"Akashic Record", the Earthly Version

*the Internet, the World Wide Web, all this Social Media*

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Recording all of these thoughts, feelings, experiences, all sorts of information. It's all quite amazing.  And you know what I'm thinking? Thanks to all of this recording of information on these digital files:

It's going to be SO much Easier to find myself,

from this life, in my next one!

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If I want to, of course. I'm leaving a pretty damned good 'paper trail' to follow, although by then I'll probably just have to 'think back' to here. Again, if I want to. Knowing Me, I doubt I will, though. Always looking forward, even when I spiral back.

Happy New Year, again (and an I AM Practice gift for you)

       It just occurred to me that some culture is celebrating some sort of "New year", in nearly every single Gregorian calendar month in a year. Maybe not literally, but I think it's pretty close. So, on his occasion of the Witches New Year, October 31st, I thought I would post the file that I created of a sample "I AM Practice". It is to help anyone who would like to get started with a daily "I AM" but was unsure of how to word their statements. This will give the seeker the tone of how the words are arranged for the most positive use of the Mantra 'I AM'.       

       Notice that none of these sacred mantras contain negative words such as, 'not', 'not', 'never'. Nor do these Intonations make reference to any present physical life condition that is considered 'undesriable'. No focus is placed upon any of this for some reasons, the two most of mine being: 1) Spirit does not hear the negative words, so the phrasing must not attract the opposite of what is desired as the eventual 'outcome'/manifestation and   

       This entire post, minus this sentence, will also appear as the I AM page above.

       May your celebrations be effused with that qualities that you so desire.

Love, Ursula Carrie

Y          Z  [  \  ]  W  z  ‚

“I AM” Sample Prayers/Affirmations 

For MORNING and EVENING

By- Rev. Ursula Carrie

Version #3, July 1, 2015

Inspired by:

1) The I AM Discourses, transmitted through Godfre Ray King from 1932-1935

For further information, please contact: SAINT GERMAIN FOUNDATION - SAINT GERMAIN PRESS  www.SaintGermainFoundation.org   www.SaintGermainPress.com

2) The Master Key System, by Charles F. Haanel,  original publication 1916

3) The Universal Mind Meditation, by Kelly Howell, inspired by the book, Three Magic Words, by U.S. Andersen

 4) other I AM statements by Ursula Carrie

Y          Z  [  \  ]  W  z  ‚

I AM always the Victorious Presence of the Mighty I AM.

I AM Impervious. {f you are sensitive to the Energies about you.}

I AM Invincible.

I AM Totally Secure.

I AM Free.

I AM the Pure Electronic Essence that fills my mind and body.

I AM Whole, Perfect, Strong, Powerful, Loving, Harmonious and Happy.

I AM the opulence of God, made Visible in My Hands and My Use.

I AM the balancing Breath.

I AM Yoga. {“Yoga”, meaning the perfect fusion of the Soul Self with the Physical Self}

I AM the Perfectly Controlled Breath of My Body.

I AM Confident.

I AM Peaceful. I AM Patient.

I AM Sure.

I AM the Dreams of God made Manifest through me.

I AM the Miracle-Working Presence in everything I require to have done.

I AM Clear-Minded.

I AM Clear about what I want.

I AM Guided to My Goals.

I AM the Full Comprehension and Illumination of everything

I want to Know and Understand.

I AM the Perfect, Divine Radiant Intelligence, active in my Brain

       and in every Cell of my Body.

I AM Peaceful.

I AM Centered.

I AM Secure.

I AM Loved and I AM Beloved.

I AM Comfortable in My Physical Body.

I AM Safe.

I AM Guided.

I AM Financially Abundant and Secure.

I AM the Riches of God, Flowing into My Hands and My Use.

I AM the Precipitation, Manifestation and Sustaining Power

       of Every Constructive Thing I Desire.

I AM the Presence that Clothes Me in My Eternal, Transcendent Garment of Light.

