A Side Less Seen

Typically I only show or share my more upbeat and optimistic self, or sometimes my angry I’m not going to take anymore garbage self.  It’s for good reason that I don’t typically share the side of me that I do in this video, but I don’t want to hide her anymore because she’s a gigantic part of me.  I usually disappear from public view when this part of me is on the surface, but that makes me feel alone, so I’m going to try a different way.  I’m going to share her with you too.

I have always felt this deep hurt and sorrow in me, and it gets worse as the conditions on Earth get worse.  It’s always been present in me.  It’s not depression, I’ve had that . . . that is another animal completely.  I have found that I go into depression when I don’t acknowledge this other deeper part of me.  I also feel that it is an appropriate feeling and response to what is going on everywhere.  Sure, I could numb or block it all out, but that would numb and block out my joy as well.

Also, while I’m always feeling it in me, it isn’t always quite so close to the surface.  But when it does well up, I’ve learned to move out of the way and let it happen.

So here’s another video.  And on it I mention my son coming over, but plans got cancelled, which is alright.  I stopped at the craft store earlier and have origami and coloring books to keep me having fun.  Oh!  And I also got to pick up my flute from the music shop today since the repairs were done.  So all is well.  🙂

How The Internet Going Out Changed My Life

Do you ever have one of those days where you just *know* that fate had a hand in the events that played out?  It’s been awhile since I’ve felt that, but today was one of those days.

It was more than just the unlikely sequence of events that took place that left me feeling like that.  Preposterous things in general have a way of showing up in my life, so that’s not enough to make me raise an eyebrow.  No.  These events had a little something extra added to them.  Each one increasing the presence of that extra feeling that if I had to put words to it, might say something like, “Pay extra attention . . . magic is afoot . . . something bigger is unfolding.”

So my internet went out again this last week.  This is the 3rd time in a month.  And when it goes out, it goes out for  d a y s.  I have to completely shift how I live life.  It is absolutely amazing to me how much I rely on it now, when 20 years ago, I had never heard of it.  But anyways, being ever the optimist I’m like, “Okay, well shit.  What to do now . . . ”

This alone is a micro-series of events that took place.  It involves a whole weekend of meeting up with different friends and going to the movies and coffee shops, another weekend of inviting my son over for dinner and board games (yahtzee . . . lots of yahtzee), going to a used bookstore and finding 5 book gems that I couldn’t wait to get home and read.  It involved even more inner reflection than usual (I had nothing else to do while I stared into blank nothingness as I ate my dinner.)

So all of that led to my most recent post about all of my thinking about ‘art’.  After writing that post, the thought stream didn’t end there, it continued on the next day (usually writing about something will satisfy whatever is going on in my head and proceed to leave me alone . . . but not so here).  In that post, I had brought up my flute playing from when I was younger.  It started to haunt me.

I had completely forgotten about the musician in me.  I’ve been a mom and business analyst for so long, it completely escaped my mind that this wasn’t all I used to be.  In fact, I was so into my music in school, I fully intended to major in Music.  I was going to make it my life.  I remembered asking my mom what kind of things they have a person do to get a Ph.D in music, and she said they do things like give you an unfinished score from Mozart or one of the greats and ask you to finish it.  That scared the living shit out of me, but I was like . . . I’ll do it.  That’s how I knew that was my field.

As a little girl I had wanted to be many things and I could never make up my mind.  I wanted to be a archeologist and dig in dirt and find old things.  I wanted to be an astrophysicist and study the universe.  I wanted to be a teacher, but mostly because I wanted the summers off.  When I thought of trying to deal with 30+ kids at once, I decided that wasn’t the job for me.  I would look into what it took to be all of these things I wanted to be, and more often than not I’d see the requirements and make a scrunched up face and say . . . uh . . no.

But music . . . I was willing to go through hell and back for music.

It’s just that one day in high school I kind of hit a wall.  I had reached an incredible level of playing ability with my flute, but I just couldn’t get it to the next level.  Something in me was missing.  Something wasn’t gelling in me.  I would practice for endless hours.  My sophomore year in high school, I had a tutor who had played in the Seattle Symphony.  The first time she spoke on the phone with my mother (to arrange the lessons) and upon hearing that I wanted to go into music as a career, the tutor let my mom know that the music field is ruthless and you have to give everything you’ve got to make it in that industry and that she always encouraged her students to get a degree in some sort of science first as a backup.  She always recommended it.

Then I went to my first lesson with her.  To gauge my skill she pulled out a couple of music books and had me sight read a couple of pieces.  Saying nothing she went to her extensive music library and pulled out some more books.  This.  Now play this.  That was the entire lesson, me playing one thing after another.  Then she gave me my homework of what to study for my next lesson, and then I started to walk home.

By the time I returned home, the tutor had already called my mother.  She called simply to say, “If she wants to do music, then let her do it.  She’s got what it takes to make it.”

I honestly don’t know what I had done to impress her, but at my next lesson there was talk of traveling to Paris and competing there and . . . and . . .

That’s when I hit the wall.  I suddenly could go no further.  Something in me completely locked up and froze.  As I said before, something in me was missing.  I didn’t know what it was then . . . but I know what it is now.  It took me over 20 years of life experience and of completely walking away from music and everything I loved, in order to gain that missing something in me.  I know without a doubt that I would not have made it very much further without the experience and knowledge I’ve gained from the last couple of decades.  It would have been futile.  I would have been banging my head against a wall and I don’t think things would’ve ended well for me if I had forced it anyways.

So all of this was coming back to me.  Music.  My first love in life.  I’m not just a mom or an analyst.  I am a musician.  Even just saying it out loud brought me such peace . . . and tears.  It wasn’t just remembering I was a musician, it was allowing that feeling and reality back into my awareness.  It’s been in my peripheral for so long I had become blind to it.  I spoke about it, I’ve even tried over the years to try and play instruments again . . . but it just wasn’t time yet and so it floated in and out of my life over the years like the tide.  But this time something different is happening.

And then came today.  I woke up again with that feeling of waking from a dream and remembering, “I am a musician.” with an underline feeling of excitement.  It was like saying to myself, “I won the lottery.”  I had stopped at the music store yesterday to get a silver polishing cloth because I was going to clean my flute up all nice and pretty.  I was looking forward to beginning the process of reacquainting myself with my dear old friend.  This flute has been with me for 20+ years.  I first picked up a flute 26 years ago.  Just the act of cleaning it brought me back to all those years ago.

I was checking everything on it and I saw that the cork in the head joint was most likely going to need to be replaced.  The position it was in meant that there was nothing I could do to make my flute be in tune.  I cannot play an out of tune flute.  It’s against Jenn Law.  But no matter, the music store is just a stone’s throw from my apartment.  Which was good because the internet technician was supposed to come to fix the internet, and I had been given a time frame of 8am-6pm.  So I couldn’t go too far.

I got to the music store and turned in my flute to the repair shop.  However, I wanted to play an instrument so bad, I walked over to the display case where all of the really nice flutes for sell were.  I started trying them out and proceeded to fall in love with one in particular, and so I was like screw it, I’ll buy it.  You can never have enough silver flutes I always say.

But I needed to move some money from my savings account.  I asked for them to hold it while I went home to take care of the financial part of it . . . but then I remembered I had no internet and so I decided to (finally) download the bank app for my bank and sign up on my mobile so I could transfer funds there.

It was while I was in the middle of this that the extra feeling started to make itself known to me.  Something in the background of my senses was flagging me down.  I had somehow gone from internet not working to standing in a music store trying to transfer funds for a 2nd flute.  Also I was wondering if this was my version of having a mid-life crisis.  Instead of a Corvette or Porsche, I was going to own a variety of impossibly expensive flutes.

