Suicide is not an Option, Part 2: Finding the Answer

Some Background …

When I left Kansas City on January 8, 2005, I did so with a great amount of trepidation enhanced by doubt. I was at the same time sure that it was the right thing to do. Perhaps that was because from a 3D point of view it was nuts while from a soul-life blueprint perspective, it was right on. To do the work and spiritual growth with Jelaila and our beloved Nibiruan Council I had given up much. I had turned over my company, Pacific States Construction, to two men who promptly destroyed it beyond repair by mismanagement and hidden agendas. All the people who worked there were connected to me as if they were family. So, as I’ve written before, this was a very difficult emotional loss as well as the loss of a very lucrative income. I used up the money that I was able to salvage to buy the 3D Nibiruan Council from its previous owners (who did not include Jelaila).What I had left I used getting married to Jelaila, traveling back and forth from my home in Palos Verdes and hers in Kansas , and finally moving Jelaila to California where we would settle into just the one residence. This, as she has written, was a very emotionally difficult move for her and a huge adjustment from what she innately felt was the safety of Kansas City and the Heartland to the wilds of what she liked to call “The Land of Fruits and Nuts.”

Both of us knew that this fear and discomfort could not be rooted in 3D because she found herself living in a fabulous community with 180 degree views of the ocean, setting sun, and city lights at night. It was a very safe neighborhood high atop a peninsula jutting out into the ocean away from the intensity of Los Angeles and its many suburbs, and yet close enough to access easily the many benefits and services that LA had to offer. All this difficulty and pain of her unhappiness acted as a catalyst to bring forward the issues hidden away in the baggage that each of us had brought with us into the marriage. That provided us with the need to use all our skills to move forward together as well as the impetus to bring in and develop the remaining 5 Keys of Compassion. While Jelaila toiled at creating a new website and writing the newsletter that we published at the time as well as writing the Keys, I worked at keeping us financially afloat by selling everything that I still had left, in order to generate the funds to keep us going. We were soon three months behind in our rent and two of our three cars had been repossessed. EBay became my best friend as I liquidated my various collections of Franklyn Mint cars and other items dating back to childhood. More than once I found myself parked in my exotic sports car at the local market counting my cash to know how much I could spend so I wouldn’t get caught at the checkout with insufficient funds. Quite a difference to my normal lifestyle of not usually even thinking about what I was spending! Even with all the fear that this brought up, the humor of the situation did not escape either of us.

The Move to KC

At the end of two and a half years, we ended up moving to Kansas City, MO. By this time Jelaila had integrated her fear of being in California and had become quite comfortable there in a land where she had fresh flowers all twelve months of the year. While I had no desire to leave California, I hoped the move to Kansas City might bring some peace from all the shame and humiliation that I felt from the inglorious loss of my company and the financial collapse that left so many people that I cared about in pain. It did not.

The four years that I spent in Kansas City were even more depressing and difficult, but as our guide Devin asked more than once, “Whoever told you it would be easy?” As Jelaila has already written, much multidimensional work was accomplished with many people from all over the world, which was, of course, our main purpose in being located within the heart chakra of the country. This is a location that makes it easier for our guides to utilize the templates that we all created and connect them to the grids around earth, but that information seemed of little long term solace for a dragon in the plains. The entire time we looked forward to a reward at the end. We were never promised anything but we felt it must be coming because of all our sacrifices, hard work and pain…not to mention all the great results of our workshops and the resulting templates we were told about by our guides.

Back to California

So that’s just a quick summary of why leaving Kansas City that chilly January morning, almost penniless with our business struggling, felt terrible and necessary at the same time. Our big reason to move to KC, so our 9D son in her 3D body could find his/her way back to us had been unrealized. We were deeply in debt with bills and past due taxes looming, and now I was to leave to accomplish what my 9D father, Cobazar had advised, “The work that I really came here to do.” From my perspective as a man here in 3D, it doesn’t get much worse, as I felt I was dumping all this added responsibility on Jelaila to do. On top of it all, I was moving in with a friend, Josephine, and neither of us really new why or how I would, in my disturbed state of mental health and physical deterioration, ever be able to create any income to get Jelaila and me out of this mess. For by now I was quite overweight, my blood pressure had jumped to a new high, my body hurt all the time and I was exhausted as well.

