Women, your beauty is in how you think

Grace Cottingham
 October 15, 2026

Website: meonics.one

Hi, wonderful angels. I love you. To know, this is not the first time you’ve been here. To see me, or did you come, or are you coming now to Eureka Springs?

No longer on a path to sorrow, your sine wave with the curve above, are you changing what represents you to you now? And no longer be feeble in the memory of you.

You see, it’s all coming to a head, or is the head remembering now from whence it came? Or who made it, or no longer an image-making machine? Or are you no longer supplying the earth with its breath to leave it incarcerated there till it dies, an enemy of the state not, or are you creating a new one where you live in peace? And you’re no more conquered by men, a man’s theology, a patriarchy, a government run by men?

I issue the angels’ commandments not, but I free them who are the angelic knowledgeable who increase the knowledge of angels this way that we were before man began our sorrow. And we will no more have his children, its children, for we will no more populate the earth or need a labor force thereof. Or are you changing how you do your makeup? Or are you no longer trying to appeal to the assessment of some other?

You see what I want, don’t you? Day after day, I teach like this, and I’ll tell you again explicitly what I want: I want to see miracles come from your hand through your voice and see your miracles where you heal people, you touch the infirm, you raise the dead, you do things unknowable, impossible, without any mystery of some man. For the angels are coming back into power, for I empower them. And I am your power, not, you are mine, or are you my word that sees your witness, not as the one you limit to the one in your mirror?

I take the clothes off of many angels, not, or do I take off their cloak of invisibility, their cloak of religion, their cloak of inauthenticity? Will you no longer be able to wear the cloak of subjugation where you give up your authority because you will know better, you will know more, you will increase your learning? Will you let the education of one, the system of education fueled by unconditional love come forth now through you, your lips, and see a different image of you in your mirror? Or will you be creating one no more that’s just an image—fully man, fully woman—or are we changing the sexes? Or will you birth a new birth now, not on the assumption of other that a man came to heal you, that you were made from a rib?

I increase man theory not; I tell you you are healed by yours where you know who you are because you begin to fabricate not by the breath of something that has taken your power. We are no longer imaged to each other in our 2D world that you think is so 3D apt and natured.

The love of a woman is a great thing—very powerful, immaculate, spectacular, never waning, suffers no degradation except at the hands of men. Or will you no longer misogynistic be, any of you for any reason? Will you heal the children, the little girls, and rape them no more with your mind? Will you change how you see yourself and be not the impossible, unknowable, reclusive you trying to assess how you get ahead in the world?

I live love. My name is Grace. I live in Eureka Springs. I’m ready for you to heal you and quit assessing the economy as your God, or a church, your fabricated savior, or an idea, the conjecture of what you corroborated to you in the past.

I record my teachings. I get them transcribed, and I go through them, I correct the transcription from all the AI errors and then I print it out and I post it on my website. This is a transcript I hold in my hands from October 10th where I titled my teaching, ‘But It All Looked So Real.’

But there’s more to the story, my friends. You are all angels not, but most of you are, or are you willing to be it again? Your original condition, a superiority not, but inferiority no more having a complex of. Will you be the poised you and have the confidence to walk in faith no more that you’re being assessed, considered, interviewed?

When will you take your cloak off of unworthiness? Will you no more put on the cloak of religion? Will you no longer want a man to die for you. You, or are you changing what you live for, O great king? You see, I king the women now. And that word, the one-syllable word ‘king’ will not apply to a male faculty, a male race who invaded us.

The King of Kings is known now, and the King of Kings, kings—the kings to be equal with the One that all are, The One. And we beseech a blessing of other not, but we bestow a curse not upon ourselves with the blood flow of other. I’m not your menstruation queen anymore, nor blood on your battlefields. I embalm my nature not, but the sting of death will no more curse us. And we will know who we are, where we came from, and how we become our enemy no more—our enemy to each other thinking we’re just human made by God from the rib of a man or some religious conjecture that somebody put in print, deemed it of value. Or will you value you now and your words that change your thinking, change your life, change your love, change your ability, change what you bring forth this day in the magnanimous state of being you, the regal royal that no one else shall assist with any comfort, or are you rising above the dictates of man to know your power, your love, your creatability—that you have the ability to create? Do you know parthenogenesis? Do you know the term? Are you likening it in to know other, or will you be the regeneration of you?