I entered the information in the app to identify myself and the app said, “Uh, sorry but the shit you typed in doesn’t match the shit we have in our system.”  I figured I mistyped something, and so I did it all again . . . my debit card number . . . my pin . . . last 4 of my SSN.  Nope.  So I did it again.  “Not only nope, but now we’ve locked your ass out of the system . . . call this number.”  So I called, and the woman was looking stuff up and then she asked for the last 4 numbers of my debit card.  I gave it and then she said, “Oh . . . that’s what is wrong.”  And then dead awkward silence.

So what happened, is that my account was a part of *something* (she didn’t say what) that could have compromised my account information and so they had sent me a new debit card with a new number.  The *something* happened on April 1st and they sent the card with explanation on April 2nd.  Sooo I can’t do anything online, only in person transactions.

And you know what?  I wasn’t even mad.  I was glad they were on top of their shit and protected me, and also . . . this was the moment that the feeling became clear to me that something was going on that was out of the ordinary . . . I was being led to something specific.  Life had a game plan unfolding and was in the process of herding me towards it.  So I explained it to the people and they were totally happy to hold the flute until my new debit card came and I was ready to continue on my day.

Except the whole “I am a musician” thing.  I was stoked for two days to get to play my flute today and now my one is in the shop and it was suddenly not made possible for me to get a 2nd one.  However . . . a couple of years ago I went through one of my momentary moods of attempting to get back into music and had gone to rent a violin . . . which I paid off completely a year ago shortly after my Raven Kitty girl died.  I’ve had it for 2 years . . . and I have never even pulled it out of the case.

I had wanted to sink my teeth into something I already knew how to do.  Get the taste of it back into my system and *then* attempt to learn a new instrument.  And yet everything had coalesced into a situation in which I was completely set to play a musical instrument . . . and yet my known instrument was suddenly yanked out from under me, leaving me only one choice.

I came home with the recommended books for starting out on violin.  By this point, the feeling of *destiny* was very much in the air and in my veins.  Violin was actually the first instrument I had ever played.  I played for a year in 4th grade but then moved to a place that only had bands and no orchestras . . . and so started my journey with the flute.  But violin . . . oh . . . where do I even begin.  Nothing . . . and I mean nothing speaks to me like a haunting gypsy melody played on the violin.  Or like the part in the song “Devil Goes Down To Georgia” (if you’ve never heard it a) have you been living under a rock your whole life? b) go to youtube and listen to it. now.)

I want to be playing *that* already, not being a new student on an instrument . . . but then again, the universe really has put itself out there to arrange this . . . so . . .

So I read the intro and everything to the Suzuki Method book.  It’s the very same book I used when learning the violin as a little girl.  The intro is surprisingly . . . well . . . meaningful.  Suzuki isn’t messing around.  He goes all meta like I do, “Education begins the day a child is born.  As an infant’s body grows day by day, its powerful life-force absorbs all the stimuli it receives externally, developing in the process of acquiring ability.  Without stimulus to the life-force, there will be no development in the child.  Under conditions of neglect, nothing and no one can grow.”

Holy shit Mr Suzuki-san.  Is this volume 1 of learning violin or the answers to the universe?  I love you crazy violin person.  Actually, this is very indicative of the Japanese culture and something I feel and know (remember) intrinsically in me.  I understand this level of crazy, so I was all in by this point, but still I was touched further when I read this sentence, “The violin is a medium for cultivating human character, ability, and heart.”

In fact, I had to take a moment’s pause to let some heart felt tears make their way out.  The accumulation of all of this was really getting to me.

I can imagine it would be like an amputee suddenly growing their limb back.  Losing the limb . . . going 20+ years coming to peace with it . . . and then it magically starting to grow back.  There’s a mix of disorientation, nostalgia, relief, . . . and . . . a larger understanding of life.

But still . . . I was having a hard time getting myself to pull the violin out of the case.  What is it?  What was stopping me?  I kept reading through the instruction books.  Proper stance, proper way to hold the bow.  How to tune, proper maintenance of the violin.  How to apply rosin . . . the name of the strings.  The instructions in French, German, & Spanish.

Something in me was wondering what the point was.  I’m not that 17 year old girl anymore.  There’s no plans to take the world by storm with my extraordinary musical talents.  There’s no audience waiting for me.  Come Monday morning I’m still going to be getting up to get ready to go to work . . . so what good does this do me?  What’s the point?  How could this make any difference in my life, I mean really?

Then I had a feeling flashback, going back to when I would spend 5 or more hours a day practicing my flute.  It brought solace to me.  In a world gone wrong, it made me feel okay again.  As I strengthened my flute skills, my body and emotions became strengthened and I could withstand the hardships in life much easier.  Being a musician is something that is for me.

So at last I reached a point where I pulled the violin out.  I dusted it off with a soft cloth.  I tightened and rosined the bow.  It was time to start tuning the strings.  I took a deep breath and drew the bow across one of the strings . . . and it rung out deep and strong.  I felt the power of the sound of the violin vibrate through my bow, my hand, and my heart.  In that moment, I understood why the universe had worked so hard to coerce and push me towards this.

There’s listening to a violin on recordings . . . in songs . . . from other people playing it.  I’ve enjoyed the violin immensely in this way.  It is an instrument that touches my soul in a way that nothing else comes close to.

But experiencing the violin as the one holding it and drawing the bow across the string myself was another thing entirely.  It is something I would willingly dedicate the rest of my life to learning.  It’s like it enables a doorway through which my soul is easily able to sing through.  This is something my heart has been searching and longing for . . . an outlet in which it can be fully expressed.  It’s like my heart was trapped in a prison and was banging on the walls, and then the stroke of the bow on a single string made the prison doors fly open and my heart could suddenly breathe the air of freedom.

Who needs an audience when the simple act of playing gives you something as valuable as that?

Today was the start of something new for me.  I went back to the music store and told them that there was no need to hold the 2nd flute for me, I had found what I was actually looking for.  They helped me pick out a few new things for my violin.  I requested to be put on a list to be contacted when they have a new violin teacher for lessons.

Something in me has settled down and is pleased that I’ve finally taken the first steps down this road.  In this I look forward to being a student.  I look forward to the whole journey, from learning how to properly hold the instrument to sassing it up with my devilish gypsy ways.

And yes, come Monday morning, I will get up to get ready for work just as I always do . . . but something new has started to blossom in my heart.  Something that I get to nurture and grow and care for, for the rest of my days.

Violin Awesomness

The Moment Of Surrender

Years ago I had a very lucid dream where I had walked into a large room that looked very much like a classroom, but without the desks and chairs.  Some sort of special training appeared to be taking place.  The two people in charge approached me.

I don’t remember what they said exactly, but something along the lines of an audition taking place.  It was a special VIP invite only.  The best of the best had been gathered into this room.  The best of what?  Auditioning for what?  I have no idea.  But the looks I received from the instructors told me that they were thinking exactly what I felt.  “What are you doing here?”

I looked at the group of phenomenal people who were currently gathered in the middle of the room showing off their obvious talents.  Things were being fired at them.  Lasers, orbs, things I couldn’t identify.  Stuff whizzing throughout the center of the room.  Some were good at using weaponry they wielded, some had the ability to move fast, some used martial art-like moves to deflect and protect themselves.

The information that came to me about the situation, was that these people had been training hard since childhood.  This was something they had been dreaming of and working towards every moment of their life.

What on earth was I doing here?  I didn’t belong here.  The instructors asked me what my special ability was, and I just shook my head and told them I had no idea.  That there must have been some mistake.  I was starting to feel a little humiliated and embarrassed to be there.

The woman instructor did some sort of energetic scan of me to see if she could assess what stood out in me, but wasn’t able to hide her own disappointment when she found that no, nothing special stood out in me . . . confirming my own worst fears.  I got the impression that the only reason I was even there was because of who my dad was (in the dream).  My dad was apparently someone who held a great deal of respect and importance.  So I was feeling like *that* person.  The one who wasn’t there on their own merit.

