A Lifelong Theme of "Love" and "Death"
From April 1993 to June 2005, for a little over twelve years, I studied alongside everyone through my participation in the seminars. From the very beginning of my learning, I felt certain that my personal themes were "love" and "death."
That is not to say that my heart took no interest in channelers, channeling, or past lives. On the contrary, I too had the desire to become a channeler and to know about my past lives. Yet those desires proved to be only fleeting. Each time I joined a seminar, I felt that my thoughts lay at a much deeper level. This became clearer when, not long after I began, I realized that I was growing dissatisfied with what was called "channeling."
As I have written before, until a major turning point occurred, I had long placed my trust in the power of the physical self. Even after joining the gatherings, I could not easily break through the hard shell of the physical body, and my heart remained in a dull, unfeeling state. Still, from the beginning, it was clear to me that I wanted to trust only what arose from within myself, only what I could truly feel inside. For that reason, I believe I simply kept looking back on the thoughts I had used throughout my life.
If harsh, resentful feelings welled up toward someone, I realized they were not directed solely at that person but had been used toward all sorts of people and situations. Indeed, though the other may change, the self remains the same. I learned that in the world of consciousness, unless my own heart and thoughts changed, swapping faces or altering circumstances would change nothing.
My own personal theme—"love" and "death"—is one I will continue to face within myself from here on.
I was someone who had wandered on without understanding "love" or "death." To settle accounts with that self from the past was, to me, an act of love toward myself. And that love, in turn, was what would tell me how to face the ultimate scene for every human being—death—on my own terms. For that purpose, I had prepared the time and space of the life I now hold in the physical body.
My foolish physical self had persisted, unrepentantly, in living out a foolish physical life—being born, dying, then being born again and dying again, over and over—an endless cycle in which I had accumulated nothing but suffering through countless reincarnations.
Now, I feel it is about time to put a period to all of that. I was born to my mother in this life, having written out the scenario of my own life with this intent. That is why the time I have in this life is so very precious to me. I feel that I took on this present body in the midst of a life-or-death choice, with all my might.
Because of the intensity of that resolve, I have deeply and persistently felt within myself a certain dissonance from the common notions of happiness and joy held by the world. Even when I experienced what society calls happiness or joy, there was always some part of me that would rise up to deny it. I would feel the self that rejoiced—"I'm happy, I'm delighted"—and at the same time, the self that told me, No, that's not it. I have long carried within me the question: What does this mean?
The Importance of Looking at the Heart
and
Taking a Third-Party Perspective
Of course, until I arrived at the truth, my longing for the joy and happiness of the physical world was strong. I kept wondering what would have to happen, and what I would need to do, to truly feel happiness and joy from the depths of my heart. I also believe I made efforts in the physical sense. But in truth, no matter how hard I tried, I never found an answer that truly satisfied me. I sensed that something was missing from myself, that something was lacking—but I never knew what that "something" was.
Even while leading a life immersed in the physical, I could never deceive myself about this. As I have described before, I came to understand this as a kind of "throbbing ache" within me. When something triggered it, that ache would resonate all the more strongly within me. I interpret this as something that pushed me forward, took form, appeared before my eyes, and urged me to awaken.
As my heart became more sensitive and began to grasp the truth, I came to understand this: the ache was something I myself was telling and teaching to myself. I often wondered—who is the "me" that tells and teaches me, and who is the "me" that hears it? In this way, I often observed myself from a third-party point of view.
Even after joining the study gatherings, I have felt that the work of looking at the heart requires this third-party perspective—stepping back and observing oneself from a distance. When you are caught in the midst of events, you cannot see the whole picture. I believe the same is true when it comes to looking at the heart.
I also think it is important to approach this work with the premise that the physical self is, without exception, foolish. When you do so, you realize there is no such thing as a "person of high moral character" as the world defines it. To go further, if one does not know the vibration called Albert, then even if someone is considered a person of high character in the physical world, in the world of consciousness that is never the case. This truth becomes unmistakably clear.
