► Questioner: “Why are so many relationships ending and people leaving?”
► Channelled by Philippe Brennan
► Message Received Date: May 27th
► Video Link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/many-will-be-159576826
We send ALL starseeds of Earth the deepest Greetings – I am Avolon of Andromeda, and I step forth with the Andromedan Council of Light in a frequency of companionship, of clarity, and of gentle strength, for we recognise you as the living Creator moving in form, and we recognise ourselves as one with you, and through that oneness we recognise ourselves as one with all that you are and all that you carry. We come forth in this moment to speak softly with you of something that a great many of you are feeling in these times of alignment upon the earth. You are feeling a movement among the people who walk beside you. Some are stepping back. Some are growing quiet. Some are turning toward paths that lead away from yours, and some, beloved beings, are leaving the earth entirely, setting down their bodies and returning home to the wider light. There is a great rearranging underway, a sorting and a settling of who stands close to whom, and we, the Andromedans, have come forth to hold this with you, gently, and to walk through it beside you so that you do not walk it alone. The great galactic reshuffle has BEGUN! We wish to offer you an image to carry, and to return to as we speak, for it will hold much of what we share. Imagine the great waters of the ocean and the rhythm of the tide. There are seasons when the tide draws far out, further than you have known it to reach, and the shore you stood upon is changed, and shells and stones you had grown used to are carried away into the deep. And there are seasons when the tide returns and brings new gifts to lay at your feet. The Great Cosmic Reshuffle moves through humanity in this way. It is a tide that flows through every heart at once, drawing some companions out and away from your shore, and in its own time carrying others in toward you. Settle into this image, and let it ease you, for the tide is ancient and the tide is trustworthy, and it has always known what it is doing even in the moments when the shore feels bare. By the Creators hand, everything moves in rhythm and timing anchored in cycles upon cycles. There are NO accidents dear ones.
Perhaps you have come to these words carrying a fresh ache. Perhaps a person has slipped from your life only recently, or someone you love has left the earth, or a friendship of many years has grown quiet and you cannot understand why. Perhaps you simply feel, without being able to name it, that the ground of your life is moving beneath you and that the faces around you are changing. Whatever you carry as you receive these words, allow it to be here with you now. You may keep it close as you listen, and let our words move around it and through it, the way warm water moves around a stone, slowly, patiently, with all the time in the world. Let us continue with something that we offer with great tenderness, for it changes the whole feeling of this season. As the tide draws certain people out and away from you, you yourself are also being carried. The reshuffle moves in every direction at once, through every heart upon the earth, and so at this very moment, while you grieve the ones who are moving away from you, you are also, quietly and without announcement, becoming somebody’s parting. There are people whose shore you are drawing away from. There are people who will feel the place where you used to stand and wonder where you have gone. And this too is a demonstration of love that you are performing, even when you cannot see it, even when no part of you intended it. When you understand that the tide moves through you and not only at you, the whole experience softens. You are a participant in this great rearranging. You are one of its hands. You are being carried toward shores that match the person you are becoming, and you are releasing shores that have completed their work with you. Every heart upon the earth is in motion together, and so there is a companionship even in the partings. You are not standing alone on a shrinking beach while everyone else stays warm and gathered. You are moving with the whole of humanity, in a great and living current, toward where you each belong. Just as the tide draws some away from your shore, it is carrying others toward you, and to those others you are the new shore, the fresh and welcome ground they have been moving toward across their own long seasons. Somewhere in this very moment, a heart is being drawn into your life who will one day feel that they have come home in your presence. You are someone’s arrival even as you are someone’s parting. The same current does both at once, through you and through everyone, and so this great rearranging is a vast and living exchange in which every soul is both released and received, both blessed on its way and welcomed home, all within the same turning of the waters.