I continued to watch and observe the others.  They were amazing.  I knew for sure I didn’t belong and with that acceptance in me I was able to let go of even trying to prove myself.  I would stay because I had been instructed to come here by some authority figure that I respected and trusted completely and wouldn’t even dream about disobeying, but I wasn’t going to try and pretend to be someone or something I wasn’t.

It felt good to accept the reality of my situation in which I found myself instead of panicking and trying to force something to happen.  I found myself smiling at them.  Appreciating the hard work and dedication they had put into getting themselves to this level.  I admired them.  I respected them for the hard path they had chosen.  Their dedication.  Their spirit.  I looked forward to discovering my special ability so that I could work hard like them and maybe one day truly deserve to be here.

I thought perhaps that was the true reason I had been sent there in the first place.  Maybe an exercise in humbleness.  The understanding that you have to work hard to get what you want.  And I was okay with that.  I was okay with that being my lesson to learn from all of this if that’s what truly held me back in my growth.

With that feeling I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of peace and calm wash over me.

In that peace, I also felt love and joy.  I was happy with this lesson.  I was happy in my acceptance of what was, instead of what I wished it to be.  Maybe today wasn’t my day to shine, but one day it would be.

I became centered in myself.  The world outside of me became quiet.  The joy and peace that I felt inside began to grow and well up from deep within me.  With it, I felt music.  I felt a song.  I felt the vibration of my soul song.  It demanded that I express it in dance.

Eyes still closed, my heart open and at peace, I began to move.  I swirled on tiptoe, my arms spiraling out around me.  My body and the living music humming through me, moved as one.  Up on one foot, pause, and then swirl both arms to the right . . . and then to the left.  Right arm out and around and then behind me.

Every movement surrendered completely to the love and joy I felt moving through me in the most divine song.  My current situation totally forgotten.

Until I opened my eyes and found myself square in the middle of the firefight, completely untouched and unharmed.

Then a flash moment of, “OH SHIT! WTF am I doing?!”, while also catching the completely shocked faces of the instructors that I’m sure mirrored my own.  The woman instructor quickly pulled herself together and then yelled at me to keep doing whatever I had just been doing . . . because whatever it was . . . it was my special ability.

So I quickly closed my eyes to the chaos and danger all around me, willing the absolute terror I had started to feel away, and called back again the music inside and danced.  But now I was also aware of what was going on around me.  I could see with my mind’s eye, how every movement I made naturally moved me out of harms way.  Every twirl, every pause, every extension and sway kept all of my body in the safe spaces for that moment in time.

If I were to doubt, resist, question my movement at all . . . I would be hit.  But when I fully trusted in the music in me and let go of worrying or being afraid of what was happening around me, then I was perfectly safe.

I became so overjoyed in learning this about myself, that I truly had no reason to be afraid, that the music in me began to grow even stronger and louder, to the point that I was able to fully open my eyes and give in completely to the joy and ecstasy that it was to be me.

The intensity in me increased until I no longer saw the things being shot at me as my enemy, but as my dance partner in life.  I no longer saw the difference between the dance and the fight, they were one and the same.

Graceful Dance II

Putting The Person Back In Personal

So it looks like it’s about that time where I’m going to have to start interviewing for jobs again.

Which holds so many levels of personal terror, that I can’t even.

It brings up all of my insecurities.  It triggers my survival mode which then commences the “worst possible scenarios” loop sequence in my mind’s eye over and over.  I start living in my own personal theater of hell.

I try to push through it with things like . . . well like breathing for starters.

But this morning when I got up to start writing in my journal, I found that I was absolutely tired of living in this fear surrounding this area of my life.  And the only way I know how to truly conquer a fear of mine, is to face it head on with eyes wide open.

I get in it’s personal space and I stare it straight in the eyeball.

So while writing I asked myself why?  Why is this scaring me to death?  Why does it always scare me to death?  Why do I avoid really seeing and understanding this whole area of my life?

{Staring at it.}

The great thing about truly being done with your own bullshit, is that your questions become more direct and clear . . . and so do your answers.

I hate the whole process (job hunting) from start to finish, because I have no clarity or understanding about my own skills.  I have no clarity in my own skills because my entire career has been built from approaching jobs in a “I just need a job to survive and support my family” kind of way, and then I make myself find reasons to love the jobs I receive so that I excel at them and so that I can continue to support my family.

My focus has always been on what was easily apparent and noticeable about my skillset or previous jobs, that would be enticing to other companies.  Basically, “What do you want to hear?”  Because I *know* I can do whatever job I get.  All I’m trying to do is find ways to help the prospective employer understand that as well.

So I never actually dove into my own personal interests.  I never took time to understand for myself what things I’m actually good at or what it is that I really want to be doing or focusing on in my career.  It never occurred to me that maybe I’ve gathered enough skills and knowledge in the last twenty years or so, that this is now an option.

This old perception, which began when I was a teenager, has always left me feeling powerless and at the mercy of others.  I was always grateful for whatever I got.  I always worked myself to death to prove they had made a good decision in choosing me.  It’s truly an awful feeling and not the best perspective to live life from.  I mean, I’m good while I have a job . . . but start threatening my job and I become a frozen statue of terror.

Like I said last week, it feels like it’s time for a change.

For me personally, what makes me feel confident and open, is knowledge.  Information.  Why does this whole area of my life scare me?  Because I do not understand myself in that capacity or in relation to others.  I do not truly comprehend or see what skills or value I bring to the table of life.  If I don’t have this information and I do not understand it, then 1) how can I effectively communicate it to a prospective employer and 2) how do I know what direction I want to go in my career personally?

Hence.  The TERROR.  AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

But now I see the issue.  And now I can see the solution.  And now I can see the backside of TERROR as it turns tail to start running from me.

So I grabbed one of my blank dream journals and made it my notebook in which I will use to focus my efforts in this endeavor.  I am going to start combing through my work experience, starting with my current job, and I’m going to start writing down what I can come up with.

But that’s not the whole problem, and in fact . . . that is a very small part of the problem for me.  The key thing missing from my understanding is “in relation to others”.  I do not understand how I compare or how I stand out as an individual from the rest of the 7 billion people.  So, I’m not just going to rely on myself for my quest.  I’m going to get out there and start asking *you* guys.

So heads up if you’re in my other networks. 😀 And don’t avoid me either.  I’m tenacious. Oh! {writes that down in notebook}

Now, when I say that I am going to be asking others.  I don’t mean I’m asking for them to tell me FOR me what I’m good at or what my skills are.  I’m not trying to be lazy about it.  I plan on coming up with my own perspective.  But what is incredibly valuable to me that I can’t get from myself, is how other’s experience me personally.

To clarify further (pay attention, this will be on the test), while interacting with me (job, Starbucks’s line, comments section) what do *you* personally feel or experience with me that stands out for you in your mind.  The key point being, what is your own personal experience.

Not how would you word *me* in your resume, or let’s think about what I *think*  Jenn values and focus my comment around that.  No . . . I mean, in your own self, in your own world separate from the opinions of the planet and the channel 9 news team . . . what about me, stood out for you personally that you appreciated?

Jenn, wtf does that even mean?  And omg are you trying to tell me how to give you feedback?  Why should I even give it in the first place?  What’s in it for me?  Acting like I owe you or something.  Shoot.  Homegirl be trippin.

I know! I know!

I’m always trippin.  It’s cool.  It’s how I move through life.

This is valuable to me, because it’s the only way I am personally able to understand how I stand out from the rest of the world.

And truth be told, I feel like the ability to connect at a personal level has become lost to our world.  More and more I feel people no longer understand what that actually means.  We don’t talk to people anymore, we talk at them.  We walk around with our guards up 24/7 to the point that even we ourselves no longer know how we personally feel about things anymore.

We are losing who we are as individuals in the process.

Personal feelings, perspectives, and experiences are valuable to everyone.  But from the moment we are born, we are told how to feel and see everything, based on other’s perspectives and experiences.  In school we are taught how to see the world from the perspective of some vague “them”.  We’re told that to get along in life, you better have the perspective of your employer.

