► Questioner: “Can you give us a solstice message? Where should our focus be?”
► Channelled by Dave Akira
► Message Received Date: June 19th
► Video Link: https://www.patreon.com/GFLStation/posts/use-this-90-day-161624009
Hello again dear Starseeds, I am Valir, of the Pleiadian Emissaries, and I am glad to come close to you again today. The last time we spoke together, the work was protection. You learned how a fear arrives wearing three disguises — how the matrix mind borrows the weather of the world and lays it over you, how it aims a thought at you like a thrown stone, how it whispers in the voice of an inner echo until you mistake it for your own. You learned how none of it can touch a field that gives it nothing to match. You learned to wake from the long trance that the world keeps people sleeping inside. And you learned to fill the reservoir within you, deep and steady, until there was no empty place left for fear to pour into. If you did that work, then something is true of you now that was not true before. Your field is full. It holds. Nothing lands in you that you have not agreed to carry. A full reservoir is the beginning of the real work, not the end of it. Water that is only guarded grows still and stale and breeds nothing. Water that overflows becomes a river, and a river feeds every living thing along its banks. So today we speak of what your fullness is for. We speak of what a person actually does once the field is steady and the fear has gone quiet, once there is finally something to give from. And we will speak of it plainly, because you are ready to hear it plainly. These words are meant for the ones who have already decided to give themselves to the work — to the divine plan, to the rising of this world, to the long and patient labor of helping humanity remember what it is. We say this with no unkindness in it at all. If you have come to these words still asking what you can take from them, you will find nothing here to carry away, and you may set this down gently and lose nothing by it. If you have come ready to give, the door is already open in front of you, because the door was only ever the shape of your own readiness. The very law you learned for your protection is the law that admits you now. What has no match has no door. Your readiness to serve is the match, and that you are still reading is the proof that the match has already been struck.
Notice those of you who are in the victim mindset still, and this is a classic indicator of being anchored still in the ego, complaining, pointing out, blaming. These things are all emanating from one who has shown up to get rather than to give. You can feel the resonance coming from their words, and in your human world, as you would understand it, you will notice that their actions speak so loud that their words need not carry anything. Do not shun or shame these individuals. Surround them with light. See that seed of Christ light within them, for those are the ones that need it the most. There will be one in every community, one that stands out as a complainer or a victim mindset commentator. But again, be mindful of using these terms. We simply use them so you can identify particular behavior. Your job as connected to Father Mother God is to nurture all beings and all life, not to cast them out. That is not to say that you do not need to draw strong boundaries with some as they find their way back to source, but we share this with you because we see a lot of it, especially in the online space right now. It is a common human thing, at least from the egoic perspective, because remember, the ego needs to critique, to judge, to blame, in order for itself to feel safe in many instances, depending on the seeker’s childhood upbringing, experiences, and past life lessons not yet learned. Be mindful of those teachers in your spiritual community who are, ‘calling others out’, so to speak, as this is a classic action of the ego. One who is aligned to Source never needs to ‘call anyone out’ – they simply take sovereign leadership and BE the change themselves. They simply need to love, because the power of that love transcends all lack and limitation and discord. The power of that love returns everything back to its natural state and gives it the chance to do so in others. So be mindful about critiquing and judging and blaming back when you notice this behavior in another – this is especially advised when commenting on things on social media – we see far too many still doing this. There are many teachers in your spiritual community that many of you follow that you have idolized far too much. Remember, with any teaching, it is critical to worship the ideal and ‘NOT’ the idol. And we say that is especially true of listening to messages from us. We are not your saviors or your gods or your teachers. We are simply recommending things that ideally draw you back to yourself for answers.