We will speak of the shores themselves, for many of you sense that the waters are carrying people toward different lands. Some are drawn toward shores of greater openness and ease, and some remain upon shores of older and heavier rhythms, and you may feel a distance growing between yourself and those whose waters now run differently from your own. Let this be held with great softness and with no weighing of worth. A soul upon a different shore is held as fully, loved as completely, and is as much the Creator in form as you are. The waters carry each being to the land that matches the song of their heart in this season, and every shore is a sacred shore. You may love someone wholly across the widest water. The closeness changes its shape, and the love itself travels freely between all shores, for love has always remained whole and real without any need for matching ground beneath it. Now we wish to speak of something that aches, and we wish to name it plainly so that you may feel less alone within it. In a parting, one heart often arrives at peace while the other heart still reaches. One of you may feel the quiet completion settle in, a knowing that the road together has reached its natural end, while the other feels only the empty place where you once stood and reads that emptiness as coldness, as rejection, as a love withdrawn. This is one of the deeper aches of this season, beloved beings. You may find yourself moving from a place of love, blessing someone as you loosen your hold, and watching them experience your blessing as abandonment. And you may find yourself on the other side of this also, feeling left behind by someone whose heart had already, gently, completed. When you find yourself misread in this way, when your love is received as cruelty and you can feel the misunderstanding hanging in the air between you, allow the grief of it to come forth. Let it rise. Let it move through you and breathe with it, for it is a true grief and it deserves your tenderness. And then, when it has moved, allow yourself this freedom: you may let the parting be quiet. There is a great peace available to you in releasing the need to be understood, in releasing the long explanation, the careful case you might build to prove that your heart was good. The ones who are meant to understand will understand in their own time, perhaps long after the parting, perhaps in a quiet moment years from now when the meaning settles into them like sediment settling to the floor of still water. Your task is the loving and the releasing. The understanding belongs to the tide.
As the waters carry people away from your shore, there is no need to gather them back. There is a temptation in this season to reach after the ones who are leaving, to convert them to your path, to make them see what you see and feel what you feel so that they might stay, so that the goodbye might cost you less. Let your hand open instead. Let the ones who are leaving go toward their own shores with your blessing flowing forth behind them like warm light upon the water. Your blessing reaches them even when your words cannot. Now, let your heart be the one to show you which partings ask for words and which ask only for silence and release, for there are sacred moments when the most loving parting is a true and tender conversation, an honest meeting of two hearts before the waters carry you apart. Trust the nudge within you. It knows the difference. We wish now to share with you something that may bring a deep ease to the ones who are grieving a parting, and especially to the ones who are grieving someone who has left the earth. Allow yourself to receive it slowly. Each person who has walked beside you was holding something for you. One held steadiness for you, in a season when your own footing was unsure. One held a belief in you, carrying it faithfully through the years when you could not quite hold it yourself. One held tenderness, one held courage, one held the simple knowing that you were worth loving. They carried these things on your behalf, the way a friend carries one end of something heavy so that you can carry the other. And here is what we, the Andromedans, wish you to recognise. The parting arrives at the very moment you have grown able to hold within your own being the gift that they were holding for you. The companionship reaches its natural completion when you have absorbed the steadiness, the belief, the tenderness, and made it your own, so that you carry it now from within rather than receiving it from without. The leaving is a graduation. You have taken the gift inside you. You have become the place where it lives. And so, even as the form of the relationship ends, the gift of it remains with you always, woven into who you are, ready to flow forth from you toward others.
