I joined a free guided meditation facilitated once a week by a group of women called the Vessels of Peace over a year ago. I mention the free part because I was surprised that as the year unfolded the number of participants didn’t increase for all that there is a standing invitation for any and all to join. I saw/felt how hard a sell peace is in our world. www.vesselsofpeace.com/

I find prayer, specifically praying together, is also a hard sell. Since I began visiting online communities dedicated to spiritual matters I have been driven by a need to pray in this way, online, with others. Mostly I write to capture and share the heart and soul of my earth walk, which includes many prayers. At first I was taken aback, hurt even, when I openly invited others to pray with me, and no one heard me. I cherish and continue to send blessings to the first person who joined me in prayer in that first online community. (Hi Tim) Some few others, no more than I have fingers and toes have said that they joined those prayers.

We in the Western world have lost most of our avenues for joining together to pray. Our culture has vilified and denigrated the power of prayer, of serving others with the simpleness of our kind thoughts and good intentions. Those of us who do know and feel and practice the Truth of prayer feel awkward and shy about saying our prayers out loud. My absolute favourite prayer for twenty and more years calls for you to say it out loud three times at the same time everyday. I said the prayer at night before sleep, and for all that I slept alone for many of those years, I rarely said them aloud. Even alone I felt humiliated and uncomfortable.

I pray that mankind finds new avenues that the rest of me might join in this prayer for our One life. I pray for more courage to say my prayers outloud.

We Are the Masters of Our Destiny

At a place in my life when I worked six sometimes seven days a week I had plenty of money to spend. I was also unhappy. This had happened with money and I before, though I didn’t make the connection then. As a young dancer I made money and was unhappy.

This time it was more socially acceptable. I owned and operated a furniture business, became President of the local Chamber of Commerce, owned my home and was raising three boys alone. I was fiercely private about my intimate relationship with a man many years younger and even more private in an alcoholic and pharmaceutically addicted social milieu about smoking marijuana.

One ordinary day at the store, I am bored as usual by the tedium of shop keeping and have been sitting reading a good book hoping nobody would come in. When one woman customer came through the door I guiltily lay the book down and went to help her. She’s wasn't local and it’s was soon obvious I wouldn't be making a sale. Our conversation was amenable though and we spent half and hour chatting.

I have always been one to speak of matters of the heart. Small talk is boring. I don’t remember what I said that prompted this stranger to share intimate details of her life but my response to her I will never forget. I told her this is a prayer that has and will continue to change my life and I launched into a heartfelt recitation of “I am the Master of my Destiny.” by Lobsang Rampa. I was a bit stunned when I finished realizing how far outside normal social discourse I had taken us. Her smile and request that I write that prayer down stilled the pounding heart while I wrote it out.

Over the years since then I have recited and written this prayer out more times than I remember. I thought I would tell this story before I share the prayer once again.

To My Oversoul I pray,

Keep me free from evil thought, keep me free from the blackness of despair. At the time of my misery shine a light into the darkness that enshrouds me.


Keep my every thought good and clean. Keep my every action for the good of others. Keep my thoughts pure that my mind may be strengthened thereby.

I am the Master of My Destiny. As I think today so I will be tomorrow therefore let me avoid all thoughts that cause distress to others. May my spirit arise within me that I may succeed easily at the tasks that lie ahead. I am the Master of my Destiny. So be it.

May the Dimensions gracefully coalesce within us,
Blessed be
Anne

Won't You Get Naked?

There are a group of religious exiles that came to North America to escape Russian prejudice in the 1880’s called the Doukabours. The Doukabours were promised by the Canadian government that they would have complete freedom to practice their religion. They were a hard working people, farmers, and Canada needed all the immigrants it could attract.

When I moved to B.C. in the late 70’s I was introduced to the Doukabour people by news reports about an older woman, Mary, who had been jailed for protesting government by torching government buildings. While in jail she was fasting in order to continue her protest and the authorities were trying to force feed her.

It wasn’t until years later during a visit to the town of Grand Forks in the interior of the province that I learned more of Mary and the Doukabour story. I discovered that Doukabours had always found innovative, effective ways to protest government interference in their religious practices. For example, they considered tearing up railroad tracks, burning government buildings including schools a form of non violent protest. I didn’t. When I heard of women, mostly elders, stripping naked to march and protest I became deeply interested in the details of this group of people.