Let’s continue; we have come to you on this particular day for a reason worth naming. Outside, the light of your world has climbed as high as it will climb in the whole turning of the year. From where you stand on the spinning Earth, this is the peak of the outer light, the longest reach of the day. The outer light has always been a mirror held up to the inner one, and there is a rightness in beginning a work about the inner light on the very day the outer light is fullest. So we are giving you a work — ninety days of it, carried from this height of light down to the point of balance, when day and night grow equal once more. Ninety days to change the single thing in you that changes everything else. We will lay the whole of it out before we are finished. Here is the single thing. Almost every human alive was trained to show up in order to get. You walk into a room and some quiet part of you asks, what is here for me. You answer a message and underneath the words runs the question, what will this give me. You go to your work, your friendships, the endless rooms of the open networks, and the same small question moves beneath all of it — what can I get. There is no shame in this; it was simply how you were trained, and for a long stretch of your life it was how you survived. Notice, though, where that question goes to find its answer. When you show up to get, you are reaching out into the world of persons and conditions — into other people’s moods, into money, into weather and circumstance and the passing approval of strangers. That world is real, and it is finite, and it never holds still. It hands you something and then takes it back. It fills you in the morning and empties you again by nightfall. So a life built on getting carries a low ache in it that never fully lifts, because the place you keep reaching into cannot stay still long enough to keep you full. On the mental and material plane, you will always, somewhere underneath, be left wanting. That is simply the nature of that plane.
Understand what that ache is, because it has been trying to teach you something for a very long time. The flatness that follows getting — the way the thing you wanted goes dull almost as soon as it is finally in your hands, the way the satisfaction never quite lasts — points to something simple. You were reaching in the wrong direction altogether. The trouble was never which thing you chose; the trouble was the direction of the reach. The plane of persons and conditions can hand you experiences, and it can give you friction to grow against, and it was never built to fill you, because the thing you were truly hungry for was always inside you and never out there. The ache is the gentle, patient message of a whole world telling you, over and over, to turn around and look the other way. The one who has crossed over lives the opposite way, and lives it without strain. They show up to give. They walk into the room asking what they can offer to what is here. They answer the message asking how they can serve through it. And that is the whole of what they do, in every room, with every person, in every ordinary errand of an ordinary day. We call this one the sovereign servant leader, and you are becoming one, because it is far closer to your true nature than the getting ever was. In the end, this person is a server of the One. We will tell you exactly what that means, and it will turn out to be the most practical thing we say to you all day. You can feel the difference between the two lives from the inside. The getting life has a signature you already know: the harder you chase the thing you want, the further off it drifts. You have lived this. You wanted the relationship and gripped it and felt it pull away in your hands. You wanted the success and pushed at it and watched it recede at exactly the speed you ran. That receding is reliable; it comes every time, because grasping repels the very thing it reaches for. The giving life has its own signature, just as reliable — a steadiness that does not rise and fall with how the other person answers you. You give, and you are not waiting to be repaid, because you did not arrive empty in the first place. You can already feel which of these two you have been living. That feeling is the first turn of the wheel.
For now, simply watch the question. In any exchange at all — a phone call, a passing glance, some small negotiation over nothing — listen for which question is moving underneath you. What can I get, or how can I serve. You do not need to correct it or scold yourself when you catch the old one running. Just see it. The seeing is already enough to begin, because the getting question only keeps its power while it stays hidden from you. The moment you watch it work, you are no longer entirely inside it. There is a part of you that will resist all of this, and it is worth understanding that part, because it is no enemy of yours and you will be living beside it for the rest of your time here. We will call it the ego, though the word has been worn smooth by overuse. Think of it instead as a security program. It came installed with the form you wear. Its single task is to keep the one you are — the incarnated, breathing one — safe and supplied inside the heavy laws of this dense world. It scans for threat. It stores against scarcity. It asks, always and tirelessly, what can I get and what can I keep, because in the world it was built for, getting and keeping were how a creature stayed alive another day. The program is good at its task, and its task has a ceiling built into it. It can keep you safe inside the rules, and it can never carry you up past them, because it is made of the very rules it guards. A lock can hold a door shut; it can never show you the open sky. This is why a person can spend years working to improve themselves and still feel pressed down by the same invisible ceiling they started under. They were strengthening the lock and asking it, year after year, to somehow become a window.