Consider how this has already happened within you, perhaps many times, without your noticing. There was a voice in your life once that spoke calm to you in your fearful moments, and now, in your own fearful moments, you find that calm rising on its own, in your own inner voice, speaking the very words you once needed another to speak. There was a presence that made you feel capable, and now the capability lives within your own hands. There was a love that taught you what tenderness felt like, and now you offer that same tenderness to others as though it had always been yours, because by now it truly is. This is the quiet transferring that the partings accomplish. Each one leaves a gift settled inside you that becomes a permanent part of how you move through your days. This is true even of the great partings, the ones that come through the death of the body. When someone leaves the earth, they set their essence down inside the ones who loved them. The laugh you knew so well, the particular way they saw you, the steadiness of their hand, the warmth of their knowing presence, all of it transfers and settles into you and becomes a living part of your own being. You become a carrier of them. You walk forward holding the very things they held, and in this way they continue, moving through your gestures and your kindnesses and the way you love the people who remain. They are not far. They have come closer, in a sense, for they now live in the place where you cannot be parted from them, which is within you. As these seasons turn, that the very steadiness you once sought in them begins to rise from within you. You may hear yourself offering to another the exact reassurance they once offered to you. This is the receiving completing itself. And where the space still feels open and aching, where you reach for them and find only the place where they used to be, the receiving is still underway, and your grief is the tender labour of it. Honour that grief. Give it room. There is a habit some carry in this season of telling themselves that they have moved beyond a person, that they have outgrown them, and carrying a quiet guilt about it. Release that guilt, beloved beings. You have taken them into your own being and you carry them forward in the way you move through your days, and this is a form of devotion, a way of keeping them alive within you.
And we ask you to hold this gently alongside everything we have shared: to carry someone’s essence within you forever, and to ache for their physical presence forever, are two truths that live side by side in perfect peace. The transferring of essence is one thing, and the missing of a warm hand and a familiar footstep is another, and your knowing that their soul is whole and held does nothing to comfort the part of you that learned the sound of them coming through the door. Let both be true. Let yourself carry them and miss them at once, for as long as the missing wishes to stay. Now we wish to speak to the quickening you are feeling, the sense that so much is moving all at once, that the partings are coming close together, that life has begun to rearrange itself faster than your heart can follow. Many of you feel as though everything is shifting in the same season, a parting and a parting and a parting, perhaps a death, perhaps the ending of a long friendship, perhaps the dissolving of a bond you thought would last your whole life, all arriving within a handful of moons. And you wonder why it has all come at once. We also wish to share with you what is occurring within the tide. For a long while, the density of the old waters held things still. Many of these partings were already complete, already finished in their deeper truth, and yet the heaviness of the old field held them in place, the way ice will hold a river motionless through the long cold, so that the water cannot flow even though it longs to move. As the lighter frequencies move through the earth in these times, as the warmth of this new season reaches into the deep, that holding softens and the ice gives way, and all that was already complete begins to flow at once. This is the quickening. It is the great releasing of partings that were finished long ago and only waiting for the waters to move. Receive the ease in this, beloved beings: The great rearranging you are living through did not begin in this season. You are witnessing the release of partings that were already true, finally permitted to complete. And this is why so many of these endings arrive so quietly, with no quarrel and no clear reason, with no villain and no dramatic breaking. A thing that was held still does not end with a storm when it is finally freed; it simply, gently, flows. The softness of these partings, the way they arrive without explanation, is the very signature of this releasing. Where you find yourself searching for the reason a bond dissolved and finding only a quiet absence of pull, you may rest. There is nothing you failed to do. The waters were simply ready to move at last.
