The poem that is represented in this chamber painting can be read in the Mixed Media gallery for Zyanya Chamber 2. It is entitled The Guardian. After writing the poem and asscociating it with Zyanya Chamber 2, I felt the poem needed to be part of a new piece. Sometimes visions gestate between the heart and mind as if they are playing ping pong. It was several years after I wrote the poem that I felt certain of how it could be represented in a painting. I believe you can decode this one without my help
The mood of Chamber 13 is of the mystical realms from which we derive. This piece deals with very ancient energies of origin and destiny. It is the divine blueprint in abstracted form.
This painting (Aadhya Chamber 12) is symbolic of activation and the tensions that can be brought on once an individual is activated through their Wholeness Navigator. The color frequencies in this painting play a significant role in defining these tensions. There is the pull from the higher frequencies, and the roots of the old belief systems tighten. The Sovereign Integral (inside the main figure) beckons beneath the noise of the outside world.
Chamber 11 of the Aadhya site is a symbol of transmission: the outbreath of a human instrument to transmit the higher energies that they receive as an outcome of their application of Quantum Pause (or other breath work).
Chamber 24: Broken The frightened populace edges closer; a herd of ominous calamity, yawning at the wing-full sky. Switching tails rally against the flies. Predators creep in the borderlands. Some with bodies, some with only a watermark. A tightening spiral brings tension. Tension brings wear. Wear brings breakage. Breakage brings repair.
Healing is innate, if allowed. If a space is made, if a time is given, if an open mind receives; healing can step in. The graveled crowds gnaw on the bleached bones of sanctimony, hoping to find a nutrient path to accrete wisdom. 如果允许的话， 治愈是天生的。 如果留出一个空间， 如果给予时间， 如果开放的头脑愿意接收 治愈就可以介入。 碎石般的人群 啃噬着伪善的漂白骨头， 希望找到一条增长智慧的 滋养之路。
Wisdom is not found in the herd. Wisdom is not found in the book. Wisdom is not found in the path. Wisdom is not found in the other. 牧群中找不到智慧。 书中找不到智慧。 路径中找不到智慧。 智慧也不在他人身上。
The mind’s scrapbook interior hoarded dreams and desires like the pantry of a billionaire. But where is wisdom on the shelf? 头脑的剪贴簿里面 储存着梦想和渴望 就像亿万富翁的储藏室。 但是货架上的智慧在哪里？
Wisdom is healing. It is what recognizes and repairs the broken. 智慧是治愈。 它能识别和修复 破损。
Notes Wisdom is healing. This is the simple theme of Zyanya Chamber 24 painting. 智慧是治愈。这就是“赞雅第24”室绘画的简单主题。
If I am free then walls do not exist. There are no iron bars that cross windows. No tape to seal lips. There are no wars that settle scores or torch the night in high-pitched wails. 如果我自由了， 那么墙就不存在。 就没有窗户上的铁栏杆。 没有胶带封住嘴唇。 没有战争 解决宿怨 或让夜晚 充满凄厉的哭声。
If I am free then not a single child is hungry for love. There are no whispers of hate or glorification of handwritten fates. 如果我自由了 那么就没有任何孩子 缺乏爱了。 没有仇恨的低语 也没有用笔书写的 命运的颂歌。
If I am free then there is no path. Beliefs hurl their decrees, dissolved in the aftermath of an untold foretelling. 如果我自由了 那就没有道路了。 信仰抛出它们的裁决， 消融在一个不为人知的 预言的余波里。
If I am free then so are you, even if we are transferred to the bottom shelf of the universe. We remain the selfless self, un-imprisoned in the unreal. We are stewards and shepherds of this recognition. Purpose penned. 如果我自由了 那么你也一样 即使我们被转移 到宇宙的 底层搁板上。 我们仍然是无私的自我， 没有被囚禁在虚幻中。 我们是这种认知的 管家和牧羊人 目的已被写好了。
If I am free then walls do not exist. There are no iron bars that cross windows. No tape to seal lips. There are no wars that settle scores or torch the night in high-pitched wails. 如果我自由了， 那么墙就不存在。 就没有窗户上的铁栏杆。 没有胶带封住嘴唇。 没有战争 解决宿怨 或让夜晚 充满凄厉的哭声。