Dialogue with Oneself and Living with Responsibility
When we strip away all such physical attachments and look at the heart, we begin to sense things from an entirely different angle—even matters that, as human beings and by moral standards, we have accepted and let pass without question. This is because we start to perceive things not as forms, but as vibrations.
In the physical world, we may have deemed something acceptable, but when we begin to ask, What about the vibration, the energy that comes from it?, the picture can change. If we live our daily lives while sensing such things, there will inevitably come a time when we ask ourselves: Is this daily routine really okay? Is it enough that a day passes from morning to night like this? Is this truly how I want to live?
It is as if an inner ache begins to throb closer to the surface of the physical body. Of course, in such times, one way forward may be to talk with others about your worries, to seek answers, or to find possible solutions. By pouring out the thoughts you hold within, rather than brooding over them alone, you might open up a new path.
However, I would encourage you—especially in such moments—to turn all the more seriously and directly to yourself with these questions. The answer may not come immediately, but if you keep engaging in trial and error and continue your dialogue with yourself—in other words, if you continue the process of looking into your own heart—you will inevitably arrive at something that you yourself are telling and teaching yourself. And when you reach the conclusion that you have arrived at by your own process, you will be able to accept it. Even if it is slightly off from the direction of truth, you will naturally be able to make the necessary corrections.
On the other hand, if you neglect the work of looking into your own heart, it will only lead to endlessly shifting responsibility onto others. In any situation, it is ultimately you who must make the final decision. Even if you were acting on someone else's recommendation, the choice you made is still your own. Saying that person told me to or it was written here is, in my view, far too irresponsible and careless.
I believe that losing the spirit and determination to take responsibility for your own life means it is all over. Living that way, you will not even be able to obtain the joys and happiness of the physical world. Your life is something you should steer yourself. What, then, of a life left entirely in the hands of another? If you truly leave everything to someone else, perhaps that might be fine—but in reality, such a thing never happens. Living with discontent and frustration simmering somewhere in your heart is, I believe, a deep misfortune—indeed, nothing could be more pitiable.
Turning Consciousness and Breaking Free
from the Foundation of the Physical Self
No matter how fiercely one may have unleashed energy during the span of life we call "a lifetime," when I think of myself—here, now, existing as I am—I am left without words. In this present life, although I have never literally killed anyone, I have come to feel that in the world of the heart, in the world of consciousness, I have killed countless people. And the more I realize this, the more I find myself thinking, Am I truly allowed to be this happy now?
To reach such happiness, however, it is not enough to remain bound to the consciousness that identifies with the physical self. It can only be achieved by turning and freeing one's consciousness, and doing so with one's very life on the line.
Now, about this turning and liberation of consciousness: the expressions "Turning Consciousness" and "Turning the Heart" have appeared many times already in this book, so I would like to touch on them briefly here. In the course of daily life, through suffering, worry, and sorrow, people think about many things. We take time to ponder. And why do we think? I believe it is because, at the root of it, we want to be happy. Everyone wishes to live a happy life.
Yet when it comes to the question of how to achieve that, no one can give a clear answer. Most people, however, more or less believe—whether consciously or unconsciously—that money will bring happiness. They may refrain from bluntly declaring that money is everything, but in today's world, it is an unspoken truth that society revolves around money. When something happens, people rush about in matters related to money. In resolving problems, money is always involved. This is common sense in society, and because we live within it, we naturally follow its ways, even as we carry various personal motives.
But this only keeps us going in circles, never moving beyond. In the end, it is nothing more than sinking deeper into society's common sense. The foundation of the physical self—the belief that happiness and joy reside in a life centered on the physical body—stands immovably in our way.
Turning consciousness, turning the heart, begins with recognizing that we are standing upon that foundation of the physical self. It means changing the view that this physical body is who we are. It is to truly know in our hearts that this foundation is mistaken, and to dismantle it ourselves.
