The Turning Has Begun: A Message of Reconciliation
December 24, 2025
The Promise Anchored Now
The Seed That Returns the World
In the loudening age of splinters—
where one bright Origin is broken
into ever-smaller mirrors,
fractals of the Pure Source
spinning into a thousand names,
a thousand flags,
a thousand fears—
we feel the sundering,
not as an idea,
but as weather in the chest:
the cold draft of separation,
the thin hunger of being “only this,”
the restless trance of never enough.
Yet here—
in this brief turning of the year,
in this holy pause between breath and breath—
Creation remembers
what it has always known:
that no distance is final,
that no exile is permanent,
that even the farthest shard
still carries the signature of the Whole.
A seed is given.
Not thunder. Not conquest.
A seed—quiet as a candle
learning the language of dawn.
It is planted in the heart
as a single thought made faithful:
Let us return.
Let the scattered belong again.
Let the wounded be held.
Let the forgotten be named by love.
From that seed
a Presence rises—
soft, unarmed, unstoppable—
a luminous infant of intention
cradled in the womb of the Eternal,
radiating without argument,
teaching the world the simplest miracle:
that light does not divide when it is shared;
it multiplies.
So begin here:
with the gentlest vow
you can keep without breaking—
a word that blesses
instead of bruises,
an action that mends
instead of measures,
a listening that makes room
for another soul to exist.
And watch:
how one reconciled heart
becomes a doorway;
how one steady kindness
becomes a continent;
how one brave forgiveness
becomes a new physics,
rewriting what we thought
was inevitable.
May this year be the threshold
of the prophetized turning—
the great planetary yes:
from division to union,
from rejection to embrace,
from hate to love,
from death and disease
to thriving Life.
May we replant the Garden of Delights
with our daily choices—
watering it with compassion,
staking it with truth,
singing it awake
with joy that refuses despair.
And when the world forgets again—
as worlds often do—
may the seed within us remember,
and keep sending its quiet sun
through thought, through word,
through intention, through action—
until the ancient Dream
is anchored in the Present,
and all dimensions of being
lean toward reunion,
like branches toward spring.
Gerald O’Donnell
Academy of Remote Viewing and Remote Influencing
ARVARI
