November 5, 2000

Samuel: Hello, dears

Hi, Samuel.

S: Good. Well how ever are you? Stunned? Quiet? What a change. We’ll try it again. How ever are you?


S: Good? Again?


S: Happy. Nice. Nice. Aye.

Better than we deserve.

S: Exactly what you deserve.


S: Nice. It’s a very special night at Phoenix. We are doing something slightly different than usual in that although I’m going to be speaking as usual, giving a little sermonette for paganettes or something like that, afterwards there is going to be a bit of a ceremony for those of you who are able to stay for it. The ceremony is going to have two purposes. The first one is to mark the tribe, or at least specifically those aspects of the tribe this night that are being honored. And the honoring has a two-fold purpose: the first one is to say, You’re good, I’m grateful, don’t stop; and the second is to pull together a gathering of those who are functioning in service here so that that energy might imprint itself on this space. The first you’ll see happening. The second you won’t, but it will. Have fun.

I’m talking tonight about service. Service. That is with a smile. That is when you eat, somebody doing service work comes and cleans your table off. Right? Or at least, when you’re not at home that’s the case. Service is what happens when you go and put fuel into your car, and they run out and they put the fuel in your car and they wipe down your windows. Aye.

Used to.

S: Some of you remember that.

A long, long time ago.

S: They don’t do that any more?


S: Now they have what?


S: Hello. Now they have self-service. Whatever does that mean?

You serve yourself.

S: You serve yourself. And that is not an absolute model for tonight’s talk? Let’s think about that for just a moment. You serve yourself. Why would you ever do that?

It’s faster.

S: It’s faster. It’s faster. It’s cheaper. Now, you’ll have to explain that one for me.

Well, you would have to compensate the person for serving you, so if you serve yourself, it’s a little faster and you don’t have to pay that extra compensation.

S: Because you’re not having to figure in the wages?


S: Of the serving personnel. By self-service you are saving money. All right. That one works. Self-service.

Well, ultimately, when you serve others, you ultimately serve yourself.

S: Oh now, you’re about a page ahead of me here. That’s right. Ultimately in serving others you are serving yourself. Aye.

If you serve yourself, you free up the other person or the people to do other things.

S: That’s very good. And when you are serving yourself, you’re opening the door for others to be able to take care of their needs and not have to cater to yours the whole time.

And we are being responsible for ourselves.

S: And you’re being responsible for yourselves. That’s right. I have often said—bottom line—that everything that you do, everything that you do—and just in case I was not clear about that—what I said was every thing that you do, you do because it serves you somehow. Now, think about that for a moment. Every thing that you do.

Er, Samuel, I have this self-destructive part of myself, and clearly that’s not serving me. How is that good for me? I did not say it was good for you. I said you do it because it serves you, including the nasty little habits, the disgusting little things that you hope nobody else ever sees, including those parts of you that are codependent and dysfunctional. There’s a very interesting little thing going out in mass consciousness right now that says, Lets put the fun back in dysfunctional. Aye, do you know that one?

Bumper sticker.

S: Is that a bumper sticker? Aye, Bonnie, did you do that? Even those dysfunctional parts of yourself, in one way or another, are serving you, and if how they are serving you is to give you a kick in the behind or to make you miserable, what you need to be asking yourself is, How does being miserable serve me? Why is it I think that I’m so unworthy that I must have this in my life that constantly proves it to me? Because you might find out—and, of course, I’m just icing over this one very quickly—you might find out, for instance, that constantly being held back keeps you from being able to use your power. Constantly thinking that you are unworthy allows you to never have to try very hard, because you’ll surely fail. Constantly having somebody in your family or where you work or in your marriage that keeps putting you down keeps you from ever having to try harder. Sometimes the sickness is a benefit.

But also in your life there are those aspects in which you know are success. Those parts of yourself in which you try to make it good.

[Coughing] These [pointing to flowers on stage next to him], let’s try moving them off. Thank you, love. ‘Tis a pity. Aye well now, you know, there it is.

One of the things that you’re doing when you’re allowing good aspects of your life to come through, the gifts that you give to yourself, the positive times that you put yourself out in the world, it’s very easy to claim that those are things that you’re doing for yourself, but it’s not so easy when it’s the negative aspects of your life. But the fact of it is, everything that you do, you do because you get something from it. Whether what you get is something you want, might be up for discussion, but it’s there because it’s giving you something. Indeed, self-service is a very large aspect of life, but not so much the aspect that we’re talking about tonight. So let’s reel that one back in and go back to that road where we are discussing service.

