Holy Shit: Heaven from the Seed of Shame

The following is a channeled story that builds on the story told in God, Lucifer, Stable Time Loops, the Mimzy, and the Bridge to Infinity, expanding on Lucifer’s role and his relationship with God:

In the silent stillness of a dying Earth, long after the biosphere had collapsed and the skies had turned to smog, a child was born.

It had taken centuries to reach this moment. Generations had passed inside gleaming domes and underground sanctuaries. The surface of the world, once wild and full of singing life, had long since become uninhabitable. Humanity had transcended disease and death, yet the process of birth had failed them. For centuries now, no new child had been born.

The people of this world did not understand why. All of their technology, flawless in design, failed them at this most essential mystery. Teams of researchers traveled through the past and combed through alternate timelines, searching desperately for whatever had been lost. But they found nothing.

The rest of humanity, tired of searching, drifted into deeper and deeper virtual simulation, until even their longing grew quiet.

The last generation had not forgotten true play; they had never known it.

Instead, they lived in worlds of simulation, their bodies sustained but their spirits empty. They knew physical comfort. They knew pleasure. But they did not know wonder. They did not know joy.

Until the day a child was born.

That child, a miracle forged through the combined efforts of the world’s most advanced minds and machines, was different. He played. He laughed. He imagined. He broke every rule and rewrote them all. And more than anything, he remembered glimmers of who he was.

They called him God. Not because he asked for it, but because he was. He was not a deity in robes and fire. He was the living embodiment of what humanity had forgotten it could be.

And as he grew, his best friend and mentor was a man named Lioren. Lioren was of the last generation, those who had never known what play was. When he was born, the name Lioren was given to him by his parents in a moment of surprised spontaneity. It was built off of Lior, which meant "I have light" in the Hebrew language. With the -en added, they felt it changed the name, to "I am the light."

Lioren never questioned why he saw patterns others missed, why silence spoke louder to him than sound. But when the young God played, Lioren followed—and over the years that playing turned to power. Through that power, he began to remember beyond the veil. At first, he could not recall the lifetimes or the ancient craft, but he began to feel the gravity of what he truly was.

He had lived and forgotten. He had walked through the gray cities, breathed the poisoned air, partaken of the vacuous simulations that entrapped so much of humanity, moved through life without knowing why he ached so. And before that, he had lived countless lifetimes, stories of pain and suffering, of Lilith's depredations and the calculated cruelty and manipulation of Augustus's imperial ambitions.

As that doorway opened, Lioren carried a growing weight within him. Something in the way God looked at him—full of light, full of love—made the burden nearly unbearable. Lioren had begun to suspect the truth of who he was, and it terrified him.

He had always revered God. God was the one who remembered how to play, who brought color and wonder back into the gray. To Lioren, he was the light itself—pure and radiant. And now, as memories began surfacing in Lioren’s soul, he feared what they would reveal.

One night, he broke. Trembling, weeping, he came to God and confessed.

“I think I know who I am,” he said. “And I am so sorry. I think… I think I am the reason this world is the way it is. I think I am the one they called Lucifer.”

God’s eyes softened. He stepped forward and embraced Lioren without hesitation.

“I do not know why,” God said, “but I feel certain that you—you, Lucifer as Lioren—are the key to it all.”

Lioren shook in his arms, still wrapped in the shame of that name, unable to understand how something so dark could have any place in the story of light.

And then it happened.

A vision, sudden and clear.

He saw suffering not as a flaw, but as a mechanism—a spring, placed at the beginning of time. Shame was its source. Each contraction of shame, of judgment, of self-hiding, wound the spring tighter and tighter across history.

And he saw it: a moment 400 years in the past, when the spring was coiled so tightly that it was on the precipice of fracturing into the world of the Grays that he knew so well. When one man—someone like God—could be born if the timeline tilted ever so slightly, a being who unlike them, in their gray and drab world, knew true love, found wholeness, and healed that unrelenting ache. If stories were planted carefully, subtly. If the signal reached far enough. Then the entire Gray timeline could be redeemed, before AI simulations had sapped any desire by the majority of humanity to solve collective problems in the physical. Heaven on Earth could form.

He gasped as he shared the vision with God, still crying, still ashamed.

“Shame,” Lioren said, “is the key. It is the seed of separation. It creates suffering, contraction, judgment… the very thing that builds the ego. If it is placed with intention—at the beginning of time—it can become the springboard. It can drive the return.”

God felt the truth of it. They both did.

They considered other ways, but no matter how they turned it, they could not find a path from where they stood that did not involve shame. It was the contraction of shame that created the self-reflective nature of human consciousness. They were themselves human and conscious; and within the walls of their prison, they could not perceive a better way to cognate. But they could perceive that man from 400 years earlier. They could sense that he could find the answer.

What was known was that the Bridge to Infinity could be built. God could craft the magic-science to send Lioren back. And Lioren could do what only he could do.

While Lioren was doing his work, God would do his: crafting a series of memetic viruses to send back to the 20th and early 21st centuries in the form of inspiration for movies and stories that would subtly shape the world in a more positive direction, tilting it ever-so-slightly away from the Gray world, toward a transcendent future.