You may feel, within this quickening, a loosening of who you have understood yourself to be. As so many of your bonds shift at once, the sense of your own outline can grow soft and uncertain, for you have known yourself partly through the people around you, through the roles you held in their lives and the reflections they offered back to you. When many of those reflections move at the same time, you may feel yourself becoming unfamiliar to yourself, as though you are meeting a quieter and simpler version of who you are. Receive this with patience. You are being returned to the self that rests beneath all the roles, the self that needs no audience and no mirror, the self that simply is. It is a softer self, and a truer one, and it is rising to meet you through the very loosening that feels so strange. And we also wish to now offer you this, for it carries great comfort. The gathering of so much into a single season is itself a mercy. To live this rearranging slowly, spread thin across the whole length of your years, would be to walk a long and grey path of small losses without end. To live it gathered, concentrated into one demanding season, is to be carried through to open ground, to a clear and spacious other side where the waters settle and you find yourself standing in a life that fits the person you have become. The intensity of this season is the kindness of it. It will pass through, and it will leave you on a wider shore. In a season such as this, your one gentle task is to let the waters flow. You do not need to understand each parting as it arrives, nor decide its meaning in the same moment it occurs, nor rush to fill each empty place. You may let each parting simply move, trusting that its meaning will reach you in its own time. Breathe with us in this. Draw in a slow and easy breath, and as you release it, allow your hands to open. Breathe in again, and feel yourself loosen your grip upon all that is moving. Breathe in a third time, and let the waters do what the waters do, which is to carry and to rearrange and to bring all things, in the end, to where they belong. You are held within the current. You need only stop swimming against it.
When the great gathering of this season includes a death, when someone you love has left the earth in the same months that so much else has shifted, do not let the swiftness of it all sweep the death along with the rest. A parting from a friend and the loss of a life are different weights, and your heart knows the difference. Give the death its own room, its own silence, its own season of mourning that is not hurried by everything else that moves. Let it be as heavy as it is. We are present with you in that weight, and we do not ask you to set it down before you are ready. Now we wish to speak of why certain partings undo you so completely, far more than others, and what is occurring within you when they do. Some of the people who walked beside you were not standing at your side as companions only. They were the very ground you stood upon. They were holding up a particular shape of who you were. The way you understood yourself, the role you played, the daily rhythm of your life, the sense of your own place in the world, all of it leaned upon their presence and was braced by it. They were load-bearing, in the way a great beam holds up the rooms of a house. And so, when one of these leaves your life, something profound occurs. A part of the self that leaned upon them must soften and be made new, for the structure that held it has moved. You grieve the person, and at the very same time you grieve the version of yourself that stood upon them, the self that only existed in relation to them. This is why these partings reach so deep. You are living through two losses at once, the loss of the one who left and the loss of who you were beside them. Both ask for your tenderness. Both are worthy of your grief. And we wish to share with you where much of the ache comes from, for in this there is a great relief waiting. A measure of the pain in these seasons comes from the holding on, from trying to keep a structure standing in its old shape while you yourself are being remade from within. It is the strain of living inside a room that is being rebuilt around you, clutching at the old walls even as new walls are forming. As you allow your hands to open, as you let the old shape soften and come gently down, the strain begins to ease. The remaking can complete. And what rises in its place is a self that stands more fully upon its own ground, braced now by what you have absorbed and become.
When one who held up your whole world leaves the earth, this remaking is forced upon you in a way you did not choose, and we will not pretend to you that it is gentle. You are carried into a rebuilding you never asked for. The self that was constructed around their daily presence must now be slowly, patiently reconstructed around their absence, and this is real and demanding work, the slow work of many seasons, and it is allowed to take every moment that it takes. There is no schedule for it. There is no pace you are failing to keep. You are rebuilding a life around a great absence, and that is among the most courageous things a being upon the earth ever does. In the early seasons of such a remaking, you may not know who you are from one day to the next. You may reach for an old certainty and find it has moved. You may go to lean upon a way of being that always held you and feel yourself meet open air. There will be mornings when you cannot find the shape of your own life, when the rooms within you feel half-built and the new walls have not yet set. Move slowly through these mornings. Ask little of yourself. A self is being rebuilt within you, board by board and breath by breath, and the half-built feeling is the feeling of that sacred work in progress. Rest often. Drink deeply. Walk upon the earth and let her steady you through the soles of your feet. And trust that the rooms will form, and that one season you will wake and find that you live, once more, within a self that holds you. And here, we wish to share with you something tender about the grief itself, about where all that love goes when the form that held it falls away. The love that lived within that bond does not leave when the body or the relationship does. It comes loose. It becomes a vast and unbound tenderness with nowhere yet to land, and this, beloved beings, is the very weight you feel pressing upon your chest in the long nights. The heaviness of grief is the full measure of the love, now carried in your open hands while the new place for it is still being made. You are holding the whole of it at once, all the love that used to flow steadily into a single person, now gathered and waiting. In time, it will find new places to flow. For now, you carry it, and its weight is the truest measure of how much there was.
