From thousands of years ago, the RigVeda of India contains a seed and preservation of all life called Mrityunjaya, Giver of Life (death-defeating)  Rudra Mantra.

 

 

Mrityunjaya Yantra, with Pancha Bhuta (5 elements)

 

 

This sacred Golden pentagram was later discovered by the Greeks and various other cultures and subcultures as the basis for all elements and the eternal descent of all life. This 5-pointed star also corresponds with the human body, the 5 electricities, the 5 koshas, and many other sacred fives. In the Golden Sequence, 1 1 2 3 are the Trinity and  5 is the result of their synthesis.

722 x 5 =25920 = length of The Great Year/Platonic Year: one cycle of Earth/Sirius orbit

A human being takes 25920 breaths daily.

 

108, the sacred number that is the most potent  number of chants of a mantra and the number of beads on a mala.

108 + 36 = 144, and 144 is the 12th number in the Golden sequence. Ancient India utilised 144 as a unit of time, which also corresponds to the 144 spectrum of colours. 108 x 5 + 36 x 5 + 72 x 10= 1440, the number of minutes in a 24-hr day.

The ratio between each line in the pentagram is Phi.

 

The Mrityunjaya Mantra, in the RigVeda, is based upon this seed of life and features the Urvaruka, a cucumber that was observed to have its seeds arranged in the Golden Ratio. When it is ripe, it falls from the vine and bursts forth its seeds in the potent Divine Golden pattern, the symbol of immortality. This was written long before it became understood by Pingala who discovered the Golden Sequence that much later became known as the Fibonacci sequence. Urvaruka, known as “the fruit of the above.”

The seed holds all the information for the entire life cycle of the plant. The seed is the source of life, the microcosm of the macrocosm for the plant, and beyond.

 

The basic meaning of this mantra, is to the tryambakam (Trinity), the Three-Eyed One (correlating with the 3 Gunas positive/negative/neutralising) Rudra, Avatar of Lord Shiva, from the Nectar of your Essence may I be liberated from bondage of deaths, just as this cucumber is not encumbered by the vine, to be immortal as the cucumber dispersing its seeds.

 

Tradiitionally for thousands of years, anyone reciting this mantra 108 times renders the most potent transmission of its blessings.

 

 

Another way in which this manifested is in the Kaalamukha Yantra. Kaala, meaning time = death, from where the Goddess Kali, consort of Shiva, originated and why she is associated with death. The one who also, by way of force creates karma for remaining stuck in the time matrix of rebirths.

 

1860 Bengal Goddess Kali dancing on consort Lord Shiva

 

A practice amongst the Kaalamukha sect has been to create this yantra on a large plot of land. They begin with the pentagram at midnight on a new moon and chant the Mrityunjaya Mantra 108 times.

After 4.5 days, at noon they will enclose it with the next layer creating the pentagon.

 

After 4.5 days add another layer and so on for 45 days to fully create the Kaala Mrityunjaya Yantra. The fractal of a pentagon is 1.6 dimensional.

 

 

 

4.5 days = 108 hours

45 days = 1080 hours

There are 10800 stanzas in the RigVeda.

10800 centimeters = 108 meters

the Rig Veda has 432,000 syllables, correlating with Ancient Babylonia

This devotional act of creating this mandala in the patterns of the core essence of the Divine Code within a measure of time renders the depths of its rhythm as it is sewn into the fabric of the being. It reveals time as that which is changing, has a finite beginning and an end; whereas, That which is Self cannot be changed, is not born and does not die. Permeating impermanence, immortality shines forth. The unchanging expressing the changing in a fractal formation, the shape itself and the quality of numbers by way of the Law of Resonance, accessing the Cosmos and All That Is.

What does it mean to live outside of time?

When I was three years old I was completely aware of being a Spirit dropping into a body for the human experience. I recall seeing very clearly that all experience, within the entire embodiment as this incarnated one, would pass through and That I Am That I Am remains.  The Grand Illusion, Maya, was clearly seen. Throughout life, this has served me incredibly, as I have not gotten entangled nor misidentified with what was not the I Am Presence as all circumstances occurred. Most say “I am going through” this or that circumstance, whereas I have always seen it as passing through as I observed. I am not going through anything, it passes through Me.

Whether looking to Brahmayana, The Bible, Ancient Egpytians, or the Pythagoreans, the observations documented made a clear distinction between two selves: (1.) temporal/existential self, and (2.) Spirit/Transcendental Self.  The clearest definition of trauma I’ve heard is that it is the inability to be present. Being Presence whilst being present, as I see it, are the fully integrated embodiment. Any place within that gets exiled during a trauma must come to know Self in order to re-integrate.

When we are completely Spirit, the Transcendental Self, animating the body just as Light is a principle and illumination its attribute, there is no duality and therefore no victim/victimiser. I often wondered as a child how it was that I had the capacity to experience the same things or even what would be considered worse events yet did not suffer as those around me. Perspective! Even forgiveness didn’t apply to my world because there would first have to be a wrongdoer to forgive. Polarity and duality are not the same, but are often mistaken as synonymous. Divine Neutrality is mastery of self-polarisation and transcends duality. There is truly no duality, only the appearance of it.

Being equipped as a child and seeing clearly that this is all Consciousness playing out, Maya, I was not ever operating ‘inside the matrix’ of beliefs. I’ve expressed this as living ‘outside of time’ since I was a child. I recall as a teen saying “I don’t do time. It’s imprisoning.”  as I laughed heartily. From this perspective, All That Is observed as a singular Eternal Light, any lifetime is an illumination of that Light.

There is a very old saying,  “Time cooks all beings, but time is cooked by the Atman.”  Atman, the Sanskrit word for the Universal Self, the Essence. The Golden Sequence (1 1 2 3 5 8…) does not contain the number 4 because time does not exist.  Time is something that was created to exist conventionally, as a measure, but does not actually exist.  The  number four represented time in various ancient cultures.  Nature does not do time.

This entire existence so far for me has been a lifetime of experiences which defy all laws of physics which are conventionally taught as what holds things in tact on this earthly plane. Every moment appears to be completely functioning within the Universal Laws which have been observed by a few who came before.

One of the greatest benefits of the last few years 2019-2022 must be that the illusion of time is breaking down as the veil thins. Some say “seeing is believing” and I say “believing is seeing” as living beyond belief reveals. Outside of time, anything that has ever existed and shall ever exist can be accessed through Light and Illumination and is here Now.

I recently saw the quote I’ve seen countless times that was attributed to Nikola Tesla:

“If you want to find out the secrets of the Universe think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration.”

It suddenly occurred to me and I began to question: what if ‘frequency’ is not pointing at the rate of vibration that can be quantitatively measured?  Most see this as units of frequency, or Hz, that are defining the rate of vibration. What if it is referring to frequency as in how frequent in a qualitative sense of coherence or ratio over a span that is indicative of something else? Are they one and the same essentially? This consideration instantly opened my awareness to the spaces between, the intervals and ratio of frequency present in a more inter-relational way.  I wondered, what about information that could be observed within the shapes and angles? There is much to be observed between states of anything, the relationships therein, and the shapes of anything as they communicate within the unseen subtle worlds.

From this question I examined another quote that apparently has not been validated to actually have come from Tesla but gets attributed to him,

“If you only knew the magnificence of the 3, 6 and 9, then you would have the key to the Universe.”

Wherever it originated, I invited insight as I asked for clarity about this key within my Spirit from All That Is. I awoke the next morning in a deep presence of profundity that is still with me days later. It was revealed to me that it is the ratio of motion in All That Is: the centripetal and centrifugal, intrinsically visible in the shapes of 3 6 and 9, and the relationship between them: attraction and repulsion. The force of positive (3) and negative (6) of everything in existence AND the dominant (9).

WOW.

I had just been contemplating dominance as relates to harmony in my own applications of harmonising biofields/biospheres and was searching within Divine Intelligence for a better way to describe, explain or to illustrate what I’ve been experiencing and witnessing. The key!

Within this entire incarnation thus far everything has always appeared in Spirit and then in the material world, and yet it still always amazes me.

Someone discovered this 3 6 9 key in the 1800s and it was not Nikola Tesla. I was astonished to see so elaborately clearly expressed in both words and drawings what had been revealed to me intuitively.

“The relative frequency of all sympathetic streams is in the ratio 3:6:9. Those whose relative frequencies are 3:9 are mutually attractive, while those having the relation of 6:9 are mutually repellant.”

John E W Keely founded Sympathetic Vibratory Physics among many discoveries and inventions and Dr. Edgar Hollingshead, a Physicist and Inventor, also utilised 3 6 9 key for many amazing applications, including the Odic Ray.

I found a very obscure website with this information and of course some defamation of Keely and Hollingshead out on the broader internet, as is common against anything that threatens certain pointed agendas of pushers of beLIEfS.  We certainly cannot believe everything we read.

I am SO excited to explore this.

 

 

 

 

A view from where I look:

GOD IS LIGHT

What is Light?

“I consider this extremely important. Light cannot be anything else but a longitudinal disturbance in the ether, involving alternate compressions and rarefactions. In other words, light can be nothing else than a sound wave in the ether.” –Nikola Tesla

What, in existence, is not a sound wave in the ether?

Whether we view the story of Creation through the lens of ancient Egypt, India’s creator Brahma, from Hermes himself, or the Book of Genesis, we see from nothing there is a Creator, the Holy Essence. Singularity. Zero Point. The hyperboloid of the toroid, the core root of the Tree of Life. Infinity.

 

GOLDEN APPLE TOROID WHOSE SEED IS WITHIN ITSELF

 

 

We then see the elements sky and water,  the Holy Spirit,  Spiritus Sanctus, creation from water out of water, the Æther, the untamed primordial soup, the great Pool of Consciousness; All Potentiality. Formless void. Chaos. Darkness. The resting state at the Centre. Inertia. Where all vital force is regenerated.

 

Then there is vibration, sound, Light. The command “Let there be Light”  itself a sound wave in the ether, even if spoken in ancient Pali or uttered in tones of Sanskrit.  Whether observing the seven breaths of Elohim of the toroid (6 around the One), the Seven Rays of the Solar Rishi or the Kumaras at Shambhala, the 7 primary colours of the rainbow, from there extends the harmonic continuum of the 144-spectrum. 12 inside x 12 outside or 12 bands x 12 sub-bands; the visible and the invisible, the audible and the inaudible. We are able to measure the subtle energies both quantitatively and qualitatively.

Observing the exquisite in everything, might we notice:

 

Hermes tells of a creation story where the very first being is a male made of air and water who flies over water and the Earth is below the water. He sees his reflection in the water and from the earth and water his female counterpart is born.  Water, the common element between them, the entire Universe is made of male and female, the Divine Union +(centripetal/contracting) and – (centrifugal, expanding) throughout All That Is.  Where the day and night were divided. The creation story of Hermes has 7 couples as in India every being with a consort. The microcosmic model of the macrocosm; the coherence of the model which allows its regenerating quality were certainly smiled upon by William of Ockham, Ptolemy, and Aristotle.

Walter Russell, The Secret of Creation

 

As Above

So Below

 

 

SINGULARITY

Monad, the ancient Greek monas, the Supreme Being, the Absolute.  If we could see the ineffable God, might we see an Infinite Light that is both infinitely small and infinitely large, at a Zero Point, i.e. without duration, outside of time.  Eyn-Sof, un-ending.  From that Source (Absolute Principle) Light, its (attribute) illumination: a continuum of the full 144-spectrum of all tones, colors, and harmonics: All That Is. The full spectrum only made possible by infinity.  The Absolute Principle from which infinite attributes appear (centripetal) and disappear (centrifugal) on all planes.  If we were to see ourselves clearly as Self, might we see that we are functions on a continuum of All That Is, as All That Is? The One Pulse. The One Heartbeat. The One Breath breathes All That Is. 

 

THE CREATING UNIVERSE APPEARS FROM THE ONE AND DISAPPEARS INTO THE ONE – WALTER RUSSELL, THE SECRET OF LIGHT

 

 

 

ONE

Those who vibrate at the God Frequency,  fully-activated 144-spectrum Light beings in resonance as the Harmonic of One, are the vibration of the Golden Mean embodied.  Discovered by Pingala and later Fibonacci, this sequence of Divinity, the quintessential rhythmic flow of creation at its optimal efficacy.  When we become the Presence state of Zero Point, Still Point, we are able to access more than is seen within the narrow bandwidth of the visible light spectrum.  This Harmonic of One activated within us provides a clear channel,  or theurgy, as Plotinus and Iamblichus remind, that operates outside of time wherein that which is typically referred to as “mystical” or “miracle” or “siddhi”  occurs. Our Omnis (omniscience, omnipresence, omnipotence) and Clairs (clairsentience, clairaudience, clairvoyance, claircognizance) are accessible as All That Is. There are various methods by which to detect and to also to bring the Golden Harmonic of One to any biosphere/biofield by way of the Law of Resonance.  The level of coherence the quality of magnitude and octave at which it is amplified, The Source being Infinite amplitude.

 

INCOMMENSURABLE PYTHAGOREAN TRIANGLE

 

36 + 108 = 144

144 is the 12th number in the Golden Sequence

 

INFINITE DESCENT

 

 

PLATONIC SOLIDS

 

 

 

WATER IS LIFE

Water is the medium by which Consciousness itself stores a natural recapitulative memory. The Living Library. The Cosmic Akash. Even the element water is represented in the Hebrew letter Mem, also a derivative of the Egyptian hieroglyph for water. Memory is not only of past nor is it linear. It is woven into the web of all life (Indra’s Web in ancient India/Neters in Ancient Egypt), and accessed in an instant at any energetic intersection (the diamond/jewel) which are Gates or portals that by way of resonance awaken access to any Harmonic Universe of All That Is infinitely resounding in the Now. Water, the bond dipole antenna of Consciousness, molecules interact and transmit information through the signal modulation throughout the ether. Water, the Divine Harmonic of the Æther.  One language of the Law of Resonance being shape, the angles (180º / 36º / 36º) of the water molecule are fully charged in the only incommensurable geometry in the Universe with inherent relational dynamism.  Phi in the Sky. 

WATER MOLECULE INCOMMENSURABLE FULLY CHARGED BOND DIPOLE ANTENNA

 

QUALITATIVELY CLEAN WATER: HARMONY AND COHERENCE REVEALED BY EFFECT OF LIGHT SHINING THROUGH WATER

 

QUALITATIVE VS QUANTITATIVE

The greatest secret of the Pythagoreans that was silenced is the qualitative nature of the Golden Triangle, the Trinity from which all life is born, likely discovered long before Pythagoras. Harmony, the Triad.  Plato’s Republic (509d-511e) the Divided Line clearly illustrates the qualitative incommensurability of the Golden Ratio.

When we view Pingala’s sequence (1 1 2 3 5 8…) as the qualitative nature of the Golden Mean, we observe the Divine Proportion which renders beauty, harmony, and efficacy.  Sure we all love seeing ‘Fibonacci spirals’  all over our social media feeds, but what does this truly mean for us? How does it actually apply to our lives? Whether observing the way a sapling grows in the pattern that naturally maximises how sunlight and water reach each leaf, feel what is like to step into Chartres Cathedral, or experience the bliss in theurgy of being the Zero Point, there is no mistaking the quality therein. Also, both quantitatively and qualitatively, in perfect harmonised  proportion the prolific multiplicity of Phi is the quintessence of the abundant harmonised bounty that Nature renders.  It is the quintessential Ockham’s razor for all of life. We ourselves when operating in a harmonised coherence are living prayers.

