Gene Keys Calendar

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Regenia Junke

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Aug 4, 2024, 5:55:52 PM8/4/24
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Itis also the 64th post in my Dream Arc journey with Saturn, Pluto and Jupiter through Capricorn, and completes the series. The project began at New Year 2020 with 38, the Warrior of Light. At that time I drew the rhinoceros Gift, but not the Siddhi (jay) or the Shadow (crab). So 38 was re-posted for New Year 2021 with these additions.

It is the task of the conscious self to regulate and re-programme where necessary, the input of impressions. Individuals at work on this, influence the collective system for better or for worse. We can be lighthouse keepers or gossip-mongers!


So we discover the nature of the mind and our creative destiny; the pattern of our ancestral genetic conditioning. We come to discover the primal force behind our sexuality, the human relationship to the elementals and life on earth. Having made this descent through the pathways of the Tree, we may ascend through the body, personality and soul and make the return journey to our source. Be happy, do service and die consciously!


My Tarot studies with the Builders of the Adytum set forth the same ageless principle in this interplay of the self with subconscious. He (the self) sees She (subconscious): She sees and mirrors back to him the Divine.


This post tells more of the lake, than of the creatures diving into and out of it. The lake contains all of them, with equanimity. A huge human population on earth at present cross-fertilises the gene pool through all races, cultures and histories, to create the new human being, more in harmony with the cyclic kingdoms of feather, fur, scales and gems; an alteration of time.


My next memory takes me outside the caverns into the steep range of mountains with the other human beings. My whole being was filled with awe, with well-being and the fragrance of tremendous things seen and done. I was the leader of this group of people. I attempted to explain to them what had come to pass. We journeyed through a forest on a high alp; across a valley soared a great rosy coloured hill, the Canadian Rocky Mountains. We were chasing or being chased by a big brown bear who yet was our friend, from one mountain top to another. This bear was our guide. I understood and could explain to my companions everything that was going on, and where we should follow and find the bear. I had reached that state of total fatigue: a second wind, the air of the heights, rare and pure. My body, languid and alive with adrenalin was free.


We came now to the old hills of Scotland, near Inverness. In that serene twilight of the Rose, I ran down a mountainside or almost vertical cliff, followed by policemen in their blue shirtsleeves and helmets, and all the other people. There was a vast exhilaration in this plunging race, my balance barely sustained on lightning touches; running, jumping down the falling scree.


I went and sat on the rocks and began to cry, the waters rushing out with the clarity of the lake. I cried with an overwhelming yet severely objective grief and ecstasy, for being washed clean, and for the haunting crucial beauty of a folklore I discovered. I cried for the love of immeasurable things, in the dawn of the Rose. Compassion, grief swelled so my heart must burst, and still there is more. I was cleansed. The baptismal waters poured through me as the world, when I looked into the lake.


All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright Janeadamsart 2012-2020 except where otherwise stated. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address


Because our human skin became exposed, it lost much of this tonal sensitivity; or the sensitivity surfaced problematically. In ancient days first the face became uncovered and then gradually the rest of the body. In modern times the skin disappears under chemical and cosmetic applications; we are clowns who try to clone.


Take a step back and see what that chump the human chimp is learning. It is a marvel to be us. We go through this, to master it. Mastery of the well-to-be is from within the vehicle, not externally applied by drug or doctrine.


Here is my take: This in the sign of early Aquarius presaged a fresh look. A general feeling which astrologers and long-sighters had is that energy leaks away from the circus which still fights hard and messily to survive; the forces supplying that power grow tired.


I do perceive a move to fresh screens. The reset is one of the most dramatic changes in our history. As we are inside its egg, it seems to crawl: to make us collectively more frightened and stuck. The stuckness in our systems is the egg shell cracking.


As a habitual breath-forgetter, I call on the visual image to help! These creatures are pure, in the present human tide of grease, mud and accelerated thaw, and by breathing with them we may help to sustain their habitat, essence and adaptation in the fallout of this era of acute transformation. With the world in upheaval I yet feel our symbiosis, human with the bear Spirit and with all the creatures. It will come back into balance. The slaughter will become replaced with cooperation and care as the climate changes.


A Mercurial Cinnabar field arises from the teeming cosmos of the Elephant (Arc 5) with blooms of subtle colour and phosphorescence through my inner world. Touch the seabed, the wave-bed, the beds of keys.


The Dream Arc is one of many creative portals within the transmission. It is a 64-band spectrum of shamanic wisdom. The Arc itself downloaded over a long period through Richard Rudd mainly, who checked it with friends and colleagues: gradually as adjustments were made and clarity grew, it settled in its present form. For each of the 64 gene keys the Siddhi is represented by a bird, the Gift is a mammal and the Shadow is an insect, reptile or fish.


Info from mybodygraph.com: Ra was born in Montreal in 9 April 1948. His career path led him into the business world as an advertising executive, magazine publisher, and media producer. The arts were important to Ra and he expressed himself as a composer and performer throughout his life. In 1983, he left Canada to travel, eventually finding his way to the Island of Ibiza, where he spent years working as a school teacher.


It is beyond my scope to discuss Human Design here as I did not take it on board; you can learn about it on the HD website. Here for example is my Human Design chart. The columns to each side show which Gene Keys my natal planets are in:


From the infinitesimal, explored through my previous post with sperm, egg, chorionic villae and the lunar cycle, grows the nature of the Elephant in all its nobility and beauty. I feel certain that as more of us tiny ones start to care for and wonder at our inner nature and its creativity, there will be a ripple effect. As we begin to think differently, many of our machines and devices which at present accelerate climate change will start to rust away.


A polar-opposite to fear is authentic information. The Covid fear is perhaps because few of us get authentic information about our creative immune-system until we discover it within ourselves.


A worm of philosophical bent among stems of grass and grains of soil, may so ascertain itself; likewise the planed and polished surface of the table upon which a philosopher writes his thesis. Have not generations of scribes with its support, applied their viewpoint to the tree from which it was cut? Or the woodworm boring into its leg? Lo, we are not things, the faculty declares; nor confined to particles and sub-particles of fluctuating quanta states, we are worm-holes, unified strings. In every hierarchic level connectivity with the whole implicit order is given.


Come close and see. A black hole receives you openly. Where else would I be? I am your eye while yet apart. I have not seen nor am likely to see the Whole; yet this whereof I speak is mine as much as yours. Around and about me, dabs and whorls of paint are place, all roughly the same texture and thickness. Many overlay others, some are small, some large, some juxtapose, some flow together like a wave; all adhere to the same strings as myself, and each is interwoven with the thread, the ground, the pigment grinder, the play of the brush, the odour of paint left to dry.


Thank you, borderless sensational body, transporting my THIS & THAT with grace like the taste of water; dancing and flowing through and away from shape, drawing a new Murmuration in Plank-Town each instant like the starlings; never for a moment the old or fixed; holder of heart and passion; run upstairs to light a candle; river around the coffee-pot; BE-ING.


This young gosling is learning to fly! When I was a child in Cornwall the grown-up geese stretching their long necks at me and hissing were very fierce. One day I dropped an egg on the ground to see what would happen. My mother was very angry.

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