Mary came to mind today. A few years back I told my sons that if Canada ever tried to draft them to fight a war that I’d be heading to Ottawa to parade around naked in protest. I laughed and joked about making sure there were cameras there to capture the big bad polices trying to pick up and carry away my nakedness. My sons were horrified. Nobody was more surprised than me that I meant it.

I sat naked with Mary in my heart today. I thanked her for being who she was, for teaching me I am just like her. In the blink of an eye we sat still forever immersed in the pain and tragedy that drove us to our naked protest until we sat still forever immersed in the joy of naked service.

There is a naked theme in my life. I Antoinette Maleska morphed as a runaway into Niki and her male alter Tawny Tigress strip tease artist(love the irony). In middle age I’m writing naked bios and openly sharing the whispers of Honours the Gentle Breath of Spirit. I see I have been a multidimensional being trying to hide completely or cram aspects of me into itty bitty separate boxes.

Won’t you get naked?
Inside and out
Drop the facades
Examine the scars
No veils impeding
A view of the beauty
You really are.

May the dimensions gracefully coalesce within thee.
Blessed be.

The Dreamspell Calendar

I created a series of these glass on concrete for the garden, all abstracts that felt like they are their own universes. I'd like to put some of the crop circle symbols I've seen into this medium.

A fascinating old/new concept came under my radar a few months ago. There is a stone Mayan calendar decorating the wall next to where I sit typing. Court brought it back from the Yucatan fifty years ago. It was one of the few decorative items in the house when I moved in that didn’t end up at a garage sale. Like everyone, we’ve wondered what it really means, and how much credence to give those who claim it spells the end of time.

It was the words “Dreamspell Calendar” in a piece I was reading that started the search. I found that “a Dreamspell is "any agreed upon belief system which creates a continuing state of consciousness."

While I’ve long become accustomed to the idea of time as an illusion I’ve never spent any time studying how we spend time right now. The Gregorian Calendar that we keep time by descends directly from a Pope Gregory in the fifteen hundreds. Pope Gregory tweaked the Julian calendar that was imposed as law by Rome in it’s heyday upon her subject states. In effect, we continue to live under a law enacted two thousand years ago by a conquering nation, Rome to keep it’s subject states subjugated. And we’ve lived this way without question.

During my studies of the First peoples from around the world, from the Kalahari Bushmen to our Native American tribes I found many common links. Taking dreams for real is one and the thirteen moon lunar cycle another. I often wondered what North America would have look like now if the Christian Blackrobes had accepted the formation of a rainbow bridge between cultures rather than imposing Christianity. Now I’ve learned it wasn’t just the Christianity that conquered this continent…it was also the imposition of the Gregorian calendar.

Which brings me to that fascinating new understanding of the Mayan calendar and it’s prophecy about the end of time.

“We are now at the end of the Dreamspell of history (time) and at the beginning of the Dreamspell of galactic culture. This means that we are coming to the end of the belief in the male dominant, warrior hero, fear and separation paradigm. And we are preparing to move into the love based, artist hero paradigm of natural time. All we have to do is change our view of time and open ourselves to the love that is inherent in us all.

Time is both spiritual and physical simultaneously. This is why it is the 4th dimension. It serves to bridge between the physical and spiritual because it operates within both.

When we are born we are not asked what calendar we want to use. We simply have one imposed on us by the people who have come before us. Time is a mental concept in reference to the way we perceive it. We simply have to change our minds and time will change. In fact, it will revert back to its natural state. This act alone will begin the movement of our culture back into harmony with nature”.
For more information a link…
http://www.lawoftime.org/2012/13step-peace.html

Declare Yourself - Let Your Light Shine

Sometimes when, despite the fears, I push send on a piece I’ve written, I have sat afterward with my heart pounding. Sometimes an anxiety attack will creep up and if I’m not careful and head it off before it reaches the pass, it can be hours or days before I return to balance. That was the way of pushing send on a public declaration that Turtle Spirit is with me when I write. Since pushing send and walking through the ghosts of “who do you think you are?” a dam of words has burst.


Turtle Spirit whispered gently, declare yourself, let your Light shine.
Turtle Mother Spirit spoke aloud, declare yourself, let your Light shine.
Cosmic Turtle Mother Spirit thundered, declare yourself, let your Light shine.

That was the way of it. Over and over like the ceaseless waves against a seashore, Turtle Spirit prodded, nudged, cajoled, teased, inspired, supported, expanded, persisted and baited me. I’d take the bait and find myself again.

