Asamee Blog

Snow on July Fourth!

2006-07-05T00:12:00.002-06:00

by White Feather

That's right, you read that title correctly. We had snow today on the Fourth of July--two weeks after the summer solstice! Mind you, we didn't have snow here in town--although that is a possibility at this time of year still--but rather we had snow on the mountaintops of the Sangre de Cristo range which we look up at to the south of town.

It began raining this afternoon just the second I left the house to walk to work. That has happened three times in the last five days. The clouds had been building for a few hours and it was getting darker and darker. I left the house to sprinkles and as I turned onto the sidewalk to head to work a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky to my right. The bone-shattering thunder followed just a second later.

It sprinkled on me the entire way to work. The wind was blowing like it was in a hurry to get somewhere fast; first, in one direction then another and then another. The wind, it seems had forgotten it's map. In the eight minute walk to work there must have been twenty dances of lightning and thunder and every one of them was a very close and intimate dance. Luckily, my toes were not stepped on.

I remember thinking, Why the hell did I bother washing my hair? Of course, this was the least of my thoughts.

The air was charged. The ground was charged. I could feel the trees and plants reacting to the barometric giddyup. There were no birds nor squirrels anywhere. Where the hell did they go? Like many of the businesses today, the flowers were all closed up.

I was only partially drenched when I got to work. There is nothing like showing up for work wet.

Five minutes later it was raining buckets, and I mean gigantic, enormous, humongous buckets! God-sized buckets. It's like God tore a big huge gash in her waterbed. It got so dark the street lights came on. Everything came to a stop. It was a deluge, a cloudburst, a gullywasher. And it was absolutely beautiful!

Anyway, it only lasted about twenty minutes and afterwards everyone went back to work. It's one of those events where all activity stops for twenty minutes. It's something that escapes no one's attention. It is one of Ma Nature's most exciting attention grabbers. Oh, and it feels so good to the body, too.

So I go on working and the rain stops and eventually the clouds move on (on their way to Kansas). The clouds also empty off the mountains. About 40 minutes later I happened to look out the window (which faces south toward the majestic Sangre de Cristo mountain range) and I see that all the clouds are off the mountain and I see that the tops of the mountains were covered with a new and seemingly thick layer of snow.

Wow! This is not a rare phenomenon. Snow on the mountains in the middle of summer usually happens once or twice or thrice each summer. It's not that unusual around here and I've witnessed it every summer for the last fourteen years yet it still manages to freak me out and fill me with joyful glee. To look at those mountains with new snow on them in July is a very special thing and I feel very privileged.

These mountains are over 14,000 ft. in altitude (sorry, I don't know how many millimeters that is). The snow appeared to be from 10,000 ft. up. The town sits at a little over 7,000 ft., which, to most people, is like being at the tippy-top of a high mountain. But we are actually at the bottom of a valley looking up 7,000 ft. at 14,000 ft. mountains. Seeing the tops of these mountains covered in snow on the Fourth of July is very special. To outsiders it's some kind of freak phenomenon but to locals it's something we look forward to experiencing each year. It's actually part of what connects us to these vibrational coordinates.

The snow, by the way, melted in about an hour and a half--which is about normal for this time of year.

Copyright © 2006, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. Books by White Feather

Bird's Nest

2006-03-22T20:22:00.000-07:00

The Tuning of Instruments

2006-01-03T21:54:00.002-07:00

by White Feather

Imagine being a part of a symphony orchestra. You can play any instrument you want. At home, you practice for endless hours on your instrument and your part in the great symphony and then you practice with the orchestra for countless hours putting all the parts together. It is a truly grand symphony and it is technically very challenging. But your orchestra has been invited to perform the symphony in a far off city at the grandest symphony hall on the planet. It is the highest achievement to be asked to perform at this grand hall. The acoustics at this hall were said to be divinely perfect.

So you put a lot of effort into learning your part and perfecting the performance. You've heard a lot about this grand hall; about how the sound is magnified and seems to reverberate right down to the bones. Music was felt at many more levels in this grand hall than anywhere else. People left the performances in tears, feeling rejuvenated, electrified, and seriously uplifted. It was said the more beautiful the music performed there, the more it was felt at all those levels. Music, in this grand hall, was a divine act of expression that forever left a mark of beauty on the universe.

Naturally, you and your orchestra mates are very excited about getting to perform in this magnificent hall. Each of you tries harder than you ever have to get your part perfect. You look forward to the event with great anticipation and a little nervousness. It's all so overwhelming you hardly believe it's happening to you. During rehearsal of the symphony you can almost feel like you are there but nothing will be like what it feels like to actually be there in that great hall playing your heart out. You try to imagine it even though you know it will far surpass your imagination. Can something really be that grand?

You practice and practice and practice until you can feel that symphony with your every movement. You hear it in your dreams and you hear it in the back of your head even when you're surrounded by noise. It follows you around all day and night, nagging you to get it perfect; to feel it with all your being. You walk around feeling like you are a vessel through which this entity (the symphony) is wanting to pass through. And you want to be the perfect vessel through which the symphony can be expressed.

The symphony is like a child growing in one's womb. It grows and grows and grows and then finally it is expressed. The performance in the grand hall will be like a birth; the perfect expression of life, the creation of love, joy, and beauty.

In the ninth month you are excited, nervous, anxious, thrilled, scared... Then suddenly it is time to go. You get your pre-packed overnight bag and head out the door. You also pick up your instrument. Your water has already broken. You get in the car and drive to the hospital. As you get out of the car you suddenly realize you are wearing your formal performance clothes and you're carrying your instrument. You look up and you see that you are about to enter the fabulous grand symphony hall. You are filled with an incredible joy and excitement as you walk the red carpet towards the front doors. This is the biggest moment of your life. You enter the front doors, pass through the giant lobby, then you go through some more doors and suddenly you are there! You are in the grand symphony hall! It utterly takes your breath away. You stop to take it all in then you slowly walk down toward the orchestra to take your seat.

We have arrived. We are now in the grand symphony hall. It is time for us to take our seats and begin playing the most beautiful symphony of all time.

Feeling the Halt

2005-12-25T09:55:00.002-07:00

by White Feather

The solstice was absolutely fantastic for me--and quite different. This year I decided to forego all ritual and ceremony and experience the solstice in a completely passive way. I decided to surrender to the solstice, allowing it to envelope me. I wanted to feel the solstice without any thought involved. Pure feeling. That's how I wanted to connect.

At the time of the solstice I was at work and I was incredibly busy and I wasn't thinking about the solstice at all. And then suddenly as I was walking across the room it happened. I felt a little ping in my chest that waved out through my body. I lasted about two to three seconds. It was like a strange sort of electrical thing and it was followed by a feeling of lightness. It felt like a release of tension. It was a very evident change in vibration.

That's when I stopped and turned around to see the clock and it was the very time of the solstice. Now that was cool! I actually felt the solstice! That feeling of lightness has been with me ever since. For the rest of that work day I kept experiencing occasional bouts of euphoria. And I kept thinking, "Ah, the days will now be getting longer!" I proclaimed several silent hallelujahs.

That morning I had noted the sunlight coming in the kitchen window and hitting the refirgerator. It's just a thin shaft about an inch and a half wide. And it only occurs right at sunrise and lasts only about 15 minutes. That shaft will now begin widening and my kitchen will once again be filled with sunlight. By the summer solstice in June the kitchen will be ablaze with sunshine for six hours each day. It's a very different room depending on the season.

Instead of windows, someday I'd like to live in a glass house where the whole house is a window. Wouldn't that be cool?

Pretending

2005-12-13T07:56:00.002-07:00

by White Feather

Everywhere one goes, everywhere one looks, the vibration of unconditiional love is present. One cannot escape it. It is so pervasive all things are filled with it.

Uncondiitonal love is so pervasive we don't notice it, much like we do not notice the air that we breathe. With air one does not notice it except by its absence. So we try to notice unconditional love by trying to create an absence of it, or distortion of it. Of course, unconditional love is still there but we mask it in order to become more aware of it. By pretending it is gone we realize how truly pervasive it is; how intensely and profoundly it permeates all existence. By pretending it is out of our reach, we reach for it. By pretending we are not worthy of unconditional love, we can eventually see our own divine importance. Unconditional love is so pervasive we cannot truly understand it without imagining its absence.

So I dare you to find hidden places where there is no unconditional love. I dare you to find people who are not filled with unconditional love. I dare you to find situations not filled with unconditional love. You may think you can find them but you will not. Everything you can come up with, no matter how seemingly lacking in unconditional love it appears, has unconditional love coursing through it.

Everything! At the core of every place, person, or situation there is unconditional love. If there is not, then those places, persons, or situations would not exist. Unconditional love is what enables all things to exist and therefore all things are imbued with that unconditional love. For us, it is a matter of becoming aware of that.

Walking on Water

2005-09-23T22:40:00.001-06:00

by Ancient Bear

The young Indian boy is sitting at the edge of the river, huddling himself. His thin body is shuddering with a grief that is beyond measure. He can feel the weight of the past few months pressing down on him, threatening to shatter his soul. Desperately, he stares into the water, trying to remember how to calm himself with the water’s flow, but to no avail. Memories spear into his consciousness like a jagged mirror. The screaming, the smell of burning flesh, the gazeless stare of empty eyes.

How could these last few months of battling the winter be all in vain? Had he not tried his utmost to keep the last promise to his mother, to keep his sister safe? Had all the sacrifices in the mountain, the prayers to the ancestors, the cold nights without fire been for nothing? He knows that they will be looking for him, that he will receive a lashing and spend another night without food for trying to run away. His body is blue and bruised, and aching from the previous beating. ‘I don’t even care, ‘ he thinks to himself. His sister being taking away was like somebody bleeding the last drop of blood left in his body.

He remembers a happier time. Bouncing on his father’s shoulder, shouting with laughter instead of pain. ‘You lied to me!’ he shouts at the river. ‘You told me I will always be safe, that I can even walk on water if I wished…’ tears start rolling down his cheeks. ‘…if I so believed…Well, I don’t, so there you have it.’ With his last bit of strength, fuelled by anger, he rips the stone hanging from a leather chain off his neck, and throws it into the water.

To his amazement, the stone doesn’t sink. It starts bouncing off the water, bouncing higher with every jump. On the fourth bounce, the stone transforms and turns into a black eagle, with a white crescent head. It was the largest eagle the boy has ever seen. The span of the wings was as long as the span on the arms of a grown man.

The eagle went flying directly at the boy, sweeping him up with one graceful stroke of wing.

A few hours later the soldiers searched by the river looking for the boy. They found his lifeless body at the water’s edge. ‘He’s a gonner,’ the soldier said, kicking the body to make sure. However, when he looked at the boy he felt strangely disturbed. The boy, despite being dead, had the most angelic smile, and in his hand he was holding a single feather.

* * *
Anger did not leave the boy. He spent several miserable lifetimes in Europe, drowned in decadence and sorrow. Finally, after much misery, he was able to face his Higher Council. He didn’t know if he would have the strength for the task he undertook. When he was born into that chosen lifetime, it was literally kicking and screaming.

* * *
The girl that he incarnated to reminded him so much of his younger sister. He only realized that later in the lifetime. She was able to talk to fairies, and she knew how to make contact with animal spirits and beings of light, such as angels. He did not accept these gifts readily, however. Stuck like thorns in the remnants of his memories, he still angrily remembered that these gifts did not save them from being separated.

She would be the feminine energy that would ebb away the anger. Slowly and gracefully, like water moving over rocks, delicately smoothing away the rougher edges.

He would, however, not be free until he faced his darkest demon. The father he chose for that lifetime was the same soldier who led the army against his tribe, the first to rape his mother. The man’s spirit was still filled with hatred, and the boy suffered a severe childhood under his hand with drunkenness and abuse.

The boy was never able to feel any human love for the man. But, when he stood on the earth, his feet solidly planted, he could feel the love and compassion that the earth has for every living soul, permeating his body and his mind. With full knowledge of his past, including all the injustices of this life and the previous life-times, he was able to look at the man, and not only forgive, but flow with earthly and divine love. Only then was he finally set free. Light enough to walk on water.

* * *
Without thinking much, the boy walked back to the river from where he came. The eagle was still there, waiting for him. He climbed on the eagle’s back, and when they flew over the mountain, the seasons moved backwards. Winter turned to autumn, warmed into summer, and melted into spring.

It was a fragrant spring night that the eagle landed with the boy, putting him down close to the tribal village. He could see the home-fires blazing, and smell the wonderful aromas of dinner. He knew that the women of the village would have been conspiring, trying out all kinds of new roots and berries to make sauces to go with the evening meal.

He knows that when he reaches the village, one of the women will ask: ‘Where have you been, lazing around down by river? Tut, tut, time to do your chores around here.’ And then his hair will be ruffled affectionately.

Most of all, he was looking forward to after supper, when there would be singing and dancing around the fire, and when everyone will gather with their stories to be told. There will be happy stories and sad stories, stories of wisdom and stories of teaching.

He clutches the feather he is still holding in his hand. ‘That is so you could find your way home,’ the Eagle told him.

His heart swells with warmth. Tonight, he also will have a story to tell.

A Serpent's tail

2005-09-16T23:13:00.002-06:00

As told by the Priestess Maharah of the Temple Kaiish

Narrated by Ancient Bear

I was born the last child of an ancestral trail of Egyptian Royal lineage. I was born on a lazy summers’ day, the sky a burning blue and the sun intensely red.

My father could not manage to hide his disappointment, much as he tried. After fathering six girls, he was hoping that the magical number seven would be a son, to continue studying the ancient art of priesthood. After me, it was not possible for my mother to conceive again.

I remember a happy childhood, with few cares, as my parents were rich and had many servants. That was, mostly carefree until the age of 10, when I befriended a solemn young boy, and my life took a strange path from where there was no escape.

From the moment I met him, no telling how, I knew that he would be the great love of my life, but also my downfall. He was older than me by two years, and promised to the life of priesthood. He did not feel obliged to that life, however, as he wanted to do nothing else.

When he reached his age of puberty, he was sent to the School for Young Initiates. During the week, he had to remain at the school, but he was allowed to go home for one day, once a week. Young Initiates were sworn to secrecy, and not allowed to speak of any of the teachings that they received, as the ancient art of priesthood is very sacred, and not to be talked about.

It may have been that the secrecy was too much for his tender soul to carry, but after his first visit, I discovered that, if I stayed focused and quiet, I could hear the soft language of his thoughts. Outwardly, we were playing innocent childhood games, but inwardly, we were discussing the teachings, the often unnecessary brutality of the discipline, and the loneliness he experienced at the School.

He loved spending time with me, because he could unwind and reflect on all the things that were happening in his life. Although I knew with certainty that I loved him, he regarded me only as a good friend.

Swiftly, the years passed, and his nineteenth birthday was to arrive. On that day, he will be initiated as a Full Priest, able to mummify bodies, call up spirits, heal with wands and commune with sacred animals like snakes and cats. There were also many other secret rites that I will not be able to share with you yet.

It was close to my seventeenth birthday, and finally able to let my thick black hair hung loose around my shoulders, and not tied up in thin braids. I was wearing a soft white dress, draped around me and tied with a golden chord, an orchid stuck in my hair.

When he looked at me that day, it was as if he’d seen me for the first time. I knew in that moment that he loved me as I loved him, but our love was not meant to be. Priests lived a life of celibacy, and stayed mostly in isolation in the Temple. I will never know his kiss.

When he left, and because of his feelings for me, he sent me a message with a servant that he will not be able to see me anymore, and that I should not visit the Temple where he lived. I cried for three days. I have not yet mastered the skill to listen to thoughts over distances, as I’ve only done this when we played together. I lost all contact with my love.

* * *

I never intended to use any of the skills he taught me, as our time together was not spent for that purpose. I just loved him, loved to be with him, and loved to listen to his thoughts.

One day, however, one of the older women-servants, who was very dear to my heart, accidentally almost cut off her finger while preparing the meat. She went running out of the kitchen (although I want to call it the slaughter-house) in near hysterics. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand, pieced the loose flesh of her finger back in its place, and with a single phrase was able to heal her.

She backed off me as if she’d seen a ghost. ‘How did you do that? She gasped. ‘Get away from me, you evil child!’ Despite the fact that we both tried to hide what happened, the word of my healing powers got out. Secretly, servants and slaves would visit my chamber, and effortlessly I will heal them using the information I received from listening to my love’s thoughts.

A thing like that, however, could not be kept secret forever. Eventually the word reached my father, who had no choice but to ban me from the house. I left on my nineteenth birthday.

I walked for three days, determined to die. Eventually I found a lovely green pasture with lush trees. This will make for a good burial ground, I thought. I prepared a space underneath a tree, and went to lie down with no intention of ever waking up.

A farmer who was living in the area was taking his cattle out to graze. When he saw the young girl sleeping underneath the tree, he immediately fell in love.

He could see that I was exhausted and worn from my journey, and he woke me up to give me some water. Sleepily and without thinking, I drank the water and replenished my energies.

Since I had no reason to lie, I told him the truth of what brought me to that place. He offered to look after me, and as he could not let a young girl just stay at his homestead, offered me his hand in marriage. My father, overjoyed that I didn’t die after all, rode out all the way for my marriage – although he will deny it till this day.

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I was not able to conceive any children. However, I continued with my healing work, as many people in the village knew about some of the slaves and servants that I helped previously. The farmer whom I married, a shrewd businessman by nature, asked for money or gifts in return for the acts of healing – although, never more than anybody could afford to give.

I never gave much thought to the money, until one day he asked me what I would like to do with money that he has saved up. I was very surprised, thinking he must have spent it all.

‘Build me a temple’, was my reply. Which he did – he proceeded to build me a beautiful, dome-shape temple made of large sandstone rocks. It was built on the top of a hill that was next to a waterfall, that flowed into a natural pond. The roof of the temple had a circle shaped out, so that the sunlight can fall through into a natural, sacred circle of light. ‘I will call the temple Kaiish,’ I said, ‘which means ‘Circle of Light.’

* * *

For the first time in my life, I felt truly happy. However, the first rite I performed was to summon the spirit and incarnation of my Twin Spirit, whom I’ve always known to be the priest I loved. We have not seen each other for 10 years, and yet, it was as if we were never separated. We swam in the pool, and held each other in embrace for a minute, although it seemed like an eternity.

This rite caused me great joy, but my Twin Spirit great pain, because for the first time he could imagine what it would have been like if we had been together. I didn’t perform that rite for myself again.

His sadness caused a rift to grow between us, and the energy fields that sustained our love became heavy with tears. Our joint pain because of this separation, had caused both of us to start manipulating and misusing our powers. I didn’t realize at the time that separation is merely an illusion.

Although I still performed many acts of healing, I also started to practice some dark arts and some rites that go against the natural laws. One of these rites caused the early death of the farmer who was my husband. Even this tragedy could not prevent me from lusting more and more after the darkness. I was falling down a dreadful pit; eating the serpent’s tail. I did not believe that the darkness I’ve sunk into had any ending, but when I eventually hit the floor, I could hear the sound of my own scull cracking.

I overheard from some reliable sources that two priests were planning to kill me. I discovered that one of these priests were the man I loved. I could not allow this to happen, and decided to take my own life rather than face that humiliation.

I went to my temple where I summoned a deadly Cobra, but when the Cobra refused his poison, I cut off his head and sapped the venom from his fangs. The poisonous cocktail caused me to die instantly.

When I rose above my body, I was filled with dismay and deep remorse. What I have done, I could not undo. I could see the vista of my life, and know that I misspent the last few years. I had a beautiful temple, I had great gifts of healing, and yet I chose not to use them.

My love, the priest, came walking up the stairs to the temple. I gazed at him with sorrow and an aching heart, wishing to reach out and touch him once more. I did not even care that he was there to kill me.

Suddenly, a new knowledge filled me, and I was deeply shocked. I knew in that instant that he came to ask me to marry him, as he had left the priesthood. The final conspiracy of my death left him deeply disillusioned with the life of a priest. My grief was beyond measure. Allowing my life to be filled with darkness and pain, I forgot to listen to the soft language of his thoughts.

He wept when he found my lifeless body. Then he mummified my body, and made me the most beautiful golden mask to cover my face. He laid me down in the middle of the temple.

When he left, he sealed the temple so that nobody can enter, but the light of the sun by day, and the light of the moon by night. He left me so that the light can shine on my face, falling through the circle in the roof, like a third eye.

He did not return to the priesthood, but went to wander in the mountainous hills and caves until the end of his days on earth.

* * *

I can end my story here, like most stories would, but that will leave you, dear Reader, with the unnecessary ache of incompleteness.

When he lived in the hills, in that quiet space, finally our love started to grow. I joyfully fed him the first apples of spring; I looked lovingly at his face through the eyes of a deer. Every morning I sang to him with the voice of a dove.

I kissed him every day, for all the kisses that I missed, every time he cupped his hand to drink from the clear mountain spring. I offered my flesh; every time he ate a rabbit or pheasant, leaving him satisfied, and me as a part of him.

When finally he was ready to leave behind his physical body, I was there, ready to hold him in a sweet embrace. Our spirits joined as one, and rose up high above the clouds.
From that vista, we could see our past lives and future lives, sparkling like stars in the galaxy. We could see the creation and formation of the universe, expanding and contracting like a heartbeat.

And in-between that space, the quiet place between inhalation and exhalation, we are one. One with ourselves, one with each other, one with the universe. Separation a mere illusion.

Ancient Bear 699

Everything metaphysical. Joy Zone Bookstore

Book Announcement

2005-09-16T09:22:00.000-06:00

Our very own Joseph Babinsky has published a new book! Here is a brief synopsis. Click on the title link for ordering information:

Gentle River Flow, by Joseph Babinsky. ISBN 141164042x. "Gentle River Flow" is a collection of writings, from the sublime to the seeming mundane. Essays on the subject of truth are juxtaposed with writings of an experience driving through a desert storm, letters written to a friend on the subject of the origins of Christianity and brief articles written about the experience of star gazing. Further essays are about UFOs and on the experience of a past life regression. Additional subjects include writings on writers’ block, God-Talk, dreams, numerology, the human as a divine being, and stories about a stranger who reappears after a twenty year absence to help with a new aspect of a spiritual journey. The finished book offers the word picture of a river. There are places where the eddies are quite rough, and there are quiet pools where the water flows ever so gently. This is a book for casual reading and serious study containing many levels of awareness. "Gentle River Flow" is for the on-going spiritual journey and the expansion of human consciousness.

Book Announcement

2005-09-04T12:22:00.000-06:00

Our very own Trendle Ellwood has published a book! Here is a brief synopsis. Click on the title link for ordering information:

Ohio Homestead's Recipes & Recollections of a Season, by Trendle Ellwood. Embark on a journey through the four seasons of a market farmer/homesteader’s life. Join her as she taps trees for maple syrup and discovers the first snowdrops peeking through the snow in early spring. Walk alongside as she pursues the wild berry brambles of June and gleans the rustling cornfields in late autumn. Finally, snuggle in by the wood stove while the stew simmers during the cold of winter. In the pages of Ohio Homestead’s Recipes & Recollections of a Season, Trendle Ellwood brings us a taste of the challenges and a sampling of the joys of a life lived close to the heart of nature. She shares with us the hope that as in the seasons of the garden, likewise within the human heart, winter is destined to melt into spring.

Birdies and Babies

2005-08-02T20:11:00.002-06:00

by White Feather

Trees, trees, trees. Oh, the countless thousands of hours I've spent in this life contemplating trees--ever since I was knee high to a coon dog. Some may say that I am making it up, but I vividly remember my neighbor's weeping willow tree when I was 5 years old. Unlike my daughter, I can remember a lot of my early childhood. And a lot of those memories were actually connected with trees. From age 4 I remember my grandfather's cherry tree. He had placed me up in a branch. I held on for dear life with both hands. Eventually, I braved releasing one hand from the tree branch and reaching out to pick a cherry and eat it. Except for the fear, I was like a monkey in a tree. I ended eating so many cherries I got sick.

My daughter may not remember her early childhood but I sure do. And a certain tree suddenly comes to mind. It was a boxelder tree and it grew right outside the kitchen window of the cabin we were living in while my daughter was just under one year old. It was in Madrid, New Mexico just south of Santa Fe. Madrid was an old mining ghost town that had been reinhabited by hippies in the Seventies. In the Eighties, renegade artists and other social outcasts invigorated the ghost town. The population of humans was around 300 then but the animal population was far greater.

Living in the ghost town of Madrid (pronounced, MAD'-rid) was like living in the middle of a vibrant wildlife sanctuary. I've never in my life seen so many wild creatures of the desert. Especially birds; Madrid was on the migratory flight path of scores of exotic birds. I don't think I went a day in the five months we lived there without seeing at least one bald eagle.

But bald eagles were year-round residents. Other birds came up from Mexico and Central America on their northerly migrations. I saw yellow birds and red birds and blue birds and green birds. I saw birds I couldn't even begin to identify. It was weird to be in the American Southwest desert and see tropical birds. For me, it was like a little slice of bird heaven--and everyONE knows how weird I am about birds.

The daughter had finally given up the teat there in Madrid and I had taken over the mother duties. I was still pretty new at it. I sure was happy! My own little baby and a bunch of birds to boot!

That boxelder tree that grew just outside the kitchen window was the ideal place for birdwatching. You didn't even have to leave the house. With my beloved bundle of baby in my arms I merely had to stand at the kitchen window and watch all the birds congregate in that boxelder tree that seemed to grow right out of the side of the cabin. You could stand just a few inches on the inside of the window glass and, if you didn't move, the birds would all gather in the boxelder tree and chirp and socialize like crazy. At times it was louder than a political convention.

I spent many hours just standing there a few inches to the glass watching birds I had never seen before. It was like having an executive box seat looking into a whole different world. That bird world was like a whole 'nother dimension. It was like peering in on a different planet.

If you think humans are social creatures, I'm afraid I must inform you that birds are far more social than humanoids. Man, they've got an entire advanced civilization going on; one that most humans are oblivious to. That kitchen window box seat helped make me aware of it and I've never seen birds the same since. I don't remember who it was but some spiritual know-it-all once said that the chirping of birds is what holds up the hologram we know as reality; that if there was no chirping of birds our reality would collapse. I have come to believe--through almost a half-century of experience--that this is most emphatically true.

So anyway, there came a day when I was standing just inches away from the kitchen window looking out into the boxelder tree--my precious bundle of baby in my arms--and a freakish experience happened. I don't remember if I was walking the baby to get her ready for a nap or if we were just looking out the window. I do remember, to my surprise, that there weren't very many birds in the tree. There must have been a big get-together going on somewhere else in town; or so I thought. Normally, at that time of day, the boxelder tree was a veritable bird party. My daughter's attention would be immediately on all the birds. My daughter could point with her arm at some bird that tickled her fancy and the birds wouldn't budge. If I were to stick out my arm and point at a bird they would all take off en masse.

But there wasn't much going on. A few birds would arrive in the tree but they would immediately take off. Nonetheless, we continued staring into the tree in hopes of spying some bird we hadn't seen yet. And that's when it happened....

Suddenly, and I do mean suddenly, I was staring right into the face of a bull snake. The snake's head was just inches away from the glass and my daughter and I were just inches on this side of the glass. I don't know where it came from but it was just suddenly there right in front of my face.

Amazingly, I didn't freak out although I did take a step back. That's how long it took my brain to register the fact that there was glass separating the snake from myself and my baby. It's eyes were looking directly into my eyes--or at least that's how it seemed. It's tongue was darting in and out of its mouth at lightning speed. It's head was motionless hanging in the air just inches from the glass.

Fear rushed through me--especially in regard to my baby--but it quickly drained right through me. I took that one step back but then stopped, motionlessly staring right into the snake's eyes. We stared at each other for what seemed like a very long time. The only thing that moved was the snake's tongue.

I remember wondering what my baby was thinking about the snake, in fact I was wondering if she even saw it. But I didn't look at her. My stare could not be broken from the snake's eyes. I was mesmerized. If it was a stare-down contest, the snake won.

Finally, my eyes stepped back and I took in the bigger picture. Going from the snake's head my gaze followed the snake's body through suspended air until it reached a part of the body that was wrapped around a thick branch of the boxelder tree. My eyes followed the spiraling body of the snake down the branch to a lower branch. And then leaving the spiral was a long tail dangling in the air. It was a very fat snake. It's body was as thick as my upper arm. And no, my upper arms are nothing like those of Arnold Scwarzenegger but they're not skinny either. I don't think I could have put my hand around the body of the snake; it would have taken both hands.

I'm pretty sure that at this point I said to myself, "Holy sh!t!" I figured it was at least 5 to 6 feet long and it could easily have eaten a small dog for lunch. The head was as big as my clenched fist. And the colors! How could I have not seen it right there in front of my face? The colors and designs on the snake seemed to match the color and texture of the bark of the boxelder tree. It blended right in.

Of course, the birds seemed to notice. Perhaps that is why they were staying away from the tree. If I couldn't spot the snake until it was literally right in my face, how did those birds spot it before they even perched in the tree? Those birds! I reminded myself that I had never seen a bird wearing glasses.

So anyway, I stared at that snake for a seemingly infinte time. Almost to infinity and beyond. For me, it was darn near a religious experience staring so closely into those snake eyes for so long. I've never connected so deeply and intensely with a snake.

And then, suddenly, the snake backed away. It recoiled its head about 6 to 8 inches, stopping to look directly at me some more. Perhaps it needed a slightly different perspective. And then the snake abruptly started to slither down the tree. To do this, it spiraled down over its own body, which was slithering up the tree to a point where it turned and starting slithering down. The colors were like looking through God's kaleidoscope.

I stepped up close--right up to the glass--to see where the snake was slithering down to. To my horror, I watched the snake slither all the way down the tree and onto the ground. And then it went under the cabin!

For the next two months that we lived in that cabin I often wondered if that snake still lived under the cabin and if there was any way it could make it up through the foor. It never did, though. I never saw the snake again.

Go Up

2005-07-06T09:53:00.001-06:00

by easywriter

Go, you broken spirit, up into the granite hills, let the enduring rock beneath your feet teach you that they live. Rest, you wandering child, beside the water deep and still, let it show you how to be at peace. Go up, you weary ones, let the cool green forests be your temples and cathedrals, let the growing things teach you that we all need roots. Make the voices of the wild your hymns and psalms. Send your prayers to our Creator on the sweet smoke of your fire. Sleep upon the breast of our Mother Earth, close your eyes beneath our Father Sky. Go, you sorrowing soul, up into the granite hills and descend again renewed.

Holding On

2005-05-01T22:45:00.001-06:00

By Trendle Ellwood

Oaks are such a sturdy rugged tree. Some of them hold their leaves into the winters. They are never in a hurry to jump into spring, they clasp their buds tight and wait patiently until the days are sure to be warm before they gallop out to play. In this way they have always seemed old and mature to me, able to keep their silence; not running off with every little notion of spring, but waiting for the real thing. Mature, dignified; that is how Oaks always seemed to me.

I have always noted with interest a large old oak that I pass by on 22. This tree appears by its size and it’s gnarled bark to be quite old. Sometimes an old oak tree will be left standing in a field and it is so neat when they do because they get so big and present such an awesome presence. This certain Oak Tree has something else about it, which makes it noteworthy, and that is the fact that it has a serious lean.

No matter from which direction you look at it, it cannot be missed. The tree is topping over.

When my daughter and I drove by it for the first time after the rains this spring we exclaimed how much more bent over it seemed to be then ever. Although we were on a destination we slowed down and looked hard for signs of new growth on the tree and we were happy when we saw, Yes! little green-yellow leaves unfurling all over the huge tree.