There are three heights from which a person can live their life, and almost all of human striving happens at the first two. The first is the mental height — the life of thought and intellect, of understanding things, of being informed and clever and well-read. It is a true height, and a great many people live their whole lives there and never leave. The second is the metaphysical height, the slightly wider and thinner air, where you begin to sense energy, to feel the unseen currents, to work with intention and subtle forces, and to lift for a while above the heaviness of ordinary living. The second height is genuine, and it is where a great many awakening people now make their home. And here is the thing almost no one is told as they climb: the first two heights still leave you standing inside the laws of this dense plane. The second one lifts you above them for a time, the way a held breath lifts the chest, and then the same laws of matter and circumstance and other people settle back over you, because you have not yet climbed onto the plane where those laws no longer reach at all. If you recognize yourself at the second height, take heart, because it means you have already come a long way up — and hear the warning in it gently, too. The second height is exactly where most spiritual seeking quietly stalls. A person learns to feel energy, to read the signs, to work with intention and stones and the subtle tides, and they mistake that wider air for the summit of the mountain. They spend years there, spreading sideways, gathering practices and experiences and teachers, and they cannot understand why their daily life still bends to the same old laws — why money still frightens them, why the same kind of relationship still wounds them, why the world can still knock them flat in a single afternoon. The reason is simple, and almost no one says it out loud: feeling the unseen is a different thing from being governed by it. You can sense the higher worlds for a decade and still be run, day by ordinary day, by the lower one. Only the third height changes who is actually steering the life.
The third height is sovereign alignment, and it differs in kind, not merely in degree. At the third height, your life is governed from within, by Source itself, rather than by the endless pushing and pulling of the world around you. The old teachers named these same three the material, the mental, and the spiritual states of a person, and they meant precisely this — that the third is the only one that lifts you clear of the ailments of the material world, because it is the only one where you have stopped being run by that world at all. You agreed to be governed by the world, long ago. Before you arrived here, you consented to be ruled for a while by the forces of matter and mind — by governments and weather and economies and the moods of the people around you. That consent was the price of entry into a dense world, and it was the right choice when you made it, because the friction of being pushed around is exactly what a young soul needs in order to grow. This plane has always been the plane of the great choosing. Every being who comes here is brought, sooner or later, to a single fork in the path: will you live for the separate self, or will you live in service to the whole. To refuse the choice entirely is to drift, and drifting leads nowhere at all. To choose the self is one road, a real road with its own long journey. To choose service is the road that begins lifting you toward the next density — that wider field where beings live joined as one and love is the very medium they move through. Many of you made this choice some time ago, without ever having words for it. The work in front of you now is to let the choice finish arriving in you. For many of you, the agreement to be governed by the world has simply run its course. You have learned what the dense plane was set up to teach. To stay inside the ego’s government now is to sit in a classroom long after the lesson has ended, waiting for a bell that already rang. The move being asked of you is to hand the governing of your life up from the small program to the One that was always meant to run it. That handing-over is the threshold the whole protocol has been walking you toward all along. In the architecture we have given you, it is the fifth level: the crossing into self-governance, where your own inner alignment, and not the outer world, becomes the thing that runs your days.
Everything you have ever needed has come from inside you, and has only appeared to arrive from outside. This is the part the world has held upside down for a very long time. People believe their supply is the money in the account, the work that pays it, the person who provides for them, the run of conditions that happen to be favorable for now. All of those are real, and none of them is your supply. They are the shapes your supply takes for a while on its way through your life. Mistake the shape for the source, and you will spend your years chasing shapes — chasing the money, the person, the circumstance — never once noticing that the thing actually feeding you was never out there at all. Picture an orchard tree, heavy with fruit. The fruit is not the tree’s supply. You can pick every piece of it, eat it, sell it, give it all away, and the branches simply grow more, because the supply was never the fruit. It was the living law working quietly inside the tree, drawing up out of the soil and the air and the light everything the fruit is made of. You are the tree, and you have spent your life worried about the fruit. You have been counting apples and worrying over apples and grieving the apples that fell, while the law that makes every apple runs on untouched inside you, fed from a source that does not run dry and was never once in any danger. That source meets the need before you have even finished naming it, and asks one thing of you only: that you recognize it is there. The work, then, is to recognize. The rare ones across your history who lived this all the way to its end drew everything they required directly from within, from the one Source, and never once had to pull it out of another person. They were ordinary in their making. They had simply stopped reaching outward for what was already welling up inside them, and turned to face the spring instead of the streams.