“Comprehend and copy Nature.” –Viktor Schauberger

We must first accurately comprehend Nature in order to copy it. No need to be a mathematician to appreciate the patterns within this miracle.The quotient between each successive pair of numbers in the sequence approximates (Phi) 1.618, or its inverse (phi) 0.618 and each two consecutive numbers combined add to the next number in the sequence. (1+1=2 / 2+3=5 / 3+5=8…) Capital Phi is the larger value and lower case phi the smaller value.

This is the beauty of the lowest order of a universal intrinsic pattern that is so self-embedded with such a self-reflective structure that it regenerates infinitely. The formula is already created, so we get to co-create life-giving forms.

The Greek language tells a story with each word and each letter or symbol. 1 of this golden sequence is seen by the Greeks not as a number but as a Principle, the Absolute. The second 1 as its attribute.  The intrinsic and the extrinsic as in all of Creation.  Neoplatonists point at Ananke, representative of the Laws of Nature, that are necessarily so and can be no other way.  I have observed that Nature operates in systems that have informed parameters. The Universal Laws of Nature inform both Nature’s systems and its parameters. 2 and 3 in the sequence are viewed as the Agathon and the Nous in Greek, or a simplex articulation: the Good and what the Good does. Matter and Magnitude. Nous: heart/soul literally translates to ‘I spin’  as we are Divine Intelligence and spinning Light. Orbs. This also points at the shape of the soul being spherical, just as Euclid’s Elements of Platonic Solids in their various geometrical shapes spin as spheres, and Christiaan Huygens observed of light. Ánthos in Greek translates as brightness, brilliance blossoming and is also the word for Soma in Sanskrit which I see as plasma. The synthesis of Mass (2) and Magnitude (3)= 5, Being. Spheres, the appearance and disappearance; centripetal and centrifugal in all directions in a glorious simultaneity. 

This ultimately indicates that God is not micromanaging us. We are self-organised within a self-organising system.  This is so throughout the Cosmos, macrocosmically and microcosmically, We are a microcosm of the Cosmos that lives within us. Whether viewing Ptolemy’s Celestial Spheres and Kepler’s Laws in Harmony of the Spheres or going within and listening deeply, all is available. We have only to access it.

“You must look at the processes of motion in the macrocosmos and microcosmos accurately, and copy them! ” –Viktor Schauberger
When we view the Cosmos through the qualitative lens of the inherent Universal Laws of Nature, we may notice that not only are the relationships between the planets as they are interacting based upon astronomical and astrological systems, but also their shapes, their magnitude, the  hues at which they vibrate, the patterns of their rotations, all play roles in how they resonate with All That Is, transmitting information to and fro. Perhaps we are much more influenced by the planets and star systems in many ways we’ve yet to discover.  In addition to the Golden Sequence, Pingala also recorded the first known account upon discovering the binary system in The ChandahSutra. Ones and zeros. Earth is apparently binary with Sirius, the proximity of orbits ushering in the Golden Age.  Venus, the planet of Harmony, rotates in the pattern of the Golden Ratio.
PLANET OF HARMONY ROTATES AT THE GOLDEN RATIO

 

Qualitative and Quantitative are two sides of the same coin, operating as the right brain and the left brain. Quanta, plural of the word quantum, a unit of measurement. That which is quantized is limited or restricted to a set of rules, bound to specific values.  A great example is when water is quantitatively pure, there is a list of what is being tested (specific values) and we can see the results in black and white, but that would not tell us anything of the qualitative state of the water. The quality of the subtle state of the water will give us an entirely different set of information, and we can actually measure its quality as pertains to the harmony of the water.  What difference does this make for us? Whatever is being measured of water is typically not chosen by us, and so when we take a quantitatively pure water as pure enough to drink, what might we be ingesting in the memory it holds?  How much vital life force does it really have? Seeing the intrinsic qualitative nature of the immeasurable infinite in every living being throughout the Cosmos, including us,  how shall we optimise the quality of our own living system and the quality of all living systems that support our biosphere/biofield?  Harmony.  We have the formula to bring form to function since the beginning of Creation, and we as creators are well-equipped.

What is Plasma really? Is this a new discovery, or as with most things under the sun, is it a new name given something that has been here all along, discovered long ago?

From visions revealed, I have been shown in Spirit, Plasma and Indra’s Net are one and the same.

In the ancient Vedas is Soma: the Divine elixir of life, Ananda, Bliss. The transcendental light of greater realms of Wisdom. Also believed to later be known from various cultures as alchemical rituals, i.e. Water of Life, Philosopher’s Stone, and the Elixir of Immortality. Referred to in the Vedas as residing in plants, in water, and within each human being as the core Essence of Divinity.

Soma, unless experienced directly, shall be misinterpreted, as happens when viewed from a focal point of distortion and merely conceptualized by mind rather than an integrated embodiment. In other words, seen from 3D perspective that which is experienced in another dimension would define it very differently, as has been the case of Soma. Some have insisted it to be an actual drink as a human being would sip, and even made to mean plant medicine in the minds of many. Imagine the state of Consciousness one would have to be in to match the frequency that, as a God, might enjoy the great elixir. This is not an actual drink in the way that a human being would see it. This is a drink of the Gods. What might that mean?

I see Soma as Plasma.

 
Drinking it as a God looks like basking in the Divinity, accessing All That Is via the Light codes therein. We as Spirit having the human experience can access the Light codes from and into our own luminosity. Plasma renders access to All That Is. The language of the Light is experienced in vibrational frequencies, water an accelerating conduit. This essence that is in every living organism is activated and encoded.

Soma, referred to as the ‘nectar of the Gods’ in the Vedas was said to be in the mountains of the heavens and was introduced by Indra. As Plasma intermingles with a magnetic field of any living organism a coherence is formed, just as Indra’s Net, as seen in displays of a magnet under a ferrocell.

This is a blueprint of sorts that stores information, the jeweled net at which intersection points (the jewels) are matching frequencies of the greater web of Life, throughout all of the Ages. These intersections expressed in what we know as synchronicity. This is where archetypal signatures overlap and stories (stored therein) are recapitulated as All is informed by itself.

Plasma informs, calibrates, energizes and amplifies.

In the Rig Veda, Soma is mentioned as existing in all plants (RV X.97.7) Many different types of Soma are also indicated. Water itself is a kind of Soma, particularly those of the Himalayas. (RV VII.49.4). For every form of Agni or Fire, there is also a form of Soma according to Vedic thought. There are Somas throughout the Universe, all informing multidimensionally.

Just as Water is Life: Consciousness itself in whatever form, might we also see Light in whatever form as the great alchemist, and various expressions of the One?

Hiking in nature, where insights drop in, a wonder and delight as no other. She set her intentions, directing the free energy toward any insights Nature would be so generous to reveal regarding time. Having heard recently more than ever so much chatter about time and timelines, she was intent upon gaining any new insights and clarity. She herself always described her existence as living outside of time. As an embodied being who never identified as the human vessel, All exists simultaneously in the Great Now. That which is not born and does not die is not of time. Having never seen lifetimes and timelines as linear, Divine Intelligence always available to access any information Now.

Aether and the sky always spoke to her, as each molecule of water in whatever form contain information as Consciousness itself. Water is Life, a penetrable medium for the Wisdom of the Ages. She walked along the path, activating the molecules of water within her body: her antenna. She visualized each molecule illuminated just as light shining onto a group of bubbles creating the full spectrum of color: frequency calibration. Tuning in like this rendered clear holographic visions. Nature whispered stories as if holograms appeared playing out an immersive film before her eyes. Electrified, she beamed from her heart in Gratitude welcoming and greeting the information, amplifying the electricity coursing through her veins matching the Plasma and creating a coherent field within the electromagnetism of her being.

Each molecule in the sky appeared as countless rainbow bubbles and she heard the words Phi in the sky as vivid images of the Pythagorean trinity and the holographic geometry of the sphere appeared. Contemplating these ethereal aqueducts and calibrating in harmony with each of the polar molecules making up the clouds above she vibrated at the perfect Harmonic of One: The True Golden Ratio, grounding it into aquifers below. A fire rainbow appeared. Solar phenomena often showed up in the sky as she calibrated, activated and harmonized.

What had always appeared to be mountains suddenly came into view for the first time ever as large fingers of a massive body. Everything in view became less dense as the holographic nature of Maya revealed. Seeing this opened other worlds previously unseen to her. As though Omnipresence itself had entered, her view was instantaneously from over the shoulder of the Grand Body. She both watched and peered through his eyes, down at a circle before him: the entire Earthly plane. Bodies of water came into focus as aqua luminescent crystal beads on a mala. Pushing out each perfectly spherical bead one by one, turning time. Each bead an Aeon.

©2022

Just as the voice of the airline attendant faded into the background amid the clatter of lap belts snapping into place, Josie shouted “No fucking way!” silencing the entire cabin. Tears and mascara landed upon the top of the mask covering her quivering lips as she handed her phone to her husband. Jed, certain someone must have died or that one of their three children they’d left with the sitter had been injured, or worse, reluctantly received the phone. He was somewhat relieved yet shocked to see a tearful public announcement and apology of cancellation by the artist whose show they were on their way to see.  This was their first excursion since the pandemic had begun. Just after attending yet another funeral, they were determined to break away for the sake of their own sanity: to have any semblance of what felt like the life they’d once lived. This particular show felt extra special since they’d had tickets to the same artist who’d canceled a tour just as the world shut down two years prior.

Placing his hand on Josie’s leg, the logistics of canceling and returning home fluttered through his mind sinking down into the pit of his stomach as the plane ascended. This was the first of three flights they had to book due to the increase in cancellations. Taking the latest flights of the night made for a long day preparing to leave their children, and would get them out of a hotel early the next morning for the longest leg.

After discussing their plan to recover as much of the cost as they could, and return home after the first flight, Josie messaged the sitter then nervously scrolled through her phone anticipating other events that had transpired. As if she had not enough to process, she stared blankly at threats of nuclear war, warnings of an asteroid hitting Earth, images of protests all over the world, electromagnetic pole shift warnings, astrological predictions, tsunami warnings, alien agendas, possible timeline shifts, more food shortages, political unrest, EMF warnings from 5G rollouts, and trans humanism advertisements for a better future. Overwhelmed by the state of the world and worried about her children’s future Josie’s head fell upon Jed’s shoulder as they both drifted off, escaping the stress.

Hearing the tone indicating the plane was descending, Josie clutched Jed’s arm, smiling in the euphoria the hypnagogic state of waking from a nap can bring. The tone got louder and louder as a large bell vibrating intensely through their bodies. The lights came up as they both, jolted by a unique energy signature, opened their eyes to realize they were sitting in a large cinema. Silhouettes of two men at the head of the room vanished as the large curtains closed over the screen behind them, bringing their forms into focus.  Sounds of bodies shuffling in the seats became a collective light whisper then a louder murmur as the disoriented attendees acclimated to their surroundings.  A sign above the two men read Chicago World’s Fair 1893  acting as an anchor for consciousness landing into the sea of bodies within the room. This was the first human experiment Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla had performed that brought their electrical currents, motion pictures, and time travel all into one event. Tesla and Edison, taking turns speaking to the audience, congratulated them on participating in the greatest human experiment ever performed. They were shown by the clock on the wall that two hours had passed since they entered the room though they had traveled through lifetimes, up until the year 2022.

©2022

It wasn’t until they met fully in the astral plane that it began to all make more sense. The perspective of how massive they really are as beings of Light began to take shape as all previous distortions and contortions dissolved. In Reality as Spirit having a human experience, they connected at the eternal essence of who they truly are. They began to see time and space as golden robes enshrouding them, adorned with jewels of all the lives they’d breathed and even those yet to come as well-honed gems which held the Wisdom of the Ages.

Two souls so connected not meeting up until their fifties in this lifetime appears differently beyond the constraints bound by doing time, its imprisonment as perceived on the earthly plane.  From where they look, through the lens of relativity, fifty years is equivalent to stepping into the kitchen to grab a glass of water just before slumbering, their young bodies then entwined in sheer delight of what dreams they shall journey together.

©2021-2022

 

Okay, how about we are both women this time?  We can accomplish more through mitochondrial DNA. 

Oooh, yes, and let’s be very creative! 

They’ve done this for many lifetimes. They make agreements, set intentions for the next incarnation to meet when they’re really ready to grow. Though appearing in various forms they always meet up in the physical plane of existence to enjoy their best expressions for the expansion of Consciousness. The most opportune time typically when the evolution of collective Consciousness is undergoing bigger strides, as they are the greatest match for  expansive forward motion. They create who they’ll be individually, to each other, with intentions of making the greatest contribution to the evolution of Consciousness. Even though there is no mistaking each of their unique energetic signatures, and no one could match the resonance they feel when they meet up with each other, they still imagine and discuss how they might find each other in the next life. The recognition always astounding, nothing could impede their connection. 

 

This time let’s have our meeting feel like an epic love story. We can use that vibration to bring our ancient and cosmic energies forward to infuse whatever we co-create. 

Ah yes! Everyone resonates with a love story.

As evolution would have it, whatever forms they take, Curiosity and Wonder being multidimensional are energies that could access anyone, and available for anyone to access. As they expanded, naturally more beings were reached by them.  So even personified as humans whether they’ve co-created, procreated, or simply roamed Earth exploring in fun adventures they’ve expanded Consciousness, feeding into the unseen realms. They would sometimes sign up for many experiences before they agreed to meet up, become lovers or marry and other lifetimes they would be siblings or parent/child. 

 

Let’s get our toughest work out of the way first then see how much we can evolve and expand together exploring in joy and play! 

Yes, and travel lots! 

 

Being twin energies, as souls of the same pod, provides Curiosity and Wonder an unparalleled symbiosis. Aware that the physical realm is where Consciousness gets to see itself, they gain the most growth from the synergy and reflection they offer each other. Curiosity takes the lead in many cases, then Wonder expands them into new terrain.  When Wonder leads it is quite different from the tangible action-oriented nature of Curiosity. They work in tandem across dimensions and planes, sometimes agreeing that Curiosity incarnates first, grounding in their intentions while Wonder traverses as formless energy sending energizing frequencies from the Great Beyond. They do not compete but rather complement each other very well as they celebrate the distinctions between them. Curiosity often makes a very grounded and practical lateral movement whereas Wonder’s movement is more into the Great Expanse of possibility before bringing anything into form. The nuances in their differences keep excitement, joy, and evolution for both their growing edges as they explore together. 

 

I’m getting so excited! 

So am I! I love no matter how different we are each time our essence is still the same.