I got out to visit with the tree a bit and I was greeted with a wave,

It seemed to me that in it's own silent way the tree had so much to say.

I walked up to the tree and I looked up into it's hollow and I took this picture.
Do you see the spirits and the faces that I see there?

Farm Market Opens Next Week and What Time Is It?

2005-04-17T10:47:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

Whoa! No! How can this be?! Where did winter go? It used to be that I would get tired of winter, but winter blew by in a moment it seems. Is it true what they say, that time will go faster and faster until it falls in on its self and is no more? What does it mean for time to be no more? It would be so wonderful to not have appointments, deadlines and alarm clocks, which all seem to be products of our trying to capture time.

I look at nature and I see that nature knows no time except for the change of the seasons and the warmth of the sun and the deliverance of the rains. There is no one telling the Bluebell that she must bloom at this certain time, on this certain day within this certain hour. No, the Bluebell blooms when the sun warms her just right and the raindrops delight her with their moisture just right and she blooms when she is just perfectly ready for her blooming. Without anyone looking at a wristwatch to see if she did it on time or to let her know her allotted amount of time for doing it.

Bluebells give in to the natural flow. Without clocks wouldn’t we be more able to do this? But yet people say how would we ever pay our bills on time, be to church on time, get our teeth done on time or well you know all these things that are done in timely fashions.

Well as much as I can wish that I was a Bluebell I am still me. I have to get my list written of things that have to be done by next Saturday. I have to label the honey and cream the honey. I have to make signs and I have to get started on the farm market newsletter questionaire and I have to run to the store to buy bags. I have to wash the market tables, bag up the candles and get change in the till. Where did winter go? Can anybody tell me?

The rhubarb is growing fast and the days are warm perhaps she will be big enough ON TIME to take to market. Gee I think I will just go outside and sit and look at the BlueBell Maybe she will be able to communicate to me how she gets away with not paying any attention to time.

Copyright © 2005, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Peter & Gabriel's Message, March 9, 2005

2005-03-09T18:31:00.001-07:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

This message was originally received on March 17, 2004

We have decided to share with you all on the subject of being in communion with your spirit. You are more than your physical bodies, you are also soul and you are spirit. Your spirit is the part of you that is not limited by time or space, it is not in a physical reality, although it participates in one, or more. Your spirit is the you that faces all other you’s, in the larger family of the whole one we all really are. Your spirit knows all. You need not seek your knowledge and ask questions outside of self, in truth you know all there is to know, for you are all that is. You are focused in this one aspect of self, in this dimensional reality, most always. When you seek to know the whole self you truly are, the whole one, you will expand your awareness in most wondrous ways. When you incorporate a knowing of your spirit, you know God, in your essence. God is many essences, and all essences are one in the heart of God. You are different and separate only because you perceive yourselves to be that way. How you are, is how you think you are. You think, and you are aware. You are sentient beings focused on a particular environment for growing your soul, expanding your awareness of being, and discovering more of yourself.

When you seek to rejoin with your spirit, at first you may find you are more able to be attuned to others. You may be more sensitive to the undercurrents of energy, more easily picking up on harmony and discord. Your spirit exists in all the dimensions and in unity consciousness. This does not mean you are an invisible blob of space dust light particles, as some might fear. No, you are all very much individual essences, that combine to form a whole one, which we would say is as the body of God. You are equally precious, special, and loved by the One who is the Source of All. You are also very unique and hold certain qualities of being in your essence. You may start to be more integrating of other focuses of your essence being, when you are in communion with your spirit, your song, your heart of hearts.

As you find yourself contemplating what is self, who are you, how many ways are you expressing the joy of you, you are giving yourself to yourself. Your spirits are the glimmering light you see within when you look upon self in the inner mind. Your light is a beginning spark, which may shine brighter or darker, according to your own choice. Your spirits are granted free will and all choices come with responsibility to self. Your souls function as a way to grow and evolve through experiences of incarnation. They store all that is you, and hold the record for you. Your spirit is ever expanding, and ever connected to all other spirits. Your spirit know the oneness, your souls record your experiences and understanding of it. Your physical forms are the self that many perceive as either all that exists, or inferior to your other states of being, at the soul level or in spirit. All is valuable, as you have created all of this to be experiencing and participating in. Your spirit is the part of you that, if you are choosing, shall guide you into even greater awareness of self through knowing all. If you ask another, you will receive light, information, which is filtered through that one. If you ask self, you are receiving the light information of self, which knows all other selves, all other spirits, and the one spirit. Which do you choose? Trust self, the one that is the light and seeks to inform, uplift, and carry onward and upward. Trust not the self that seeks to keep one in states of fear, in doubt, in worry, and to spiral downward, and solely outward. Release the ties to some and you will see more clearly the ties to all. Your spirits exist and are aware of you and your being, which is part of them but not their whole awareness. You may receive the same understanding as other aspects of your being, if you choose to allow this in. For you are not one person, separate, divided and standing alone, although it may seem that way. You are choosing to experience many realities, all at once, and by turning to your spirit, which is also known as the entity or essence, you are realizing your true self, without limitations of the physical time and space you perceive as very real to you. Looking with the eyes of spirit, you will see all time as one expression with many experiences incapsulated. One expression, not of the one you feel yourself to be upon waking every day, but the one expression of the many expressions of God~Mother~Father. Even if you do not believe in God, you are one with your spirit, and the spirit of all others. You may feel this and know this without any need for a religious system. See the little children, and see how they freely enjoy even the tiniest of creatures and become lost staring at a natural scene, fascinated by the transformation of life from one way of being and moving, to another, very easily the focus is changed. Children flow much easier, because they feel free to explore life to the fullest. Learn from children how to open up to other realms of existence. Do not stifle their spirits, for they are closer to their spirit until they are taught that one must be a certain way and must not be that way.

It is pressure from outside to change and conform to what society expects, that changes the connection to spirit from a natural way of being, and finding expression everywhere, to a stifled flowing, an inhibition to conform, and to allow others to control you. Giving up your freedom to express and explore and expand, is also sometimes giving up your spirit. Not all allow their spirit to be one with them. If you want to be limited, you will not want your spirit to be allowed expression! You may not even know that you are limiting yourself, if you believe what has been drilled into you since a young age. Look at those beliefs which insist on absolute truths. It is this way. It is that way. Find out if those ways may be changed! Explore them, where those truths came from. You may find that others give you truths because it benefits them to have you believe a certain way. Your spirit is free to know all, to be all, to accept all, and to love all. Anything less than that, is a binding, a limitation. It may be removed, when you become aware of your power to perceive differently, to break out of the mold holding you in, and to expand, to become aware of the power of God’s love and light expressing as you! You are all dearly loved. We will speak with you again. Be well. Be peace. Be joy. Be love!

God Bless! Creator Bless!

The Mountain Ledge

2005-03-08T22:22:00.002-07:00

by White Feather

Today I walk past the movie room. I continue down the stone corridor past many doors. Some of the doors have symbols on them and others are unmarked. I've walked by these doors so many times but I've never opened all of them.

I consider going to the beach door. I've stepped through that door many times onto a beautiful peaceful beach. I had walked that beach many times and had fond memories but I'm not in the mood for memories or anything from the past. Perhaps it is time to try a new door.

I walk past many doors, including the beach door, waiting for a door to "call to me." But no door beckons so I keep walking, wondering just how many doors there are.

Finally, a door on my left catches my eye and I sense a resonation--or is that music coming from behind the door? I stop my journey through the corridor and step up to this door, reaching out to grab the doorknob. Slowly, I turn the knob and open the door.

With the door closing behind me, I step out onto a ledge on the side of a mountain. The ledge is no more than five or six feet wide. On the mountain side of the ledge is a shear rock cliff reaching far above me. As I step to the edge of the ledge I see that there is a shear vertical drop-off that stretched several hundred feet down. I step away from the edge and look to my sides. The ledge continues horizontally to both my sides as far as I can see. It is almost like a narrow foot path traversing the mountainous cliff.

Looking far below me, I see a large green valley. I see farms and pastures and meadows and forest and what looked like a small glass city. I briefly wonder what planet I am on. Stepping back away from the edge, I put my hands on the rock wall of the mountain. It certainly feels like planet earth.

I don't think I can walk the ledge so I sit down with my back against the cliff and look out over the land. The longer I stare at the scenery, the more I am overcome with feelings of intense peace. It is a very beautiful land, resonating within me; speaking to me of beautiful and grand stories that had been played out in this frequency. I felt myself being drawn into it.

I think of the mountain I am sitting on. What many and interesting histories the mountain must have been witness to. It surely did not miss much. Can I tap into the data bank by sitting on and leaning back against this mighty mountain? Can I tune into all the feelings ever felt in this land? And can I see its future?

I feel like a stranger; a traveler through this land who comes to observe but does not step down into the reality. I feel that I don't have to. I can feel it all from sitting there on the ledge.

Getting sleepy, I wonder if I fall asleep would I get stuck in that reality? Would I have to live through all the dramas and histories before I found my way back to my body on the ledge? Would it take me centuries or even millenia before I awoke?

I stand up. For a second, I waiver as I gain my equilibrium. I place my hand on the rock wall of the mountain to gather my balance. Taking a deep breath, I stand leaning back on the mountain and I watch the clouds in the sky. I spot a hawk and watch it spiral through the vast sky. I think of how the birds can watch a reality from lofty perspectives yet still dip down into the denseness of the activity below. Flying back up to the high sky, the hawk is unaffected; untainted by the histories of the land below. I admire the birds for that.

I wonder what this mountain ledge would be like in the middle of the night.

I sit back down with my back to the mountain. Staring out over the land and sky and watching the hawk, I start to hear the music.

The Carpet Sweeper

2005-03-05T15:33:00.002-07:00

by White Feather

I once worked for Fuller Brush. It was a hundred years ago during my first marriage (the Seventies). I had just been fired from a job and apparently was pretty desparate for a new job. I answered some stupid ad that said something like, "Be your own boss!" I had no idea I'd be selling brushes and household items door to door. I also had no idea how hard it would be.

So there I was going door to door with a satchel full of brushes and stuff. It was horrible. I've never had so many doors slammed in my face. The first week I think I made about forty bucks. How could I pay the rent on that? But motivational mumbo jumbo from the boss kept me perservering. I kept going thinking that I would get the hang of selling.

The second week I was given a new product to lug around with me door to door. It was one of those electrostatic hand-pushed carpet sweepers. The thing didn't weigh very much but after several blocks it started getting heavy and annoying. So now I had something in each hand as people slammed their doors on me.

That first day of the second week I didn't make a single sale and I was ready to quit. I was frustrated. It was on the next day that I rang a doorbell and the door was opened by a small Korean woman. The woman looked at me and then the carpet sweeper and then her face lit up with joy. She looked very surprised as well. Her mouth opened as though to say something but nothing came out.

I jumped into my sales spiel yammering away about top of the line quality brushes and other must-have quality products. Rarely had I been able to get through my entire spiel without someone stopping me or closing the door but this woman listened to every word I had to say in rapt attention. She seemed excited by everything I said. When I came to a breather in my monologue she pointed at the carpet sweeper, saying in broken English, "Tell me about carpet sweeper."

So I told her all about the new deluxe carpet sweeper with its many features and its incredible introductory low price. She didn't really seem to care about what I said though. Her smile widened as she abruptly waved me inside. I followed her through a hall into a living room and then into another room. She walked very quickly.

Suddenly she stopped and turned around to me, pointing to the floor by her feet. I looked down to the carpet where she was pointing and saw a mess of crumbs. I couldn't tell what kind of crumbs they were as they were pretty small. I figured she had already picked up the larger pieces. "Show me carpet cleaner clean that," she said with much excitement.

Setting my satchel down I slowly placed the carpet sweeper on the carpet and began sweeping over the crumbs. I passed over the crumbs time and again but to my horror the sweeper was only picking up a small amount of the crumbs. I continued to sweep over the crumbs but the crumbs were still there on the carpet. "Uh, I'm sorry...uh, but, uh, this thing doesn't seem to be working very well," I stammered as I continued sweeping, now a little more furiously.

Her demeanor didn't change, "Okay. I buy."

Instead of being thrilled I suddenly felt awful. I couldn't sell this woman something that didn't work. "You don't really want to buy this, do you? See, it really doesn't even work very well."

"Okay. I buy."

I swept furiously some more but then stopped. "In good conscience I don't think I can sell it to you. Look at all those crumbs still on the floor."

"Okay. I buy." Before I knew what was happening the woman grabbed the carpet sweeper out of my hand and took it with her to a table on the other side of the room. Setting it down, she rifled through her purse sitting upon the table. Quickly, she came up with the incredible introductory price and, leaving the sweeper by the table, she brought the money over to where I was standing, "I buy."

With my jaw dropped and a look of perplexed stupidity on my face, I took her money. I didn't know what to say.

She apparently sensed my confusion and commenced to explain, "Five minute ago I am on floor on knees cleaning up mess. I think to myself, 'Boy I wish I had carpet sweeper like on TV.' The next second doorbell ring and I open door. You stand there with carpet sweeper in hand. How can I not buy?!"

With my jaw still dropped she walked me back to the front door, saying, "Thank you. Come again." With the front door closed behind me, I stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out what just happened. I was still too young and ignorant way back then to fully appreciate the beauty of the moment.

That was the last house I went to. I went straight to my car and drove to my boss's house and turned in my satchel, quitting the job. I didn't make much money at that job. I was quite the failure. It would take me some time to realize, however, that everything I needed to learn from that job I learned in that one house call to the Korean woman.

© 2005, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. White Feather Books

Earth Cleansing

2005-01-20T08:33:00.001-07:00

by Trendle Ellwood

I shared this on the forums but thought I would also like to share it here. One morning last week as I was coming from my dreams I was in my car and God was washing the window over my dashboard, all at once everything was clearer, and I could see better where I was going.

I got up and went to see a friend of mine and we got to talking about things, the tsunami, and how it seemed like everything has changed and it is the end and the collapsing of so many things.

Then she told me about something that she said she kept thinking about and that was how people all over the world are reaching out and helping the people where this earth movement happened. And it reminded my friend of the blackout that happened in NYC and how people helped each other and there was less crime during that time period than unusual.

We talked about what I read that people got to sit outside and look at the stars in the sky for the first time in their lives ever, during that blackout. People talked to their neighbors for the first time. We felt that everything that was not aligned with love was coming to the service and being washed out. Our rivers and streams here in Ohio have spilled up and over their banks many times this winter and flooding surrounds us. Great big house are washing down the Ohio river, it is like the dam broke loose.

It seems that suddenly nothing can be hidden; any leaves stuck on old logs are getting stirred up and washed on down the river. And the debris created by `the wave` is getting carried back out to the sea. Everyone’s lives have dramatically changed or are changing.

We were talking about this when my friends ex came by bringing over little Job. Job is an enchanting mix of wisdom and innocence wrapped up in his sparkling eyed, two-year-old self. Job showed me his new toy while his Daddy joined his mothers and mine conversation, His Daddy declared that we were in the Apocalypse. Patty and I agreed that we were living it now. It was no longer in the future but the scales had been tipped and everything was sliding into the pot now. The end of the earth, it is here.
Job’s father continued. “We were living in it, participants of the end.”
And then we asked him what he thought was next. "The end," he replied.

"This it it, this is the end."

And as it seemed that he just left it there, we asked him, ”What do we do next? So where will our souls go then?

As Job’s father pondered his answer, little Job, unexpectedly and spontaneously piped in, and in a voice which seemed to imply don't you grownups know!?, he informed us, "WE GO HOME."

There was a hush in the room as we all withstood the impact of Job’s input. And then we all laughed and said, Yes, Job got it right! We go home! There is no place left to go but home.

As I drove home I had this big feeling that I was not living in the same world that I was living in yesterday but that the new world was superimposed over the old.

Another thing happened before I left my friend, her daughter called her on the phone and she shared that when she woke up this morning she felt like she was waking up for the very first time and seeing through brand new eyes.

In The beginning

2005-01-06T08:10:00.001-07:00

by easywriter

This one is a little long, written at about twelve years of age it got me into trouble with my folks and Sunday school teachers. Thought I'd share it here.

God waited, watched the red-earth man as he grew, different from the other members of his family only in the fact that there was a straighter stance and a decidedly more inquisitive glint in his eye. This one thought God would be the one. Finally, there would be something or rather someone on this great, grand planet with whom he could speak and teach. God loved his creation and wanted someone else to love it too. The process of creating was at the most, experimental and he was pleased with the things his imagination had wrought. He reveled in the exercise of dabbling and tweaking, all required to bring those imaginings to life.

God, satisfied that all was well, turned his eye on Eve, a woman of another tribe; she thought of them as, the people. She too was just different enough to matter. He would have to contrive a meeting.

Adam was hunting. He left the camp before dawn following the course of the river to the narrowest part; this was where the animals came to drink as the day began to break. He knew each kind and their habits, formed sounds to name them so that he could keep them separate in his mind. He knew that the sound lion meant one beast and gazelle meant another. He knew that lions could eat him and that gazelles could be eaten by him. He was a good hunter. While Adam hunted, God planned.

He caused Eve to wander too far in search of plants that were good to eat. He caused Adam to discover and follow the strange tracks of an animal he had never seen before, they led away from the riverbank and back into the cool green of the trees. Exhausted and finally aware that she had lost her way Eve huddled in misery beneath a tree and mourned herself to sleep.

Adam too, had gone much further than was his wont and though he was a good tracker and unconcerned about finding his way back home he was tired. He did not find the animal he was seeking and the footprints were long vanished in the tangled undergrowth of the forest. There was still time, the day was barely broken and he already had his kill. The family would eat that day. He threw down the burden of meat from his broad, brown back and sat, silent in the shade listening to the sounds of the birds calling above him. Life was good and he drifted off. Lost in a dream, half-awake and half-asleep Adam heard a loud droning sound near his ear. He opened his eyes, alert at once and saw beside him on a tangled vine a Dragonfly huge and jewel-toned. It shimmered in his vision and then much to Adams fear and amazement it spoke. "Follow me Adam, I have a gift for you." Adam obeyed; he was too shocked not to. The Dragonfly flew before him a short way and hovered above a place where the growth had formed a small green cave.

"Look inside red-earth man. Your gift is there." Adam bent low and parted the leaves; before him laid upon the earth was the sleeping form of Eve. "A woman?" said Adam to God, "How can you give me a woman as a gift?"

"I wrought her over time; she is the culmination of all of my efforts as you are too. She is worthy of you and you are worthy of her. I desire you to take her as your mate. From you, shall all of the tribes of the world be strengthened and improved."

Adam, shook his head in puzzlement, "Who are you? What are you?" still unwilling to accept the woman under such strange circumstances.

"I am your God. You will worship me and love me. You will teach the generations that follow to obey me in all things." He sent his wings into an ecstasy of blurred movement as he said this and Adam watched, spellbound.

"Teach me then God, so that I can do as you ask." said Adam as he woke Eve gently, and soothed her. She was frightened at being roused in this strange place by this strange man for in her dreams she was already home and it jarred her to open her eyes and learn that this was not the case.

Adam did not know her people. She could not remember what direction she had traveled and because it was safer for her since she might never find her way home and because she loved the droning voice and bright colors of the Dragonfly. Since Adam was strong but seemed gentle too she accepted the offer to remain with him and to learn about God.

"God?"

"Yes Adam"

"When may we leave to return to my camp? We have been here for a long, long time."

"You will continue to stay here with me. There is still much to discuss. I have been lonely and long to talk." Adam nodded his head in understanding. He would not argue nor complain for the deep forest was much better and much richer than his former home and after all he had Eve too.

They discussed many things, God explained to Adam and to Eve how hard he worked on making all of the things that lived and grew or were formed beneath the earth. One day, when Adam and Eve were seated quietly talking of things with the Dragonfly Adam questioned him about the length of time it must have taken. "Six days, then I simply had to stop and rest. I wanted to enjoy the fruits of my labors."

Adam looked at God with more than a little skepticism and God chuckled over that, buzzing with hilarity.

"Time is relative Dear Adam, did you not know that? You may experience six days one way, but to me one day might be what you would experience as six million years or more. After all, creation could not be perfected with just one try and in six of your allotted days. I am still experimenting. I can't seem to stop." He buzzed with laughter once again.

Adam and Eve stared in wonder at God, mouths agape. "So that explains how when the night draws in and one of the children are sick the time seems to drag on forever. Yet in the clear light of day when the fever has broken and my child is playing again the time seems to slip away like shadows before the light," Eve slowly stated, still thinking as she spoke the words.

God smiled in reply and simply said. "That's it Eve, you've got it, as I said, time is relative." He tucked that idea regarding relativity away to place it in the mind of another when the time would be right

Book Announcement

2004-12-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

White Feather's new book is now available!

Living in Joy, by White Feather. NEW! Living in joy is the natural human condition but it was long ago replaced by a different, more stressful, way of living. As humankind goes through a radical and massive shift in consciousness that original way of living is being remembered. Through his philosophical rambling and his heart warming storytelling, White Feather sheds light on that old way of living in joy, gently coaxing it out of the recesses of our soul memory. Through eloquence and humor, White Feather tweaks our perspectives in such a way as to make this shift in consciousness easier to see and understand and embrace. This is a collection of some of White Feather's most moving writings. More books by White Feather

The Teacher

2004-11-14T09:46:00.001-07:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

I had a neat dream last night, about being in a class. It was in my elementary school multi-purpose room, and there were about 30 students sitting at the lunch tables, 2 to a table. We were about to take a test. The questions were on the board at the front. I didn't know there was going to be a test, so I didn't even have a piece of paper to write the answers on, had to borrow a sheet from the student next to me. The weird thing was...I'd given her the whole notebook I was borrowing a piece of paper from!

We only had a few minutes to complete the test. The questions seemed simple enough. Basic stuff. I ran out of room though and had to ask for another piece of paper, which she happily handed to me.

The teacher was a guy who smiled a lot, and had an easygoing manner. He said when we're done, he was passing around the answer sheet and we were going to grade our own tests. I was sitting at the 2nd table to get the sheet, so I noticed the ones in front of me were smiling and laughing as they passed the answer sheet back. My friend next to me finished hers and gave me the sheet. I found one question I'd missed and knew my answers were going to be all jumbled up, with the wrong numbers next to the answers. I wondered if I could write my answers over again, but everybody was waiting for the sheet so I knew I had to accept it like it was.

As I scanned the sheet and saw most everything was matching up, except for the numbers, I felt good about it and just passed the sheet back to the table in back of me. The girl there was busy with her pocketbook, digging for something. That's when I realized there was another answer sheet stuck to the bottom of the first one, which I hadn't seen! I took the 2nd sheet back, so I could read what I'd missed.

This one surprised me....it was a collection of articles....not answers at all. One told about our teacher, and revealed that he was a very interesting and kind man, who had done a lot in his life, done much to help others. I wished I'd gotten to know him better, while sitting in his class, since it seemed to be over.

At the top of the right side of the paper was the story that really got me. It was about our teacher, and the way he'd raised money when he was a little boy, in order to help another little boy who was sick. He started out with just a little bit of money and talked to everybody he knew to help him. The print was faint, since it was a very old article, but I could make out the story anyway. It said that our teacher's efforts to help his friend snowballed and after a lot of outreaching to others, his friend received all that he needed...... and he got cured! It was a miracle story. And it was all because of what a little boy started with a few pennies of his own.

I realized then what the teacher was teaching us. He was smiling as he looked around the room, watching us with joy as we all realized what he, and the class, was all about. The test never mattered at all! We all knew that the point of the class was not to learn something with our brains, and we never needed to worry about the test after all...but it was all about remembering with our hearts...and helping those that needed help...and sharing what we have with others, however small it seems at the time.

It turned out to be a wonderful class, not at all what I expected, but far better than I could have even imagined it would be, because at the time I wasn't understanding the purpose. At the end...I knew....and was just very, very happy about being there.

Love & Joy,
Barb ~ Mountain Wolf VT

The Movie Theater

2004-10-30T22:46:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

I am standing at the top of some marble stairs. There are twenty-one wide steps leading downward. I used to go down these stairs all the time but I haven't in a long time. I've been going elsewhere.

I take three deep long breaths. Slowly, I move my right foot forward and step down onto the twentieth step. I pause briefly then step down with my left foot onto the nineteenth step. I block everything else out and feel myself descending. Slowly, with my right foot, I step down onto the 18th step. I'm not really looking at anything but rather concentrating on each and every step I take down the stairs.

Down I step to the seventeenth step then the sixteenth then the fifteenth. With each step down I find myself getting more relaxed and more focused on my descent. With my right foot I lower down to the fourteenth step and then the thirteenth then twelth. The light is getting darker and there seems to be a mist. Down to the eleventh, tenth, ninth, eighth... I feel myself lowering. Seventh, sixth, fifth... I seem to be getting lighter and time seems to have disappeared. Fourth step, third step... My breathing is very light as in sleep. Second step then first step.

Then I step down off the stairs and stand still for a moment. Before me are two steel doors that swing open like hospital doors or restaurant doors. I slowly put out my right arm then I push the right door open and walk through.

I walk into a corridor that is perhaps ten feet wide and ten feet high. The walls are made of cut stone blocks and the floor is flagstone. The lighting is dim and there is a very light mist in the air. It's almost like a tunne. I walk down the corridor and notice the many doors both on the left and on the right. The doors are heavy steel doors and they are unmarked. When I come to the third door on the right I stop.

I know that behind this door is a movie theater and I also know that if I keep going down the corridor that I would eventually get to that door that opened out to the beach. I reminisce a moment on my fond memories of that beach. But then I reach out my hand and turn the doorknob on the metal door before me.

I enter the movie theater and seat myself right in the middle. There are only about fifty or sixty seats. What I like about this theater is that the seats are extremely comfortable. They are like Lazy Boy recliners. You could be so comfortable watching the movies that you would forget all about your body. I set my seat in the reclining position and I am instantly comfortable as I look up at the big blank screen.

In this theater the movie up on the big screen does not come from a projector behind me but rather it comes from my own mind. All I have to do is focus my attention on something and then the movie will start at which point it is no longer necessary to focus. One merely needs to watch.

So I am ready to start watching a movie but I don't know what to focus on to start the movie. Unable to focus, my mind wanders. I am so comforable in my chair that I just let my mind go. I don't care what shows up on the screen. I surrender to the stillness and the comfort and the peaceful vibration. Before long, images begin to appear on the screen.

Landscapes begin shooting past from left to right as though I were on a train although it's not a train. It's too smooth; like I'm floating through the air. I'm not moving too quickly. It's a slow and steady pace; perhaps around forty miles per hour.

The landscape is flat without any mountains or hills and with only occasional trees. There is a lot of tall grass and it is being blown into waves by a strong breeze. The land seems to stretch forever.

I get a feeling of peace from the land but also some sadness. It feels like I'm looking at the land from the eyes of a small child. There are memories in this land yet it felt like I was seeing it also for the first time.

I sense the approach of something just beyond the horizon. I wonder where I was going. Before long I notice that the grass appears to be getting thinner and I spot a few small sand dunes. There are high puffy clouds in the sky and the air is thick with moisture.

Quickly, the dunes become larger and more frequent. I find my motion through the air is slowing and I am coming to a stop. As I stop I turn and face forward into the direction I had been traveling.

There before me is the ocean. All the sunlight glistening off the water forces me to squint my eyes for a moment until my eyes can adjust. As I look around me I see that I am on a sandy beach but it isn't the beach that I used to go to down the corridor. This is a different beach in a different place in a different time. I stare out over the water and see an armada of boats.

A knowing overcomes me that those boats are the only way out of this land. I feel that some day I will be on one of those boats and I will leave this place forever. But for now I am intensely happy just looking at the majestic schooners and the endless water and sky.

The camera in the movie now focuses in on a lone seagull flying over the waves crashing on the beach. I can hear the flapping of its wings and its occasional caw. I can feel it as it stretches its wings and glides on the wind. I watch the bird fly round and round for a few minutes then I look back down at the scenery around me and it is suddenly totally different.

Now I am in a mountain meadow, standing among wildflowers and grass. The camera slowly turns in a circle revealing snow-capped mountains all around the meadow. They are tall, beautiful, and rugged peaks and I suddenly get the feeling that the only way out of that meadow is to go over those mountains. I am in no hurry to leave the pristine state of the meadow, though. I walk around and around the meadow luxuriating in the smells and the textures and the birdsong. Eventually, I lie down in the grass and stare up at the clouds drifting across the sky.

I merge with a cloud and follow it over the mountains and away through the sky. I look down at the land below as I float over it. I see the mountains turn into hills and rolling farmland and forest. I see farms below and animals and rivers with boats and I see dirt roads with horses pulling wagons. Ahead, I see a city. There are many white buildings with red clay roofs. People mill through the streets and horse-drawn wagons clippity-clop on the cobblestone streets. I see laundry hanging on lines and children and dogs playing.

And now the cloud that I have merged with is suddenly coming apart. I then begin gently raining on the city.

Brief Glimpses Of A Forest

2004-10-27T13:04:00.001-06:00

by easywriter

A fox I chanced to meet. She was all laughing triangles. Elegant in black stockings and fox fur coat. Jaunty in her gait. She gave me just a glance, her pink tongue extended in a vixen's smile. She did not care that I was there.

As I stood by her side, Lady Lake tossed as though in restless fever. Crept up onto the rocky shore, brief forays from her bed and subsided again.

I watched the dust rise and whip away as the wind gathered handfuls of sand and let it run through icy fingers.

A flock of maple leaves, crisped brown and curled ride the current keeping company with a pair of loons indifferent to their passing.

A buck, unaware of human presence steps out from a stand of white pine and lowers his head to drink, a single drop of water hangs pendulous, shining from tawny muzzle; he shakes his head, turns and vanishes back into the trees.

A raccoon hurrying by stops to stare, a look of comic puzzlement in his clever eyes.

A red squirrel climbs high, perches on a Maple branch, shapes his tail into a question mark of disbelief and announces my intrusion.

A Blue Jay confirms the sighting with a raucous call and flies to spread the news.

A band of chickadees provide a merry escort as I make my way back home.

One Winged Seed

2004-10-24T16:29:00.001-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

Once there was a winged seed who lived high up in a maple tree. She was so happy there, floating in the breeze. She thought that life could only get better and better. All her seed friends were giggling around her and she felt loved and content.

But then one day a big wind blew and that little winged seed lost her hold. She spun down from the tree, her one wing fluttering and being torn by the force. She then found herself upon the cold wet ground, her wing broken, her hopes shattered. The rain forced her deep into the mud of the earth and she hurt more then she had ever hurt before. Never had she known a cold so cold, nor a silence so deep.

As she lay there she lost all hope of ever seeing light again, because the sky seemed so far away. But after a time she discovered something, in the place where she had once worn her wing, there was something else. She was sprouting roots, roots which traveled deep into the earth and brought nourishment to her. And she was also sprouting arms, arms which she could reach up from the earth with and peek to the surface.

And then it began to dawn on her that she was not dying, that all hope was not lost. She was still filled with pain but she began to wonder at the signs that she was getting that the one winged seed that she used to be was becoming something else, something quite different from a seed. Something with roots growing deep in the depths of the earth and arms reaching up. And so she began to have hope that one day she would be touching that sky again, not as a seed but as a tree.

