the state of our modern Earth—our struggles persist. The legacy of Lemuria demonstrates the profound significance of cultivating a personal connection to the divine and harnessing our senses to engage with our guides.

You may wonder about those enduring toxins. Do they still linger? Indeed. If you experienced a lifetime in Lemuria, it is likely you incarnated during the critical period of its decline. During such pivotal moments in a planet's history, lightworkers and starseeds emerge to gain insights and strive to prevent disasters. Often, however, our efforts to avert destruction have fallen short. Many layers of trauma accompany our experiences in Lemuria—guilt and shame for failing to preserve a land of beauty and peace, anger directed at the darkness and ourselves. These complex traumas are surfacing now, inviting us to confront and heal these deep-seated wounds.