Once in a while there is a healthy and very slight rub that plays out, as a bit of friction is nice for growth. Wonder, being so vastly connected with everything can be dizzying for Curiosity to explore beyond the confines of lateral movement, sometimes resulting in a momentary assertion of will. Whereas Curiosity might operate in the illusion of coming and going, Wonder steadily encompasses everything along a vast continuum so does not operate according to demands of assertion. Curiosity occasionally sees Wonder as too nebulous, but the energizing force is undeniably pleasurable. As Wonder is happily content to ruminate in questions, not landing anywhere definitively Curiosity sometimes appears a bit limiting when meanings are made and structures formed.  Wonder is everything and encompasses all whereas Curiosity is more focused and even fixated upon specifics. This renders more questions from Wonder, expanding forms into broader-reaching innovative models they co-create more dynamically together than they ever could apart. Curiosity loves the excitement of expansion and Wonder relishes the sparks of ingenuity they co-create.

 

How about we involve as much of humanity as possible this time in whatever we co-create? 

That’s it: the greatest collaborative work of art ever created.

 

©2020-2022

A collaboration with Kira Bursky

Okay, how about we are both women this time?  We can accomplish more through mitochondrial DNA. 

Oooh, yes, and let’s be very creative! 

They’ve done this for many lifetimes. They make agreements, set intentions for the next incarnation to meet when they’re really ready to grow. Though appearing in various forms they always meet up in the physical plane of existence to enjoy their best expressions for the expansion of Consciousness. The most opportune time typically when the evolution of collective Consciousness is undergoing bigger strides, as they are the greatest match for  expansive forward motion. They create who they’ll be individually, to each other, with intentions of making the greatest contribution to the evolution of Consciousness. Even though there is no mistaking each of their unique energetic signatures, and no one could match the resonance they feel when they meet up with each other, they still imagine and discuss how they might find each other in the next life. The recognition always astounding, nothing could impede their connection. 

 

This time let’s have our meeting feel like an epic love story. We can use that vibration to bring our ancient and cosmic energies forward to infuse whatever we co-create. 

Ah yes! Everyone resonates with a love story.

As evolution would have it, whatever forms they take, Curiosity and Wonder being multidimensional are energies that could access anyone, and available for anyone to access. As they expanded, naturally more beings were reached by them.  So even personified as humans whether they’ve co-created, procreated, or simply roamed Earth exploring in fun adventures they’ve expanded Consciousness, feeding into the unseen realms. They would sometimes sign up for many experiences before they agreed to meet up, become lovers or marry and other lifetimes they would be siblings or parent/child. 

Let’s get our toughest work out of the way first then see how much we can evolve and expand together exploring in joy and play! 

Yes, and travel lots! 

 

 

Being twin energies, as souls of the same pod, provides Curiosity and Wonder an unparalleled symbiosis. Aware that the physical realm is where Consciousness gets to see itself, they gain the most growth from the synergy and reflection they offer each other. Curiosity takes the lead in many cases, then Wonder expands them into new terrain.  When Wonder leads it is quite different from the tangible action-oriented nature of Curiosity. They work in tandem across dimensions and planes, sometimes agreeing that Curiosity incarnates first, grounding in their intentions while Wonder traverses as formless energy sending energizing frequencies from the Great Beyond. They do not compete but rather complement each other very well as they celebrate the distinctions between them. Curiosity often makes a very grounded and practical lateral movement whereas Wonder’s movement is more into the Great Expanse of possibility before bringing anything into form. The nuances in their differences keep excitement, joy, and evolution for both their growing edges as they explore together.

 

I’m getting so excited! 

So am I! I love no matter how different we are each time our essence is still the same.

Once in a while there is a healthy and very slight rub that plays out, as a bit of friction is nice for growth. Wonder, being so vastly connected with everything can be dizzying for Curiosity to explore beyond the confines of lateral movement, sometimes resulting in a momentary assertion of will. Whereas Curiosity might operate in the illusion of coming and going, Wonder steadily encompasses everything along a vast continuum so does not operate according to demands of assertion. Curiosity occasionally sees Wonder as too nebulous, but the energizing force is undeniably pleasurable. As Wonder is happily content to ruminate in questions, not landing anywhere definitively Curiosity sometimes appears a bit limiting when meanings are made and structures formed.  Wonder is everything and encompasses all whereas Curiosity is more focused and even fixated upon specifics. This renders more questions from Wonder, expanding forms into broader-reaching innovative models they co-create more dynamically together than they ever could apart. Curiosity loves the excitement of expansion and Wonder relishes the sparks of ingenuity they co-create.

How about we involve as much of humanity as possible this time in whatever we co-create? 

That’s it: the greatest collaborative work of art ever created.

 

©2020-2022

 

Show me your deepest woe and I shall taste it fully, 

writhing in your pain as I listen to the moans

within your weary cells. Sucking, gently cradling

between my tongue and palate; 

layers beneath delicate, succulent

I shall savor what has shaped you. 

Bring your fears and deliver them as tightly sealed

packages, loosening then opening

within my tender embrace.

As jewels still hot from your skin,

unclasp your trembling heart; 

thrash wildly toward me, ignited and ravenous.

©2020-2022

After a series of tests, the Neurologist looked into her eyes as if Archangel Michael had entered his body and asked with an earnest sincerity “What are you doing here?” The words rang through her body as an ancient gong deep in the Himalayas that had absorbed all of the wisdom of the ages now vibrating a resonance within her of what she knew to be true. Just for this moment she felt in the company of someone who really got her, a rare occurrence.  In her twenty four years of life she’d never known anyone who saw the world as she did, as evidenced in responses to stories as mundane as brushing teeth to her being labeled everything from miraculous to scary by others. 

Going to a neurologist had been made mandatory by the manager at her workplace when the left side of her body had gone numb and she’d lost all strength in her left arm. It was protocol for their liability that she be medically examined since she was at work when it happened. The neurologist visit was a follow up after having a CT scan at the hospital, also something she never would have done on her own. From her perspective this was an energy imbalance, as everything is energy. She saw these symptoms as something wanting to be released or transmuted, and trusted that the way would be revealed from within herself and the world around her. Listening and paying attention to what’s calling moment to moment was her way of approaching anything like this. Energy is energy. Denser energies required her best warrior to delve deeply into the swamp of her inner terrain and transmute as other shifts were made by simply attuning to frequencies. What is not resonant cannot live there, so would transform as she vibrated at clear frequencies. Ultimately all frequency shifts and energy transmuting, she worked along a spectrum, listening to her body and everything life presented around her to guide the medicine calling her. 

The hospital had provided a list of diagnoses. As she read through them she saw a window of opportunity. Two options revealed: she could take the words from the hospital and make them her beliefs then begin to build a world around those beliefs that would have her living a life in illness, or she could claim her wellness and receive the healing available to shift this energy imbalance. She made her choice, threw away the hospital documents, and trusted the way to wholeness would be revealed. 

A few days later she noticed that she kept seeing images flash through her mind of herself up on a mountain. The images flashed more frequently as the days passed until a moment when she felt the calling to drop everything and go right now. The timing was perfect. She glanced at her car clock. 5:48 Even though she was meeting her friends in less than half an hour when the calling was clear, she entered a world where time was suspended. She was new to the area so had no idea where to go but with the guidance of what she liked to call her internal GPS up a winding road she went. A road sign popped out at her as she passed it and she knew that was her mountain. Twenty miles later as she neared the area she noticed parhelia surrounding the sun. These prismatic rainbows had been a significant part of her life. 

Parhelia also called sundogs, prisms, halos, irisations, parhelia circles, and various arcs were a big part of her life. It was only since being in her twenties that she heard someone say not to look directly into the sun. She always had. The sun provided messages, attuned her frequencies, and so much more. Those who knew her well enough would equate these showing up in their day as her visiting them in spirit.

At the moment she approached a road to her left, the spectrum of colors became more vivid and the parhelia grew larger as if infused by the messenger nectar of Iris, the goddess of rainbows herself, was saying come here. She parked her car near a trailhead and up she climbed to a summit. No one in sight, the air was still and quiet. She took in the panoramic view allowing her body and any of the unseen forces to lead her. She stood on a rock, faced the sun and the parhelia, raised her arms up and received. The wind blew fiercely as tiny tears flew rapidly from her eyes for a timeless span. At some point the wind stopped, the parhelia vanished and she felt complete, her body completely restored.

She hiked back down the half-mile trail, drove down the twenty miles and still met her friends right on time.

©2020-2022

 

a collaboration with Kira Bursky

After a series of tests, the Neurologist looked into her eyes as if Archangel Michael had entered his body and asked with an earnest sincerity “What are you doing here?” The words rang through her body as an ancient gong deep in the Himalayas that had absorbed all of the wisdom of the ages now vibrating a resonance within her of what she knew to be true. Just for this moment she felt in the company of someone who really got her, a rare occurrence.  In her twenty four years of life she’d never known anyone who saw the world as she did, as evidenced in responses to stories as mundane as brushing teeth to her being labeled everything from miraculous to scary by others. 

Going to a neurologist had been made mandatory by the manager at her workplace when the left side of her body had gone numb and she’d lost all strength in her left arm. It was protocol for their liability that she be medically examined since she was at work when it happened. The neurologist visit was a follow up after having a CT scan at the hospital, also something she never would have done on her own. From her perspective this was an energy imbalance, as everything is energy. She saw these symptoms as something wanting to be released or transmuted, and trusted that the way would be revealed from within herself and the world around her. Listening and paying attention to what’s calling moment to moment was her way of approaching anything like this. Energy is energy. Denser energies required her best warrior to delve deeply into the swamp of her inner terrain and transmute as other shifts were made by simply attuning to frequencies. What is not resonant cannot live there, so would transform as she vibrated at clear frequencies. Ultimately all frequency shifts and energy transmuting, she worked along a spectrum, listening to her body and everything life presented around her to guide the medicine calling her.

The hospital had provided a list of diagnoses. As she read through them she saw a window of opportunity. Two options revealed: she could take the words from the hospital and make them her beliefs then begin to build a world around those beliefs that would have her living a life in illness, or she could claim her wellness and receive the healing available to shift this energy imbalance. She made her choice, threw away the hospital documents, and trusted the way to wholeness would be revealed. 

A few days later she noticed that she kept seeing images flash through her mind of herself up on a mountain. The images flashed more frequently as the days passed until a moment when she felt the calling to drop everything and go right now. The timing was perfect. She glanced at her car clock. 5:48 Even though she was meeting her friends in less than half an hour when the calling was clear, she entered a world where time was suspended. She was new to the area so had no idea where to go but with the guidance of what she liked to call her internal GPS up a winding road she went. A road sign popped out at her as she passed it and she knew that was her mountain. Twenty miles later as she neared the area she noticed parhelia surrounding the sun. These prismatic rainbows had been a significant part of her life. 

Parhelia also called sundogs, prisms, halos, irisations, parhelia circles, and various arcs were a big part of her life. It was only since being in her twenties that she heard someone say not to look directly into the sun. She always had. The sun provided messages, attuned her frequencies, and so much more. Those who knew her well enough would equate these showing up in their day as her visiting them in spirit.

At the moment she approached a road to her left, the spectrum of colors became more vivid and the parhelia grew larger as if infused by the messenger nectar of Iris, the goddess of rainbows herself, was saying come here. She parked her car near a trailhead and up she climbed to a summit. No one in sight, the air was still and quiet. She took in the panoramic view allowing her body and any of the unseen forces to lead her. She stood on a rock, faced the sun and the parhelia, raised her arms up and received. The wind blew fiercely as tiny tears flew rapidly from her eyes for a timeless span. At some point the wind stopped, the parhelia vanished and she felt complete, her body completely restored.

She hiked back down the half-mile trail, drove down the twenty miles and still met her friends right on time.

©2020-2022

Though it made little sense to buy them she grabbed the large box of Cohiba cigars and walked toward the cashier. She always trusted her intuition: that feeling in her body that carries a wisdom of guidance. As if all of the wisest grandmothers that ever existed had taken up residence there and sent signals from a lighthouse, this was her steadfast navigation system no matter how rough the seas. The box of cigars had been illuminated as if by a spotlight on a stage as she scanned the store for anything that might want to go with her.

It was her intuition, in fact, that allowed her to fearlessly travel the world and feel safe wherever she ventured. Never allowing horror stories to land as true for her, she knew that fears not faced became limitations. Her own experience so unique to her, how could it ever be determined by the way things went for others? She lived in a world where she actively moved beyond her growing edges, always propelling herself into expansion.

She was a few days into a round-trip drive from a wedding she’d attended in Tulum to remote artisan villages of Oaxaca. The terrain between the two so varied made for an enchanting journey. From frigid mountains with dense fog, to sudden torrential downpours, to enjoying the convertible in the desert all welcome exploration to her. She loved driving through Mexico and made it even more of an adventure by taking the off-beaten roads,  those roads less traveled. One route there and another to return, she drove each day from early morning until it began getting dark and then would just find the nearest lodging. 

The sun, so blistering hot, had sunburned just one of her shoulders. Though she’d never worn sunscreen her creole skin had not been sunburned in the twenty nine years of her life, so it seemed odd. As she purchased the cigars and paid for her petrol a woman noticed the blisters then yelled out Maria! with such a force it must have rung through at least a couple of layers beyond the veil. Maria ran by with a machete into the garden and returned with a piece of an aloe plant she slapped onto the blistered shoulder. In an instant, perhaps with the help of those angels that had been summoned, a black scab appeared and fell off leaving her skin pure and fresh. Sun kissed. 

She packed the cigars into the back of the Jeep and continued on her journey. Dust billowed, covering the petrol station as a curtain closing off the last scene on a stage.

As the desert sun became more intense, she pulled her silk sundress up her thighs as high as she could then carefully removed her panties and bra while still driving, placing them in the console to provide a bit more breathing room. All of a sudden, and they do seem to appear out nowhere, she was at a check point. As she slowed to a stop, eight armed men in camouflage uniforms surrounded the Jeep. 

They searched through her belongings as she stood a couple of car lengths behind the Jeep taking in the scene around her. She noticed no other vehicles in sight in either direction then looked to her right to see a building with a door slightly ajar, a dirty mattress on the floor. As her entire system registered that there was a mattress on the floor of a building, eight armed men and her out in a desert, she looked up to see that one of the men had her panties on his head, gesturing with his tongue as the other seven men cheered him on. Having done so much deep work around this type of energy she was able to be present and well-resourced. As her awareness expanded she recalled having bought the box of cigars. She grabbed the box, gifting each of them a cigar, as they thanked her and told her she could go. 

Onward she drove, with gratitude for the wisdom of her lighthouse within and for the rite of passage the checkpoint provided.

©2020-2022

 

Ostrich. How is this relevant? she wondered. As she paid attention to what energies were present when something showed up again and again it really got her attention. She’d noticed ostrich was in two separate conversations this week. When it showed up the third time in a social media post, it felt as though she’d been suddenly swept into the powerful embrace of an impassioned tango lead as Curiosity commanded her presence. 

She scanned the themes of the week and what energies had been working her inner world as she also considered those conversations, what the image was conveying, and the vibration of the medicine ostrich carries. Interpretations fluttered by as silhouettes of doves dispersing and she allowed curiosity to lead her to deeper introspection. As she opened to clearing out anything that kept her from fully embracing what life has in store, she felt a large ostrich feather sweep over her, removing an overlay of residue that invited her more deeply within. The underpinning of it all revealed: transitions. She had been evaluating transitions that had taken place in her life, checking that her heart really had proper closure. 

