Prologue – The Wound and the Whisper
(B)’s journey didn’t begin in light. It began in quiet struggle — in a home shaped by emotional complexity, silence, and the effort to belong. As the youngest of four children, he often felt unseen, misunderstood, or burdened by roles he never chose. There was love, but it was tangled — expressed in ways that didn’t always feel safe or kind.
Each sibling found their own way to cope. (B)’s way was inward — a quiet resilience, a longing to understand what others couldn’t say. His early emotional world was shaped by confusion, suppressed truth, and a deep desire for connection.
His father worked constantly to support the family, and though kind-hearted, was often absent. His mother carried
wounds of her own and struggled to show affection. The atmosphere was one of survival, where love was
conditional and presence was rare.
But beneath the surface, something else was stirring. A hidden ember — soft, steady, and ancient — lived within
(B). A presence beneath the pain. For years it waited in silence.
The turning point came when (B) stood up for himself as an adult. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was powerful.
Something inside him opened. Not long after, during meditation, he began seeing ripples of energy, flickers of light, and subtle shifts in awareness. These weren’t fantasies — they were glimpses of something real. The soul had begun to whisper.
Then came the sound. High, clear, and undeniable. With it, everything began to change.
This is the story of a man who followed stillness through pain, who met presence in silence, and who began to remember the truth of who he really is.
Chapter One – Awakening Begins
After the confrontation with his mother, something shifted in (B). Not only emotionally — but energetically. He felt the old fear lessen, like a tight band in his chest had finally loosened. He started meditating more frequently, using breath to calm the nervous system and invite stillness.
In those early sessions, visions came: the ripples of water, soft chakra-coloured lights, and a gentle pull toward something greater. One night, he felt as though he was being pulled through stars — fast, bright, exhilarating. At the time, he didn’t know what it meant. But it felt real.
Then came the high-pitched sound.
It wasn’t imagined. It was clear, external yet internal, and it came with adrenaline surging through his body. The sound didn’t frighten him — it amazed him. He knew something was contacting him. The frequency would become his lifelong companion.
Then, on January 8th, 2021, everything changed. (B) was absorbed by the brightest, warmest white light he had ever encountered. It wasn’t just a vision — it was an immersion. The light wrapped around him with an intensity that felt infinite, yet perfectly gentle. It wasn’t hot, but it was full of warmth and presence. In that moment, he felt love beyond words, a stillness so profound that time vanished. He couldn’t explain it, but he also couldn’t forget it.
That experience didn’t fade — it imprinted itself in his soul. It was this unshakable moment that pushed him to search, to find answers, and ultimately led him to discover (N).
That same week, he found (N) online.
(N) didn’t tell (B) what to do. He simply offered presence. Recognition. A spiritual brotherhood. (B) felt
immediately that (N) was connected to something higher — and that this connection had been planned.
(B)’s life began to change. His dreams deepened. Meditation became not just a practice but a doorway. The sound frequencies came more frequently. Sometimes they jolted his heart, arms, or legs. Sometimes they simply flooded him with light.
He saw visions: a vast ship, a silver ring, a wooden chair. He didn’t always know what they meant. But he followed
them anyway.
This was no longer a hobby or escape. It was his soul, remembering its path — and choosing to walk it again.
Chapter Two – The Petals Open
In the quiet that followed his awakening, (B) turned inward more consistently. The sound frequencies were now familiar companions, gently guiding him into deeper states. But something unexpected happened — a vision unlike any he had ever imagined.
He found himself pulled through a great lotus — not symbolically, but literally. The petals opened around him, layer upon layer, each one luminous, soft, and alive. This was no ordinary lotus. It was the thousand-petal lotus: the sacred symbol of spiritual illumination and the crown chakra.
Being pulled through it felt like crossing a veil. The experience was peaceful yet powerful, radiant yet grounded. (B) knew, without a doubt, that this was a blessing — and that it had come to him early in his journey because he was ready. The energy was pure. It welcomed him, not with fanfare, but with a deep, wordless knowing: “You are on the path.”
