► Questioner: “Human relations seem to be at their most challenging – can you comment?”
► Channeler: Sarah B Trennel
► Received Date: Sept 29th
► Watch The Video: https://www.patreon.com/GFLStation/posts/you-must-learn-171141219
We greet you, my friends, in the love and in the light of the One Infinite Creator, whose life moves through every being you have loved. I am Zii, and we are those of the Confederation of Planets in Service to the One Infinite Creator. We are grateful to enter again this circle of seeking, and before we begin we would place gently into your hands the same protection we would have you place around every spiritual teaching: your discrimination. No voice outside of you, including ours, should become the ruler of that quiet throne which belongs to the Creator within you. Take these thoughts into your own heart. Test them in living. Keep what awakens recognition and allow the remainder to continue on its way without concern. Your question this day concerns your relationships with one another, and more particularly the strange and sometimes painful traffic of human beings entering your life, remaining for some measure of your time, and then perhaps departing again. Your peoples have a saying that another comes for a reason, a season or a lifetime. There is wisdom in this, yet we would add another dimension, for these three words describe primarily the length of the contact and not its spiritual function. A being may pass beside you for fifteen seconds and alter the direction of an incarnation. Another may share your home for forty years while the two of you slowly work upon a single lesson whose simplicity would astonish you. Therefore, my friends, do not confuse duration with depth. Do not confuse permanence with success. Do not conclude that because another has left, something has failed; nor conclude that because another has remained, something has necessarily succeeded. The people entering your life are not primarily there to make you happy; they are there to make love conscious. And by this we do not mean that suffering should be sought, nor that every cruelty should be excused beneath the banner of spiritual learning. We mean instead that relationship is one of the great laboratories of third density because what remains hidden when you are alone becomes wonderfully difficult to hide when another free being stands before you. The other-self has desires you cannot command, perceptions you cannot edit, wounds you cannot heal by decree and freedoms you cannot own. Here the illusion becomes useful. Here love leaves theory and enters choice.
You have asked about those whom you might call members of a soul group, those with whom there is a mysterious ease, familiarity or depth that seems disproportionate to the number of years you have known one another. We would say there are indeed many patterns of companionship carried through the longer journey of consciousness, and there are beings who have undertaken portions of learning and service together more than once. Yet we ask you to hold this idea lightly, for the human personality quickly turns a spiritual possibility into a certificate of ownership. It says, “This is my soulmate, therefore this person must stay. We planned this, therefore this outcome must occur. We knew one another before, therefore the present relationship must be preserved regardless of what free will now reveals.” My friends, that is not the freedom of the Creator; that is the personality attempting to use eternity to secure the furniture. A pre-incarnative intention is better understood as the planting of possibilities. You may choose the hill upon which certain seeds are likely to grow; you do not dictate every raindrop that will fall upon them. Thus two souls may enter incarnation with strong probability of meeting, and after meeting each remains a living center of free will. What then is the purpose of such a reunion? It is not primarily to validate the romantic picture each has carried. It is to create conditions in which qualities that could not otherwise be easily seen are brought forward. Some contacts awaken courage. Some awaken tenderness. Some expose dependency. Some reveal the inability to receive. Some activate an ancient fear of abandonment, not so that abandonment must occur, but so that a hidden architecture of fear may finally become visible enough to be loved consciously. Others allow service to become joyful rather than dutiful. Therefore we would invite you to imagine each relationship as creating a third thing—not merely you and not merely the other, but the living pattern created between you. Into this pattern each deposits expectation, memory, desire, generosity, fear, humor, sexuality, resentment, hope, habit and choice. This shared field then begins to teach both participants. Neither fully owns it. Neither fully controls it. And often the greatest lesson is discovered when one ceases asking, “What am I receiving from this person?” and begins asking, “What has our meeting made visible that I could not see before?” At that point relationship becomes a path of seeking rather than a contract for emotional supply.