She instinctively grabbed her phone and in just a couple of clicks an image of the Ancient Egyptian Goddess Ma’at appeared with an ostrich feather on her head.  Introspections like this conjure energies that match what resonates then information effortlessly appears as if by magic. As though Ma’at had invited her in for the finest Egyptian tea lovingly served on an ornate silver platter, she drank in the information available. 

Ma’at: goddess of truth, justice, order, and balance was born as Ra arose from the waters of chaos. One of her main functions was to keep everything balanced. When souls transitioned they had to pass through the Hall of Judgement where Ma’at with her scales of justice would weigh the person’s heart against her ostrich feather of truth to determine whether the person’s heart was light enough to move onto to the next world. Lady of Truth.

Reading this, she felt an Egyptian call to prayer fill the innermost chambers of her heart as a deep release of tears flowed into the Nile. A pyramid made of crystal appeared at her heart center and she felt completion. 

 ©2020-2022

She closed her eyes and drifted off. 

Energy. Pure Energy. Formless potential. 

In an instant she was sailed from a vast ocean of possibility into viewing the world as a simulated reality. In its brilliant propensity for creativity humanity had invented an external device operating much like its own brain function. Computers and the internet emulated a world that served to create an overlay masking the true nature of reality so that only a few could rule the whole of humanity. This rule operated in the blind spot of the groomed and indoctrinated Mind, and humanity had become completely commodified. She looked back over time and saw that various versions of this overlay had occurred repeatedly throughout eras by various groups that ruled.

She focused in on its inception, wondering where and how this all began. A body of water appeared and from it emerged a golden egg that she also could feel in her womb. A golden embryo of light. Creator. As lightning moved along the surface of the water a great wind arose. The golden light intensified and the embryo became a vibration. Matrika Shakti: the un-understood Mother. Ancient Divine Mother of creation of sound.  The inherent powerful creative energy vibrations carried in each letter that make up words, form thoughts and language that make up our internal truth and create our perception of reality. She saw every vibration of sound, every intonation that had ever penetrated her energy body light up individually cascading into a golden glow.

Humanity had forgotten the power in the word, its impact on both input and output. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Humanity had made the Word its God. Humanity had unwittingly made itself susceptible to being ruled by words again and again throughout the ages. Indoctrination by way of words, as pictures reached deep mind. Humanity needed to disengage and reprogram itself.  What might happen if humanity realized its innate power as Creator?

She awoke just before dawn with a song moving through her body. A deep melody that had a most familiar sound yet nothing that had ever fallen upon her ears. It moved to the surface and she hummed it as she made an espresso, lit candles and set intentions for the day. She lit a candle inviting the presence of Matrika Shakti.

Sipping her espresso, the hum became a song without words. Deep intonations uttering from her in a way she’d never felt, calling her into places she’d never been. With great curiosity she wondered What is this song? and heard the words from that place within where a more evolved version of her seems to reside, it’s your soul song. These words touched an ancient place that had been patiently awaiting an impetus to awaken. 

Soul song? Okay. 

Opening with more curiosity she let the energy have its way with her as she continued alternating humming and singing until it became clear that this song was purifying her. It moved through places within her that she didn’t know existed, vibrating under the carefully chosen stones strategically placed in the pond she’d built long ago since forgotten. She felt the invitation to engage the song fully and as she did tones reverberated from within her and resounded throughout multiverses, calling forth a resonance within her soul, a calibration of her soul’s journey. Hidden koi emerged and exiled parts as flocks of geese descended, landing within her.  Her voice became more whole and full as she continued more and more loudly. Her soul song moved as an integrated part of her internal terrain, playing in the background as she began writing.

©2020-2022

 

Lying face up, her entire body aglow in a bright white light, she peered through from behind the crowd of people surrounding then became aware that she was looking down at her own body. She heard everyone talking about her. “She…” Everyone she’d ever known and she herself viewing what appeared to be her dead body. 

She came to, sitting in the driver’s seat of her car, and realized that she’d been in a wreck. Her first thought the car could catch on fire, she stepped out into the black night. She began walking to see if she could find a way to call her friend whose home she was driving to, then heard the radio blaring so she turned back to see her headlights were also still on. It somehow caught her funny, so giggling she turned the car off then looked both directions into the still darkness wondering which direction to go. Seemingly out of nowhere a car suddenly drove up, and stuttering, the driver asked if she’d like to use his phone. He was shaken by having watched the wreck, certain he had just witnessed a death. Her car had flipped and rolled several times. She, her usual calm yet energetic self responded, “Sure! Thank you. I was just going to look for some way to call my friend. She’s expecting me.” It did not even cross her mind to call 911 but he’d already made the call just after witnessing the wreck. She let her friend know she would be later, then consoled the shaken man until the paramedics, law enforcement, and fire department showed up.

Flashing lights intermittently revealed the faces of uniformed men she watched from the back seat of the police car where they told her to wait until they could drive her to her friend’s home. She had a bruise on her left tibia, glass in her pockets but not a scratch so had declined medical evaluation. As she grew concerned of her friend who must be awaiting her arrival she wondered what was taking so long. It was midnight when she set out, so she thought it must be getting really late. It was her sophomore year of college and she still had to complete an assignment before sleeping.  “Hey, Sir, do you think we could hurry this up? I really need to get to my friend’s house. I’ve got a term paper due tomorrow.”  The man looked over at her as if she had just said the most absurd thing. “I’m sorry but this may take a while. We’ve never seen anything like this. Let me show you something.” shaking his head he walked toward the edge of the road and she followed. He explained that it was baffling enough her car was no longer recognizable and no one should have survived the wreck. He showed her how her car had gone off the road at a gravel area and where her tire tracks had left markings on both sides of a huge oak tree. It appeared the car had gone completely through an oak tree, leaving the tree completely in tact. The men were so baffled, as this defied all logic and laws of physics as they knew them, so fell into the category of miracle in their minds. 

She had all kinds of things happen her entire life that others considered mystical or strange so for her this didn’t seem unusual. It aligned with all she’d known. In fact, she often felt like she was operating in an entirely different reality, always observing humanity from the outside. The same laws of nature did not apply to the two worlds.

Hours later as she got settled in to bed, she evaluated the incident from various angles and new lenses provided by those men at the scene. Through her own assessment, it appeared to her she’d left her body while at the wheel. The song playing at the time she was driving Mea Culpa by Enigma seemed to have lulled her into a trance.  What could this indicate for her own inner world?  Was the wreck trying to get her to uncover something unconscious?

She contemplated the illusion of matter, the nature of existence according to metaphysics, energy, frequencies, light, and operating outside of time as pertained to the car, the tree, and her body.

She wondered if seeing her own dead body aglow is what is called a near death experience, or if she had actually died and was now drifting in some dream state. She imagined herself in a coma in another reality, all of those voices she’d heard from people crowded around visitors at her hospital bed. She realized that it would be no different from her life thus far, as it was also a dream. A dream within a dream within a dream. Incessantly awakening, all of existence a play of Consciousness so that it could see itself. 

Is Consciousness dreaming? 

Is Consciousness in a coma? 

She closed her eyes and drifted off.

©2020-2022

A knock at the door of her hotel room sent butterflies into her heart, delicate wings creating the feeling a surprise brings. “We wanted to give you a little something.” He handed her a tray in the spirit a young boy does when in love with his mother, a send-off gift from the staff of the hotel. The feeling she had that birthday a few years before when she stood in a river as holly blue butterflies encircled her. A Thank You note, chocolate petit four, a bottle of body wash and a candle. Twelve weeks had already passed and her departure date seemed to have arrived quickly. Business in London met her at a high level of creativity that she hadn’t experienced elsewhere. Even though a flight back to the US was scheduled that day, she always left the space for life to decide what happens. The rhythm and flow of life could not be dictated by rigid scheduling. 

The world became her home since being on her own at age fourteen. Decades that seemed like lifetimes from one perspective and five minutes from another. Just as someone might drive to their favorite coffee shop across town, buy a pair of shoes at the local mall, have a dental appointment, then go to the gym.  Living outside the confines of time and space, she’d fly from America to Paris to have tea at her favorite teahouse, go to Amsterdam to buy shoes, have dental work in Costa Rica, business meetings in London, then go to a spa in Greece. Time was not relevant as inner and outer worlds reveal to the spirit of the explorer. Life to her was an exploration to expand consciousness. A day could seem a lifetime, twelve days could pass in an instant, the entire life a droplet of mist vaporized above a vast sea. She, the timeless traveler had created a life as an entrepreneur that flowed in this way, unencumbered and free to expand into what’s calling her forward toward her own evolution. The evolution of Consciousness.

As she felt into it, the butterflies had left her chest and were out ahead luring her toward more surprises and gifts. Going somewhere she’d never been is what moved her. The bottle of body wash sent the vibration of the most glorious bath in the world, the energy of a hamam at Hagia Sophia. A few hours later she was boarding a flight to Istanbul. 

Flying: the space between worlds of farewell and hello, she took it as a place to delve into the deeper worlds within herself between death and rebirth. So many deaths and rebirths happen within and around us it would be impossible to process them all, so the more fluid she was the better things could move through. The speed of flights and the surrender it calls forth allowed her to let go in a specific way. Suspended thirty thousand feet above it all gave greater perspective. 

A layover in Mecca during the Hajj Pilgrimage a delightful experience as she engaged in beautiful chats with other travelers sharing intimately of their own journey to holy cities within. Being in Saudi Arabia for the first time invited her to open in new ways with even greater curiosity than had previously lived in her.  She bought honey from the region to savor the nectar of its offering, and dates filled with honey, cardamom, and saffron. The pollinators of that land gathered information that was transmitted through this energy in the form of honey, stamen and dates. She imagined this is why beef from Limousin, France was so famous in London. Right there in the middle of the bustling crowded city people ingested the vibration of the countryside of France: rolling hills, peaceful meadows, big open skies, tranquility, stillness, quietude. What a gorgeous service those French beauties provide as they nourish the business minds of suited men.

Nothing lands in the cells quite like arriving in a new place for the first time. The visa counter attendant informed that all US citizens were banned from entering Turkey. Unbeknownst to her, this was a retaliation of a ban of Turkish citizens that had occurred when she was en route. She asked if an exception could be made and was sent the Chief Officer at another desk. The Chief Officer took her passport, flipped through it and said with authority “No Americans allowed in Turkey. We are sending you back to London.” Pointing toward a small room at the end of a long narrow corridor he instructed her to wait there until called. She looked into his kind eyes and asked him if there is any possibility that an exception could be made. “That ban sounds political. I am here to be in your beautiful city.” the holly blue butterflies fluttered into his heart. The Chief Officer apologized, and assured her the decision was made beyond his authority and that she must go back to London, pointing again to the room, away he went with her passport. She entered the small room where a security guard stood, and began telling him how she had come to enjoy the beauty of the city. He seemed to be listening intently then responded, “My English is very little.” 

He handed her a piece of chocolate, and as she took a bite he began to sing to her. As if the Prophet Muhammad had sent them from centuries prior, whirling dervishes moved through her heart, awakening ancient inner dimensions and multiplying into thousands upon thousands. They whirled new suns into form across the Universe, illuminating the hearts of boys and men across the world, throughout all timelines and dimensions. 

“Come with me.” said the security guard and led her to the Chief Officer. 

“Come with me.” said the Chief Officer and led her to the visa stand. 

As the Chief Officer instructed the attendant in Turkish she felt the flow open forward just as the Red Sea parted making a passageway through to her holy city within. Shaking his head he stamped her visa.”What is it?”she asked, smiling into his eyes. “I can’t believe he gave you the visa. The Chief Officer said if you get stopped at the passport check call on him and he will get you through.” Three times he did. 

The days that followed were as if she’d stepped into the most gorgeous Hafiz poem.  She roamed around in the sincerity of the land in love with everyone she met, bathed in the warm kindness of suns appearing as men and boys. Shop keepers would light up and say, “Oh, the lone American. I’ve heard about you.” As they invited her in for tea, they’d first tell stories of those entrapped in the political mess between governments, then open their hearts to her with the spirit of the holy city they’d always known possible. Her eyes opened to a love from suns that lifted veils throughout the Universe. The most glorious sacred bathing of Love, dripping with the honey of the Divine.

Nearly three years later, in her US-based residence these stories were moving through her awareness. What is the relevance? she wondered. She’d collected many items from around the world. The vibration they hold would speak up in moments when their energy intersected with energies currently pulsing through. So much relevance revealed.

Her journey continued from Istanbul to South Africa those years ago. The only place she’d ever been where animals run wild and humans are caged. How could the cradle of humankind hold its children in this manner? 

As she drove to an appointment curious of the relevance, a car passed with a license plate reading SEE MORE. Giggling, she opened with greater curiosity.

She had shared the cardamom, honey and saffron filled dates with a friend when in South Africa. This friend recently, a few years later, spoke of how much she loved those dates. This thought, her desire conjured a vibration that matched the pilgrimage to the holy city and as a pollinator the friend gathered and sent over a video. A beautiful muslim man spoke in the video of the lie that was told around six hundred years ago at Constantinople, his presence as the precious and sacred hamam, every word a warm bath. The group in power usurped society and had been for centuries living this out around the world at the expense of collective humanity. He told of how this power is changing hands as the Prophet Muhammad has said, that the Bosphorus will open and the Hagia Sophia will be gifted to the heart of humanity as the holy city is restored. As she saw the connections in the recapitulation of the story her own experience those years ago, it spiraled along a continuum and revealed its relevance. Despite governments asserting their rules, the Bosphorus opened and she was given the Hagia Sophia.

Arriving at an appointment, as she entered the clinic masked women moved about just as those women wearing burkas at the airport those years ago. A clinician asked her to wear a mask because the government had just introduced new rules that would make it mandatory. She declined, and asked for an exception. The mask the veil over the human mind, keeping us from seeing the simulation that was created centuries ago and is still being enforced, shrouding our holy cities within. Over the world: animals run free as humans are caged. She felt all of the Love of infinite suns across the Universe shine Light into the holy cities within every human, activating the Light from within. Veils flying off en masse, lifting as starlings in a murmuration. Consciousness seeing itself as Infinite Light.

©2020-2022

Peering over at planet Earth, she ate stars from light years away and swallowed a few planets that swirled through, digesting information from the earthly realm and informing from the Cosmos. She walked the Earth as a powerful woman with a big heart: Love incarnate. In the human body she could operate within the relativity of time as it was structured on Earth. This was important to her function in all realms across the Universe. The expansiveness of the cosmos was brought to the earthly plane, providing a greater perspective from there. 

On her way to the grocery, the traffic light turned red as Mars energy in sync appeared in the form of protestors marching through, shouting. She felt inside herself the agony of the wounded patriarch still at work in the Collective. Humans carry equally both patriarchal and matriarchal energy within. When she was born into this plane Venus and Mars were exact on the horizon, creating very balanced male and female energies within her human makeup. Mars was happy of her earthly conception and he even tried to interfere and make her in his image, as he wanted to possess her and saw this as his opportunity to finally have his way.  Her cosmic makeup was Venus at her most potent of zero degrees and Mars at the last degree. Since she had both nearly equally and had mastered Mars for many lifetimes, she could appear to be Mars when necessary so that she’d never be captured by him. 

