I’ve had to explain the Crimson Circle to a lot of people and organizations lately. We’re working on a big, exciting new project, something I hope we can formally announce to Shaumbra at the October Shoud. (Sorry about that… don’t you just hate when someone says they have a secret but they can’t tell you? Then why do they even mention they have a secret? Mine isn’t a secret in the conventional “secretive” kind of way. It’s something that is being birthed and we [the CC staff and I] want to make sure it comes out head-first before make any announcements.)
I find myself dancing (figuratively, not literally) when people ask me about the Crimson Circle, not quite sure where to put my foot next. The other day I was working out in the yard when a new neighbor came over to introduce himself. The conversation got around to the typical, “So what do you do for a living?” Turns out that he’s a patent attorney who recently changed the direction of his profession. Now, instead of working on patents, he’s a marijuana attorney. Only in Colorado! Marijuana is legal in Colorado but it’s still illegal on a federal level. If you own a marijuana store in Colorado and sign a contract to buy a building for your business, the contract is worthless because in the eyes of the U.S. government, it’s an illegal business. You can’t have a legal contract for an illegal business. So how do you get anything done when nobody will engage in a contract with you, knowing the contract isn’t worth the (rolling) papers it’s written on?
Then the conversation turned to me. “And what line of work are you in?” the pot lawyer inquired. I checked for redness in his eyes to see if he partook in the essence of his profession but he appeared not to be high. I choked and stammered, and mumbled something like, “Ontological psychology.” He seemed relatively impressed. He probably thought I was a PhD trying to impress him, but I was only trying to distract him. The next day, while I was again working outside, he came by with a brochure for a medical conference in Boulder the following week. He thought I might be interested in attending because I was involved in…. well, he thought I was into oncology, the branch of medicine that deals with cancer. I had to fess up. “No sir,” I said, “I’m not a doctor. I’m in the field of ontological psychology. Ontology is the study of Beingness.” There was a blank look on his face, one of those WTF deer-in-the-headlight looks. “Beingness of what?” he asked, questioning me like an attorney would interrogate a criminal. “Oh, you know,” I replied, “like being in life, being my true Self, being aware…..” He interrupted before I could finish my ramble. “Do you believe in God?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I AM God,” I replied with just a touch of smugness. Time stood still for a moment and his deer-in-the-headlight expression morphed into “there’s no deer and no headlight” blankness. After a moment he smiled and handed me the medical conference brochure. “Check it out,” he said, “you might enjoy being around other doctors for a few days.” He hadn’t heard a word I said. Funny how energy works. Something had blasted him off to another reality for a brief moment because he didn’t want – or wasn’t ready – to hear my answer. He walked away saying, “Don’t work too hard, Doc. It’s pretty hot out here today.”
What is it that we do, and how do we explain it? Things would be so much simpler if I could just say, “I’m Catholic” or “I’m Jewish.” Nobody knows what that really means, but they nod their head in a vague form of understanding. But “I’m Shaumbra” just has no landing place in their reality. How do you explain something so simple, yet so very complex?
I recently met a woman who is heavily into New Age stuff. She knew I was a channeler, so she was slightly impressed when I introduced myself to her. She knew nothing about the Crimson Circle, although she was well-versed on St. Germain (but not Adamus Saint-Germain). “So darling, what-IS-the-Crimson-Circle?” she asked with an annoying-pause-and-emphasis-between-each-word. Given her background, I felt more comfortable talking to her than to the pot attorney, so I calmly replied, “We’re all about embodied enlightenment.” Without missing a beat she jumped in and declared, “Oh darling, I’ve been enlightened 5 times in this lifetime, and all of my past lives are enlightened. My soul mate had 3 enlightenments while he was in Bali last year. Don’t you just looooove getting enlightened??” Before I could get a word in edgewise, she rolled on. “My spiritual advisor said that I was a 12th dimension goddess. I’m actually a dolphin in a human body, just waiting to get back into the Great White Sea of Oneness!” At least she was so preoccupied with herself that I didn’t have to explain anything more about the Crimson Circle or what I do for a living. After about 5 minutes I excused myself under the pretense of having to attend my Icant-Takit energy therapy session with my Indian guru.
Then there was the financial institution I had to deal with recently, something that included filling out a lot of forms. It was easy to write in my name and address, driver’s license and social security number. But when I came to that dreaded space to fill in my profession, I broke out in a sweat. The blank box grew larger and larger, and let out a ghoulish laugh. The financial guy on the other side of the table asked if everything was okay. “I need a glass of water,” I wheezed out. “WHAT DO I DO?” I screamed inside myself. “WHO AM I? WHAT IS MY PURPOSE??” My shaking hands grabbed for the glass of water, I gulped, then wrote in the blank box: Marijuana Lawyer. At least that was easy to explain, especially in Colorado.
Linda and I were in Hawaii earlier this summer, having a meeting at the hotel to discuss future bookings for the Crimson Circle. The sales manager, a large native Hawaiian man asked, “Aloha. So what is it you do?” I looked over to Linda for strength and clarity, and she gave me that look that said, “You’d better not choke!” I took a deep breath and allowed. Then the answer just flowed out of my mouth: “I’m a Big Kahuna.” He stared at me for a moment and broke out laughing. “Yes, you are very tall… not just a Kahuna but a BIG Kahuna.” It turns out that Kahuna is a common island term that means, “priest, sorcerer, magician, wizard, minister, or expert in any profession.”
In fact, there are forty types of kahunas, including “Kahuna la’au lapa’au” (an expert in herbal medicine) and “kahuna haha” (an expert in diagnosing illnesses). It turns out that anyone can name themselves a Kahuna if they think they’re an expert in their field, be it a trade, healer or spiritual teacher. I think I’m going to bestow myself the title “Kahuna la’au’ ahmyo” (an expert in trust). The trick about calling yourself a Kahuna is whether or not other people believe it.
After years of stumbling and stammering when people asked me what I do and what the Crimson Circle is about, I’ve come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter what I say, because nobody (other than Shaumbra) wants to hear the real answer. Or maybe it’s that they just can’t hear the answer? I don’t mean that in a disparaging way, but perhaps the answer just doesn’t land on anything in their consciousness. Linda’s and my respective families don’t really get it, even though we’ve been doing this for 18 years. They know we travel around doing workshops, and that it’s something New Age-ish and weird, but other than that they really don’t want to know.
I’m OK with that… They really don’t want to know! There’s a certain comfort in realizing that people don’t want to know or hear. As harsh as the planet can be at times, it’s nice have a degree of invisibility. After all, we’re not trying to sell a belief system or get new members. Adamus made it very clear a while back that he doesn’t care if there are 5 or 5000 who allow their Realization. People come to the Crimson Circle when they’re ready to move from awakening into their mastery and embodied enlightenment; we can’t recruit them nor do we want to. That energy dynamic would be completely incongruent with Shaumbra and the work we do.
What is my job? What does the Crimson Circle do? It doesn’t matter, and most people don’t want to hear it. There’s a tremendous sense of freedom in being invisible. The next time someone asks, I’m simply going to say, “I’m the CEO (Chief Energy Officer) at I Am Unlimited. We research disruptive existential technologies and then see how they play out in everyday life. Our corporate slogan is ‘The life of Shaumbra is a life of changes.’ Or simply, “WTF?”