The Great Split: Why Everything Feels Like It's Speeding Up

Geoffrey Hoppe, founder of the Crimson Circle, is at his home base in Kona, Hawaii, and by his own account the morning hasn't quite arrived yet. He is sitting down with host Michael Sandler on Inspire Nation to do what he has done every month for 27 years: channel a message without missing one. First it came through Tobias. Since 2009 it has come through the Ascended Master Adamus Saint Germain. On this episode the questions are the ones many people are asking quietly at odd hours: why everything feels like it is speeding up, why the body is so tired, and where all of this is actually going. Adamus's answer, as Hoppe relays it, is less a warning than a map. A new reality already exists, the transmission says. It is simply not yet occupied. The exhaustion people feel is the sensation of old identities being released to make room for who they are becoming, and nobody, in this telling, is annihilated or left behind. There are simply different doorways.

Why does everything feel like it's speeding up?

Sandler opens the way a good host opens a hard set, with the feeling before the argument. "If you've been feeling like everything is speeding up, hello," he says. "Like your nervous system can't keep up, like the old anchors aren't holding anymore, there's a reason, and it's not what you think." Then he reads the claim the entire episode rests on:

"We're in the greatest change this planet has ever gone through. Not by a little, but in my words, by a lot. That within about 10 years, there's a transformation that happens almost overnight where some go forward into a whole new world, and others don't even notice they've gone."

— Adamus Saint Germain, as channeled by Geoffrey Hoppe and read aloud by Michael Sandler, Inspire Nation (opening segment)

The word that matters in that passage is tempo. Hoppe's argument is about how fast the planet is moving, not only where it is going. He points to the big turning points of recent history, the industrial age, the telephone and telegraph, even early computers, and notes that they unfolded across decades, sometimes 50 or 100 years. What is happening now, he says, is compressing into "about 10 years or less." He describes the mechanism as a sudden swerve: a world that has been traveling in one direction abruptly turns onto another, and that turn, in his framing, is a good one. Adamus, he says, talks about it at length, and Hoppe's own paraphrase is poetic. What people have dreamed of and hoped could be true for the planet is suddenly there. It sounds like a pipe dream, he admits, "but Adamus says, 'No, it's really not.' There's enough consciousness, enough energy that it actually can happen."

Is this bigger than Lemuria and Atlantis?

Sandler pushes on scale. Hawaii, the two of them agree, sits in a belief system as the summit of the ancient continent of Lemuria, and the older stories of Lemuria and Atlantis describe civilizations that rose and fell. Is this, he asks, bigger than any of those reboots? Hoppe's answer turns on the word "over." Earlier transitions unfolded across very long spans. He describes an overlap between Lemuria and Atlantis and a decline of Atlantis that stretched, by his recollection of Adamus's figure, across something like 5,000 years. What is different now is that "everything on this planet is boosted, supercharged."

The lineage he traces is specific, and it is the most interesting thing in the conversation. He argues that an infusion of light arrived on the planet around the First and Second World Wars and just after, and that this helped set up the social upheaval of the 1960s. That consciousness, he says, opened the doorway for computers and then personal computers, and those opened the doorway for AI. Each step accelerated the one before. The conclusion he draws is careful: AI is not the cause. "It's not that AI is causing it to happen but it's an acceleration tool that we're using for it to happen."

Why can't the mind keep up with the change?

Here the talk turns from cosmic history to the body and the nervous system, and Hoppe's most useful observation is about the mind itself. The mind, he explains, has been trained to a particular pattern, rhythm, and pace. Right now that pattern is being challenged. The good news he offers is that the mind eventually concedes: "I got to let go. I got to stop trying to control everything." At that point awareness moves to something beyond the thinking mind, which he calls intuition, and which some teachers name differently.

Before that surrender, he describes two failure modes that will be familiar to anyone who has tried to think their way through a bad week. In one, the mind gives up on understanding altogether, and we feel drifty and fuzzy and unable to apply ordinary daily logic. In the other, the mind leaps in to manage and control the change, which doesn't work, and the cost lands in the body. Both, he says, are part of the passage.

Hoppe offers his own case. Last year, while recovering from a concussion and working on three books at once, he used AI to edit and organize material (he is explicit that it was not used to write the books). He took in a large volume of information very quickly and, without knowing how to integrate it, was hit with a severe migraine in which he saw crystals and triangles and patterns that felt like a journey through a sequence of symbols. His reading of the episode was that the rapid intake had outpaced his capacity to digest it. It is a small, vivid illustration of the larger claim: the speed is real, and the body registers it before the mind can name it.

Is history really changing, and what does that do to the past?

One of the most provocative threads in the conversation is Hoppe's claim that the past is not fixed. "We like to think that the past is the past. It is what it is. It's not. It's changing right in front of our eyes." He describes past lives and the planet's history as "getting shaken up and rewritten," and he says plainly that history is "malleable" and "changeable." Whether one takes that as literal or symbolic, it reframes the reader's own sense of personal history. The stories we tell about who we were may be among the things that are being released.