That moment changed something inside him. He no longer questioned whether spirituality was real — he had been shown.
After the lotus, visions began to unfold more frequently.
One of the earliest visions came in the form of a quiet encounter with himself. In meditation, (B) saw the reflection of a younger version of himself in the glass door of a wooden shed. He was wearing his old plasterer’s work clothes — a brief career path he had left behind after developing a heart condition. There was no strong emotional reaction, just a sense of still recognition. The two (B)s — past and present — looked at each other. It was as though his soul was saying, ‘I see where you’ve been. And I’ve been waiting for you to see it too.’
In one meditation, he saw stars and atoms swirling — the building blocks of existence — and felt himself moving through them. It was like being shown the architecture of the universe. He didn’t try to understand it logically. He simply received it.
There were lights, too — sometimes like distant car headlights moving in the dark. Other times, like tiny orbs, shimmering like Christmas tree lights. Some stayed still. Some moved. Each brought a subtle shift in awareness.
One vision showed a wooden chair. Ordinary at first glance, but in its stillness, it felt like an anchor. Ben would later realize this chair represented his present life — his grounded self — a place to return to when the energies became too vast.
Then came the silver ring. It appeared in the dark, shining with a perfect, silent glow. It hovered in front of him — complete, flawless, and meaningful. It was there just long enough to appreciate before vanishing. It left an impression of spiritual commitment — like a soullevel vow remembered through symbol.
And there was fire — once as a blue-white flame like a Bunsen burner, concentrated and pure; and another time, like fireworks exploding in celebration. These were not destructive flames. They were activations — markers of inner ignition.
Each of these visions arrived without demand, without ego. (B) was not chasing experiences. He was simply present — and presence made him ready.
These early meditations revealed something essential: that the spiritual path is not always made of grand revelations, but of moments that arrive quietly, precisely, and with perfect timing. The petals had opened — and (B) had stepped through.
Chapter Three – The Silence of the Void
There are moments in a seeker’s journey that do not just hint at mystery – they open it wide. For (B), one such moment arrived not in waking life, but through the gateway of a dream.
The day had been ordinary: a barbecue with friends, laughter, food, and drink. But that night, his sleep turned restless, and then the veil parted.
He found himself in a vivid garden behind an old red-brick cottage. The sky was the clearest blue, the sun warm.
The garden was lush with green grass, scattered hedges, stone steps, and a bench. But what stood
out most was what lay beyond –
a garden that backed onto the realm of (N) and (M).
As they approached (their faces unseen), (B) turned to call (M), but she didn’t answer. When he
turned back, (N) had vanished.
(M) sat quietly on the bench, peaceful, her back to him. (B) chose not to interrupt. Instead, he sat
on the stone steps, dangling his legs and gazing up at the sky.
And then it happened.
The sound began – a high-pitched frequency, louder than usual. In an instant, Ben was pulled through cascading colours, as if being drawn through an eye, or more accurately, through something sacred and unknown.
He was taken, with great speed, into the void. This was not his first visit to the void, but it marked a deepening.
And the image he later shared – a radiant, eye-like structure of color and light – became the perfect symbol of that transition.
The vision (B) was pulled through in his dream with (N) and (M).
Symbolic Commentary: The Gateway of the Eye
This image, seen by (B) during a dream that transitioned into the void, represents an energetic gateway – often
referred to in mystical traditions as the fiBindu,fl or the point of origin and dissolution. In this image, a central
darkened point is surrounded by radiant colors: fiery red, deep blue, pure white, and golden orange. This symbolizes
the transition from form into formlessness, from thought into the stillness of the void.
The blue and black centre resembles the pupil of an eye or the core of a dimensional portal – an invitation to move
beyond the known. The flower-like formation reflects the thousand-petaled lotus, suggesting an advanced stage of
spiritual opening.
That (B) was pulled through this symbol during a dream involving N) and (M) indicates that this was not a
symbolic image only – it was a real energetic event. His soul remembered the way home, and the image manifested
as a guidepost. The light, the pull, the silence – each carried him across the threshold.