In the past, when I’ve had the opportunity to talk about service, I have used an example of building a cathedral. Somebody remember the story there?

[…] desire and bricklayers.

S: Good. Good. If the vision is to build a cathedral, there are very many different people who are working on it—very many different kinds of people. And in life you can fairly well look at everything that you’re doing and allow this story and the parts of it to fit into that as well.

There are those who are the designers of the cathedral—it’s just not going to work there is it? [referring to a cup he was trying to place on a small table next to him]—whose work is to have the whole blueprint in mind. This is what it’s going to look like. There are those who specialize in—oh, probably at the very beginning—clearing the space., taking out the trees, and moving over the rocks that are going to impede what is going to be built here. There are those who are putting down the bricks. Every particular aspect is needed. You cannot do without any one of them.

Within the group of bricklayers, there will also be—and that’s also true with every one of those aspects—those who are there because they are wanting a job. They need it. They’ve got to take care of feeding the dog and themselves. And then there are those who are there because they really like overtime work, because having a job that allows them a lot of extra overtime gives them extra money to buy more dogs. And then there are those who are doing the work because they’re not just putting in time, and they’re not just working for the benefits. They‘re doing it because they, too, have that vision of that great cathedral. And in every aspect of the building of that cathedral you will find those different aspects of service in each one of those groups. And, of course, as I have said in those discussions,  Where are you? Are you putting in time? Is every little extra bit that you do done so that you can have a few frills, or are you building a cathedral? And, indeed, that’s a good way to think about service, but that’s not where I’m going tonight either. I’ve got a different story this night. So sit yourself back a moment.

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a place far, far away, there was a beautiful village. It takes a village . . . sorry. There was a beautiful village, but it was far away from anybody. It was a long distance from any neighboring village, and as time progressed this village became more and more isolated. Why would that have happened? As time continued, it became more isolated. Why?

People flock to the cities for jobs and abandon the village.

S: True. True. Happens all of the time, doesn’t it? What’s another reason that a village might become more isolated?

People forget that it’s there.

S: That’s true. That’s true. Aye.

The interstate doesn’t go through it.

S: The interstate bypassed it, right. And also because they’re so self-sufficient, they have fewer and fewer needs to get out and get to know others, and then that adds to more of the difficulties in which it’s forgotten that it’s there, the interstate ends up going in a different direction. The people who live there, the young people, tend to go off and they don’t return. Frank.

If they don’t have any services that they’re offering out into the world, there’s no reason for anyone to know that they’re there.

S: So there’s not a whole lot going on that draws people to it. And over time this place became more and more isolated, until there finally was a point that the elders in town began looking around and saying, “You know, we’ve got some real problems here. We have been sitting in this space for so many generations and it is so beautiful and we love it so much, and we have become so self-sufficient and we have learned how to make the best possible use of your resources, and we have a sort of a problem going on now.”

Can you imagine what that problem might be?

They need a Web site.

S: Other than needing a Web site, what that problem might be?

[Indicating next to Samuel] There’s a big spider coming down here.

S: Hmm, wanting to join? [spider is removed] It’s never dull. You’ve got a very isolated group of people. There isn’t outsiders coming to visit. Eventually what’s going to happen?


S: Yes. They’re going to start running out of new blood. They’re going to start running into a few troubles because of that, aren’t they? They’re going to notice that . . . oh, well, let’s see, we’ll add to this village that they had great taboos against getting any closer than a specific mark within the genetic line, and pretty soon that meant there were no more babies coming in, and there was no more progression and growth in the village, and they were going to be stuck. And the last of the babies that had been born were growing up and it was very clear that they weren’t going to have any mates if something did not happen, and that this was the generation where things were going to end.

Hear me, this beautiful, isolated village which has given to those that live there everything they could want so that they quit looking around, so that very slowly the jungle crept up the borders, so that this village became isolated to the point that the last possible generation was now there living. What could they do?

Well, they had some really good choices in front of them. One of the choices, of course, was the one that several of the elders suggested, and that was just “Let us all die off. It’s not worth the effort anyway. We’ll never get through the jungle. Nobody’ll ever come see us. Let’s just let this be the last.”

There was discussion about, “Well, what if we chopped our way through the jungle?” and even a couple of parties were sent out to try to do that. Two or three really good efforts were made. Some might say four or five good efforts were made, depends on how you count it. And they would go out into the jungle, and of course the first group, well they got frightened away by the spiders. I did have a visual here, but it’s gone now.