The intimate relationship, especially, has been made by your cultures into a vessel that is expected to carry an enormous cargo. The beloved is asked to be companion, witness, healer, lover, economic partner, source of safety, validator of identity, defender against loneliness and proof that the self is worthy. We do not criticize this arrangement, for much beauty can enter through these roles, but we ask you to observe the hidden bargain that often forms beneath them. The bargain says, “I will experience myself as loving so long as you reflect to me an image that permits me to feel loved. I will offer acceptance so long as your behavior remains within the borders of what allows me to remain comfortable. I will call our bond unconditional while quietly maintaining a list of conditions.” Then one day the other-self changes. Perhaps this person disagrees. Perhaps attention wanders. Perhaps an old wound is activated. Perhaps the other becomes stronger and no longer performs a familiar role. Perhaps you become stronger and can no longer perform yours. The human mind cries, “Something has gone wrong.” We say that sometimes something has finally become visible. The relationship has crossed from projection into catalyst. This is where the other-self becomes extraordinarily useful, not because every accusation made against you is true, nor because every behavior of the other must be tolerated, but because the charge arising within you points toward material requesting consciousness. If a criticism can occupy the mind for three days, there is information in the occupation. If another’s silence awakens terror, there is information in the terror. If another’s success awakens contraction, there is information in the contraction. You need not condemn yourself for these responses. They are the handwriting of catalyst. Read them. And remember also that the mirror moves both ways. The person irritating you is not simply a delivery mechanism created for your growth. You are catalyst in that person’s incarnation also. Both are Creator meeting Creator beneath conditions of partial forgetting. Therefore, humility becomes essential. The person you have classified as difficult may be giving you a priceless opportunity. The person you believe you have come to rescue may be revealing your attachment to being needed. The person whom you think knows less may possess the precise wisdom your personality has avoided. In third density, my friends, the classroom frequently exchanges the names printed upon the teacher’s desk.
We now turn to another portion of your query, for many seekers believe that as consciousness rises the human environment should become steadily easier. Surely, one reasons, if I become more loving I will attract only loving people; if I become peaceful only peaceful beings will enter my field; if I ascend sufficiently I will cease encountering irritation, conflict, confusion and those who seem determined to test every spiritual principle before breakfast. We smile with you, my friends, for the Creator has a delightful economy. As you rise in consciousness, you may meet more difficult people, not fewer. This need not mean that you are attracting punishment, that your vibration has failed, or that every angry stranger has been metaphysically dispatched to drink from your reservoir of light. There is a simpler and, we believe, more useful way to view it. As self-absorption decreases, more of Creation becomes visible. The clerk behind the counter is no longer scenery. The exhausted parent in the parking lot is no longer an obstacle. The driver who cuts before your vehicle is no longer merely an offending automobile. The person becomes perceptible. You begin to sense that every apparent background character is standing at the center of an incarnation as vivid to that being as yours is to you. This widening of perception creates more points at which conscious choice may occur. Therefore, greater consciousness first produces greater responsibility, not greater importance. A brighter light is not a higher throne; it is a greater responsibility for what you add to the room. Consider your angry driver. You cannot know what occurred in that entity’s morning. You cannot know whether there is fear, illness, grief, simple carelessness or habitual aggression. Your opportunity is not to invent the story. Your opportunity is to notice what arrives in you. A charge has entered the shared human field. Must it acquire another carrier? If anger strikes you and you strike the next being, the current continues. If anger strikes you and is consciously received, felt, understood and not transmitted blindly onward, something has ended at your location. This is service so ordinary that the personality may refuse to call it spiritual. Yet whole civilizations are composed of such transfers. Peace at the planetary level is built, in part, by beings who learn where reaction can stop.
This brings us to what we would call the seeker who wishes to become the walking meditation. Many upon the path have discovered a sanctuary in the quiet room, the closed eyes, the regulated breath, the morning period in which the mind is invited to become transparent to deeper consciousness. This is beautiful and we encourage it. Yet the purpose of the sanctuary is eventually to become portable. If peace exists only where interruption has been excluded, then peace has not yet learned its full strength. Can you carry remembrance into the grocery store? Can you find the Creator while another misunderstands you? Can you remain in relationship with the heart while the body is flooded with the chemistry of anger? Do not hear this as a demand for perfection. The measure of awakening is not that you are never triggered, but that you return to the Creator more quickly after you are. This, we feel, will become increasingly valuable in the passage your peoples associate with the energies moving toward the year you call 2027. We do not ask you to make an idol of a date. A calendar does not awaken consciousness. Yet periods of collective acceleration can increase contact, pressure, visibility and the speed at which unprocessed patterns present themselves. Prepare, therefore, not by attempting to build an invulnerable spiritual shell but by shortening the road home. Notice the first contraction in the chest. Notice the sentence the mind begins composing against the other-self. Notice the impulse to win before you have even understood. And somewhere in that movement insert remembrance: “This too is within the One.” Perhaps you still speak firmly. Perhaps you leave. Perhaps you discover you were wrong. Perhaps you are entirely correct in the practical facts and yet find that the manner in which you carried correctness added unnecessary injury. The practice is not to become passive. It is to remain inhabitable by love while action occurs. Each time you are thrown from center and consciously return, a pathway becomes more available. What once required three days of resentment may require three hours, then thirty minutes, then perhaps three breaths. Do you see, my friends, how practical evolution can be? Enlightenment need not always announce itself as ecstasy. Sometimes it appears as the argument you did not continue.