Marin County, where Josephine lives, is a beautiful part of California just north of the Golden Gate Bridge. It’s very green with many trees and surrounded by magnificent ocean almost every direction that one looks. It also has astounding bridges weaving their way across one bay or the other. It’s very high end on the cost of living scale, however, which bumped up my anxiety even more than it was. In addition, before arriving , I could not believe how prices had soared while I was in KC, which was an immediate trigger for me. I felt more deeply disturbed, sure that something was very wrong.

Now I admit that Jelaila and I are neat freaks but Josephine suffers from no such affliction. She’s a very “let it go where it lands” kind of gal. This was a real struggle for me, living in what I perceived to be chaos. Cobazar told me that one of the lessons for me to learn in California was “to flow” and clearly that lesson had begun. Planning and organization were out the window here! No amount of effort or suggestions on my part could alleviate this condition. To make matters even more interesting, she was in the beginning stages of a remodel of her house, so boxes and other stuff was strewn everywhere. Yet the entire time that I was there no work was performed. In addition this normally attractive, focused lady was very scattered and embroiled in a relationship with a drug addict boyfriend and also feuding with her 16 year old son. The good news is that I felt that even in my state of physical and emotional distress, I could at least be of assistance in these two areas. Josie, as I like to call her, is like a younger sister to me, so being the big brother to her in these areas was a normal role for me. Over the weeks she did make some changes and set things right in her life and got back on track. On the other hand, being with me in such a mentally disheveled state was a real stress for both of us and embarrassing to me. I felt that way because I had no money and no real income as a result of my own efforts , and I was certain that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Later she would admit to me that the change in my persona was disturbing to her as well. It was a tough 7 weeks.

A Meltdown in Berkley

A typical example of how things went occurred when she asked me if I wanted to accompany her to her singing lesson on a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon. It was located across one of the great bay bridges over in Berkley. As was usual for me, I felt like most of my energy was being utilized to just maintain my sanity that day. Overwhelmed with disproportionate fear and anxiety, I did my best to be a pleasant companion and maintain some semblance of a conversation as we raced along the California freeways. When we arrived, she suddenly said goodbye and told me to have fun and be back in two hours to pick her up. I thought I would just be sitting somewhere listening to her lesson, I guess, so I was immediately hit with a feeling of overwhelm and panic. I didn’t know where to go or what to do and I didn’t feel capable of figuring it out or doing it once I did. Oh, and whatever it was it couldn’t cost anything. After a few minutes of deep breathing and getting control of my mind again, I decided to find my way over to the Berkley campus and take a walk to see the famous school. This seemed like a good decision, but so goes the illusion. Being the weekend there were plenty of empty parking spaces along the main road that winds through the university so I parked, noting carefully that there were no parking signs. So I felt safe parking where I did. Safety can be an illusion, too.

Now this campus is beautiful and interesting plus the weather was great. What a perfect setting for a meltdown! The feelings of fear bordering on panic within me easily gained momentum as they seemed so totally unreasonable and just plain wrong, no matter what I told myself. I was positive that everything was not as it should be. I forced myself to keep walking and concentrate on the landmarks, so in all this terror, I wouldn’t get lost on top of everything else. I could feel my heart pounding away in my chest and my ears were ringing. After a time of walking around like this I started to notice various parking signs, especially those stating that visitors must obtain a permit to park on campus. It then dawned on me that streets in institutions like this one often have the parking restrictions at the beginning of the street, not constantly reposted along the street as do the cities…a little bit of 3D reality that was missing in my memory at the time that I parked. How could I forget that? I couldn’t believe it, as I felt the fear intensify. Now I’d end up with an expensive ticket that I could not pay. All this seemed to amp up the feelings of terror and panic as I forced myself to focus on the lovely campus and just keep walking…and, oh, try not to get lost.

