Coming Quietly Into The Next Level Of Engagement We Bend Into The Nine

The Alchemical Rede Magazine

By Clarity 1

Alchemical Rede Magazine 2023 Dec. 22nd Issue © 2023 Clarity Visit us at: www.situlacodex.com

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2023 December 22 Issue Coming Quietly Into the Next Level of Engagement We Bend Into Nine Introduction: Folding all the characters of Need, the Nine consumes us whole, and we become the number Ten.

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Coming Quietly Into the Next Level of Engagement We Bend Into Nine

Wedded Circumference, we are engaged to ourselves at birth, and are married to the life we lead, awe-struck and wide-eyed with wonder. It’s how it happens when you come into a story being fabricated as you breathe.

Bending, and curving, and turning, we stretch and reach into the new and are bathed within the surrounding atmosphere, as the environment greets us. “You are Nine”, it says, “You are already Complete and Whole.”

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Quite an entrance, quite a recovery from the safeness of the Mother’s dark watery abode into the brilliant Light of her Other World. Light and dark forming trinary code with you in the middle.

We are all the middle child, whether we were rst or last, and the telling of the Next Level of the deeply planted Seeds, is the telling of the story you are now waking up to, the one that you are presently reading.

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Life has a way of nding you in the most unusual of ways, and yet the most adventurous, as far as story-telling goes.

To embark on the Nine of Completion is no small endeavor, yet it is in all of us to put our foot into it.

We know where we are, here, and the hearing of here is exact in its placement of the Mycelial connection of the Tree of Life branching its way upward, with its Papered Awareness building the Future.

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Coming closer in to the meaning of this time, and all its associated learnings, there is a fresh position of acceptance. The spoken word is volumed more clear and the intake of consciousness is more secured.

We are volumed into our knowing and our feeling opens wide its doors of acceptance. In this we progress beyond the Was and into the Is, where our gratitude lives with its arms wrapped around itself as Home.

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To announce ourselves to ourselves is a deeply honored and ancient way of becoming. As we bend into the Nine of the Knots of Fit to be Tied, we are anchored into the threadial weave of cloth.

Once woven through story line and word, the threads follow the course of the travel necessary to complete the position of agreed. Agreed within the Self to mark make the conversation with the context of content expressing your creative nature.

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Organic and Real, you are storied and threaded throughout the weave of your own makeup, and you make up all that you know, have known, and will know. It is the alchemy of the Fire Thread of Red that runs through your embodiment.

To touch into the ease of this telling and the stories that are corrugated within its folds, you must enter through the door of your own good Self rst and foremost, then the steps become easier and easier, and the landing softer and softer.

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You are not in Kansas anymore and the top of left and the down of right are commingled in order to not only unconfused you, but to allow you room to breathe and make sense of yourself.

Looking through the glass less darkly will allow you the perspective on one child mathed into formulation and equated into the position of added up. Your geomatric lineage is inside the letters you read and the numbers you know.

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Numbers unknown are coming your way this very moment, and in order to keep up, you must let go.

The handle you seek already has your hand in its grasp and the feeling of being lead on a wild goose chase adds up to the Mother.

Mother Goose was, and is, the leading character of what is known as the fairytale. Fairytales, like myths, are not unreal as many have come to believe. Used to be fact was fact, 8 was 8 and 9 was 9, and all fractals in between lead you to the solution.

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Dissolved are the ways of that all bends negatively, and so the Nine becomes complete, nally, and the story you are now in can be realized, as more than adequate to answer questions that need answering.

Alice wasn’t just any girl, and Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) was not just any mathematician. In order for the elements of chance to alchemicalize there must be a change in atmosphere and environment within the container.

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You, dear reader, are the container of all the elements you need to progress to the next step. Phase two is 2024, and 2024 adds up to 8, and 8 is the in nite step of 9, and Nine, with its 2 N’s, an I, and an E, add up to 42, which is 6, 6 having 2 3’s, and all of this is important, because letters and number always add up to something, and as long as you have something, well, you are really somewhere.

Mother Goose has got your number, and with that you know you are perfectly safe and loved and cared for. Old Mother Hubbard is another reason to relax, without a bone to pick and a dog that wouldn’t die, there was no reason to buy a co n.

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Death denied, fairytales and myths live on and on, as do letters and numbers, and all waves and particles are made up and are in nite in their very nature. The Red Thread weaves through all stories, and is the Pulse that makes the Papered Awareness fold and bend, corrugate and reach.

Each to their own, and own is the ow of N, or the needled perspective of sewn, the sew of N, and so on and so on.

The appliqué of stitch, which keeps you together and not falling apart.

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Letters and numbers are the seeds of planting and the sewing of seeds allows the Garden to ower. The Flow Er is the one able to pro noun Ce consciousness of the Self made Real and Whole in its parts.

Who are you? What butter y are you becoming? Between the Owl, the Pussycat, and the Butter y, someone is wise beyond comparison, and to compare yourself to someone or something else is too limiting to add up to more than nonsense.

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The Mycelial threads are rooted in the grounded nature so natural, that you could throw a seed out and it’d nd its way Home. Both story and seed are the same, both unpeeling their outer for the inner, and grow up from down.

We speak to the letter and the letter folds into us and we become the N of Nine, we become the I of the N of Nine, and we roll into the E as the end proceeds, completion of the folded rhythm is tapped out and the sounds of the tap give a cadence that the body needs.