This gateway is not an ending – but a return to Source, and a reminder of the sacred paths encoded within the soul.
Chapter Four – The Return Through the Stars
There are moments on the spiritual path when something returns — not as memory, not as imagination, but as truth confirmed. A place once glimpsed is seen again, not as a dream, but as a reality woven into the soul.
For (B), the return came unexpectedly. A visit, brief yet profound. He was taken once more — not in body, but in frequency. It began as it often did: the familiar high-pitched sound, the feeling of presence building in the room, and the soft pull of energy that bypassed thought. But this time, it grew quickly, as if the current had a clear intention.
(B) surrendered. Eyes closed, body still — but inside, he was moving.
The energy accelerated, not violently, but powerfully. Like being carried on a Lightspeed train, smooth and fast, cutting through dimensions. And then came the image — as clear as if he had turned his head and looked through a window.
He saw two galaxies.
Bright. White. Majestic.
They spun in the blackness of space like living beings — glowing spirals of pure light. There was no color, only white brilliance radiating in motion. He wasn’t outside them. He was within the field, watching as they passed — or perhaps he passed — caught in the current of something vast and benevolent.
Then, just as suddenly, he arrived.
There was no structure or scene, no vision to anchor the space. Just a stillness — profound and absolute. And most notably: the sound was gone.
The high frequency that usually accompanied these visits — the one that had become like a sacred guide — had simply stopped.
It was as if he had reached the destination. A point beyond movement. Beyond light. Beyond even vibration.
He stayed there, suspended in that place of complete silence, for what felt like a few long, sacred moments. There was no fear. Just presence. Just being.
Then, softly, the frequency returned. Like a call home. The current resumed. And he was carried back.
What made this visit so profound wasn’t its intensity — it was the clarity. The knowing that this wasn’t fantasy. It was real. And it was his.
This was a soul location. A dimensional memory. Not imagined, but remembered.
He realized: the dream had not been a dream. It had been a visitation. And this new experience was a return to it — with greater awareness, and greater readiness to receive what it meant.
It meant: he was changing.
It meant: he was no longer just glimpsing the soul. He was becoming it.
And from here, the rest of the chapter unfolds — the realization about ego, the soul stepping forward, and the quote that marked the shift:
“My soul had a big ego to tame.”
Not with shame. But with clarity. Humor. Grace.
Because that’s what had happened. His soul had done the work. It had waited patiently as the ego flared, stumbled, defended, and resisted. It had allowed space for every struggle. And now — not through force, but through presence — it had quietly taken its place.
There was no dramatic fanfare. No cosmic applause. Just the feeling of being settled inside something real.
This chapter wasn’t about arrival. It wasn’t about ascension or enlightenment.
It was about embodiment.
(B) had returned through the stars, not to escape this world — but to remember who he was beyond it. And in doing so, he had begun living as his soul — quietly, powerfully, without needing to shout.
This wasn’t the end of a journey.
It was the beginning of a new kind of presence.
A life led not by force, but by frequency.
Chapter Five – Living the Change
Something has changed in (B).
Not just on the surface — not just a calmer voice, a softer look, or a slower pace — but deep within. It’s in the way he moves through life now. The way he listens. The way he no longer needs to fight, prove, or please.
He’s not trying to be spiritual. He’s simply becoming who he really is.
From the outside, it might seem subtle. But from within, it feels like a shift across dimensions.
(B) now lives in what he understands as the 5th dimension — a state of heart-led presence. Life feels slower, lighter, more peaceful. There’s still the world of work, daily tasks, people, noise — but something inside him no longer reacts the same way. There’s space. There’s choice. There’s peace.
His experiences often reach into the 6th dimension — moments of light, vision, sound frequency, deep silence, and contact with energies that go beyond the mind. He visits these spaces often in meditation. Sometimes while drifting to sleep. Sometimes in dreams. These are not escapes — they are reminders of who he truly is.