I AM the Only All-Powerful Acting-Presence in My Mind, My Body and My World.

I AM the Light of the Mighty I AM.

I AM the Sacred Transmuting Flame. {also called, the Violet Flame}

I AM the Mighty, Magic Circle of protection about Me that Is Invincible, and Repels from Me every discordant thought and element, which seeks to find entrance or intrude itself.

I AM the perfection of My World, and It Is Self-Sustained.

The Labret, 2

After I removed my labret piercing, I had three months of lay-up-against-the-heater cramping each time a period came. It felt like my uterus was being squeezed and twisted like a washrag. Every month. Then, it stopped. The menstrual flow was 'normal' again. Saying 'normal' just means 'pain-free'- but we women know that 'normal' is not an application in real life!
       So, if you've read some of my posts, then when I say, "Can you believe....?" you'll say, "Yep. I believe it." Right?
      

So, Can you believe it? One day, I'm the Kleinert/James Gallery standing in the vestibule, where the gallery attendant desk used to be. A woman comes in to see the show. {And, I'll also insert here if any of you know me, personally, you'll know and 'believe' this too-} We get to chatting. She's from India. We're yammering like old friends. Somehow, I give her the blurb of my 'labret-incident', which is all that it is at this point, a possibly random incident or voice in my head. {Honestly, I'll need to go back over my date books and journals where I recorded all of this, because I can't remember if I was still pregnant with my son- or if he was already a full grown, earth exploring baby at that point.} 
       One moment, one line has "fish-eye-effected" for me out of this interaction. She, after apparently hearing my story about having to take out the piercing, exclaimed,
       "Oh, Yes! That is a pressure point that prevents conception!"
She was laughing, and so joyful! I was laughing to, with a little bit of ["holy.shit"-ing] on the side.

Understanding Death- age 26



My 25th Birthday, at Laughing Rock Farm,
aligning with the energies of the goddess, Coatlique

Recorded September 30, 2014

After I left my apartment in Palenville, and just before I met my son’s father, I was invited to live in the spare bedroom at Liza’s house. I was working in Town at Not Fade Away and at the Tinker Street Café. It was February. I was twenty six. I had been obsessed with death since I began to store memories of my life. I suppose that it had come to a “head” and someone(s) had had enough of watching and listening to me obsess and waste nearly my every waking moment fearing and worrying about dying and what was going to happen to me and how sad it would be to leave this life behind.

       One afternoon, I sat on my bed. I didn’t have any particular thing to do. I wasn’t due to work anywhere that day that I can recall. I was in my usual morbid death mode, again in a slightly gothic punk phase of life, infatuated with a humorous and very slacker sexy heroin addict. I with a fresh piercing in my labret.

       Perhaps I was Still, a rare moment when I might have been still inside. I heard a voice, on the left side of my head, as always. There seemed to be two women talking with each other. Actually, they were consulting with one another. One was very chipper and was doing all of the talking, while the other seemed very reserved and reluctant to go with the plan that the first one was suggesting. I had a sense that the first woman who was talking was taller than the other and wore long straight black hair. I had less of an impression of the second as her presence was hanging back a bit. I felt like a window, or rather a door, had been opened onto someone’s home and I was suddenly able to eavesdrop on a conversation that perhaps I wasn’t supposed to hear. Or was I?

       While the second woman had her arms folded over her chest and persisted in doubt, the first woman was certain, and she declared,  “We’re just gunna’ to have to show her what it’s really like.”

       And, with the utterance of that statement, I felt myself falling, falling over sideways from  my waist, still seated with feet on the floor, in slow motion onto the bed.

       I felt a suction like a vacuum cleaner hose sucking me upwards until I hit a sort of ceiling. There was what felt like some resistance there, and harder suction was applied until I was whisked up through a sort of hole into a black place where there seemed like there was nothing. I stayed there for a short while it seemed.

