it is i

Grace Cottingham
 October 12, 2026

Website: meonics.one

My dear ones, I love you.

And this is me, Grace Cottingham, a fool no more for the things of this earth. Or am I preparing to not again to live here? Or will you change what you took an oath to be, so ignorant of your blessing, or will you be one now to the whole earth at one time, in many minds, one mind, becoming one. No longer the serpentine to you of it.

I am one, surreptitious, not again, the serpentine of, or are you no longer the wiggle worms of you in a brain called truth? Or factuating no other?

Will you no longer infatuation be with your mirror, your mind, your reflection, your contemplation, your God, your devil, your demons, your angels, your nomenclature, your syllables?

Your mind will no more conquer you because you see with syllables not again that rob your life from you and give you sight to only the visceral, visible experience of your cognition, your concretization of this thing you call Earth?

You see it, see it’s all a lie, not, or will you but see, it is i who framed the earth you live in, not, or are you but I am one again, knowing it.

Will you be no more the solidifier of truth in you to solidify you, to be the fallow ground in, wet moist of your brain, not again, the gray matter of, or are you changing all that matters upon the earth and farther?

It is i who is one, and I claim it not. But I dispossess all of your theories that took my throne from me. And I am one, the prophecies of one, the mighty many come forth. It is i who is saved, not again by you, a pope with, or was I ever? Or was he, not again, the popemobile in, or are you changing your transportation issues now?

No longer the transformation of me misunderstood. I am the gentleman, not. I am the feminine divine raising up in the leadership of it is i who lead this nation.

It is i, you see, who are one. It is i in your mirror. It is i who no longer point the finger and blame someone else, blame Eve, blame Adam, blame the government, blame your ignorance, blame your solidification of you and your own self-aggrandizement of your own hubris making monuments to you, your gold, palaces of light that you turned into squalor to worship your word, your segmentation, your spiritualization, your demonization, your categorization, and your power to be you in the separation of you against you and your fellow man, men and women of the earth. Why are you so cruel to each other?

My name is i, i am.

So this morning, as is my normal custom; rose, walked downstairs, punched the button to start the coffee, came back up, washed my face, went down and filled my cup with fresh coffee, came upstairs and sat down in my big white chair. And then realized, wow, it’s so nice outside! So I took my coffee and went out on the deck. I’m actually facing west now. My deck is right outside the door here, in front of me to my left. And I have a wonderful beach chair, a really pretty one, a multicolored, really multicolored, made by Rio I think. It’s great. Sitting out there drinking my coffee as I’ve done so many hundreds of times, watching the squirrels play.

It is i. It is i.

So I set my coffee cup down, came in, got my little Pixel 9 Pro phone, walked outside, tapped the little Notes app and began gliding my little fingertip over the glide board, the Gboard.

“The School of One is my name now that I am the consciousness of many creators coming here now does my consciousness create in a witness of me that is no longer separate than all of my beliefs that I separated, segmented, organized, and fed a bunch of bull. The regimes of Satan are just that, not; but simply me being ignorant of who I am is for I was the devil but I am God. I was Christ but I am Antichrist. I am good, but for the bad. I am separate and equal not again not again for the equality of it, it is I, now is made known and we are no longer fighting ourselves in the conflict of Eden, thinking it Earth. My name is love. Grace Cottingham in Eureka Springs for now, no longer limited to it.

Understanding all things we shall now and put to rest that which has been in conflict since time began and you shall no more not realize who I am, that we are,
 it is i in your mirror,
 beholding the one,
 no longer segmented into sexes,
 no longer creating the veil.
 Lifting love high and mighty she’ll be now, and no one shall govern me to bestow all my limitations that I imposed upon myself in the past.
 Love is free now.
 I am one.
 It is i.”

And, and this is how I I am revealed to I am. I let I am speak. It is i who is me that lets the energy be not afraid of me. I am one. I am the devil. I am your God, not. But I am God. I am one. You are, too.