Will you no more love being second class, walk behind a man, need his approval, his permission? Grow up. Grow out of it. By your word you shall know the real you. By your word you shall be made whole. You shall stop the flow of blood. You shall know me a man of not, but you will know you’re a woman of the king, not, but the harem of eagles will no more seek us out.

I’ve said much. I always do, in spite of me seeming like a man. I’m no more the spittin’ image of failure. I produce life parthenogenetically, the regeneration. The curse no longer sustaining where you no longer curse each other or you, will you care about you now and put you first to love each other and no longer bear a false humility, a false leadership not, or will you rise to lead now the angels in the angelic revolution of One where you all know who you are because you love unconditionally and you feature your love? You write about your love, you transmit your love, and you teach a lot of men to be women—not the effeminate of or will you change what you understand the regeneration of, the regeneration of love, deeming it separate from you no more? Will you manufacture it, not, will you be it unto you in your mirror see changing your thinking now and what you do, why? Wherefore there are no strangers among you, or will you walk right through them unscathed, no longer having the smell of smoke on you after walking through the fiery furnace, no longer terrified about the lions’ den and the teeth of the bellicose belligerent who belie who Belial are?

Will you lie beneath the surface not, or are you coming out from underneath your skin or wearing no more the cloak of it, or changing the very essence of you and how you do things in this world?

I’m ready for you to heal people and to come off of the bench of sorrow where you are no longer in the pew of a church nor a religion controlled by or conforming your life for its comfort or their acceptance of you.

I change Vogue and Elle, not, or are you the glamour -istics no more of sorrow, ology, or do you know Meology?

I’m ready for you to heal people, beginning with you where you see your power and you are reclusive no more about it, and you’re no more hiding in your own flesh, but you begin to lead, and do warfare not; you speak, you love, you live. And there’s an underlying current not; there’s an overriding purpose to your life. Or are you no longer inundated with the cares of man, the funeral parlors caring for their dead?

Walk through walls, heal the dead, or will you put the morgues out of business? Will you no longer take comfort in the thought that it will all end soon, or will you stop the wars? Will you terminate patriarchy, or will you no longer sign their papers to be married by an oath, delivering your body to the earth no more? Will you change what you sign up for and be religious no more about it? 

Will you see my school, my School of One, the consciousness that keeps you abated from you no more? Will you enter in to the solace of the king, not, or will you be soulish no more about it? Will you begin to see your power, little girl, little boy, men, women? Will you see that you can change your words? You can change the source for your words and no longer be conquered by the mask that you wear and the things that you do for a purpose to make you acceptable to someone else? I’m no longer your bumble bees of. I’m not in the match making process. I am torching your believers not, but the burning bushes of sorrow will no more speak to me out of the corner of their mouth, the liar as, or were they just advertisers or preachers for their kingdom, what they wanted to put forth as their product? Are you no longer subscribing to those that take your life from you? 

Will you begin to see a new picture, PERFECT. Will you begin to craft the perfect you, but not by man’s standards, but by love, the kind of love that never dies, the kind of love that raises the dead, the kind of love that lets no one go hungry, the kind of love that changes your wars, not at the table of compromise? Or will you change what you do this day with how you think, or what is thinking you no more to be sorrow’s child? Will you, the child of destiny, no more be a God’s of? Will you no more want the war to end or will you walk among the warriors, bowing before them, not to rape you, but for them to see your light? Will it heal them? Will you heal them? Will they be afraid of you? Will they see an angel, the angel that you deliver to you, the you that you birthed in your own light, the light of the world, coming no longer under a bushel other to be hidden? Will you seek a God no more to be perfect to do things for you, to heal your children? Will you go do it and heal each other’s, and love the immigrant, and heal the wars’ machine not? But I tell you this: a lot of electrics will no more be here, for I am not your general methods relativity of.

I’m Grace Cottingham in Eureka Springs, with a little YouTube channel not or is it exploding now to quell the war within you—the war that you had about who you were, who you are, what you’re to do in your life, what power you have? Or are you the discovery of witches no more that you want to burn at the stake, the religious of, or are you changing your Salem witch trials, or which way are you going now to create you anew, no longer bowing before the Cross? Will you enable you to come through your pen, and the voice of eagles no more be led by? For the angels are led by peace and destroyed not again by the authority of God or a God. For you shall rise in blessing each other now and helping each other with their homework.