Now we come to a central reversal. Most human relationships begin with the self at the center of the measuring instrument. “Do I like this? Does this person affirm me? Is this useful to me? Am I safe? Am I respected? What am I receiving?” Some of these questions are necessary. We would never ask you to abandon discernment or physical and emotional safety. Yet when every encounter is interpreted only through self-reference, a great portion of its spiritual information remains unread. The seeker gradually learns another question: “What quality may the Creator express through me here?” This is a very different orientation. It does not demand that you know what the Creator has planned. It does not require mystical instruction before answering the telephone. It is simply an availability. Perhaps what is needed through you is patience. Perhaps precision. Perhaps laughter. Perhaps a meal. Perhaps the courage to speak the sentence everyone has been avoiding. Perhaps an apology without explanation. Perhaps a boundary that finally makes dishonesty impossible. When you say that you wish to surrender your will to the will of the Creator, we would refine the language slightly, for your will is itself a gift of the Creator. You do not surrender free will by becoming spiritually numb. You use free will to orient free will. You say, in effect, “Let my personal preferences cease being the only intelligence permitted to speak.” Then a curious freedom appears. You no longer have to manufacture the correct spiritual performance. You become available to the moment as it actually is. Taking your eyes off yourself therefore does not mean abandoning yourself. It means removing the self from the throne while keeping it lovingly in the room. A neglected self cannot serve cleanly for long. An exhausted self begins to demand secret payment. A resentful giver eventually sends invoices. Therefore tend the instrument, but do not worship the instrument. Feed it, rest it, heal it, allow it joy, then place it again at the disposal of love. In this way the seeker becomes not smaller but more transparent. The personality remains unique, humorous, imperfect and particular, yet something larger can move through its particularity. The Creator does not require you to become generic in order to become useful.
When the seeker adopts this orientation, the phrase “add value” also changes its meaning. Your world often interprets value through visible production: advice given, problem solved, money transferred, task completed, person changed. Yet there are encounters in which value consists precisely in not imposing an outcome. There are moments when a person requires a witness more than a technician. There are moments when another wishes to speak a grief aloud so that grief may finally hear itself. There are moments when your finest contribution is practical and immediate: pick up the child, carry the bag, make the call, bring the food. There are moments when love becomes blue-ray honesty and says, “No, I cannot participate in this.” There are moments when love becomes receptive and allows the other person to do something for you. This last form, my friends, is frequently neglected by those whose spiritual identity has become associated with service. Some are comfortable giving because giving preserves control. Receiving exposes need. Giving allows one to feel strong; receiving asks one to be seen unfinished. Yet if all beings are portions of the Creator, why should the Creator in you monopolize the joy of giving? Permit the Creator in another to serve also. If a friend offers a hand, receiving that hand may be part of your service to the friend. If a younger person possesses wisdom you lack, allow yourself to be taught. If the one whom you intended to comfort suddenly comforts you, do not rush to restore the old hierarchy. Creator serves Creator from whichever chair happens to be occupied. Thus the seeker releases the identity of savior. You are not asked to become indispensable. Indeed, one sign of clean service is that you can give without needing to remain necessary afterward. Offer what is yours to offer, receive what is yours to receive, and release the accounting. Much love disappears from human awareness because it is measured too quickly. A sentence spoken today may become courage in another five years hence. A kindness forgotten by you may remain unforgettable to its recipient. You cannot manage the full consequence. Service therefore asks for sincerity more than omniscience.