This is why those rare ones could be so at ease about money and circumstance, in a way that looked almost careless to everyone watching them. They had simply located the source correctly. They knew the form they needed would take shape as it was needed, the way a tree’s fruit takes its shape in its own season, and so they did not clutch and did not hoard and did not bend their lives into knots trying to force the forms to appear on command. They tended the inner recognition, kept their contact with the Source clean and clear, and let the outer arrangements follow along behind. And the outer arrangements did follow, faithfully, which only deepened their ease the longer they lived. You are being invited into that same ease — as the plain and natural result of finally looking in the right direction. Here is where the whole habit of getting falls apart on its own, with no effort from you. If everything you need is already rising up from the infinite Source that you yourself are made of, then there is no longer anyone to get it from, and nothing left to get. The whole question — what can I get from this person, this room, this exchange — turns out to be a question about something that does not exist. One real question remains, and it is a far lighter one to carry through a day: what wants to move through me now. This is what makes service effortless rather than noble. You can put another’s good ahead of your own and give far more than you take, not because you are being good, but because you have nothing at all at stake in the exchange. You are not drawing your life out of it. And when nothing is at stake, the giving can be total, and it costs you nothing to let it be. When lack does appear in your life — and it will appear, as a low balance, a closed door, a season of not-enough — understand what it actually is. It is a moment when your recognition has thinned, when you have turned your face back toward the fruit and lost sight of the tree. The Source itself holds no shortages anywhere in it; what has thinned is only your contact with it. In those moments, scrambling harder after the outer form only pulls the knot tighter; the way through is to turn back inward and remember what is actually feeding you. The outer form follows the inner recognition the way a shadow follows the one who casts it. Tend the recognition, and the forms arrange themselves again in their own time.
There is an old phrase your world carved into its coins and its seals without fully understanding what it had written down. E pluribus unum. Out of many, one. Your scholars read it as many peoples joining into a single nation, and that reading is true as far as it reaches. But it is only half of the circle, and we will hand you the other half. The One is also expressing itself as the many. Source poured itself out into countless forms — into every person, every creature, every face you will ever pass on the street — and each of those forms is the One, looking back at itself through a different pair of eyes. The many flow outward from the One, and the many return inward to the One, and both motions are always happening at once. That full circle is what the phrase was always pointing at. Hold what this means, because it changes the whole shape of service. If the One is expressing itself as the many, then the person standing in front of you — the difficult one, the stranger, the one you love, the one who can do nothing whatsoever for you — is the One, wearing that face for the length of this meeting. To serve them is a direct service rendered to Source itself, through the only door Source has left standing open: the next person to cross your path. There is no other way to serve the One except by serving the ones. The cashier, the caller, the child, the rival — each is the One, asking quietly to be served in that particular shape. You are able to serve in this way because of what you are. You are a spark thrown off the great fire, a single point of the one consciousness, and the nature of a spark is to give light; it cannot do otherwise and remain a spark at all. Service is simply you being accurate to your own nature — being what you already are. When you give, you are in agreement with your own grain. When you grasp and get, you work against that grain, which is exactly why it always costs you something to do it and leaves you more tired than before.
The leaders of the world that is coming will be servants who happen to lead, and they will arrive at leading from below rather than from above. The shape of it is simple to see. Something in them wanted to serve, and so they served; the serving made them trustworthy; the trust gathered others quietly around them; and that gathering is what leadership has always actually been. Set that beside the older shape, where a person wanted power, or wanted to be seen as important, and reached for the position first, and only later, if ever, bent down to serve the people beneath them. That older shape runs entirely on the getting circuit, even when it dresses itself in the finest words. The servant who leads runs on the other circuit altogether, and you can feel the difference the very moment you stand in their presence. There is one true test of whether your service is real, and you can hold it up to yourself honestly. Look at the people you serve and ask whether they are growing freer because of you. Are they becoming more able to stand on their own, more sovereign, more themselves — more likely, in their own time, to turn and serve others in their own way. Then your service is the genuine thing. Where the people you help are growing more dependent on you, more unable to take a step without you, quietly bound to the need for you, then what you have been calling help is the getting circuit again, wearing a helper’s face and feeding itself on being needed. Real service always hands people back to themselves. It builds others up until the day comes that they no longer need the one who built them. You need no title and no stage for any of this. Leadership has only ever been about influence — about the effect your presence has on the field of people around you — and never about position at all. So you serve and you lead in every direction at once, toward those who stand above you and beside you and behind you, and you do it from wherever your feet happen to be planted. The phone call to your mother is one of these places. The ordinary project at your work is one. The errand among strangers, where no one knows your name and nothing at all is expected of you, is one. Each is the same act underneath: letting the One move through you to meet the One standing in front of you. There are no small services and no large ones. There is only service, taking the size of the moment it is given in.