It was about fifteen minutes later that I started noticing that many of the parking signs threatened the towing of the perpetrator’s car and this almost sent me over the edge. If only I could’ve found an edge to go over. Part of me raged inside to be dead and free of this insanity of incompetence and hopelessness, absolutely certain that I should be different and functioning as I used to with multi-tasking and efficient abilities. After all, I used to run my own company. I had no idea what I’d do if Josie’s car was gone or how in the hell I’d ever even explain this mess to her. Plus she’d be angry, and rightfully so, which just added to the panic.

One Can Get Through It

This pattern of fear, terror and panic was a constant companion during my first few months in California. I just needed to let it be there and do my best to keep doing whatever it was I was doing in the 3D world which, like now, was often fairly mundane. Fortunately, no one on the outside could see what I was experiencing on my inside, and of that I had some awareness, and I fought hard to hold onto that perception. Thinking about this perspective…”It’s all in my head, the rest of the world is really OK”…helped stabilize me so I could keep going. The other thing that helped me work my way through these difficult times was, when I could, talking to someone about them. There were only a few people with whom I felt safe to talk about such matters and who also knew enough about what was really going on, that these shattering, disconnected from the 3D reality experiences are often involved when creating a template. Creating a new template actually brings forth such happenings as described above. In other words, once again, all was as it’s supposed to be. If only I could hold onto that. These friends were certainly a blessing. Most of the time it was just hold on and survive, one day at a time…sometimes one minute at a time.

When, finally, I rounded the corner that brought Josephine’s car into my view, I cheered inside to see it actually still parked where I had left it. It had a parking ticket on the window which only a few minutes ago felt like it would be a disaster to get and now seemed like a great gift! I actually feel a little embarrassed writing this all out here for anyone to read, as it still seems so crazy. But I don’t feel crazy like that anymore so I guess anyone who gets this way can at least know that one can get through it.

Still severely shaken from my experience of touring the University of Southern California at Berkley, I managed to steer the car somewhat safely back to pick up Josie. As she talked away about her singing lesson experience, I could only sit there in the car listening with tears welling in my eyes feeling so foolish that I couldn’t even think about telling her what I’d been through. I was not able to speak to her about it for three days, and when I did it was a big emotional release that made me feel like some kind of big baby in her presence. I knew then that if I hadn’t gone mad yet, I’d surly not be able to cope at all soon and then madness must be right around the corner along with a free lock up in the cuckoo’s nest.

How About Some Balance?

I always strive for balance, a two way street, in any relationship or deal. My perspective on the subject is that that is how the universe is designed to work – an equal exchange of energy between all parties involved. During my stay with Josephine, the two of us spent many hours talking about certain stuff going on in her life. I hope my shared point of view on her relationships with her boyfriend at the time and with her son was of value to her as much as her contribution of a place to stay, food to eat and her car to drive was to me in launching this adventure/template/healing in California. She did tell me recently that since getting out of what she came to recognize was a destructive relationship with the boyfriend, she was once again more focused on her priorities and is doing much better in her life in general. She told me that she and her son are doing well also. While this was told to me months after my departure, it still felt good to hear and validated that my intention of energy exchange was fulfilled, even during all that insanity. It’s really pretty amazing, having just written about the Berkley Meltdown, to now remember and write about those deep meaningful conversations, and then realize that they both took place in the same reality and time frame, and involved the same me. What a contrast in experiences. This extreme contrast in functioning ability was typical of my entire stay in San Rafael where Josie lived, and would faithfully repeat itself in Los Angeles.