That’s because I entered the Web site and there it came.

S: There it was. There it was.

Another group went out into the jungle, and they found it so hot they felt as though they were being destroyed by fire, and so they had to return back. Another group went out, and it was rainy season—don’t you know—and because it was rainy season they just felt as though they were flooded out and they could not do anything about it, and they returned back. And they said, “There’s nothing you can do. You cannot get through it. You’re going to be stopped somehow, be they plagues of arachnids or fire or flood. We’re stuck.”

Amongst those children that were going to be that last generation, there was one who thought, I don’t know, that doesn’t seem right. I’ve played a lot in the jungle. I think it’s possible to get through. You’ve got to not be afraid of it, and to know it and to become its friend so that you recognize when it’s too hot and you know when it’s going to be rainy and you know how to get around the hazards and the bugs. But I think it’s possible. I think it could be done. And this child began speaking and saying, “It can be done. You’re giving up too fast. Come on, let’s do it. Let’s do it.”

Well, of course, you know what happened. The child was laughed at, and when that did not stop him, the child was ridiculed, and eventually people just stopped listening. And that’s the time that most stop. “I think something can be done. What if we do this?”

“Hah, we’ve already tried it. It’s worthless. You cannot do it.”

“I think it could be done!”

“You must be nuts.”

“I think it can be done, let’s try it.”

“It’s not worth it. I will not hear you. I will not see you.”

But this is a hardened little being—must have been. Hardened, because obviously the desire to get out was stronger than the desire to stay in. And as a result that child, oh, probably started with a stolen kitchen knife, and just went out into the jungle and started cutting out weeds. Looked for animals’ paths to use and make larger. Just began hacking away.

As is very often the case, once it looked like a little progress had been won through that incredibly dense jungle, a few more people came and said, “Well, looks like you’ve gotten a little farther than I thought you would. Let me give you a hand here.” Because you know it’s always so much easier once somebody else has started.

And to shorten this story tremendously, eventually those children died. Are you awake? Eventually, although it was not all at the same time, it is true those children did die, but before that happened, there had been a greater and greater number of people who saw what could be done, because they saw what had been done. Did you get that? They saw what could be done because they saw what had been done. And as a result they began to help.

And although it took a very long time, a road was carved out of the jungle, and it would be very nice to say that everybody lived happily ever after and industry came into the area, and . . . and. . . . And all of that may be so; it’s not my point. My point is it would not have happened if there had not been one who said, I’ll try.

The miracle in this world is not that you have incredible technology, that you have beautiful high buildings, that you have rockets taking you into space. It’s that at a time when everyone said it cannot be done, somebody said, “Why? I’ll try.” When the road could not be built, one person said, “I’ll do it anyway.” And in your world you are constantly faced with that.

You’ve heard the expression often enough, “It’s a jungle out there.” And in a whole lot of ways, I suppose it is. It’s wild out there. It’s hard for the light to get in, and everything that grows there has adapted to the shade, the partial light, the cycles of flood and fire. And everybody here knows you cannot get through that jungle. Don’t try.

The miracle is the one who is willing to say, “I’ll do it.” Not even the one who holds the vision to begin with. Not even the one who gets the idea, but the person who puts forth the first step, holding the paring knife saying, “I’ll do it.” They are the rare ones.

What does it take to be one of those? Foolishness, obviously.

Anybody here who has ever sought security knows that standing out on your own is foolish. You cannot be secure if you make a spectacle of yourself. But if you don’t step out there, you’ll never go anywhere. So it’s that one who is willing to go one step further—one minute more. That takes you—takes the world—where it needs to go.

Right now you’re at a time on this planet in which you are on your—oh, depending upon which stories of creation you are listening to—it’s what, the fourth or the fifth time that this experiment has had its try. It’s a time in which humanity is extremely satisfied with where it is. It knows that whatever it is that’s out there is probably not safe, therefore huddle together. It’s all right if we’re not happy, but we’re safe. And you have a world full . . . you have a world full of cloned sheep. And you know what I’m talking about, because you’ve been one of them. Right? Ba-a-a.That’s a sheep isn’t it? Aye.

And when, from Mount Olympus—why not?—the gods were looking down and said, “I don’t know, I’m sort of getting tired of this game. It’s just not working real well, and look, they’re getting really inbred. Not thinking real well any more. I think probably it’s time to just let it go,” there around that sacred circle there was a little voice heard in the back of the room: “Wait! Wait! Don’t. One more chance.” And, of course, the Olympians sort of looked at one another. “You there in the back, come forward.” And trembling before them was—oh, what might you call? Angel is a handy word. Handy. Not accurate, but handy word—saying, “One more chance.”