A sister in the light sent me an image of her family taken in their dining room. In the background of the picture were several glorious Light Orbs only seen after the pictures were printed. We marveled at the Orbs and wondered. Sometime passed and as I was sitting in front of my computer slide show, vaguely staring into space, one of the images caught my attention. Sure enough there was a Light Orb in the shot that I’d not noticed before. Since then half a dozen photos have surfaced with Light Orbs hovering behind and around the individuals in the pictures. In the same way that I could finally see Light Orbs in my pictures…now I see turtle tracks between my words.

Turtle Medicine

I read Lynn Andrews' Writing Spirit last winter. Ordinarily I speed read, and then return and reread a book. This book slowed me to a page or two a day, otherwise I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

To begin with I was intimidated by the idea of identifying my writing ally or animal totem. I have walked with a myriad of earth’s creatures, winged ones, four leggeds and water beings. How to find the one specific to writing? As well, I love to write and the idea of finding a guiding writing totem now had an emotional attachment, had become important. This I know is the best way to get in my own way. Instead of muddying the waters wondering, I let the want to know go. Occasionally my thoughts circled the question, nothing came and I made no effort to penetrate.

I stumbled across my answer. I waited before speaking that I might sit with the feeling of Cosmic Turtle as my writing ally. I was and am in awe of this totem. There is no possibility of hiding my light from myself when I look in this mirror.

I haven’t returned to Lynn’s book Writing Spirit for guidance or validation. Yet. I feel the truth. The signs have been there. Now I fathom the irresistible urge I followed years ago to carve a swimming turtle from soapstone. I never carved before or again.

Turtle characteristics include: (from the www.geocities.com/~animalspirits/ website)
Symbol of the earth
Connection with the center
Navigation skills
Patience
Self Boundaries
Associated with the feminine
Power to heal female diseases
Respecting the boundary of others
Developing new ideas
Psychically protecting oneself
Self reliance
Tenacity
Non violent defense

I honour and welcome these aspects. I am humbled by the magnificence of this ally.

I am honoured to share this sacred space with you. My spirits rejoices at having a community with whom to share, a community that dares.

Embodying Our Fairy Tales

I was reminded of an incident out of my life earlier today and felt prompted to write about it.

I am reminded of being a six year old girl with a new library card discovering the fairy tale section of the Public Library. After a few years of reading I dreamed often that I was a princess and a movie star.

Fifteen years later Tawny Tigress the Girl with the Million Dollar Legs felt that childhood dream come true at Pandora's Box burlesque theatre in Ottawa. The lights, the band, a silver sequined gown with flowing white cape and rhinestone jewelry stepped straight out of that dream. I was three months pregnant and this was to be my last show. My body was blossoming and I was radiant.

I could hear the booming of Goddess laughter over the beat of the drums as I walked the length of the runway stage. I heard “be careful what you wish for” and I laughed too. I loved how my dream was coming true. Laughing and joking with band and audience I danced the strip tease show of my dreams that night.

I’ve never put this story to paper before and I’ve learned much by doing so. Thank you for being there to share it with.

Sharingship Rather Than Leadership

Born the eldest of six I fell into leadership roles naturally. Tests have shown that a first born child when told to take three steps forward will take those three steps immediately and maybe a few extra for good measure. A middle child will hesitate before moving and move only three steps, and a youngest child might not move at all. And so be it,, it takes all kinds with no place higher or lower than another.

Leadership is often thought better than other roles. If we understand that leadership is about taking responsibility for the good of the whole, not the good of the one or leader, the shine wears off the role as the burden is assumed. We are all born followers; a real leader has to be a real follower first. She must be able to place herself in the position of any of the people she makes decisions for. From experience I tell you this is work, too much work.

I’m a lazy bone at heart. While I was able to accept a leadership role as natural in my life as a mother and woman, I felt uncomfortable thinking in larger terms knowing that everyone has the potential to lead. In fact I came to believe (with the help of a touching story book called Mutant Message from Down Under by Marlowe Morgan) that we all need to exercise our leadership muscles that we are better contributors by having an experiential understanding of the world we are sustained by. When my lazy bone and these ideas came into contact I had another perspective for leadership.

We are one man/woman parades. By opening up and sharing, playing show and tell if you like (I do), we each benefit from the experiences of the other.
As spokes on a wheel are nothing without the wheel, we are nothing without each other. Like spokes our strength is in sharing the weight of our passage.


Moving through the lessons of our life in the company of like minded individuals lessens the burdens and trebles the joys…thanks for being there.