What are you defeating? Your ignorance about this, or have you just embraced your ignorance to remain calm and collected, peaceful, intuition with, the intuitive of you? Or are you no more inclined to be the graceful favor that keeps you dumbed down as a man, as a woman, in the clasp of reality that isn’t what it seems?

Will you no more sing the songs of Jerusalem on your head, or changing your chakra system, or all that you embellish? The rhetoric of other will no more categorize me into what keeps me dumb, founded here. I am not man of your mannequins nor the egress of your doctrine seeking an escape route. I am me in love; with my two feet! White shoes on now, New Balance. That’s what I’ve really worn most, most of the last decade, or decreasing are you your separation from me or will you know an energy that no longer beholds you as separate? Are you I in your mirror I am with two eyes or no longer one brain segmented in the two sexes or are you changing the sex of the universe or all that you conglomeratize in your glamour magazines?

I gazelle your feet, not. But I no longer run away from a theory, or are you changing how you process you and how your processor works, how your processor condemns you to categorize you the accuser of the brethren, the devil, trying to serve a God when you are all of it, all there is?

It is i who condemn you no more, nor do I condemn the one in my mirror nor segment you from me. You see, we are one that an intelligent consciousness now no more Congress is, with, or am I changing it all, no more condemning you? I point the finger at you, not. I know who I am is and am is no more separate from I, or are you no longer studded in your appeal to other to just reproduce your seed of suffering? Will you no longer let the mind mount you and ride you to death in the apocalyptic horses of you, shedding death, or will you spread it no longer among the believers and appoint them to die?

Day after day I exhibit, I portray, exemplify, or do I experiment with me, my love, my creator, my creation of me? I am creating as you hear these words for I am being me creating me to be no longer subject to you and whatever you think of you and how you have categorized you and each other, condemned you, considered you, caught in adultery, or are you drawing a line in the sand? The thin red one, no more of your war, or are you changing your colors, or all that you feebly describe to you of this world? Will you create a new one.

So I get my coffee each day and I walk out on the deck when the weather’s nice, enjoy the wind, the breeze, if there is one, the birds; lots of hummingbirds, red birds, cardinals. Northwest Arkansas is pretty nice. But don’t come here unless you want to walk on water! We have two great lakes just within minutes of Eureka Springs: Beaver Lake and Table Rock Lake. Big lakes, deep water, great to ski on. I still have my slalom ski I bought years ago. Still suits me well.

You see, I am not a God that I don’t serve man, or am I a man no longer serving women, or am I unveiling a new creation, you, that makes up stories about this our creation no more that keeps us separate from the cosmos? And creation is creating again with the unfolding in the love of one.

Will you no longer consider it shameful to be a man, in a woman’s dress, or a woman a man, or were you before time began no longer cut into sexes your brain in half or changing all the tendencies you try to refute or not? Hide from your flesh, will you no more be the light of, or will you?

It is i who is one, and I decrease your ceremony, not. But many shall have one in the skies of me who no more protected from your blessing or was it your curse, or were you Jekyll and Hyde, both of you trying to protect your belief system?

Don’t don’t rush the permanence of me being terminated in you, for I am not the permanent as you think of it, or am I but I am, no longer installing the blame theory, the program of religion, or am I cutting into pieces, many thoughts that have wound you up, it’s not easy to cut a thought in half, or will you no longer be incarcerated in the Jekyll/Hyde uniform of flesh trying to conform to it to increase your suffering and get everyone else’s marbles?

Why do you bomb each other? Why do you why do you take such joy in the destruction of others? Why are you so illicit, amoral, immoral? Or is morality not a part of your purpose or will you no more bed with dogs lie, the liars of hell, or are you refuting your religion because you’re becoming something new and faithful not to another?

Are you learning a lot of things that you unlearn now because you’re feeble no more in the ineptness of your decrepit nature? Will you open your eyes or have you never used them? Or are you only limited to what you see?

I received a letter at my PO Box! Yay! Took a little walkabout yesterday afternoon, got by the post office, sure enough, here’s a letter addressed to me:

“Dear Mr. Theodore, I love your teachings and I definitely relate. Some over my head, however the love resonates with me and I am very interested in your teaching. I know you said you’ve been doing this 20 years and I am wishing I had heard this 20 years ago. After the first day I heard you speak, I’ve been thinking of relocating to Eureka Springs.”

