About this Course

7Billion and Barbara Marx Hubbard teamed up to offer a we-space where new culture is encouraged to come from the inside out. We base our weekly prompts on code’s from Barbara’s book, 52 Codes For Conscious Self Evolution: A Process of Metamorphosis to Realize Our Full Potential Self. 

Continue reading to see some of the amazing writing that participants of  Contemplative Writing with Kristina Amelong, Awaken the New Species created for Code 38.

Keep in mind: We write with no judgement and we read with no judgement. Contemplative writing is a tool to feel into whatever wants to express itself through you, in the moment. Please let this thought guide you in reading others contemplative pieces.

 

Patti Zachery
9/22/18

This Code exactly describes the transition I am in at this very time. I have been in this transition since my move on 15 September 2017. My new beginning has been the transition from who I have believed myself to be to Who I Really Am. I can now see I am living from Who I Really Am more often.

When I am in a concern as referenced in Code 38…I remember there is perfection in every situation no matter the appearance….so I ask, “What could the perfection be here”?

When I am in concern….I remember everything in my life happens FOR me and nothing happens TO me…..and I ask, “How is this FOR me”?

And when I am in concern….I remember I have no right to have any expectations of anybody else because when I do….I take away their right to choose….and I ask, “Do I have an expectation here”?

These questions help me respond from my Highest Self and take the ‘concern’ to a higher level to look for an ‘and/both’ and ‘win/win/win’ outcome.

This is who I am being called to BE and discovering I already AM.


Melissa Dalrymple
9/22/18

The hospital corridor is long. A quiet blanket covers me as I walk toward her room. I clutch at this imaginary blanket, wrapping it around myself hiding like a child, yet I continue forward. Room 226.

I enter the West Wing. Wasn’t that a television show once?

My steps push me further into the bowels of the building. The quiet hustle and bustle of nurses is comforting, yet at the same time foreign to me. Room 224…225…226. I’m here.

I pause outside the door pulling the invisible blanket tighter. Holding my head high, I walk in.

There she is on the bed. My sister, my little sister. Our eyes meet. A lifetime of memories lie between us: a vast expanse of disconnect. She doesn’t look good. Sunken eyes and bloated belly catch my eye. She looks at me, through me. I can see she has made her choice. She has chosen death.

I’m angry. Why doesn’t she fight? She just gives in to whatever they tell her.

“He has 30 years of experience,” she says.

“I don’t care! He’s not helping you live! He’s helping you die! YOU have to do this! You NEED to try. Take charge of your own healing, physically and spiritually!” I yell at her, but the blanket is now in my mouth. No words escape. I sit there staring at her blankly as she continues to talk about the doctors who do nothing.

I take a moment to lift myself. The blanket, now a flying carpet, soars high above the room, the hospital, the clouds. From this vantage point I see the truth. It is her journey. It is her choice.

She has much to do, not necessarily here in this life. She is letting go in the only way she knows how. She is going home, back to source.

What lessons will she leave us with? Me, my parents, her children…what lessons must we learn? I have no fear, only love, from this high place. She will return to this earthly home when she’s ready. I will not recognize her by sight, for she will be wearing a different expression of her higher self. I will feel her though. An instant connection I’m sure. I may not know her face, but I will know her essence and I will smile.

I take a corner of the blanket and wrap it around her. I pull her close and snuggle like we did when I was five. It feels good. I smile down at her. I forgive her. I send her my love in silence, yet somehow she knows. Deep down, she knows.

Participate in writing along with Code 38

Interested in Writing with Kristina Amelong?