Lessons from the June Garden

Earlier this week while admiring the garden from the porch I noticed a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head on time to witness a pigeon hawk landing on the ground on top of a yellow finch. Courts’ inclination was to startle the hawk by standing up and clapping his hands, mine was to stop Court from startling the hawk…the finch was a goner….no sense wasting the kill. The hawk was wary of us, but he stayed his grip while the finch went through his death throes. The hawk flew off five minutes later with his meal.

On the day of Summer Solstice I stepped into the garden and found myself again involved in a life/death drama. A couple of months ago I wouldn’t have shared this picture; I would have posted another shot of a butterfly. Now, in keeping with the realization that I have been shunning aspects of feminine energy, I will look, learn and share.


Snakes are an easy life form to revile…they thrive in dark places. Where once snakes were respected, even worshiped and recognized as part of who we are, today our first instinct is often to chase away or destroy a snake. Most of my life I have attached judgment by perceiving the hawk or the snake as bad and their prey as good. (This while I felt that Hawk is one of my totems.) As I captured these pictures I felt instead blessed and honored to witness a junco dying to feed a snake. Who knew a water snake hunts birds?

My relationship with snake energy began improving a few years ago when I happened upon a coil of snakes, hundreds of them coiled together in a heap in the sunshine of an early spring afternoon. The visual was fascinating and remains strong in my minds eye to this day. A large gathering of crows is called a murder of crows… I continue to wonder what a grouping of snakes coiled like that is called.

Toledo finally spotted me laying on my belly in the grass taking pictures and came bounding over to investigate. This was too much for the snake, who disengorged (is there such a word) the bird and slithered away without his kill. This I know/feel….a few seconds, one picture less, and I wouldn’t have disturbed while recording….another lesson in listening on the inside to Oneself while playing on the outside with Oneself.

Link to the Timeline for Transformation Series

The picture is a watercolor of the lighthouse on Race Rocks near Victoria on Vancouver Island with the Olympic Mountains in the background done by my husband Court.

Many of us have awakened by lifting the veil of forgetfulness and remembering who we really are; the more of us who lift and remember, the more of us who join us in remembering. A sense of waiting and anticipation that has pervaded my life has lifted in the last few years. I have known since a difficult childhood that my life, our lives together, could and would be different...if I had anything to do with it. Now profound gratitude accompanies the realizations that I have, you too, many of us have changed our personal world to better express our love of self. This encourages me again to new heights of self realization. What a delicious vicious circle!

Enter...Shelley Yates and let the holy doodling begin....on my birthday no less! Yes, I feel a sense of Goddess pointing her finger at me.

Most of my reading these days is online, not books. For a bookworm like myself that is a remarkable change, driven by the fact that I like reading fresh new material, a taste the internet caters to. There must be thousands of web and blog pages devoted to my favorite subject; our spirituality. On a daily basis our experiences and realizations are being pumped onto the information grid creating a new vibrational world as we go. No more the leisure of baby steps, we are striding like mature adults across the stages/changes of our lives.

In my reading yesterday, this phrase from Daniels Jacob's Timeline for Transformation series captured me. "The grid through which all images and information passes is made entirely of each individual's unique vibratory essence. Therefore, his reality always "looks like him."
http://www.reconnections.net/timeline_for_transformation3.htm

I found the article articulates and explains the attraction many have feel toward the Fire the Grid Project. http://www.firethegrid.com

Beauty Sleek Black Bruin

We got an eyeful of her this morning!

She returned in the full light of day, just after our breakfast. What a shiny black bruin, young and small, maybe female. Neither Court nor I got our shot. Court had passionately wished to see her, no wonder then that we did.

My camera was in it’s case…rare that…so while the bear stood to inspect the bell Court had hung on the wire cage that surrounds the bird feeding station, I fumbled getting the camera out. As I stood to shoot, Court shouted at her to stop her from touching the wire…she’s almost destroyed it once…he’ll be hard pressed to mend it if she squishes it again.

When I say neither of us got our shot...besides the bell on the bird cage, Court had wired the composter to give the bear a shock...which was why he wanted so passionately to see what happened. The bear was in the yard for long enough to tear boards off the old compost bins, we didn't hear that, before she wandered over to inspect the potential for bird seed for breakfast. The boobie traps were meant to wake us if she returned in the night.

On a lighter note...with the tiniest darting tongues, our tribe of hummingbirds, are sucking back a litre of nectar (fancy word for sugar water) a day.

Happy Victoria Day (in Canada)

This is the first long weekend for millions across Canada…may the spirit of rest and recreation through play be part of everyday, especially today.