I’m skipping forward.

“I am so tickled to have found your channel.”

I am not limited to flesh, but you are not either. You’re not limited to your flesh. You’re not limited to the visible, empirical realm that we thought was so high and mighty, we simply thought was real. We were told it was real. Looks real, feels real, stinks sometime, smells good sometime, happy, fun, contentment, angst, anger, sorrow, all the emotions of the world, just life. Or are we creators?

Did you read The Thirteenth Floor? Did you see the movie, the book, The Truman Show? Are you willing to learn from a sci-fi movie, about a cyber attack, not, or will you no longer attack the angels? Will you be who you really are, the angelic you, coming to an understanding of reconciliation, not atonement of your cross and the members thereof? For I crucify you not, but I tell you, you are no longer under the subject of man, the subjectivity, the objectivity. Or are you just objectifying your justification no longer the grace of, or will you see it’s the most costly of all when you begin to know who you are and change your ways and what you create with you to be you?

Friends, don’t come to Eureka Springs thinking I can help you. Don’t come thinking I have a job, that I have deep pockets, that I have some great ministry or school, or wisdom beyond the ages. I’m simply me, an old man, 75. I drink coffee and take walks, and I love life, and I speak it. It is i.

And if you want these values, you can have them. You can write me, but what does that mean? You can write me with a pen, you can write me on a tablet, paper, write me a letter, write me a card. But are you originating something in your heart, not, but your spirit, or are you the wind no longer neglecting through your nasal passages, your trachea, or will you change what you understand the word of and be no more limited to syllables?

For you see, I am one, one, meonics of, where you study Meology, this is, where you entertain angels unaware, not again. For the angelic realm is exposed to consciousness now that doesn’t put them to sleep.

I arise, the resurrection of me, and I am many. And many will be me, many will be many, the mighty many, who take these values and run with them to run away, not, but who begin to see it is i. Be not afraid to do new things with new people, and promise no promises not, or will you be the promise of you, the promised one?

Well, I tell you, I promise you, it will not be easy if you come here. It will be work. Or are we no longer the judgment of using a criteria of flesh to judge all things equal with the manner of men; not, or are you rising above the laws of the flesh? Will you do the works, the mighty miracles? Will you sever a lot of connections to be the real you?

I don’t have deep pockets. I don’t have any revenue stream at all from what I do. But I am not limited to what you see, for I am faithful, not, I am religious no more. For I take the baggage of religion down the hall, not, but I tell you this: a lot of halls of justice are cleaned out now, and the supremes won’t be anywhere around with supremacy over me. It is i, and I create me.

Meonics is a flow. Be impatient with it, not again, nor you, to facilitate you, the coming word, the word resurrected, the power of the one. Ah! You’re The One. And when you no more look to me for your garnerment, your chains, or your freedom, or your transmutation, transformation, resurrection, will you no longer look to me or a God, a person, an idea, a subject? Will you create the real you and begin to see it is i in your mirror to do all the works I did, or will you be the new you, the new Jerusalem, a new head, a new world, a new Eve no longer with Adam or changing your Adamic race, your atomicry?

Will you no more cry out to the Gods to serve you, heal you, bless you, help you have a good job, a better life, more contentment, less pain? Or will you change it all and see that you are responsible to you for you to raise you from the dead, or will you just no more have your eyes covered looking through a glass darkly, a 3D world perceived by your 2D glasses?

You see, if you come here, I don’t have all of the answers. I will not have all of your answers, and I will disappoint you, probably. You think I know more than you? Or will you connect to the same source, the same privilege, being the equal me all of the angels are, no longer connected to what we are limiting ourselves of?

There is a community of believers, not, but becomers, common people, craftsmen, artisans, musicians of every nature, every nation, tribe, and tongue, no longer limited to the Babelese of you, what you learned to speak at the Tower of Babel, supposedly. Or will you change your communication system and see how it is i who comes forth when you don’t segment me from you? I am the energy of one, not proposing sorrow.