A Cardinal's Gift

2004-10-21T21:43:00.001-06:00

by easywriter

One day while I was outside filling my bird feeder I began to notice the array of feathers strewn on the lawn. Chickadee, Grackle, Blue Jay and more. I collected a few of the best to keep and wondered at the fact that, even though I have many Cardinals who come to visit there was not one red feather to be seen. Not even the rusty brown ones belonging to the females. I began in some peculiar way to covet what was not there. I love Cardinals and I thought how sweet it would be to have just one feather to gaze upon when my little friends were absent. That set me to thinking about what I felt I deserved but was not receiving. Very selfish thoughts and I admonished myself over it.

The following day I repeated the excersise of filling the feeder. I heard a rustle close by and looking up spied an especially beautiful male Cardinal. They are usually very shy and don't come too near if they see people close by; but this one did not seem shy at all. He looked at me from his crab apple tree perch just above my head. We admired one another for a moment; then with one clear whistling call he flew from the branch up over the rooftop of the house. I watched him go and couldn't help but smile to myself. I had enjoyed his presence. As I turned back to my little task my eye was caught by another flash of red. There, against the emerald grass lay a single jewel, a ruby coloured feather. I still have that feather and will always keep it. It reminds me to be happy with what I have instead of being unhappy with what I don't have. A lesson from a Cardinal and a treasured gift.

For those who find joy in writing....Joy Writing

The Little Miracle

2004-10-21T01:01:00.001-06:00

by James Bassett

The following article is a story about the author of this piece. It is about a little miracle that was performed and of which, at the time, the author was completely unaware. Little miracles happen all the time and I, like most people, am not aware of the miracle when it occurs. Still, I have time to ruminate and when I'm reviewing events from the past, I discover that I have benefited from little things that logically should not have happened.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jim's mind was in turmoil. This Labor Day weekend was supposed to have been a time for relaxation, but it had turned into a time of mixed emotions and no solutions. Jim had played golf with his brother-in-law that morning and things seemed to be OK. After the barbecue lunch, while the others were cleaning up and playing board games, Jim went off by himself to consider the plot in the western novel he was writing. As he was reading the last few pages he had written, there it was: THE PROBLEM. The problem was that the hero had fallen in love with the heroine, an event he had not planned to put into the book. When the book ended, the hero was supposed to get on his horse and ride off into the sunset.

Of course, on the surface, it wasn't really a problem. It was what was behind the scenes that created the problem. Jim identified very closely with the hero and the heroine was, of course, created in the story as the perfect woman for Jim. Still, in and of itself, that didn't create the problem. The real problem was that Jim had used his secretary as the model for the heroine. The real problem was that now he realized he was in love with Hank.

He had given her the nickname as a joke when he first met her. He had told her at that time she was a good-looking hunk of woman. She admonished him, saying, "Men are hunks. Women are not."

"OK. Then you are a good looking hank." He responded.

"And where did you get that?"

"From the Jimmy Rogers song about a hank of hair and a piece of bone."

"I guess that's acceptable," she said.

And she became Hank to him and to all the people in the office with whom he dealt on a regular basis. Her real name was Helen, but then his wife and mother were also named Helen and he did need something to discriminate between them when talking to or about them.

He hadn't even started writing the book when she came into his life. It was a couple of months later when he asked her if he could use her as the model for the heroine in the western novel he was about to try writing. And just to make a connection, he used the name Henrietta for his heroine since he was calling her Hank. He promised her first reading of the manuscript when it was finished so that she could recommend edits about the heroine if she felt the reference was unflattering.

So now, fifteen months later, he was in love with her simply because he had written descriptions of her in the book. With the realization that he had fallen in love with this other woman, he was in turmoil. It was against his personal code of honor for him to be in love with another woman. He had taken his marriage vows twenty-three years earlier and he was committed to honoring them. It simply wasn't allowable in his frame of reference for him to be in love with another woman.

For the next four days, Jim was in constant anguish over this turn of events. He did his job like an automaton and took care of his home duties just as mechanically. At night, he tossed and turned, but slept very little. For him, this was a major crisis and he couldn't see any way to change the situation. Hank was at work everyday, so he was constantly reminded of his feelings for this enigmatic woman. Hank was an attractive person who kept herself well groomed and who had a personality that attracted men from all over the office. Everyone in the office knew Hank as a lovely person with whom they enjoyed even casual associations. She was just that way.

On Friday, Jim went to work bleary eyed and weary from lack of sleep. He started the day just as he had the previous three and was going mechanically through the motions of reviewing and signing paperwork without really being aware of what he was signing. Just before ten, Hank came to the door of his office and said, "You have a visitor."

She escorted Jim's older sister into the office and then went on about her duties.

Jim was surprised, "Hi Susie. What are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure. I was driving by here on my way to see a client and I got the oddest feeling that you needed to see me."

Jim and his sister were not close. He hadn't really had much contact with her since she had married when he was eighteen and moved to another city. Now they both lived in the same city but they seldom saw each other. They really had nothing in common except that they shared the same set of parents. She had divorced her first husband after twenty years and remarried. With her new husband's support, she started her own business selling hearing aids and was doing fairly well. Jim had gotten his college education including a Master's degree and had followed the corporate path to a management position in the corporate offices. With their separate interests, they had no reason to interact and, when they did, it was usually at a family gathering. But here she was because she had a feeling that he needed to see her.

"OK," Jim said. "Let's go up to the cafeteria and I'll tell you my story over a cup of coffee."

They rode the elevator up to the sixth floor and Jim outlined his problem in cursory terms that gave her an idea of what he was facing. When they were seated with their drinks, he finished the tale of his predicament and then she said,

"Well stupid. You have to detach. Get out of the damn book. You are not the hero and Hank is not the heroine. In books, the hero is supposed to fall in love with the heroine. But you are the author and Hank is a girl who works in the office where you do. Reason it out. Detach. Get out of the book and wake up to the real world."

There it was. The answer. Get out of the book. That was all he had to do. It really was OK if the hero fell in love with the heroine. He hadn't broken his marriage vows so things were wonderful. After his sister left, he was back in his office when Hank came in and announced that there was to be a happy hour this evening at a bar with a dance floor on the other side of town. She was trying to find out how many would attend. Jim said he would go, but that she would have to drive him to the place and his wife would meet him there and drive him home.

He called his wife, told her of the plans and she agreed to meet him at the bar since it was just a short distance from where she worked. He told her that he was going to get drunk and she would have to drive him home. He didn't tell her why. He didn't tell her that he needed to let go of all the stress he had built up during the past week and that was now ready for full release. He hadn't told anyone of the problem he was facing until Susie showed up today.

At the happy hour, Jim got himself high with three drinks and then he released all the pent up energy he had bottled up inside. He was dancing with anyone who would dance and was generally the life of the party. It was so unlike him that all the girls wanted to dance with him and all the guys wanted to know what he was on. He couldn't tell them. What he said was, "I'm just happy."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Why did Susie show up? She drove by his office twice each week. She had been doing so for several years and had never found any need to go and see him before. Why did she get that feeling that he needed to see her on this particular day? The only answer is that God provided one of life's little miracles.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Copyright © 2004, by James Bassett. All Rights Reserved.

James Bassett: After spending the majority of my life trying to be a success as defined by society, I finally achieved a measure of that success. Then I found that it wasn't what I expected and began to look elsewhere. Now, at 65, after twenty years of looking, I think I have discovered what success is. Now I just strive to be happy with who I am and where I am. As a writer, my main focus is western fiction, but I stop occasionally to jot down a few spiritual notes.

Mack And The Children

2004-10-20T11:34:00.000-06:00

by easywriter
Haying time again. Mack Finn was probably the only man left in the county who used horses to bring the yellow bounty in from the field. These days everyone was using state of the art machines to do most of the work. Not Mack though, and the village children loved him for it, they would trek up main street in groups and pairs, head about a mile down highway 7 to meet ol' Mack and hitch a ride the rest of the way to the shorn meadow; the ancient wagon bouncing over the rough shoulder of the road, rocking to the sweet rhythm of plodding Bess and Dobbin. Mack always liked a helping hand when it came to haying. The children had been there to help with the cutting too, carrying armloads of the sweet grasses and laying them across the racks to dry. How many baby birds were cradled in those calloused hands when he was busy with the mowing to be gently placed into the tender clasp of children weeping for the ruined nests? "A few, a few" Mack would state with a nod of his head if anyone had cared to ask.
"Take care now." Mack's voice was a soothing rumble. "You're all the Momma that baby's got now and no help for it child. The hay's got to be brought in." He would continue wiping streaming cheeks with an old hanky that he always kept in the pocket of his overalls. "You dry your eyes now and after we're done here we'll go make a new nest and you can keep watch over that little bird until it's strong enough to fly." At that comforting speech the sunshine would return to brighten tearful eyes and Mack and the children would buckle to with renewed vigor 'cause there were more important things waiting to be done.

I Am Not Alone

2004-10-19T22:19:00.000-06:00

by easywriter

It is cold out here. I am alone. The moon has hidden himself away and the stars have veiled their bright faces with torn and ragged clouds. I saw your light and followed; you welcomed me. It is warm in here. I will learn and become strong because of you. I am grateful, I am not alone.

Namaste

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, October 13, 2004

2004-10-13T18:13:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit Within – A Journey Into Oneness.

Peter & Gabriel, is there a message for all today?

Yes, we are happy to speak with you all. Today’s message will be about supportiveness. This is something you all are familiar with, either in your own actions toward others, or in what you receive yourself. Supportiveness takes on many forms, and yet it’s also something subjectively identified and quite unique to each individual. We could say that supportiveness, as a general term, is the act of providing support to another who is in need. How you determine what is needed, and what is support, is up to the one who seeks this support, to define. Although you may offer your support to another, it may not actually be perceived in the same way you intended it.

Remember to consult with your highest inner self, the connection with God within, before you offer your energy to another, in terms of your identifying that they need your help. For they may not need your help at all. They may prefer being where they are, and want to learn something at a deeper level. However, if you are asked to be supportive, then it’s alright to offer your energy in whatever form you feel like offering. It would be best to ask the one you want to be supportive of, what they would like from you though. Otherwise you are apt to be miscommunicating.

We shall tell you what we do, in supportiveness to humanity, as beings from the angelic realm or level. We respect free will to choose, and that includes how to proceed in making future choices. We shall be offering our advice as insights or nudges, but we shall not be forcing anyone to change their ways just because we say it’s going to be helpful. All must learn in their own way, what they prefer and how they may be guided, or not. It’s all up to the individuals. We do our very best to ensure the God-given gift of free will is honored and respected. And we also offer our understanding and compassion to those who seek it.

It is quite necessary for an agreement to be made for the one who comes seeking help, as to what they will accept or will not accept. This agreement is not always known consciously to the person living their life on Earth. It may be an agreement made in spirit, even before incarnating, part of the blueprint. They may plan it as “Help us here if we get stuck in something we can’t remember how to get out of.”…or “Don’t help us at this certain point, when we must rely on our own inner strength and wisdom and abilities to get us through something.” Yes, there are certain times when intervention is asked for directly, and yet due to these soul agreements, we will not interfere. These are the hardest times, when people believe God and the angels have failed them. So very hard. We wish for you all to know that we love you most dearly, and would do anything we could to help any time we can, when we are asked and allowed to. You are beautiful, our dear brothers and sisters. We support you. Be peace, love, harmony, and joy.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Fire on the Mountain

2004-10-08T07:52:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Prescott National Forest

Several years ago we had an uncontrolled forest fire that came to within 2 miles of our home. A close friend and family lost their home and all their possessions.

We are experiencing forest fires again, only this time the fires are controlled burns. Professional workers are busy burning in order to prevent an uncontrolled fire in the future. The visible smoke and the smell is alarming, nonetheless, and brings back memories of the fire from a few years ago.

A positive note of this controlled fire is displayed in the evening during sunset, when the sky gives an unusual splendid show, as can be seen in the following photo.

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

New Book Announcement

2004-10-08T01:01:00.000-06:00

The Change, by Arthur James. ISBN: 1-4116-0982-4. The story of a man who wakes up one morning to find he has no penis and his trials as he changes slowly into a woman. From the telling of his wife, his family, and then the world about the transformation, the person completes the physical transformation when she becomes romantically involved. Once the physical transformation is complete, she becomes aware of a knowingness within her being that she had not noticed before. Then begins the spiritual transformation that leads her to an understanding of the isness of the all that is. At White Feather Forum we know Arthur James as our beloved Seven41. Click on the title link to either instantly download the book or order the paperback edition. Highly recommended!

Ramble #15

2004-10-07T01:12:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

How many reasons can you think of NOT to experience joy? How many guilts are awakened by the thought of experiencing true joy? Does joy awaken a fear of what might come next? Will joy take us out of our comfort? Are we worthy of joy? Will we be able to handle it? Will our expression of it alienate us from those around us? Will joy keep us from fulfilling our obligations to the future or some plan? Will joy break our routine? Will joy remind us of past sorrow? Could we possible explode from too much joy?

There are ten thousand excuses for not experiencing joy. Unfortunately, they all work.

Joy, however, needs no rationalization, no reason, no excuse. To experience it is a natural expression of our true self. The only things keeping us from realizing and understanding and being our true selves are all those reasons we come up with NOT to experience joy.

Just a Picture

2004-10-03T10:20:00.000-06:00

Words Will Flow

2004-10-01T07:10:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Early this morning while it was dark, still two hours before sunrise, I stood outside looking at the stars. I saw that Venus was as bright as ever; the Big Dipper was becoming more visible, and I saw Orion high in the southeastern sky. It was beautiful; the night sky was clear and the air crisp. I remained outside for a few more minutes, and before I going back indoors, I looked above and said these words aloud, “Universe, is there a Word you would like to speak to me today?”

Back inside and sitting at my computer I began to type an entry in my journal and wrote these words:

"Imagine if you will that you are to give a message to the waking world. You have been asked to speak publicly and in only a few hours you are to deliver a message.

The pit of your solar plexus begins to churn; is it fright you feel?

Early in the morning you have already approached the Universe and asked the Source for a Word. And now you are wondering what to say in a few hours hence when you are scheduled to speak.

This is a game I’d prefer not to play; it speaks too loudly of familiar experiences. I have a feeling that I have been here before. Where have I experienced such a scene before? Perhaps another life? I have a feeling that the answer to this is yes."

Where do thoughts like this originate? Imagination has a way of connecting one’s self to a larger reality. I cannot merely brush this thought away like a pesky fly.

I am reminded of another day, another time, when Master Yeshua (Jesus) spoke and advised a group of his followers not to premeditate on a word to speak in the time of trial. “In that hour,” Yeshua said, “the word will be given to you to say.”

The key, I think, is to remain in a state of inner focus; center one’s self in peace. Choose to place yourself in the center of the storm – in the eye of the hurricane, where there is calm. In this center there is peace, and within this center words will flow when needed.

Do you suppose the Universe has spoken a message to me this morning? Do you suppose the Source heard my prayer request as I spoke my question aloud while I was star gazing early this morning?

I feel that this is so.

And the message to me this morning is this: Go within to the center where there is peace. Remain focused in peace; from this being-ness you bring forth your expressions.

[Note to the reader: For another side to this story, see Word Blockage. This link is to an article that I wrote on a day when I was feeling despair of ever having a word to write.]

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Are We Singing?

2004-09-30T10:04:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

Spiraling rainbows shimmering on all peripheries; things take on a mystical hue when those certain vibratory frequecnies are reached. It is the music of life.

What note are we vibrating to? What pitch are we giving off? And how do we change pitch? Do we create our own rhythm or do we follow along with a rhythm that is beyond ourselves?

But is anything beyond us? Is the primal rhythm of the universe not the same rhythm that echoes in our bones? If so, we are part of the creation. Our pitch is part of the overall tone.

The vibratory pitches that feel good are those that we created as markers for us to follow towards our ideal frequency; the frequency that expresses our total being. We have written a symphony and every note is a bread crumb dropped to help us find our way home. As we feel and embrace each bread crumb we get closer to the wholeness of our being.

Can we embrace each note or frequency unconditionally? Can we surrender to the music flowing through us? Can we live the music flowing through us? Can we dance to the music without judging it? Can we let it flow through our bodies unimpeded? Is it flowing out of your fingertips and out of your mouth and out of your feet?

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, September 29, 2004

2004-09-29T10:47:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit Within – A Journey Into Oneness.

Peter & Gabriel, is there a message for all today?

Yes, we are so glad to offer this to all of you. For this is a special time upon your world. You are being given many strong areas of emphasis for you to focus upon. This is for a reason. You are clearing out the old energy, the negative attachments are being revealed, so all may work on aligning themselves with their true path. The way your soul chose for you is beginning to be felt more strongly by many. When you choose against your soul which knows what is best for you, you will find your own resistance is what you are seeing happening around you. It will manifest outwardly as something for you to pay attention to, and resolve. Let yourselves flow with the energy flows that are available to each one of you. Ride these waves with ever increasing surety, as you trust that you are a divine creation receiving sustenance from your source, which has the power that flows through you and all around. This power is love. Ride with love and perceive through love’s eyes, and your heart will expand and the world will seem wondrous. Even through times of darkness, you will regain your balance and ride the wave of love and light through it all. Hold steady, and feel yourself become one with each moment of creation, each being within this world. Uplift yourself, and you uplift more than you know. For you all may affect the tide, so to speak.

Turning our attention to another matter now, we shall offer this to all. The issues with the natural disasters are increasing. This is a time for balance, and for purging of the negative energies, and of the old way, to create anew. Fear not, and focus on the natural shift that this is. There are ways to balance this energy other than these natural, cyclic patterns of release. Find your own way to balance your own self, and indeed you will understand there are connections. Find your source of inner strength to make necessary adjustments, to be in harmony instead of in resistance. See one another as intricately connected in life, and what one does will affect the whole. Be most loving and kind and joyous. Life is for rediscovering how to give and receive love, and to gain in your awareness of all that is. Enjoy yourselves, and one another. You are dearly loved.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Bean Supper at Clear Creek

2004-09-26T09:20:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

We fell together into a rare two hour afternoon nap when Jim and I found ourselves exhausted after Saturdays Market. Then it was like being awoken from a mummied state, when he let me know that it was time to arise and go to the bean super that we had promised to show up at. “ Oh! Why did I say we would go? I berated myself, as I struggled to get ready and get myself and two girls out the door, “It would be so good to just stay home and rest.”

I grabbed a jar of my Company’s Coming Bread and Butter Pickles from the cupboard, and Jim retrieved a jar of honey from the truck to take. We went through town and stopped at Kroger to get some chips and pop to contribute, plus a container of macaroni feeling guilty that it wasn’t homemade.

We traveled around the south side of town and into the country towards the hilly and pretty area that Clear Creek runs through. We found the bean dinner on a beautiful piece of land where a regal but comfortable old farmhouse snuggles on the hillside and watches proudly over the vista, a large sweeping vista with a great blue sky above and a great green lawn below. We parked our car with the others in a row on this span of green and then walked out into the midst of it. We were then between the house and the view and we walked towards the horizon where in the foreground of this landscape the people were gathered on the lawn. The lawn sloped on down past the people into pastures below, pastures which joined a stretching stand of corn that stood glowing amber and gold in the autumn light. Beyond all this flowed the creek, spanned by a charming old wooden covered bridge, which posed, picturesque like, in the valley.

This is the home and land, all 100 and some acres of it, of Hazel and Loraine, fellow marketers. “As far that way as your eye can see,” is the way Hazel puts it, as she nods to the south. When we got there Hazel and Loraine were tending to the kettle that was hanging over a fire. A big black kettle that was as big as your arms outstretched into a circle. They stirred the beans in this kettle with a big wooden tool that looked like a paddle. They were good beans, with ham and lots of pepper.

After Hazel and Loraine greeted us I snuck our store bought macaroni onto the table and with a knife popped open the lid on my pickles and put the honey by the cornbread. Our friends from market, Shirley and Ed were there. Ed was coming back to the table for seconds and he made a point of getting another piece of cornbread just because Jim had brought his honey. He squeezed the honey bear over his bread and then he helped himself to some of my pickles, took a bite of them, “Good, like everything you attempt,” he told me.

As we went to join the others Jim and I realized that we were suppose to have brought our own chairs. Last time we went to one of these get-togethers it was the plates and silver that we were to bring for ourselves, this time it was chairs. I guess we need to study some bean dinner/ potluck, textbooks. Before I even knew what was happening Ed had given up his seat and had me seated by his lovely wife Shirley, as he took up a conversation with the fellows by the tractor. After eating and needing to stretch, us women folk got up to walk around and after I got myself a cup of coffee I drifted over to where my Husband was in a conversation with the articulate fellow who had complimented my pickles.

He tapped the resin from his pipe then refilled and lit it and the spicy warm aroma of his smoke wafted through the air. Talk was of market, gardening and the weather. Ed had said something about new people setting up at market and how the new was good, even if it gave the old ones more competition. Then Ed flourished his pipe through air with one hand as he told us how he used to read the obituary when he was young and he would see, “So and So had died at the age of 69, or 73 or 80,” and he would think, “ No big deal, they had a nice long life, it is the natural way of things, the old die, the new take over.”

But he went on to tell us, things felt a lot different to him now that he was one of those so-called old fellows, and he was walking a tightrope with life on one side and death on the other. In his seventies Ed has been in a battle with cancer. At one time he chose to have an operation that the doctors tried to discourage him from having, he would have to be tough to go through it they told him and at best it would give him two months. “I choose the two months,” he told us. When you get right up close to leaving this earth two months seems like a precious amount of time to be with your loved ones. Those two months stretched to years. Again and again he has fought the battle and again and again he has won. We were relieved when Ed informed us that the last test that was done showed him to be tumor free.

The sun slipped beyond the hill behind the house and the air grew cool. We gathered around the fire where the children roasted marshmallows. As we stood in the shadow of the hill, the sun which had been behind a mist for most of the day peeked out and cast a red glow on the forest of trees beyond the creek. As dusk fell we said our goodbyes and found our way to our cars over the now wet with dew grass. A mockingbird that had gathered his songs of imitation began to practice them to the moon, filling the now dark air with his trilling tunes, I listened to him from the car window as long as I could hear him as we drove off into the black night, on our way back home.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
Visit my forum: With the Seasons

What Level of Consciousness?

2004-09-24T07:02:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Recently I read a book by David R. Hawkins, M.D., Ph.D., entitled Power vs. Force (Hay House, 2002). He has categorized the levels of consciousness by painstaking method of simple yes and no answers asked of the human body. Is the human brain via the human body, at some primal level, like a wondrous computer linked with the universal energy field…that knows far more than it knows it knows?

Hawkins has developed a fascinating map of human consciousness which encompasses the full range and color of human experiences. It is a bold adventure that Hawkins is walking – yet it has already been walked by saints and mystics, the great spiritual teachers and pioneers in the unfoldment of human consciousness. Hawkins’ enterprise is unique (in my opinion) because it is the first time that scientific research and spirituality have walked the same path in one man.

In the Map of Consciousness, there are 17 levels, the highest being Enlightenment and the lowest being Shame-Humiliation. Each level has a number assigned somewhere between 1 and 1000, where 1000 is the highest level. From level 540 up is the domain of saints, and advanced spiritual students and healers. Level 1000 is the level of divine grace; this is the place of the Great Avatars such as Krishna, Buddha and Yeshua-Jesus.

Only 4 percent of the world’s population calibrates at an energy field of 500 or above; only 4 tenths of one percent (0.4 percent) reach 540.

A note on page 304 in Hawkins’ book indicates that the level of consciousness of mankind as a whole remained at 190 for many centuries and then suddenly jumped to its present level of 204 after the Harmonic Convergence of the late 1980s. What caused this sudden change?

Individuals hardly change during an entire lifetime. Perhaps only a 5 point increase is about the best most humans see in their evolving consciousness. Why do some people break this pattern? Why do some people show extraordinary leaps in their level of consciousness?

The answer to these questions appear to be two things, namely, motivation and influence (Hawkins uses the word context; I prefer to use the word influence). If the factors of your reality (society as a whole) are measuring only 190-204, the influences around you (your context) will hardly motivate you to move beyond your birthed level of consciousness. It requires great personal inner strength to walk a different walk than those in your family and immediate community and your nation. It is almost as though you need to shut-down these influences and live a reclusive life, where you can tap into your interior energies and allow your consciousness to move up the levels of the general human consciousness levels around you. In a sense, you die, figuratively or literally, only to be birthed at a new level of consciousness.

It seems to me, that the choice to go Within, is the best choice. The better choice would include the presence of those around you that are at a higher level of consciousness, great spiritual students/teachers and healers.

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Dig Deeper

2004-09-21T07:19:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Many years ago I was a preacher-man (another face, a different time). So it is not surprising that I think about Bible stories once in a while.

There is a story in the Bible (in the New Testament), about a day when Jesus sat by a well to talk to a Samaritan woman. In our day this is not such a remarkable story, but in his time it certainly was not the accepted thing to do. Jesus was brought up as a Jew (though he really didn’t like the label), and Jews had no dealings with the Samaritans. This social law had no bearing on Jesus, so he sat by the well and had a great conversation with a woman. A woman, mind you, not a man. It was bad enough that he spoke with a Samaritan, but it was a double no-no to sit in public with a woman! He did it; Jesus was just that sort of man.

What got me thinking about this story was an article I read the other day that was written by one of our Asamee writers, Thundering Wind. She wrote a wonderful piece that she called The Well. It is a wonderful and well-written article that speaks of her life-experiences as a woman and a writer.

Back when I was this preacher-man, I was floundering and gasping for life (much like Thundering Wind in The Well). When I read the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well, my imagination began to play with the subject of the well, more so than the communication exchange going on between Jesus and the woman. (Don’t you just hate the authors of the Bible when they don’t take time to give a name to a person? Personally, I think this speaks volumes about their prejudice. I call her Nalda.)

Have you ever thought about wells and how they are dug? And where they are located? I don’t want to make this writing a discourse on well-building, but I think it is important to note that a well isn’t just placed in a random location. Someone has to know what they are doing or else the labor of digging a well is just sweat and grit with nothing to show for it. And the well has to be a certain depth; this is important for my story.

When I was that preacher-man and floundering, gasping for breath, I came across a brilliant idea (where do you suppose it came from?). The idea was this: Sometimes a well-digger has to dig just a little deeper to find his water. Just a little bit more -- is all that it sometimes takes. What if the well-digger stops one foot short? What if he is tired and wants to go home to a hot shower and a beer? How many wells have there been that were started and not finished because the worker lost hope and gave up?

Sometimes life’s experiences gently nudge us that we need to just dig deeper.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that we stay in the same location and keep digging away in the same place. A good well-digger shifts his location to the right spot.

The preacher-man that I once was eventually shifted his location, until he found a better place to dig his well. He moved to the place of the Great Within, where the cool and abundant waters of the Spirit always flow.

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

September is so Beautiful

2004-09-19T10:54:00.000-06:00

Hurricane Ivan mellowed as he came north towards us. He lumbered through the Appalachians and then turned into an autumn Ohio storm, swelling the water ways and washing us clean with rain. Then from the north swished a cool breeze that pushed the rain east, and left us with crystal blue skies.

September charms us with yellow rays of goldenrod filling up forgotten fields, turning what once was green into seas of yellow.

Dancing in these yellow seas sways the temptress, aster. Together they weave a spell of gold and lavender, goldenrod and wild purple aster waltzing.

Sumac stands red and proud against the clear blue sky. Every little hedgerow and by-way is a-glow in the late summer sun. Red, gold, yellow, brown and green reign, as the leaves of every little vine and twig turn splendid.

Jim took our last harvest of honey off the hives yesterday and was up late into the night extracting it from the combs. This whole place smells like honey right now. The sweet aroma wafts around the house from the honey hole, (place of honey extracting). The bees are filling up the hives out back with the fall nectar, which gives off a very strong robust essence. This is the goldenrod honey, rich and dark, which they prepare to sustain them through the winter.

I have been harvesting the bittersweet; the berries on our vines are tight and peach colored and the leaves have not yet turned yellow. I gather them and take them inside to hang, where overnight the berries pop open and greet us the next morning with fire and orange. I tie these in bunches and take them to market. I enjoy working with these radiant berries and passing them on, they are something that is missed. People stop by our stand and ask the name of them, or drop off reminisces of their grandmothers picking it, or lament the demise of it in the wild.

It is a good selling plant and worth the effort as a market plant. I cannot make enough apple pie jam to take to market either. They try it, they buy it, has become our motto. There are still berries and apples to pick and squash to put in the meals with tomatoes. But we know it won’t be long, the season is signing now that it is time to make up our apple and tomato sauce’s for winter and collect the wood close to the hearth. One day soon there will be a full moon coming up on the horizon of a clear cloudless night with a chance of frost in air. We will be out grabbing the last green tomatoes to save for ripening in the house.

But oh how beautiful is every moment of this season now.
I just want to stop and stare while summer says her long goodbye with autumn kissing on her face. It wont be long before the sassafras glows red and gold and like a watercolor paints the sky with flurries of yellow swirls as she throws them all away one windy day.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Venus and Moon~7

2004-09-17T07:16:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Recently I read that Venus will soon be moving away from my early morning viewing. How sad that will be. Each morning she seems to awaken me from my deep sleep. From my bedroom window I see her first thing when I awake.

I have noticed that when I awake at around 4:15 a.m., if I look a certain direction that Venus is hiding behind the telephone pole in my backyard. This has been my observation for nearly two months, and she has barely moved from this position. Makes me wonder if Venus will ever move again from this position; she sure is slow about moving away from my sight. Maybe she has come to stay?

Soon after I arise I go outdoors to view the morning stars. Lately it is crisp and I need to add a hooded sweatshirt to my attire. Almost always I see one or two shooting stars; sometimes I think they do this because it is their way to greet me each morning. This morning I saw two, and I smiled and said, “Thank you, and I greet you as well!”

Are some of these bright blinking stars I see really ET spacecraft? Some blink bright white, others are red and there are some that are blue. Someone suggested, in an article that I read yesterday, that these blinking stars are in fact ET watchers. Hmm, I admit that I am a skeptic about this. The only purpose I have to go outdoors is to look at and commune with the stars, and also to simply enjoy the pre-dawn celestial show.

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Journey to Tele

2004-09-16T09:15:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

When the old man stepped up to cross the bridge, he paused and turned to look at his family waving good-bye to him. He knew that he would never see them again, although they did not know that. Looking at their faces, the old man was not sure if his family members were sad to see him go, or straining to wait out the next few minutes for him to be out of sight so they could go on with their lives. Waving, but not smiling, the old man turned back around and proceeded across the narrow walking bridge that was suspended above the deep canyon below.

The old man was embarking on the final trip of his life; a trip that would take him far from the land where he had lived most of that life. He went eagerly, though, without a shred of regret or remorse. As long as he could remember, the old man had always wanted to see the sacred city of Tele, and now he was finally going. The only uncertainty was whether his tired old body would survive the grueling 800 mile trip.

Halfway across the foot bridge, the old man stopped and turned around for one last look at his family and the land that had been his home. The look was quick, though, as others were crossing the bridge behind him and he did not want to hold up traffic. After seeing his waving family briefly, he then looked down at the deep canyon below him. Far below was a small ribbon of a river. The old man could see birds flying above the river. It was odd to be so far above the birds. Holding on to the side ropes to steady a growing uneasiness, he regained his balance and looked ahead, slowly resuming his walk across the bridge.

When he reached the other side, the old man did not look back. As he stepped onto the path that would take him out of the mountains, his focus remained on the journey ahead.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, September 15, 2004

2004-09-15T15:30:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit Within – A Journey Into Oneness.

Peter & Gabriel, do you have a message for all today please?