And he knows his soul is being called toward the 7th dimension — a space of unity, divine love, and pure resonance. He’s not rushing. There’s no striving anymore. Just a knowing that the path is real, and that he’s already walking it.
The biggest change isn’t just dimensional. It’s energetic.
He no longer lives from ego.
The need to control, to defend, to be “right” — it’s fallen away. The soul leads now. Not loudly. Not with drama. But with quiet certainty. With presence. With calm.
There was a time when pride and survival had to shape how he lived — shaped by old wounds, by the roles he learned to play. But those patterns are dissolving now. Not because he fought them. But because he’s grown beyond them.
“My soul had a big ego to tame,” he said with a smile. And it did. Not through battle, but through becoming stronger, steadier, and more loving.
That’s the shift his family might see.
Not a man who believes something different — but a man who feels different. Who holds eye contact longer. Who responds with softness. Who laughs easier. Who walks the dogs with more joy. Who listens without needing to fix.
This is what happens when the soul begins to live through the body.
This is the 5th dimension in action — not in the sky, but on Earth.
There’s still healing. Still humanness. Still days of tiredness and reflection. But the center is no longer lost. It holds.
(B) has become a bridge — between dimensions, between past and future, between pain and peace. And he walks it now not just for himself, but for others. Silently. Gently. As only he can.
This is what change looks like.
It’s not in grand speeches. It’s in everyday presence.
Chapter Six – What Is Spirituality?
Spirituality isn’t a religion. It isn’t a belief system. And it isn’t about being perfect, holy, or special.
Spirituality is a journey — inward, honest, and deeply human. It’s the path of becoming your truest self.
You don’t have to meditate. You don’t have to chant. You don’t need crystals or incense or robes.
You just have to be willing to ask the question:
“Who am I really… and why am I here?”
That’s where it begins. That’s where it always begins.
Spirituality is what happens when you get quiet enough to listen — not to the world, but to your own soul. When you begin to notice the patterns, the pain, the things you’ve been carrying — and realize you don’t have to carry them anymore.
It’s about healing, not hiding. Growing, not pretending. Loving, not judging.
It’s the gentle work of returning to the version of yourself that is kind, present, and alive. The version that maybe got lost somewhere along the way — beneath the noise, the trauma, the expectations, the pain.
And here’s the truth: You don’t have to “find” that version. You already are that version. Spirituality is just the process of remembering.
It isn’t always easy. In fact, it often begins in darkness — in heartbreak, illness, grief, anxiety, or confusion. But that’s not a failure. That’s the opening.
Because spirituality doesn’t rise from perfection. It rises from honesty. From the moment you admit: “There has to be more than this.”
And there is.
There is more.
There’s more peace. More meaning. More connection. More light. More life. Not somewhere far away. Not in another world. But right here, inside you, waiting.
That’s what (B) discovered. Not through books or beliefs. But through experience. Through facing his past. Through opening his heart. Through listening to the quiet truth that never stopped calling him home.
And if you’re reading this — maybe that truth is calling you too.
You don’t have to change overnight. You don’t have to understand everything. You just have to begin.
With a breath. With a walk. With a pause. With a willingness to look inward.
Because spirituality isn’t about escaping life.
It’s about finally living it — fully, openly, and from the soul.
A Personal Message from (B)
If you’ve made it to this part of the book, thank you.
I never thought I’d write something like this. I never set out to be “spiritual” or to follow any path. I was just trying to survive, to heal, to understand why I felt so much and why I carried so many questions deep inside.
But somewhere along the way, something shifted. I started listening.
I started feeling more deeply. And slowly, I started becoming more me.
This book isn’t about being wise or special. It’s about being honest.
It’s about sharing the truth that life can change — that you can change — in ways that are gentle, powerful, and real.
If anything I’ve written has touched something in you… hold onto that. Even if you don’t understand it yet. Even if it feels small or uncertain.
That little spark inside you? That’s your soul.
It’s always been there. And it’s ready when you are.
Take your time. Trust yourself. And know that wherever you are in life — it’s not too late to begin.
From one Soul to another, (B)