At no point are we encouraged to understand who we are as an individual or guided to understanding how to best incorporate that gift we bring into the whole so that we may all benefit from it.

No . . . we insist on perpetuating the dysfunction for everyone FOREVER, because fuck the individual.

This approach and attitude, is killing humanity’s spirit as a whole.  We are all dying from it.  I don’t want to die from that.  I want to die from too much happy or by rainbow or something.  I don’t know, but I don’t want to die because of *this*.

I want to understand my gift as an individual and I want to find the best way to incorporate that into the current structure so that as many can benefit from what I have to offer as possible.

So . . . I have to start somewhere, and this is where I’ve decided to start it.

Okay wait, first I have to go pee, and then I’ll start.

 resume cat

On The Very Threshhold Of The Golden Age . . . Be Brave And Endure

Have you ever had to go without something that you needed?  And by needed, I mean something basic and standard like oxygen.

Have you ever had to go without food, or not know when you would get more?  Or Water?

When you have to go too long without something that you need in order to nourish and keep yourself alive, it can produce a state of fearfulness.  Mistrust.  Guardedness.

Whatever little you have, you hide and guard with all you have.

That’s more of a physical example, an animal survival instinct.

But we’re more than physical beings.  We have basic needs that go beyond oxygen, food, water, & shelter.

Our Spirit needs . . . Spiritual need . . . is love.

When we are forced to go without love, we respond in the same manner emotionally as if we were low on food and water.

Because we’re at the end of a cycle, the love we were given from source at the beginning of the cycle has run very low.

The Kali Yuga period is the darkest part of the cycle, exactly because of this.  We’re running low on love . . . light from source.

It’s easy for the dark smoke entity to hide and cover up whatever love is left, and make us believe that it is all gone . . . leaving chaos and destruction in it’s wake.

But what is really interesting about the big cycle, is that it starts with the golden age . . . slowly decreases into darkness over thousands of years . . . until we hit the period we’ve been in.  But instead of it slowly increasing and reversing in the same speed that it declined . . . we suddenly jump from the darkest period of the cycle, back into the golden age.

Why?  Why does it do that?

Because the grand cycle, is a process of receiving our nourishment from the source that has to last us for the next cycle.  They talk about manna from heaven in the bible, and how the people survived off of this stuff for a long time.  Source pulses out a burst of light/love/consciousness/awareness once every grand cycle.

By the end of the cycle, we are dragging our mother fucking knuckles on the ground about ready to give up completely.  We are being mean, rotten, selfish, ignorant, etc.  We are in survival mode.  We are responding exactly as people who are starving to death . . . and we are . . . our love fuel tank is on E.

If you’ve ever suffered starvation or nutrient deficiency, you will know that you can’t think straight . . . everything is confusing and doesn’t make much sense.  You don’t make the smartest decisions.  Why do you think people associate being poor as being ignorant?

Humanity is not evil . . . it’s simply starving for love, or the energy sent to us from source every grand cycle.

Forgive them for they know not what they do.

The world religions, while yes some have turned into power plays and political disasters, initially were meant to help people keep faith when things started to darken.  As the ages progress, and the light/love source we were provided for the long haul starts to grow thinner and thinner . . . things start to get a little tough.

People start getting grumpier and grumpier.  More defensive.  More divided.  Less trusting of each other.  More isolated and separated.  Then the dark smoke entity starts to rub it’s hands together in glee because it becomes easier and easier to trick people when they become low in love.

We go through a period where we believe that our “God” has forsaken us.  Where is he?  Where did he go?

So there is a period of many generations, where you are just going strictly off of collective memories, stories, faith, and belief regarding this loving entity.  A prophecy of his return.

His return, is when the grand cycle is complete, and it’s time to refill all of our reserves with the light/love from source.  And it comes all at once.  The golden love energy.  The Golden Age.  The Great Awakening.

Why is it the Great Awakening?  Because we are so starved, we are spiritually weak and when you’re spiritually weak . . . you forget.  The more starved you become, the more you forget and fall into darkness.

Inspirational things are what we use to try and keep the Spirit alive through the darkest times.  Singing, dancing, making merry, happiness, joy, love . . . we keep the traditions and rituals going for as long as possible in order to carry some of the light/love from source through our darkest times.  Until one day they end.  Because we’ve run all out of that spiritual substance that we NEED.

There are many monasteries, etc. whose soul purpose is to hold that love and light in remote parts of the world in order to keep all of us from plunging completely into darkness.  Who in the darkest times start to become mocked and disrespected.  But who keep doing it anyways, because they know it’s important.  That is faith.

But we also keep a small spark of that energy deep within ourselves . . . that we guard with all that we have because it’s the only thing that keeps us from dying.

Which brings us to now.  We are at the teeter totter end of the cycle.  The very darkest before the light.  Were we are all feeling isolated and alone because we’re forced to in order to protect that last bit of spark love inside of us.  Scared.  Defensive.  Trying to not lose hope.  Trying to keep the faith in Love.  Faith in Light’s return.

Just like we do in winter . . . hoping that spring and life comes back to us.  It’s exactly the same thing . . . the micro within the macro.  In the Grand Cycle, we are at the precipice of Spring.  We are all holding our breaths for the Event.  Hoping, praying, that the Light returns to us.  That we haven’t been forgotten.  That something didn’t happen during the thousands of years since our last renewal, that will prevent the light from getting to us.

I’m here to tell you, that we have not been forgotten.  The Light is on its way even as we speak, and it cannot be stopped.

It’s okay to let go of your fear and doubts.  I know you’re tired and worn to the bone . . . but give it one more chance.

The energy is already beginning to reach us, and like flowers . . . we have to be willing to open in order to receive the sunshine in order to be fed.

You’ve been tight in fear in order to protect your last spark of love, the same as a hungry person guards the last scrap of food they have.

But it’s okay to let go now.  If you can find the strength and courage in yourself to trust . . . just one more time . . . and open your heart and feel your love . . . push past fears and doubts that will try to pull on you . . . you will be able to feel the beginnings of the Light returning for the Golden Age.

If you’re still enough . . . you’ll feel it start to fill your personal reservoirs again.  Right now is not about convincing others about this . . . it’s about getting yourselves filled up and strong.

You don’t need to worry about others anymore.  I know some of you who have had some extra love energy have been using it to keep others who have been losing theirs . . . but you don’t need to do that anymore.  It’s going to be okay now.  The renewal has started . . . so those who are the most sensitive will be able to pick up and benefit from it right now.  The rest will follow.

The Legions of Light are arriving.  You can let go of the fear and worry that nags at you subconsciously.

funny-turtle-sea-white-zoo-water

 

 

 

Here Comes Trouble

I had another interesting dream last night (awww Mercury in Pisces, I love you).

Within the dream, I watched as a group started to pack up a mobile museum into the back of a large pickup truck.  I don’t know whether it was the mascot or what, but there was a live horse that was a part of this group.  They had packed him into the back of the truck first . . . like he was one of the inanimate objects of the museum.

He was laying on his left side.  His legs folded up and against the side of the truck closest to me.  He had straps going across to secure him and keep him from moving around too much during the trip.  They were going to pack the rest of the things in around him.  Someone was giving him a food dish, and said that he’d also need water so he didn’t die.

During all of this, my dream became more lucid.  I didn’t understand what was going on, so I was just observing.  But something was pulling on my feelings about it.

I never stopped looking at the horse . . . he was an off white color.  I very slowly continued to approach the vehicle as I tried to understand what was bothering me.

He just laid there.  He had just let them arrange him however he needed to be without fight or struggle.

This wasn’t setting well with me.  But based on the situation and how everything appeared . . . how everyone acted . . . there was nothing wrong.  Everything was exactly right and proper.

But I had a distant memory nagging at me . . . “but where is his spirit?

I had this distant knowing or memory of horses not being like this.  That at one time horses were symbolic of being wild and running free.