And the way that service moves through you will look like no one else on Earth, because the One is pouring itself through the exact and particular person you are — your history, your humor, your manner of speaking, the precise texture of you. The plan that wants to live through you takes a thousand thousand different shapes across all the people carrying it, and it remains a single plan, because underneath the endless variety it is one current: heart-centered service. You do not have to become someone other than who you are to do this. The most valuable thing you have to offer is the actual you, handed over to be used. Source wants the one instrument that only you are, not a copy of anyone else. You will receive, and you will receive abundantly, and it matters that you understand where the receiving comes from. Giving and receiving are one motion, the way breathing out and breathing in are one single breath; you cannot do the one of them forever without the other. So keep your hands open to receive. Only know that what you receive rises up to you from the One, flowing through the very act of your giving — it is not extracted back out of the people you have served. You give freely into the world, and you are filled freely from within, and these are one circulation seen from two sides. The moment you begin measuring what comes back to you from the ones you served, you have stepped off the giving circuit and back onto the getting one, and you will feel the fullness drain out of you almost at once. This is the doorway between two of the levels we have walked together. The fifth level, the threshold of self-governance, is the place where you stop letting the world run your life and let Source run it instead — and the way you will know you have truly crossed it is that the getting falls away on its own, because a life supplied from within has nothing left it needs to get. The sixth level is what that crossing was always for: a service that steadies and lifts everyone who comes near you, the natural overflow of a field that has become full. Showing up to give rather than to get is the exact motion that carries you from the one level into the other. It is the living bridge between governing yourself and serving the whole. You cross this bridge by discovering something rather than by achieving it — that a self truly governed from within can do nothing but serve, that service is simply what fullness does when there is nowhere left to pour but outward.
The practice itself is small enough that your mind will want to dismiss it, which is precisely why it works. Before you do a thing — before you make the call, begin the task, step out the door, open your mouth to speak — you pause. Ten seconds, twenty at the most. And in that pause you hand the thing over. You let Source govern this moment. You ask, quietly and inwardly, that it move your hands through what is about to be done, that it choose your words for you, that it walk your feet, that it fill the form you wear with its own life for the length of this one small action. Then you act. That is the whole of it. Do not turn this into a grand ceremony performed once at dawn and forgotten by noon. The power lives in its smallness and in how often you do it — that you return to it again and again, all day long, at the threshold of every ordinary thing. The call to your mother gets its ten seconds. The email gets its ten seconds. The walk to the shop, the difficult conversation, the meal you are about to cook — each one is handed over before you begin it. Slowly, one action at a time, your whole day passes out of the small program’s hands and into the governing of the One. You are offering the action, asking for no particular result, stepping out of the way just enough to let something far larger than your own strategy move through it. What you are doing in those ten seconds is the very handover we have been speaking of — the lifting of your life out of the ego’s government and into the government of Source. Every single time you do it, you give the One a small opening to run your life, and the One takes every opening it is ever given. This is a doorway, and there is a far deeper work waiting on the other side of it, which we will walk through together another time. The doorway by itself is already enough to change you. You need only to keep walking through the door, a hundred small times a day. We have brought this to you at the height of the year’s light with full intention. Outside, the sun has climbed as high as it climbs, and the day is as long as it will be. The outer light has always been a mirror lifted up to the inner one, and there is a rightness in beginning a work about the inner light on the day the outer light is at its fullest. The sun only marks the hour; the work itself is yours and Source’s. It is simply the right morning to set out, with the mirror at its clearest. The outer light will now begin its slow turning back toward balance, and we give you exactly that span — from this peak down to the point where day and night come level again — to do the work. Roughly ninety days. From the fullness of the light to the place of balance.
