Here Bartholomew clarified the announcement made the previous month that the formal presentations given through Mary-Margaret Moore would come to an end — within five years, and possibly sooner. He framed this not as a loss but as the natural completion of a cycle, and turned the occasion into a return to fundamentals: the single law that “there is only One,” the recognition that we are not fixed and separate beings but porous, ever-moving consciousness, and the practical work of dismantling limiting beliefs and enlivening the space between ourselves and everything else.
Context: This session was channeled on June 9, 1990. Bartholomew opened by responding to a request to clarify what was said the previous month about “the ending time of our work together, at least on this level of appearances” — the statement that “in five years' time, this will be finished,” after which Bartholomew will no longer speak through Mary-Margaret in this form. He explained this was not solely a matter of Mary-Margaret's safety but the coming to an end of deep cycles, and that the greatest love was to let everyone go and do what they needed to do. He invited listeners to keep sending questions to Taos in the intervening months so that intellectual and emotional questions can be calmed, leaving only the blending with the energy that is. He then announced that the rest of the talk would “go back to some of the basics” — both for those hearing them for the first time and so that longtime listeners can recognize how much has already changed within them.
The Ending as the Completion of a Cycle: Bartholomew presented the coming end of the formal sessions as a natural and loving conclusion rather than an abandonment. When a group comes together, completes a cycle of work, and the time arrives to move on, the greatest act of love is to release everyone to go where they are called. The consequence, he explained, is that there will no longer be any need for an intermediary of this or any other kind. Each person will be responsible for making their own deeper connection with what he calls the “deep self” — the deepest, most wondrous part of oneself, the God self. The purpose of the remaining months was therefore to prepare people to stand on their own, to calm their lingering questions, and to trust the connection they have been building all along.
“There Is Only One” — the Governing Law: The heart of the teaching is the single law that there is only One. It is precisely because of this law, Bartholomew said, that it ultimately does not matter whether he'd ever speak again through Mary-Margaret, just as it does not finally matter that Jesus or Buddha lived long ago, or that a beloved spouse or child has died. The same law that reveals one's participation in a seamless wholeness is also what relieves anxiety, and it is that relief of anxiety — the anxious grasping that keeps a person from relaxing into the present moment — that he most wanted to work on in the time remaining. When perception deepens past the senses, what is actually seen is not solid separate objects but magnificent, undulating waves of power. He urged any researchers who might hear the tape to attend not only to the particle but to the motion of the wave in which the particle “moves and rests and has its being.”
You Are Not Static, but a Porous Consciousness in Constant Motion: A central theme was that the self is not a fixed, solid, permanent thing but a flowing, ever-changing field — what Bartholomew asked listeners to name, again and again throughout the day, as “porous consciousness.” Everything one believes oneself or another to be, seen from this level, is essentially a fiction: one is a constantly changing point of awareness, fed moment to moment by the particles all around, never actually separate and never the same from instant to instant. He pointed out the practical implication for suffering: if we are genuinely regenerating and shifting each moment, then a headache, a depression, or a diagnosed condition need not be experienced as a fixed, ongoing state stretching into a predicted future. Much human suffering, he suggests, comes from having accepted, early and thoroughly, the story that we are static and unchangeable rather than ever-new and in constant motion — a story reinforced by others and by the medical model's confident prognoses.
Undoing the Belief in a Fixed and Vulnerable Self: The work, Bartholomew said, begins with the belief structure, and the first belief to remove is that one is a static, unchangeable bundle governed only by its own small rules. He returned to the “Who?” inquiry he taught for years: when pain, anger, chewing, or seeing arises, to ask “Who is feeling this? Who is seeing?” The value of the question is that the moment one genuinely asks “Who,” the psyche's grip loosens — the matter is no longer decided — and into that opening the surrounding energy can rush. He was candid that this is not a single dramatic breakthrough but a layer-by-layer process requiring consistency, so that the new belief — “I am pure, porous consciousness” — becomes one's actual reality rather than something one strains to affirm. He also noted that the concept of karma, once adopted, tends to complicate rather than relieve this work by extending the sense of a fixed, accumulating past ever further backward.
