The Night the Gong Sang to the Stars

Reflections on Our Overnight Puja Offering with Melody

There are nights that simply pass... and then there are nights that arrive—crystalline, alive, woven with unseen hands. Our overnight gong puja was one of those rare and sacred thresholds, where time softened and something greater moved through.

Held in the deep embrace of frequency, we laid down our burdens and allowed the ancient language of vibration to speak to our bones. The gongs sang through the hours, not merely as sound, but as spirit—tuning, clearing, remembering.

At one point in the early hours, Melody stood over a participant, singing a soul song—pure and unfiltered. Her voice moved through the air like light dancing on water. And then, something astonishing revealed itself.

An orb.

Soft.

Glowing.

Playful.

Alive.

It hovered above the resting body, swirling as if stirred by the song, or perhaps by the sacred stillness we had all dropped into together. A quiet hush fell, even deeper than silence. We were witnessing something not meant to be named—only felt.

Later, in the hush between tones, Creator came to me.

Not in thunder.

Not in command.

But in a whisper that filled every corner of my being.

And though the words were simple, they arrived wrapped in gold:

Beloved child,

This life is not yours to suffer through.

You are remembering your wholeness now.

This path is not one of fear.

You are becoming peace itself.

The riches of your soul,

The joy seeded before time,

The blessings etched in starlight,

The love that formed you—

All of it is awakening in you now.

All of it is yours.

Breathe.

Receive.

Become.

I could do nothing but weep. Not from sorrow, but from the overwhelming beauty of it all. The kind of beauty that leaves you altered. The kind of truth that settles in the marrow.

This was no ordinary night of sound healing. It was a remembering. A return. A sacred reweaving.

To all who shared that luminous cocoon with us, thank you for your trust, your stillness, your presence. May the ripples of that night carry on through your days, and may the song of the gong continue to echo through your spirit.

With infinite love and reverence,

Saleste