Yes, we are very happy you have remembered to ask us for this. This is a time of great change for many, the shift in consciousness is making great impact on all, more so on those with things they need to heal and release. It is all coming up to be looked at. If you have been stuck in a place of inaction, then it will be made more noticeable, it will be highlighted, so you can progress through all that has held you back. Look to your issues of fear and concerns right now, and seek to understand these fully. Try not to avoid experiencing these, for they will come back stronger and stronger until you do something to make changes to move forward. It is helpful to remember that your true self is always aware of all that you are not. Rely on your own inner sense of knowing, the little voice that speaks to you quietly, from your heart, and not your mind, not your emotions, is the one to pay attention to now. Trust when you feel guided to make large changes in your physical everyday circumstances. You are being helped to move into alignment with your soul’s purposes now. For those that have not yet awakened to their spirituality, this will be a big surprise, when they feel the sense of their eternal beings guiding them. Please try to help those that you see floundering now, if you feel you are able to. Give guidance which is appropriate to help others find their own way. Seek not to have others follow your way, only. Allow them theirs. If you see they need assistance, and they ask for it, then offer your understanding and assistance. Seek not to correct others if they are happy and comfortable, and feel at ease. Remember that our central core is Love, always love. All that is not love will become clear, more and more. You will be better able to discern the illusion from the reality of your existence. Your existence is in many levels of awareness, dear ones. You are not just able to connect with your own wisdom and experiences, but you are also able to connect with ANY wisdom and experience, by your intention. Seek to understand the paths others walk, and this may help widen your awareness, and feel more compassion. In closing, we shall tell you that in the near future life may seem turbulent, but always remember that chaos turns into order when you are intending to go with the flow around you, it will feel like you no longer want to resist anything. Accept the turbulent times as easily as you do the calm ones, and you will remain centered in your being, in your peace, in your heart. Be well, dear hearts. You are dearly loved.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

As the Storm Rides

2004-09-12T09:47:00.000-06:00

Watching the storm sweep through the sky,

Is where we stand, you and I.

You and I know that right on the other side

Of the dark cloud, comes the bright day.

This one is dedicated to Mindy. She knows why.

The Sacred and the Profane

2004-09-10T06:10:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

It is nearly two months since I last did some serious writing for the two books I am trying to bring to completion. I have been so busy with business that I have neglected my love for writing.

It is interesting to me that I feel reluctant to jump right in and begin writing again. Why do I place this restriction upon myself? I know that when I begin to write again that the work will flow and there will be no appearance that I took such a long break in order to give attention to other things.

Time is not important. Whether it is one minute, one hour, one day or three months or a year – the writings that I do hardly recognize my constructs of linear time frames.

On one level I still battle to some extent with feelings of guilt. That is part of the reluctance I feel in beginning to give attention again to my writing efforts. I am also reluctant because I feel that I have been so occupied with engineering work that I judge myself to be somewhat rusty in spirituality. It is as though I am saying that angels cannot visit a man threshing hay in the field or a woman in the garden picking flowers. We all know that such restrictions are absolutely ridiculous!

Why am I writing the way I am today? I am doing this in order to give the reader some understanding of the mental gymnastics we humans sometimes go through in terms of our spiritual life. I believe it is this kind of activity we put ourselves through that gives birth to dualism in many of us, and the result is that we grant spirituality only to special men and women. This particular attitude presents us with a division between the so-called sacred and the profane. This is why we humans create religion and religious leaders...we do this because we judge our ordinary life as unable or somehow unfit for the magical, mystical and the spiritual.

One day we will all wake up and see that there is no division; there are no special people that are spiritual and ordinary people who are not spiritual. What a wonderful day it will be when we are all awake and see that everyONE is a spiritual being, and that no one is more or less spiritual than another.

Now (for me), it is time to give attention once again to the books I am writing!

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

The Great Chicken Robbery

2004-09-09T08:35:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

When I was in high school I worked as a head cook at a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant. One night, just as closing time approached, I finished up all my work and went to tell the manager I was leaving. He, and a manager trainee, were getting ready to start the night's paperwork. The counter girl was about to lock the doors and then count her money.

I clocked out and headed for the front door. The counter girl was maybe ten feet behind me with the keys to lock the door after I left. As I left the front door of the restaurant, three young stocky men came into the door. I nodded and said hello as I passed them. I remember thinking, "Whoops, more customers. I guess they're not closing just yet." I was out of there, though, so I never looked back.

What I didn't know is that those three burly men were not last minute customers, but rather robbers who had come in to rob the restaurant. Just seconds after I passed them, they pulled a gun on the counter girl who was going out to lock the door. They then brought her into the back into the manager's office. They then made the manager open the safe then they beat him over the head with the gun butt, giving him a concussion. After gathering all the money, they locked the manager, manager trainee, and the counter girl in the freezer, where they were trapped until the other manager came in the next morning.

I went home and slept soundly, went to school the next day, and then after school I went in to work. That is when I finally found out about it. I was blown away by how close I came to being part of that little drama.

It was that counter girl who was telling me everything that happened. After recounting all the grisly details, she cocked her head to one side, and said, "You know, I'm glad you left just before it happened."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Cuz you would have tried to do something heroic and someONE would've gotten shot. You would've tried to take all three of those guys out."

My mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe she would think that. Didn't she know that I was an extreme pacifist? It shocked me to hear her say that, but it also made me think, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was correct. Subsequent experiences in my life have reiterated that fact.

I have come to realize that I have no doubt as to my ability to defend myself if my life were threatened. This doubt is easy to have when one has never exercised those defensive abilities. The reason I have no doubt is because I have experienced another aspect of myself that was an Indian warrior on the Great Plains during the White Man/Indian wars. I have experienced several very strong interfaces with his being; interfaces that were essentially a full stepping into his being, and having him step fully into me.

This other aspect was a warrior; a murderer. He killed hundreds of people. He was an utterly fearless warrior. He thought nothing of going up against a dozen adversaries all at once. He simply had no fear. I have felt his strength and his fighting spirit, and most of all his extreme fearlessness. It's one of the most intense things I've ever felt. If I am in danger I can call him forth and let him take over my body. He has stepped into my body before, and let me tell you, it is a mind-blowing and body-blowing experience. I never experienced fearlessness in this life until he stepped into my body. I never experienced such raw intense energy. I've never felt so invincible.

Imagine growing up an extreme pacifist with lingering subconscious memories of being a savage warrior who killed many people. This warrior aspect of mine has a lot to do with why I'm an extreme pacifist, and he is also a big reason I am able to be such a staunch pacifist. Feeling his warrior mojo intensified my pacifist leanings, but more importantly, it taught me a lot about fear. Overcoming fear is a huge part of being a successful warrior, but paradoxically it is also a huge part of being a successful pacifist.

Fear is what magnetically attracts to us that which we fear. So any self-defense we may need would only be a self-defense against our own fears. Any dragon we feel compelled to slay is only one of our own fears. Fears need not be slain; just merely let go of, and replaced with self-love...which every fear is designed to lead us back to. Not until we truly love our selves can we truly be pacifists. When we love our selves, and do not live in fear, then those fears will not present themselves as something to be slain. There is no need for violence or self-defense.

In a state of duality, one attracts that which one projects. Project violence; you get violence. Project fear; you get something to fear. Project love without fear, and get love without fear. Pacifism is not just about not hitting other humans, but it's also about being in a state of joy and love that only attracts more love and joy. When in this state of joy and love, one's guidance will make sure you are not in a place of danger. The vibrations will be very dissonant to you, and you'll just want to go somewhere else. Your house can be right atop an earthquake fault, but the day of the earthquake you'll get the urge to leave town. It won't be a fear, though; just an urge. A true pacifist must decipher between one's guidance and one's fear. Following one's fear will always eventually lead one to the object or subject of that fear. Following one's guidance leads us to the love and joy that is underneath all those fears. So pacifism has a lot to do with following our guidance and not giving into fear.

It was my guidance that kept me out of that restaurant robbery scenario (just barely). At the time I really didn't have any fear of that situation, so I didn't attract it directly to me. I'm sure the other people involved would say that they never intended to attract something like that to them, but it's not a matter of conscious intention so much as subconscious vibratory attraction. Our guidance will take us anywhere we want to go, but when we don't follow our guidance, fear kicks in and will lead us to the same love and joy and understanding that our guidance will lead us to, but it will lead us there through all those fears. Violence is not the pacifist's most imposing obstacle. It is, rather, fear. One cannot be a victim without fear.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, September 8, 2004

2004-09-08T07:12:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Peter & Gabriel, would you like to give a message or shall I ask you some questions this week?

Whatever you prefer to do Barb, is fine with us. Either way.

Alright, well I really need reassurance on some things happening in the world and in my life, and I would like you to speak about what can I do, along with everyone else that wants to, to hurry up and heal and transform into the new way of being everyone talks about! What is coming and how can we help to usher in the new age of what I feel can only be better than this age we’re in.

This is quite a serious subject that many are discussing these days. There are so many perspectives on this, and yes even the guidance from spirit may tend to be varied and focus on other things than what we will share. It doesn’t make any other messages more or less valid, so it’s just something we perceive for your future, according to the strongest probabilities that exist now.

When humanity collectively embraces working toward a peaceful future, then there shall be peace. When humanity collectively embraces surrendering to unconditional love, from all and for all, then that shall be the way of life on Earth. When humanity chooses joy over sorrow, then no one shall be an oppressor, and there shall be no point in even trying to oppress another, when all are creators of lives of joy. Humanity needs to become self-empowered, instead of looking to their leaders to create a better life. Humanity needs leaders at the local levels looking after their neighbors. This is possible in any area, with leadership by ones who truly care for others. All may experience a surge of economic growth when just a few are given the skills and taught how to be self-sufficient. To be wealthy is a different standard in many areas, and wealthiness may best include the terms of necessary food, shelter and medicine for all. Seek to become wealthy and self-empowered in all ways, physical and spiritual. Do not lose sight of the spiritual needs of others, and you will be supported as you support others. Look after one another, as best you can. Turn not to others if you can do something for yourself. Know that you are your own teacher, always. Seek to know what you are teaching yourself every day. Is it right and true? Look to become self-empowered by opening up windows of opportunity, looking beyond the normal and customary living, into the living you would prefer and you know would empower your walk through life. Dream big for yourself and others, when they are failing to dream. Encourage one another. Be well. We dearly love you, all of you.

Creator Bless! God Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Those Who Make You Wonder

2004-09-05T11:24:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

Of all of the people that we have had the privilege to get to know this summer at the farm market, Amish Man Dan and his family are the ones who intrigue me the most. Their whole way of living from the land, staying out of the system and adhering to an old, forgotten by the rest of us, way of life makes me long to learn more about them. I have never seen children who love to work like their children do.

To the Amish children work is play. We have seen them compete with each other and scramble to get a job done. They show much delight in doing the best job that they can do. Little John is only two and one day I watched as he piled the muskmelons that his father had put to his care into a display for the market crowd. Every once in a while his chubby little fingers would lose grasp of one and it would roll away and with all his might he would wobble out to retrieve it and then he grasped the round melon with both arms and with all seriousness and firm determination he would get it back to the top of the pile. Later I glanced back and was blessed by the look of pride on Little John’s face when his father came by and smiled at the muskmelons piled high.

We took our wagon to unload at their home after market Saturday and six children came out to greet us. They immediately saw what needed to be done and the little ones climbed into the wagon and started handing produce to the larger ones and us, which we all then placed on the table in the shade. An older Amish girl had gone into the house to fetch a broom and just as the produce was clear from the wagon, she jumped in and swept out the left over scraps. We were there unloaded and gone in less then five minutes time.

Emma the mother of the nine is such a cheerful soul, she says that her time to rest will be here in the winter, when she is sitting by the fire, quilting and watching the birds that she delights in feeding through her window. She put up 92 quarts of tomato juice Tuesday she told me, the day that she cut open a watermelon at market and shared it with us. Still she had the tomato sauce and whole tomatoes for soup to do. One time as we were unloading she was standing there thinking and writing something down on a scrap piece of paper, “Are you making a list,” I asked her? She handed it to me and it was a recipe for the watermelon pickles that I had shown an interest in when Dan had told me how she makes them. Muskmelon with vanilla, it sounds so good.

We have been around Dan more than any of the Amish, as he is the only one who always comes to market. I have enjoyed his lively sense of humor and quick smiles throughout these three seasons. We got to talking about growing vegetables without pesticides one day. If a vegetable is not sprayed it will be a little bug eaten at times and how people don’t like to see holes in their food even if it is chemical free.

Then he told me about this one fellow who in the spring kept coming to his stand and asking for sweet corn because he had some of Dan’s sweet corn the year before and he had decided that it was the best. So he was watching and waiting for Dan’s corn to come and every market day he would be asking about it. Well finally some corn was ready and this fellow was the first to buy some. Then this fellow came back the next week and he said that there were a few corn worms on the tip of the corn that he had bought from Dan. Amish Man Dan covered his mouth as he told me, “ Maybe I should not have said this to him, but I couldn’t resist, I told him, Well, I guess it is true that the early bird gets the worm!”

Ah yes Dan he is always so funny. One day he stopped by our house to let us know that he would need the wagon, I was setting off towards the berry brambles up alongside the cow pasture and I mentioned my concerns about the bulls. I told him that when I am out there with the cows I always kept my mind on the location of the nearest good climbing tree in case I ever had to dash up it.

Dan then showed me what to do if a bull ever charged at me. He said what you do is you take off your hat and you roar like a mad man, and he preceded to demonstrate this scare tactic to me as he pulled his Amish straw hat from his head and waved it frantically in the air, his grey black beard swaying to and fro and him roaring like a lion. I couldn’t be scared of the bulls as I picked berries that day for the remembrance of Dan roaring at them like lion kept me smiling. But I did keep my eyes on the nearest tree just in case.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

A Memoir

2004-09-04T01:00:00.000-06:00

by Yen Dang

This is a mostly unedited version (it contains more of the original) of a memoir I wrote in creative writing class. *Names have been changed.

I remember him. We used to talk at recess in the spring where the sun shined outside and in the lunchroom in the winter where everyone gathered amongst the bustling din. I had met him at Sarandon Middle School* first where I asked about the book Le Petit Prince and his knowledge of French. I was still interested in French back then.

During lunch we used to talk even including his other students at the table. The seventh grade students adored Mr. Gregory*, and even though I was an eighth grader and had never had him as a teacher, I think I adored him as well. I remember one time we talked about how I liked astrology, so much so that I'd brought my book of astrology with me to school, along with numerous notes taken on the subject itself. When I read to him the description of a person with a Leo Ascendant (which applied to me) that said: "'People with Leo rising have delicate, round faces, often with a full head of hair, shining teeth, and a beautiful, dazzling smile,'"** he said, "Right on." And I smiled. He was always generous with compliments.

I remember one time a student of his, Sammy,* asked, "Why are you the hairy man-ape that you are?" Though Mr. Gregory didn't have a head of long, wavy hair, the hair on his arms and body was compensation enough. Tufts of dark, brown hair sticking out of the dress shirts that he used to wear. It would even stick out through the cuffs of his sleeves, and perhaps through the collar of his shirt. I never knew why he would wear long-sleeved dress shirts even when spring came around and it became hot. I suppose it was to cover up all that hair.

He used to wear cardigans too, most often accompanied by a dazzling smile and shining teeth. The bridge of his nose became a mystery when one of the students asked if he had gotten into a barfight that caused a strange but small flatness on the bridge.

One time that same student, Sammy, saw me talking to Mr. Gregory, and again asked, "Is she your daughter?" To that, he laughed and replied, "Sometimes." Of course, he probably didn't want to hurt my feelings by saying, "No." That incident took place in the springtime when it was hot outside and kids played football on the grassy school lawn. I remember the sun shining hotly, the cast shadow on the concrete area by the entrance doors and me just standing there talking, facing away from the sun when Sammy asked that question.

Soon the time came for graduation. The graduation ceremony would take place at a different school this time at Geffery High School.* Fortunately, I lived close by needing only to walk six to seven blocks to get there. I walked there in the early afternoon and arrived to a crowd of students huddled by the front doors. I arrived in a navy blue shirt, a black skirt, and black high heels. My hair was long and black, and loose except for two strands held back by hair clips.

The graduation ceremony was very much like a high school commencement. We would be seated in rows while one by one a student would come up to get a certificate when his or her name would be called. And since my last name started with a "D," I sat in the first row. During the commencement, I saw Mr. Gregory sitting before us about six feet back from the announcer. I caught him from the corner of my eye.

He was still sitting there listening to music after the students and parents gathered in the lobby to receive refreshments. Hearing the soft classical music pouring from the radio, I had a grand idea. I wanted to show him the classical piano music I'd been listening to that spring, the music of Franz Liszt. But as I was expressing this, I knew Mr. Gregory would have a wait for me to race home and back.

"Hi Yen. What's up?"
"Hi. Are you going to be here for long? I wanted to show you some classical piano but do you think you can wait?"
"Sure, I'll be here, " he replied.

So that afternoon, I stepped onto the baking concrete sidewalk, that first step in black high heels. I walked swiftly, feeling my legs burn with each step, a shot of adrenaline in my heart with every other step. I knew where I wanted to go: the short way. I would walk a block straight ahead, then take a right, not by the busy street but by the residential houses behind the busy street. I quickened my pace as I neared my block and my house.

I was in my house for such a short while, saying a quick hello and goodbye to my brothers then rushing up to my room to grab two CDs. Then I had to set out in the sun again. By the time, I came back to the school building, everyone had left. A teacher whom I recognized came up to me and said, "Mr. Gregory's waiting for you."

By then, I was exhausted. After all, it was June and I could feel the prickly heat and sweat on my forehead, and a great warmth rising from my chest. After that walk, it seemed all enthusiasm was drenched by a quickened breath and a sudden weariness. As I approached him, I heard him say, "I'm sorry. They closed the building right after you left." Now, the only thing I could do was to show him the contents of the CD cases and slowly walk back to where his car was parked.

"Are you okay?" he asked, amidst a lagging walk and downcast eyes beside him.
I replied, "Yes. I'm just really tired from walking all that way."
"Are you sure? Is there something wrong with your shoes?"
"No," I reassured him, "Just that my thighs hurt."

We strolled back in the direction of his car, catching up on small talk, nothing big after such a disappointment. But even that talk was reassuring. He recommended a book to me, Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins, and mentioned he was taking a road trip to Arizona that summer. I gladly listened. When we stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, it was time to part. He gave me a half-hug with his arm around my back and shoulder. I patted his back in return. I said goodbye, but didn't see him get in his car. I then crossed the street and continued walking, thinking of going home.

**description taken from the book, The Only Astrology Book You'll Ever Need by Joanna Martine Woolfolk, Copyright 1990. New York; Scarborough House/Publishers.

Copyright © 2004, by Yen Dang. All Rights Reserved.

The Full Moon

2004-09-03T06:44:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

From my Journal:

(A Preface to the Journal for the sake of introducing the reader to me: I work part-time from my home as an engineer in order to supplement my retirement income. But the past few weeks I have been working intensely like I was a forty-year old man. This past Sunday I had to travel to the headquarters of the company I do work for, which is located 250 miles to the south in Tucson.)

It is 3:00 AM when I am writing this. I was so tired last evening that I was in bed and fast asleep by 8:00 PM! I would prefer to still be in bed and sound asleep – but I am not...so, I write.

Tomorrow is Friday and it is my scheduled day to publish in the Asamee Writers Group cyberworld blog, and here is what I will write:

I chose to drive from my home in the mountain town of Prescott to Tucson on Sunday afternoon, August 29th. Sunday was a Full Moon Day, only I had completely forgotten.

I began my drive south to Tucson around 5:00 PM, which meant that some of my trip would be after sunset, which I usually love to do. But because I was already quite tired, I was not looking forward to traveling on a busy Interstate highway in the dark.

Normally, on this southward bound route, I am not bothered by the setting sun. Sunday, however, there was a detour off the Interstate for construction purposes. The detour took us eastward, then south and then west in order to connect again to the Interstate. As I headed west the timing was perfect for the setting sun. Have you ever driven west on a road directly in line with the sun during sunset? It was blinding. The sun was low on the horizon; I could not read the signs. The blinding light from the sun became so intense that I had to slow down, and hoped the drivers behind me slowed down too. As best I could, using my one free hand to shield the sun, I glimpsed at a sign indicating my exit from the detour and trusted that I was following the right turn-off. I guessed correctly and soon began to turn south and merge with the Interstate heading south to Tucson.

Traffic was heavy for this time of the day. Though we were nearly bumper to bumper, we were still speeding along at 75 MPH.

As I already mentioned, Sunday was a Full Moon Day and I had forgotten. As I drove south, the darkness of the night slowly descended. It was around 7:30 PM when something in the southeastern sky caught my attention. Off in the distant horizon I saw a most beautiful sight – it was the Full Moon rising between two mountain ranges!

How can I begin to describe what I saw?

The Moon was utterly and fantastically huge on the horizon. It was not yellow or orange; the Moon was a light crimson red and nearly took my breath away. Oh, how I wished that I was traveling on a lonely country road, where I could easily pull my car over and stop to get out of my car to be alone with this lovely Moon. Nonetheless, flying along at 75 MPH, I still felt deeply blessed to see this wondrous sight of the Full Moon Rise.

I continued traveling south and soon lost sight of the Moon as large and high mountains blocked her from me.

Then she appeared again; she was now higher on the horizon and peaked at me near the edge of a high mountain. The mountain was silhouetted against the night sky, and the Moon was brushing the mountain’s flank. The Moon’s color had changed since I last saw her rising on the horizon. Now she had the color of a creamy, pastel yellow flower. She stayed in my vision for a long time, until she was too high in the sky for me to see.

I did watch the Moon slowly change her colors, like she was trying on different colored garments. It also occurred to me that there were lively gnomes and fairies busily washing her face, until she shined bright white in the Arizona evening sky.

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Right Reserved.

Happiness in Marriage

2004-09-02T00:18:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

No one can make a person happy except that person. You can express happiness, but you can't force another to be happy. That is an infringement of free-will. A marriage is a contract between two individuals to experience a time-frame together but each individual is responsible for their own happiness. When one individual looks to the other for happiness, they will never find the real deal because the real deal can only be found within. They may still find a lot of good stuff together, but the real deal is within. When one individual attempts to force their perception of happiness on the other, that short-circuits both individual's ability to find happiness within.

We marry someone because we love them. Of course we want them to be happy. But it is not our duty to make them happy, because we can't! All we can do is go within ourselves and find our own true happiness and then exude it and project it out for our partner to see how grand the happiness within can be. But you can't force a partner, or anyone, to go within. You can only be an example.

If you feel like your spouse's happiness is your responsibility, then you're going to feel guilty every time they're not happy. Why would you do that to yourself? You're loading yourself down with sticky gooey tarry guilt for not doing something that you can't do anyway. And then, the more unhappy he/she is, the more guilt you feel, and then arises the possibility of you blaming him/her for your guilt. This is keeping you from finding your happiness within. The only way off this emotional see-saw is to just stop. You've got to get off the seesaw long enough in order to go within.

Happiness is something that we share with our partner. We share our own happiness with them, but we do not impose that happiness on them and we do not try to direct their happiness. All we can do is share unconditionally. The very second we expect a certain type of response or the very second we judge a response that we are getting, we are being conditional, and we're back on that seesaw. If we are sharing our happiness with our mate and we are EXPECTING ANYTHING AT ALL IN RETURN!, then we are not sharing unconditionally.

No one can keep you from the birthright that is your happiness within unless you allow them to--and even then it is still YOU that are keeping yourself from finding the happiness within through your allowance. Just don't blame him/her. That's just more sticky gooey tar for the mix.

Blame, fear, doubt, sorrow, anger...whew, it can get pretty sticky and gooey and tarry. But how do we get out of sticky, gooey tar? By releasing all judgment! Expectations are a judgment. In releasing expectations and other judgments that we hold about our partner, we find a whole new layer of expectations and judgments we didn't even know we had. We release those and then we find another whole layer of expectations and judgments. Most marriage partnerships have many, many layers of goo. It can take a while to release all those many layers of expectaions and judgments, but when we do and our partner is still there, then we've got a pretty darn good love bond with them. And if, after all the releasing of judgment, the partner is no longer there; that is okay, too, because we will have found our happiness. If we are holding fear and doubt and expectation as to whether or not they will still be there, then we are just adding more judgment rather than releasing it. And if we are dependent in any way on them for our happiness, then we will never find it.

Yes, what I am saying may sound extreme, but it is the point everyone will eventually get to, so we may as well start thinking about it now to help draw that point closer to you. Every single relationship reaches a point where the two individuals must release each other. It is my contention that you cannot truly love someone until you completely release them. To me, the wedding seems to be the best time to release someone. That almost never happens. Most of us won't release our mates until either we or they die--and even then many of us won't release. Marriage is too often used as a crutch rather than a co-creative partnership. We hold on to our partners for dear life and in the process we strangle each other and keep each other from the happiness within. Release.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, September 1, 2004

2004-09-01T08:45:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Peter & Gabriel, do you have a message for everyone today?

Yes, Barb, we are pleased to offer one. Today we will speak of knowing yourselves. Who do you think you are? That is what you are. Is it possible to change what you think of yourself, and change who you are? Certainly. For you are divine sparks of God, the Perfect Creator. God gave you the free will to choose for yourselves what you shall be. Know this, you are not limited except as you think you are. How many have watched the Olympic Games recently? Do you normally see that level of physical achievement in your day to day surroundings? Probably not. Is that why you admire the athletes so much, for their devotion and hard work and dreams which they try to make come true? It could be that the Olympic athletes are an inspiration to you, those of you who are not even interested in athletic achievement, too. For what is it to be able to do that which does not come easily? Is it a miracle what those who have worked diligently on perfecting their physical form and abilities, nay it is not a miracle, it is their own efforts to make their dreams happen. Have they got the usual 9-5 job, no, far from it. Is it a job to them? We dare say not. It is a passion, a thrill, a quest to seek improvement of themselves. This is applicable to every life. For as you seek to become, and apply yourself in appropriate ways, so you shall become. Knowing yourself means knowing what you are capable of, both now and in the future. It means understanding what holds you back, and what moves you forward. It is knowing your inspiration, your passion, your love of life. What motivates you? Do you seek to become more and more, always, or are you content with your life? Know yourself, and what you want from life. It may be more possible than you realize to make your dreams happen. Give this some thought. Focus your attention on what you shall be creating in your life. Don’t let life happen to you, make life happen for you. Turn your lives around and within, and know what would make you more joyful, more peaceful, more whole and complete. For you are not as limited as you believe yourselves to be. We urge you all to take time every so often to focus your attention on what improvements you would like to see in your life, and what it will take to make them happen. Instead of spending all your precious time and energy on keeping up…seek to expand and live life to the fullest. Life is such a blessing! Enjoy your lives and seek to increase those moments of harmony with your soul’s desires. We love you all most dearly.

Creator Bless! God Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

The Beckoning

2004-08-29T10:58:00.000-06:00

My bridegroom beckoned,
He has informed me of what to wear.
Feathers and beads like veils within my hair.
“Prepare a cape of woolen brown,” says he.
“Warm suede boots to touch the ground.
Have a ritual with Storm.

Your bridegroom awaits you.”

And he spoke of where he would find me.
Beside crystal flowing streams.
Where stone and water meet.
And little fish dance,
Upon our feet.

“Travel by mule over rocky glen, said he,
To find the way within.
Ride with wolf, hawk and bear.
Polar Bear White, she is the mother,
In the cold dark night.
Hawk, he is the one who sees far.
Wolf why, he is your brother.

Prepare three weeks, cleanse with fruit and labor.
The time will come to go,
Three days on sturdy mules, beside moss, riding with kin.
Pausing near flowing sparkling water,
In person,
Crystal aspersion
With no stains.

It is there we will meet again.

Feathers will drift in, from near and far.
They will speak of who you really are.
Gold, bronze, black, brown,
And white.
Look for them, you will see them.
They each hold a piece of the vision.

Wear your hair like in a crown,
The music of the earth will guide you,
The air of the portals sustain you

The path will be laid out, prepare and follow.”
And then he whisperd back to me before he temporarily parted.
“Whatever you do, don’t start Thinking,
That you are dreaming.
Thinking isn’t Real.
Feeling is.

I will wait for you there.”

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Venus and Moon~6

2004-08-27T06:12:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

I am not alone. There are many others who awake early and go outdoors to gaze heavenward (and I am not referring to professional star-watchers).

Venus is the focus of our attraction.

This morning I woke at 4:33 AM, one half hour later than usual – but there she was, waiting patiently for me to look at her. She is so bright that sometimes I think she is coming closer to earth.

Here is what I saw elsewhere on the Internet and what others are saying about their experience with Venus:

It is colossal, massive and gigantic. I am truly out of words! [and from another] Venus is definitely getting closer to us now [Aug 24]. It´s closer than last week as I´m looking at it with my telescope. [and from another] To me, it is getting bigger. I have been watching this for months now, and if it’s Venus or not, something is not right, it is getting way to big and bright. It is just above the tree lines on the West Coast USA [Aug 24], in the eastern sky. [and from another] Venus does not do this every year. I have never seen it like this before [Aug 24] and I´m an amateur astronomer. It is getting closer to us. [and from another] I don’t care what anyone says about Venus and her movements. I’ve watched the sky all my life. There has never been anything this huge hanging in the NE sky [Aug 25] in Australia before, why suddenly is Venus appearing so large? [and from another] I have watched the night sky my whole life and Venus has never been so large [Aug 25]. Compared to last month it definitely is closer. I am starting to fear something is wrong. [and from another] I saw it at 5:15 AM [Aug 24], I live in the East Coast, for all I know it might be Venus but this thing is huge, it´s not even the brightness that got me it´s the size, why is this not mentioned in media outlets, the size is amazing. [and from another] I have never in my 68 years seen anything in the sky that looks like that. I have worked days, nights, come and go at all hours, and have never seen Venus look like that. [and from another] From here it looks like Nancy Lieder was right. Venus is not making a complete transit and is getting pushed back towards Earth. Venus is brighter every day. [and from another] Simple fact is I have often looked up at a nights sky and thought to myself oh look there´s Venus, but never has it looked this big and bright. For me [Aug 26] it´s doubled in size and brightness. [and from another] Compared to 2 weeks ago [Aug 26] Venus has gotten much brighter

When you do wake early some morning, look out your window toward the eastern sky and see what others are seeing. Venus is beautiful and worth an early morning look-see.

Copyright © by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Perspectives on Forgiveness

2004-08-26T00:03:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

I can understand why so many people don't care to learn about their other focuses (other lives). A lot of painful things can be brought up and it's not always easy to process. You can imagine how difficult it was for me to learn about and connect with my other focus as a Lakota warrior. That Lakota warrior is a killing machine. He killed a lot of people--and I don't mean dozens of people, but rather HUNDREDS of people! In connecting with him, I felt that killing, and let me tell you, it is a heinous feeling. It is gut-wrenchingly heinous. It is the ultimate deplorable act. To feel the accumulated energy of HUNDREDS of those acts is about the toughest thing I've had to do in this life.

It's no wonder I'm such a super-ultra-pacifist in this life. I've never struck another human. Even as a little kid I was extreme. I didn't even kill bugs. I've always strived to not kill anything. Not even black widow spiders. I won't even swat flies.

So am I reacting to an interdimensional impingement? Am I balancing out that fella's killing with my ultra-pacifism? Are he and I just playing different roles?

Remember I said that we all take turns playing all the roles. We all have other focuses that have killed or been a persecutor or a victim. It's part of experiencing this reality in its entirety (so that we can move on). But since we judge those actions as wrong and bad, they get locked up in a little room in our brains with all the other things we've labeled wrong and bad. With those things locked in that room, we don't have to think about it or face it. That's one reason it's so hard to connect to other focuses; because the actions of those focuses--which is a way to connect to them--has been judged and labeled and locked away.