       Then another suction force felt applied to me and I was sucked up through another opening. This time I had an odd feeling that I was expanding, like my edges were expanding, like I was getting bigger. I could see in this place and all around me was a nebulae of stars, but not individual stars in a black sky. The background and all around me looked and seemed like the texture and colors of pink and blue cotton candy. Lots of different colors of pinks and blues; soft baby pinks and salmon colors and baby blues with some threads of deep Montana sky blues- all swirled together like a twist ice cream cone and blended at the edges/color changes like a pastel drawing. And interspersed within all of this were diamond points of starlights. All over and within this cotton candy. And every point of light was twinkling.

       In my feeling of becoming larger, I also began to feel that I was every tree on Earth, every thing- I mean Every-THING. I was the sky I was every blade of grass, I was all of the trees and the birds- I couldn’t catalogue everything because it was also so nonconsequential. And after of feeling this expansion for an undetermined length of time, something began to happen that frightened me- I felt my Self dissolving. It felt as if I was a drink mix powder and someone had poured me into this large glass of water and started to stir me. At first it appears that the drink mix is getting more expanded, then crystal by crystal, molecule by molecule- it begins to disappear into the water. I was disappearing into the water. I was rapidly losing the substance I knew as myself- Ursula Carrie was fading, and fast! I could not comprehend what was happening except that I had a knowing somewhere, in whatever I had left of “me’, that I was becoming an undefined part of the All. I began to struggle like I was drowning, to fight my way back to the surface of the consciousness that I recognized.

       And like one would slap down a basketball- that is how I arrived back into my body.

       I opened my eyes- bolted upright, looked around. My entire torso felt open like the sky- I was elated! I said low in case anyone could hear, “Oh my God, this is the only time I’m gonna’ be Ursula Carrie!” For two solid weeks I held this feeling perfectly within me. I was determined to be the most fabulous Ursula Carrie I could be!

Gramie's Voice, One More Time

it is February 2008

       There is a craft fair today with the Woodstock Time Bank. I'd signed up for a table. I have all of my herbal salves and tinctures all boxed up to load into the car. My son is seven. I'll be loading Him, too.

       I pull back the curtain to look out the window and see what the weather is doing. It's snowing, just a little bit. I hate driving in the snow. I don't feel safe. Those few flakes start to inspire the thought, "Uh.... maybe I won't go..."

       But it's winter. The gallery is closed. Money is in less than short supply. We get by, but the electric bill is due. I'm having this dilemma, standing there staring at all of the boxes I'd packed. 'Just my jams and jellies, herbal salves and tinctures for sale, some sachets, you know. I'm checking out the window, watching the flakes float down. I have no idea how much more we expect. What if I don't sell anything? I feel paralyzed. I don't think I'm going to go.

       Then, the air around me gets very still. Something from outside, but inside, of me makes me stand up very straight. I feel Presence stand to the left and behind me, very close. The voice in my left ear is Gramie's, 

I wrote it down.

       It is a firm, loving tone of voice, not 'admonishing'. It is lovingly assertive, asserting. Unconditional love, and a feeling of confidence and strength fill my body and clear my mind. This feeling makes me stand up straight. I immediately walk to the boxes, pick one up and march it out to the car. I load the car and we go to the Woodstock Fire House for the Holiday Fair.

       I am late, but my empty assigned table is there. I hurry everything that I'd packed into the car into the firehouse. My son is already busy at a drawing station. We know a lot of the people here, so he's safe to run around. I set my table up quickly. I still don't think I'll sell anything, but I'm so into the project, now, that it doesn't matter...

*

       Well, you know what happened? Other vendors started leaving their own tables to come over and talk with me. I had fun. My son had fun. It was a great day, and it never did really snow more than those few flakes. And, I made the electric bill money... and a few more bucks to put some gas in the car.

       Until this day, this was the last time I heard my Grandmother's voice come through the veil. The other time, I'll write about soon. 

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.

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. 

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...)