I caught a beauty sunset photo last night from the ferry. I saw an eagles head silhouetted in the clouds,what do you see? On the drive home I spotted a small black bear…I doubt it was the same one who tore up the bird feeding station and then the black composter at the edge of the garden last night. No wonder Toledo has been so sketched out and waking us in the night. The bear was back while we ate breakfast so we’re going to have to move the composter. Bears are notorious for returning to anyplace they found a crumb to eat.

No sooner was the bear commotion sorted out than a pair of does we haven’t seen in months showed up. I’ve named the picture I got of them…Two Faces of Innocence. One of them is looking directly at us, the other is peeking out coyly, neither of them are taking the bad vibes we’re throwing at them seriously, not even after Court takes a sling shot out and hits one.




A spontaneous eruption of people gave us opportunity to barbeque some burgers and celebrate the day together. Our good friend Walter, of no fixed address because he lives aboard a 50 foot hand made aluminum sailboat has returned after a eight month voyage. His stories of sailing alone from La Paz at bottom of the Baja of California north to his home port of Lund would grey the average person’s hair in one season, he does it yearly and all the hair is gone. It’s always with a sigh of relief and a dose of excitement that I see Walter at the door.

A Mother Earth Day Discovery

I was reminded last night to keep a visual of carrying/gestating our beautiful green and blue planet under my shirt ever present in my days, I find such is already so. Without effort an invisible crystalline globe made Herself known, She has been with me since I first became aware of Her. While it isn’t necessary to have a conscious awareness of Her presence for my intention to serve as a Doulas of Peace, I feel immediately that holding consciously to that image magnifies and strengthens my intention to serve.

We went in an unusual direction for our daily walk yesterday and came upon a disturbing circumstance. One of our close neighbors owns a hundred and twenty acre property, an exquisite piece of land that hasn’t been much altered by logging and development since being awarded to the first settlers in the early 1900’s. During the extreme wind storms last autumn when trees fell like crazy dominos, the eighty something year old resident of the acreage was without electric power for a week. The lines feeding power onto the property were caught up in the maelstrom of tree debris and had been jury rigged to work until such a time as it was possible to properly clean up the disastrous situation. We have listened to the sounds of logging equipment coming to us across the small lake between our property and that one for a week now; it was to satisfy our curiosity that we headed in the unusual direction.

As we approached the property I immediately sensed that much life, the winged ones and four leggeds big and small had been displaced; how could it not be so when a small forest had been stripped of branches and laid in piles on the ground. The devas (spirit beings) of forest and pond were on the move as well. As we walked further into now nude acreage I was struck by the powerful lay of punguent brown earth that has been exposed. The other scents added an intoxicating blend of cedar, pine, hemlock, and alder notes. As we walked I took pictures of this new/old landscape, and several pictures of the one machine that has caused so much change in such little time.

Instead of continuing as usual down the road to the main house spirit took us down a long passed over side road. A couple of hundred yards down this road is a garbage dump over flowing with thirty years of household debris from old appliances through paint cans and building supplies that had obviously set aside to be used, now lost to the overgrowing rain forest. Where the logging show we had walked through had an unsettling effect for being so raw and new, this extremely irresponsible display of human waste shocked me. I took no pictures but turned and walked away repulsed.

For all that hundreds of trees lay on the ground, there wasn’t an air of disaster around the logging show, it is early enough spring to lessen the damage as much as possible to the wild ones and held a spirit of improvement and new promise. The garbage dump on the other hand felt dank and gloomy and life stifling for all that it sat barely out of sight of the logged area under the same bright sunshine. As I write this now I find the desire to follow the spirit promptings of one of last nights Vessels of Peace meditation to “kiss the Mother and make it better” instead of walking away repulsed. I will place a small crystal offering within reach of the deva of that part of the forest.

I will also kindly ask the family who own the land to clean up the illegal garbage dump.

Show and Tell

The updated picture of Paige and I was taken with the new camera on a tugboat trip over to Savary Island. Our visit together was blissful, filled with lots of sunshine and rainshine, walks in the forest, visits to the harbour, tours of the gardens. Our great time together started the day with a bowl of porridge that got bigger everyday. Along with brown sugar and raisins, the porridge was served with a large dose of all the time in the world to spend playing. If there is a limit on Paige's ability to learn through non stop play it was one we shared at the end of every day...a rock solid sound night's sleep that insured another good day ahead.