The key to it all is forgiveness. Forgiveness is the dropping away of judgments. Judgments are like sticky gooey tar. Whenever one judges something this sticky gooey tar is secreted and sticks to that which we judge. This sticky gooey tar connects us to that which we judge. It will continue to glue us to that which we judge until we forgive; releasing those judgments.

Now let's talk about guilt for a minute. Guilt is utterly dependent on judgment. You can't feel guilty about something unless you have judged that something to be wrong and bad. Once again, it is forgiveness that overcomes guilt. The dropping away of judgments. Living in guilt can be seen as a condition of living in excessive sticky gooey tar; the result of being excessively judgmental.

Our other focuses have committed all the atrocities; murder, rape, persecution, torture, theft, abuse....everything. And we are stuck in stick gooey tar from the collective guilt from all those atrocities. The only way out of the sticky gooey tar is to forgive all those other focuses. (That's a big part of what other-life regression is all about.) We have to drop our judgments. We cannot forgive our selves until we can forgive our other focuses. And we cannot forgive others until we have forgiven our selves. See how important it is to forgive our selves? It's the only way out of the sticky gooey tar that is keeping us from evolving into a new paradigm of consciousness.

I know it is difficult to face the atrocities of our other lives. Believe me, I know. But I've learned that we will eventually face them because we're stuck to them with sticky gooey tar. Everything that we judge will eventually come back to us because of the sticky gooey tar that results from judgment. It will be stuck to us until we release the judgment (Forgiveness). In the past I have fought it and denied it, but I have eventually come to learn that forgiveness is the only way.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, August 25, 2004

2004-08-25T12:04:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

This is a message originally shared on January 16, 2003, when I was just beginning to channel.

We are here. We ask you to relax, to breathe deep. We are going to have you meditate with us. The mind reels with much new information today. You need to sometimes stop the mind from working, we mean the brain function, and listen to the messages coming through your heart instead. Your solar plexus. This feeling center is to be trusted to reveal the truth. You will sense within when a message is not resonating within yourself. Do not trust what makes you anxious or tense or upset. Know that these may cause fear. Know that sometimes there are beings who sometimes relay information in hopes of gaining control over you through your emotions. Be true to yourselves! Always trust your inner knowing. This is the part of you that reflects God's love to you always. God, Our Creator, blesses every living creature with a Divine tuning rod. This rod is all light and is always able to connect you to your higher self. You each have an unlimited connection to Creator within yourself. When information becomes burdensome and heavy know that the weight of it may pull you down. No matter how much you want to learn, or think you need to know, you already have all knowledge inside of you that you need. You need to learn from yourself, from your Higher Self, rather from an external source. Oh yes, sometimes the quest may be fun and interesting when you are taking in new vistas. We know this is true. In the bigger picture, however, you are ignoring your own Divine Spark! You may begin to feel lighter now. You may feel us sending you extra love energy now. We will spread this love and light until you release your heaviness. Go ahead and relax. We will work with this using our own energy. You do not need to do anything except let God use our energy to assist. Breathe deeply. Close your eyes if you want. Envision a color in your original blackness. Envision a color start to lighten you and lift you up, beyond the blackness. We hold you gently in our arms and tell you that you will be alright. You are a beloved child of Creator. Each person has been created as part of God and will return to God, in their timing. All have made the choice to perceive themselves. If you are here then you are perceiving of yourself. We would like for all to perceive their Oneness now. Understand that everywhere you turn is an aspect of God, Our Creator. Whatever you think, you are thinking with the mind of the Creator. Truly all you experience, all you feel, all you love will remain a part of God, Our Creator always. Know this and trust that Creator embraces all of Itself. Give yourself time to understand your paths. Do not hurry so fast that you miss the small gifts left for you along the way. Look down and realize who your fellow travelers on the path are. They may be very small and seemingly insignificant at times. All are valued equally by Creator. Everything that is is unique and loved greatly. Keep sharing your thoughts with each other. This is a reflection process that you are in. You are never alone. Share your truths with nature if you wish to. Sometimes human beings think unkind thoughts about others truths. This is judgment. Everyone has their own truths to discover and you all have questions. Speak lovingly to one another. You will find many fellow travelers searching for light and love. Do what you can. We ask that you reflect love to all you see. This will allow you to rise higher into the spiritual realms. We love you greatly!

Creator Bless! God Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

A Whole New World

2004-08-22T11:16:00.001-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

I was washing up honey jars in the kitchen sink when I got to thinking about what the now retired bee-keeper Mr. Burgeaff said to me one day while we were talking with him. My husband was buying some of his old bee equipment when Mr. Burgeaff, with his kind gentlemanly smile, looked right at me, a new bee-keepers wife, and he gave me this prediction “You are about to enter a whole new world.” How intriguing, I thought at the time.

My husband interrupted my thoughts as he came through the kitchen to grab some pails to take down the road to the bramble patch. I finished up the jars and went out the kitchen door to take some scraps to the chickens. It was then that I heard the hum. The unmistakable roar of a swarm of bees. I looked up to see a large loose mass of them swirling above the apiary. I could tell that they had not been away from their mother hive for long as they were still in the wide-open scattered stage. Some of them were flying out and then back again to the nucleus of the swarm. The way the whole group of bees appears to roll always reminds me of a hurricane.

As I watched this honeybee hurricane I let the wonder of it wash over me, soaked it in for a moment there in our back yard; the thrill of the honeybee in swarm. I never cease to be awed by the fellowship of a swarm. The power of all of those bees of one mind intrigues me. They are going free, anxious to be independent of the mother hive. It gives me a feeling of new inspiration; watching those offshoots, making their multiplying flight. I knew that my husband would want to know about our bee hurricane and that if he could get to them in time he might be able to retrieve these run-away honey bees. Our daughter came around the smoke house corner exclaiming, “Mom! A swarm!”

If you want things to get exciting around our house, you detect a swarm. Mercy! Then things will start happening! I took off down towards the black raspberry patch, after my husband. His berry picking was quickly dropped when we brought him the news.

The bees were looking for an acceptable place to temporarily land. A staging spot from where they could scout for their new home. Those who have researched honeybees say that they communicate through dancing. When a bee has found a good place, she tells the other bees all about it by prancing in front of them excitingly. The other bees can tell how good of a place this bee thinks she has found by the intensity of her dance.

The bees must have found a spot that they liked ok because they began to congregate. When they get together they come to a tight little group, which the beekeepers call a cluster. This time the cluster was on the over hanging branch of the white pine which stands shading our apiary from the hot afternoon sun. As a cluster, they looked like a dark vortex hanging in the shape of an old fashioned ice cream cone. It looked as if the pine tree had grown a huge pinecone. By this time my husband had gotten his ladder and he asked me hold it as he shinnied up the arbor. He placed his swarm bucket, which he carried with him, as close as he could to the swarm of bees.

I was just hoping the whole time that the trellis was good and sturdy and that he would not come crashing through it. I was reassuring myself in a conversation in my head, thinking, “Yes he made the arbor for the Wisteria, after all, and Wisteria can pull down houses which I know he knows and so I am sure that he made it strong!”

In the next second, any concerns that I had for my spouse as he tight-roped across the Wisteria arbor were put on the back burner. Because in my ear was the unmistakable song of a frantic trapped bee. I had one caught in my hair! I could hear the little bee’s song rising in intensity and frustration as she became more and more imbedded within my curly brown hair. I imagined what it was going to feel like being stung in the brain. I told my husband of my predicament hoping that he might have some good suggestions, but all he said was, “I hate it when they do that, darn!” and, “they like fuzzy stuff.”

I abandoned my ladder holding occupation and went towards the house. I tried flipping my hair over and upside down hoping to shake the trapped insect out of my web of hair. I found our daughter and begged her to help me get this bee out of my hair! She kept saying, “Where Mom? Where?” as I pointed towards the spot where the bee seemed to be inching closer and closer, by the second, towards my scalp. Finally she spotted the bee and I swear she has been hanging around that beekeeping Father of hers too much, because while I had a bee about ready to sting my brain, she paused! She paused to wonder if she should kill the bee! The words that passed through her lips were, “Well Mom I hate to kill the poor little thing.”

HONEY, I exclaimed to her with my head of hair upside down bobbling in front of her. WILL YOU JUST KILL THE BEE! It is then that she sees my frantic state and she puts two books together and claps them on the section of my hair that is vibrating with buzz. “Well you are going to have bee parts all in your hair,” she tells me.

I am wondering if she thinks having bee parts in my hair is ANYTHING compared to having a mad bee in your hair. I could not wait to get to that part of my life where I might be worrying about bee parts in my hair! Oh and how wonderful if there were not an ice pack over a bee sting in the same picture with the bee parts. I sighed with relief when after another clang of the books the buzzing near my brain was stilled. I felt bad too, thinking if I had not been so scared maybe we could have helped the little bee weave out of the web that I had set for her. All I knew for sure was that I planned to know where a bee hat and veil were the next time I helped with a swarm!

With a grabbed blanket over my head I went out to check on Husband. He had completed his task and I held the ladder for him as he came down. Ah! We were both Ok. Actually he was radiant from having been a part of the bee convention. I think a touch of their vitality invigorates his soul. He excitedly told me that he had been able to shake the branch and had captured the queen in his bait hive. The joy in him brought a big smile to my face. Yes, Mr. Burgeaff, I thought as my husband told me of his adventure, you were right, I entered into a whole new world when my spouse became a bee keeper. I entered into a world full of risks, surprises, lessons and most of all, a world full of many wonders.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Splash of Color

2004-08-20T06:12:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

The Barrel Cactus Offers a Splash of Color!

Photography in the desert of Arizona brings many joys. One day while hiking in the desert around Tucson in August, I came across a Barrel Cactus that was filled with raging colors of red, yellow and orange.

Here are a few fascinating facts about the Desert Barrel Cactus:

The pleated shape of the Barrel Cactus allows it to expand when it rains and store water in its spongy tissue. It shrinks in size during dry times as it uses the stored water.

It is a myth that you can cut open a barrel cactus and water will pour out. While the plants do retain moisture, it is contained within a slimy alkaline pulp. Native Americans have used the juice as an emergency water source, but drinking this liquid can produce undesirable health effects such as diarrhea and joint pain.

Cactus bees pollinate the flowers. The fruit remains on the cactus until it is removed by animals and may remain on the plant for more than a year. Birds, squirrels, deer and javelina are the main consumers of the fruit.

Summary:

•Blooms from July through September. Flowers are shades of orange to yellow to reddish and are cup-shaped. Flowering is followed by yellow, barrel-shaped, scaly fruit.

•Fruits are eaten by deer and rodents. Bees are attracted to the plant's flowers. Cactus candy is made from plant's pulp.

•Found at elevations between 1,000 and 4,000'.

•Native Americans used its sharp, hooked spines as fishhooks. A good way to differentiate a barrel cactus from a young saguaro cactus, is to look at the spines; the saguaro's are straight not hooked.

•Grows faster on its shady side causing it to lean in a southerly direction, hence the name "compass cactus."

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, August 18, 2004

2004-08-18T06:36:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Peter & Gabriel, do you have a message for all today?

Yes, we do, Barb. This will be about acceptance. For it is growing more important to each one to be accepting of themselves and of others. For in acceptance is the essence of love. If you do not accept a part of yourself, you resist becoming whole and true to yourself. If you are denying that something exists within you, you deny part of yourself. If you turn away from another because you do not accept something about them, you are withholding love. You may turn from another when you feel like moving on, but please do not withhold love while so doing. For this hurts you more than the one you have turned from. Leave all to their own preferences and choices, honoring their choices and blessing them with love, before you move from them. For this is how peace is established. Acceptance of yourself and of others is how you find inner and outer peace.

We are obliging you in keeping this short Barb, we know you asked and we respect your time doing this for us so much. We ask all of you to remember this in the week ahead, that acceptance is a key to peace, and for true love on Earth. It is one of the steps to healing any pain, is to accept the cause of the pain, and the existence of the pain, and then the solution to freeing yourself from it all will come. Blessed are those who can truly accept each and every one they meet. Go in peace, our brothers and sisters. Be peace within you so you will see peace all around you. Amen.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Autumn on the Way

2004-08-15T07:52:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood
There is a great resistance in me to admitting that summer has passed her prime. But even through my own lips the word autumn often slips these days. For it is the autumn gold and red raspberries, which are bearing fruit now, beyond our pines. And it is the autumn peach, which softens on the tree. The sumac leaves alongside the country roads are turning red and the goldenrod is budding out. Six weeks till frost after the golden rod blooms is what my Grandma always says. The purple ironweed and the mauve colored joe pye are blooming beside the yellow tall coneflower in unmown fields. These are the blooms, which forecast autumn on these hills of mine.
I picked my last wild edible berry of the season last week in the blackberry brambles. A part of me was glad to not have to fight the nettle, the thorn and the thistle any longer but another part of me was sad. It seemed that I should perform some last rite, some ritual of departure. I wondered what part of me the brambles would most miss until I would be back next picking season. And I remembered that it was my hair that the bramble thorns were always grabbing and so I reached up to my head and plucked a single strand and ceremonially hung it upon a bramble cane. There brambles, I proclaimed, this one is free. And it was not even a grey hair that I willingly left blowing there upon the bramble cane but a bronzed brown one.

Although autumn is stepping in the harvest is still being collected. The bees have not disappointed us, they have been very busy and we are having a wonderful honey harvest. Hubby is filling up jars with this golden elixir and cutting the honeycomb into what I have renamed
Honey Cakes.
Indeed the threat of the end of summer intensifies my enthusiasm to get more jars of preserves sealed and upon the shelves. The apple tree down in the valley begs me to pluck her fruit and preserve it into applesauce with lots of cinnamon, which I am going to do today. The elderberries have turned the color of purple-black and I have been squeezing them and boiling them into purple-red jelly.
The tomatoes and peppers are ready to be made into salsa and that autumn peach longs to be made into jam. I have much to do for autumn is peeking in my window and I must put summer away.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Letters to a Friend – 10

2004-08-13T07:16:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

The Reunion

It was a warm afternoon when I met Luke. We agreed to meet at a lovely park where there would be few distractions. Since he enjoys walking as much as I do, it was the ideal location for our visit. And I brought along a picnic for our afternoon meal.

The park is large and a beautiful setting: There are tall cottonwood trees everywhere, and a small stream ambles through the eastern side – a gorgeous place to walk and talk. The day we met there were but a few other people in the park.

I think we were both a bit nervous with each other at first; then, again, it might only have been me. After all, I had written letters from my heart that covered subjects that were pretty new to Luke. And if he was still as committed to his Christian heritage, as I assumed he was, my letters probably didn’t settle too well with him. At least that was my assumption before we talked.

It was good to see Luke again. He always had a friendly way about him and his smile was as big as I remember it. We greeted each other in the way we used to when we were fellow Pentecostals, namely, we embraced with a firm hug. And as we walked we exchanged stories about our families, catching up on the typical things of home and work. Luke was surprised to learn that I had written not just one book, but two, and that I was working on two more.

I was pleased to find out that Luke was interested in my letters, yet I sensed a reservation in him to talk at any length about the subject of the origins of Christianity and the core message of Jesus. As it turned out, he was more interested in filling me in on a sermon that he was planning to preach in a few weeks time. This was understandable; Luke had not been preaching much in recent years, and this seemed like a golden opportunity for him to get his ministry started again.

It is hard to change; I know this too well from my own experiences. Luke has received some seeds that may bring a major shift in his awareness. Though I was interested in sharing my perspectives with Luke, in no way would I share beyond what I felt Luke was ready to receive.

In all, I was pleased that I had the experience of our reunion. When we parted, Luke did mention that he will probably be getting back with me about the letters I wrote. He expressed appreciation that I took the time to write to him, and he said that he would study the letters further.

We parted as friends, and as I stood by watching, Luke drove off, heading back to his home in another state. It didn't matter to me that he was on a business trip; he still drove at least 120 miles out of his way to come see me. I was feeling so impressed that he would drive such a long distance for our reunion.

Will Luke write to me as he said he would? Will he return to his home and resume his Christian ministry with new zeal? Will his sermons change in any way because of the letters I wrote? In what way is Luke changing?

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Forgotten Selves

2004-08-12T00:03:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

What if every single person you meet in your life you've met before in other lives? Imagine that for a moment. No one is a stranger. Everyone is a soul-mate acting out every conceivable sort of relationship.

It is like taking two actors and putting them on a stage then giving them a few hundred different plays to act out together. In one play, actor A is a father and actor B is a daughter. In another play, actor A is a soldier and actor B is also a soldier who happens to kill actor A. In another play, actors A and B fall in love and have seven kids. In another play, actors A and B never meet until right before they die. In yet another play, actor A is a wife who is beaten by her husband--who happens to be actor B. In another play, actor B is a wealthy entertainer who gets killed by a crazed bum on the street who happens to be actor A. In still another life actors A and B end up being a songwriting team, as well as gay lovers, who write several hit Broadway musicals. Then there's the life A and B lived together in the jungles of Sumatra. It was primitive times and A and B were hunting. A slipped on a steep ledge on the side of a mountain and breaks his leg. B is afraid to climb down and try to save A, and he leaves A to die.

As you can see, the possibilities are endless for plays for the two actors to play out together. We have soul-mates because monologues get boring. We want a play with more than one actor so that we can see and experience the drama of interaction. Our soul-mates are those fellow actors in the same acting company that we signed up for. We've contracted to create as many dramas as we can so we can experience interaction from as many different perspectives as possible so that a wholeness of experience can be achieved.

So if there is someone in our lives who appears to be an enemy, they may have been our lover in another play (life). And our lover may have been our slave master or murderer in another life. If someone trusts us completely they may have betrayed us in another life and those who betray us may very well have been betrayed by us before.

Actors are a tight bunch. When they're not on stage they have their own community and they are themselves within that community. But once on stage they assume the role they agreed to play. That role may be to fight another actor, or it may be a love scene with another actor, or whatever; but the good actor knows it's just a role and doesn't let the drama affect their relationship off stage. They know the difference between drama and just being themselves.

Can you see what would happen if the actors got the drama and their "real relationships" mixed up? One actor could really get upset with another actor who is playing their part, not remembering that it's just a part.

So after those original two actors take a break after say fifty plays and they get off-stage their "normal off-stage relationship" suddenly becomes clouded with all the drama from those fifty plays. Memories of betrayal and murder and victimhood and lust and companionship still linger and subtly influence their off-stage relationship.

After doing several hundred plays together, the two actors find it even more difficult to return to their normal off-stage selves. There have been so many roles that they've played that they meld with the off-stage self and a new self is created that is an amalgamation of the original off-stage self and all the many roles played. Eventually this amalgamation becomes what is considered the real self and the original real off-stage self is forgotten. Self-realization can be seen as seeing through the amalgamation and finding that forgotten self. Finding our own forgotten self allows us to see through the amalgamation of others and express love to their forgotten selves. Once we have remembered our original off-stage forgotten selves then we can see and better appreciate all those many plays we've done together and this opens up the potential for a whole new spectrum of plays to do.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, August 11, 2004

2004-08-11T06:27:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Peter & Gabriel, would you like to give a message for all now please?

Yes, we will be happy to do this. This is a time for all to consider what their own life is about. For when you address this now, you are doing more than mere reflection, you are also creating. Let yourselves be reminded of how frequently it is helpful to examine in what direction one’s life is heading. For this is a gift to oneself, to be observant and noticing, and changing, if needed, for the next choices pressing upon you. It is better to know where you are aiming for when you shoot the ball. Turning to your love for others, this is also a time for you to simply feel your connections to one and all. Know that as you be, think and dream, so you keep on becoming. The focus of your time and interest will bear fruit. Keeping your dreams in sight will allow you to further enhance those dreams. Listen well our beloveds, we shall speak to you now of true love. This is a blessing from the One God. It is the most powerful force in the universe, in the cosmos, life of light and love without beginning nor ending. Love is the fullness of every breath of life you take. For every breath you give, it is of love. Let God pour out the abundant blessings on you, over you, through you, beyond you. Know that every one you meet has the love of God. We mean this, it is true. Find this love in all you meet, and you will find yourself, your true self. We ask you to be kind, so kind, be gentle. To yourself and to others. This will reap so many rewards, for one and all. For all is one. The oneness of all of you will be coming quite clear, for many of you. Show to others what you want shown to you. You have been planting seeds and these sprout and blossom into their fullness, and this is true of you also. Bring truth to the table and you shall have integrity. Shine the light of you into the darkness you come upon, and it will frighten you no more. You have the light within you, dear ones. This is your strongest protection, if you feel you need such. Use your light! Cast away any shadows, by beaming truth and love. Whisk away the remnants of shadows that linger. Bring your being into alignment and balance, and feel stronger, more vibrant, more healthy and light. Circulation is important to your flow, the vital river. No blockages, just moving in a forward motion, is beneficial. When you feel yourself to be stuck on the shoals of life, remember too your strength and perseverance, see yourself through any rough waters. Know that you will overcome whatever you shall set your mind to. Learn how to command your mind, your body, your life. We shall be here for you should you need us, we are your allies in spirit. You each have many unseen helpers, your guides and angels, and loved ones on this side of your so-called veil. Know that the veils are becoming more gossamer and getting easier to peer through and know what is just beyond the usually observed reality. For we are able to interact, if you are aware of this, so come alive to all your support. We will help you, but we won’t do it for you. We will offer guidance and love and knowledge to you, if you will ask and get in touch with your inner self guiding you always. We are so pleased with the growth we see on the part of humanity. It is clear that many are awakening at a faster rate now. The true awakening is when you know yourself and that you are potential. You are a loving and greatly loved potential. We ask for blessings on all. Amen.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Angels Come By

2004-08-08T14:23:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

It's not always easy, loading the cab of the pickup truck with the tables, the awning, the chairs and the harvest. Then we set it all up at market only to turn around in a few hours and take it all back down and bring it home again. The folks who come by our stand are not always kind, and it is easy to dwell on the pricks to our hearts and settle there. And so there are times when we wonder if it is all worth it. Our hearts and bodies get tired, our spirits sore. That was the way we felt Saturday morning when we set out later then usual, due to last minute distractions, towards town.

When we got there a newcomer had taken the spot beside us and we were frustrated that the managers had not seen to it that we get the extra space that we had been asking for. But instead, they had let the newcomer have two spots which made us have to squeeze up into one. Although I am a lover of the outdoors I find myself dreaming of a market spot where we can leave our tables, displays and signs up permanently. A spot that doesn't change in size, and is not susceptible to storms, cold and severe heat. And so we were grumbly at seven in the morning as we squeezed into our spot and put our harvest and wares upon our tables. The tape player wouldn't work so we didn't have the music that I thought would cheer us and some of the tools that we use to set up seemed to be hiding.

And so we stumbled our way through the morning as the sun climbed into the sky. My heart went out to Hubby who was tired, overworked and wondering if we should continue setting up at market as he peeled his garlic and placed it in the baskets. Little One found one of the needed tools for me and I exclaimed with passion, " Thank God for Small Favors!" a gentleman walking by overheard me and laughed and gave me a friendly, " Amen!" and I was blessed by his understanding heart. It was not long after that when the tape player all on it's own decided to start playing and our soothing music surrounded us, drowning out somewhat the bustle of the nearby highway. The newcomer beside us was a likeable fellow and I found out that we didn't have to be squeezed up after all and that I had fretted for nothing as we ended up having plenty of space to our other side. We couldn't have ordered better weather for market day. There was no sign of rain and it was sunny without the bothersome winds which sometimes will blow over signs and displays. The day was the perfect temperature.

It ended up being a day of many profitable exchanges, not only in sales but in heart connections. After a slow start Hubby sold a good amount of honey. The highlight of my day was reached when this delightful lady who is a regular at the farm market came by our stand. She has white hair and a beautiful face, which always bears a smile. There is such a glow about her that my heart is always happy to see her. She carries a basket on her arm to put her farm market purchases in. I have noticed that often this basket is over flowing. She is a fan of my mothers slate paintings which she occasionally buys.

At one time she asked me if I also painted and I told her I was really into writing. She seemed excited to hear this and she told me that she writes, and as she left that day her advice to me was to keep a journal and to write down each day the good things that happen. I laughed with her as I asked, " Only the good?"

"Yes," she said as she went on, "It is the good that we want to remember."

And so Saturday when she came by our stand I was glad to see her again. This time she surprised me when she reached into her basket and drew a book from it saying that she had something for me. It was Advice to Writers by Jon Winokur. How blessed I felt that she was giving this to me. I kept that book next to me all day. I even took it to the cafe later when we ate lunch with some fellow marketers. And in one quiet moment as the others were at the buffet I opened up the book to steal a browse through it's pages. My eyes fell upon these words.

"Write from the soul, not from some notion about what you think the marketplace wants. The market is fickle; the soul is eternal." Jeffrey A. Carvor

What a beautiful message to me about writing. I think I have always written from my soul. What wonderful confirmation this is to keep on doing that. And said in such an uplifting way. The soul is eternal!

How fitting that in the whole big book I should open to a page and read words that I could use two ways. If I changed just one word I could make the message say, Market from the soul, not from some notion about what you think the marketplace wants. The market is fickle, the soul is eternal. Yes the farm market is fickle and yes sometimes we have tried to figure out what the market people want and have gone out of our way to supply this, only to have them want something else the next week. And so I am reminded to bring to the market what comes from my soul also.
Yes the market people and the weather can be fickle for sure. But I am glad that we have hung in there. You just never know when you will have a day of perfect weather, and you never know when angels will come by.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

After I wrote this piece I went to have a little read with my new book presented to me by this wonderful lady when I picked up a book mark that she had placed in it. On one side was the Serenity Prayer which has always been special to me and on the other side of the bookmark were these words by St. Francis de Sales,
" Make yourself familiar with the angels, and behold them frequently in spirit; for without being seen, they are present with you."

Letters to a Friend - 9

2004-08-06T06:27:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Dear Luke,

I am very excited as I look over the eight letters I have thus far written to you. I feel that I have covered a whole lot of territory and, yet, what I have written is barely an outline sketch of all the new things that can be written about the origins of Christianity.

Recently I have come across several books where the authors write along the same lines of the subjects in my letters to you. It is nice to see confirmation of the perspective I hold on the subject of the origins of Christianity. However, even had I not seen these books, I know that the inclination of my heart is leading me to write the letters that I have, Luke. I know that I am coming closer each day to realize the depth and magnificence of the human heart. It is so important to trust Self – don’t you agree, Luke?

Soon we will see each other and I assume you will have a ton of questions. Perhaps your questions will spur me on to continue my letters to you. I will definitely have fun tackling your questions! Fun? Yes, fun. What is so fun is that I know I don’t have all the answers worked out ahead of time. I don’t possess a written document in the form of a new dogma. And I certainly am not looking to create a new set of beliefs.

The fun part of my new life is that perspectives, understanding and beliefs can and do change. I no longer adhere to the belief that there is absolute truth. Here is something to ponder: The only absolute truth in the universe is that there is no such thing as absolute truth!

How does this apply to the subject of life and times of Jesus, and the core message of Jesus?

When we apply our imagination and play, I ask, what stories will we write and what stories will we tell?

If we are truly divine beings, if Christ truly is within us and if we are truly Christed-ones, then what sort of stories will we tell?

As I bring this phase of my letters to you to a close, Luke, I will use my imagination a bit here – and, I will tell you a story from the life and times of Jesus.

One day Mariam had something she wanted to talk over with Jesus, but she did not know where he was to be found. She inquired of their friends, but they couldn’t help her. So she asked John to accompany her to look for Jesus.

They walked to a few of the favorite places where they knew Jesus liked to be whenever he wanted to be alone. After looking in several of these places, they finally spotted him.

Mariam and John had seen Jesus act like this before, but never with quite the intensity they were seeing today.

It appeared that Jesus was experiencing something that the two of them did not yet see.

Jesus was standing at the shore of the Sea of Galilee looking across the water and laughing like crazy.

Mariam said, “Jesus, what in the world is so funny? Why are you laughing so hard?”

“I think you’ll have to shout louder than that, Mariam, if you expect him to hear you!” John told her.

John went over to Jesus and softly touched his shoulder…Jesus turned and saw John and Mariam with him. He had tears in his eyes and the biggest smile of joy you ever saw.

“What on earth is going on, Jesus? Why are you laughing so much?” Mariam asked again.

Jesus could hardly speak; he was still laughing. So he just waved to the sea and to the sky and to all the hills behind them. Mariam and John followed his waving arms and looked all around – yet, they didn’t see anything unusual.

Finally, Jesus found breath enough and said, “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? We are all part of this, and it is part of us. It is like a song, and together we are making music. Don’t you feel the vibrations; don’t you hear the sounds? It’s alive; all of it is alive…the sea, the hills, the rocks and stones and the clouds and sky – and us. We are One. And it is all joined together in Joy. Sometimes it catches away my breath, and all that I can do is laugh.”

When Jesus finished saying this, he smiled his usual big grin and looked at Mariam and John with deep love. Before long, the three of them were joined together and rolling with laughter. And Mariam was so distracted by the rapture of the moment that she forgot to talk to Jesus about the things she had on her heart to discuss with him.

Luke, this will be my last letter before our reunion.

So until we meet,

I send you my love,

Joseph

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Judging Ourselves

2004-08-05T00:01:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

We are all divine beings. We are Creators. We can create anything we desire. We do so through the use of feelings. When we utilize feelings, our creations come quickly. When we use emotions, we create more emotions, and what we desire remains beyond our reach. When we are in judgment/emotions, we create by default, magnetically attracting to us circuitry and events that fit our judgments/emotions. When we slip out of judgment/emotion, and live our lives in feeling, then everything we create will be an expression of love, joy, and beauty.

How many times a day do you judge your body? What judgments do you make when you look in the mirror? How do judge that gray hair? Those wrinkles? That beer belly, or those extra pounds? How many times a day do you make a disparaging remark about that bum knee? Or those painful feet? Or those incompetent fingers? How many times do you judge your body as incompetent? As unsexy? As fat? As tired? As sick? As anything less than god-like?

If we are creating by default through our emotions, then every judgment we make gets energized, and that means that every judgment we make about our body will be energized and will become part of our creation. And not just our judgments, but all the judgments others make on our bodies as well, whether that is friends judging your waistline or doctors judging us as cancerous. Every time we judge our bodies and every time we accept a judgment placed on our bodies, our bodies respond in kind, manifesting those judgments.

Of course we make a gazillion judgments a day, so our bodies are in a state of confusion as to which judgments to manifest, so the body creates an amalgam of all those judgments. The judgments made most get the most input into the creation. So if we make 100 judgments a day about how fat we are, and we make 0 judgments a day about how beautiful we are, then, in all likelihood we will manifest the reality of obesity in whatever way we perceive it. How many judgments a day do you make about how beautiful you are, or how healthy you are?

Of course, if you're judging how beautiful you are, you are still in judgment/emotion. When you can truly feel how beautiful and wondrous you are, it will become automatic, and that beauty and joy will shine. You don't have to worry about balancing judgments. Just drop the judgments, and feel. In this state of pure feeling, healing appears miraculous, but that is how it should be normally. A dis-eased organ can tell us a lot about where our judgments/emotions lie. It can be healed by removing those judgments/emotions, and letting in pure unconditional non-judgmental feelings.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, August 4, 2004

2004-08-04T08:26:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Peter & Gabriel, do you have a message to share with everyone today?