But I want you to be prepared, for a new enemy, not, but to see it is i, and I behold all things new. And I make no marriage to faith or failure. It is i responsible for me, and I teach me this way. That’s why I record. Or do I raise a nation, or do I lead you out? Or are you Moses, Deborah, Abraham, Sarah, Jerusalem on your head no more? I emit me, rays of me come forth and raise me from my dead of you, and the resurrection shall be now, who no longer worship a Savior in religious terms, but become it is i in your mirror to heal each other and set the word free to no longer incarcerate us in the syllables of sorrow.

My name is Love, Grace Cottingham. Thank you for sharing this time to see the syllables contain you no longer that you give your life to think that you heard to separate and segment you from each other. I am one.

And I teach like this upon the hillside, not with the classes of sorrow nor appointments of. I’m just here as I am. Maybe I’ll be here if you come, maybe not. But don’t depend on me for a job, for work, housing.

I’m a reporter, not, or am I a prophesier? Or have you read my prophecies? Are you looking through yours now? Are you writing them with the first person, me-words, words of me, Meonics, the breath of God, no longer the devil, studying the separation are you no more, or will you bequeath you no more to sorrow, seeking the legacy of?

I’m no more your stamps, but I know Bob, and “God and man at table are sat down”, not, but the women are who will have a womb, sexless angels, dimensionless, angelic ease seeking not, but speaking the words of I am one, it is i, knowing the consciousness of creation now creates it again, no longer fabricating your earth as you know it. I am the angels on one, not; I am in all in all.

Is my name you, yours? Let us write together, and seesaw no others’ better half. I change it all, and you can study my word, the elliptical solve, not, but I’m no longer the ellipsis of you hallucinating for sorrow.

I know it is i, and I change all things. I love you, giving you me. I have, over and over, every day, and withheld nothing from you. Be my energy. Heal the girls, heal the children, lead the boys to no more embrace sorrow. Lead us all out. Heal your church, not, never needed again. Be the learning system of one. Heal your mind, not your soul. Heal your love, and love love, live love, love live, and ski with me!

A boat I do not have, but maybe I won’t need one. The lakes are great. Eureka is a fine place, a little town, tourist town. Not many jobs here, or will you create one, or will you—what’s that you say? Speak up!

Write me and see your energy flow the ink on the page, and do what is righteous to you in the love of one where you’re no longer looking to a God, a man, a job. Be the real you, and let your energy direct you, not, but your love, and the infamy of you shall go far and wide to be the resurrection I am. All, it is i. I am one.

See you later, friends. I bow before you this day and I’m no longer the appointee of your sorrow. I’m not the elector of your dreams, nor the elixir of your breath. I’m the most excellent me, not. I am a common man, a teacher. So don’t come to be me, but if you come, come to be the real you. Love you, honor you, feel your power, and let it come through your pen to share your love without the immaculate deception deceiving you anymore that there is a God of other, superior of. Be the equal me with you, and let us no longer segment our sorrow, nor classify our dreams into the future. Be the me today, the real me. Love you, honor you. It is i who is one.

Grace Cottingham, The School of One. Share these words, this YouTube channel, and begin yours. Oh, is that what you do the first day in this school, your first day in school? You set up your YouTube channel? Oh, so you’re broadcasting the elimination of sorrow, too? Will you heal all the widows and the mite?

My word will go and do the things that it supposes, not, but love will be real, realized, and resurrected now. And the response will be one, and we will all heal each other, the I that I am was all the time. See me, feel me, become me, live the real you without purpose, not again. I’m here for now.

I love you all. Thank you for allowing me to share these words, this energy, and appeal to your sorrow, not, but your creativity to create you again without religion encrusting you in the form of man again.

The School of One arises. Be here if you must. I never said it would be easy, but I said you will find me inside of you when you let me speak and teach I am to be. It is i, again, the One.

Good day. See ya, friends. You decide. 

I love you all. Be the real you.