The conditions for happiness on the foundation of the physical self differ from person to person. A robust, vigorous body; a keen intellect; connections with those who love and are kind to you; a position or status that values you highly; abundant wealth—the list varies. But even if one were to acquire them all, I am convinced they cannot fill the loneliness and emptiness that storms through the heart. What about you?
Some may feel, That might be true. Others may say, No, I believe those things will make me happy, and I will work hard to obtain them.
On the other hand, what is the nature of the happiness that comes from a foundation not of the physical self, but of the world of consciousness? Is it, like in the physical world, different for each person? Here, the word "Albert" comes into play. This term has already appeared several times, and I will explain it in more detail later.
Happiness and joy based on the world of consciousness can be summed up in one thing alone: the vibrational world of Albert. The world of Albert is the only world of true happiness and joy. In the world of consciousness, there are no multiple choices as in the physical world.
And I must add: although religions and spiritual teachings abound in today's world, they too lie on the extension of the physical-centered worldview. Even if a teaching is praised as wonderful, or is said to explain the true path of human beings, they all share one thing in common—they are based on the foundation of the physical self. This is where I ask you to focus your attention.
Therefore, even if something bears the signboard of "world of consciousness," "world of vibration," or "mystical world," if its foundation is wrong, it is not the true world of consciousness. I hope you will understand this.
My Encounter with Tomekichi Taike and His Influence
At the beginning of this book, I wrote that the greatest turning point in my life in this present incarnation was my encounter with Tomekichi Taike. Of course, this encounter was a meeting between one physical being and another. Without it, the person I am today would not exist, and the series of experiences I have had in my everyday life would have been nothing more than fragments of an ordinary physical existence.
Getting married, losing my husband, and later losing my father to illness—these are the kinds of things that are all too common in the world. To go further, there are countless people who have endured hardships, faced difficult circumstances, and experienced sorrow. But I believe that no matter how many ordeals someone has gone through, it does not necessarily mean they have truly made those experiences into nourishment for their own growth.
If, when reflecting on one's life, one says, I have my present happiness precisely because I have endured such hardships and gone through these experiences, I would still ask: What exactly is that happiness? What exactly is your joy? Are you truly satisfied with who you are now? In the end, most people's answers rest on the foundation of the physical self. As a human being, you might say: In the course of this kind of life, I have had these kinds of experiences, and as a result I think this way, I feel this way. From here on, I hope for things to turn out like this, and I will do my best to make it so.
For me, it has been different. The events I have experienced in this lifetime are indeed common occurrences in the world. There is no shortage of people suffering from mental illness or cancer. What matters, however, is how one perceives and learns from those experiences. Without a doubt, such events are meant to prompt awareness. Yet most people do not take them that way.
Things happen around us to make us aware of something, but in most cases, our focus turns solely to dealing with the situation at hand. In simple terms, we search for ways to solve the problem: if money is needed, we do our best to raise it; if medical treatment is required, we seek out the most reputable doctors and the best-equipped hospitals. Then, when the immediate issues are resolved over time, that is the end of it.
It was Tomekichi Taike who taught me that such an approach does nothing to address the fundamental problem. Through my own experiences, I also came to feel that merely dealing with what was in front of me resolved nothing within me. By making my real-life experiences into turning points, I came to know a completely different self. In that sense, I believe I have truly made ordinary events into nourishment for my own growth.
With that in mind, I would like to share a little about what I have personally thought of Tomekichi Taike—about both his physical being and his consciousness—and about what he taught me regarding looking into the heart.
My first encounter with him was at a seminar venue. I knew he had been a mathematics teacher and had even served as a high school principal, but to me, that did not make him someone to be revered, nor did I attach any special weight to his career history. In fact, I disregarded it entirely. The truth is, I had little interest in him as a physical person at first.