Why was it going against what this reality was showing me?  Why did I keep getting glimmers of  a feeling like I wanted to cry?  Why did something not feel right about this?

I looked into the horse’s eye.  I felt a connection with the horse.  It pulled on something deep within me that I had forgotten.  The feeling of wanting to cry kept coming and going from me like breathing.

The deeper I went into the connection between me and the horse, the stronger the need to cry became.  The more a forgotten memory started to come back to me.  The more I started to become aware of something so incredibly painful inside of me that I had purposely forgotten in order to get relief from it.

But it was also something I desperately missed.  Within that pain was something that I missed with all of my heart.

His will . . . his will was broken.

My will . . . my own will was broken when I was younger.

When trying to domesticate a horse . . . they must be “broken”.  To break an animal or a person is to break their own personal will in order to do the will of another.

There’s refining someone’s will in order to fit into society and get along with others.  That’s the whole Aries –> Libra axis.  When we’re first born, we have raw personal will.  As we grow older, we learn how to refine it into something more polished and hopefully more beautiful . . . but the person should still retain something of themselves in that process.

They should still have their own personal will.  This is the energy or thing that motivates us.  It’s how we know what we want.  It’s how we go after or approach challenges.  Do we go after what we want . . . or do we let the forces around us decide for us what we’re going to do or not do?

The wilder something is . . . the harder it is to break.  There are some things that aren’t meant to be tamed or domesticated.  Being wild and free . . . is who they are.  To see them broken . . . like the horse I saw in the back of the truck . . . is almost too much for my heart to handle.

There are those who are so controlling and filled with ego, that they will go to any length to break a wild thing’s will.  To show dominance.  To have a trophy.  To feel good about themselves because they are so lacking in confidence and will themselves.

Sometimes they think it’s for the wild thing’s own good, either they break it or the world will do it.  It’s perceived as an act of love.

Let me break you . . . so that you won’t have to suffer the pain of the world breaking you.

What a tangled web human’s weave.

In my chart . . . I’m about as wild and untamed as they get.

I had such willfulness when I was younger.  To the point that I had no concept of asking for permission to do anything.  If I was playing with some toys in the house and suddenly had an image of the park flash into my mind . . . then I’d simply stand up and walk out the house and go to the park.

I can’t imagine how many heart attacks I gave my parents.  I knew what I knew, and I knew what I wanted.  What they wanted did not register into my awareness at all.  It didn’t even make sense to me.  What did my wants and needs have to do with them?

My dad is from the Appalachian mountains.  You don’t get away with shit when you’re from the Appalachian mountains.  You either do as you’re told by your parents, or your ass is grass.

My ass was frequently grass.

This comes from having to survive in very harsh conditions in the mountains.  My dad’s family is from Irish heritage.  The Irish weren’t really wanted over here.  So they were forced into the areas that nobody else was able to survive, and forced to find a way to survive.  And they did.

I come from strong stock.

But it also forced the families into living in constant survival mode.  This means everything is a life or death circumstance.  This means, when your parents tell you to go do something, you don’t sit there and whine and break down that you’re scared.  It means you suck it up and get your ass out there, or everyone may die.

So then the getting your ass whipped every time you disobey becomes understandable.  It’s to keep you from dying.  It *is* being done from a place of love.  The thing is, after a few generations . . . you no longer remember why it was done, only that it is.

So even though I didn’t grow up in those circumstances, I was raised as if I was.  But obviously, something needs to change.  This means that eventually in one of the generations, someone is going to be treated that way as a child . . . but they’re going to have to find the strength and will to overcome it and NOT break the will of their own children.

And that someone would need to have an enormous amount of will.

So . . . ta-da.

As my favorite shirt said when I was growing up, “Here comes trouble”.

All I know, is that my dad must’ve REALLY loved me.  Because that man did not back off or give up in trying to get me to understand the rules.  I would’ve been exhausted trying to raise me.

My mom’s family is more from a refined societal background.  I supposed considered more “civilized”.  But the dark side to Libra, or the sign of refined manners and all things beautiful and harmonious, is in becoming so passive that you basically check out of doing anything for yourself.

So my dad did severe disciplining, and my mom stood back and did nothing and just kind of checked out and became a victim.  Libra can also be kind of judgey.  Sit and judge the “animalstic” behavior of others, while not seeing their own part in what is playing out and not doing anything about it for themselves.

My dad always looked like the bad guy.  My mom always looked like a victim.  But if one had the ability to look at the energetic dynamics playing underneath the surface of what was being shown . . . and I did and I do . . . then you can see that my mom was equally at fault.

But our society is only interested in making judgments based on what can be seen and proven, and so until we get past such juvenile thinking . . . we will continue to have aggressors and victims and cannot progress past wars and people going hungry.

So I’m not interested in hearing that I was severely abused.  Maybe I was.  Maybe I wasn’t.  It doesn’t matter.  All I’m interested in, is stopping the bullshit from continuing past my generation.

However, I do need to recognize what happened when I was younger so that I can put myself back together and be an agent of true change in the world.

My will was broken when I was younger.  It was so severe, that I literally broke my lower back when I was around 6 or 7.

I was in Germany and sledding by myself.  The snow was so slick from all the people sledding earlier in the day, that my sled went way too fast.  In short I ended up face down in the middle of the road, paralyzed from the waist down.  And down the hill to my right was a big ass car coming, and they weren’t going to be able to see me in time.

So I closed my eyes and pulled on everything within me, and I willed myself to move.  I didn’t want to die SO BAD . . . that I literally willed my paralyzed self to move enough to get to the sidewalk.  I got out of the way in time, and the car stopped anyways to ask if I was okay.  I said I was fine.

I spent the next hours in excruciating pain crawling an inch at a time to get back to my building and up the stairs.  The whole time I was willing myself better.  By the time I got to my mom, who was thankfully at a neighbors on the first floor instead of our fourth floor, all I could manage to get out of my mouth was that I had a stomach ache.  I said I wanted to throw up.

So she gave me Pepto-Bismol and had me lay down.  That was the last I thought about my lower back, until years later as an adult, when I got a 360 degree x-ray at a chiropractor’s office and the guy’s eyes about fell out of his head.  He wanted to know when I had broken my back.  I looked, and yes . . . it was scary looking . . . but mostly because it wasn’t until then that I had understood fully what I had done all those years ago.

It had snapped, twisted a little and fused itself back together, causing a slight curve in my spine.

So will.  I haz it.  Or I did.

After that day . . . my will became less and less.  Because I was young I had a lot of energy still . . . but never quite the willfulness I had before.  I quit fighting things so much.  I quit wanting things my way.

I had been broken.  Literally.

I do believe that things happen how they’re meant to.  I needed to know life without my willfulness so that I did understand the Libra side of things.  And the only way that was going to happen, is if it was severe enough.

Once I had done what I needed to in that broken state . . . it was time for me to heal that break in me and come back to myself.

So while staring into the eyes of the horse . . . I began to remember a previous existence from when I was a younger girl.

A time when I had such spirit and a strong will to live.  A time when my spirit ran free and I believed I could do anything.

A time when I wasn’t afraid of being myself around others.

I’m returning to that part of me, but there’s a difference between now and then.

Back then, I didn’t know what it was that I had that the other’s around me lacked.  I didn’t know what set me apart from anyone else.  I didn’t know what to call the energy and joy and spunk that naturally came out of me.

But now I can see that it was will.  It was confidence.  It was an open-heartedness to life.  It was love.  It was joy and hope.  It was the essence of life itself.  A flame of life that lives within me.

After having gone without it for so long, I now know the value of what I hold inside of me.  I know how rare and precious it is in the current world, and it’s up to me to protect and guard it . . . to never let it go out in me again.

I am and have something of value.

When I’m respected and valued by others, I am more than happy to share all I have with others.

But try to take it from me by force, or keep it for your own, or treat me like I’m not worth your time . . .

Then Here Comes Trouble.

zebra kick to the face

Breaking Open

The breakup was back in November.