He would see her as himself and be satisfied. She was Love after all. He hadn’t yet fully realized himself as the One. He was looking at Venus as an object outside of himself that he needed to acquire and commodify by whatever means. He was the thread that was keeping the Earth at War, his function during this Era. Humanity was so at war with Mars energy that they couldn’t even see Venus. They’d forgotten the Love available to them because Mars was so loud and demanding, they were always being overshadowed by him. In fact, Mars was operating in the blind spot of humanity. With help from other planetary cycles, humanity had been so groomed and indoctrinated they believed this was the only way. They had lost access to the resources that would show them they are powerful Creators as the One. They had learned to disown their shadow because even though they didn’t know what was in there, they knew it as the source of their pain. Venus receded so that Mars could finally see himself fully. Without her as a reflection, his energy intensified and what was in the shadow revealed. 

Love’s conception into the earthly plane was in Aquarius, her mitochondria infused by the Divine Feminine so that she could bring Collective Love toward the new cycle of Creativity, Freedom, Expansion.  At age four as she became aware and consciously went to work with the wounded masculine, she also worked with the wounded feminine. Her function as Love, the bridge between the Patriarch and the Matriarch. A pattern that had existed within this plane for centuries, the martyr mentality showed up early on when she was being sexually abused and she asked to let it happen to her in order to spare others. This was enabling the false pseudo power of Mars and feeding the separation that kept Love at a distance. The idea of disparity: that one can be impoverished and another strong and capable, the illusion of two. She had been groomed by men and lied to, what she called since a young age rape of psyche. With the help of Pluto’s cycle, Venus sent Psyche to assist her working with the energies in the Underworld of the human psyche. As they worked in tandem to assist with this Cosmic Shift, they transmuted the energy that had accumulated in the Underworld until Psyche could also fully embrace Love.

As the protestors got louder, she glanced in her rearview mirror beyond a shop owner moving out of a long-established store, 800 years back to the Magna Carta. The era of rule over Earth as property and humanity as property had led to this moment. Out her left window beyond the beggar she’d seen for years around town Jupiter and Saturn ending a 200-year cycle wherein humanity has been enslaved. The transition from one era to another as the light turned green she saw Creativity, Love and Beauty in view ahead: an abundant world with an entirely new structure that will be co-created by the Collective One.

Walking toward the flower section to buy roses in honor of the Divine within everything, words someone had said to her years prior swirled in her awareness, as if Mother Mary had whispered them to her. How could anyone not want to be near you? Being with you is like feasting on God.

She had been misunderstood her entire life, as most couldn’t make sense of Love. They could only see themselves. As these words moved through all separation dissolved.

A bouquet of two-toned roses popped out as if to say please take us home with you. The cashier searched for the barcode then called for help. Hanging up the phone she announced “they’re a gift today.” When she returned home she placed a single rose in the window for the Divine Union and the other 11 at the feet of the Divine within. She snapped a photo and shared it on social media. 

The light inside the roses mingled with the light of the sun and through that portal she became Everything. Through the Eye of Source she saw that the expression of every moment of her life, in whatever form, has all been available to reveal the Divine within.

The next day a comment on the photo from a childhood friend:

Everything…that’s what you are.

This friend moved away from their hometown when they were young. Years later after her family also relocated from their small hometown to a large city, on the first day of school she heard someone call her name from across the campus lawn. Her childhood friend astounded said, “I would recognize that walk anywhere.”  Reuniting was a profound experience on the human plane, and to Love whether lifetimes or ten years had passed, it’s as if someone just walked in to the other room for a few minutes then returned. To Love no one is ever gone. Though the friends had not been in touch except by the occasional social media comment, they’d been connected in that place where there is no time and space.  Here the friend was all of these years later appearing in the same role she may have been for lifetimes: recognizing the Divine at a time of Great Expansion.

Everything in its totality facets of the One to show her that she is the One.

An Epic Love Story.

©2020-2022

A collaboration with Kira Bursky.

Peering over at planet Earth, she ate stars from light years away and swallowed a few planets that swirled through, digesting information from the earthly realm and informing from the Cosmos. She walked the Earth as a powerful woman with a big heart: Love incarnate. In the human body she could operate within the relativity of time as it was structured on Earth. This was important to her function in all realms across the Universe. The expansiveness of the cosmos was brought to the earthly plane, providing a greater perspective from there. 

On her way to the grocery, the traffic light turned red as Mars energy in sync appeared in the form of protestors marching through, shouting. She felt inside herself the agony of the wounded patriarch still at work in the Collective. Humans carry equally both patriarchal and matriarchal energy within. When she was born into this plane Venus and Mars were exact on the horizon, creating very balanced male and female energies within her human makeup. Mars was happy of her earthly conception and he even tried to interfere and make her in his image, as he wanted to possess her and saw this as his opportunity to finally have his way.  Her cosmic makeup was Venus at her most potent of zero degrees and Mars at the last degree. Since she had both nearly equally and had mastered Mars for many lifetimes, she could appear to be Mars when necessary so that she’d never be captured by him. 

He would see her as himself and be satisfied. She was Love after all. He hadn’t yet fully realized himself as the One. He was looking at Venus as an object outside of himself that he needed to acquire and commodify by whatever means. He was the thread that was keeping the Earth at War, his function during this Era. Humanity was so at war with Mars energy that they couldn’t even see Venus. They’d forgotten the Love available to them because Mars was so loud and demanding, they were always being overshadowed by him. In fact, Mars was operating in the blind spot of humanity. With help from other planetary cycles, humanity had been so groomed and indoctrinated they believed this was the only way. They had lost access to the resources that would show them they are powerful Creators as the One. They had learned to disown their shadow because even though they didn’t know what was in there, they knew it as the source of their pain. Venus receded so that Mars could finally see himself fully. Without her as a reflection, his energy intensified and what was in the shadow revealed. 

Love’s conception into the earthly plane was in Aquarius, her mitochondria infused by the Divine Feminine so that she could bring Collective Love toward the new cycle of Creativity, Freedom, Expansion.  At age four as she became aware and consciously went to work with the wounded masculine, she also worked with the wounded feminine. Her function as Love, the bridge between the Patriarch and the Matriarch. A pattern that had existed within this plane for centuries, the martyr mentality showed up early on when she was being sexually abused and she asked to let it happen to her in order to spare others. This was enabling the false pseudo power of Mars and feeding the separation that kept Love at a distance. The idea of disparity: that one can be impoverished and another strong and capable, the illusion of two. She had been groomed by men and lied to, what she called since a young age rape of psyche. With the help of Pluto’s cycle,Venus sent Psyche to assist her working with the energies in the Underworld of the human psyche. As they worked in tandem to assist with this Cosmic Shift, they transmuted the energy that had accumulated in the Underworld until Psyche could also fully embrace Love.

As the protestors got louder, she glanced in her rearview mirror beyond a shop owner moving out of a long-established store, 800 years back to the Magna Carta. The era of rule over Earth as property and humanity as property had led to this moment. Out her left window beyond the beggar she’d seen for years around town Jupiter and Saturn ending a 200-year cycle wherein humanity has been enslaved. The transition from one era to another as the light turned green she saw Creativity, Love and Beauty in view ahead: an abundant world with an entirely new structure that will be co-created by the Collective One.

Walking toward the flower section to buy roses in honor of the Divine within everything, words someone had said to her years prior swirled in her awareness, as if Mother Mary had whispered them to her. How could anyone not want to be near you? Being with you is like feasting on God.

She had been misunderstood her entire life, as most couldn’t make sense of Love. They could only see themselves. As these words moved through all separation dissolved.

A bouquet of two-toned roses popped out as if to say please take us home with you. The cashier searched for the barcode then called for help. Hanging up the phone she announced “they’re a gift today.” When she returned home she placed a single rose in the window for the Divine Union and the other 11 at the feet of the Divine within. She snapped a photo and shared it on social media. 

The light inside the roses mingled with the light of the sun and through that portal she became Everything. Through the Eye of Source she saw that the expression of every moment of her life, in whatever form, has all been available to reveal the Divine within.

The next day a comment on the photo from a childhood friend:

Everything…that’s what you are.

This friend moved away from their hometown when they were young. Years later after her family also relocated from their small hometown to a large city, on the first day of school she heard someone call her name from across the campus lawn. Her childhood friend astounded said, “I would recognize that walk anywhere.”  Reuniting was a profound experience on the human plane, and to Love whether lifetimes or ten years had passed, it’s as if someone just walked in to the other room for a few minutes then returned. To Love no one is ever gone. Though the friends had not been in touch except by the occasional social media comment, they’d been connected in that place where there is no time and space.  Here the friend was all of these years later appearing in the same role she may have been for lifetimes: recognizing the Divine at a time of Great Expansion.

Everything in its totality facets of the One to show her that she is the One.

An Epic Love Story.

©2020-2022

Tell me about the spa love, an energy whisper faintly wafted through. She felt excitement in the vibration of the request. The words carried a new exciting energy. It was as though Curiosity itself had just touched her arm, leaned in and whispered a sweet invitation into her ear. A photo that she’d taken on that trip to the spa four years ago had entered her awareness the night before and became the focus as she moved about her home doing morning rituals, attuning to the energies, and setting intentions for the day.

What is the relevance? she wondered. She felt the energy of a friend that had been present for a few days tug at her again. A friend who for months now seemed to be transitioning out of her life. Sipping an espresso, she pulled up the photo on her phone and peered into it for any transmission of information. At the top of the photo she noticed the date it was taken was the birthday of the friend whose energy she felt present. Metaphysics. 

The photo was of an octopus she’d seen in a tree when in the jungle in Mexico. The medicine it offered then relevant now. She shared the photo on social media and noticed the word love attached to the location which brought a warm smile toward Curiosity. The next photo on her phone was an image of where two rivers meet the sea. She considered the estuary of her life and recalled a parting of energies that occurred those years ago just after she took that photo near the spa. She felt the parting of ways with her old friend and released herself into the sea of her own expansion.  

The jungle and the spa had been in her awareness off and on for the last few days. When scanning an email quickly she had seen the pertinent information pop off the screen as if it were a bold 3-dimensional font hovering in front of the computer. An astrological cycle that takes us back to four years ago. Things we worked on then are coming to fruition now. This sparked visuals of the spa where she’d been during that time. What is the relevance? she wondered, then opened with Curiosity for life to reveal.

The alert for that email had the tone that indicates read this one. Even though she never changed her tone setting, it changed on its own as there was more life in the ones that resonated in that place of what’s currently relevant. They carried a different vibration that connected with what’s most alive within her. Hearing with more than her ears is how she knew who was texting or calling without even looking. Her own internal set of ring tones told her. This came in handy in a world where there is so much activity. The tones as she heard them made the distinction between the clear channels and filtered out all of the static. 

She recalled contemplating this nuance in India long ago when she attended a friend’s satsang. As the friend spoke to hundreds of her students she watched as they lit up, yet each intonation landed in her as what she called dead words. The words became a mumble in the background as she became alive in wonder pondering how vibration of sound matches resonance, the life in words that transmits energy, curious of the subtle holographic nature of the energy of sound. Matrika Shakti 

Sometimes she would wake in the night and hear a friend who lives overseas speaking to her. She’d listen then go back to sleep. The next day she would see that an email with the exact words had been delivered at the time she was hearing them spoken as clearly as if the friend were in her bedroom. Frequencies transmitted across the ether, hertz to heart. The frequency of thoughts also sound waves sending out signals and calling in their receiver. 

She recalled how she had gotten to that spa in the first place. She sat on her sofa with two questions:

Where in the world do I want to be? 

What are the next steps for my expansion? 

Diving into the marrow of her core and then scanning the world she sent out the two questions and allowed the energy to do its magic. The warmth of the sun enveloped her as palm trees appeared first then the jungle surrounded. An infinity pool stretched out above the sea that splashed onto the base of a mountain. Where is this? she wondered then involuntarily grabbed her laptop and began typing as if some other force was in motion. An image popped up that matched exactly the vision that had surrounded her. As she clicked on the image the website appeared with the words a place imagined then found. In every photo she felt a resonance as if she herself had created the entire place. It had a similar vibration to her own vacation rental business.

The next afternoon she was there, in Mexico. She had just recently sent out a wish to overcome motion sickness that had been with her since she was a child. It felt like a limitation that made no sense in a world where we are much more fluid beings than we realize. She may not have before gone to a place that was only accessible by boat in order to avoid having to contend with motion sickness, and that kind of decision making was just not her style. As the boat moved with the waves, so did she. She relaxed into the motion and became one with it, imagining herself as a buoy at first then immersing herself, becoming the water. She realized the root of the motion sickness was in her resistance to the motion. Expansion.

She roamed around the jungle feeling her DNA in the rocks, as if she’d been present when the earth formed that place. She imagined genomes speak their own language and transmit energy to and from all of life interacting. She felt Creativity awakening Gaia, the Divine Feminine, within her as she melded with the world around her. She’d traveled the world for many years mingling with the earth, the elements, the culture, gathering and emitting information. As she journeyed through the jungle she had visions of the project she’d been creating: a place where others could meet in creativity and experience the world in this way. As she overlooked the two rivers meeting the sea she felt information transmit into her for how this vision would come to be. Receiving without thought or interpretation, her genomes mingled with the flow of the rivers and vastness of the sea. Creativity itself an energy she saw as a force of which we are stewards. 

Nearly three years later she was asked to mentor a filmmaker who then became the first creator in the new venture: Vibe. As they walked in Nature that fated day the filmmaker asked questions about business practices. As she described her own creative process, the filmmaker very excitedly expressed that everything she was hearing sounded like a book she was reading. “So similar. You could have written it!”  Though she hadn’t read it herself, she recalled having heard the title of that book in a business meeting in London just after her time at the spa and jungle in Mexico. Think and Grow Rich.  

She loved noticing these connections that are called synchronicities. They appeared as a network of intersecting energy, the network that makes up the entire Universe. We catch what’s relevant when and where needed as we pay attention in the subtle worlds. 

Finishing up her espresso, a text message popped in from the filmmaker who now had just completed her yearlong residency at Vibe, sharing an article that had just been published about the making of her installation Considerations of Infinity.  In the article, the sentence: “My projectors are whispering to me ‘what’s next?’” 

©2020-2022

Who will be my love?  The words spiraled up and out into the night sky as she drifted into a slumber.  She woke with her own name resounding as the answer to her question. She felt the Universe was laughing at her.  This question had come to her after she’d felt the palpable presence, the spirit of someone in her home. The connection felt deeply intimate, and she imagined someone across the world beaming out vibes that their soulmate would find them.  She contemplated how there is always only One, how this physical realm is at play for Consciousness to see itself, and then wondered what it would be like to meet her match along the spiraling continuum. 

A few years later this had become a distant star in that night sky, long burned out of her attention.  As she placed a straw in her smoothie she noticed clouds reflected in it. 

clouds in my smoothie

you’re so vain

I bet you think this song is about you

Giggling, she snapped a photo and had a flash to that star in the night sky when it was still living inside her as a question. This instantly brought her attention deeply inside and simultaneously heightened her awareness to how any information might be reflected in the physical world around her.  She scanned the bustling café and ramped up her curiosity.