We were far apart in age, he was not my type, and physically speaking, he was someone who seemed distant from my world. But I felt that the seminar was a place where I could learn the things I wanted to know, and so I wanted to attend. When I did, he would speak, but my first honest impression was that his talks, while having points that made me think I see, lacked concreteness and were hard to grasp. I often wished he would explain things in a way I could understand better.
Yet his message was always the same: Look into your heart. Reflect on your mother. Reflect on your reliance on outside powers. You cannot understand with your head—you can only understand with your heart. For someone like me, who was trying to understand with my head, his words felt like trying to catch hold of clouds.
Even so, whenever I went to a seminar, I would want to go again. I think I caused a fair amount of inconvenience to my colleagues at work because of that.
Practicing Looking at the Heart
and How to Receive Emotions
When it comes to looking into the heart, in a seminar setting, where Tomekichi Taike was present, it was natural for everyone to have various thoughts about him as a physical person. I was no exception—I voiced thoughts like, His talk lacks concreteness, or Explain it more clearly, letting such self-centered opinions run freely. This, of course, was simply evidence of my own inflated self-importance, though I did not realize this in my heart until much later.
Let me give one example regarding the practice of looking at the heart.
In the seminars, there would first be a talk by Tomekichi Taike, and when that ended, channeling was the main activity at the time. People known as "channelers" would begin to speak about the thoughts in others' hearts. Some even brought up past lives. They would describe events from eras of which I had no memory and speak of the kinds of thoughts I had used then. I listened to such things almost as if I were hearing a story.
At first, I listened to channeling with curiosity, and sometimes even with tears in my eyes. But before long, I began to feel unsatisfied with it. I especially grew weary of channelings about personal family troubles—what the husband felt, what the wife was thinking, how the child was doing. I came to feel there was no point in hearing such things endlessly. What I truly wanted to know was not that. And yet, I now look back and see that I was not looking into the depths of my own heart at all. I am certain that I looked down on those who sought channeling, elevating myself above them.
The real point of study was not the content of the channeling itself, but rather: What thoughts arise in my own heart in this situation? But I, too, was caught up in channeling and channelers. This was true for both those who listened and those who received channeling. How many people truly studied while looking into their own hearts? In such an environment, at the very least, Tomekichi Taike must have continued the seminars calmly while observing his own heart.
I often wondered—Can one really understand by looking at the heart? Isn't there a quicker way? If possible, I'd like to become a channeler myself. I did not easily realize that beneath such thinking was my own towering sense of self-importance. I was not truly looking at my heart. Even when I tried to, I was relying on my clever mind, trying to trace my heart's movements with my head.
Still, I now think it is fine to begin that way. As you persist, there will come a moment when you are startled by the realization of how foolish it was to try to grasp the world of the heart with your head. When told Just do it or Try it, the physical body should follow straightforwardly. I now understand that thoughts like What will happen if I do? or Will it really work? are completely unnecessary.
But understanding and practicing how to look at the heart does not happen overnight. Steadily, you simply keep watching your own shifting heart within yourself. You do not evaluate the thoughts that arise by the standards of the physical body, and you certainly do not compare them with others.
For example, if a thought or feeling of anger arises, simply look straight at that anger. If you feel, Damn it! Why is it like this? and sense the injustice of the matter, then first bring that thought to the surface. By "bring it out," I do not mean taking it out on people or objects, or covering it up with something else. I mean simply acknowledging that you are angry. Then, feel the suffering of being that angry self.
Some people cannot feel that suffering—because they believe themselves to be correct and admirable. If you confirm your anger while justifying yourself, your focus will always be directed outward, never toward yourself. That is not truly looking at the heart.
If you do feel the suffering, the next step is not to say, I suffer because that person is at fault or Because I suffered this injustice. People often say, No one can understand my anger, my sorrow, my suffering, and I agree. The pain and suffering of the heart can only truly be understood by the one experiencing them. There are limits to sharing the heart's pain with others, because each of us carries a different background in consciousness.