Yes, we are glad to do this. Today we shall speak of balance. This is going to be a key word to remember, for many are experiencing issues of challenge regarding balance. When one lives in a physical world, it is important to pay attention to physical triggers for change. It is quite necessary to sometimes be completely focused in your physical environment and in your physical form. Then there are other times when you may choose to be focused in your spiritual form, and the physical may seem secondary. It’s important to achieve balance in all things, moderation in anything is a key. Many who are seeking to spread light and love on earth are able to experience life as a spiritual being in a physical body. And they may also have a hard time relating to those who see no spiritual life at all and only the physical exists for them. Not one way is better or worse, right or wrong, than another. It’s all a matter of choice. If you wish to serve, it’s best to have experiences to share from, so you fully understand what others are facing. You could be understanding the greatest spiritual truths in the universe, but if you cannot understand the frustration of not understanding them, will you be able to relate to those suffering from misunderstanding influences on their lives? Knowing there are universal cosmic laws in place doesn’t mean you get to avoid experiences which deepen your understanding of these. It enhances you to experience being imbalanced. Do you realize that? If you always are talking about spiritual progress, what are you neglecting? Physical progress. The two go hand in hand. You cannot ever leave one completely behind, either physical or spiritual. You would be in denial of your real self if you denied that you exist on more than the earth plane right now. You cannot deny your physical self, any more either. It’s about bringing balance into this plane. And it’s about helping others to see where they are imbalanced, if you are prone to desiring to help others to shift with greater ease and grace. You are not leaving anything or anyone behind, you are merely choosing to change your focus of your attention. All exists. All your past choices will continue to exist, as a past choice. Whether your choices influence you still today, or in the future, depends solely on you. There is a way to move beyond the issues of the past and be fully present now, being aware of the choices in front of you to make now is most helpful in this regard. If you see yourself as being unbalanced, or leaning too heavily toward any one way, you have the right to change your choices, and to focus on something yet again. It does not negate what happened prior to the new choice. It merely shifts your focus and your energy in a new direction. Being able to love all of yourself is a key to being balanced. For when you are loving and accepting of all you have done, said, and chosen, you are able to be clear with the past and its influence on making you who you are today. For this day is the one that counts. You cannot go back and change what you did before, but you can certainly change your perception of yourself and others, and these will indeed have great influence on your life today.

Forgiveness is about moving on and not letting your energy and emotions continue to affect you from some pain. You will keep on choosing to experience pain and regret, hurt and shame, guilt and fear, until you realize these need have no effect on you whatsoever any more. Forgiveness is just as much for you as it is for anyone else. It starts you on a new cycle, one of acceptance and understanding. One of releasing and becoming unbound, unglued, unstuck. Forgiveness is freedom from the past, and having new choices for the future. It is about cleansing and changing and evolving beyond the stickiness of a situation, or a relationship, and allowing freedom to work its magic with you. When you are balanced, you are free from anything that kept you stuck. We ask for all to remember this the next time you are in a situation where you are holding onto pain. How long do you want to keep that pain with you? Will it get heavier as you carry it around? Will you get a break from it? Allow yourself to lighten your load, and get free, get clear, and be able to make new choices that are balanced, centered and whole, accepting yourself in every moment and knowing your choices can expand as you become free to expand your awareness. Be free, beloveds. Uplift yourselves. You are dearly loved.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Making A Difference

2004-08-03T22:48:00.000-06:00

by Lightdance

I cleared the double doors of the Clarion Hotel and lugged my two little shoulder bags over to the check-in desk. I had packed "light" for my four day training in San Francisco, but San Francisco is known for its mix of weather and it had been hard to judge what kind and how much attire would be appropriate for the changing temperatures, the after-hours hot tub and gym (yum!) and the training course itself. We would be meeting our new bosses, from the state on up to the federal level, and yet we had been told to dress "comfortably". Comfortable, for me, is a pair of sweats, a loose T-shirt and no shoes. None of that was in the bags I'd packed however, I'd opted for long gauzy skirts and some nicer jeans. How so little got so heavy, I had no idea. But after lugging them from airport to airport then shuttle to hotel, I was already sick of the whole question and wished I'd learn once and for all how to exist with the clothes on my back and nothing more! Life and traveling should not be so complicated! I find it absurd to travel with a compact version of one's home strapped to each shoulder, yet there I was, bending almost to breaking from what I thought at first had been frugal packing!

"I'd like to check in, please" I said. "I'm with the Americorps*VISTA group".

There was no doubt I had made my way to the right hotel. An enormous banner bearing the Americorps insignia hung in full splendor from the second floor balcony, facing the doors I had just come through, across a beautiful marble-floored lobby decorated with full size Palms and Bromeliads in huge pots. When I got the card-key to my room, I wondered if my roomie had beat me there or if first dibs on the bed and closet would be up to me.

"I don't care, God, just let her be someone easy to get along with" I thought to myself. It had been a difficult enough flight, the training promised to be intense, and I had no desire to deal with territorial stuff. As it turned out, I was the first in, but when my roomie showed, she was the happiest, easiest-going one there and I gave thanks. We soon became fast friends, and spent the next three evenings sharing our stories over cups of coffee at the local Pete's Cafe or the hotel hot-tub. For those living at poverty level, this was a real treat.

VISTA stands for Volunteers In Service To America. It was created in the mid-sixties by Lyndon Johnson in an effort, which is stressed by the VISTA trainers, "to not merely combat poverty, but to eliminate it altogether". No small feat! The "Vistas", as we are called, are expected to live at poverty level for their one to three year service, in order to fully understand and integrate with the communities they are striving to help. At the end of training, an oath is taken and we are sworn into service 24/7, also signing an agreement to not accept any other employment for the duration of that period. Upon completion, an Educational Award is given, and a living stipend that barely allows one to eek by from week to week. This is perhaps the most trying obstacle, and also one of the most thought provoking. It requires some serious reflection on the reasons each of us had signed-on.

The common thread for everyone there was the desire to make a permanent difference in the life of at least one human being. People from all walks of life and geographical areas of the US, even some foreign countries, many with at least one university degree, skills in languages, therapies and business, had joined forces to volunteer their efforts to building a better world. It was the kind of stuff I'd heard about in newspapers and political speeches, but it was the first time I had ever witnessed it first-hand. As the days passed and I learned of the qualities and program ideas of each of my colleagues, I found myself feeling for the very first time proud to be a part of something that was bigger than me.

Well into the second day, I realized there was one individual, with a hearing difficulty, that was somewhat reserved and at the margin of most of the group activities. He was obviously a native Eskimo, one of a special group that had come in from Alaska, and I was not sure if his aloofness was due to his hearing, his cultural differences, difficulty with english or just plain shyness. On the next break I decided to find out.

Our conversation was a bit limited at first. But once we started talking about his native village, he seemed to open right up. He had never been out of his area. I listened in awe to his stories of hunting, fishing and gathering food, his diet so unlike what we were eating there, life with no public access to this village of approximately 300 people except by boat or snowmobile (if you were lucky enough to own one!) and no stores whatsoever. Milk, I found out, could cost him $9 a gallon when he could get it, and people lived with the clothes they had. Period. Shopping was a very big deal! This man had come with what he had on, he said, and owned nothing more.

Truthfully, I thought that rather stange. After a bit more conversation and feeling more relaxed around each other, I asked him why he had no other clothes. I was not prepared for the answer I got.

"I lost everything I owned in the fire," he said.
"You had a fire where you live?" I asked, surprised.
"My house burnt down, and I lost everything I ever owned," he repeated, looking at me with noticeable sadness. He looked to be on the verge of tears. "And my wife", he stammered, then looked away.
"Your wife?" was all I could say.
"Yes, she burnt down with the house. Now it's just me".

I cannot begin to explain the feelings that this encounter provoked in me. I stood amazed that a person so obviously in mourning could muster the strength to carry on a commitment he had made before such a drastic life change, so badly in need of help himself, yet offering what little he had to his community. The project that qualified him as a Vista was to build a library for his village. He had conceived of the idea, submitted it to VISTA for approval, earned the grant money to build it, and became the Vista candidate for planning, designing and building, stocking and setting it up. Him. Alone. I hoped he would at least be able to get the townspeople to help in construction.

I learned that because of the drastic circumstances of his wilderness abode, he would not be able to receive housing assistance for at least a year. In the meantime he was at the mercy of willing townsfolk for a place to live. He was on food stamps since the fire, which did not allow for much in a place like that where just milk was double the most expensive supermarket in California, and even if he had had the money for them, there was no way for him to buy more clothes. I wondered what he would do in the cold of winter and if he had a coat. I learned from someone else that knew him that his hearing aide had also been lost in the fire, and that explained his hearing difficulty. I suffered to watch him struggle just to hear what was going on during the training.

On day three, I awoke with a cause. During our evening free hours a group of us had decided to organize our very first fund-raiser right then and there. One of the Vistas from San Jose had a fine arts degree. He was charged with making a card, which he did splendidly with a pencil drawing of a sun rising over a mountainous valley on a card-board seperator from our manual. The rest of us set to work on getting a donation from the hotel gift shop, which ended up being a nice T-shirt with a scene of San Francisco on each side, and networking with the other Vistas to see if anyone could spare any extra clothes or a buck. No way were we going to let one of our own fall into the crack right under our noses, especially one so spiritual and humble.

The results were spectacular. Bear in mind that the community supporting this fund-raiser was absolutely at poverty level themselves, and many of them gave their last dollar - meaning that they were traveling home with nothing in their pockets. Staff contributed nicely, and we limited the donation request to our own group of 28 members, since the other groups did not know him.

We took him discretely aside in the hotel gardens just after our swearing-in ceremony, and I was moved to tears.
"Here is a card that your roomie drew just for you," I said, handing him our card. "And this is a T-shirt from San Francisco so you will always remember where you met your friends who love you..." "And this," I added, handing him an envelope, "is a donation of $210 from your whole group here, for you to go out and buy clothes or a hearing aide or just have some fun in San Francisco before you leave tomorrow!"

I then asked him how he could be here doing this when his heart must be so heavy. His reply will be with me forever..

In broken english he said..."It is not about the clothes or the house. It is about the people, what the people need. Only the people count, only they are important. And they are helping me here..." with that he placed his hands across his heart. Bless him!

"Trust in life, then. Trust in happiness, and trust in abundance," I replied. "I am sure they will all be yours."

With that, he gave us each a hug and we all departed to our individual destinies, to begin the work of making a difference for at least one human being. I had already received a gift, the gift of a shining example, who was the walking epitome of service to others. There is no doubt in my mind he will make a difference to many more. And I am fortunate to restore my belief in authentic solidarity and altruism. What a difference that makes!

Copyright © 2004, by Lightdance. All Rights Reserved.

Mystery In Motion

2004-08-01T09:05:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

There will be a mystery. And the mystery will be, how to rise up from the mud that you were cast from. There will be others who will try to pull you back into this mud, they will tell you that it is where you belong, but your eyes will be on the sky, and you will know in your heart that it is where you are bound to go. They will tell you that the sky is a delusion, a trick, even a deceiver. They will tell you that the light that you see is the devil out to get you. They will think that you are lost when you are finding your way. The mystery will be how you will rise from such. You will reach for the sky and you will grasp it, and maybe just maybe there will be a day when they will also wipe the mud from their eyes and you will be able to reach them with your hands and help pull them up to the sky with you, those ones who told you that it was not possible to arise from the mud that you were cast from. At times it is very very tempting to just fall back down into the mud, after all it is soft, it is warm, it is comfortable, but in your heart you know that if you lay back down into the mud that you will simply die in your sleep there. And to the ones still within the mud you will become the mystery. You are the mystery in motion.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Letters to a Friend – 8

2004-07-30T06:28:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Dear Luke,

In this letter I propose to write about the source of our information for the life and times of Jesus, and the origins of Christianity.

What are the sources available to the searching heart looking for answers to deep questions about Jesus?

The common answer, of course, is the Church and the Bible. The other answers include the rich and full libraries of our universities, theological schools and seminaries. Next we would probably list famous professors and scholars; and – perhaps, we would make a list of well-known pastors, preachers, ministers, priests and rabbis.

There is another source of information that is not very often found in a list of places to look for information about the life and times of Jesus. What is this other source?

I have alluded to this other source in my last letter, namely, the human heart.

The human heart is the doorway to an incredible source of information. The person who accesses this doorway finds an enormous universe of knowledge.

Many years ago I read a book with the title, “Your God is Too Small.” I see the human as an incredible divine being and I’d love to see a book with the title, “Your Human is too Small!” We are not small, insignificant specs of dust in a meaningless cosmos. Humans are expressions of a much larger entity or essence. We are connected to this humongous essence; we are integral with it. All that our essence is – we are. Essence expresses through us and in us. Essence stretches beyond time and space and holds all experiences that ever were and ever will be. Humans have forgotten this wonderful connection to essence – yet, in our new era, many humans are beginning to remember. It is as though we are awaking from a long and deep sleep, and we are recalling our original magnificence.

What does all this have to do with the question about the source of information about the life and times of Jesus?

Believe it or not, Luke, many men and women are beginning to remember who they are and were at other times in human history. This act of remembering is much more than a belief in reincarnation. What I am writing about goes beyond reincarnation. In fact, in some ways I do not believe in reincarnation.

You are much more than you know, Luke, as I am too. The following is a pale comparison, Luke, but here goes anyway. Imagine that you are the tiniest piece of a very large iceberg. Your real self is the larger iceberg hidden beneath the water. If you were able to travel down the slopes of this iceberg, you would meet all the hundreds of other persons that you ever were or are. You have many more aspects or faces than the one you know presently as the person Luke.

Here is another analogy, and maybe this one will be more helpful to you in picturing what I am saying. Let’s imagine that the real you – your essence – is like a huge diamond. This diamond has many shinning faces. The Luke that you know in this life, in the year 2004, married with several children, a grandpa and soon to be retired…this Luke is only one aspect or face of the diamond. All your other faces are aspects of your essence, and all these aspects make up the larger essence or diamond.

When you are aware and connect to your essence, Luke, you come to meet and know many of your other faces.

In my perspective this is the source of information that most scholars and popular writers miss, reject and scoff at.

Have you ever imagined that you were living during the life and times of Jesus? I have a feeling that your answer is yes. I know that I have imagined this myself, Luke. In fact, one day not too long ago I saw my other face ‘back then’. No, it wasn’t someone famous to bolster my ego. I am a very ‘common person’ in that life-time.

I have met people who have told me of their life during the time of Jesus. Some of them are among the closest friends and companions in the life of Jesus. You would recognize each name if I were to reveal them. They do not brag to me about this connection, nor do they flash themselves and show strong egos. They are very humble persons that show a great deal of wisdom and love. Their stories, more than likely, will remain secret.

I am telling you these things today only to show you that there is a source of information about the life and times of Jesus that is ignored, unnoticed and untapped in the world of scholars and scientists. That source is accessed through your heart and feelings. You are much more than you realize.

Until I write again,

Love,

Joseph

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Living Orgasmically

2004-07-29T08:18:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

I am reminded of the famous restaurant orgasm scene in the movie, When Harry Met Sally. While Meg Ryan has a very loud fake orgasm in the middle of a crowded restaurant, Billy Crystal is flabberghasted, staring at her in amazement; and very aware of all the people in the restaurant who were staring at them. That whole scene is chock-full of metaphors for the condition of human relationships, but the cherry atop all the metaphors is when the lady sitting a few tables away says to her waitress, "I'll take what she's having."

That's what we all want; to live life in an orgasmic way; to be filled with love and joy and excitement, and not care what others think. We each want to express our selves this way. But we're afraid to. And because of our fear we put down others who do express that way, but it's only an expression of our fear. We all really want that. Living in an orgasmic way is what happens when we feel and express the entire spectrum of emotions and feelings all at the same time. But we only allow ourselves to express those emotions and feelings that we judge to be socially acceptable and personally acceptable. We repress certain feelings and emotions, and because of that we can't experience the full spectrum, thereby missing out on the orgasmic state, even though some of the other emotions are being expressed. The tormented, fragile, brooding, jealous, stormy, haunted, and obsessive emotions are all part of the spectrum. If we can express them without judging them and succumbing to those judgments, then we are a lot closer to living life in an orgasmic state of joy and love.

But it's hard not to judge them. It's been hammered into our heads from an early age that some emotions are good and some are bad. If we are judging them in any way, then we're not getting to the bottom of those emotions, and at the core of every emotion is love. So it's not our emotions that keep us from love (and enlightenment), but rather our judgments about those emotions.

God came into this dimension in order to know itself. To do this, God split itself into two so that it could look at itself and interact with itself. In order to know itself, God had to experience the entire spectrum of feelings involved in the interaction between the two parts of itself. The interaction and relationship between two people is God getting to know itself and trying to attain the knowledge of life lived in a state of orgasmic ecstasy.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, July 28, 2004

2004-07-28T08:42:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

We had this conversation last night:

P&G: Barb would you like to ask us some questions?

Barb: Yes, I think that would be good. I still haven’t thought this over, though, like before when we did this.

P&G: Oh that’s alright. Just ask away.

Barb: Okay. Well, one of my questions has to do with my feeling overwhelmed sometimes with what’s been revealed for past lives, and how they affect me today. Without saying which one, would you please reassure me that I am understanding truth of the ones I believe myself to have been, and that I am not imagining or being deluded in any way?

P&G: Ah yes. We have had this conversation many times, have we not? Even earlier tonight. So you want it in writing, then, do you? (They laugh.) My goodness you are a persistent one with your doubts. You are going to keep hanging yourself up with your own rope with that doubt business you know. And you have had very clear guidance from us, and from Jeshua too, true? We shall say with certainty, for we know this, that yes you are understanding the lives correctly that you doubt so much. Now will you please consider accepting this and moving onward from these doubts? It does no good to wonder about what you already know to be true, just because others have questions and doubts. Doubts are quite catchy if you are not careful, we know.

Barb: Hehe Yeah, you can say that again. I caught another case of them today as you all know. It just seems like the more positive I am, the more I am not willing to move on and embrace the next part of this understanding. Why do I fight it so?

P&G: There is a reason for that, and this is a process. You do not suddenly accept something that will deeply affect you, you take your time and feel through it all, trying on others perspectives with it and see how they are feeling about it. You are merely experimenting and making sure you fully understand your own self. It is getting to be an interesting quest with these other lives. And they are very aware of what you, Barb, are going through concerning them. Did you realize that?

Barb: Oh no. You mean I am affecting them somehow by my doubting my connection with them? What effect does my not accepting them have anyway?

P&G: Alright, for one thing you do know they are multidimensionally aware and are with the one you love so deeply and have as a guide now, Jeshua. They both are quite close to him, as Jeshua [Jesus] and as Thoth~Hermes. Do not worry about having a negative effect on them, Barb. But they are very much aware of your existence, and your feelings, and also your resistance to the work you planned on doing. In many ways you are not just any other face to them, even though your entity has many lives running on this plane. Just tune into them, and you will understand more than we can tell you of this.

Barb: Alright, I’ll try that again. Thank you. I’d like to ask you some more questions. Let’s talk about Og and the influence this long ago land has on our lives today. I was glad to see what White Feather shared about that and was quite surprised to see a connection to Ra-Ta and also Ax-Tell. What is my association with the one known as Ax-Tell?

P&G: Ah yes, Ax-Tell was definitely known to you. He was a most charismatic leader, and he led his people strongly. You had an association with him in the new land he came to live in, with his people. You worked closely together.

Barb: Okay, that’s enough. I’m not sure I want to get into this any more at the moment. Let me ask you if there’s anything about Og which affects us now?

P&G: What doesn’t affect you now, of your so-called past. All the now moments are all connected, and one cannot be separate from another one, place or time. It is merely a way of understanding and perceiving that makes it look like you could not be affected by another seemingly removed person, place or thing.

Barb: Alright. So there’s this thing with simultaneous time that I still am not sure I fully comprehend. Are we all in a storyline that somehow the ending is known? Is there destiny or free will, or is it both? And how do the Akashic Records contain the future anyway?

P&G: This is how we shall proceed to explain time, free will, destiny and the Record of All. Time is not linear although it may appear to be so from your perspective. Time is in cycles which are allotted to it, in a certain spatial dimension. We here are able to view and interact with any time you would know, even the future. However all is subject to free will and thus not set in stone. Neither is the past set in stone. All you have is each moment you are in. And what you believe to be the past. You will understand more of this when you are out of your body and are able to witness this in action. For you to understand would not truly be possible because it would not be you that is understanding when you step out of time. You are able to understand what you believe to be. And your beliefs do often hold you back from a more clear perception. Destiny is more like a blueprint your soul chose to follow before incarnating. It may be deviated from, through free will. The Akashic Records, as you refer to them, are not easily understood by those in the flesh. It is a record of all that is, and also all that may be. These are not all set in stone. They are interpreted. You could say that what you do in a week is recorded, but if you change your mind, it will not occur as foreseen. All is relevant to choice. It would be more correct to say it is a record of choices made and possible choices.

Barb: Well, I am thoroughly confused still, worse than I was before! Let’s just skip that and move on. Maybe I will understand sometime! Actually I think now is a good time to end my questions. Would you like to say anything about the week ahead, for all to know about what may be upcoming?

P&G: Yes, we are glad to share how we perceive of this. This is a time of great cleansing. Much releasing is being done. Choices are being made to leave people and situations that are no longer of your vibration. Many are resisting this parting of ways. And many are choosing to also part ways with their beliefs and explore new understandings, new paths, new choices are being made more and more. The vibrations of those rising are not as suited to those who are preferring to focus on the more physical aspects of life. You will see this happening on an ever increasing basis. For it is time to be aligning oneself with the true calling in life, the soul purpose is driving more to act in a different manner. You will notice change happening on a larger scale, at the global level. The Mother is being felt more strongly and since this is a shifting that also happens within, the divine feminine desires expression and desires each one to nurture their own self more now. Not to be selfish, this is not what it’s about. This is about honoring the divine wholeness that you all are. It is time to follow your hearts, and to go for your dreams. It is a time for change and balance and more harmony for oneself. Sing your heart songs, all of you. Your wondrous chorus is heard throughout all time and space, and is being celebrated by the realms of spirit. For you are moving to be your wholeness now. We sing right alongside of you. You are joyous for us to behold. You are loved dearly.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

No Passport Needed

2004-07-25T07:33:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

One time before I even knew what DNA was, I had a dream. There was a spaceship hovering in the sky. I wanted to go aboard, I wanted to so bad. A lady and I were looking through black bag after black garbage bag for a certain little piece of paper. I thought that all the files were loaded into these bags and we were trying to find my passport. I was looking for the passport that would let me board the space ship hovering in the sky. Then I heard a voice that filled the whole vacuum of air around me and the voice said, “The code is in your DNA.”

DNA? I didn’t know what it was; I had to look it up. That’s right I wasn’t paying attention in science class, I was daydreaming. I could remember that it was in science class that I had heard the word. I did a computer search; I found out that our DNA is our genetic code. DNA is the genetic "blueprints" of life. DNA is the part of a cell that contains and controls all of our genetic information. These genes are responsible for passing on traits from generation to generation. I read that scientists can decode the genetic markers found in our DNA to trace our ancestral roots back 10,000 years. Wow!

So my DNA is the code of my genetics. And the dream voice said that the code was in my DNA, the code to board the spaceship, how could this be? I had read that DNA was the code for what had already been written but how could it be written of what had yet to come about? But then I guess it does store information, as a babe in the mother’s womb doesn’t know that he will grow to be 6 foot tall but the code is in his DNA is already set. Wouldn’t that little babe be so happy when he is six and feeling short and wishing that he could reach those basketball hoops like the big boys, wouldn’t he be happy if a voice filled the void and told him that he was going to grow to be six feet tall, that the code was in his DNA. This makes me so happy too, to know that I will grow that tall.

The dream voice has not said so but I am suspecting that the spaceships are hovering now. We won’t waste time looking for our passports, the code is inside of us. Lets listen to it, feel how it vibrates, and allow it to sing. Lets get ready to fly, our space ship will recognize us and take us aboard. After all the code is in our DNA.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Entering Leo

2004-07-22T00:06:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

"I walked out of court a free man."

That's kind of how it felt. Of course, I was just leaving court after finishing jury duty; it's not like I had just been exonerated of any heinous crimes or anything. It sure felt good to be done with it. I was terribly afraid I would be stuck in a trial that promised to last around a week. But alas, after 8 long hours in the courtroom I was dismissed and told I didn't have to come back. Yippee!

That's a good thing because I have a hot date tomorrow. I feared having to cancel it because of the jury duty. Tomorrow is my 19th wedding anniversary and I have a lunch date planned with my matrimonial partner. That was the only time she had open in her busy schedule so if jury duty had continued into tomorrow I would have missed that opportunity. This is what magnified my feelings of freedom upon leaving the courthouse.

Something else that fueled my euphoria and relief was the fact that I was done sitting on the hardest wooden bench I've ever spent 8 hours sitting on in my life. Now that was pure torture! The benches were long and wooden and very much like church pews. After a day on that hard wooden bench my butt and legs were numb and my back was writhing in agony. Now that I've done my duty I certainly hope I'm not called again for a long time but when I am I now know to be sure to bring a pillow and a book.

While it felt great to walk out those courtroom doors, once outside I realized that it was just starting to rain. Since I live just a few blocks away from the courthouse I had walked there so I couldn't just head to my car to get out of the rain. I briskly walked home as the rain intensified and lightning and thunder filled the sky. The walk would have been exhilarating if it were not for my aching back. By the time I got home the rain was pouring and my back was screaming.

My honey was home working on notes for her rehearsal tonight. After greeting and hugging Shawnee (I'm rarely gone from her that long) I lay down on the floor and "fixed myself" while I talked with my honey. I think that bench really threw my back out because it took me almost half an hour to fix myself but it was wonderful conversation time. I felt wonderfully better when I got up to kiss my honey good-bye as she left for rehearsal. I was eager to get online as I hadn't even been on the computer all day. But first, there was the matter of dinner for myself and my beloved four-legged ones.

With the animal children fed and my dinner cooking on the stove, I headed for the computer to turn it on. But I never made it. I got detoured by the television. Normally, the TV has little power in grabbing my attention but suddenly tonight with the house being so quiet it sounded like a good idea to watch a tiny bit of TV while I ate dinner before I got on the computer. So I stopped and turned the TV on.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was 6 o'clock sharp. "Simpsons time," I thought. Maybe 15 minutes worth of The Simpsons was just what I needed. I don't think I've watched more than one episode of The Simpsons in months, so I turned it to Fox, ready for a little humor but to my dismay the Simpsons episode that was on turned out to be that very one and only same episode that I've seen in the last few months. And it was still too fresh in my mind so I didn't want to watch it.

With the remote in my hand, I was about to turn the TV off when suddenly my hand went spastic and, of its own volition, turned the channel. I didn't even see what channel number my hand was turning it to. On the television screen a beautiful scenic picture came on. It was one of those old Panavision shots that being adapted to a TV screen had the black space above and below the picture. The scene immediately grabbed my attention. It was a nature scene and, as I looked closer, I realized the setting was the savannahs of east Africa. A jolt of electricity coursed through my body. As the camera panned across mimosa trees, baobab trees, gazelles, and zebras, I suddenly said aloud, "Oh my God! Is that Born Free?"

I had my answer within just a few seconds as the scene progressed to show a land rover pulling into a camp. The driver's wife came rushing out to greet her husband and her husband then proceeded to show her the lion cubs in the back of the jeep. Yes, it was Born Free! Goodness, golly; how long had it been since I saw that movie? 35 years? 40 years? Once again; Oh my God!

Born Free, by Joy Adamson was one of my favorite books as a young boy. I had read it a few times already before I ever saw the movie, which was a huge hit back in the Sixties. I cannot begin to explain how much I loved that story when I was a kid. I wanted so very much to go to Africa and find my own lion soul-mate to be friends with. At that young age I so empathized with Joy's intense unconditional love for Elsa the lion (and Elsa's intense unconditional love for Joy). Having a lion as a pet seemed so right to me and, of course, as a kid I desperately wanted an animal companion but my mother would not allow animals anywhere near the house. I had an imaginary pet tiger for a while but the Joy Adamson books made me also want a pet lion. I certainly had no fear back then of big cats. The love Joy had for her lion was something I felt before--even though that didn't make any sense to me then since I had no pet. Since then, I've learned of the roots of those feelings of love that were so very inexplicably strong in me as a kid. I learned that I did in fact have a lion as a pet once in a different life.

Well, I ended up having my dinner while watching Born Free and I ended up watching the whole movie, in fact I simply could not take my eyes off of it. I was thoroughly engrossed in it and it was more than just a flash from the past. I watched it with the same rapt enthusiasm as I did when I was a kid watching it for the first time. It wasn't until the movie was over that I realized that there were no commercials--and that I hadn't gone to the bathroom in two hours. I was utterly engrossed in it.

Oh, and what an absolute joy it was watching that movie! And it was sad, too. My eyes actually watered up pretty good when Joy released Elsa back into the wild not knowing if she would ever see her again. All the emotions from 40 years ago were still there--and I'm not one who easily cries with a movie. No, there haven't been many movies at all that can make me tear, in fact I can't seem to think of any right now.

Oh, and what a joy it was seeing the landscape of Kenya. That is something that has always made me melt in warm soothing feelings. The landscape itself makes me want to cry. When I was a young one I devoured every book on Africa I could find, no matter the reading level. I had to know everything about Africa, especially Kenya and Ethiopia. And the wildlife was at the top of my interest list. My young 9 and 10 and 11 year old noggin was a walking catalog of East African species information. Even though they were filmed in Florida--or where ever--Tarzan movies were never missed by me. I watched every nature show I could that was filmed in Africa. I read the Dianne Fossey and Jane Goodall books and I read about Dr. Leakey's digs in Africa and I read about what Africa was like before Whitey showed up with his big guns and started wiping out the animals. I read about the mythical ancient African civilizations and I loved pretending to be a Gorilla sitting on the slopes of a volcano in the rainforest. I simply couldn't get enough of Africa.

But what really burned the deepest impression on that young me was the pure unconditional love expressed in that story. Now I can see the many layers of metaphors in the story but back then I only saw the love. Animals are here to show us unconditional love and it is so blatantly obvious to me that I can't understand how some people cannot see it. My parents and siblings couldn't see it and this confused me as a child. But I've since learned that many, many people cannot see it. A lot of people can see it but don't want to. Some can see it only under certain conditions.

I am extraordinarily lucky in that my dog shows it to me every single solitary day. She reminds me constantly how pure and joyous love can be. Of course, to truly love her unconditionally I must let her "live free," but, as with Joy Adamson, that is very difficult for me. In the movie, Joy finally was able to set Elsa free and then it turned out the love was so strong that she eventually came back. It's just like the greeting card butterfly metaphor. Of course, when Elsa and Joy were reunited Elsa then had three little cubs with her. (Oh dear, I better not draw too many parallels there.)

Anyway, watching the movie, one wants Joy and Elsa to be together forever. Luckily, the movie ends before either of them die but one knew at some level that the love would certainly last forever. Love is like that; especially unconditional love.

So after I finished dinner (I hardly remember eating it) I got horizontal on the floor again and Shawnee lay down in front of me, spooning me. We watched the movie together and let me say that Shawnee really took interest in all the lion noises. Of course, she fell asleep halfway through the movie. I've never known her to stay awake through an entire movie. It sure felt good to have her with me for this viewing. That was missing for that first viewing close to forty years ago.

