lindseyrainwater.com
Why Do You Hate Me?
Last night we went to bed really late, and I quickly found myself drifting in that not-quite-awake-but-not-asleep state. This is a very receptive state for a lot of people when it comes to spiritual contact or big thoughts, and it's when I get some very real contact with my Crew. I thought I was heading for sleep when I heard "Why do you hate me?" I turned, finding myself in a room that wasn't my bedroom, looking over at Tempest – the representation of my Higher Self. As usual, she looked like me, except immaculate. Awesome all-black outfit that isn't even currently in my wardrobe (except the pants – I own those but I can't wear them right now thanks to baby belly,) perfect hair, perfect makeup . . . etc. She was looking at me with an intense expression, perched on the back of a chair, fiddling with her necklace. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Exactly what I asked. Why do you hate me?" she repeated. I tried to protest and say I didn't, because that would be crazy, but she just stared