Understanding emotions as human feelings is different from truly understanding each other in consciousness. This is because such pain and suffering are brought about by oneself, within one's own world of consciousness, as a way to move toward the direction of truth. The only one who can truly understand your anger or other painful feelings is yourself—and deep down, everyone already knows this. Yet, even while saying No one can understand my suffering, we try to get others to understand, and that only deepens our suffering.
Thus, when you see your shifting heart day by day, and for example, encounter your own anger, it is good if you can think: Ah, I am angry now. I just need to accept this anger within myself. This is possible by recognizing both the self that is angry and the self that is observing that anger objectively. Tomekichi Taike taught that this work should be done calmly, without haste or interruption.
Ordinarily, anger just runs its course. This is not limited to anger—whatever the thought may be, it is important first to bring it out fully. But if you simply leave it there, it is no good. In most cases, days pass with the state unchanged.
Even if the feeling appears to have subsided, the cause has not been resolved, so something will arise again to draw out that same thought. You become angry again, more time passes, and eventually, that anger may even begin to eat away at your body's cells. When anger subsides, that does not mean it is gone—once the conditions are right, it will spring forth again. That is how the world of consciousness works.
As you continue, you may start to wonder why anger arises within you even when the person changes or the situation changes. At that point, if you can think, Perhaps this person is here, and this situation has arisen, precisely to draw out my anger, then you are already halfway there.
Yes—your focus should not be on the other person or the event in front of you. For that awareness to take root in your heart, you will need both the practice of looking at your heart and the passage of time. That is why I say it cannot be understood in a single day.
The Relationship Between the Physical and
Consciousness,
and My Conviction About Albert
Here, I would like to share something I have felt through my relationship with Tomekichi Taike.
At first, I regarded Mr. Taike simply as a teacher of the learning and thought of him as someone distant from me. But about two or three years after I began, he started occasionally murmuring a word or two to me whenever something happened. And rather than encouragement or praise, they were always things I did not want to hear. They may have been casual remarks to him, but to me they pierced straight into my heart. I would swallow down my "damn you" feelings, keeping my face composed—over and over again. Perhaps he was telling me, Look into your heart, but at the time I only thought of him as someone who said unpleasant things. I even wondered why he was bothering me so much.
Once, he said to me, "You're wearing a fine suit, Tax Accountant." Even in my insensitivity, I understood that "suit" referred to my physical self. But I thought, If that's what you mean, why not just say it directly? and once again I was ready to cross swords with him.
To the heavily armored and helmeted physical self that would not easily yield, Mr. Taike's consciousness related with the utmost kindness. Yet in my immaturity, I could not receive that kindness.
It was only when my physical self began to loosen—when my heart was becoming more sensitive—that I truly began to feel those words as coming from kindness. While my "damn you" feelings would erupt, I also began to sense an indescribable warmth and gentleness through his physical presence. I realized: I had been seeing him only as the physical body, hearing him only with the physical body, reacting with opposition—everything was according to the standards of the physical body. And because of that, I had let his kindness and warmth pass me by without recognition.
Of course, this was not only toward Mr. Taike's physical form. He made me realize the error of relating to everything purely on a physical-body basis. Without meeting him, I would still be holding my physical self aloft, never loosening the energy that runs to the physical body, never discovering the joy of turning that energy inward to my own heart. That is why meeting Tomekichi Taike was the greatest turning point of my life—it was the meeting with an entirely different self.
Those who have met him will know: in appearance he is an ordinary old man. I once let slip the word "old geezer," but it was an expression of gratitude from my heart. This "old geezer" continued the seminars not by driving his aging body with a whip, but in a way that could truly be said to be putting his life on the line. It is well known that he asked for no payment, no honor, nothing at all—he was simply a physical being and consciousness come to convey the truth. I was quick to recognize this, and to have realized it within myself is my good fortune.
The physical body and consciousness of Tomekichi Taike, and my own physical body and consciousness—this meeting in the present lifetime is something we both rejoice in from the bottom of our hearts. One of us came from the world of truth, the other from the depths of hell—yet in reality, the two were one. From events as common as any in this world, I had finally given myself the moment of awakening.