“You think they deserve one more chance?” the Olympians asked.


“All right. Go ahead.”

And that one started heading toward the earth. And when one did, another and another and another until there was a great group of beings hovering right close to atmosphere—for story’s sake, of course—saying, “All right. Here we are. What can we do? What are the ways we can hack through the jungle?”

Some of them said, “I will wait and watch here. I’m afraid to go down there. You know, you stick your foot in that village and your foot’s corrupted. It’s not worth it. I could do more just holding the energy here.”

But there were a few who said, “I want to go there and be with them. And I’ll pass along what I know.”

Of course those that were going to just hang out on the edges and hold on and keep the life at the invisible aspect of things said, “You won’t remember. You won’t be able to teach them a thing, because you won’t remember.” Nevertheless, they just took a dive.

And on this planet now are those who—generations of personalities having passed, generations of hacking away at the veil of not remembering—who are beginning to remember that they have come here to help. In galactic time, that’s just a quick breath. They have come here to keep it working.

What do they do? Well, their purpose is to show what Source is like. To be ambassadors, if you will, out of the jungle, back to Source. But in order to do that, it means that they are the road crew. Those that could be kings and queens of greater realms are here with metaphorical shovels and picks, building roads and bridges, because that’s how the jungle is tamed.

This work is not about teaching you some alternative religious theory so that you might have a “happily ever after.” You can get that out there somewhere. Seek. You’ll find it. This work is not about those who are beginning to awaken to their spiritual selves. This is way too frightening for that. This is a work that is a magnet. It’s a magnet for a frequency of energy that has come to this planet for a particular purpose: to be the construction angels of the Source.

And if you wonder if it’s possible that you might be one of those, ask yourself this question: Throughout my life, have I always been dissatisfied because I knew somehow, some way, there was more than just this? In my life, have I found myself to be flighty or fickle because I would get involved in something and then get tired of it, and move on to something else and something else and something else, even at a young age?

Ask yourself, Is it that I have a difficult time in relationships because I keep thinking love is more than this one? Now, you see, that did not even ask the big question: Have you been waiting for the mother ship forever? No, I’m just joking. Waiting for the mother ship!

You don’t come to this work because you’re ready; you come to this work because you’re waiting, knowing that ready is there. You’re here because you’ve chosen to be; and because you are, so am I.

And what is created from that are roads. And to build a road it takes those who survey the path. And it takes those with a shovel willing to go out and just dig. And it takes those who pick up the rocks. And it takes those who break the rocks open into smaller rocks so that they can be more easily moved. Some of you have been breaking a lot of rocks. It takes those who know how to run the big stuff so that things can flow more easily. It takes those who bring water to the person digging in the sun. It takes those who scare off the bears, the jungle cats, so that there is safety. And there comes a time that it takes those who will direct the traffic on the road that was built, because it doesn’t end. When you’ve built the road, it’s not over. That’s when the fun starts.

You do what you do because it serves you somehow. And what it is you choose to do says a lot about what you serve. That’s two kinds of serve there. You got that? You do what you do because it serves you. What serves you tells you about you.

When what you are doing is building a road out of the proverbial jungle, that those who have been so isolated to their truest natures, so isolated that they have given up hope and believe that all there is is this tiny village, to those your road building skill is a miracle. To those, your ability to begin cutting the path seems sort of crazy at first, until they see their use in it. That always makes a difference.

When what you are here to do is serve Source—which is a lot different than serving pumpkin pie—when what you are here to do is serve Source, what you do changes the nature of the whole world. And what you may see only is that you are digging on this never-ending road, and you are getting old cracking these same rocks, and it can be easy to forget that without you surveying that line, without you keeping those bears away, without you it would not happen.

Because of you, it will happen. What are you doing in your world to build roads? Do you spend time complaining because there’s so much to do? Are you too good to crack a few rocks, because you’ve been trained to move the big stuff? What are you willing to do to get that road built? If getting the road built is what you want, you’ll do anything. And you’ll do it for two reasons: you can’t help yourself, and you can’t help yourself.

Your world needs more road builders. Look at the vision you use to lead your life. Why are you here, now that you’re here? What are you doing to help the village? That’s where it is now.

[Instead of closing the session as usual, Samuel proceeded with a special program for Phoenix’s volunteers.]