As she waited in the queue for the loo to free up, she chatted with a man she’d met and had seen around town throughout the many years they’d both lived there.  He was an acquaintance and spoke of how strong he’d always seen her, confessing that he’d leaned on her for emotional support in times of need: that she was one of the spirits he called on from the ether.  As they caught up, she explained the knee brace on her left leg was due to a wreck that injured her. Being immobilized had caused her to put on a bit of extra weight.  He looked her up and down and said, “You know you’ll never be small.”  A messenger.

These words hit in that place deep within her that rang the bell for all of the young places inside her to grab their belongings off their desks and go to the next classroom. They were now busy at work processing through all of the limiting beliefs and thoughts that had been programmed into their little beings. Sorting the events that had occurred, the stories they’d been told, how they’d taken projections from others in as their own. The key to her losing the weight had been revealed. 

As a child her playmates’ parents would lean on her for advice. They left all of their worries at her little feet. As she entered the ladies room she felt layers of energy on her body that needed to be transmuted. She considered how empaths need more tools so they don’t carry the weight of the world without transforming the energy, that she could find some way to work with it. She had met with shamans multiple times to have psychopomps performed. They said that she carried so much Light that beings gathered around her on several planes. She had assisted many souls crossing over from the middle world. Images of large ancient mama goddess statues and paintings she’d seen flooded her vision. She replaced them with slender, sexy  images of her future self as she viewed her body in the mirror.

She recalled how she’d towered over even her teachers by age eleven and had developed a deep-seated idea that she was too big. She noticed that she still currently felt alienated by her big energy. She wanted to learn how to process and release faster. The wreck had also challenged dynamics in worlds that had been built around her being seen by everyone as so strong all the time. She felt the invitation to better receive being supported. She imagined how being supported would allow her to let go of things she held onto and this was part of the gift in having had the wreck. She knew that it was no accident that the wreck happened on the same day she received notice of not being paid for work she’d done after pouring herself into a project that was the promise to help her avoid bankruptcy. The same day her mother was given a prognosis. She wanted to spiral beyond this theme that cycled and recapitulated throughout her life, and ascend to new heights. 

As she stopped to say a more polite goodbye to the messenger, she noticed a woman sitting next to him had a laptop cover like hers. It was unusual since she’d bought it at a Peruvian market when traveling abroad. She commented on it, then noticed they had the same water bottle and the same notebook. She introduced herself and they had the same name. Her shooting star. 

Deep intimacy, passionate lovemaking, and great awakenings ensued after getting to know each other over the following months that seemed like lifetimes. They discovered they had similar experiences throughout their lives that gave them the gift of offering an unrivaled compassionate understanding. This brought her energy more down to earth and the star was able to grow brighter. 

She wrapped her long arms around the star as she wept. When she closed her eyes, her arms became limbs, casting shadows on crowds of people below. She felt a delicate lightness in her  leaves as they danced with the wind. The skin on her face became the bark of the tree.  The weeping grew more intense as the star felt held in new places. Rocked in a gentle sway, the creaking of the limbs echoed the sound of a mother’s rocking chair. She felt swaddled for the first time. People streamed in at the base of her majestic trunk by the thousands over what appeared to be long spans of time. She felt the energy in the burdens they left at her trunk transmute and roll down her bark as sap while others dispelled through her leaves, carried on the winds to other lands. Her roots vibrated toward the core of the earth. She felt herself as the spirit of the tree personified and embodied: a long golden robe adorned with gemstones appeared on her body. Queen of the Jungle. The star thanked her as she wiped the tears gracefully from her face, as if she were touching the sap of the sacred tree. “Do you want to know what tree you were?” The star told her all about the Ana Caspi of Peru, how hundreds of thousands of people had gone to her for healing over centuries, how breaking up stuck energy was the gift she offered for all who came to her. The star had gone to Peru for many years for ayahuasca ceremonies.

Sensitive that she was, she could feel the star’s Peruvian shaman in what she considered to be her energy field. In trying to maintain autonomy, over pillow talk one night they spoke of how they could navigate this since she herself was not interested in taking ayahuasca. The moment she asserted that, she began vomiting profusely. Ayahuasca had taken her. As she returned to her pillow the hand that touched her back was no longer the star but the paw of a black panther. A small medicine woman who appeared to be the spirit of Ayahuasca showed up and laughed and laughed at her. The next day she noticed a small carved black panther on the mantle, a gift from the Peruvian shaman to the star. She wondered about the connection with the shaman and what might come of it. She had to laugh at her quest for autonomy. One.

That fateful morning she got the call: her mother asked for her to come to her home.  She knew in that place within her that had never been accessed quite in this way, and so began the journey to see her mother through to her passing. She had been present at many deaths of mothers, including her mother’s mother, but never to her own mother’s passing. The star was at an ayahuasca retreat during the passing which supported the entire experience. The star had been sent to guide her forward, providing a connection to the shaman who worked with the energies of transformation. Months later her grandmother told her this in a shamanic breath work session. Shortly after her mother’s passing, the star made her exit because the energy was just all too big. She took note of this in that place within where her own middle earth resided, where she sent patterns on their way to crossover to the Light. Though painful, she was used to this, as her support usually came from the other planes and realms beyond the physical. She had not experienced this support in the physical plane, except from her mother and grandmother.  She accepted the cycles of life: that death and grief were essential for rebirth. She churned in the density of grief, in the illusion that anything ever actually leaves.

Seven years later on the anniversary of her mother’s passing she sent a friend a photo of herself at a business meeting in London holding a book entitled Play Bigger. The energy of this book did its magic without her participation. As a child in school, she would hold a book in her hands and just get it, then write an A+ essay without reading a word. The friend texted back a story about entrepreneurs taking ayahuasca to expand. She wondered if one of those entrepreneurs had been in Peru with the Shaman or at the Ana Caspi tree, on their own journey to expansion, as everything is connected. A shamanic entrepreneur herself, she resonated deeply with an interview linked to the story. As shamans gathered at deaths, they also gathered at births, and she was about to launch a product into the world. 

The inspiration to play bigger called for more of herself to be present. Accepting the nudge from Ayahuasca, she went from London to a Greek island to let go, to purge any remaining internal obstacles that might restrict her expansion.  Places around the world offered useful energies, vibrations, information that assisted in shifting her DNA. Letting go continued for the months that followed, even after she returned home to the U.S. Letting go, surrendering completely to the oneness of all, as Ayahuasca had taught her, revealed the way forward. Oh, the dichotomy that the smaller she is, the bigger she can be.  As the space cleared and opened a vision greater than she had imagined revealed itself. A massive conception facilitated by the convergence of shamans forming a Vesica Piscis, the foundation of the Seed of Life. Mothers appeared from many timelines to inform the mitochondria of this creation. Gaia.  Energy coming into this plane from nebula light years away perhaps.  The energy living her as she is being breathed. 

All of her personal experiences throughout this lifetime appeared as a double helix. All experience on the planet, all of life throughout the ages, all that exists beyond, strand after strand appeared. One.

©2020-2022

Walking toward her favorite restaurant musing in wonder of what kind of experience might await her, a gentle breeze nuzzled her cheeks. It seemed to carry in it the visual scene that suddenly appeared. As though transported into the scene, she felt herself sitting with a dear familiar friend to her right. She felt the energy of the exchange, the ease and joy in their conversation, the stimulation of their intellectual insights, the sensual pleasures they shared in each morsel that melted away the world around them. The kind of timeless moment where the entire world disappears and only the moment exists.

The mâitre d’ had grown accustom to her spontaneity. Even though it did not fit well into his organized system he always greeted her as a grandfather operating within the same dilemma. Since the place was packed she was seated in her favorite area of the restaurant. The Brits were so uncomfortable with the concept of dining out solo that they’d created a way to have no one sit alone. As her elbow touched the man’s left arm she was infused with a warm sensation as if her cells had just been given a bath in the most beautiful hamam in Istanbul, all tension rising from her body expelled by the wings of those birds circling above. 

She took his North American accent as the segue into asking what brought him to London: an artist in residence from Toronto. No matter how many times synchronicities occurred she was amazed every time that she noticed and actually caught it, as she imagined there must be so many missed given metaphysics and the subtle nature of existence. It felt to her like she was awake within the dream for at least just a moment. Lucid dreaming.

“I just walked here from a meeting at a building I intend to convert into artist residencies.” There they were: immersed in the world that was created by two planets meeting here and now within the vast continuum. The gravity holding the world around them dissolved in the space between the vibrations of sound and flavors mingling on their tongues then vanished as if they’d transcended a black hole. Immersion into the scene that gentle breeze had whispered into existence. She had after all just asked her mom for a birthday gift. Now that her mother was no longer in the human experience she was even more a part of the magic in the unseen realms. 

On her walk to the hotel, she ruminated on how familiar the man felt to her in that place inside her that gets called soul. He had said the last time he was in London was in the late 1970s. He was a teenager backpacking through Europe and had an impulse to go to London where he’d met a beautiful girl. Albeit brief, since he was only there for one night, he told how it felt fated and of how he’d wished he had it to do all over again when he was more mature. Could this dinner tonight be his wish fulfilled? she wondered.

He had mentioned he was a photographer but hadn’t spoken of his work in any depth. With each step her imagination entertained aspects of his personality she’d noticed.  Expressed through various mediums they filled each of the artist residencies in the building she’d viewed. Creating her vision, he became the vehicle for summoning the energies that would bring this concept into form. Her muse. 

Upon entering the hotel room she grabbed her laptop and felt the urge to do a search for his name in Toronto. She never did that. Besides it feeling like an infringement on someone’s privacy, she relied on her own intuition. She felt that doing such things dumbed her down from accessing information available by other internal means.  Her preference was to imagine within the mystery rather than see what his finished work actually was.

As she basked in birthday messages from friends, the nudge got stronger until she realized it was her mother insisting she look him up online.  She added Toronto photographer to his name and clicked on images. A photo of him popped up immediately. It was a black and white photo of him standing in the bleachers at a ball game, camera in hand. The caption under the photo read that he was at the opening game of the Blue Jays against the White Sox enjoying his new hobby as a photographer. The title before his name indicated that he was a dignitary. She then noticed the photograph was in a newspaper dated 1977. How is this possible? she wondered. That is definitely the man she had dinner with tonight…42 years later. A time traveler. 

Had he held a dream of taking photos in London someday? The entire world and all of existence appeared as compilation of wishes manifested into form. 

©2020-2022

“Two cappuccinos please.” The barista detected a German accent. When she was 8 years old living in a rural town in the South, a girl had moved from Germany into her school district. Listening to her classmate speak that first day instantly expanded her world and gave her a massive insight into human conditioning. 

The two women returned that afternoon and the barista asked “Same?” Surprised she’d remembered their order and somehow delighted she’d used the word same, they returned to the café daily for a week. On about the third day the barista overheard them talking about her from across the room. She had a way of hearing conversations from far away and also understood the language beyond words. As she passed by their table she commented on what they’d said.

“You speak German?!” 

“No, but I understood you.” 

They were shocked that she’d heard them at all, for it seemed impossible from all the way across the room. That she’d understood them in a language she didn’t speak really got their attention. As they chatted, the women shared that they were in town searching for land to build an ashram for their teacher. “What’s an ashram?” asked the barista, forever curious to learn a new term and eager to explore. They filled her in on many things about spirituality, enlightenment, gurus and such. These were all new concepts to the barista. She’d always relied on her own intuition. All of life was her guru and she’d experienced everything available from within herself.

They became fast friends and months later discovered they’d both be in India at the same time. Traveling was essential for her and she’d designed a life to include it. 

Feeling an airplane descend as announcements were made in the native tongue of a foreign land below provided an unmatched excitement. She noticed her cells lit up, ready for adventure. She felt at home wherever she was in the world, her home nested deeply within her. The New Delhi airport held a scent never forgotten. It transported her to places both known and unknown. Familiar scents connect across a vast array of timelines future and past, into the great Now. For her, memory was not linear. Timelines converged and expanded in a single moment, each lifetime seen to her as a glint within a vast pool of Consciousness.  All experience passing through, she That which remains. 

Greeted by a full moon upon arriving in India for the first time, she wondered how many moons she’d witnessed there before and after she existed. Beyond a colorful sea of flowing saris, the taxi driver held a sign with her name as arranged by her new German friend who insisted upon it. The German woman had been to India every year for many years and had figured out many things. For the past few months the barista had received email after email of how the village was sure to fill up during the busy season and a Guest House must be booked in advance. Each time, the barista politely declined, “I don’t travel that way, but thank you.” This did not stop the stream of emails insisting that a room be booked ahead of time. Though the barista respected her friend’s way of seeing the world, life to her was an unpredictable, magical exploration that she would not weigh down with any plans. The barista lived in a world where everything conspired to meet the resonance that lives within her. Energy was its own force that moved in realms unseen. She observed with wonder and curiosity, perpetually expanding as she rested in that still place within.

Children swarmed around the taxi as it rolled slowly forward and away from the airport, hands grabbing at the windows, faces teeming with despair. Their cheeks glistened in the moonlight. 

Sleeping for most of the seven hour drive, she delighted in the timing of waking just at the moment they passed the Taj Mahal.  She heard the driver say faintly, “nearly half way Madame.” As if an immersive film had suddenly surrounded the taxi, It became apparent she was viewing scenes from WWII and within a moment the driver said “these taxis were used as medical ambulances during WWII.” She’d had recurring dreams for years of being a nurse during war times. Dehydrated from the long flight, she asked silently from within for a shot of electrolytes and felt a sensation of nectar filling her veins: her Subtle Holographic IV, as she liked to call it.

The bumpy road shook her awake as a loving mother might gently push and pull a child’s body from side to side. Mantras echoed through the narrow streets, a trail of dust aglow with the rising sun lifted behind them. Moving his head from side to side, the driver softly assured, “Nearly there, Madame.” Instead of a few hours passing, it seemed she’d just closed her eyes. She loved how the relevance of time changed so drastically during sleep.  

The German friend greeted her at the edge of the pedestrian bridge that led over a river to the village. “There are no rooms. I have been searching and everything is full. I told you that you should have booked ahead.” The barista smiled and said “It’s okay. I don’t travel that way.” Right in that moment a man came running across the bridge, “Madame! Madame! I have a room for you! A swami has been kicked out of an ashram, so the room is yours Madame.”

The room had a large balcony overlooking the river and was the only room in the village with a western toilet and a hot running shower. Others were equipped with bucket baths made of stovetop-heated water and squat toilets. She made an offering: her room would be open to anyone in the village who wanted to use the hot running shower during her stay there.

After freshening up a bit, the barista met her German friends and their guru at a café for a welcome meal. “Same?” asked the waiter as he  took orders from the three familiar women. The aroma of chai wafted through as resounding mantras being chanted throughout the village awakened deep chords within her. She noticed the sunlight sparkling on the jade waters below the bridge now bustling with people and monkeys swinging on the railings. “Ganga” she heard from that place  within her that provides such messages. “Ganga? What is Ganga?” she wondered silently, internally. The river came to life and appeared to her as a goddess, the sparkles of light sequins on her dress. Rocks lining the riverbed became masses of worshippers that appeared to span over centuries. The waiter shooed a monkey away from the table. “The river is named Ganga. She is personified and worshipped as a goddess.” the guru informed. 