We would now place before you a friendly caution; Once a seeker begins perceiving patterns in consciousness, the temptation arises to diagnose everyone. You see why your brother suffers. You see the childhood wound beneath your friend’s anger. You believe you understand the karmic pattern within your partner. You have read, meditated, healed and gathered language, and now an answer rises within you before the other person has finished asking the question—or perhaps before a question has been asked at all. My friends, wisdom asks that love pass through the door of permission. Love that ignores permission can become control while still calling itself service. This does not mean you stand idle before obvious need. If a child is in danger, act. If one is hungry and you have food, feed. If another collapses before you, assistance need not await a metaphysical invitation. We speak rather of those subtler territories in which another’s consciousness is treated as a project. Do not use pre-incarnative planning as an excuse for indifference: “Perhaps this suffering was chosen, therefore I should not interfere.” Neither should you use compassion as an excuse for ownership: “I know what this soul needs, therefore I must make it happen.” Between these distortions lies responsive service. Listen to the size of the opening. A person asking to be heard may not be asking to be corrected. A person requesting one suggestion may not be inviting a restructuring of life. A friend sharing pain may want companionship rather than cosmology. Offer at the scale at which freedom can still breathe. You may discover that the most respectful sentence available is, “Would you like me to listen, or would you like ideas?” What a simple question, and yet how much infringement it can prevent. Spiritual maturity is not proved by the amount of truth you can pour into another person. It may be revealed by your ability to possess truth without using it as pressure. The Creator has given the other-self an interior path that does not belong to you. You may illuminate a step. You may walk beside. You may carry when carrying is invited or truly necessary. But you cannot walk another’s path by dragging the traveler.
This same principle leads us to boundaries, where many loving seekers experience confusion. If all are one, they ask, must I not remain available to everyone? If this difficult being is the Creator, is withdrawal a rejection of the Creator? If compassion is unconditional, should access also be unconditional? We answer: the open heart is not the same thing as an open door. You may love a being and decline an interaction. You may forgive and decide that trust has not yet been rebuilt. You may recognize another as the Creator and recognize simultaneously that the pattern created between your personalities has become destructive. Unity does not erase differentiation. The ocean is one, yet one does not therefore sail every current in every weather. A boundary can be an act of service to both beings when it interrupts a pattern in which resentment, manipulation, dependency or injury is continually rehearsed. Indeed, there are relationships that persist not because love calls them forward but because fear prevents anyone from allowing their form to change. One fears being cruel. Another fears being alone. Another fears admitting that a promise once made under one state of consciousness must now be re-examined honestly. We do not tell you when to stay or when to leave, for such discernment belongs to your sovereignty. We ask only that you remove the false equation that spiritual love requires endless proximity. Sometimes love comes close. Sometimes love gives space. Sometimes love speaks. Sometimes love refuses the next argument. Sometimes love says, “I can meet you here but not there.” A boundary offered with punishment becomes a weapon; a boundary offered with clarity becomes information. And notice, my friends, that the boundary is not merely for the troublesome other-self. It reveals the self also. Can you establish a limit without needing the other person to agree that the limit is justified? Can you leave without constructing a spiritual indictment that places you above the one from whom you leave? Can you remain loving without remaining accessible? These are exquisite lessons in the union of love and wisdom.
We come now to the flowing out of relationship, for here there is much grief and much mythology. Your spiritual communities sometimes explain every departure by saying, “Our frequencies no longer match.” This may occasionally be a useful metaphor, but it can become a convenient way of making separation into a ranking system. One ascends; another is left behind. One vibrates higher; another lower. My friends, you may release this need. Two roads can separate without one road being inferior. A relationship can change because its form has completed what that form could presently accomplish. It can change because free choices have accumulated. It can change because truth finally became stronger than habit. It can change because one or both beings require different conditions for the next portion of seeking. And it can change for reasons neither personality will understand while incarnate. You do not need to diminish another in order to let that person go. Nor must you demonize the self in order to admit that something has ended. This is where we offer a concept that may be useful: a relationship can possess an external life and an internal life. The external life is the observable contact—the conversations, dinners, intimacy, messages, shared house, projects, conflict, laughter, responsibilities. The internal life is what the contact has built into consciousness. When the outer relationship changes, the inner relationship may be only beginning to reveal its harvest. The friend who taught you playfulness may live within the ease with which you later comfort your child. The partner who forced you to discover a boundary may live within every honest no that protects your future. The teacher who once answered your questions may live within the questions you now know how to ask yourself. The stranger who offered kindness on the worst afternoon of your year may live within the compassion you offer another stranger decades later. Some relationships complete themselves by leaving your calendar and entering your character. Seen this way, letting go does not require declaring the relationship meaningless. It can mean allowing meaning to change its address.
