Lightworker. noun.What’s in a word?
The Arcturian Group recently defined it as:
“Many continue to think of lightworkers as being only those spiritually gifted individuals doing healing work, teaching, or channeling. This belief is a facet of the belief in separation for in truth everyone is a spiritual being and every activity becomes Lightwork when done with awakened eyes and ears.
“Lightwork is the natural effect of an evolved state of consciousness, one that without conscious effort can lift the energy of those receptive. Even the most seemingly insignificant of daily interactions are Lightwork when they flow on energy streams of true Love and Light.” (1)
What are other partial or complete synonyms? Women and men of action, karma yogis, sevaks, servants, stewards, boots on the ground, ground crew.
In every age, there have been lightworkers. The difference between then and now is that, then, there was an occasional Saint Francis/St. Clare here and an occasional Mahatma Gandhi/Mother Teresa there. (2) Now, there are lightworkers in every nation, all over the world, pulling the load, lightening it for some.
What distinguishes the lightworker, in my mind, is the impulse or desire to give. It could be a crust of bread. It could be a home. What is given is less important than the impulse to give to, to share with, to care for others.
The Arcturian Group calls it “the natural effect of an evolved state of consciousness.” That resonates with me. In the times I’ve been in bliss or transformative love, I’ve just wanted to give, to share with, to care for.
I expect that the higher we go, the more we become founts of love. I can see it in my imagination, my inner eye, creative thought.
Yes, yes, I see it. Higher dimensionally we are fountains of love and bliss.
The only intimations, the only clouds of glory we come trailing are those deep-seated feelings of truth being struck. At some deep-seated place I feel the truth of the assertion that we are, in our higher selves, fountains of love and bliss. It isn’t up to surface consciousness. It’s more a very deep feeling.
As I write, I’m uplifted into a blissful state and forget what I was saying, why I was saying it, everything.
Bliss is a game-changer.
Do I want to interrupt it by trying to remember what it was I was saying? Of course not. There’s nothing I seek beyond bliss.
This is it. I am here. Why would I stray?
(1) Yes, yes, they’re the same. Francis was Gandhi; Clare was Teresa. United again.