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Whether we are 4 or 5 or 75, we still need the cadence of the tap of Nine. We fold our perspective into the letter count of completion, and we no longer wonder why we have to be who we are.

The nature of acquisition amounts to many things, and it reclines softly in its place. We are cut from the river of the Nine, and the Nile later became its name. As the winter folds in around us, we see the bared of trees and the swallow of green, as the black and white begins to cut through the deep Earth.

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So down deep, that the quickening of Nine is hidden and not seen, but its heard and its tapped into place by the acceptance of what is.

The current of struggle is given a boat to ride out in, so it can free up its close proximity and become more of a much larger stream. We are no longer credited with failure, but focus instead.

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The tiny pinpoint gesture of recognition begins to cut through and we seed our rst beginnings. We climb the Nine, we climb the Six, we climb the Ten, we climb the Three, and all unites the legs of power.

When the tryptic mold sheds out it full identity, we begin to see more clearly what was not shown to us before.

The potency of gures relate themselves to a new and unfamiliar layout.

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The prospect of return is in the number of Nine, and cuts out its sliver threads to become Gold. The Golden ticket threaded through, like tiny golden papers from chocolate intensities.

The straight forward method is often used at this time, but not today, because the measure of what is needed is more under the scale of a weighing factor. The motionary awareness gives a forgiving resemblance of allowance.

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When we begin to remember that we are not really here for what we thought we were, and start looking for our notes that possibly we had dropped along the way to Grandmother’s house, we become more guarded with the very nature of our own Valkyrian sensing.

We take a pick, we make a choice, we listen to the ground, we count the heart beats, we smell the rivers and stones, and feel the heat on our backs, and then we know from a very grounded view what we forgot.

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Allowing no corruption of the truth that was told, we corrugate our meaning into many folds of distinction, so we can relay out the directional code and speed.

Welcome is the wheat of the shaft, and we realize that there is value in every piece. Much has been thrown away that was to be saved, so when we are in a hurry we save everything.

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Every tiny little bit is made of purpose, and is listened to.

Proven is the spice and the spice is the proo ng stone of power. Click click click, the spiral rolls out, and the odorous a ection is melted into the speed.

Wrench wrench wrench, it is attached to the belt, and the Valkyrian hypnogogic state of being carries the weight of the connection, and we allow the speed to click in, the eyes to move about, and the frontage to pick up the weight, the weight of motherhood, the weight of feeding, the weight of carrying, the weight of nursing, the weight of nutrition, the vessel of refreshment, when the heat is too hot to breathe with ease.

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Nine, Nine months, Nine, Nine years, when the trunk rolls out. Nine minutes, when you are clocking under water.

Nine moments, when you are counting to Ten. Nine clocks, when you are Alice. Nine paradigms when you are guessing it right. Nine tales, in the house of generations.

Clock yourself, mark yourself with numbers, count your minutes, count your toes, count your ngers, this is what is allowed. Learn to count, as your body becomes more numbered than you realize.

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You are more complete than you guessed, and you can rest into the ready of almost. You have not been forgotten, nor your name, nor your little baby ngers and toes. You have not been forgotten, even though your eyes were tiny once, and your tongue did not know how to speak.

All your folding members are counted for in your conversation corrugation, and you are a Nine pointed star, who has not forgotten what the Nine is about.

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Congratulations on your Nine pointed corrugations, and your Nine pointed conversations. Promise yourself you will never point to Ten, if you haven’t become the pointed Nine.

Nine tails, of the of the Nine tales, of the Cheshire Cat, you are between the letters and numbers, and upside down to the right side up as you oat free of limitational drifts.

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You correct your course, and the coarse is led away, stripped of its meaning, and this allows you to nd the key that opens the door, and shrinks you so small, that you become invisible to the mirror you held in your hand.

You no longer mirror, or are mirrored to, you simply are, and all that is, is simply itself, getting to be itself, as you yourself are nally able to be. None of this adds up, but if you subtract the none sense from the sensible, and mix the two together…..

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Precise is the conjecture, and brilliant are the alchemical possibilities, probabilities, and rabbit lucky footprints to follow. Whole is the Portal that leads everywhere at once and between.

All of these seeds have already been planted and we have engaged in the most ridiculous of stories, and yet, there are none others to tell, because this is the story that is before us, and we are all stepping in this together.

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We have mapped and mapped for years and years, and the land of the inner realms, with its endless and vast space, is one to reckon with, we are reckoned with meaning and the meaning is spot on.

The arrow is split, the realm is marked, and the ability to navigate has come from the years of following the stars from; planet to planet, galaxy to galaxy, solar system to solar system, universe to universe.

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Well versed are we in this travel, well read are we in all its signs, signals, and alchemical combinations. It is potent, powerful, and exact, yet lled with ease, generosity, and compassion.

As the Long Spoon reaches across the table, know that even Alice has sat with us, and though there was indeed and Red and White Queen, there was also a Green Queen, created from the Blue of Skye and the Yellow of the Sun.

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Ask Alice, she knows, and now you know, too. Your Papered Awareness is folded in 2, and the 7 of your realization counts you lucky, as a rabbit that got away.

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Conclusion: Unpinning the cap of writing, we member up our count, and begin to slide through all the numbers like a rede being threaded through a needle of Nine.

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Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Hake, Clarity

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