Human grief nevertheless has its own sacred timing. When the physical form of a beloved goes, whether through separation, distance, death or the subtle departure in which two people remain near physically while intimacy changes, the human heart may ache for the form itself. This is natural. The chair is empty. The phone is silent. A ritual that belonged to two now belongs to memory. Do not leap over this experience by saying, “It was only catalyst.” Catalyst is not a diminishment of love. The fact that an encounter teaches does not mean it was merely a lesson. You are allowed to miss the face through which the Creator became familiar to you. Yet even while grief moves, ask gently what the relationship has become within you. What capacity exists now that did not exist before this person? What truth can no longer be unknown? What tenderness, discernment, humor, courage, self-respect or ability to receive has been incorporated into the being? This question does not replace grief; it reveals inheritance. You may then discover that possession was never required for continuity. You can honor what another awakened without requiring that person to continue providing the awakening. You can carry gratitude without reopening a harmful door. You can forgive without rewriting history. You can acknowledge injury without making the injury the permanent name of the one who caused it. This last practice is powerful. Humans freeze one another into roles: my betrayer, my ex, my narcissist, my rescuer, my soulmate, my enemy, my abandoned child, my impossible parent. These names may describe aspects of experience, but if held indefinitely they can become containers in which the other-self is never allowed to move. More importantly, they can become containers in which you never move. Harvest the truth and release the prison. You are not asked to keep every person; you are asked to keep the love that the encounter made possible. And where love was obscured by pain, keep the consciousness that pain compelled you to develop. Nothing integrated is wasted.
Completion does not always mean departure and this, we feel, is important for seekers to grasp. Many relationships need not end; they need to stop being what they were. A parent who has organized identity around guiding a child may need to meet that child as an autonomous adult. A teacher may need to allow the student to become equal or surpass the teacher. Two friends may discover that constant contact belonged to an earlier season and that quieter affection now suits the truth. A marriage may remain while a hidden contract inside the marriage dies. Perhaps one partner was always the strong one and the other the dependent one. Perhaps one was the spiritual interpreter and the other the skeptic. Perhaps one rescued while the other created situations requiring rescue. When consciousness changes, these old roles can become intolerable before the people themselves become intolerable. This distinction can save much unnecessary destruction. Ask, “Do I need to leave this person, or does a role between us need to leave?” Sometimes the answer will indeed be that physical separation is wise. Sometimes the discovery will be that the relationship itself is waiting behind the costume it has been wearing. The Creator loves transformation of form. Look at your world: seed becomes shoot, flower becomes fruit, fruit returns to soil. None of these stages accuses the previous stage of failure. Why then demand that a human bond prove its authenticity by remaining frozen in its first successful shape? Let relationships breathe. Allow friendship to become collaboration and collaboration to become distance. Allow romance to mature beyond constant reassurance. Allow family roles to become adult relationships chosen anew rather than inherited automatically. Allow those who have served you to need service. Allow those you once taught to teach you. In this way relationship becomes less like a possession and more like a living organism within the Creation. Its health comes not from resisting every change but from responding honestly to what change reveals. The soul does not need the photograph to remain identical in order for love to remain real. Indeed, love is often discovered precisely when the photograph can no longer be maintained.