If I am free then not a single child is hungry for love. There are no whispers of hate or glorification of handwritten fates. 如果我自由了 那么就没有任何孩子 缺乏爱了。 没有仇恨的低语 也没有用笔书写的 命运的颂歌。
If I am free then there is no path. Beliefs hurl their decrees, dissolved in the aftermath of an untold foretelling. 如果我自由了 那就没有道路了。 信仰抛出它们的裁决， 消融在一个不为人知的 预言的余波里。
If I am free then so are you, even if we are transferred to the bottom shelf of the universe. We remain the selfless self, un-imprisoned in the unreal. We are stewards and shepherds of this recognition. Purpose penned. 如果我自由了 那么你也一样 即使我们被转移 到宇宙的 底层搁板上。 我们仍然是无私的自我， 没有被囚禁在虚幻中。 我们是这种认知的 管家和牧羊人 目标已确定。
Such an odd word, as if anything alive is complete. Everything is in motion, shapeshifting its way to new expressions. All to assemble at the mysterious attractor. We are untethering and reattaching simultaneously. Our experience is to change, modify, reconstitute, always to move on to the expression of our next. 完成。 好古怪的一个词， 仿佛任何活着的东西都是完成了的。 一切都在运动， 变形为新的表达方式。 全都集合在 神秘的吸引子那里。 我们在解除束缚的同时 重新连接。 我们的经验是转变， 修改， 重组， 总是移动到 我们的下一个表达。
Unless you draw the circle of time around a life, marking changes, completion does not exist. We are the cast that changes the stage, the script, the story’s arc, down to the final, immutable page.
除非你画出围绕在一个生命 周围的时间之环， 记下变化， 否则完成是不存在的。 我们是改变
舞台， 剧本， 故事情节的演员， 一直到最后不可改变的一页。
Until we are complete, there is no completion. 在我们完成之前， 没有完成。
Following fires that bore into the land like storms driven by lightning, I see horizons cast deep, flung by powerful, emboldened arms. There, in that crease that folds mystery, I can see a future where ten billion differing beliefs disintegrate into one. Where the inside-out clarifies why slavery can finally die. 跟随席卷大地的火焰， 象被闪电驾驭的风暴，
We have been wrapped in slavery since time was born on earth. We accept the husk, as if it was us. The fools gold of spirituality. The dazzle of light. The glamor of angelic hosts. The vanity of hierarchies undisclosed. Its recipients; love-obsessed people with u-shaped mouths. 从时间在地球上诞生伊始。 我们就被奴役了。 我们接受外壳， 仿佛它就是我们自己。 灵性的愚人金（黄铜矿）。 炫目的光。 天使寄主的魅力。 等级制度不为人知的虚荣心。 它的接收者；痴迷于爱的 长着u形嘴巴的人们。
The sovereign is integral. It is not cut-off from the motherload. The pocket of gold spreads everywhere. There is no mine to find. We are it. There is no have/have not. There is only illusion. The program. The lie. 主权是不可分割的。 它不是从母版切下来的。 金子到处都是。
没矿可找。 我们自己就是金子。 没有有/没有。 只有幻象。 编程。 谎言。
The truth? Well, that is worth finding. But it is underneath and beyond and invisible. It is cloaked and silent. It dreams us awake, and nightmares us asleep. It runs when we walk and walks when we crawl. It seems to tease like a harmless want. The truth is, it’s clear like perfect glass. An oasis or mirage? Somewhere in that midpoint, intoning threats of sin. 真相？ 是的，它是值得寻找的。 但是它在之下和之外， 还看不见。 它是隐藏和静默的。 它会让我们从梦中醒来， 也会让我们在噩梦里沉睡。 它在我们行走时奔跑 在我们爬行时行走。 它似乎在嘲笑 仿佛一个无害的念想。 真相， 如同完好无损的玻璃一样清晰。 绿洲还是海市蜃楼？ 在那正中央的某个地方， 吟诵着罪恶的威胁。
We stand at the perfect glass, watching the tarnished gift of mortality. We delete love in every judgment and blame. Yet love remains the only game. 我们站在完美的玻璃前， 看着死亡的晦暗礼物。 我们在每一个评判和指责里 删去爱。 然而爱依然存在 唯一的游戏。
The heart steers the mind to unity and connection. The mind steers the heart to the red veils of separation. Whose hands grasp the wheel? It is called the seat of freewill for a reason. 心引导头脑 到一体和连接。 头脑把心带向 分离的红色面纱。 谁的手抓着方向盘？ 它因为某种原因
被称为自由意志的座位。
笔记 我将让你自行解码。（提示：这首诗会有所帮助。）
Notes I will let you decode this one on your own. (Hint: the poem will help.)