I feel and am convinced in my heart that my world of consciousness had planned this meeting with the consciousness that bore the physical body of Tomekichi Taike. To those who know only the world of form, such an expression may not make sense—and I understand that. That is why I explain as much as I can. But there are limits. The parts that cannot be expressed in words must be realized in one's own heart, through one's own process of looking within. The true world of consciousness is not one that can be understood with the head.
When you have the physical body, you over-rely on the head. I, too, made that mistake for a long time. Fortunately, I realized the limit early on and was able to change my direction. Yet society at large remains head-first, economy-first. Bearing that fully in mind, the question becomes: In what direction will you live from here?
My regard for Tomekichi Taike is unwavering. Of course, as physical beings both he and I are foolish, but I have also seen his sincerity as a physical person. I have caught glimpses of the depth of his dedication in walking the path of truth. In a world plastered over with lies, the joy of having met such a person is endless. And needless to say, when I turn my thoughts to the world of consciousness, it goes without saying.
In this life, the world of truth brought forth the physical body of Tomekichi Taike. Two hundred and fifty years from now, the world of truth will again bring forth a physical form—this time with the very name "Albert." The world of truth is Albert. The physical body of Albert in this life is Tomekichi Taike; the physical body of Albert in 250 years will be Albert himself.
My world of consciousness has already grasped this. That is why the plan is for me also to take on the physical body in both this lifetime and again 250 years from now, when Albert will be in physical form.
I am already convinced within myself that I was born with a physical body in this life to meet the vibration of Albert. It is clear to me that the scenario of meeting Albert's vibration is both my present life and my next.
What I sought was to meet the vibration of Albert—in other words, to meet my true self. This was the cry of my heart, the truth I had been searching for. Faithfully and sincerely, my time will continue to flow according to that cry of the heart. That is who I am now, and that is the very flow of consciousness. This is why, as I said at the beginning, I can say, My life is happy. Not because of who is there, not because of what is there, but because I have met my true self—this fact speaks to me within.
I am now walking my path exactly according to the scenario I have written for myself. That path already connects to 250 years in the future, and I believe and confirm that it also extends beyond, into the further reaches of my world of consciousness. For now, I am simply savoring my own being and the world of Albert.
Within me now, I have reached the point of sensing the flow of consciousness that is the dimensional shift. Along with my next life 250 years from now, I feel the many selves within me waiting for the moment when joy will blossom toward even greater truth.
The Meaning of Albert and Awakening from the False Self
What I have described so far is the broad outline of the path of learning I have walked. Now I would like to share a little more about what Albert is—what it means to be with Albert, or to encounter Albert—together with my present thoughts.
Over the twenty years of seminar activities, many people, I believe, learned through the stages of "God," "Child of God," and "El-Ranty Taike." Among them, are there not some who still feel a catch in their hearts, wondering: How is Albert's world different from those worlds? Why Albert, and why not God, Child of God, or El-Ranty Taike?
I do not say "different" or "wrong," but rather that the learning has evolved. The world of consciousness is profoundly deep. When one reaches the stage of truly understanding the vibration of Albert, the terms "God," "Child of God," and "El-Ranty Taike" are already completely obsolete. Nevertheless, I think some who have been learning for many years still carry remnants of that earlier stage. Inevitably, their level remains that of that time.
While writing this book, I felt that this situation is untenable, and that I should speak about it here. It may be best to understand that the level of the world of consciousness has advanced greatly compared to that earlier period. I hope readers will face themselves honestly and walk forward together.
I must also say that without changing yourself—that is, without turning your consciousness—nothing in your situation will change. Harsh though it may sound, this is the truth of the world of consciousness. I am glad that I have grown to the point where I can now state this so clearly.
So, what is Albert? In a word, it is vibration—the one and only positive energy—and it refers to the true self.