Wild Hawgs and The Secret

I've been reading the book the Secret...remind me in the future...always read a book before forming an opinion and reviewing it. After thirty some years of reading metaphysical literature I was prepared to be bored, maybe find myself in disagreement. It's a great book...it isn't the marketing campaign that is making the book so successful.

The Secret bears testament to the fact that we create our reality while it describes the tools that we create with. The intention of the Secret is nothing less than improving the lives of every being on this planet and I now believe the mass consciousness is being uplifted by being saturated with it's presence.

The truth that our passionate authentic being is being supported by the Universe has long been veiled on this planet and I am delighted that the truth is available in such a clear and straightforward format as this book (and movie that I haven't seen). Like all truth, it can be twisted, that is an individual choice.

I've started visiting another forum at Divine Cosmos.
www.divinecosmos.com/forums/index.php
I have found the work of it's creator David Wilcock thought provoking, entertaining and well written. It shouldn't take as much time to get familiar with the people and environment...it looks more user friendly than the NDW site...being moderated actually creates a more intimate feeling I think.

We just saw the hilarious enough to make you piss your pants movie Wild Hawgs...if you like wet pants...I recommend it.

It's rained itself out...I am happy and grateful no matter what its doing out there but that sunshine tends to put an easy smile on my face.

Spring Primroses

It’s all about the spring gardens. We’ve worked together to plant an apple tree and a plum tree, both dwarf varieties. These trees will have to be surrounded with a wire fence to keep the deer from feasting on the young bark and leaves.

The Holy Toledo has just returned from a complete inspection of the freshly disturbed soil and the new inhabitants. He sees every newly dug patch of ground as the fulfillment of his fondest dreams and is very effusive in his praise…read that...he’s rolling around like a chicken taking a dust bath. I wish I could catch a picture but he becomes stand offish when I bring the camera out.

As I sit writing the sound of hummingbirds fills the air. The first hummer knocked at the window next to the feeders traditional spot looking for nectar on March 27th. Over the last weeks the tribe has arrived en masse. There are two dozen and more of these warrior birds vying for nectar at our one feeder now. It’ll take two feeders to handle the onslaught when their chicks start feeding in July before they leave. The trees, bushes, clothes line and wisteria arbor serve as hummingbird shelter while two to six birds feed from the four openings. The females with their more muted plumage will feed together without a ruffle between them. Younger males will share space with females; fully mature males use the sound of their flight, their beaks and high whistles to intimidate other males and unrelated females away so he will often feed alone. Between the feeder and the surrounding gardens full of hummer friendly blooms we nurture a new generation of hummers every year.

The growing spurt of spring is strong; I am caught in the waves and feeling some trepidation about being in a trough with great heights of water above my head. Then I am heightened and steadying myself against sticking to the sky. These surges of energy bring up memories of seasickness and my stomach wavers with nausea. Postcard like scenes of my life with bubble descriptions of what we’re looking at, have come up repeatedly as I’ve read this book about writing (Spirit Writing by Lynn Andrews). Scenes with bad feelings and their conclusions, or not, it is a choice.

The stained glass pieces in the picture above were a gift from a favorite student, some of her first glass on concrete work.

Blessed Are the Children

The meaning of some childhood events with their accompanying thoughts and feelings are just now beginning to come clearly into focus. That in itself is fascinating. I can feel myself around six years of age quivering with emotion and shock while I’m thinking…it doesn’t have to be like this, it shouldn’t be like this…why are you doing it like this?

When Tina the mother would act reprehensibly in my child eyes, usually by physically beating on a childs body, not always but mostly my own, I would see/feel/think how different the scenario might/could play out.

Now as an adult I see that I started channeling/hearing my higher self or oversoul at that young age as a knee jerk save yourself from doing a header response to a dire situation. In other words, I heard a soothing angel like voice in my head telling me quite clearly that what was happening would not always be so, should not be so. As a child I interpreted that information within the confines of a childs understanding of the world. It was because I knew that such (specifically corporeal punishments) need not be so that I was able to suffer through the painful chaos of childhood. I aimed myself toward being a grown up who wouldn’t do what was being done to me.

Blessed are the children like me who had a ruler sitting on their school desk for eight years that said “DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE THEM DO UNTO YOU”.

How Are We Feeling?

I'm feeling larger than myself,and awkward with the cumberssome new size. The sensation has a more metaphysical aspect/sensation than a physical one. I have felt it was the result of the general awakening and energizing that is happening with the Planet and her inhabitants. Last night while playing with the feeling I pushed to see if I could find the end of me. In a few short seconds I felt myself so huge so fast I was vaguely physically nauseated by the experience. I let go the expanded version of self and was immediately comfortable. I played further, expanding for slightly longer each time before receding at the slight discomfort. I slept like a baby afterward.