But I still miss him.

I still love him.

Tonight’s crying has been the most heartbreaking so far.

The reality of what’s happened has only now seeped through the ice and defenses that have been my exterior, and reached my core.

So the crying is coming straight from my heart.

The kind of deep hurt that only comes when you’ve taken the risk of opening your heart fully to someone.

And then losing them.

And everything you had dreamed together.

And there’s nothing you can do about it.

I thought the failure of the relationship meant that I had failed.

That maybe I still hadn’t learned how to trust.  That I still hadn’t learned how to be open and vulnerable.   That I still hadn’t learned how to let someone into my heart.

But right now . . . as I sit here feeling like my whole world is crashing down on me . . . and like my heart is being shattered into a million pieces . . .

I am starting to see the gift that has been given.

I’m not feeling like this because I failed to learn how to trust or how to open my heart to another human . . . I’m feeling like this because I succeeded in doing those things.

The feeling is at once the most painful and most beautiful thing I’ve ever had to endure.

It feels like the most intolerable thing a human being could be asked to endure while still conscious.

But something that I’m only able to experience if I’m connected to my heart . . .

And with that realization, it becomes something so extraordinary and precious to the human experience.

Something I wouldn’t give up for the whole world.

I have spent my WHOLE life being afraid of love.

I have spent my WHOLE life trying to hide and protect myself from getting hurt.

I have spent my WHOLE life alone and afraid.

And as I sit here crying and curled up in the fetal position feeling the one thing I have most feared my whole life . . . I’m finding my heart again.

Through the fear and pain of the heartache, I can see and feel everything in me that is my love and heart.

And it’s all of me.

I had thought I lost my ability to love.

But no.  I love with all of me.  I love with everything I have.

As I’m feeling my heart come back to me I’m remembering why I cut it off.

The things happening in this world break my heart.

I can hardly stand it.

The things I see in the news . . . the way people treat each other just in everyday life . . . it makes me cry so deeply.

The way the school systems systematically crush the spirit and love out of children, and all we do is stand by and watch feeling helpless.

WHY ARE THERE HOMELESS AND HUNGRY PEOPLE!!! THERE IS MORE THAN ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE!

What the FUCK is wrong with the people on this planet!?!?!?

What are we doing?!?  What are we doing to ourselves?!  And why?!  WHY DO WE LIVE LIKE THIS?!

I don’t understand, I’ve never understood.  My heart can’t handle it.

We let bad and stupid things happen to people because “that’s just the way it is”.  But why?!  Why does it stay that way?  It doesn’t need to be that way!  Goddammit it makes me so angry!

What the fuck has happened to us?

This is NOT how things are supposed to be!

This is NOT alright, this is NOT okay!  This is horrible!

The violence, the arrogance, the ignorance, the suffering, the heartbreak, the loss of hope . . .

Why?

Why do we all sit in our pain and suffering alone?  We are killing ourselves . . . we are dying inside . . . and we can’t see past ourselves in order to see what needs to change.

We are so frozen in fear that we are unable to help ourselves.

It tears me apart and breaks my heart over and over.

I used to cry alone all of the time when I was younger because of things I heard people doing to each other all over the world.

Why?!  Why?!  Why?!

Killing and hurting each other over things that don’t matter, that don’t mean anything!?  It’s so insane I can’t comprehend it.

Who FUCKING CARES if people are gay?!  I don’t understand what that has to do with ANYTHING that is important.  They are human beings!  And they deserve to be loved and nurtured and cared for and happy the same as the rest of us!  Any GOD who says that two people who love each other are in sin is WRONG.  I don’t fucking care who it is, I will tell any God to his face that they are wrong in this matter!

And nobody, NOBODY should be homeless or hungry.  No fucking body.  I don’t care if they are lazy, assholes, or straight up serial killers.  NOBODY should be homeless or hungry.  That’s not something you GODDAMN FUCKING EARN!  There are some things that each and every person should get to have no matter who they are or how they behave . . . and food and shelter are two of those things.  The third is love.  Everybody . . . everybody should be made to feel loved.

And the prison system!  We act like we have nothing to do with how the people in the prison system are.  We act like our decisions and choices as a community or nation have nothing to do whatsoever with the way the people in the prison system are.  They are nothing more than our scapegoats.  At some point in their lives they were neglected and failed by their families and communities and they are paying the price for all of our failures.  People are scared of them and judge them . . . but THEY are the things about ourselves that we don’t want to acknowledge or deal with.

Mental institutions?  Same thing.

And guess what?  It’s gotten so out of control that it’s catching up to us.  We won’t be able to run from ourselves anymore.  Everyone will start seeing how they are the very thing that they judge.  That they are the very thing they hate and fear in one form or another.  How this world isn’t real, only the souls and spirits in it . . . and how you treat the souls and spirits in it is of far more importance than anything physical you see.

{Sigh}

I love you.  I love each of you.  I can feel you in my heart, and your hurts are my hurts.  Your happiness is my happiness.  I don’t care what you’ve done in the past . . . I want you to know happiness . . . I want you to know love.  I want you to feel like you belong.  I want you to feel like someone would care if something happened to you.  I want you to know uninhibited joy.  I want you to feel seen.  I want you to feel heard.  I want you to feel like you matter.

Because you do.  You mean the world to me.

It’s Going To Be Okay

There’s a lot going on in the world at the moment.  There’s a lot going on in individuals at the moment.

There’s been a sharp increase in the last few weeks of people experiencing their first anxiety attacks.  During this same time period there has been a sharp increase in people having vivid/lucid dreams . . . who normally never remember their dreams at all.

Many of the dreams point towards an event that is coming.

The discussions surrounding the event are typically met with disbelief, fear, relief (bring it!), or an onslaught of bible verses.

I have had lucid dreams pointing towards this time my entire life.  I have also had a lifelong issue with generalized anxiety.  Maybe there’s a correlation.  : )

To those who are experiencing these things for the first time, please know that you’re not alone.  And please know, that it’s going to be okay.

Please know that there are many of us surrounding you in your everyday lives, who have been going through this for some time . . . and we know how to help during this difficult time.

First and foremost . . . b r e a t h e.

When you feel like things are beginning to overwhelm you . . . stop whatever you’re doing . . . close your eyes . . . let everything go . . .  and slow yourself down enough to be able to take at least one full breath all of the way in as deep as you need to in order to feel like it was a deeply satisfying breath.

It may take a few times, but keep trying and slowing down your internal rhythm until you get that one breath in.

Secondly, don’t be afraid to open up to others and talk about what’s bothering you.  You may be surprised to find that others are having the same concerns and fears, and feeling alone in it too.  Anxiety is heightened when you feel alone in your situation.

To those who have already been dealing with these feelings for years . . . I kindly request that you start letting yourselves be known so that others know where to turn for guidance.  This is the time, and this was the reason for you going through all you did ahead of time.  You are greatly needed right now.

Remember how scared you were . . . confused . . . lost . . . alone.  And have mercy on those starting to experience these things.  Be present with them and their fear.  See them.  Let them know it’s okay.  Hug them.

There is one thing I know and see with all of my heart.  And that is, when the moment of truth comes, and we’re all faced with our physical mortality . . . is when we will all truly show ourselves and see each other for the first time.  We will understand and know within our whole being at a depth previously unimagined, how much we truly love each other.  How much we truly love everyone.  How much everyone truly loves us.

And it’s going to be okay.

Warm Colored Sky

It’s Happening

There are large cycles.  There are smaller cycles running within the larger cycles like a giant wristwatch full of gears.  Things repeat.  Stories people told about things that happened long ago, later become the prophecy of a future yet to come.  An ebb and flow of forgetting and remembering.

The story is repeated and echoed in all things great and small, waiting patiently to be seen and discovered once again.

This has all happened before, and it will all happen again.