©2020-2022

“I’m getting out here. Do you want to come with me?” A sheepish look she’d not before seen in his face appeared as he slid his body across the leather seat away from her, “I can’t do it. I have no doubt you can, but I don’t think I’d make it.” Grabbing the front seat she pulled herself closer to her friend who was driving, “How far is your house from here?”  Her friend’s eyes sharpened as she threw a piercing look into the rearview mirror. With a huff she shook her head in disapproval. After all she’d just told, as a tour guide might, that Hillbrow is quite possibly the most dangerous place in South Africa and that no other locals go there, only people who actually live there. Her eyes now daggers, she muttered defeatedly nodding her entire body, “three kilometers straight up this road” pointing forward. The traffic light turned green so out she went into the busy street.

Before traveling to Africa, she had set intentions for a soul journey. As she’d attuned to the energy of South Africa, she contemplated the source of humanity on earth: the cradle of humankind and how this would be her roots of all roots. She wondered how far back this meant for the DNA that lives in her now. Black Jews of Africa were words that came to her as she saw flashes of Egypt. Soul journeys were very accessible to her as she was one who walked between worlds.

“Three kilometres straight then turn right and go all the way up the hill” her friend shouted, the taxis behind her nudging her along with beeping horns. Quickly crossing the street, she leapt over stagnant putrid water adorned with a rainbow of plastic bottle lids, faded wrappers, and floating soda bottles. Flies swarmed in unison with the hum of fury she felt in the energy around her. Women, men and children lined the street, sitting on the pavement behind brightly colored cloth blankets and plastic bags serving as a makeshift market with goods for sale. Large bowls of mopane worms, and an array of familiar fruits and vegetables that were a bit grounding amid the new terrain. She walked along feeling the intensity of the vibe in the air, focusing on relaxing her body completely with every step so as not to draw attention or to be mistaken as the source of anything that might spark an unwanted interaction. Just as bees sense fear she had observed in life how those energy matches occur between people too, recapitulating perpetrator and victim stories from the unconscious.

Three times she was stopped and asked, “Sangoma. Will you initiate me?” There was something about her that caused her to be seen as a traditional South African healer. Upon arrival, first from the clerk at the car rental agency, then at markets and shops many called her sangoma. She’d been called many things all her life and delighted in noticing the various lenses of contextual meaning people give to everything.

“Hey you! You’re a Jew!” the young man yelled from across the street. As she rounded the corner in the opposite direction he was already standing before her. Greeting her with a forceful yet gentle handshake, “You are a Jew. I recognize you from this Motherland. You are a Jew from before Africa was Africa. I see you. I know you.” As they walked in rhythmic stride she became aware their hands were still interlocked. Her guide on this soul journey. 

The stench in the air grew fainter as she got used to it, tasting it between her tongue and nose she suddenly began seeing everything in view a reflection of her inner world. Places within her were awakened until there was no distinction between inner and outer. She felt it all pass through her: desperation, violence, anger, sorrow, amusement as the laughter ensued between two men they passed. This union opened worlds of connection transmitting information to and from her being. Piles of rubbish, open manholes overflowing, some men with leathered skin squatted gathering sewer water with buckets. Echoes of loud bangs from what sounded like a block or two away reverberated through her core and out through her relaxed limbs. The wild vibration awoke a primal place in her. She felt herself untamed. This somehow felt truer to her humanity than anything she’d known.

Hand in hand they stopped as if on cue. “I dreamt of you. I dreamt of you before you came here. I remember you. Do you remember?” At this point their hands felt as one, the only distinction in shades of skin tones: bronze and honey. His voice commanded her full attention as he spoke with power from the marrow of that place where souls rest.  “In this dream: white camel on green grass. My mother. She came to me. She died 5 years ago. My mother. She came to me.” It was apparent he was speaking of her mother who’d passed away just 5 years before as she felt her mother’s essence suddenly present. “Do you remember me? I am the sky. I am the ocean deep. I am the rain. I am You. Do you remember?”  Journeying beyond the confines of time and space of this incarnation, her mother’s essence a vehicle perhaps, she felt herself as all that was at the conception of humanity. A wave of energy moved through that sparked a twinge of concern for no apparent reason, as though an onlooker was peering at her. He sensed the shift and with squinted, impassioned eyes he questioned, “You are doubting? Are you doubting? You don’t remember that you are the ocean deep? You are the sky. Do you remember?” She centered herself in that place where souls rest, “I remember. I remember You. Would you like for me to make it rain?” lifting her hand and looking upward, the sky instantly darkened and the wind blew fiercely. Dust lifted in swirls as paper and plastic wrappings filled the air. His eyes widened. “Okay. Okay. You remember.” Instantly the air stilled and it was sunny again as they continued walking between worlds and then parted ways. 

Within the three kilometers through various neighborhoods and townships, she was followed by groups of men for some spans of timelessness where she faced the myriad of feelings this conjured.  Fearlessness her cloak and her primal instincts so alive, she shape shifted energy to appear as a man. Heads turning looking at her body with lust became nods accompanied by utterances like “What’s up man?” 

Reaching her friend’s home as the day slipped into the deep pink sky, she rang the bell at the gate then entered gate after locked gate opened by the security guard. Are we but tamed, domesticated, caged humans living in fear of the wild and unknown threats that merely live in mind?

©2020-2022

As she poured a cappuccino for her last customer of the day, cable cars filled her vision, hilly streets, and the scent of freshly baked sourdough bread. This is how she stepped in resonance as though a movie were playing out to guide her throughout the day. Wow, looks like I’m going to San Francisco she registered in that place within her where intuition reports such information. Her entire being teemed with wonder of how that might unfold. She always traveled this way: a place would surround her and she’d be there soon after.

As a barista she focused on observing energy moment to moment, using the role as a kind of practice to be in the centered flow whatever occurred around her. Customers would notice and say things such as “you’re like that goddess with a thousand arms.”  She moved effortlessly and efficiently. She had a way of always doing more than seemed humanly possible. She had such a focused vortex that glasses would sometimes fly into her hands from a few feet away. A bottle of Prosecco might bounce three times on the concrete floor then into her hand as she counted out change, positioned the glassware, and took the next four orders while also speaking very presently with Hannah about her mother’s illness. Her energy field extended out a city block or more so she would see or feel someone approaching and have their drink ready by the time they arrived. She was so attuned to everything she would hear someone’s keys rattle and know without thinking that it was time to make a tall mochaccino with extra chocolate for Jim. That same attuned balance the center wherever she moved and interacted with life.

Walking to the post office from the café was a joyous meander through city streets lined with buds of early Spring. She relished the energy of the new, exchanging smiles with passers by. “Hey! I was just thinking of you!” a familiar voice shouted. “I wanted to see if you might be interested in these two free round trip tickets,” her arm waving the vouchers out the car window. “You can fly free to anywhere in the Continental US.” Here were the tickets to San Francisco she felt in that place within her where she’s amazed with gratitude and appreciation for the magic of life. Last time they’d seen each other that same friend had rented her home while she traveled to India. A travel angel perhaps.

Mail in hand, bouncing along the worn path home she wondered who might go with her to San Francisco. She then asked from that place within herself that sends out vibes: how about some spending money for the trip? She received a text message from a dear friend “just found out I have Spring Break free wondered if you might be up for San Francisco?” A few more steps and on the ground she found $350. Turns out her friend had lived in San Francisco for years so one phone call later they had a place to stay and a car to drive.

Gazing at the Golden Gate Bridge the next day from  her new friend’s flat a statue of the goddess with a thousand arms on the window sill all but winked at her.

©2020-2022

It is said that shamans are brought back from journeying by the scent of cooking. Olfactory senses are the pathway between dimensions and even lifetimes. Just as shamans are brought forth into the body of their current incarnation so also are we transcended and ancestors or other passed loved ones invoked by way of smell. 

Chopping ginger in her kitchen the scent of barley and rice wafted through conjuring a sensation that felt as if a tectonic plate of her brain shifted suddenly. Light shone into long-forgotten crevices, beaming on a discovery that is only conceptualized by some.

She was suddenly and very viscerally having the experience of being a monk meditating in a cave in Tibet as she stood at her kitchen island: a parallel life perhaps she thought as her rhythmic chopping became simultaneously the beads of a mala pushed between her thumb and index finger. Her clanking furnace  became the sound of bells around the necks of a herd of yaks passing near the cave. A prayer resounded as if she where silently uttering the words from within, “May I return to this plane of existence until all sentient beings awaken.” An earnest wish from the deepest marrow of the monk caused a tear as she diced an onion, pushing forth bead after bead of the well-worn mala. 

She then had the stark realization that it was from this prayer of the monk in the cave that her entire current existence arose: out of a single tear.

She began to wonder whether she is the monk in the cave in Tibet or the woman in the kitchen chopping.

The Light that projects them both?

©2020-2022

How long have I been wailing out like this? It feels like what someone might describe as an eternity, as if that could be measured. If the measure of this wailing is exactly proportionate to the depths of pain I feel then perhaps an eternity it is. Vast. Relentless. But an eternity of pain seems so disproportionate to the finite life she lived and all of the moments we shared so faint in contrast to this all-pervasive agony. When I look at them now it appears as if this pain is an ocean and my mother’s entire precious life one grain of sand on the ocean floor. 

The closest person ever to me and this monster called The Grief have somehow bonded and live in a mysterious world where my very essence is held captive. I felt that if my mom were to die, I would die alongside her and it seems much of me has. What’s left here I do not recognize as me. The Grief has become its own entity with whom I contend daily. It gets much more attention than what’s left of me does. The Grief is always between my mom and what I now call me, and she like that grain of sand on the ocean floor is so hard to reach. I am wandering. Lost. Disoriented in these depths as a free diver without a line pulling me to the buoy at the surface, no sense of direction. Unmoored. Searching. 

I imagine walking out the door of this house and walking and walking. I would walk over mountains, through cities, small towns, along rivers and lakes. It’s the only thing that feels good right now. Walking, walking and walking some more. If I were to walk and walk and keep walking might I find a better place where I have a different life? If only there were a rewind button for real life. I would walk backwards across these months that seem like the longest years until she reappeared. I would first see her taking her last breath back in, then I would feel her breath caressing my face as I lean into her, relishing the sensations of her every breath against my skin. These visceral memories now mere words resounding in my foggy head are being wept so that even I can barely make them out. 

Will I ever find what it takes to walk forward with determination? Could I walk until I find my sweet mama somewhere in another land? A place where she escaped to live her own different life. I would never let on that I knew her before, as if we were in the witness protection program. She would appreciate that because deep down she wanted to leave the life she had behind. We would know each other anew, yet most familiar of anyone ever. Our connection so special, as our telepathy gave us an intimacy like no other. We weren’t attached by the dysfunctional family dynamics that glue people to each other. We were like twin souls from the same pod who had lived many lifetimes together. Friends would say “you’re like the same person.”  I think in our first look at each other when I was born we both said without words: we’ve got this and lived in tandem from that point forward. This is how we would look at each other when we reunite in our new lives.  We’d turn heads and conjure smiles as we laugh because we just get each other.  She the forever young type, some would ask if we are sisters or cousins. We would giggle and avoid answering such questions. We would not speak of the family we once had and we would not feel the subtle guilt carried by our opinions. No memories would be shared, only new ones made until the origin we’d known faded like seagulls’ footprints on the sand. We would live with a secret that we could proudly hold close to our chests.  

My chest. There is a rhinoceros on my chest. So heavy. Must be a pregnant rhino. The weight feels so unbearable in moments I want to slip out of this body and take off as a whispy cloud, the kind that makes prismatic rainbows when the sun hits it just right. Yes, a cloud with a rainbow in for a brief visit. What must it feel like to be that whispy? To be so thin that I might just suddenly vanish from the view of onlookers below. I could also collaborate with other clouds, become more dense and dark then fall into another form as rain, saturating lotioned arms and freckled cheeks; lay upon a sidewalk reflecting the sky whilst providing a quick bath for a cardinal; become part of a raging river that will surely take me far away from this rhino.

When someone we love dies we feel like the entire world ought to stop. We, suspended beyond time and space, are frozen in a layer just outside of our usual reality, a stratosphere outside of ourselves. We operate from that place as one might say: slow as molasses in January. If I were comparing this state of being to molasses, it would be for the putrid stench of its process. Have you ever been near a refinery where molasses is made? 

One fascinating thing about this deep level of agonizing pain is that at some point it crosses over its place along the spectrum of emotion and blends into elation just as Pantone colors do. It’s always so hard to see where one ends and the next begins. No distinct line.  It’s like I’m a massive infant who cries in one moment and then suddenly smiles then laughs. Is this our very primal nature? Molasses from stench to sweet in a flash that blends the two together. Slow is indeed the new norm but we don’t feel that in the moment. We give it our all and feel ourselves in such effort, with very little results to show for it. Only after a day of pushing through the persistent fog that engulfs us in what we think is forward with all of our might, we look at what was accomplished and see that we did nothing. Nothing, especially compared to our usual. More to grieve atop The Grief: that we lose who we were.  After months now, I am wearing the same shirt every day because it is the one I was wearing when we last hugged. 

Our last hug. 

These words hit me as a bell inside an empty chamber echoing off the hollow walls of my ribs and sending tears like doves abruptly out in every direction. 

Even in dreams I search for her. The dreams vary a bit but I am always searching for her. I walk city streets and see her just as she turns the corner. At every turn I just miss her, never catching up to her. As I go about each day in what feels like a dream state, I find myself driving in circles around town like a fly circling incessantly and restlessly through a house, longing for the outside.

The sound of an incoming text sends me out of my skin. Still recovering my shot nerves I muster the energy to look at who it could be after filing through eight names in my head, eliminating them quickly since most have been avoiding me and The Grief.  I’m amazed at how people respond and react to death, dying, and grieving. So very telling. It must be someone texting who’s asking something of me. Since I’ve always been the type who is so strong and so capable it’s especially difficult for anyone who has known me to imagine I am not that person they’ve leaned on for support. I’m that puddle on the sidewalk now. There is nothing here to give to anyone except a reflected view of an open sky. I can barely meet my own basic needs. It’s the driver I hired when in Africa last year texting me to report that he dreamt last night he was having sex with me and how nice it was, that he misses me. There was not a single moment in the several weeks of him driving me daily that this man was ever for a moment not very professional. His dream, a glimpse into a different reality from his own impoverished daily life wherein he finds simple bliss. I can still smell the organ meat cooking over the open fire made of burning coffin scraps. The stench of death, walking between worlds as a palpable hovering of ancestors enclosed in an embrace under the vast African sky. 