A wordlessness and an ability to drop into meditative daydreaming states has accompanied this expanded feeling in size. I have long felt and been able to consciously manipulate my auric body to some degree. When my last son was born I had developed an understanding of reality that allowed me to communicate with him via eye contact and the movement of my auric body. If he started fussing as a baby because he was hungry, I had only to intend to feed him and he would be quieted.

The confirmation (for myself) of my ability to consciously manipulate my auric body was a serendipitous event. When I had the opportunity to have my picture taken via Kirilian photography in 1988 I had only to look at the people around me in the crowd at the psychic fair, and their photos, to jump at the idea. (I was then and remain convinced from what I saw in pictures and from my own intuitive readings of many of the people that day that over consumption of alcohol dead-ends or diminishes one’s aura.) When it was my turn with the photographer I began saying my favorite prayer while he fussed with his equipment. Instead of only smiling on the outside, I had decided to play with it and see if the prayer I was saying that made me feel good would show as a smile on my inside.

It was more serendipity that misplaced the picture that was taken that day. The colors of my aura were not only beautiful, with a well balanced representation of colors I found very attractive, its size had not been completely captured and it was chopped off at the top of the photograph. I felt it proved that I had been able to expand my aura larger than the photographer usually captured around people. The psychic doing the readings of the photographs confirmed what I knew, she had words for my feelings.

After seeing that picture I often played with babies when the opportunity showed itself in public, under sixteen months were the most responsive, by pushing what I thought of as white light out the top of my head with a love note attached. Parents in restaurants were inevitably amazed to have their child giggling and radiantly returning my wordless interest in them.


It seems natural to ask myself how we are feeling, a clear indication of feeling larger than one. I envision myself as a Doulas of Peace holding a peace bubble under my shirt...like a metaphysical pregnant belly. This sensation is abetted by the ten pounds that I've gained in the two months since I walked away from thirty six years of slavery to a nicotine addiction.

P.S. Here's a good source of information about our metaphysical journey...
http://www.reconnections.net/index2.htm

The Vessels of Peace

I had returned home from a tumultuous trip into the interior of B.C. in November 2006 and there was a lot to do to keep my mind from the circumstances that had created the unrest. One of many emails caught my attention with the phrase...Vessels of Peace. I had joined several teleconference meditations with this group of women, and this was another invitation. The Vessels of Peace are a loosely knit group of women spread across the North American continent and are the heart child of Lynda Terry. There is no admission criteria other than a heart felt desire to be there. I'll share a letter I wrote after my first call with the group.

Beloved Ones,

As I said on the call, words are insufficient to the task of capturing the full extent of what happens to one of us, much less all of us during such tele gatherings. In metaphysical terms the glow of energy around my heart chakra expanded...in physical terms this has created a wonderful large warm glow across my chest to match the smile on my face.

One evening thirty years ago, high above the city lights of Montreal I sensed my/our existence as being interconnected through spiderweb grids or networks of light comparable to those we see marching along a street at dark. That feeling increased my sense of the wonder of All That Is, and challenged every belief system I had created about myself as a separate from everything else being.

These last thirty years have been spent unravelling those beliefs. As I have recapitulated the childhood events and the cultural and religious influences behind my beliefs, I have experienced the reality of "no-time". As the Spirit of Forgiveness was given space within my being to grow, I discovered with every "forgiveness" I bestowed upon myself or another, there was really no need for forgiveness. It was as if the sponsoring event had been changed and what had been "painful" uncomfortable energy had become deeply and unfathomably filled with the love of new understanding. In other words, after genuine forgiveness comes a realization...there was never anything to forgive in the first place.

These years have been filled with teachers, visible and otherwise, assisting me in remembering who I really am. Through the mirrors of authors like Lynn Andrews of the Medicine Woman/Sisterhood of the Shield series, and Brooke Medicine Eagle "Buffalo Woman Comes Singing" I reconnected with the Divine Feminine energy that is my/our physical vessels birthright.
Thirteen years ago a vision quest experience on Blacktail Ranch in Montana led by Brooke Medicine Eagle culminated in an adoption ceremony into the Lakota tribe and my name, Honors the Gentle Breathe of Spirit. A commitment to an act of beauty came into my heart and a new reverence for our Great Mother endowed me with the courage and strength to open my voice and sing the Mothers praises.