Watching that movie was such a delight. It made me tingly all over. It may just be a silly old fashioned movie to some, but it was very special to me. I was done with the TV after the movie but I did see a host come on after the movie to announce that there would be other lion movies coming on next. Apparently, lions were the theme for the night. And why? Because we just entered the sun sign of Leo! I laughed when the host said that. Now that's something you wouldn't have heard on the TV 40 years ago. Wow, what a great way to enter Leo!

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, July 21, 2004

2004-07-21T07:44:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guides Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Beginning with last week’s article, I decided to share a personal conversation with Peter & Gabriel instead of the usual “message” format for everyone. I’m going to do this again. We had this conversation last night:

Peter & Gabriel, are you with me?

P&G: Yes, right here, Barb.

Okay, I would like to do the same thing as last week, and just ask you both some of my questions, okay?

P&G: Sure, we are enjoying this as much as you.

Barb: Great! Alright, this is gonna be free flowing, because I haven’t gotten myself organized and don’t know what to ask! Hehe

P&G: That’s fine by us.

Barb: Let’s see. I would like to start with asking about this new forum that Pat and I are creating just now, to do our readings in, and have discussions too. I am wondering about the format of my readings with you, and I’m sure you know what is best to offer, for everyone to benefit from. What would you both recommend I do, any ideas?

P&G: If you are aware of your intentions in regard to this forum, and what your dream for it is, do you need to ask for our guidance? What is best is what you feel Barb. Listen to your truth within, and know what will be best for all, as you are prepared to offer much from all of us together. Learn to free flow with what is given for each one, for all may be quite different. Seek not to limit in terms of interrupting the flow of spirit. A reading may simply be known as that, without defining it too broadly, you see? When you place the value on this, seek only to get the flow of energy moving, both from you, and to you, Barb. For this is an exchange of energy, you offer and you receive. This is a helpful step for you to make, because of what you desire to create in your life. In order to do the work you believe you are to do, it is necessary to begin somewhere. This will be a very big step for you, we know. You have many in spirit helping to guide you, and Pat is an excellent partner to create this with, for your gifts will complement each other. This is all for now.

Barb: Wow. Okay, that felt good. I’m glad to be going for it, and I appreciate your guidance, and love so much in all of this!

Barb: Let me ask you if Trendle’s message that came on the wind will have a big impact on me, or the other writers in the AWG?

P&G: Okay. You will be affected by this too. More so if you are getting prepared to share your writings in a book form, obviously! We suggest you work on that book you’ve been fine tuning in the concept stage. And the other book you just realized tonight was also waiting in the wings, so to speak, your “Conversations” book. It’s true these conversations have great appeal to others, in a wide opening for you and others in this group to share this way. A dialogue form of writing would be wonderful, don’t you agree?

Barb: Yes, I do. I like those ideas. I want to change the subject a lot now, and ask about these solar flares and pole shift info. Is there any effect right now on human beings?

P&G: That’s a very insightful question. We should say here that not everyone will experience the same effects. It’s a matter of your energy force field you have around you. Quite simply put, this time of shift is coming at you and within you, from all angles! That’s the easiest way to say it. For much you are shifting is not to be seen, only felt.

Barb: Okay, thank you. What’s up with so many people I know getting sick and injured?

P&G: It’s multi-layered. One reason is for the inner reflection and contemplation to take place, for the shift affects so many levels of your being, your environment. A resting period is great for rejuvenating oneself, in the midst of great change, inner, outer and all around.

Barb: Alright, I can go for that answer, it makes sense. Is there anything to this having to do with our ability to manifest things much faster, if we are focused negatively or anything like that?

P&G: That is always a possibility when one becomes ill, for the attention will bring to you knowledge of oneself, ones focus. Having an accident is not always an accident! We would rather speak to you of positive consequences, and positive intention to create, rather than creating by default. Creating through love, and not through your fear and resistance. Seek to love yourself in every way, every aspect of your being, every situation you’ve ever created, love it. You don’t have to like it all, but loving yourself is essential to creating a better world, a more joyful existence. Loving yourself is essential! This attitude of bringing yourself more and more moments of joy may fill you up with so much light and love that your abundance will just flow forth. The more you feel good about the self, the more you will feel better about allowing this flowing, this creation mode will come about naturally. Make sure you are putting feeling into your desires, put your whole heart into whatever it is you are seeking. It will come, for the truth of your own heart is to be in abundance, flowing. Get that flow going for yourself.

Barb: Well thank you for sharing all that. That seems easy, easy enough to keep trying anyway!

Barb: I am going to give you the floor, to speak about anything you wish now.

P&G: Alright. We would like to encourage you and everyone to remember your dreams! Hold your light of faith and hope on these so you know what you are looking forward to! Your dreams may come about when you are believing in them, and working to make them your reality. Do not lose hope in having better lives, with elements of discontent changed to elements of harmony, ease, and flowing with joy through life. Be thankful for what you have in life. For in appreciation and gratitude, is a key to being abundant. You must feel abundant, in order to be more abundant. Be well everyone. You are dearly loved.

Creator Bless! God Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Flower-Speak 101 - Buying In To Guilt

2004-07-20T17:20:00.000-06:00

by Lightdance

"Ok..just one more cup of coffee, and I'll get to work", I think to myself.

It doesn't matter that I have spent the whole weekend lazing around with my thoughts; that the laundry for the upcoming work-week (both mine and his) is still undone or that I have a lovely roast in the fridge waiting to be cooked for dinner. What is important to me is that I have a couple of days off and I so need to just vegetate! 48 hours to simply feel the life pouring through my veins and my heart, and to be alone, without commitment beyond what I choose to allow.

It was a struggle getting to this point of guiltlessness...a struggle within myself and against all the ingrained teachings of a perfectionist mother, along with a whole society's beliefs on the subject.

Lazy. That's the tag that is slung at the "less responsable" ones.

Each time it was applied to me I warred with myself over the guilt that penetrated my being and negated anything good I ever found about myself. If there wasn't anyone around to throw it in my face at the time of the 'crime', I automatically stepped into the role and reproached it by myself. Or both! I think I was the very worst of all! You can brush off another, but you can't brush off a guilty conscience, now can you? It goes wherever you go, sitting on your shoulders by day, and on your pillow by night.

So I spent years lost in denying myself the pleasure of NOT keeping up with my imposed/supposed 'responsabilities', or waddling in the depths of self-reproach whenever I didn't. Either way it took the fun out of life!

There is a fine line between being lazily undisciplined and knowing when you need to relax and allow other priorities to have their hay-day. The truth is that I constantly walk that line, as I tend, by nature, to be 'un-disciplined'. If there is such a thing! I call it "paying attention" to what I REALLY want to do vs. what I SHOULD do!

That doesn't mean I never choose to honor my responsabilities anymore. It means I choose the responsabilities I want to honor, and can do so knowing it is by choice, not imposed. I can impose a responsability on myself and often do, but not out of GUILT. When I start to feel that old sensation creeping in, and hear that devil's advocate voice saying "you really should do this or that, or else ..X.. will happen", my forehead starts to tingle and I put up the warning flags!

"Watch it! You are about to emotionally black-mail yourself! Don't do it!! Pleeeeaase???"

It took practice to get to where I started identifying the pattern before it was too late and the dynamic set in. It also took pints of Pine and Centaura, the floral essences that are used for understanding guilt; and for learning to say 'no' when requested-action becomes damaging to Self, respectively. I have just recently started re-taking the Pine, as events of late have led me to see a whole new facet of guilt-tripping that I did not understand the first time around. Actually, the negative state of Pine (guilt) is something everyone wanders into and out of throughout their whole life. Each time, they get a deeper understanding of just how profoundly guilt rules their actions and daily thoughts.

The "Spook" Phillip (an endearing term for a channelled 'entity') says: "...If you are not being yourself, you are in guilt."

That struck a chord. I had gotten by the kind of guilt I felt by saying "Thanks..but no, thanks", or the kind that happens when hubby comes home from work and the bed is still unmade while I am in the other room with a painting or typing away at some other project. But was I truly being myself? In words and action..100%...with everyone I knew? No way! So I set to observing myself, and the metering of words and actions in order to 'avoid conflict' that I partake of in almost every social situation I could think of, especially at work, and even with hubby.

In my own de-fense, I haven't layed around for two whole days scratching my belly, either. I've done lots of errands, and even some yard work, which took me to a nearby dept. store for some garden sheers. There, I walked straight and unsuspecting into a little trap I had set for myself, having to do with guilt feelings over money. This has been a big one for me, since there has been so little for so long and too many ways to split it up.

At the door of the shopping center there were Petunias for 47 cents each. 47 cents! Oh, my! I immediately grabbed four, thinking I could justify two measly dollars! I had so wanted flowers around me all spring and couldn't really afford them! I denied myself those purchases over the guilt of spending money on non-essentials...mainly the things I liked for just me! The alert went off when I looked into hubby's eyes and saw that he was smirking because I could never go in that place for just one thing...and come out with just one thing!! "Let him deal with it," I thought, and placed them in the cart.

My demise came at the check-stand as we were about to leave. There, on a center display, were the most gorgeous orchids I had seen in a long while! My favorites! The only one I had was a birthday gift from two years back - and since that time I had yearned for another. But they were just too expensive for our budget! So never a one was bought. These, it turned out, were almost $10 cheaper than at other stores where I had seen them, and my eyes sparkled!

Basically they were half-price, meaning I could get two for the price of one! And that is a good thing, since I am pure Libra through and through, and deciding on which one to get was sheer torture!

I turned to see hubby standying nearby, propped against a pile of boxes as he waited for me to make a decision. The look on his face made me realize that at times I am predictable and he knows me well. It also made me realize that I wanted to buy an orchid but was struggling with guilt and denial because of the price. For one brief moment I could see how ridiculous this must seem to others, but it was a real pattern, thus a real problem, for me. Something clicked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I decided to get an orchid that day. And not one, but two! As I started putting the Petunias back, hubby said "Just get them all, and let's go!"

"Nope, I don't like the Petunias," I said. "I just realized I was buying them as a cheap substitute for what I really wanted!"
And how many times have I done THAT!

I placed my beautiful orchids in the kitchen, where each time I gaze at them I am filled with pleasure and touched by their beauty. Each time I look at them I am reminded how I almost settled for Petunias out of guilt; cheating myself of the sheer joy and love of these flowers.
They are like a prize for having understood what I've been doing to myself all these years!
And certainly the best $20-bucks I have spent in a long while!

Copyright © 2004, by Lightdance. All Rights Reserved.

Hair in Brambles

2004-07-18T08:35:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

Dr Johnson: ”Give me the town, Sir. The Countryman may be king of this holdings, yet, I tell you, Sir, he is the slave of his own acres.”
Squire Windrum: “Yes, Sir. But where will you find such willing servitude, or such happy kingship?”*

As I sat out on the porch in the rain this evening I reached a spot of restful mind. It was then that the answer came to me to just let it go.

I have been tending my flowers, picking the finest of them and loving them into creations and then taking them to market. The jams and the jellies and the berries I am selling wonderfully but my flowers, well I have maybe two faithful customers who really appreciate them but beyond that most people expect flowers to just be cheap at the farm market.

I find myself feeling resentful about this at times. One day I had the most beautiful Gladiolas for a buck a stem, and Gladiola bulbs are not cheap. I had harvested them in the bud stage, so that they would continue opening on into the next week. One stem had the power to fill a whole room with beauty. One lady came along and asked me if I would take 50cents for them. I felt like telling her that I needed to buy toilet paper on the way home. I mean what is the deal! She can’t fish out a buck to pay for my glads when she is driving a sparky van, get out of here! It is times like these that I just have to leave our booth for a while and go visiting with the other venders. I’m not going to hore my flowers anymore, I tell my friends. Hah! Can’t you see me sulking, the wounded flower artist adrift at the farm market.

Hubby takes people better then I do sometimes, just letting it slide off himself. I have got to get better at that. So spirit got to my heart and said, “Let the flowers go, their time will come, follow your passion, there are lessons still to be learned from the bramble patches. “So simple, why can’t I have just seen that instead of getting all stressed out and mad at people?

The other day as I was entering a bramble patch down the road at a friends, passing by on the road was a jogger, we waved, then he stopped and said “Trendle!” as if he knew me. I had not recognized him in bandana, sunglasses and tennis shoes but it was a fellow I know who has bought my flowers in the past. We talked for a bit and he couldn’t wait to tell me that he needed a bouquet. He pays me well, always slips in more then I ask, and he appreciates them so. As he jogged on I asked him if he preferred Sunflowers or Gladiolas and he hollered back, “Your choice, You are the artist.” and so the wounded flower artists heart was tended to. And she knew that she had been given a gift, when this John fellow jogged by when she was entering a berry patch.

I had to laugh out loud the other day when I was out in those brambles. I was thinking of last spring, and the day that I drove into town and took a part time job. I didn’t except the first place I walked into to hire me! I was just trying out applying to see how that felt! But bam, they took me up on it!

I cried for a week, I didn’t want to go. But I felt like I had to help out more, Hubby was going through a transition, I needed to contribute. He does so much. And so I went. It was a great place but I felt so confined. Applying myself to somebody else’s schedule. They even wanted me to control my hair, pull it back tight, to keep it’s fuzziness taunt. It was a perfectly nice place; I just felt in my heart that it was not really where I was suppose to be. So after one day on the job I called in and signed out.

I didn’t call my supervisor back when she phoned and wanted to discuss what ever the problem might have been and saying maybe we could work something out. I just didn’t think she would understand. Oh, I guess I could have gotten my way and since they had seen what a good worker I was, hah, maybe we could have made a deal that I did not have to wear my hair back tight. But it wasn’t just about my hair was it? I felt so foolish thinking it was about my hair, it was about something else but I didn’t know how to talk about it.

So I ran away from the job and ended up out in the bramble patch. It really wasn’t planned that bramble stalking was going to become my focus of the season. We took our goods to market, the tinctures, the produce, the honey, The pollen, the flowers and the berries. It turned out that the berries are the most sought after produce. We cannot bring enough berries and jams.

And so I found myself more and more often in the brambles. And while I am out there I think of what a lucky person I am. Some would not like to travel through nettle and thistles to get to the wild berry patch, but I find the nettle charming compared to the presence of tires on a street. Besides I know how to recognize their stingers and don’t let them get me. And the view of the sky and the clouds, the butterflies and the bees is superb. And some would not like the danger of snakes, the bite of the mosquito and the chance of getting ticks. But to me it seems these creatures are easier to understand then my own human kind, which fill the town. While I am in the blackberry thicket I wonder why picking wild berries is such a challenge. Why do they have so many thorns that grab at me? What are the thorns protecting them from? What are my thorns protecting me from? Do the bramble branches really need these thorns? Do the thorns make the berries sweeter? I do think the wild berry has something that the berries from our domestic thornless canes do not have.

Nettle and Beetles in the Berry Patch
Check out the white hairy stingers on the nettle.

I can handle the thorns pretty well, I just pull back the right way to get loose or they do get me and I just cuss a little, after all there is no one out there to hear me. Mostly I think it is just that the thrill of the ripe berry overwhelms my fear of the elements. When my mind is on the dangling ripe berry my body becomes of secondary importance. Oftentimes there will be the most perfectly tempting berry just hanging a little over my head and I just have to reach it but as I do, a blackberry thorn grabs me by the hair. Then the decision is to drop all and detangle my hair or to just pull forward after the almost in grasp berry, and let the bramble pull. And so I let the bramble pull.

She takes out a tuft here and a tuft there so that soon my hair is a mixed array, some of it still up in my bun and other pieces drawn out and falling, straying all around, a little like new berry cane shoots do. I had one of those live green berry runners reach out and wrap around me one day while I was picking berries. It had the thought to grow up me, as it swirled around my waist!

The brambles take freely; soon strips of my hair hang like shadows floating in the wind upon the berry brambles behind me. I wonder how many bird nests will be cushioned next spring with that hair of mine that I left a- dangling in the berry patch in pursuit of the wild blackberry?

When I come out of the berry patch I am sure that my hair must look like a birds nest itself. And I am certain that the next time I go to my twice a year hairdresser she will ask me if I have had my hair thinned. And so the brambles they want me to be wild and free, they have their way with me and my hairdo is opposite of the way that it would have been if I had kept that job in town. That is what made me laugh out loud that day in the berry patch.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
*from Growing and Using Herbs Successfully by Betty E.M. Ja

Letters to a Friend - 7

2004-07-16T06:44:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Dear Luke,

It should be now evident in the letters I have written to you that I have found a new world outside the walls of Christianity and I like what I am seeing.

Twenty years ago - when I walked out the doors of the Pentecostal Church for the last time - I had no idea that my further steps would actually carry me beyond Christianity and organized religion altogether. I thought I would always be a ‘church-guy’ in one form or another.

I have found that there is a greater story to be discovered behind the smokescreen of organized Christendom.

At the core of this greater story is the central message of original message of Jesus and the early Gnostics. It is a message that points to the grandeur of the human and the important role of the heart as the key to leading the human to truth.

The greatest story ever told is not about human sin and the fall, of a blood sacrifice and salvation, of a hierarchical order of priests and restrictive religious dogma. This is an old story of a gory god. It is time for humans to put aside that gory god!

The greatest story ever told is about the beauty and grandeur of the human and his/her divinity.

The message that is going out and helping people to wake up to their original divinity is not coming from churches, organized religion and preachers; the message is coming from the heart of common people.

The way that I see it the human being is really a vast storehouse of memories and ‘knowings’ and the heart is the place of entrance to this ‘memory bank’.

Men and women everywhere are tapping into this storehouse of information and are helping others to see that they too are able to do the same. The answers to the questions we are asking are found “within” where Christ dwells.

Luke, the best analogy I can give to help you see what I am writing about is found in the Jesus story where he is talking to his disciples about the ‘Comforter’. Jesus tells them that he must go away (die) so that the Comforter will come. Jesus goes on to say that when the Comforter is come he will guide and lead you to all truth; the Comforter will also bring back to your remembrance all things that Jesus ever taught or said.

When I was in the church with you, Luke, we taught and understood this story of the Comforter to mean the experience of the Holy Ghost and how the Spirit of God leads and guides the believer to understand the scriptures *correctly*.

From our study of Church History we know that this story has been twisted by the church in her effort to give authority to official church dogma.

On a personal level, I also recall how individual preachers used this story as a club (so to speak) to line up rebellious members of the church. Their propaganda went something like this: “If you truly have the Comforter in your heart, then you will agree with my words and put away your rebellious heart.”

The real meaning behind this story of Jesus and the Comforter is very simple: The human is encouraged to trust the feelings and promptings of her/his heart! And the guiding principle of this is the famous four-letter word, namely, love – pure and unconditional love.

When you see the importance of the human heart, it is then easy to see that the movement and organization of the Roman Church was not the continuation of the core message of Jesus and the early Gnostics. What do you see as the most evident feature of the Roman Church and all her children (namely, Protestants)? Is it not suspicion, judgment, division and separation? This is true, if you have eyes to see and ears to hear.

It is my feeling that each human carries the mysteries of the universe – past, present and future, within his/her inner-most being. We are like vast encyclopedias within a great library. We have only just begun to explore this fantastic library. And do you know what the library card is that will give access to the library? Yes, you are right – it is the human heart.

Individuals are tapping into this library and are bringing forth amazing information. For me, the key bit of information is that which I have already shared with you, namely, that each human is a divine being, and that our life on this planet earth is an expression of our divinity.

If you could, would you want to know more and see more clearly the original story of Jesus? Then imagine this, if you will Luke. Instead of reading a book (even the Bible), go inside your own heart and take a trip of a lifetime! Go back *in time* and see for yourself what was really happening *back then*. This is possible, Luke; it really is. And when you are operating from the foundation of unconditional love, you will not return from such a trip within your own heart and demand that others see exactly what you saw and experienced. Instead, you will encourage others to do the same, that is, go inside their own heart and go see for themselves.

Each person has a story to tell when they go inside their heart. And when we live with unconditional love, our heart will be open to listen to another person’s story - just as their heart will want to hear our story.

Until I write again,

Love,

Joseph

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

The Joys of Death

2004-07-15T08:17:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

We live in a dimension of duality. Everything has its opposite. You cannot have death without birth, and you cannot have birth without death. When we die to our physical bodies we are born into spirit, and when we're born into bodies we are experiencing a death from the spiritual. It's a matter of perspective, but you can't have one without the other.

Birth is generally considered a joyful event. Since every death is also a birth there should be some joy in death, too, no? And since every birth is also a death, births can be painful and fearful, too. Birth can actually be more of a traumatic event than death. Imagine dying to your life in the spiritual then entering a helpless little body and shooting out of the birth canal. And then you're stuck in that little helpless body and all your memory is gone.

Dying in the spiritual dimensions is similar to dying in the physical. First, you lose your body then you go through some kind of tunnel-like thing, and then voila! you're in a different dimension. Death and birth are the same thing! They are the very same thing!

Death and birth are two sides of the very same coin. This polarity is ubiquitous in our reality. Birth/death is going on all the time. The person we were five minutes ago is already dead. They no longer exist! Every single minute of every day we are dying and being born. We birth a new self with each passing minute. All we have to do is look to nature to see the endless birth/death cycles. We cannot birth something unless we die to something. Death is important.

It is the human tendency, however, to think of the phsyical deaths of our bodies when we think about death. This brings up fear, so we start trying to mentally block out death. We no longer see the importance of and beauty of death in its integral part of ongoing life. When we shift our focus away from death, we no longer give it the energy it needs and what happens is we stop birthing as much. Any diminishment in our level of dying leads to a diminishment of birthing. For instance, in order to birth new ideas, we must let some old ideas die.

Birth/death, birth/death, birth/death. They go together. If you try to do without one, then eventually you start doing without the other.

So let's change the focus and talk about the joys of death excluding death of the physical body. Let's talk about the joys of death that happen on a daily basis; the little deaths that happen continually. How many times do you die on a daily basis?

What about anger? Say you hold a lot of anger for a particular person. Can you die to that anger? Would that be a good thing? What birth would occur simultaneous with that death?

What about the death of communism? Was that a good death? And what was birthed in conjunction with that death?

What about beliefs? What if you've been holding the very same beliefs all your life? Does that prevent the birth of new beliefs and ideas? What happens when you die to a belief?

What about boyfriends and girlfriends? Remember when the relationship was being birthed and how exciting it was? But then you fell into a deep rut where nothing was being birthed anymore, so it seems the only way out is to kill the relationship? How could a more joyful approach to death have saved the relationship? Did the relationship go sour because the two of you stopped dying on a regular basis, thus creating a need for a big death finale for the relationship? Is it the birth of something new that spurs us to die to relationships?

What about jobs? Been working at the same job for 32 years and you're ready to kill yourself? I would say kill the job instead. Either way, there's a need for death because there is a need for birth. A new job is easier to get than a new body. So dying to a career can be a positive thing, no?

Can dying to a bad habit bring joy and birth? To get a new attitude about something, do we need to first die to our old attitude? Have a brilliant idea that could make millions? But you won't die to your beliefs of lack, so the idea never gets birthed? Still holding on to a traumatic event from your childhood? If you won't let it die, the knowledge and wisdom to be gained from the situation can never be birthed, or realized.

Anytime we hold on to something, we are preventing death, and we miss out on the subsequent birth. And then we end up holding on to something that is dead anyway because it ends up in the past. To stay in the NOW, we are going with the natural birth/death cycle and we experience constant birth, constant death, constant motion, and vibrant life. To be in a state of joy we must be in the NOW. We can't be in the NOW if we haven't died to everything in either the past or future. So the very act of being in the NOW is utterly dependent upon death.

Death is present in every layer of our physical existence. How can we replace fear of death with joy of death? If we can do that in our everyday lives how would that change how we finally experience death of the body? And if we fully utilize death during life would that make death of the body unnecessary? Is the death of the body a result of not fully utilizing death on a constant basis during life?

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, July 14, 2004

2004-07-14T08:28:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guide Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Peter & Gabriel, I’d like to try something different with you for this week’s message. As we’ve talked about before, I’d like to have this be a question and answer session instead of a message, okay?

P&G: Yes, Barb, we are pleased with this new way you want to approach us, having this be shared with everyone. What shall you like to ask us this evening?

Barb: Well, I want to ask some questions that have been on my mind. Hopefully they will be of interest to others, but my intent is to just have my questions to you guys be shared with them. So, I’ll begin.

Barb: By the way, I haven’t decided what to ask you yet!

P&G: Yes, we are aware of this. It should be very fun and interesting to free flow.

Barb: Alright, let me see. I am curious about all the 777 signs I saw this morning. What was that all about?

P&G: That was a great way to start your day! (they chuckle)

Barb: Okay, well that was cool!

Barb: Next question. I’ve been getting a lot of messages from various friends and their spirit guides about my connection to you both, and how to be changing my perception of our relationship. Would you care to enlighten me further as to my interacting with you in the channeled writings?

P&G: Very well. We shall tell you this. There are times when it serves you to perceive of us as separate from you, on a level more aware and more spiritual than yourself. You may choose to set us up on a pedestal sometimes Barb. However, it’s closer to the truth to say that we are all one aspect of God, experiencing different realities. So this then makes us no better and no worse than you, any of you. We are all merely experiencing at the level we choose to, always. Even you. So if you are choosing to embrace us within you Barb, you are more aware of feeling our oneness. If you choose to perceive of us with your rational and logical mind, your intellect, you will have a different understanding and your connection will also be seeming different to you. We hope this helps. Does this answer your question?

Barb: Yes, I think so. It helps. I have been trying to understand this, how this works, my channeling of you both, and I feel it’s a bit shocking to hear what some have relayed for messages to me, that we are one. And I know some friends have similar experiences going on with them, in changing how they relate and work with their essences and spirit guides. So this leads me to another question then. If we are all truly one in God’s heart, as you’ve said, then we may feel our oneness with any other soul either alive on Earth in physical form or in spirit, right?

P&G: Yes! This is it, Barb. This is what oneness is all about. You are many, and yet you are one. It’s a paradox.

Barb: Ok! On to the next question. I am curious about the effect of the Venus Transit, on my life and in my friends’ lives around me. It seems to have stirred up a lot of muck to deal with, regarding communications. Will this be getting better soon? I feel a little better already, but it took some effort! What’s going on since the Venus Transit?

P&G: Well, Barb, there are a number of ways to look at this. From the physical standpoint, you have experienced a lot of frustration in regard to communicating with your friends and loved ones in your life. You have experienced what it’s like to be cut off from communicating, to reach out and do something about it, and also what it’s like to just let go. The gamut of everything has been experienced wouldn’t you say? (Yes!). It’s all about resolving old issues which you have a need of clearing out and moving forward with your energy. It’s freeing up your energy which you’ve put into keeping some relationships going which need not be kept going, and also in not being effectively communicating in other relationships, which would benefit from a more full communication. You see?

Barb: Yes, yes I do.

P&G: Also there is the level where you react emotionally to these instances of miscommunications, and also lack of communications. You have been attempting to relieve your pain and distress in new and unfamiliar ways to you, for these situations have been rather unique. So you are processing things in an emotionally intense way since they are unfamiliar to your experience. As you gain experience with certain aspects of your life, it becomes far easier to deal with similar things in the future. And for the spiritual level, we know you are most interested in this. The Venus Transit was a way for humanity to open a new door, a new window of experience has opened up. As you are ready to, you may step through into this new experience, this new way of perceiving and relating to one another. For it is about relating. Do you see that relating is similar to relations, to family. We ask you to look at this, this word relating. It speaks of telling a story, it speaks of connecting with another, it speaks of an understanding of what is presented, it speaks of family. You are getting to know yourselves better as family, in spirit. The Venus Transit has helped many of you to shift your understanding of how to relate to yourself, to your guides in spirit, to your family, friends, associates, and even those you dislike. For relating is essential to effective communications, no matter the discussion. It’s important and quite helpful to be changing the way you relate now.

Barb: Wow. That is something I’ll have to let soak in some more. Let me ask you guys something else. When some people talk about past lives, I get the impression they do not find it helpful and possibly even outrageous, being kind of judgmental about this. Sometimes I worry about having shared too much of mine. Because I have had some fairly interesting lives, and I was excited about sharing with my close group of friends. Some day I wonder if my sharing about having been the Apostle Thomas will be helpful in any way. What can you tell me regarding that life and how I’ve made it public.

P&G: Oh Barb, we know you’ve had some pain over this. What we want you to know is that you acted in accordance with your heart and soul on that one. It was done in the spirit of being open and trusting what was coming, even though you were extremely uncertain and doubtful of it. You found it quite easy to dismiss that life as being your imagination for a long time, we know. As you have learned there are reasons for things being revealed in a certain timing, an order to your spiritual progress, if you will see it that way. That past life revelation came about in the way it did so you would not later doubt it. You have been made aware of certain others in your life who also had lives in that timeframe. Your revealing who you thought yourself to have been, Thomas, paved the way for people to come into your life. It created an opening for you to share from a more clear heart connection Barb. Even when you knew you had strong reasons to doubt it, it helped open you to other possibilities. It was a very good and helpful thing, from our vantage point. And it’s far from done with, your path will intertwine with Thomas’s, if you are open to this. Does this help to answer your question?

Barb: Yes, thank you. I sure wish it was all clear to me now though.

P&G: Yes, we know. It’s difficult to be patient and trust in timing of further revelations.

Barb: Yes. So let’s see what else has been on my mind, that I’ve wanted to ask you guys. Oh, about so many people getting sick and injured! Is this part of anything larger than just individual lives?

P&G: This is an interesting question. Part of it is very individual, and has nothing to do with another soul. And there is an element of connection with many having this predisposition to illness and accidents and feelings of malaise lately. This is a way of downloading changes in the understanding of self, in part. For a time of resting a sore body is a time for inner reflecting and quietness. It’s changing the surroundings. So, yes, there is a common experience happening, although it manifests quite differently, per the individual choice.

Barb: OK. Next question. I guess this will be my last one, because this is getting long! I’ve been reading about the magnetic pole shift and earth changes prophecies. Can you tell us anything about what may be in store in the near future for us on Earth in the way of earth changes?

P&G: Phew, that’s a big last one to finish with Barb. This is very hard to say, as always, because of the ability of mankind to make changes by using their free will. Let’s say everything stays on track like it is now, with the most likely probable future occurring. We would have to say that the area of Yellowstone continues to be a hot spot, and would expect major seismic activity as a result of an eruption there. This is being adjusted every day by groups actively praying for a balanced energy shift to occur. Prayers and intent will help in this, and the more positive focus of minds put on this, rather than negative concern and worry and fear, the better it will be. A drought may leave many crops unharvested. And flooding and fire will continue to occur.

Barb: Okay, well I appreciate this! Maybe we should finish up with a happier question, eh?

P&G: As you wish!

Barb: Alright, so would you like to reveal anything to all of us for the next week to be especially aware of?

P&G: Oh, so we can free flow with a message now. (They said this humorously.) Well for one thing, taking time to smell the flowers is very important for all to be doing. We do mean literally and figuratively. Take time to feel your connection to flowers, to nature. For this will help to balance these strong energies coming in now. And appreciating beautiful things in your life, is always a wonderful idea. Smell the delightful smells as deeply as you can. This may be in nature or in your home, use the sense of smell to heighten your mood, elevate yourself when you feel down, tired, or ill. Find something good to smell, it will help. And simply appreciating the small things that are beautiful to you, and the large things too! We ask you all to celebrate life this next week in as many different ways as possible. Lift yourselves up with joy. Feel the joy of connecting with others, be they animals, plants, people, crystals, or stones. You will be amazed at what is possible when you lose yourself in the connection of one to another, in harmony and unity. You are all dearly loved.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Nasturtiums Bring Happiness

2004-07-11T12:42:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

My sense of duty told me that I should be making up some more berry jam or jelly. It sells real well at market and has been my main avenue of earning my keep the last few weeks. But instead I was drawn to the nasturtiums that are blooming so beautifully in my annual flower garden.