A fine red dust starts to enter Earth’s atmosphere, initially undetectable.  Over the years, as it slowly increases, it begins to accumulate on the surface below.  Nothing really noticeable.  Maybe some start to notice a light pink color builds up around their faucets and where ever else water is used.  The few who bother to inquire about what it is, hear that it’s some sort of bacteria, so they think nothing of it and move on.

For years, this continues.

Sky 1

In the meantime, technology continues to advance rapidly.  Things continue to happen faster and faster at an exponential rate.  What used to take decades now happens in months.  What used to take months now happens in days.  What used to happen in days now happens in hours.  Instead of using that freed up time to do the things we love, value, and enjoy . . . we push ourselves to work harder on things we have convinced ourselves are important, in order to get more things that we think will make us happier.  It never does.  Instead, we just become disconnected from ourselves and each other, and we become lost.

Because we’ve become so busy in our pursuit of happiness, we’ve become less aware of ourselves and our surroundings.  The more unaware we become, the less we understand . . . or even remember what used to be really important to us.  Since we can’t think of what is important to us anymore, we become less motivated and inspired about life.  We start looking for something of importance, but there isn’t time to dig deep, the pace is too quick . . . so we latch on to whatever *seems* to be important on the surface.  Maybe based on what our employer tells us is important.  Or what we hear or read from others.  Who knows?  Who has the time to really figure it out?

Life begins to lose meaning.  It loses excitement, fun, and joy.  It becomes harder and harder to relax.  Things become more and more serious.  Darker.  We move into avoidance to try and save ourselves from this place.  Alcohol, shopping, reality tv, politics, finances, war. . . anything to make this awfulness go away.  We start to close off from ourselves, because the accumulation of all of the things that were truly important to us that we avoided dealing with over the years is starting to catch up with us.  We don’t know where we are, or how we got there, or what to do about it.  When we start to close off from ourselves, we are also closing off from others.  Becoming more guarded . . . defensive.

Trust and intimacy start to break down.  Isolation.  We start to feel alone in our pain and misunderstood.  Power struggles become more pronounced.  Confusion.  Survival.  Which leads to control and manipulation of ourselves and others because we’re scared, lost, and no longer know what the fuck is going on.

At some point, there is an acknowledgement that something is *off* in the world.  Something is going on.  But because no one has been paying attention, or have been actively trying to avoid it because it’s too much to handle on top of all of the other things exploding in our individual lives . . . nobody knows what is happening.  All effort goes into continuing to not face all of the things we avoided the last decades in our personal lives, as well as avoiding what is happening right outside our windows.

Meanwhile . . . this fine red dust has been gently drifting and collecting all over the globe.  It’s more noticeable now for anyone paying attention.  The leaves on some of the trees begin to turn a curious red shortly after they unfurl on the branches.  One tree has some of the leaves turning a deep red . . . almost purple.  Another tree has a light dusting of red on the surface of the leaves.  A cedar tree here and there has a branch that looks rusted, as well as the pine trees.  Some of the bushes have something curious happening with them too.  Plants with red spots spreading across the leaves.

Tree 2

Tree 3

Tree 4

Bushes1

Year after year, this continues.  The leaves begin to dry up immediately after they’ve come out in spring.  Some trees never dropped their dried up leaves from the year before.  Once it is noticed, it becomes hard to ignore because it’s affecting so many trees and plants.

Tree 1

But, who has time to worry about what is going on with the trees, when we’re not feeling well ourselves?  It sometimes seems so hard to breathe.  Headaches, nausea, vertigo, disorientation.  Stomach cramping, weakness, fatigue.  Fevers, hot flashes.  Hair loss.  Many who have never had a problem before, struggling with anxiety.  Adrenal exhaustion.  Kidney infections.  Liver trouble.  Heart problems.  Mental & emotional problems.  Depression.  Suicide.

The populace seems to be struggling increasingly with anger, violence, and rage.  Stress levels continue to rise, and accusations and blame start to get pointed at each other.  Everything under the sun is getting blamed for why things are like they are.  It’s because of you, it’s because of me, it’s because of the government, it’s because of the financial markets, it’s because of the wars, it’s because of people’s negativity, it’s because of past lives, it’s because of the sinners and it’s god’s wrath and punishment.

Or perhaps, those things are all stemming from a physiological response to something that has been silently coming into our atmosphere for many, many years?  However, we’ve become so focused on immediate surface responses . . . that we think the things we are feeling and experiencing are due to what is immediately in front of us or the people around us.  We don’t stop to think that maybe it’s something bigger than all of us . . . and that we’ll all be facing it together.

It makes beautiful red, pink, and orange skies.  Beautiful surreal looking pinkish clouds.

Sky 3

Sky 4

Sky 2

It affects the oxygen levels in the water. . . and related to the massive fish deaths.

Where it’s coming from, affects our electromagnetic field . . . and the bird deaths.  Birds have metal material in their brains, that is affected by the electromagnetic field . . . as do mammals . . . including humans.

It is affecting our sun.  Our weather, our seasons.  The weather on OTHER PLANETS in our solar system.  Earthquakes, sinkholes, volcanoes, meteors.  Electronics and electricity.  Our ability to think clearly.  Our health suffering in general.

You can see the affects of it by scanning the headlines.  Train derailments.  Airplane crashes.  Increased violence and senseless crimes. Fires.

And no.  There’s nothing we can do to stop this thing from coming.  It’s happening.

It’s a part of a larger cycle.  It’s what was being talked about in all of the old myths and legends.  It is remembered and then forgotten again.  The stories handed down over generations by Native Americans, was one of many ways that our ancestors attempted to get the information to survive long enough to let people know . . . thousands of years down the road . . . of what would be coming.

We are not the first to go through this.

Ancient texts from around the world, talk of the deluge.  They all have their different versions of why . . . but they are all speaking of the same event(s).

People, just like us . . . who are just trying to get through each day . . . and maybe find a little bit of happiness . . . went through this thousands of years ago.  It wasn’t just people in robes who were less intelligent than us, it was people just like us.  And they weren’t being sinful and evil in the way that they’ve been portrayed in some versions of the story . . . they were suffering from the effects of the precursor red dust that comes in long before the devastation actually happens.

Prophecies are describing what others have witnessed and survived from prior cycles.  The easisest way to pass on information is through storytelling, dance, & song.  For thousands of years from one incident to the next, people stop believing the stories are real because it doesn’t apply to them.  We have them quarantined in our heads as stories, and so it’s hard to make the leap or connection to real live events happening around us.  There are real, physical, and scientific reasons the things described in prophecy were happening.  So don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.

There are those who only believe in what they see in physical form.  So, the signs are showing in physical form what is happening.  There are those who only believe in what they get intuitively or from the spiritual side of life . . . So, they know what signs they are looking for.  You can think of this as the rational/logical/scientific mind vs. the creative/spiritual/faith-etheric mind.

During this time, keeping these two parts within us separate . . . is a big mistake.  It causes a human being to be “closed”.

If you are all spiritual, but refuse to acknowledge that you are in a human body . . . then you will be at the mercy of its animalistic instinctive nature during times of crises, because your body WILL pick up cues in its environment and act accordingly.  This will manifest as anxiety, anti-social behavior, feeling like a victim, helpless, powerless, etc.  Quit trying to escape your body, and come down to earth and come to peace with the fact that something is happening on a physical level . . . and currently you ARE in a physical body.  Deal.with.it.  Care, nurture, and love your body that is here and scared and NEEDS you.

If you are all physical, and refuse to acknowledge the unseen and the signs that were given in religious and spiritual texts, and believe those things to be unreal or flights of fancy . . . you will be at the mercy of the fear of the unknown.  You will also respond more from an animalistic instinctive nature, rather than from conscious, clear thinking.

If you are cut off from either one, you are closed.  Some of you are closed from the waist up (ones who only believe in scientific proof), and some of you are closed from the waist down (ones who are all spiritual and are trying to escape their bodies as things get worse on the planet).

Many are a mix and conflicted.