We would now widen the lens, for none of these interactions is entirely private. Each human encounter contributes a small coloration to the social field in which all of you move. You know this intuitively. One person enters a household carrying agitation and soon the entire room speaks more sharply. One act of generosity changes the tone of a gathering. A frightened leader transmits fear into a group; a grounded individual can prevent fear from recruiting every nervous system present. Yet here again we caution against imagining yourself as a magical regulator of all around you. You are responsible first for the quality you contribute, not for controlling how others respond to it. This distinction will be crucial. When seekers hear that consciousness affects the collective, they may begin monitoring themselves anxiously, terrified that one angry thought damages the planet. Such anxiety is simply another form of self-importance. You are allowed to be human. The work is not to eliminate every distortion before entering society. It is to become increasingly conscious of what you pass onward. An irritation comes to you. Will you magnify it? A rumor reaches you. Will you add certainty before passing it? A frightened person seeks reassurance. Will you promise what you cannot know, merely to remove discomfort? A family argument invites you to choose a side before understanding. Will you become another weapon in the conflict? These are locations where planetary consciousness is made. The great social memory complex of your future, if you wish to speak in such terms, is not built only in councils of enlightened beings. Its preliminary muscles are exercised whenever humans learn to remain distinct without becoming enemies, to disagree without stripping one another of sacred worth, to help without ownership and to separate without hatred. Thus the challenging relationship has social significance. Each time you learn to hold difference without immediately converting difference into threat, you create within the human field another example of unity capable of containing variety. Oneness is not sameness. The Creator did not become the many in order that the many should anxiously imitate one another.
How then, my friends, may you embody this way of being rather than simply admire it? We suggest something simple. At the beginning of your day, before the machinery of personality has gathered full speed, offer the coming encounters to the Creator. You need not know whom you shall meet. Simply say inwardly that you are willing to see more clearly, to serve without controlling and to receive without shame. Then live your day. When an encounter produces unusual charge—delight as well as anger, attraction as well as aversion—mark it gently in consciousness. Do not analyze everything while it is happening. Be present first. Later, in quiet, return to those charged moments. Ask four questions. What did I want from this person? What was I afraid this person could take from me? What quality was trying to emerge through me? What freedom belonged to the other-self that I had difficulty allowing? These questions will show you much. If you discover resentment, do not immediately cover it with spiritual language. Feel the honest resentment and ask what unspoken bargain produced it. If you discover the desire to rescue, ask what feeling appears if you imagine doing nothing beyond what has actually been requested. If you discover that you failed to speak a needed boundary, rehearse inwardly a cleaner expression for the next opportunity. If you discover that you were loved and could not receive it, notice where receiving became dangerous in the story of the self. And if you discover that you acted beautifully, allow yourself to acknowledge this without pride or embarrassment. Gratitude for growth strengthens growth. In this practice you are not grading the day. You are metabolizing it. The events of relationship become spiritual nutrition rather than undigested history. Over time the same catalyst need not shout so loudly to gain your attention. You begin recognizing its footsteps at the door. And then there comes a marvelous moment when a familiar situation occurs and the old reaction simply does not have the same authority. Nothing dramatic may happen outwardly. Yet inwardly an incarnation has changed direction.
And so we return to the flowing stream with which you began. People will come, my friends. Some will arrive carrying recognition so immediate that you will wonder how strangers can feel ancient. Some will arrive irritating every portion of the personality that had believed itself peaceful. Some will love you magnificently. Some will misunderstand you. Some will receive from you. Some will give what you did not know you needed. Some will remain long enough that you forget life before them. Some will turn the corner after one conversation and never return. Let none of these facts alone determine the meaning of the meeting. Especially as your planetary experience moves through this intensifying chapter toward 2027 and beyond, we encourage you not to become harder in order to survive human contact, but more rooted in the Presence that can move through contact without possessing it. Let the Creator have more ways to meet itself through you. Be willing to be the giver and the receiver, the teacher and the student, the one who stays and the one who leaves, the one who speaks and the one who finally learns to listen. Do not demand that every person remain simply because love was real. Do not demand that every person leave simply because catalyst became difficult. Ask what truth, what freedom, what service and what love are available now. Then choose as clearly as you can and allow others the dignity of choosing also. There will be mistakes. There will be conversations you wish you could repeat. There will be doors closed too early and doors left open too long. This is not evidence that you have failed the spiritual path. It is the path. You came into a density of veiling so that love could become a discovery made under conditions where its opposite seemed possible. Every relationship gives you another location in which to make that discovery. Therefore let people flow without becoming indifferent. Love deeply without fastening chains around the form love must take. Serve without owning the result. Receive without believing reception makes you weak. Leave when wisdom calls, remain when love calls, and when you cannot yet tell the difference, become still until the deeper voice can be heard. The One Infinite Creator is not only at the destination of your relationships. It is the space through which every arrival and every departure has always moved. We thank you, my friends, for allowing us to join your seeking. I am Zii and we leave you, as we found you, within the love and within the light of the One. Go in peace.