An Invitation and a Trip Home

It was somewhere around week 6 at Josie’s that I started feeling like I was done there, although I didn’t know what that really meant. I had been wondering why I ended up in Northern California instead of the LA area which is home for me and where I have many friends and family. I’d been talking on a regular basis with a close friend in LA named Patricia during my time in California. One day she made a point of offering me her extra bedroom as a place to stay in LA. She even offered to drive to Josie’s house and pick me up! Obviously a new door was opening, but to what neither of us knew. Later she would tell me that no sooner had these words extending that invitation escaped her mouth, then she felt compelled to slap her hand over her mouth to stop them from coming out! We would both find out why later, of course. We’ve been good friends for over 20 years, but we’ve also been combative at times. I think we both sensed correctly that we’d opened a door that was supposed to be opened, but the path would be steep and full of sharp rocks for both of us. She wanted to take it back and I wanted to pass altogether, but neither of us could do so. Somehow, we knew better than to pass up this somewhat scary opportunity. Fate was upon us.

By the time she arrived at Josephine’s I was more excited about the trip and returning to the LA area than I was apprehensive. Patricia had planned quite a journey down the amazingly scenic California Route 1 which meanders along an astounding coastline showing off some of California’s greatest natural sights. We stayed for two nights at her favorite bed and breakfast with a host and hostess that throw open their doors to weary travelers with an enthusiasm that only comes from loving what you do. It is in Cambria, a delightful town with friendly people. With a great effort from its leaders it has managed to stay true to its origin and has staved off the modern day development that has so altered many other areas. While I struggled mightily with accepting this terrific gift from Patricia, we did have a great time even though my terror (of what I knew not) lurked right beneath my surface.

Adjusting to not living at home for weeks at a time, where I had the comfort of familiarity and the freedom to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, I found to be very stressful. As it would turn out, it would be months at a time. One of the ways that I stabilized myself through the panic and pain that I felt in Kansas City, was I meticulously set up my environment so that it really worked for me. From my perspective, Jelaila and I were relatively comfortable as a couple living in the same space almost 24/7 since we had developed a set of agreements whereby we knew what to expect from each other on a daily basis. That part was very comfortable. And even though my duties in running the Nibiruan Council as a business were well below my skill levels, having and performing those duties was another way I held myself together. So the stress of leaving all this behind for what felt like a semi-useless existence at Josephine’s and Patricia’s was building within me.

Felines everywhere!

So now here I was arriving at another house owned and controlled by yet another female whom I recognized had the same basic patterns as my wife, Josephine and, of course, my mother. In fact, I could see Josie and Patricia both as felines as is my beloved wife. Why was I not surprised?

I found my room to be comfortable enough, although I must confess the awkward daybed with its metal rails was a real drop off from the Cambria queen bed. What can I say? When you’re spoiled, you’re spoiled. Now I’m somewhat of a minimalist, preferring few items in my environment and an uncluttered place in general. My dear Patricia, however, is a collector of many things and has fervently utilized every inch of her space that she has in order to store and display all her things, even building additions on to her house which she has completely filled up. I could feel the stress building within me as she began explaining what seemed like to me at the time, a million details of what living here was to be like. As her expectations and requirements poured forth, I could feel my brain going numb and my anxiety rising. I just wanted to get unpacked and lie down.

In addition, Patricia is an avid environmentalist, which I admire. Every bit of what she uses is to be handled and disposed of in a certain way, much of which involved knowledge that I didn’t even have before I moved here. In addition, there was another new kitchen to become familiar with. In that kitchen lived two beautiful but highly strung (like me?) pure white Alaskan dogs, one younger, one senile and both spoiled. Summer, the younger of the two, also had a very loud, piercing bark that could blow the nerves right out of my system.