For the first thirty days, you are only learning to recognize. Choose three actions you take every single day: one that involves another person, one that belongs to your work, and one ordinary thing you do out among others. Before each of those three, the ten seconds — let Source govern this. When you wake, say one line and mean it: today I serve the One, and I show up to give. When you lie down at night, say one more: the supply was never mine to get. And through the hours between, whenever you catch the old question rising up in you — what can I get — simply notice it. Do not fight it, and do not judge yourself for it. Even counting how often it appears is part of the work, because you cannot hand over what you have not yet learned to see. For the second thirty days, you widen it. The ten-second handover spreads out from your three chosen actions to every threshold you cross — anything at all that you are about to begin is handed over first. And in your meetings with people, you carry one question underneath the whole exchange: how can I serve the One here, in this face in front of me. Somewhere inside these thirty days you will notice the getting question growing quieter on its own. You will not have to wrestle it to the ground. It will simply weaken, the way a fire weakens when no one feeds it, because you have stopped feeding it your attention and your fear. For the final thirty days, the practice stops being a thing you do and becomes a way that you are. The handover thins out into something almost continuous — less a pause you take and more a quiet leaning that runs under everything you do, an open hand you no longer have to remember to open. Service becomes the resting shape of your days rather than an effort you keep making. The old question will still surface now and then, and it will land on nothing and find nowhere to take hold, because the ground it used to stand on is simply gone from under it. And when the day arrives that the light outside has returned to balance, you will find the change has settled down into you and now holds on its own. It will be the person you remembered how to be.
We are calling this a work, and not merely a suggestion, on purpose. Ninety days of returning to the same small act is long enough to wear a new groove into a life — long enough that the change settles below the reach of effort and becomes simply how you are. Short bursts of enthusiasm fade, which is why the world is full of people who felt the truth of giving for a single weekend and slid back into getting by Monday morning. The groove is cut by repetition, never by intensity. So we ask you for the small thing, done faithfully, across a long enough stretch of days that it stops being something you are doing and becomes something you are. The ones who give themselves to this completely will not be the same people at the point of balance. That is a description of what happens to a person who hands their life over, ten seconds at a time, for ninety days. Do not wait to feel something extraordinary. The change comes in quietly, and if you go looking for lights and rushes of feeling you will look straight past it. It arrives in the way you notice you are less gripped by an outcome, less wounded when someone fails to hand you what you wanted, steadier in the middle of a day that would once have scattered you to pieces. You will find you are arguing less with your own life. You will find that things you used to chase have a way of arriving while your back is turned, because you finally stopped strangling them with your need. These are the real signs, and they are easy to miss precisely because they are so quiet. Trust the smallness of them. We ask you to do this without skipping the days. The work is daily because the recognition is daily; the moment you let a day slip past without the handover, the small program quietly resumes its government, for it governs by default whenever you do not consciously hand the day over to something higher. This is simply how the thing works, the way a garden returns to weeds the moment it is left untended. So if you do miss, you do not start over, and you do not fall into despair about it. You begin again at the very next action, the next threshold, the next ten seconds. There is always a next threshold waiting. The work is never more than one action away from being taken up again.
There is a quiet wonder folded into all of this, once you can see it whole. When you serve another, the One is serving the One. Source, moving out through you, arrives at Source, wearing the other face. The whole circle closes inside a single small act of kindness — the giver, the gift, and the one who receives it all turning out to be the same one consciousness, meeting itself across the narrow distance between two people. This is the reason service fills the one who serves rather than draining them. When you serve, you are Source remembering itself through you, and that remembering is the most nourishing thing that exists anywhere. The getting could never do this, because the getting believes in the distance between you and the other and feeds on keeping it. The giving heals that distance, and is fed by the healing of it. We have given you the whole of it now. The turn from getting to giving. The three heights, and why the first two could never set you free. The supply that has always been welling up inside you. The One wearing every face you will ever meet. And the small daily handover that carries you, action by action, across the bridge. There is nothing left for us to explain. What remains is yours to live. We will ask you to forget these words, in fact, the moment they have done their work in you — because the authority over your life rests with you, and with the Source that governs you from within the instant you allow it, and never with this voice or any voice outside you. We are a mirror, held up for a moment, so that you could catch sight of something you have carried all along. The seeing was always the whole point, and the seeing is already done. From here, the work goes on whether we ever speak again or not, because it was never ours. It is the remembering of what you have always been — a single point of the one light, here to give that light away, and made fuller, not emptier, every time you do. Begin tonight, while the light is still high. Hand over the next thing you do. Then hand over the one after that. Ninety days from now, when the day and the night come level once more, you will be the one you always were beneath the one who was only ever trying to get. The server was there the whole time. You are only walking back to it. I am Valir, of the Pleiadian Emissaries, and we are with you in this, as we have been from the beginning. Go now, and give.