It is important to be opened all of the way through.  The warnings and practices given in religion, wasn’t so much about being all holy, as it was trying to convey and communicate what you have to do in order to stay clear and conscious during these times.  It’s NOT about some people being good and some people being evil . . . it is about some people being open and some people being closed.

We’ve associated evil with some made up fantasy that we couldn’t possibly be.  “Oh, I don’t sacrifice babies . . . so I’m not evil.”  Wrong.  All “evil” is, is being closed up.  Being heavy and burdened with energy.  Fear, worry, resentment, etc. are heavier energies.  If you won’t open up (forgive, let go, surrender) then you HOLD ON to those heavier, darker energies and are weighed down.  If you are taking life super serious, and trivial things feel like a life or death situation. . . you are closed at some level, heavy, darker, and therefore . . . “evil”.

So be as self righteous as you want, it’s totally your call.  But if you don’t get over yourself, start opening up, and letting go of shit that is really, really not important in the greater scheme of things . . . then you are going to *literally* be in the dark.  If you can get over yourself, open up to what is actually happening . . . both in the unseen and the physical world . . . you will lighten up.

The REASON for this, is because the stuff going on with the electromagnetic field, and the red dust (iron oxide, btw . . . we’re all suffering from increasing toxicity . . . aka “ascension symptoms”) is destabilizing everything.  Everything we thought was permanent or forever, is suddenly not.  You know carbon dating?  The thing they thought was so stable that they use its half life to determine how old things are?  Yeah, guess what?  It’s NOT stable at all.  So anything based on it to date things, is actually unreliable.  Think about how many things you believe in life that is based just on that one thing.  That is, and has been happening across the scientific community for the last few years.  (Scientists are baffled!)

Because everything is destabilizing, we have to find a new center.  We can’t rely solely on our intellect/brain for understanding reality, because that is breaking up.  However, if you solely rely on intuition, you are still blocking yourself from stability.  Imagine a cylinder (at least as wide as your head) that comes in from the top of your head and goes through the whole center of your body.  This is where the major chakras line up.  *That* cylinder . . . needs to be fully opened and unblocked during this time, in order to find your center and be balanced.  The calm within the storm.

If you are closed by being either TOO spiritual or TOO physical, a twist/knot/block happens in the center flow . . . and life.sucks.for.you.  You will be at the mercy of the iron that is collecting in our bodies (especially in the brain in the amygdala which is where the rage and violence comes in and starts erupting in the populace) and subject to rage, temper tantrums, fuzzy-headedness, escapism, victimhood, helplessness, hopelessness, anxiety, fear, memory loss, etc.  You’ll continue to get sicker and sicker, and think you’re getting the flu or some weird strain of illness that’s going around.  You should take that more as a sign that you’re still closed down in some way and blocking the flow (which is our new grounding point between “heaven and earth”).

This isn’t the time for pride, defensiveness, ignorance, or arrogance.  The things that open the blocks in that cylinder going vertically through the center of our body are things like forgiveness, humbleness, lightness, humor, letting go, surrender.  But those words have been used so often that we glaze over when we hear them now, especially as things continue to escalate and get harder.

So use whatever works for YOU to become lighter and more open through your whole core.  Let go of obligations, social protocols, and things that just piss you off.  It doesn’t matter if it’s how you were raised, if everyone else is still doing it, or if others get on to you about it.  We don’t have time to help everyone around us figure it out.  Just do it, and model it, it’s the fastest way to get others to catch on.

Quit trying to save others.  We’re all big girls and boys and can deal with what happens, if we’re given no other choice.  Focus on getting yourself open, and then you will be anchored and know exactly what to do, when, where, and how.  Don’t get lost in the semantics. “Oh, but what if it’s your sister, girlfriend, or mom . . . “

No.

Get yourself centered and balanced, and then you will understand why the semantics don’t matter.  It takes discipline.  It means you have to let go and stop focusing on distractions that aren’t going to matter when shit starts going down.  Who gives a flying fuck about whether it’s the democrats or the republicans who are to blame for messing up the country/world.  The world *itself* is destabilizing.  Trying to find a person or group to blame anything on at this point is a complete.waste. of your time and energy.  And it’s only serving to weigh you down with the burden of heavier energies and blocking your center.  You are the one that will suffer for your refusal to let it go.

Despite what’s going on around you, every moment *can* be filled with Life.  You do not have any control over what is coming, but you have complete control over how you choose to greet it.

sunset

Let Me Drive!

I was out eating recently, when the most peculiar thing happened to me.  Initially, I had zero idea what had happened, only that immediately afterwards I heard myself saying to Jay,

I think I just fully came into my body.

Which was promptly followed by me giving myself a funny looking wtf? face.  {O.o}

And Jay was just looking at me nonchalantly with both eyebrows up ^ ^ saying,

Oh yeah?

And I was all,

I don’t know. {shoulder shrug}

And then went back to eating.

I went into deep contemplation about what exactly had just happened, because it was the 2nd time it had happened in a week. . . (both times involving food).

I had just been sitting there, looking at my food.  When suddenly the food seemed to . . . come into focus?  It seemed Super Real (vs. you know. . . semi-real)  The colors were so. . . vibrant and clear.  Like my eyeballs had just been upgraded to Real 3D.  I saw the butter on the Naan I had been holding in my hand, and I was so fascinated by it.  I looked down at my Butter Chicken, and it seemed like I was looking at food for the first time in my life.  It was a great big W  O  W-fest in my head and body.  I was thoroughly amazed by my food.

Not only that, but it felt like I had gone from the back seat of the car, to the front of the car and was driving.  Meaning, I felt a distinct shift from being an observer in the background of myself. . . to suddenly coming to the forefront.  I felt like I <— the Soul ME, was HERE and in body and getting to use the eyes of this body and the limbs of this body and the feelings of this body, for the first time. . . like ever!  Or at least since childhood.  Before the teenage me, booted Me out. (hehe)

It’s like I’m me. . . but the conscious part of me. . . what I think of as my Soul. . . has had to sit in the backseat of the body as an observer, until the me. . . uh. . . the physical? emotional body? me, moved out of the way to allow the Soul Me to come forward.  That’s probably as clear as mud, but oh my god is it an awesome experience.

At least the Soul Me was absolutely fascinated by it.   There was a whole bunch of “NO WAY!”, and “OMG!” going on.  Meanwhile, the smaller me was in the backseat going, “What?  What are you going on about?  What is so fascinating?”.

The food in my hand and on my plate was the most real I had ever experienced life.  I had also taken a moment to look outside, because the sun was reflecting off of the building across the street and was shining on the Naan in my hand and highlighting the butter. . . and that was just about blowing my mind.  I could NOT understand how I had gone all of my life not experiencing this awe and wonder every.single.second of my life.

How were people not jumping up and down about getting to experience all of this?!?!  How was everyone able to stay so calm?  I mean. . . oh my god!??! this is SO INCREDIBLE!!!  Being a Soul in a body is just about the coolest damned thing a soul can experience, and everyone is ACTING LIKE THEY’RE AT A FUNERAL!!!!

I have to admit, I’m pretty fond of Soul Me.  It was kind of contagious.  I had forgotten how excited I used to feel about getting to experience things in life.  And She was so damn genuinely excited and happy about just sitting there and looking at butter on Indian Bread.  I thought She was going to explode into dramatic song right there in the middle of the restaurant.  But I gave Her a “please god not right now” desperate big-eyed O.O stare.  She was merciful.  Plus, Her mouth was stuffed full with rice, bread, sauce and chicken.

But I know She’s not going to put up with being in the back seat for much longer.  Just this morning, as I waited for the Crosswalk to change on my daily Chai Tea Latte run, She popped into the driver’s seat and began moving to the music I was listening to.  I didn’t feel self conscious or foolish, I only felt great.  There was a feeling of, “I wanna move to this!” as my left leg started moving on its own.

It felt so good to allow that impulse, that on the return walk, I didn’t even try to hide it.

Enjoying the moment.

Sitting. The new walking.