Now, I know that in normal 3D life all this might be a bit stressful, but certainly manageable. For me in my “barely hanging on” state, it felt overwhelming and like it was crushing the life out of me. In addition, even though I had told both Josephine and Patricia of my mental and physical states ahead of time before either of them invited me to stay with them, I now realize that neither of them had the capacity to know what to expect. Who would? Plus both had experienced me for many years as a strong man, a leader and successful businessman. Who and what was this pitiful creature that looked like someone they knew and loved, but indeed was only a shell of their past experience of me? How were they to relate to me, what were they to say, and not say? None of us knew, and all we could do was to do our best to be totally honest with each other and make agreements on how we would handle the details of living together. It’s interesting to note as well that neither of them had any experience in creating a template and what that involved…so no sense in me even trying to explain that.

A Word about Patterns

As you probably already know, we all have patterns of behavior passed on to us by our parents. Most of these patterns, I believe, tie in to patterns from past lives on this and other planets. In addition, for some of us, some of these patterns go even deeper and are brought forth from patterns associated with other galactic races in the universe of which we are part. These latter types of patterns are very ingrained and most difficult to change. Patricia’s most obvious pattern was to believe that nobody cares about her in a close relationship. Like both Jelaila and Josephine, her father with whom she was very close, one day stopped showing his affection and abandoned her to a less than stable mother. How could she feel cared about? She’s not been married or really involved with a mate for over 20 years.

My pattern that I repeat from my relationship with my mother is that if I be for me, bad things happen. In other words, it’s an ingrained belief system that demands that I must be for another before I can be for myself – a truly self destructive mentality. Intellectually I know that each of us must be for our true selves first and foremost before we can truly be of service to another – a kind of being for another, if you will. Apparently this healthy way of being is also not too well ingrained in our society because I notice that when flying the cabin attendants always explain to us passengers to be sure and put on our oxygen masks before we attempt to help another, even a child. Helping is one thing, but being goes much deeper. It goes to the core of my existence, and it is destructive at the core of my existence. When it is triggered, I become more focused on the wellbeing of another at the expense, although I don’t always know it at the time, of my own needs. Sometimes, even when I have the awareness, I’m really not sure. As I was trained by my mother to be a southern gentleman, it’s really even harder to know the difference … it feels good to play both roles, so what’s what? Also, it mostly doesn’t look like on the outside that I ignore my own needs, because most of the time I don’t. I’m very aware of my needs and take healthy steps to get them met, except…well, you get the idea. This only seems to be an issue with a woman who is in a close relationship with me. In my mind at a core level though, I unconsciously believe she’s more important than I am and has a right to be that supersedes my own. How can my inner child feel safe in living this reality? Obviously he can’t, and this is the life long struggle.

This pattern was triggered by Patricia while we were living together. She had what seemed to me a myriad of details for me to consider and live by in her house, and I couldn’t remember them all. When I did something that was against her wishes, she was triggered to believe that I really didn’t care about her, which triggered me to feel that no matter how hard I tried, it was just never good enough. These deep wounds are indeed the fuel for explosive conflicts which we certainly did experience. I have a feeling that many of you reading this know about these types of wounds from your own personal experience. Even setting agreements up to handle this didn’t fully work as her standards of keeping agreements, especially when triggered, were different than mine. In the best of cases when standards are the same, as like Jelaila and me, the pain of working through these types of ingrained issues is intense indeed, as I’m sure Jelaila will testify. When these standards of integrity don’t match up, life does not only become unbearable, but includes the sense that there is no way out of the pain and all is hopeless.

Origin of the Pattern

I have the memory of being in my mother’s womb in this lifetime, terrified to come out and at the same time terrified of staying within her. I can remember a human lifetime in which she killed me with an arrow shot through my heart. In addition I know that she considered an abortion during her pregnancy with me. It is also my understanding that when I was an infant she unconsciously inserted the pattern/mindset to be for her first or she would withhold all that was necessary for me to live – her mother’s milk. As a soul in a role she, as I had as a soul requested, recreated the pattern that needed to be broken that I described above. I believe that this pattern extends to and is deeply ingrained in the reptilian species. These are races where the females are the rulers and the males, while great warriors, serve the queen first and foremost. I’m sure female humans reading this can easily relate to this mentality as it is reversed here on this planet, at least in the humans.