To bring this energy into an everyday context...through these years of study and personal growth I raised a family as a mostly single mother. The rediscovery and new respect for feminine energy meant I could literally offer my three sons a choice of which side of me they would prefer to talk with about a situation. They could talk with the Mom side who would listen and look for ways to make the situation work for the good of the whole, or the Dad side who would offer the "because I said so" energy. That tool worked wonders in keeping me conscious of the choice, and needless to say the boys loved the option.

In the last year I became aware of a need to find a group of humans with whom I resonate and with whom I can pray from the depths of my being. I share a small part of my story with you by way of explaining the depth of my eternal gratitude to the Vessels of Peace for being such a group of humans. I am honored in having my wishes fulfilled beyond my wildest dreams. The unconditional acceptance that I sensed as I entered the Vessels of Peace circle was palpaple, very much a homecoming.
Thank you for creating and holding this Divine space.

I share this letter by way of introducing you to the next stage of growth and to invite you to join us on our journey as Doulas of Peace.

Dear Vessels of Peace Community,

The first month of Doulas for Peace meditations have completed. Month two begins with our meditation on Sunday, April 1st, and continues on April 8th, 15th, 22nd and 29th. (Call details, plus two other brief announcements, follow this message.)

We meet on these calls to honor the miracle now unfolding An expansion of peace consciousness has been conceived and implanted - and now grows within the global womb. The outward signs of this miracle still are minimal; much may seem unknown, tenuous, fragile. That’s how it is in the first trimester, and that is why trust and surrender are essential.

At this stage, we can be tempted to run to the store for the pregnancy kit, to “test” whether this really is so; to run to the doctor to make sure all is OK and find out a due date. We forget there was a time when all women “just knew” these things; the Feminine whispered them into the ears of their hearts. Similarly, we may be tempted to have expectations about what the calls are “doing” or “should” be – and if those expectations seem not to be met, we may feel confused, ambivalent, or impatient with the experience. Part of us wants to be excited and happy; part of us is feeling queasy, tired and overwhelmed. Just like the early weeks of pregnancy, yes?

We gently invite you to be kind to yourself and open to the journey. Those of us facilitating the calls have no superior insight or understanding; we are feeling our way just as you are, just as the whole world is right now. What we can say, however, is that trusting and surrendering to the process helps – a lot! And so does the affirmation, each week, that we are not alone; there are other women on the call (and tuning in via intention), who are holding the space with and for us. Know that we are so grateful for your presence and support.

Peace & Love from the Vessels of Peace Core Circle: Sophie Richmond, Karen Latvala, Julie Heyman, Christina Brewer

Doulas for Peace: Holding Space for Birthing
a Global Evolution in Peace Consciousness
Every Sunday evening from now until early December
Time: 6pm PT/7pm MT/8pm CT/9pm ET
Phone number: 1-712-775-7000; Pin: 408488#
No reservations necessary




Members of the VoP Core Circle as well as Vessels of Peace founder, Lynda Terry, take turns serving as facilitators. Each meditation is slightly different, as we follow the guidance for what the Sacred Feminine wants of us.
Each call lasts no more than 45 minutes, including 30 minutes of meditation, and you do not have to take part in every call in the series. Join us when you can and/or as guided.
The line will be muted during the meditation and unmuted after the meditation, for those desiring to share.
If you have questions or comments, email Karen Latvala at 719-942-4758 or karenlatvala@co-isp.com. Or visit the Vessels of Peace website’s Doulas for Peace page at: http://www.vesselsofpeace.com/doulas
Also remember, that if you can't join us on Sundays, the last meditation recording is available at 1-641-985-5009; Access Code is 408488#.

To SUBSCRIBE, email list@vesselsofpeace.com with subscribe as the subject. Please also put your name, email address, and city/state in the message. To UNSUBSCRIBE, send an email to the same address with unsubscribe as the subject. Your information will never be shared with anyone, nor will this email list be shared, sold or otherwise provided to anyone.

www.vesselsofpeace.com

Happy Day, Happy Days

Blogging is a distraction. Writing stories about my experiences in nature has been an exquisite form of procrastination. Picking up Moonbeams has been haunting me.

My middle son Jarod is twenty nine years old today. We arrived in B.C. he and I on May 4th, 1978 when he was a month old. Today he is 6’5”, father of a beautiful three year old daughter Paige, and partner to a wonderful woman Jeannette. These are my blessings and I love counting them, holding them close to my heart. When I close my eyes the eyelids act as screens for images of their faces.