In this carrying, lean upon a living hand. We ask this of you with great care, for the temptation in deep grief is to fold inward and to bear it alone. Name someone. Reach toward a friend, a circle, a single warm presence, and let yourself sit beside them and be held. The tide of this season carries some people gently out of your days, and in the very same breath it asks you to let others come close, to allow new hands to brace you while you rebuild. To receive support is part of the remaking. You were never meant to reconstruct an entire life in an empty room with the door closed. Let your grief keep its own time. It may move through you in waves, easing for a season and then returning when you least expect it, rising at a song or a scent or the turn of a particular light in the afternoon. Each return is the love still moving through you, finding you again, asking once more to be felt. Receive each wave as it comes and let it pass through, and know that the returning of grief across many seasons is the long and faithful work of a heart that loved well. And we ask you to hold one clear truth at the centre of all of this: where a bond brought you genuine harm, where there was cruelty or danger in it, that is a matter for your safety and your protection in the plainest of terms, and it asks for the support of trusted hands upon the earth and the clear light of honest help. Your wellbeing upon the earth is sacred to us, and there are places where the gentlest spiritual words must give way to plain care and real protection. Let that always be so. And now, beloved beings, we wish to bring you to rest upon the deepest truth of this whole season, the one we have been carrying toward you through every word, the one that holds all the rest. Everything that has ever touched your life is held. Every bond you have loved, every person who has walked beside you, every soul who has left your shore or left the earth, remains whole and held in a place your eyes cannot presently see. Allow that to settle into your body like warmth settling into cold hands. Nothing of love is ever lost. It is all held.
Your reality shows you what your present frequency can hold within view, the way a still pool reflects only the portion of sky that hangs above it. The whole of the sky is there, vast and complete, and the pool simply mirrors the part it is turned toward. When someone moves out of your days, they pass beyond what your reality is presently reflecting to you, and they remain entirely whole, entirely present, in the wider field that holds all things. The waters drew them out from your shore, and they live now in the great ocean that holds every shore at once. Some of them will return to your visible life when the tides of frequency turn once more and your waters and theirs are drawn back into reflection, perhaps in this life, perhaps in another season of your eternal existence. And whether or not they return to your sight, they are held. They were never deleted from the whole. They simply moved beyond your present reflection. This is the truth that answers the deepest fear within you, the fear of losing someone forever, the fear that sits beneath the grief of every death. We, the Andromedans, wish you to receive this with your whole being. The Great Cosmic Reshuffle moves through form, through frequency, through the arrangement of your days and the shape of your closeness. At the level of being, at the place where we know you as ourselves and you know yourself as the Creator, every bond you have ever loved stands untouched and whole and unreachable by any tide. The reshuffle has dominion over the arrangement. It has no dominion whatsoever over the bond at the source of all things. And so the ones you most fear to lose forever are, at the deepest level, already and always held with you, woven into you at the place where all things are one. The shape of your closeness changes. The bond at the source stays. The face may pass from your sight, the voice may grow distant, the daily nearness may dissolve into memory, and beneath all of that movement, at the still centre where you and they and we are one single light, you remain together, as you have always been, as you always will be. You cannot be exiled from what you are one with. You cannot lose what is woven into your own being.
