I adore both Adamus’ and Tobias’ graceful ability to explain things about me that I take for granted. Defined in the Teacher series, and revisited in Shoud 7 of the Wings series, gnost, or our “creative solution,” is the part of us that solves problems beyond the capabilities of the mind.
The explanations enabled me to realize that, for me, it is a form of “on demand intuition.” Gnost is one of those things I use when needed. For example, in high school, I would tell friends things about themselves or their future, and finish with, “I don’t really have a right to know that, but I do.” Usually, what I said would enable them to solve a problem they were facing. All too often, they would react by telling me that I was imagining things.
In fairness, I do have a “hyperactive” imagination, and have had it for as long as I can remember. Slipping into another world while walking down the road is something I remember doing when at four years old. And yesterday, while walking my dog. And later today, after I write this.
Can you imagine my delight when Adamus and Tobias described gnost, and later, when Adamus spoke of Imagination as a sense? All my life I’d heard that imagination wasn’t real and that the worlds I went to were only an escape from this one. Everything clicked when I heard that I was using a sense to experience other dimensions. It was like exposing the hidden gears of an old-fashioned clock.
With those explanations, I realized that gnost and imagination are an escape for me AND a source of deeper connection to this life. As Adamus said, “Human life is dull, grey.” Please allow me to share a couple examples of how gnost and imagination have splashed color on my experience.
“It’s nice to meet you, but I’m horrible at remembering names.”
Has anyone else ever said this?
I heard it so many times while in the Navy that it was almost expected that everyone you met wouldn’t remember your name. I broke the habit with gnost and imagination.
The first time my Commanding Officer asked me, “Who told you that?” I had to reply with, “I’m afraid I forgot his name, Sir. I’m terrible with names.” The sour look on his face spoke volumes.
And then it hit me! We ALL wore name tags. I had read the man’s name tag. That was an event in time that I could revisit. I imagined reading the name tag again, and the entire conversation came back to me.
“It was Chief Smith, sir,” I said, and then described him so my superior would know I wasn’t making it up.
After that point, I made a special point of stopping to read people’s name tags. Not to memorize them, but to solidify the act of reading them in case I needed to re-experience knowing the person’s name.
Before the concept of gnost, I still had to do little things to soothe my conscious mind’s fears of finding the right name, because I have met a lot of people in my life. One technique was to read each letter of their name tag and then associate it with something about them. S-smokey grey hair, M-mole on face, I-indigo aura, T-thick eyebrows, H-hard set to jaw, etc.
I do that now, but only for the fun of it. Secure in the gnost, I let the name come to me, no “fancy tricks” needed. In fact, sometimes it brings a whole lot more than that.
I listened to Shoud 7 of the Wings Series on Monday, March 26th. When Adamus said, “You wonder why you have issues with electronic devices—it’s because you’re learning to trust the gnost. Your own knowing.” [not an exact quote]
I laughed, thinking, “I never have issues with electronics.”
The next day, I was driving to a local writing group for the first time. I’d never been to the group before and had only a vague idea of where to go (building number on a college campus). I’d checked the map the previous night and remembered that the location was about thirty miles away.
I noticed that google maps had called in sick before leaving my house. As I walked to my car, the entire “episode” came to me via imagination and gnost. I would fight with the phone, all the while driving closer and closer to this “unknown” destination. Finally, the phone would work, and I’d discover I was right there.
I went through the drama anyway. At every crossroads, there was such mental confusion. Turn left or right? Go straight?
It became a game of tug-o-war. I’d stop at a red light and troubleshoot the phone –restart the app, reboot my phone. The light would turn green and I’d toss it on the passenger seat in disgust and keep driving. Traffic stopped on the highway. I shut the phone off and on again. Traffic cleared up and I drove on.
I knew most of the route. I only wanted clarification of how to navigate this unfamiliar part of the world. My spine would tingle every time I needed to make a turn.
I tried everything a person in the IT field can try to get the phone to work. That’s right! I tried. Which just brought me more of the same results. That is to say, my phone “Adamus smiled” at me and refused to work.
Things like this just don’t happen to me. I’m the guy that makes electronics sit up straight and eat their vegetables.
Finally, I parked my car, and had it out with my phone. By which I mean, I felt into what was going on. Which sounded something like, “WTF Kuriel!” (Kuriel is my Master Aspect, for anyone who doesn’t know me from Keahak VI).
I mean, I Allowed the Master.
He brought my attention to the drama. That tingling sensation I’d felt in my spine was the instant answer to every question I’d asked. My preoccupation with the phone enabled me to follow the feeling without thinking.
Adamus’ words (and, indeed, his collusion with Kuriel) came to mind. I laughed and remembered choosing to experience the drama. And then my phone started working.
I was less than a tenth of a mile from my destination. If I’d kept going, I would have spotted the campus and been able to turn left at the next traffic light. If I’d made that turn, I would have noticed that the only visible building to the left had the right building number.
Gnost had taken me right to where I needed to go. Doubt had shut it down—BUT acting despite the doubt helped retrain the human.
And now, I can say with certainty, “Getting gnosty is a lot of fun.”
Peter Sharrai, Master Kuriel’s human aspect, is a creative writer, poet, and cybersecurity analyst. And so much more. He says, “I’m in love with Shaumbra and I share those expressions on my blog at emkuriel.wordpress.com.” For direct communication, feel free to email him here or here.