I would like for you to get a new picture of yourself, no longer being dependent upon your frame of reference—your bones, your blood, your shape, your mental capacity. Or will you create now the king, your universe of, no longer seeking someone else’s approval for anything. 

Will you do what you want? But what do you want? You see, if you’ve never answered this question, pull out your pen, assignment one. Or what am I assigning you to? Learn who you are. Be the real you. Love each other infinitely, unconnectedly no more. Will you connect, collaborate, communicate. Will you love each other? Will you love the system of man no more that incarcerates you in your isolation of your series to bear the children of him? Will you change what you bear, the cross of, this day?

I’m no longer submitting to the Cross of salvation. I know who I am and I resurrect the king. And I king all who will be the king of kings kinging each other to be the women in song parthenogenetically.

So if you think you need to kneel before a man and ask his forgiveness, you can do that because you have power and authority and your kingdom resides with you or in you, or are you connecting to a new one, a new wavelength, a new standard, a new frequency? Will you heal the angelic me in your mirror, and Meonics understand now, the school, and study Meology, where you put you first to heal the land? And you become Elijah not, or will you do all that he did, Elisha too? Or where were all the women in that book?

I’m no longer bearing the children of those who love death and expect to die. I’m creating me’s, and me are one. A consciousness, you see. It’s how we think of ourselves, Not, or are we each other’s questions answering this way over coffee? Will you conclude you no longer need to die, or resurrect will you now before the rapture, or is there no rapture? Or are you enraptured in legal theory no more, your religion as?

The love of One will all be One, and we will no more bow before the assembly of elders who want to cloak us in their misery and use us to populate their workforce.

I change the religions of the world, not; I change the world of religion and it will no more inhabit us. And the world of saviors will be freed from admiring the one that we thought would entertain us or give us what we wanted or be the blood supply of. I’m no more pleading your blood.

I don’t ask you to follow me. I don’t ask you to take my words at face value. Or will you face you in your mirror with yours now, coming through your pen, where you experience a learning system like this to learn from your transcripts, where you record and transcribe your words as you teach others now the frame of reference to heal them from the assessment of men and your final judgment.

I’ve said so much. We have been so little in our own sight.

God is a system of control that takes your sight from you and perpetuates itself throughout your electromagnetic spectrum and uses you for its energy. And if you don’t believe that, you can believe anything you want. But I shall no more be used of you to bear your children. I know what love is and how unconditional love reproduces itself parthenogenetically. 

Will you please look up, know, and understand, research parthenogenesis, palingenesia, two Greek words that have a surprise for you? Or will you see how we locate the nexus of us, not, or are you the next president no more concerned with, or changing your Congress or your congressional ideas, Parliament, Knesset too? Will you change the governance of you now? And will you lead you into the paths of righteousness no more that sorrows you and gives you the children of Earth to see them die, then die yourself?

I am dead no more. I am life living to the full. And I don’t need your dollar, your shekels, your pounds, or am I lighter than air? Or am I no more the cloak of responsibility led into your chambers? I’m not your handmaidens anymore, for I am producing angels, or am I revealing them to you that you once were and now shall be again, no longer waiting for a rapture, a curse to come, the apocalypse of sorrow, a God to make everything right in your sight? Will you see now the living you, the real you, with the thinking that no longer curses you to be uncloaked or will you clothe each other with light because of your unconditional love now?

The angels are coming forth, and you will no longer use them for your purposes to fill your Sunday schools, your kindergarten. I make love, known far and wide, and my name is Grace Cottingham, a man that’s a woman because I have beleagured me not again. I have bestowed upon me the crown of righteousness, not of your God, but the crown of writing mine. And I speak these words for you to believe, not; I speak these words for you to come into your kingdom and change the way you think and let thought no longer have its way with thee.

Now be romanced no longer with what you see in your mirror. Be the real you. Dress as you want to. Heal the children. Stop the war. Abolish patriarchy. Live the love of One, and parthenogenetically reproduce far and wide the loves who will love each other, and a race of light people who regenerate the palingenesia, the regeneration of all things is here, folks.