Hoppe is also candid about his unease with the material. He recalls telling Adamus that the timeline sounded like science fiction. "I really don't want this stuff coming out of my mouth because you're talking about a few short years away, and you know, I don't want to be held accountable for it." The response he reports is that it is going to happen, and the question becomes what can be done with that knowledge. For a reader, the honesty is useful: the channel is not presented as a set of guarantees about dates, but as a framework for how to live through a fast-moving transition.

What happened in March 2023?

The episode's chapter list gives this its own heading, "Heaven's Cross & ChatGPT," and the description ties the two together: Heaven's Cross arrived in March 2023, the same month ChatGPT-4 was released. Sandler's own shorthand in the conversation makes the same connection. The chapter pairing is the episode's framing, and it is one of the places where the reader is invited to hold the spiritual and technological narratives side by side rather than choose between them. The fuller explanation of the Heaven's Cross event sits in the video itself, and it is worth hearing in full rather than inferred from a headline.

Who goes through the split, and who stays?

The central promise of the episode is in its title and description: nobody gets left behind. The description puts it directly: "Nobody gets annihilated. Nobody gets left behind. There are simply different doorways… and a whole new reality on the other side." What the split means, then, is not a judgment that sorts the worthy from the unworthy. It is a branching. Some people step forward into a whole new world, and others simply do not notice that the branch has taken place, as Adamus put it in the opening passage. The idea that a new reality "exists right now" but is "not occupied yet" is the hinge of the talk. Occupation is a matter of attention and identity, not of waiting for a date on the calendar.

Why am I so exhausted, and is that a good sign?

The description answers the most common question directly: "You're not doing anything wrong. The exhaustion is you releasing old identities to make room for who you're becoming." Hoppe frames the physical symptoms the same way. He has noticed them particularly in people releasing old patterns and coming into what he calls a whole new energy. What feels like depletion is, in this reading, the cost of letting go of structures that no longer fit. His core message to anyone who feels this way is blunt: "It's not really about you. You're not messed up. You're not screwed up. We're just going through the most intense… kind of a portal right now, with more light, more consciousness coming into the planet. Everything getting shaken up."

— Geoffrey Hoppe, Inspire Nation (early in the conversation, approximately the first ten minutes)

The chapters that follow move the conversation from diagnosis into practice. The episode's chapter list places a section titled "Stop Affirmations — Allow & Play" and another on "What To STOP Doing Tonight," which it describes as "the one thing to do instead." The material available for this article does not carry those sections in full, so rather than paraphrase them from a title, the honest move is to point readers to them directly. What the framing makes clear is that the episode's prescription is not more effort. It is less control.

Is AI something to fear, and what about the singularity?

The episode devotes a chapter to "The Singularity Is Here," and the description says Adamus argues that AI, the singularity, and what he calls the "field" are "nothing to fear." Hoppe's own reasoning, drawn from the conversation, is that AI is a tool of acceleration rather than the origin of the change. The fear, in his telling, is often a product of the speed itself. People who cannot keep up feel out of sorts, and many start to feel unbalanced. He notes that this is true not just for people in spirituality or metaphysics but for everyday people who cannot explain why they feel the way they do.

What happens to the people we love?

The episode addresses one of the most painful versions of the question: the people we love who are losing themselves to illness. A chapter titled "Alzheimer's & Our Parents" sits about three-quarters of the way through, and the conversation touches on the reality of parents living with Alzheimer's and Parkinson's. The core promise of the episode extends to them: nobody gets left behind. The talk does not settle the question with a neat answer, and it would be a disservice to pretend otherwise. What it offers is a frame in which the split is about different doorways rather than a verdict on whom we love.

Where to go from here

The conversation covers more ground than any summary can hold, including the light body and what it means for pain, aging, and disease, the mystery schools and whether this is the lifetime Adamus prepared people for, and a closing transmission for everyone who is tired and wondering whether they will make it. If you are reading this because you feel the speed, a few practical starting points come straight from the talk:

• Watch the full episode on Michael Sandler's Inspire Nation channel, where the chapter list will let you go directly to the sections on the split, exhaustion, and the light body.
• Notice the two patterns Hoppe describes, drifting into fog or clamping down to control, without judging yourself for either.
• Hold the idea that you are not doing anything wrong, and that the tiredness may be the sensation of releasing an old identity.
• Be wary of taking in more information than you can integrate. Hoppe's migraine was his cautionary tale.
• Explore Geoffrey Hoppe's work through the Crimson Circle, the monthly channeling he has maintained for 27 years.

The most striking thing about this episode is not the timeline, which Hoppe himself is uneasy about. It is the insistence that the change, however fast, is not a race with winners and losers. Whatever the reader makes of the cosmology, that is a message worth taking seriously.