©2018-2022

Past lives and the typical view of them are shaped by a linear view of the cycle of death and rebirth. When we look through the lens beyond the confines of time, in its linear sense, we can glimpse entirely different angles and views. What we then may see as lifetimes are all occurring Now from the infinite source connected through consciousness itself with no bounds; consciousness itself playing out in its many forms which reveal a particular combination of patterns arranged… momentarily. Mind gives more permanence than the fleeting duration of each appearing form. The unique signature of each form collects and emits information which churns in the grand pool of consciousness. Now, in an instant a particular moment expressed in form along the continuum can be accessed or known by any other form: consciousness knowing itself, as its very etymology infers. Timelines, simultaneously occur as multiverses upon multiverses spiral and entwine, and inform one another. Just as we can stand before a tree, vibrate at that particular frequency and experience/know what it is like to be that tree so can we tap into any other form of consciousness. We, as Consciousness, are truly formless. Identifying as the body and within the constructs of limitations therein has beings only thinking otherwise, as the fluidity of our nature gets overshadowed and forgotten. Believing thoughts as true and real, the detriment of many. We traverse the threads of consciousness which inform in all directions infinitely. The way that lifetimes meet beyond linear past, present, and future lives could possibly be likened unto patterns in Nature. They are circles which overlap with other circles and all are connected, ultimately, as the seed of life..
When we take an example and look at lives over centuries then peer into the significance of the connection of these lives as becomes apparent at some point along the continuum,  we can see consciousness observing itself and informing timelines Now. The point in time and space with relevance known as past or future has no bearing, as forms are informed  from all directions as consciousness itself. Perhaps the common mission of these beings, though living in different eras, is on the same trajectory and so all are actually working in tandem Now.  We can also view the mission of these beings in a cycle that is greater than the span of each of their lifetimes. How do we pinpoint where a mission began? All influencing and all informing, the cycle itself in motion by greater forces. We are but a fraction of a participating portion of the whole. A tiny thread in the tapestry of that which is being woven. When all circles and seeds of life overlapping one another are shown over time they appear to be another pattern altogether when we look again: prolifically blossoming in the rhythmic flow of creation.
Imagine ‘zooming out’ and viewing cycles and patterns  which show how forms of Consciousness are connected along the continuum Now.  Might the points of intersection intrigue us more than what matter the circles contain?  Might the patterns of the whole intrigue us more than  points of intersection?  All fluid and in motion, of course, we map these fleeting intersections as we may draw constellations in a vast sky. We, who by another gazer are merely stars which have long burned out.

©2018-2022

Nearly 2am Asheville
I just walked a few blocks of our downtown. Roaches and rats scurry in search of what’s left behind, echoing the daily activity of the tired homeless feet now jutting out of cozy alcoves just across the tattered streets from brightly-lit shiny new hotels. Slurred, drunken cat calls from swaying young donut-eating men reverberate off vacant buildings holding promise of more breweries to come. Sirens and laughter mingle in the distant air, as a cluster of youth huddled upon benches and bricks beg for drugs and money as I round the construction equipment-filled corner. A muffler rumbles through near a patio of drinkers placing their last-call orders. Screams and shouts escalate as the driver of the monster truck sounds off a train horn, waking nearby residents whose windows are suddenly aglow. Twenty-two years of walking these streets, and nothing is too familiar.

©2018-2022

The narcissist and the empath: what a hot topic in the world today, especially with so much attention on those in leadership roles who are penned as narcissists.  We see this duo acting out across politics, in businesses, within spiritual groups and religions, in communities, and in our most personal relationships. Those identifying as empaths are rising up and becoming more vocal about being victims of abuse, in a huge push against those who are being deemed narcissists. Exposing misuse of power and standing up against it has brought a voice to that which was repressed, greater awareness to the imbalances we’ve been facing, and is perhaps a start toward greater equanimity.  We have a golden opportunity to make a shift, and our work is far from over.

For the sake of what’s really being said here, let’s set aside that narcissistic personality disorder is a term requiring a clinical diagnostic assessment by a qualified mental health professional. We see numerous publishings about how those representing these two archetypes relate in intimacy. Leaders are being flogged by words on social media and with lengthy in-depth articles which lay blame. Mobs have formed, claiming accountability by force and bullying as noble whistleblowers are speaking up and publicly condemning narcissistic behavior.  This clearly is a crying out as aspects of us die underneath the surface, in silent screams for far too long. While useful to some degree, it is a far cry from a stopping point in our evolution, and does not absolve us from culpability. Taken too far, the victim in this story becomes the perpetrator.

As we examine closely, we see that this cycle of abuse requires both participants: those being called the narcissists and those identifying as empaths. Underneath the labels and beneath all of the fights and flights, we discover two similarly wounded human beings who are mirroring each other in a perfect match for healing.  The onus is ours, as humanity, to shift and to heal both sides of the equation. The divisiveness we have co-created keeps us personally and collectively fragmented.  It’s what occurs when aspects of the whole are disowned. Even across spiritually-focused groups where we ought to be most unified, we are currently divided by this fragmentation as these cycles, to which many allude, persist. Until we come together as one collective humanity and begin to heal the divide, we shall remain a fragmented and suffering species.  When we stop seeing what we’ve lumped into a term called the narcissist as an evil subhuman with which to contend or to discard and we own it as ourselves, we will be well on our way to transforming our inner worlds. Owning the shadow of humanity, and seeing everything truly as ourselves are necessary steps for this popular dynamic duo to shift and even possibly to dissipate.

How do we unpack our collective resistance?

We actively recapitulate and perpetuate unhealthy cycles we learned to create and to tolerate in our early childhood. We relish tiny splendid morsels of reward as we wallow in shadow gunk wondering why we cannot be fully seen, heard, nor appreciated for our gifts, missing that it is because we have disowned aspects of ourselves. We look to relationships to give us what our innermost depravations need from us ourselves. We are so entrenched in our collective shadow that we deny our own highest and best expression in which we wish to flourish.  We must focus not on analyzing and attacking external behaviors, but look instead within ourselves for our own part in healing and becoming present.

Some of us are stuck in this cycle due to unhealed wounds of which we may not even be aware. Others of us are entrapped thinking we are in our best service to humanity by remaining in this place, hiding behind many stories which have us spinning in instead of spiraling out of the pattern.  Some of us keep trying to change the patterns by doing the same things over and over, thinking it will be different this time, or that we will change just enough to be able to cope differently and not do harm. The triggers we encounter make it very challenging for us to see our true part in the story as we slip into fogs of confusion, trauma, and grief. We further seal trauma bonds, as energies and accusations bounce between us. The switchback occurs and we lose our footing. We see-saw into shame and blame shifting, placating ourselves and each other.  We fuel and fan the flames of this energetic as we dampen our own resources. We were groomed and taught to do this from our earliest days so we have become quite masterful at this. We are not only victims of past traumas, we are currently victims of ourselves. Until we fully face the aspects within us that are terrified and feel powerless in the face of certain behaviors, and raise those places within us to new roles, we are doing a disservice to ourselves and to collective humanity.

Positivity and ‘spirituality’ movements and groups are also the guise by which aspects of our collective shadow are concealed, escaping the call to face our own depths. Phrases such as Love and Light are sometimes used as a shield from anything that is perceived as bad, dark, evil, the wrong vibe, and such. This is often where we exhibit cognitive dissonance, professing Oneness, yet  being quick to cut out what is perceived as toxic or not good. Here, we contribute to the perceived dark, adding mass to the collective shadow, and to toxicity by way of deflection and neglect.  Exclusion of aspects of Oneness in its totality postpones our healing. Until we meet the hidden aspects within ourselves, we are not approaching our own lives nor the collective holistically.

What is labeled Truth and excludes anything that does not align with it is another version of this. Ignoring something does not make it go away. It is as if we are afraid to become the perceived darkness and to lose who we think we are. Actually, we are merely shining light on that which has not been seen. The less light and presence we give what we have fragmented off and labeled the dark side, the more gnarly, loud and scary it becomes. The closer we can get, offering presence to it, the better chance of averting toxicities and becoming well-integrated beings. Everything begs to come to the Light, destructive patterns our loud wake up call to dig deeper. The more comfortable we are with allowing ourselves to personally feel the full gamut available to us, the greater capacity we have to traverse the totality of Reality. We will then stop participating in co-creating fragmentation and will stand in equanimity, face to face with every facet of ourselves.  As long as we see an us and a them, a we and a they at odds and in a competitive edge, in even the subtlest of ways, we are contributing to divisiveness.

Our adopted meaning of compassion can be our achilles heel. We have largely developed a blind spot in this regard. We hide behind noble deeds we refer to as compassion or even terms like selfless love when what we are really up to is abandoning ourselves and our own best interests. Resenting ourselves at the deepest level, we push off of victimhood, basking in our goodness. This fits like a snug glove with the need of those of us with narcissistic tendencies who seek healing through the empathic nature. This codependent martyrdom is begging to see its way out of our construct. True integrated compassion has a measure of severity that many of us have not developed, yet it is an essential component especially when facing the more dense energies in existence. As we reclaim what we have disowned, we develop a measure of severity within our compassion. This means saying no when necessary, having clear boundaries and protecting them, taking great care of our own needs.  This means holding both a cup and a sword.

This development of severity in compassion lends itself to those identifying as empaths lifting out of the strong need and desire to heal narcissistic characteristics.  This ultimately calls those of us with more narcissistic behaviors to begin to learn to relate in different ways, as the attempt to heal through the empath can no longer play out when there is no outlet to plug into. The focus then moves onto what may be driving the outcomes, and to discovering the core wounds that lead to these destructive patterns. As we unplug from this match and have enough distance, we can be on our way to healing, each of us working individually with our own inner wounds. This sometimes requires great vigilance.

Some of us are consciously meeting the unseen places within us, utilizing the mirror of the patterns we’ve co-created to conjure the depths of our own demise that we are aware lies deep within us. In this dynamic realm of existence, we get to see ourselves, as consciousness gets to know itself.  Our greatest duty is to know thyself.  As we begin to prosper in sharing gifts and abilities of our unique signature, it is of the utmost importance that we are able to return to our own energy field, to have a well-established home within us where we find respite. When this foundation is not solid and stable enough, we can easily get lost in the energies, and even entities, with which we mingle. When we have a strong sense of our own core, we become adventurous and even daring as we expand and explore much more terrain.

As we deepen our knowledge of self, we discover that ultimately we all have both narcissistic and empathic characteristics and capabilities within us. The more we heal, the less charged we are toward behaviors. The more neutrality we bring to life, the greater breadth and depth of our journey. We are able to traverse the deepest and darkest of the shadows of ourselves and the collective underworlds beneath the suffering of humanity, transforming and transmuting the underpinnings as the powerful healers and light workers we are. Only when we are well-equipped does this not seem daunting. Once we see everything as us, we integrate our best selves within the highest vibration of neutrality.

©2018-2022

 

1-minute teaser of film currently being produced

Stay tune for more!

©2019-2022

Becoming

As you walk through the corridor your footsteps echo as if you were the character in a film playing out a poignant moment in a drama. Each time you blink your eyes, a different color appears on the walls that surround you, and simultaneously the floor beneath you changes textures: each combination reminiscent of stark moments throughout your life. As you become: acutely aware of the correlation between your eyes blinking and your surroundings, you begin to play with the shifts as if you yourself were a game. It occurs to you that if you indeed have eyes that are blinking and feet that are stepping, you must have a body and you suddenly wonder how it is so that a body is still present in the afterlife. This very awareness propels you out of what you then realize was an idea that you have a body and you then become: aware that there were no eyes and no feet except in mind that seemed to make it so. You wonder what else mind might make so, and then as you peer through this lens, you dance between illusory mind and awareness in loops which capitulate the undulating cycles revealing again but another game. As you become: acutely aware of the correlation between mind and awareness, you begin to play with the shifts as if you yourself were a game. It occurs to you that if there is indeed mind that is perceiving, you must be of mind, and you suddenly wonder how it is so that mind is still present in the afterlife.  This very awareness propels you out of what you then realize was an idea that there is mind and you then become: aware that there was no mind except what was perceived.

©2016-2022

sorrows wail in night’s hand

lifted to the sun, glint of sand

daunting is the caustic youth

which binds the old from untold truth

longing for the open sky 

yet bending o’er the black rye

like a plague envelops the mind

and flails the pure to be unkind

©2012-2022

Oh you beckon me
I lean into you
supple as a sapling to the wind
You intrigue me
I peer into you
persistent as the dawn through the fog
You entice me
I fall into you
agile as a leaf toward the river
You petition me
I succumb to you
acquiescent as the sand to the tide
Ephemeral you are
I catch a glimpse and as a glint you are gone
I am as the sun casting only your shadow before me and behind me

2012: the year my mother would pass from this world

©2011-2022

I have ‘always’ seen water as such a great metaphor for all of existence…Consciousness itself.  Every drop of water essentially one, all of the same source…whatever form it takes (cloud, vapor, ice, stream, aether, sea) all same, same.

hence the use of ‘coalescence’

Whence comes this splendid phenomenon and to where shall it return?  It is never separate from the whole…dispersed the world ’round and throughout the ages, yet incessantly spiraling back into itself and out again… We cannot grasp it nor fully explore its depths, yet in just a moment All emanates (becoming penetrable) from a single droplet on a pine needle…the enormity of its vastness is clearly seen and encompassed in the tiniest bubble of mist on a sea.

Coalescence

I see You in morning dew on spider silk
a trickle over moss-grown stone under mountain laurel
wisp of cloud eclipsing the moon
a gently descending snowflake
I hear You in the song of the raging river, Your cadence music to my soul
I feel You wash over and through me, thunder in hand
You penetrate my bones, pierce me with Your chill
envelop me for I am warmed by Your embrace
as the estuary imploring a boundless sea whose depths shall not be known
I gazed into Your placid mirror and lo there is One

©2010-2022

Do I have a favorite color? My favorite color changes frequently. Today, it is that of those day lilies humming in my Summer garden…seems so close to that blood orange on the walls surrounding as I walked up the steps of a dear friend’s home. I sometimes imagine myself enveloped by a particular hue and feel the comfort of its embrace…could be the crimson in the delicate line at the center of the white orchids above my kitchen sink that matches the polish on my mother’s finger nails; a rare azure occasionally appearing in the sky that evokes images I gazed upon as a child in my grandparents’ illustrated catholic bible. At times, I admire a color and attempt to feel its vibration…could be the green of young gingko leaves in Spring that paint will never rival; the fuchsia presented by the dried orchid cactus flowers on my coffee table…the same of those flowing saris women wore that sunset on the beach of the Arabian Sea; the electric cyan of the ocean I have seen just before landing in Mexico; avocado, eggplant, or saffron while enjoying the art of cooking; the light of the full moon against the albescent Winter ground that reflects my childhood…full moon on cotton fields I imagined to be snow in the warm Louisiana Autumn breeze…painted horses as it melts; scarlet Japanese maple leaves dancing against the crisp Fall sky that echoes the sincerity and clarity in the blue of your eyes; the indigo hue that glows just before the silhouette of the mountains is overtaken by the sun’s majesty; the opaque veil of frost blanketing a Spring lawn; the sunrise permeating ice on the Himalayas…the pink crown of the world; or the jade sequins flowing on Ganga’s dress. Color is like music. Vibrational frequencies resonate with energy coursing through my veins and conjure memories linked to my sensory perceptions, sometimes luring me towards new, unfound resonance.

©2010-2022