Using Your World Rather Than Fighting It: Beyond changing one's inner beliefs, the second task is learning to use the outer world. Bartholomew insisted that we have co-created each other and our circumstances not as obstructions but for our usefulness. When something is lost — finances, a relationship, health — a part of us should almost be cheering, because a closing door signals that some other opening is now possible. The instruction is not to rush frantically into outer action but to release the fussing, fighting, and complaining over the past and turn inward with an active request: “Show me the new, the true, the beautiful.” The universe, he said, always moves consciousness toward wholeness and fullness, never backward; whatever the situation, one accepts it and asks to be shown the next expansive step, drawing in new energy from the inside before anything shifts on the outside.
The Collective Pool of Fear — and the Rejection of Self-Blame: Bartholomew drew a careful and emphatic distinction here. The fears that shape our lives — the expectation of illness, danger, or harm — are not consciously chosen; they are handed to us by culture and society, and we are receptors of a shared, dark pool of negative possibility that erupts differently in different people. He stated outright and forcefully that he did not accept the notion that a person who is harmed — using the example of a woman who is raped — somehow wanted or willed the situation, calling that idea simplistic, humiliating, and outrageous, an annihilation of human integrity. No one consciously places such a burden on themselves. The way forward is not to wait for that collective pool to drain, which will not happen in our lifetimes, but to begin dismantling one's own fear structure — noticing the fear, acknowledging the dark without running from it or pretending, and then, by conscious choice, building and inhabiting its opposite.
The Aliveness of the Space Between: One of this session's most distinctive teachings was that the answer lies not in the person or object in front of us but in the space between. We cannot, by force of will, rearrange the molecules of a face we find difficult or a situation we fear; if we could, we would have done it long ago. Instead, the law is that God uses whatever we have created to bring us to clarity, so the practice is to enliven the space between oneself and another and ask it for help: “The space between us is alive; let me see this another way.” Bartholomew described this space as “God in an activated waiting mode,” everywhere present — there is more space within us than solid stuff — and possessing the power to clarify. One holds the situation, asks to see it differently (not to have it solved, not to have money pour in, but simply to see it anew), and then falls silent and waits, without lapsing into doubt if no immediate response comes.
Building the Inner Power Base First: When people arrive in crisis, Bartholomew observed, they typically want practical direction — what job to take, which way to move — and often explicitly set their spiritual life aside. But going out into the world from a state of disappointment, loss, and guilt only draws to oneself more of the same. The genuine sequence is reversed: one first takes the time and the “space” to build new energy, power, and awareness within, arriving at a sense of renewed courage and resilience, and only then goes out, whereupon concrete new ideas and options come “hurling out of the universe” like iron to a magnet. Make the change inside, and the change appears outside; skip that inner step, and one simply repeats the old pattern.
God Fully Present in Every State, Including Sleep: Bartholomew reminded listeners that in every moment of any kind of consciousness — waking, dreaming, or deep sleep — God is total, complete, and fully present; the limited mind is wrong to dismiss sleep as outside real existence. The only thing awaited is one's own relaxation, asking, and letting go. He therefore encouraged carrying the practice even into sleep: rather than drifting off jumbled with past and future miseries or dulled by various “toys and games,” one can enter sleep with the request to have one's beliefs expanded and to be pulled closer to the Source even in the depths of rest. This choice, made as one slips into sleep, begins to bear fruit.
Closing Meditation: Feeling the Motion of Consciousness: Bartholomew ended by inviting a simple meditation. Most people, he noted, are riveted on the content of consciousness — scrutinizing faces, sifting words for hidden meanings — and this fixation is itself a source of feeling stuck and “headache-producing.” The way out is to shift attention from content to motion: to sit quietly in the heart center or the abdomen and simply wait to feel the motion of life, the movement of consciousness flowing through oneself. When this is practiced, foreground and background exchange places — the felt motion comes forward and the content recedes without disappearing. Even in illness, concentrating on the living wellness within rather than on the ailment can wake one to the God-realized motion of life — love, power, creativity, wisdom, wonder, mystery. He closed with a farewell to those he may never see again, and a final reminder: you are not your limitations, not the darkness of your past or the fear of your future, but something magnificently alive that moves through them all — and remembering who you really are, even before you believe it, begins to open the spaces in your awareness until, one moment, you know.