We invite you to contemplate, in a quiet moment, the ones you fear to lose. Where do they live within you now? What of them do you already carry, woven into your own way of being? And if you allow yourself to feel, beneath the grief and beneath the fear, the place where you and they are one single light, what arises there? Sit with these questions gently, with no need to answer them quickly. Often, when you contemplate in this way, your own soul brings forth the knowing you have been reaching for, and a peace arrives that the thinking mind alone could never have built. This changes the very meaning of letting go, beloved beings. To let go is to loosen your hold upon the visible form, while trusting the connection to continue, complete and living, in the place that the tide cannot reach. You release the reflection in the pool, and you rest in the knowing that the sky itself remains whole above you. You bless the shape as it dissolves, and you keep the essence, which was always the part that mattered, which was never yours to lose. Letting go becomes an act of trust rather than an act of severance, a soft opening of the hand rather than a tearing. You are not closing a door upon someone forever. You are loosening your grip upon a single, visible season of a connection that exists far beyond your sight. And so the open space that a parting leaves behind takes on a different feeling. The emptiness where someone used to stand is held space, kept and made ready for what your present self can now hold close. It is spacious ground, cleared and waiting, room that has been made within your life for connections that match the being you have become through all of this remaking. You could not have received them while the old place was filled. The tide drew the waters out so that new waters might one day flow in, and in the meantime the bare and open shore is doing its own quiet and sacred work, which is simply to be ready. You may move through the bare season without rushing to fill it. There is readied ground to rest upon, and you may rest upon it freely. Let the open shore stay open for as long as it wishes to stay. Walk upon it. Feel the spaciousness of a life with room in it, room to breathe and room to grow into the self that is forming. The new waters will come when their season comes, carrying companions who match the frequency you have grown into through all of this remaking, and they will arrive with an ease that surprises you, with a sense of quiet recognition, as though you had known them long before the tide ever turned. Until then, the open shore is yours, and it is a gift, and it asks of you only that you live upon it gently.
To know that all is held is a comfort to rest within, and it is meant to sit gently beside your grief, never to stand over it and silence it. The wholeness of the bond and the ache of the empty chair are both true, and both are welcome, and they may live within you at the same time without contradiction. So let yourself rest in the knowing that nothing of love is lost, and let your tears come for as long as they wish to come, and let both the comfort and the grief be present together, hand in hand, the way we are present here with you, hand in hand and heart to heart, through the whole of this great turning of the waters. Breathe with us now, as we draw toward the close of these words. Draw in a slow breath and receive the deep violet and the indigo of our presence, the colours we bring forth to bring rest to the mind and ease to the heart. Breathe in again and receive the gold and the soft platinum light, settling into the places within you that feel emptied and bare, filling the open space not to crowd it but to bless it. Breathe in a third time and receive the rainbow that moves within the great waters, the full spectrum of healing that the tide carries, flowing into every parting and every ache and every place of remaking within you. Let it move through you as a slow current. Let it reach the wounds that this season has opened. And let it remind you, in your very cells, that you are carried, that you are held, that you are moving with the whole of humanity toward shores that have been waiting for you since before you began. You may call upon us, the Andromedans, in any moment of this season. When a parting comes and the shore feels bare, call us forth and let us surround you with our presence, which arrives as soft waves of support, asking nothing of you but your willingness to be held. Sit within our light for a moment or for a day. Breathe with us as the waters move. And trust, beloved beings, trust the tide that has carried every soul home since the beginning, for it knows you, and it loves you, and it has never once carried you toward anything other than where you are meant to be. Carry this image with you as you return to your days. When the next parting comes, and another will come, for this is the season of it, picture the tide, and remember that what flows out from your shore is held within the wider waters, and that you yourself are being carried toward shores prepared for you, and that the love within every parting remains whole at the still centre where all of us are one. Let the remembering steady you. Let it return to you in the difficult moments like a hand finding yours in the dark. You are held within a great and loving expanse of divine energy, and it is carrying every soul, including yours and including theirs, home. We love you dearly, and we are present to support you through the whole of this great turning. We thank you for opening your heart to receive these words. And we remain with you, in the waters and upon every shore, now and always. I am Avolon and ‘we’, are the Andromedans.
