Starless... broken hearts over eons trigger...
Okay, it's 11:13 PM on Friday, June 19th, 2026. Tomorrow is the last day of spring for this year, whatever that means. Let's just get right down to business. Archangel Michael, I honor you, respect you, and appreciate you. You protect me in so many ways, always. Thank you. Archangels Metatron and Raziel, yes, thank you, thank you, thank you. Sujata and Charles Winchester, thank you, thank you. I kind of felt my mom popping in here. Hi, Mom. There's my dad as well. Hi, guys.
The topic I want to investigate tonight is about the reactions I had to listening to some music this morning. It was one song in particular, but I heard it played three different ways by three different groups of people. It's not even the lyrics; it's the melody. It's the complexity and the difficulty of the instrumentation. It's an extremely difficult piece of music to play, and anybody who learns how to play it has to practice a lot. There are five different instruments: two guitars, a bass guitar—well, I think I've seen it done with just one guitar—drums, a vocalist, and a keyboardist. I've also seen one person play this song on an acoustic guitar, and I've heard a string orchestra play it. There are all kinds of different ways.
It doesn't matter which rendition it is; something happens where it's like a hand goes into my chest and squeezes my heart. It electrifies me with pent-up, hidden emotions that are just released, and I instantly start to cry like a baby. Instant, instant. Team, my team, this is what I want out. Let's channel this tonight; I want to find out what this is all about. I don't get pictures in my mind, and there's no picture connected to the emotions. I don't know the connecting link. Either it's the entire belly full of repressed emotions that are locked in my body—that's got to be it—because it's not like I hear the song and it makes me think about my dad dying when I was eleven. There's just no connection to any specific experience.
At the same time, I've had this experience repeatedly. There are a couple of other songs it happens with, too; actually, there's a whole bunch of songs. I mean, I cried for an hour listening to a System of a Down concert, and that's not even the band that triggered me this morning. This morning it was King Crimson. In that experience with System of a Down, there were no pictures either—no picture that says, "Oh, this reminds me of this loss, or this attack on myself." There's no connection to anything.
Somebody take over and inform me what's going on here, please. Who's gonna come forth and explain this to me? Okay, there's somebody here popping in. It feels like an ascended master. The very first face I saw actually was Saint Francis, whom I don't really talk to a lot. The only times I ever really call on Saint Francis is to do healings for pets, so I feel like I'm missing out on so much with him. Saint Francis, hi, dear sir. Do you have an explanation about this for me? Or are you just taking the reins tonight, even if it's not necessarily something that is your specialty?
What I'm feeling and getting from him is that these emotions are ancient. That's the word he used—that they go back, and this is a very, very deep thread of lifetimes of unprocessed emotional trauma that I've accumulated. He's saying that's why there are no faces, no face or name to it; it's like the collective accumulation. I asked if he could say anything more specific, and he's like, "Just be grateful that you've found a mechanism. You've been given a gift of having this mechanism."
I don't know if I could just... I don't have days where I say, "Oh, I wish I could have a good cry." I don't feel like I'm building up repressed emotions in my life right now, although I've said that about myself all my life. He said, "You're lying. You do repress your emotions, because you don't have anybody that you share them with or experience them with to process them. Everything that you wish you could have in this world, in this life, that you accept not receiving—that is an act of repression." Thank you, I accept that explanation. That makes sense to me.
He's saying, "You have not learned this lesson yet." Oh, God, he's saying I'm in so much denial about just accepting what's given, what's dished out to me. I just accept not getting to have the experiences I wish I could have, putting up a strong face, and saying, "I don't care, it doesn't matter," and that's causing repression. It's backing up. I'm putting more fuel into that fire of the collective repression of emotions. I believe it; I do believe it. Oh, my God, he just said that this could be the thing that kills me—the way that people don't process.
With what I've been trying to do with my writing, going through my history, forgiving, asking for forgiveness, and sending Reiki healing to these parts of my history, he says there's not enough time. He says I would have to live three more lifetimes like this or more to go through and do this same work to get through all that I've repressed even in this one life. Oh, goodness, that's terrifying me. I have no solution for myself for this, because I don't feel like I have any power to create the life that I want to have. Oh, man. This is a really hard message tonight. Oh, God. I don't know if I can handle hearing any more about this.
Can somebody else come in and give me some light here? Okay, I feel like my team is holding me up. Sujata and Charles Winchester are supporting me and holding me up. Yes, yes, you are. Yes, thank you. Okay, okay.
I've got to hold onto something, to somehow cling to a new experience. I can't rely on previous experiences with my relationship with Yeshua to give me any further than I've ever gotten before. those old experiences are part of what I'm built out of, but I have to have fresh experiences. I have to have fresh, honest experiences of growth and trust. Lord Yeshua, I ask you for your help. I ask you for your blessing to help me understand how to live my life right. Oh, God, this is really something. I don't know what to do to get in touch with you more. I grabbed a bunch of books that I think reading might open up my connection with you more. I don't know what else to do. There's no church I can go to where that's going to happen; I've got to have direct experiences with you right here, right now, like this.