Strictly speaking, it does not have to be called "Albert." But living in a society of words as we do, having a shared term to point our hearts toward the world of true vibration is useful. That is why the term "Albert" is used. It is also, of course, the name of Tomekichi Taike's physical body in his next life. But if you see Albert only in that narrow sense, you will misunderstand the original meaning of "to be with Albert."
And no, it is not true that any common term would do. Since "God," "Child of God," and "El-Ranty Taike" are already dead terms, Albert is the most accurate expression at this point in time.
What I most want you to know is that the world of true vibration exists, unshakably. In other words, your true self exists, unshakably. And the only way to realize this is through your own heart. The most important thing is to know in your heart that you yourself are Albert—that your true self is energy, and moreover, positive energy.
Because Albert means positive energy and the true self, everyone has always felt Albert and has always existed together with Albert. But human beings have long believed that they are their physical bodies, that the world of form—including themselves—is the real thing. This is why we can no longer feel Albert—the false self has blocked off the true self.
We spend our days in this condition. And we must never forget that it is we ourselves who created it. Because we created it, we can also return ourselves to our original state. That is what it means to live together with Albert. To encounter Albert is to encounter your true self, to revive your true self.
How can this be done? First, by realizing that you have been generating negative energy. You must realize that you have neglected your true self and continually created a false self. And how do you realize this? By devoting yourself to looking at your heart in the course of daily life.
Whenever you say or do something, there must be a thought behind it. When someone says something to you, you also think something in return, and then either voice it or show it in your attitude. Even if you do neither, you will still think something. When you see or hear what someone else does, you will also think various things about it. Sometimes these thoughts erupt from the heart as intense emotions, becoming your words and actions. At other times, your heart may be filled for no reason with emptiness or loneliness—or you may be elated, in high spirits, your heart dancing with joy.
In every case, these are the false selves you have created. This false self now appears full-scale through your present body. If you do not look into your heart, you will be swept along by each of these. You will be tossed about in the gap between your true self and your false self.
In the world of form, this gap appears as various worries and sufferings that seem to cause your distress. But from the perspective of Albert—your true self—they are nothing but joy. This is because these worries and sufferings are messages to yourself, urging you to awaken from the false self to the true self.
By looking at your heart, you will come to understand this for yourself. Then you will naturally come to think: Let me gladly accept my false self. And you will realize that there is no such thing as "negative"—that all is positive, all is Albert. In the learning, this process was referred to as self-redemption.
Recognizing the false self, accepting it, and transforming it into the true self—this can only be done within Albert, within positive energy. Having long swelled with negative energy, it is only when we take on physical form that we can come to know the existence of positive energy—that is, the existence of our true selves.
This is why we, as consciousness, take on form—why we are born. When you truly understand this, you will know what a joy it is, what happiness it is, to live a life in which you meet Albert while having the physical body; to live together with Albert.
And if you look earnestly into your heart, anyone can feel this for themselves.
When we speak of a "life of meeting Albert" or a "scenario," it may sound as if it is something special. But in fact, this is true for all human beings. Each of us has set up our lives to meet Albert—the positive energy—yet until now we have lived and died without realizing it. From now on, as the world of form collapses on a grand scale, people will finally begin to awaken to it. I am certain this is the flow of consciousness.
If you continue to look into your heart, you will see that Albert's world is literally infinite, and that the negatives you have created are limitless. This is never a world of "I've done it" or "I've understood it." That is why, when I think about my future self, only joy expands. Because in my heart, I come to feel that the limitless negatives are also limitless positives.
Of course, I feel this deeply. My path toward Albert has only just begun in this lifetime. I am walking it step by step, and have already connected it to 250 years from now. From there, through the dimensional shift, I now stand in the certainty that I will exist forever.
If you ask me what Albert is, I will answer without hesitation: Albert is everything to me. This is not an exaggeration. Having met the real thing and knowing it to be myself, I now feel joy and happiness—joy and happiness that are exactly what I had longed for most.