The Ultimate Crisis

After weeks of living there together struggling with these two interlocking patterns, we erupted into an explosive argument one Saturday morning where the full wrath of our rage was directed at each other. In the midst of our argument, which was on the surface about housework of all things, the issue that I didn’t care enough about Patricia to do all the things that she expected spewed forth. Likewise my issue of be-for-her/be-for-me was triggered by what seemed to be her perfectionism and the perspective that no matter what I did it was never good enough. How can it be when the request is unconsciously tied in to that which threatens the life of someone? I can’t be good enough at anything when the better I am the less of me there is! After really going at each other for some time, she finally played what I call her trump card: she said to either do what she wanted or move out of her house…now. This power play was the ultimate trigger (no mother’s milk for me!) and I could feel my insides shaking even as I continued the argument with her accusing her of having no integrity and breaking her agreements. Since I had almost no money, no apparent means of getting any and no place to go, the perceived threat to my life was, while completely illogical in the 3D world, now reactivated to the core back into all the dimensions. It was further exacerbated because, at the time, Jelaila believed that I was not entitled to any money from our company because I was no longer working there, only she was. While she said she appreciated all that I had done to get her to where she now was, she felt financially I should be on my own, even while creating the template. I disagreed, but wasn’t really sure, and so that was part of the set up to the intensity of this incident as well. This added to the trigger that I was feeling from my argument with Patricia. It felt like these cats were clawing my eyes out!

So there it was for me to feel and integrate. As I did so, I also had the awareness that this whole thing was a set up and that it followed that there was also a huge opportunity here as well. That opportunity was freedom, a freedom that I, somewhat unbeknownst to me, had never had… the freedom really to be me. At that point, I knew in my heart that there was no way that I was going to submit to this, so I packed everything and off I went…to where I knew not.

Now I know, of course and as so noted above, that in the normal 3D world this episode would have appeared as just a boy/girl argument over a typical issue, housework and who’s doing what, all of little real importance or noteworthiness. But, in this situation, we both knew that the feelings that accompanied this little rage fest, were connected at a much deeper level. For myself, I knew it went way beyond this lifetime or any lifetime on this planet. I know that it went beyond any lifetime in a human form, back to my true roots which are, as I’ve written before, predominately reptilian. Emotionally none of this very valuable perspective seemed to have any effect on what I was now experiencing. However as I felt this deep internal terror, I also felt a tremendous freedom that emotionally conflicted with the state of extreme fear. I can now remember standing there in Patricia’s house arguing back and forth with her, knowing where I was and what was going on, feeling the terror and feeling relieved, free and excited at the same time! It was indeed a true multidimensional experience at a very intense level of feeling. By multidimensional experience, I mean using and experiencing beliefs and knowledge from two different realities/worlds connected emotionally and by contract.

As I loaded what I thought at the time was the last of my belongings into my borrowed car, I was aware that in a minute when I started it up, I had no idea really where to drive it. However, spurned on by this growing excitement connected to my newly acquired freedom, I found myself thinking about one of my favorite places. You may recall the cliffs at Palos Verdes as one of Jelaila’s haunts as she worked through her intense fears of being in California with me years ago. For me that area has always been a place of peace, a place where I can hike on a pathway that winds along near the edge of these massive faces of rock overseeing the magnificent Pacific Ocean. By the time I drove there, parked and completed my walk back to the car, it was Showtime California style as the sun began to inch its way to the horizon and proceed to drop off the face of the earth. Then, as I was feeling alone, lonely, exhilarated and totally free, my cell phone rang. It was my son, Greg, in Huntington Beach. As it would turn out, this is where I ended up and still am.

Suicide is not an Option, Part 1: History Repeats Itself

Suicide is not an Option, Part 3: Creating the Template

In service,

Jonathan Starr

Written August 2005