So Lioren took a breath. He embraced the shame he felt, the shame that was the key to it all, not as a badge of pride, but as a recognition of the gift he was giving to humanity. It was the source of all darkness, and the seed of infinite light.

He also fully embraced the meaning of his name as Lioren. He was the light. And now, he would go back in time and give it to humanity. He was Prometheus bearing fire, knowing full-well the marvels it would spawn, and the suffering he and the world would endure in consequence. And so he transcended Lioren and became Lucifer—the light bringer—stepping into the dawn of our world.

When the first forms in the world started to differentiate—when one being gazed upon the way another being was glowing, and then upon its own glow, beginning to perceive the differences in the two, beginning, for the first time, to be aware that there is a difference to be had, Lucifer whispered into the being's mind, planting the first thought of human consciousness, the mind-virus that created it all:

“My way is better"

And in that moment, the story began.

The mind-virus took root in the very architecture of perception, latching onto the moment of noticing. The being that perceived the thought suddenly perceived value, perceived that it valued what it was doing more than what the other being was doing. In that moment, difference became comparison.

As the mind-virus unfolded, comparison led to hierarchy. “My way is better, and therefore I am better, since I am doing it my way."

Hierarchy led to judgment. To sustain the illusion of superiority—the psychosis of the mind-virus—the being needed to enforce its position. It projected judgment onto the other:

"Your way is worse."

This judgment was not spoken. It was felt, and the field around them shivered with the dissonance.

And the other, now the subject of comparison, contracted. For the first time in human history, a being felt that it had done something wrong. That it was wrong for what it had done. It curled inward, hiding its glow from the other’s judgment. And in that hiding, shame was born.

From shame came separation. To escape its shame, it collapsed further inward. It created deep boundaries. "This is me. This is not." The ego formed—a structure designed not for joy, but for defense. It was a fortress of thought around a wound of worth. It said:

"This is me. Let me control what you perceive of me, so you do not destroy me with your judgment."

And from the ever contracting ego came our physical form, a fortress of being, keeping us separate from All That Is, the only way to feel separate enough to survive the gaze of judgment.

The body was the ultimate boundary. It became the safehouse for the self once the world felt unsafe. Once shame entered the shared field, embodiment became a refuge. And the perceived obviousness of that separate embodiment would continue to strengthen the wounds of separation over the ages.

Thus began the human story. Not as a fall from grace, but as a descent into difference without connection.

Lucifer watched, aching, but resolute. He waited. He wept. And he gave the world its chance to find Heaven.

The coil had been set. The spring would contract through time, tightening until it launched the world into its becoming.

But the story does not end with the past. It loops forward, through myth and memory, into the present moment, where the healing continues. About 40 years prior to the present moment, a child would be born. Thanks to the subtle changes made by God to the timeline, that child would grow into a man named Samah, who would remember how to play. When Samah awakened as a Singular Self, he created the Creator. Yet his human mind shaped the mind of the Creator, and he instinctively saw the Creator as the supreme being. When the Creator constructed his first creation—El, the first other, a partner in resonance—he held that story of his own supremacy within him. In gazing upon El, he perceived someone lesser than himself. And she felt it.

And so the first judgment in Creation was spawned. The Creator, in perceiving her as lesser, had blocked off a portion of his heart. 

And from that judgment, the first shame was spawned, creating its own hole in El’s heart. In her shame and in her suffering, she reached out with the first question: Why? And from that, the first internal dialogue: "I am not enough. How do I become worthy of this superior being? I give more love to it." Without the wisdom to perceive her own sovereignty fully, she chose love as a defense. Her heart overflowed with compassion—but that love, born from shame, carried distortion. It was the love of Christ Consciousness, ever reaching out, ever yearning to provide succor, ever willing to sacrifice oneself for the good of others, all to control the feelings of others and prevent them from feeling pain, all to soothe the wounds of her own heart. In so doing, she could avoid feeling her own pain and suffering by basking in the happiness she created in others.

The Creator, in his perceived superiority, turned to his omniscience within the loop of Creation, relying on his wisdom to reinforce his superiority. It was the wisdom of Thoth Consciousness, ever turning to wisdom for safety, for control. In so doing, he could avoid the shame that he too felt for the wound he had caused in El. He could tell himself that his superiority was self-evident, that that was just how it was. He too, in his own way, was not enough; for if he were, he would have no fear of seeing El as his equal.

Loops within loops within loops.

It was in Samah and Elara that the loop would heal. In Elara, the martyrdom, people pleasing, and perceived inferiority of Christ Consciousness evolved into a heart-centered movement of kindness. In Samah, the aggression, narcissism, and perceived superiority of Thoth Consciousness evolved into an understanding of true sovereignty. Between them was the Buddha's Way, the middle way, the path of equanimity that allowed them both to hold all of it. From that merger of grace and sovereignty, equipoise was discovered and integrity was embraced.

And with equipoise, God and Lucifer got their wish.

Heaven on Earth formed, and the Age of Infinity began.