I Remember Atlantis: And So Do You

A sacred remembering of what once was, and what can be again. This isn’t a myth. It’s a memory. Not a legend, but a frequency calling us home.

This is the beginning of a series called Atlantis Rising - a sacred remembering of an ancient way of life. I don’t claim to be an expert or historian. I’m simply sharing what I remember. These memories didn’t come from books. They came from within.
If they awaken something in you, trust that. That’s the point.

We are not here to argue Atlantis. We are here to remember it.

I remember a city shaped like a song, floating in still waters, wrapped in peace.

There were no bridges to this place. You couldn’t walk there. You had to sail. Quiet boats with curved white sails drifted toward it like prayers across the water. It was an island - vast, the size of a small country.

Water surrounded it, and water ran through it. The land formed seven concentric circles, each ring cradled by a moat, each connected to the next by bridges - threads in a great mandala. Every circle had its own homes, its own trees, its own quiet rhythm. The dwellings were soft-edged and rectangular, almost like townhouses, nestled among greenery and flowing streams. The whole layout felt alive. Harmonious. Like Venice, if Venice had been made of light.

At the heart of it all, in the center of the seventh circle, stood a citadel carved from luminous white crystal, flecked with pink, purple, and blue. It wasn’t a building in any ordinary sense - it was a presence. A resonance. A sanctuary of frequency. Tower is too narrow a word. It was vast. Sacred. Alive. And it stood alone on its own island, encircled by still water that mirrored the sky.

This city at the center was holy.
It was an island, unreachable by foot - surrounded by water, and untouched by bridges. Not closed off, but sacredly protected.

You could only enter if your frequency matched its peace.
Not through effort, but through resonance.
Not through force, but through the heart.

This wasn’t a place you could simply go.
It was a place you had to become.

There was no crime here. No punishment. No government ruling from above. People simply worked together. They shared. They contributed. They existed in alignment. There was no need to control, because no one had forgotten their connection to the whole.

It was peaceful, yes, but not silent. The entire city vibrated. It thrummed with energy. Not noise, but a kind of humming - a frequency of love, of unity, of truth. A human song. A soul sound.

And in my bones, I remember it.

There’s something in me that knows its layout. Something that recognizes the light in its walls - like I helped shape it. Like, in another life, I was one of the builders. I was part of its design. I belonged to the central city; the crystal sanctuary.

I’ve known for some time now: my purpose in this life is to help Atlantis rise.
Not the land. Not the structures.
But the energy.

Because Atlantis wasn’t just a place. It was a way of being.
And now, at this turning point in our evolution, it’s calling us all back.

At last, Atlantis is ready to rise.

This is the first of my recollections of Atlantis that I will share, but there are many more to come. In this life, I have been called to help the world remember.

Atlantis is rising - not from the ocean floor, but from the collective heart of humanity. It begins with memory. With story. With resonance.

What I share here will be the pieces I remember, and I share them now not to convince, but to activate, because your memory lives inside you too. And when one of us remembers, it helps all of us remember.

Together, we will awaken the codes.

Together, we will feel the frequency of Atlantis rise again, not as a physical structure (though its remnants will soon be found), but as an ancient way of being. A return to coherence. To heart-based living. To the love-soaked, light-woven life we once knew.

This post is just the beginning. I have more memories to share - layered, vivid, sacred.

And if you do too, I invite you to write in the comments.

Those of us who were there,
this is our time to speak.
To connect.
To remember.
To rise.

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Thank you for reading this first memory in the Atlantis Rising series. There is more to come. If this stirred something inside you - if something in your bones whispered “yes” - I’d love to hear from you in the comments below. This journey is not mine alone. It belongs to all of us.