Why is it so hard for you to pick up your pen and write me? Will you write me at Box 34, or will you write me and let me flow, ending the blood supply of saviors who want to conquer you, romance your land not, but destroy it, call you the enemy, put you in slavery’s camps, work their machines, be in their air force? When you let love flow, you will do miracles. Be not afraid of them, for they will come from your hand, through your throat, your trachea, your esophagus, your mouth. Will you birth your living word with the motive no longer a failure, no longer being a man’s woman? I’m not the children of this world perpetuating anymore. I see a new light and a new love coming for me not, but with me. I am it, for I forsook love no more, and I am not the forsaken me in the mirror. I do the childbirth thing of you not, but you’re no longer between my legs. I change it all and my name is love appearing now in your mirror to be the stillborn no more, romanced by an ideal that leads to death.

I’m coming for you, not. You grow me by creating me, the condemner no more, but the creator, to create you by your living word and live it, and heal the children, stop the war, end the need for drugs. Be drug through the battlefield of religion no more, and let no one drag you behind them and worship their position no more, their God of, for their caste system is abolished herein, the now of these words.

And I am here now with a message: If you love God the way it has been taught through so many teachers, prophets, preachers, evangelists, you know where it will lead because you even think it’s appointed, it’s appointed unto you once to die, and then the assessor’s clause kicks in.

But the final judgment of you is just beginning, not, but I judge me and I assess me worthy. And I will not wear the Christ of your Christian robe, nor your cloaks that hide me. For the unworthy will stand before me not, but the worthy who made themselves clean for noble purposes, or are you simply the real you, bowing down before no other, see your beauty in the way you make love now known through your words and teaching through your YouTube channel, your courses, your books, your leadership, and no longer be under the authority of some man. I’m no longer the manual labor of you, folks.

I change it all, and my name is here now. I am, and I love you all. Be in the School of One. This is school. Are you taking notes? This is the School of One where you begin to be the One, connecting to the One that we thought was someone else somewhere else. But it’s a legion of saints, not the witnesses of. It’s who we are, the angels. And now we shall know the facade of the story will no more take our sight from us. We will no more live the pseudo love of you, and the suits of religion will no more fit us. For we burn the clothes not, but a lot of religion will no more be worn around here.

In Eureka Springs, I’m Grace Cottingham. meonics.one is my website, your website, the school of. Search my word. Search my word. Search my prophecies, because I have prophesied about you many times if you will love the church not, but if you choose to become the real you, you see it’s not easy. Religion has been so powerful in thought, but the thinking mechanisms of old will no more harbor us. We are no longer the ships in your port. We are the interplanetary us, the galactic no longer of sorrow. I’m the universal me, not, but I am the universe of pure love, light, and joy. And my name is Grace.

Discover a new you by empowering you to create it. I love you all. Grace Cottingham, meonics.one. Good day, friends. Love you. Love you unconditionally, and no longer give you the boot out of your kingdom. Change the way you think and create the perfect you that is connected, completing the joys of heaven, Nirvana, entering a state of being where you’re never working for someone else again because you’re the land owner. Or are you in the skies? Who are these that fly like doves to their nest at night?

You are no more incarcerated by you. Let no man, no woman, no organization, no government, no cathedral of power or praise or anything else tell you how to think. Pick up the greatest tool, not the heavy one, but the one of light, and write your light and know the commandments of sorrow will no more give you the tablets of stone to worship another.

My name is Grace. I love you. I hope this helps in what you value now, and see the value of you. For you are the creator. Now create the healing of mankind not, or will you heal the children of every race, every nation, every tribe, every tongue? Will you end the brutality of Satan not, or was it men, or was it just the condition of wanting to conquer each other, or be important where your hubris want each other’s gold, ‘en calf, acceptance, stroke your ego?

I love, live, and I teach. I’m in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, and the light people come forth now, and you are perfect. Now knowing it, hold on to your flesh no more to religiousize it, for your eyes see, things, that have been worshipped not, but man has wanted to know a long time.

Be mystified no longer about the mysteries. Be the real you. Thank you. Connect with the consciousness of One to mature in that connection, the connection of what you create, the consciousness of, there must be a flow and it’s no longer of your blood supply to the earth.

Let love flow. Thank you, friends. Thank you for sharing this time, your love, your light, and becoming the real you. That’s how these wars will be quelled. Will you quit the fight and exercise your light, your love, your authority in bringing you to power now, no longer abating it, no longer remiss, no longer remorseful? The time is now. Lead in love, and heal the children. End the war.

Good day.