21 October 2017

My first Altar- age 7


recorded 4-15-12
Kim’s parents let her go to my Gramie’s with me one summer. Usually I would play alone in the meadows, around the barn and at the brook. Children did that, then. As long as I came soon after my grandmother called for me, it was fine. She lived down a steep embankment off of a quiet highway deep in the Catskills.
       We were playing on the front porch. I felt something click in the left side of my neck and I burst out, “Let’s make an altar to the nature Spirits!”
       “Yeah!” said Kim, always pretty agreeable and up for whatever our imaginations.
       Kim and I ran upstairs in the small playroom, which was really an open room to the right at the top of the narrow, steep stairs, that led into my mother’s old bedroom. My Gramie kept all of my playthings there. I said we should get some of the costume jewelry, and some play money, because we had to leave an offering for them.
       We took those things and rushed down through a thin patch of woods to the brook. On the slope before the brook, we terraced out a flat patch of earth near the roots of one of the old trees and carefully laid out the gifts we had for the Nature Spirits. Satisfied with this endeavor, I said we should cover our gifts with the leaves we had swept aside, lest anyone should steal the gifts before the fairies could get them. We went on our way, to whatever else the day was calling for us to do.
       I never looked back, and soon forgot about it, everything- the calling to make the altar, that it was even there- until many years later. For all I know, a tiny necklace of plastic pearls still lies entwined in the earth.
       Not bad for two little Catholic schoolgirls. They didn’t teach us about making altars to the nature Spirits in catechism.

19 October 2017

What's all this "me-too" about?

It's about the rise of the feminine divine. Those of us who knew that this was happening, had been brewing for a hundred years now. Now, the third cycle shall begin in earnest. The third wave.
       "Every warrior needs an impetus to act." I said this to a young woman the other day. I was upset about a different, environmentally related, local issue, and I was looking to channel my anger into something more helpful, like plans for positive action.
       It's the "bad guys" that push us so far that we have to get up, take a stand and innovate/channel positive change. "Contrast creates desire." Those who are attuned with the work of Abraham-Hicks will know that quote. It's true.
       And you know what? Women have been fucking each other up for so many hundreds of years. This is bringing them together. I hope that the movement does not derail and stagnate in anger and victim consciousness. It is the reunification of like souled women with their sisters that will weave the web of stable power, unconditional love that will energetically reboot the original blueprint of this world.  
       As women's power awakens, it is important to direct the focus of the group activity on what is most positively desired as the outcome of the present activity. This visualization of the end-product so to speak is how you will bring about the changes that you desire. The rules of positive visualization have not changed. Holding anger in the heart or mind toward the offender will only further link your energies to their energy field(s). If the offender is truly a being who is not aligned with the light, then they will make use of  this energy linkage. Hatred, resentment and so on, if sustained  make the energetic fields further vulnerable to attracting more like energies and/or entities.
       That's all on that for now. 

17 October 2017

The Angel rides the 7's (from, "earth~spirit")


Recorded, October 14, 2014. From my journal entry of: July 18, 2010. (my Soul Realignment had been done just in May of that year)  I called this the: 

 7’s Story
Last Wednesday morning (July 14, 2010) I went out to the store to buy my makeup- and the total came to 7.72 (my birth year and month). Then I went to the bank to deposit the refund check from Omega for the workshop that I’d cancelled for my birthday weekend- And as I was signing it, I noticed that the number on the check was 72717 (my birth year, month, and day 72.7.17)

Hmmmm….

So, after I saw that check number at the bank I squealed, “Ooooh! I’m ridin’ the sevens!”

And I went to go buy a “Lucky 7’s” scratch-off at Stewart’s, ‘cause the Lucky 7’s from Stewart’s, specifically, seem to be luckier than the other stores. But they didn’t have any.

So, I drove down the highway towards home and pulled into the next station. I dug around in my (grey flannel) purse and found the heavy black leather wallet with the chain and pulled out three wrinkly singles and got out of my van- still skipping and giggling towards the front door.

After the man in front of me stepped aside, I stepped up and asked the woman at the counter if they had any Lucky 7’s. I handed her one of the dollars and took my ticket outside. It was a bust. I felt like spending the other two and went back inside the cool air to ask for two more.

This time I climbed up into the driver’s seat of my van. I took a deep breath and scratched the silver film off the last two tickets. No go. My heart started to sink…

I put on my seat belt, started her up and backed out of my parking spot on the side of the busy station.

I noticed, to my left as I began to go forward, a man helping a tall young girl put her bicycle into the back of a shiny white pick up truck. (He seemed to notice me as I went by. His head followed the driver’s side window as I drove past.) He was a man of average height, with sandy blond feathery hair, Shaun Cassidy style- and he had on a clean white cotton t-shirt and white painter’s pants. His face was beaming with kindness and he smiled at me as I drove past him- I smiled back.

Good luck on the next part of your journey!” he called to me as I turned my head to look at the road.

I called back, still giggling, “Thank you!”

Then, it hit me, a wave of energy, rushing through my solar plexus. My back straightened. I slowed down and looked in my side mirror back at him. He was still watching the van- he was beaming, I felt, and orb of light around him, and floods of unconditional love seemed to be streaming from his face- smiling ear to ear at me as I left the parking lot.

“An Angel…!” I gasped. I sat for a moment at the red light, inspired and in awe.

The light changed and I turned to head for home. There was still much to do to get ready to go away for the night.

(Note October 16, 2017- Through the use of significant, repeating numbers, do you see how I was being primed for the message that was going to be given to me? Through this use of numbers, the Angels woke my consciousness up, so I would be in a higher vibrational state, so that I would recognize Archangel Gabriel. That was the name that had seeped into my mind as I sat at the red light...)