He's saying again, "The key is loving yourself. You've got to love yourself." I don't know how to do that. Every idea or inkling of it just feels so minuscule; it feels like it's such a huge task. He's saying, "You're overthinking it. Keep it simple. Keep it simple." Keep it simple. He's saying you have to accept yourself as you are—accept yourself for what you are and who you are. Thank you. No judgment. And let the Holy Spirit fill you up. Let the Holy Spirit fill you up. The Holy Spirit already fills you; accept that as truth and realize it.
I feel like something is happening. Something is shifting.
Does anybody want to say anything else? I don't think so; I think that might be it. Okay, my team, thank you, everybody. Thank you. Bring me back for more of this; bring me some more songs to cry to. Okay, let it go there. Thank you, everyone. Good night.
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Chatgpt response...
Thank you for sharing this. Reading it as a piece of spiritual journaling and self-inquiry, a few things stand out very strongly.
The first is that the session begins with a question about music, but it rapidly becomes a session about acceptance.
You start by asking:
Why does music do this to me?
But by the middle of the session, the conversation has shifted to:
Why have I become accustomed to living without certain experiences I deeply wanted?
Those are very different questions.
What caught my attention is that the answer you received was not about childhood memories, specific losses, or even particular people. Instead, the message kept returning to the idea that every time you quietly conclude, "Well, I guess that isn't for me," some energy remains unexpressed.
Whether one views that literally, spiritually, or psychologically, that's actually a remarkably coherent thread throughout your recent months.
Think about the themes that have repeatedly appeared in conversations you've shared:
Anthony Head asking why you aren't writing.
Prince asking why you aren't writing.
Johnny Cash steering conversations back toward expression and service.
Your recent breakthrough at the library.
The emotional detonations triggered by books, films, music, and Ted Lasso.
The Fargo trip finally being booked after months of hesitation.
The repeated feeling that life is trying to move you somewhere and that you've spent decades standing still.
Those are all expressions of movement.
The opposite theme is resignation.
The Saint Francis section is interesting because the message isn't:
"You suffered terrible things."
Instead it's:
"You accepted the absence of things you longed for."
That's a much subtler grief.
A person can grieve not only what happened, but also what never happened.
Not the death of a dream, but the gradual shelving of it.
That felt like the emotional center of this session.
The music itself is fascinating.
You mention that it was King Crimson.
King Crimson often affects listeners in a very unusual way because the music combines:
extraordinary technical complexity,
emotional intensity,
tension and release,
beauty emerging from chaos.
Many listeners describe feeling emotionally overwhelmed by music without any accompanying memory or image.
Music accesses parts of human experience that are older than language.
A melody can bypass the storytelling mind completely.
You don't need a picture.
You don't need a memory.
You don't even need words.
The nervous system responds before the analytical mind understands why.
The fact that you've had the same reaction to:
King Crimson,
System of a Down,
Ted Lasso,
Donald Ray Pollock,
certain films,
suggests a pattern.
It isn't one song.
It isn't one genre.
It's encounters with something that feels intensely alive and authentic.
When that happens, your emotional gates open.
Another thing I noticed:
Near the end of the session, the tone changes dramatically.
The Saint Francis section becomes heavy and almost overwhelming:
"There isn't enough time."
"Three more lifetimes."
"This could kill you."
Then Yeshua's message arrives and reduces everything to:
Keep it simple.
Accept yourself.
No judgment.
The contrast is striking.
One voice presents an impossibly large mountain.
The other reduces the entire mountain to the next step.
And if I look at your life over the last month, the second approach seems much more aligned with what is actually producing results.
You didn't solve fifty years of creative blockage.
You went to the library and wrote.
You didn't heal every wound.
You wrote a blog entry.
You didn't solve your entire relationship with expression.
You wrote again the next day.
That is "keep it simple" in action.
One final observation.
You ended the session with:
Bring me some more songs to cry to.
That made me smile.
Because compared to many earlier sessions you've shared, there is less fear of the emotional release itself.
A year ago, the focus might have been:
What is wrong with me?
Tonight it feels closer to:
Whatever this is, it's helping.
You may not fully understand why certain music reaches into your chest and opens the floodgates.
But the session suggests you've begun trusting the process more than you used to.
And considering everything you've described recently—the writing returning, the tears returning, the feeling of movement returning—that may be one of the most significant developments of all.
One practical thought: since this session centered on music, it might be worth keeping a dedicated notebook page titled "Songs That Open the Gate." Not to analyze them, but simply to collect them. Over time you might discover patterns in the artists, harmonies, instruments, moods, or themes that consistently unlock something important for you.
King Crimson has now clearly earned a place on that list.
Comments
And I like the song list idea.
I have a list of folk.songs. I have learned the songs by heart and sing them to my self on my morning walks with my dog.
Very cool about singing your favorite songs to yourself on your walks!!