Annuals have their own unique magical quality. Unlike perennials they do not set a limited amount of buds a year. With annuals the more you harvest, the more they bloom. They will give and give and give the more you take. So it is almost a shame not to collect them when they are ready. If they go to seed then they are done, they feel that they have finished their job and they go on vacation.

As I stood with the cheerful faces of the nasturtiums around my ankles I was enveloped by their charming spicy sweet scent. I don’t think anyone could stand among the nasturtiums and not admit that these flowers are very happy. This flower so knows happiness that it spills over in cheerfulness with bright blooming faces of orange, yellow, red and all shades of those colors mixed together in swirling blends. Have you ever eaten this edible beauty in a salad?

Although I knew that it probably wouldn’t sell as well as fruit I decided that I was going to cook these lovely edible flowers up into a jelly. I gathered the fresh blossoms and buds into my apron skirt as I wondered what color a jell of them would come out to be. Back at the kitchen I started a pot of water to boil while I washed through the blossoms.

I placed all of the blossoms into a large kettle and poured the boiling water over them and then covered them with a lid and let them steep for a good ten minutes. When I took the lid off the water it looked dark amber in color. I strained the flowers through
cheesecloth, keeping the juice, which I returned to the kettle on the stove. As I added sugar and pectin I watched as the liquid turned into a beautiful bronze red.

Ah! It is such a beautiful color! No artificial dyes needed. How glowing it looks in the jars when light shines through the glass. It will be nice to keep a jar of this to pull out on a snowy day in January, to hold it up to the light and remember July’s rich colors as I spread it’s spicy sweet flavor over a piece of toast.

Like I allready said I didn’t think that it would sell at market but it did pretty well. There were a few ladies that really got into my flower jelly and bought some for gifts to herb loving friends. And the conversations that the nasturtium jellies lead us into! Two sweet pea lovers met at our stand as they were buying the jelly, they were so happy to find another who loved sweet peas as intensely as they. And I learned a few sweet pea tricks as I was listening in!

Hubby was stripping his cured garlic of its outer leaves, which he had not gotten to do until we were set up. His working with the produce seemed to draw people in. We got to talking together later that it is rare these days for people to even see food in the hands of the farmer. When the food passes through the hands of the farmer and not the hands of the machine does it make the product any different? Or is it only the man that the produce has passed through that is changed? Hubby delights in his garlic, he only grows seven different kinds. All in all it was a real good market day. We even sold one of my Moms paintings.
When we left market at mid noon, Amish man Dan paid us in barter for bringing his load of corn to market in our trailer. We were happy to take the scrapings of the corn harvest left in our wagon back home to our chickens. We picked out maple syrup, cucumbers and onions. At home we sliced the cucumbers and make the onions into rings to fashion into cucumber- onion salad because we were going to Farmer Bob’s pot- luck dinner.

I mixed in the usual vinegar, water, salt, pepper and a dash of sugar but I also added some of our lime basil and chopped up some of the colorful nasturtium flowers to sprinkle in it. Not too much, I wanted people to recognize the cucumber-onion salad that that our own Grandmothers made for our family reunions when we were kids. So I kept to the familiar taste with a slight twist, and an added dash of color. It was so pretty! I find that a grand way to keep such a dish cool on the way to the pot- luck dinners is to not put the full amount of water that is called for into the mix. But at the last minute when you are dashing out your door and tucking the chilled dish into the cooler with your ice packs, then you add tiny little ice cubes to the cucumber and onion mix, this will keep it sparkling cold, just give it a stir when you pull it out to eat, the cubes will have melted into ice cold water by then.

So I am glad that I wandered off from my supposed duties the day that the nasturtium flowers enticed me. You never know where such wonderings might lead you!

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Letters to a Friend - 6

2004-07-09T06:47:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Dear Luke,

In my last letter to you I began to write about what it means to me that I believe a different story about the origins of Christianity. The five letters I have already written to you clearly show that I now believe many things about Jesus that I was never taught in the tradition and culture I was brought up in.

I wrote these words to you, Luke: The mission and message of Jesus was one of awakening the God-aspect in each human.

Can you just imagine for a moment what the history of the last 1650 years would have been if Rome had carried this message to people over the centuries? Certainly there never would have been the blood-baths carried on in the name of Jesus Christ. Closer to home, there would not be zealous Christians scurrying about trying to convert every human to their own brand of beliefs. (By the way, the history of the Native Indians of America would be quite different too, don’t you agree?)

Why do you suppose Jesus was killed? Since you are attached to traditional Christian beliefs, Luke, more than likely you believe that Jesus was born to die for the sins of the world – the sacrificial lamb. I no longer believe this. I see Jesus as a man who stuck to his beliefs about the God-aspect of the human, and eventually this got him in trouble with those in authority. Remember that Jesus was called a blasphemer: “You are only a man and yet you equate yourself with God?” And Jesus replied, “Have you not read in the scriptures that you are all gods?” The people were so agitated when Jesus said these words that they picked up stones to kill him. They didn’t succeed that day, but eventually he was killed. It is very curious to me that the Roman Church preserved this particular story in the New Testament yet chose to ignore it.

Luke, when was the last time you preached a sermon, or heard a sermon preached on the subject that humans are gods? Why is it easier to preach a sermon that the human is a sinner and needs to repent than it is to tell the truth about the divinity of each and every human?

Life would be so different if each of us would genuinely look in the mirror and see God within. Likewise, carry this image of your divinity to the very next person you see Luke – whether it is your wife or son or the homeless man standing next to you in the grocery line. Look into the eyes of another human and see that he/she (like you) is divine!

We are all divine beings – each and every human, whatever color or position in society, regardless of age or gender, whatever religion or nationality – all are divine beings.

In my last letter to you, Luke, I wrote that “insightful people have gone so far as to suggest that the religious era is over.”

The era that we are moving into today is totally new. Humans will be changing from the inside out. In fact, some are suggesting that these changes are already happening. In the new era the old ways of looking at life and reality will no longer be helpful. My personal feeling about this is that our view about Jesus and the origins of Christianity will undergo a massive change. Just looking at my own life, I have changed dramatically from the person you knew twenty years ago. And I am not alone; I don’t think I am exaggerating when I say that thousands upon thousands of people are attesting to a change happening within them.

Luke, I am very excited by the prospects I see of the change that is happening. It hasn’t been easy. When I first began to question the basic foundations of my Christian faith and upbringing, I felt as though I was being torn apart deep within my heart and mind. However, what I have found is something I never anticipated. I discovered a deep well within me that is beginning to appear like an open-ended journey!

One last thing before I close this letter. Today, as I write this letter to you, I see the Jesus story with different eyes. I no longer look at his story as someone who lived 2000 years ago – a Master or Lord I need to worship and revere. I now see the Jesus story as my story – as your story and every human’s story. For we are indeed gods in this world who are seeking to express aspects of our divinity; we meet with opposition and trouble comes to us; we do not back down and change our perspective and self-understanding…and in the end, death brings new opportunity to express yet newer aspects of our divinity. We are each, after all, magnificent divine beings. This is our story: We are Christ!

Luke, in my next letter I will bring what may turn into a bigger story to you than the things I have already written.

With kindest regards,

Joseph

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.
Comment here: Readers and Writers Forum

57 Chevy

2004-07-08T08:21:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

I lucked out that I got a window seat in the back of the car. Being one of four kids in the backseat of a '57 Chevy for three and a half hours, I would have died had I not been able to sit by the window. My attention was focused outside the car; on the night sky, the stars, the black landscape shooting past, the barely discernable undulation of arroyo and mesa. It was like watching a dream floating by. The reflections on the car window further played on the dream-like effect. It was like daydreaming at night. Soon, I was floating above the desert; above the car. I could see the headlights of my parent's car down below me. I could feel the cold black night air flowing over me and it was wonderful. And then! Small white lights began popping up on the horizon. They seemed to multiply. A bump in the road slammed my face up against the car window, and I came to full consciousness. Squinting, I saw those city lights in the distance and became excited, for I knew we would soon be in a strange city, and that we would soon be stopping for a much-needed car break. I couldn't wait to get a whiff of that cool desert night air, and I couldn't wait to see and feel a new place.

Book Release Update

2004-07-08T08:17:00.000-06:00

Book Release Update

My book The Valley of the Singing Girl is now available in a new second edition, featuring a new front and back cover, a new design, and a bonus book excerpt from my book, Rejuvenation. It's available in a trade paperback or instantly downloadable ebook.

The Valley of the Singing Girl, by White Feather. TPB. Once, long ago, the ruler of a mountainous Asian nation sought counsel from a Tibetan holy man on how he could help lead his people through change. The holy man gave the leader a magic flute that would drastically change his life. This is the story of that flute which led the leader on a journey of self-realization. The flute would eventually lead him to a young farm girl who had the most divine singing voice in the world. When she sang, people wept at the beauty of it and people were also healed. What happened when the flute, the leader, and the singing girl got together is an event of divine proportions. A very moving story.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, July 7, 2004

2004-07-07T08:39:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guide Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

[Sharing one from last year. Message received at home on September 25, 2003.]

Today Barb chooses to celebrate with us as we celebrate our diverse and solitary connection to the One God. For there are many connections and there is but one connection. You do know there are many paths on the journey to God's heart. All these many paths are on one path, encompassing All That Is and it circles through in cycles of spirals to and fro God. We come out -- we go in. The pace is yours to decide. The direction toward or away is also. There are a great many paths. You meet fellow souls traveling these, some for longer and some not so long at all. See each one as part of God, on the path with you for however long. Know that in every moment you are with God. Even when by yourself. Ye are never alone for ye are all one. Consider yourself blessed every day ye wake up for ye shall see God that day. Know that as ye fall asleep at night that ye will see God that night. What dreams may come! See the messages that are laid out for you in many places. With people, with plants, with music, with art, with insects, with minerals & crystals, with children, with colors, with tones, with your thoughts, powerful as they are -- these all carry messages to you, to your soul. Know your soul. Your soul may tell you messages no other may. Listen to all. Enjoy all. Know all. Our message to you today is one of attention. Hearing the messages that are for you to notice. Hear all the thoughts in your head. Notice them. Discern the truth of them, feel truth or no truth. Use your listening for messages to lead you places your soul desires to be. Let your attention wander where your soul would lead it. Feel the rightness with your heart. When your attention gets called to something who does the calling? Why are you called? Consider these when you consider where your attention is. We have given you many messages. Many others receive messages from Spirit beings now. You must discern wisely for yourself which to pay attention to. You are gaining something by *paying* attention....know that which you are gaining of! We enjoy sharing with you greatly. We encourage all of you to take a little time once in awhile to discover your guides in Spirit on your path. We are ever here and but a thought away. On behalf of the Spirit guides and angels, we say you all are dearly beloved and we are here for you. You are loved eternally. Peace. Your eternal brothers and sisters in the One God.

Creator Bless! God Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.

Mouse in the House

2004-07-06T01:26:00.000-06:00

by Lightdance

He cleared the corner from the hallway to the kitchen at top speed, then stopped dead in his tracks. From the corner of my eye, I caught only a blur, but it was enough to make me freeze in position, spoon from the cereal bowl half lifted to my mouth. From my vantage point at the kitchen table I sensed that even the slightest twitch would send him scurrying back to some hidden hole in the laundry room, only to frighten him into yet another day of fearful hiding. Or worse yet, back underneath the kitchen cabinets where there was no hope of exit.

He looked at me, I looked at him. Not trusting his chances to make it past me and through the sliding door to freedom, he sat for a moment weighing his chances, then turned and high-tailed back to wherever he had come from.

"Damn!" , I thought. He had no way of knowing that I would not block his escape, or that in fact I had left the sliding door open just for him, despite the morning bugs that insisted they liked it better inside the house than out.

I was elated to see him still trying to survive, still trying his luck from room to room, in hopes that he might get lucky and find a way out. Judging from the where the cat sniffed, we could tell which room he was hiding in and closed the doors to the others in hopes he would not dart in another direction. Images of mouse chewn boxes and furniture, or little mouse babies, evoked a heavy sigh, and I was determined to help him out of here as soon as possible.

The dilema was that it is against my own personal code to kill any living creature, except flies and mosquitos and the occasional Black Widow.

"I have to hand it to ya, little guy," I thought, "You still haven’t given up." I wondered if I would be so perservering in a similar situation.

I was also secretly pleased to see that he hadn’t suffered any apparent damage from his encounter with Gorka, the cat, the previous morning. It was the first good look I’d gotten since he was deposited here, unless you count the grey blur I saw run past me out of the master bathroom as I walked in, at six in the morning.

Yesterday the day had started early, with a scruffle under the very same table. It had only taken Gorka minutes to catch the poor little guy and bring him flailing helplessly into the house, where he has the nasty habit of finishing off his prey. It had happened twice before; once with a beautiful, delicate green and black bird, and once with a gopher. Both in the span of two weeks time.

It seems Gorka has adapted to life in the forests quite well. Before we loaded him onto the plane for California, he had been a lazy European house cat, scared of everything including his own shadow. Now he scales the 6-ft. wooden fence with ease, almost always returning with some prize, even if it is only mud caked on his paws and face, from sprinting and digging and whatever else cats do in the wild.

"You'd better watch it, Fluffball..there are cougars and bears and coyotes out there!" I tell him. He always responds with a flippant Meow! as if to tell me "So what?!" And every day is a constant hunt like the day before.

As soon as our uninvited guest was deposited on the kitchen floor, I knew that I would have to be creative to take care of this one. Everyone else in the house wanted to immediately set a mouse-trap, the same as when we realized our back yard was being invaded by gophers and a spring garden was out of the question.

We solved that issue with a few large containers on our back porch, before we realized that in the micro climate of the redwoods, hardly anything grows well at all, and what we did manage to grow got consumed by insects anyway. I was glad we hadn’t killed any gophers just so we could try our hand at a failed crop of veggies!

Gazing at the seperation in the cabinet where our little mousey friend had lept, I remembered my old friend Dorothy Maclean, who was one of the three original founders of Findhorn. She had been in charge of starting the incredible gardens there. She once told a story of how the old wooden floor beneath the little cottage she had inherited when they bought the property had been infested with mice. Infested was one way of looking at it..actually she respected that that had been their home long before she got there. But their scratching and clawing all night long made it impossible for her to sleep. If she was to live there, the mice had to go. However there was never any thought to a mass masacre of field mice.

In her books, Dorothy explains that the secret to her huge and extraordinary success in the sandy, ungrowable soil that was the original Findhorn, was the communications that she held, through meditation, with the archetypes of the plant and animal kingdoms. She called them "Angels". Each living entity has an angel, on both an individual and group level. In other words, she reasoned, each mouse has an angel, as well as there being one for that particular gathering of mice, and another one for the species. The same for humans, for plants, even for cities and countries. Except for flies and mosquitos and the occasional Black Widow.

So she went into dialog with the mice beneath her bed. She made a deal with them to relocate, by offering them protection and an undisturbed food supply. The next morning they were gone, and she found them later in the exact location she had proffered in exchange! The mice stayed away as long as she kept up her end of the deal!

Because Dorothy is such a warm, loving and down to earth soul, I decided to try her technique in communicating with animals, to varying degrees of success. I had had some luck with a couple of cows who were stuck behind a trench last spring, showing them the way to safety in meditation from my back porch as I watched them from a distance. So why not with this little mouse?, I thought.

I sat quietly and began to meditate. Instantly I felt that poor little mouse huddled in the dark corner under the cabinet, scared and confused. I sent him warmth and comfort and began projecting the pathway from the cabinet to the sliding door, projecting feelings of safety and freedom as best I could. I communicated that he try and get out to the door. Any other options would lead to his death. Then I left him alone.

Moments later, the little grey snout peeked out from behind the floorboard and he dashed across the kitchen, definitely in the right direction.

At that moment, a huge ball of white fur appeared and pounced towards the little grey creature scuttling across the floor. With lightening speed, he veered off in another direction and ran down the hallway, ducking into the study. With a cat on his tracks, he then dashed across the hall to the safety of the laundry room, resting beneath the washing machine.

Bored with the sport, Gorka retired to another room. Three times that night the little field mouse made a bolt for the sliding door, and three times was foiled by cat or human. It got to be quite funny! I continued projecting the vision to freedom each time I thought of it throughout the evening. At midnight the door was closed, locks turned and lights turned out.

"You’ll just have to wait til morning now. Good luck," I wished him as I crawled into bed.

After spotting this terrified but brave little soul in his last attempt out the door this morning, I felt remose at the fear he was experiencing. I could imagine the feeling of being teleported to a strange and presumably hostile world, and the confusion and fear I would experience if it were me.

As luck would have it, I found him seconds later hiding under the plastic garbage bag I had just replaced with a fresh one in the guest bathrooom. I gently closed the bathroom door and grabbed the small vanity trash can, fortunately empty, and began to project feelings of safety as I walked towards the poor trembling creature in the corner. I layed the can on its side and slid it towards the mouse, then quickly scooted him in the can with my hand and ran to the back yard with the mouse inside. In his freedom, the little grey mouse couldn’t dig fast enough or deep enough as he ran, then dove, then ran again through the thick, tall grass.

Did the meditations help? I’ll never know for sure.

But I was proud to resist the mocking stares of my family as I sat in meditation and discovered what it felt like to be a mouse in someone else’s house. If nothing else, it served to deepen my respect for all of God’s creatures, large or small...
Except flies and mosquitos and the occasional Black Widow.

Copyright © 2004, by Lightdance. All Rights Reserved.
Comment here: Readers and Writers Forum

Valley of Heat

2004-07-04T07:41:00.000-06:00

by Trendle Ellwood

Morning comes fast on market day Saturdays. The birds are already singing before the sun has even peeked over Farmer Shaws wood lot. I always wonder about these birds, rising before the sun. Do they think it is their job to sing the sun awake? Usually I wish that they would just let me sleep a few hours longer, my body is not yet ready to rise, what makes them always so eager? Truly I am jealous of them and I wish that I had their zeal, but of course they were not up late past midnight re-cooking the Rhubarb jam that did not set, nor were they fretting over labels and putting the last flower stalks in place.

So wearily I rise from my bed and begin the day. We finish packing the pickup truck and off we go as the sun peeks through the humid mist filled July air. And like every Saturday morning we pass Amish man Dan in his carriage with his horses. Hubby pulls into McDonalds to grab a sausage burger to go and I have the sudden urge to run in to use the rest room. As I came out Amish man Dan is giving us a wave as he chuckles because he is passing us by.

Dan has brought his youngest child to market with him today. He is so cute, a tiny little tike all decked out in Amish style. Black pants and vest, dark blue shirt and an Amish hat upon his head. He cannot be over two or three. He comes to visit us and stands there with large brown eyes watching everything as I jabber to him and ask his name. Later talking with Dan I find out why the little fellow would give me no reply. For Dan informs me that he does not know English but only the German that is spoken at home. I give the little tike one of our dry erase boards to draw on, thinking he might have some fun with it. He goes back to his fathers stand and soon comes back with a word written on it. JOHN it says. So he must have understood that I was asking him his name.

As morning spins towards noon, it gets very hot. We have our awning for shade but still upon the black pavement with hardly any breeze, I feel much hotter then I did all week even out in the patch picking berries. Little John is crying and I give him an ice-cold water. My blood begins to feel as if it is curdling and Dan’s horses which are still trussed together as a team in the sun I can hardly stand to turn my eyes to. They keep trying to twist around to use their tails to flick the flies off of one another, and they stamp their feet in impatience. My heart goes out to them and little John and I am so hot, I feel as if I will faint. But I put on my smile and sale our wares, wishing that the time would come to leave. Farmer Bob helps out by playing his violin and I sing him the song that I wrote to my daughter when she was a child and we were both missing Missouri and he picks up the tune and plays it back for me.

July is hard ,I don’t do well with the heat, I go home with a big headache and a kink in my neck which I try to nap away. I didn’t even go out and pick the berries in the afternoon but let Hubby do it alone. Yesterday I had become boiling mad at the bugs. Bad enough the Japanese beetles with their scratchy little legs, but now a new bug that I don’t even know has come along. This one gets up into the red raspberry and ruins it. If it had been up to me, we would have burned the whole patch down yesterday. I can surely understand why people turn to poison sprays. It would be so satisfying just to watch them squirm and die. But to me it would be like throwing out the baby with the dirty bath water.

Speaking of water it is hard to believe with all the rain that we got this spring that we are in dire need of a rain now. It will rain sometime soon and I will worship it when it comes. I will stand out in it and let it soak into my skin. I will lift up my arms in praise and let the tears fall with the rain.

All night long I dreamed about Amish man Dan and little John. I dreamed that Dan had gotten robbed on his way home and when I came upon them the police had already come. Little John was in bad shape, very hot and thirsty. I talked Dan into letting me take him with me, so that I could get him home faster. But on the way home I got lost, ended up down in the Hocking Hills and it was snowing. I feared that I would drive us off the hilly roads and into a snowy ditch. All I had to give little John was water in a bottle. Finally I arrived at the Amish home, where Dan’s wife had hamburgers ready.

Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

Letters to a Friend – 5

2004-07-02T06:14:00.000-06:00

by Joseph Babinsky

Dear Luke,

In my last letter to you I wrote that I would go into the subject of what this means to me.

In some ways, Luke, it appears that it doesn’t make a bit of difference to most people living today that Rome did what they did to the Gnostics. As I mentioned, history is written by the winners, not the losers. Countless people have listened for over sixteen hundred years to the Roman version of history and we grant that her message is well-engrained in the mass consciousness of humanity. What I am writing to you will seem to be like a very small pebble thrown into the ocean; there will be some splash and a few ripples, but the ocean is so vast that the ripples I make will appear to be swallowed up quickly and lost in the surface of the water. However, I am of the viewpoint that nothing is ever really lost.

Change is already here, Luke, and it won’t be long before you will see big changes taking place in the way humans look at religion and Christianity in particular.

Some insightful people have gone so far as to suggest that the religious era is over. I have heard it said (prophesied) that the next Pope of the Roman Catholic Church will be the last. The Roman Church has been such a predominant fixture in human history I have a hard time imagining a world without her; for that matter I have a hard time imagining a world without some sort of Christian church or other religious institution.

But I digress from what I intended to write: What does it mean to me that I know that the Romans rewrote the history of the origins of Christianity?

Luke, please recall what Jesus is reported to have said about children and the kingdom of God. Did he not say that if we would see the kingdom of God that we should become as little children? And what are the characteristics of children? A few of the characteristics of children are that they have an active imagination and they love to play. And - of course, children do laugh a lot too – that is, until adults come along and tell the children to keep the noise level toned down! Remember the story told in the New Testament of Jesus welcoming the children?

Perhaps this is the core of what I see as the legacy of the Gnostics and the authentic origins of Christianity. It is a way of looking at our world and reality. The Gnostics, as I see it, were very playful and imaginative men and women. They saw themselves as “little gods,” as Christed-people. Recall that Paul often spoke of this as the mystery hid for all ages but now revealed to us at this time. And what did Paul say the mystery was? Paul said that the mystery is Christ within you. This is the message we humans are to hear.

And Jesus said it too, namely, the kingdom of God is within you.

The mission and message of Jesus and the Gnostics was one of awakening the God-aspect of each human. And this God-aspect is already present - within each human; it is not something that was ever lost. Therefore, it does not need to be added, given, earned or worked for. There is no religious ritual or rite that is necessary to be administered in order to receive the God-aspect. Our God-Self is who we are and it is our birthright. To me, this clearly is the core of the Jesus story.

The essential message is that of assisting the human to reclaim his/her Christ aspect. This is what was lost when Rome took hold and changed history. Rome changed an interior message to an exterior one. All the fancy trappings of Roman rituals and dogmas and elite hierarchies only provided the veneer of the Christ-life, but there was no real substance present of the actual Christed-life. And my opinion is that this is also true of all Rome’s children, namely, the Protestant movement.

The shift in human consciousness that is happening in our time is really the story of Christ being told in the fullness it was meant to be told. The Jesus story really is all about humans and who humans really are in their essential being-ness.

Luke, I will write more about this message in my next letter. I feel that I may have given you a lot to think about today.

Until I write again,

Kindest regards,

Joseph

Copyright © 2004, by Joseph Babinsky. All Rights Reserved.

Crazy Horse, St. Bernadette, and Edgar Cayce

2004-07-01T09:00:00.001-06:00

by White Feather

So what do Crazy Horse, St. Bernadette, and Edgar Cayce all have in common? Just for fun, let's take a look...

Interestingly, the lives of Crazy Horse and St. Bernadette were pretty darn co-linear. Crazy Horse was born in either 1840 or 1844 and was assasinated in 1877. St. Bernadette, the young French girl who was visited by the Female Christ in a grotto outside of Lourdes, was born in 1844 and died in 1879, at the age of 35. Crazy Horse was either 33 or 37 when he died. Their lives were going on at the very same time on the opposite sides of the globe, and they were as opposite as could be. (Or were they?)

Edgar Cayce wasn't born until 1877, the year Crazy Horse died, and two years before St. Bernadette died (to this day her body has not decomposed). Cayce probably had more in common with Bernadette than with Crazy Horse. Both were very Christianity oriented, and both had encounters with the Female Christ. But Crazy Horse's religion--that of the Lakota--was all based on the Female Christ/White Buffalo Calf Woman. So all three individuals are tied into the Female Christ. That's what they have in common.

Another curiosity they have in common is that they are all three Spring babies. Cayce was born on March 18th, a late Pisces just a few days away from Aries. Bernadette was an Aries born on April 16th. Crazy Horse's birthday is unknown, but it is recorded that it was a Spring birth in the Indian months that correspond with our March and April.

Something else they have in common--to some extent--is that they were all three persecuted by Christians. With Crazy Horse it was more indirect. His people were simply wiped out by a people carrying the dual flags of Christianity and the United States. His people's spiritual foundations based upon the Female Christ/White Buffalo Calf Woman were attacked and vilified by the conquering white Christian army.

With St. Bernadette it was more personal. When news broke of her miraculous meeting with the Female Christ, the very first one to attack the reports was the Christian Church. Bernadette's local Christian church put her on trial, threatening to banish her from the church for her claims to have spoken to the Female Christ. It was the village people; the ones who had been cured by the miracle waters brought forth by Bernadette's meetings with the Female Christ, the ones who had thrown away their crutches and wheel chairs and eye patches and such, who finally convinced the local priest that Bernadette was not evil. Once the priest was finally convinced, Bernadette was still not off the hook for the priest had to convince the Holy See--which took an incredibly long time. The Christian Church was Bernadette's biggest enemy, but they finally called her a saint. To Bernadette, it didn't matter.

It was personal for Cayce, too. While he was living in Bowling Green, Kentucky, the church Cayce belonged to--and for whom he taught Sunday Bible school--actually initiated excommunication procedures to have Cayce removed from their church because of his psychic abilities. Cayce was utterly horrified that his own brethren would do that to him. Cayce considered himself an extremely devout Christian and to be accused of evil was earthshattering to him.

The church administration was shocked to open the proceedings for the excommunication to a standing room only audience. It seemed every member of the congregation showed up, and they all testified, one after the other, in Cayce's defense. They told of their babies who had been so sick that the medical establishment had given up, and how Cayce's "evil psychic" advice saved their babies and restored their health. They told of endless medical miracles, and spiritual miracles, too. After a day's worth of people testifying on Cayce's behalf, the church's governing body dismissed all charges against Cayce. If they hadn't, they would have been mobbed by practically the entire congregation.

Cayce never forgot!

Cayce, St. Bernadette, and Crazy Horse are all considered saints, or near-saints, by their followers, yet all three were branded as evil, at one time, by the hierarchical elite aspects of Christendom. This is something everyone eventually confronts who follows the way of the Female Christ. One can get mad and hold a grudge and fight back, like Cayce or Crazy Horse, or one can be totally oblivious, like Bernadette. It is assumed that both Cayce's body and Crazy Horses's body have decomposed, whereas Bernadette's body is as fresh today as it was when she died 125 years ago.

Something to think about, anyway.

Peter & Gabriel’s Message, June 30, 2004, Part 2 of 2

2004-06-30T07:12:00.000-06:00

by Mountain Wolf VT

My spirit guide Peter & Archangel Gabriel share a weekly message here every Wednesday. There are more channeled messages and individual readings in my forum Spirit in the Sky – A Journey Back to God.

Part 1 of this message is in “Peter & Gabriel’s Message, June 23, 2004”.

Healing of the planet begins with you, and you have such great power in you, do you know? The power is love, always love is the great power. The eternal, everlasting power in infinity, with no beginning and no ending, Love is real. You are real. Acknowledge your source, and acknowledge yourself. The love within you will take you through whatever may come, and will help you to heal. Remember to dwell in the heart when you have fears or worries, and your heart will help re-mind you, to heal. We ask that your hearts be continuously strengthened through the power of love, and that you shall know us who are in spirit that seek to help you through these times. The sands of one time are running out. Feel the love restoring you to your truth, your light, your love, and your wisdom. Accept the wisdom offered back to you by those who have held this for you, while you descended into another experience. Be joyous and be at one with your friends on the earth plane, the dolphins and the whales. Thank them for being your steadfast companions, and for their wisdom and their hearts, which have long been connected closely with yours. For they have done their job well, and they have held onto what may have been lost to you, if not for their willingness to abide with you. Do not destroy precious life, including any of the planet’s life. Your home depends on clean air, clean water, clean ground. Do what you can to preserve your own environment. Seek not to go elsewhere and spread your wastes, until you have done what is needed right here at home. We speak to you of your priorities as human beings, as countries, as a world. Make your home one of your top priorities. Space will be there, it can wait. Earth cannot wait. Earth needs your help now. It is time to begin to understand your oneness again, so that you can unite and do something to preserve your home for all the future ones who desire to live here, for your children and your grandchildren’s sake, and all those who come after them, do what you can to uplift the whole of humanity and rejoin in your hearts as a family. A family looks after one another and looks after the home, and ensures the family is provided for. We care so much about you, and we see that you may improve your lives and your world around you. It starts with you, one by one, and you will find that you truly are not that different from your brothers and sisters around the planet. Be kind, try not to label others with the brain, and know them with your hearts instead. For you are all family, and your family is much larger than just humankind. Remember the plants and the trees kingdom, which give you food and beauty and clean air. You need your trees for producing oxygen from the carbon dioxide. Remember your insects, for they are a food source and they have their own beauty too, appreciate their contribution to the balance in your world. Your butterflies delight many, please give them a safe habitat. Remember your animal kingdom, which provide you companionship, food, clothing, and enjoy them, and appreciate them. They have a valuable role to play in the balance of life on earth. Remember your mineral and crystal kingdom. For these ones are aware and have many helpful uses to humanity. So much is misunderstood about the ones you interact with. So many serve earth and in turn humanity is served. Be respectful of all your precious life forms. Be aware of the role the elements play in your life, in the balance of earth. Fire, water, air and earth are integrated, and they have their own ways of being. Honor and respect them, for they are wise and know what they do. They are earth’s tools and she uses them to maintain balance and harmony, to preserve order. Before you judge something as a bad or negative thing, remember too that all has a purpose, all is part of your world for a reason. We ask that you all pray for your hearts to return to peace with one another, for this will dramatically ease the balancing act which will possibly otherwise be needed. Your home is in need of balancing, and you too have tools, as well as earth, to achieve this. Be careful with your judgments, and with your own inner balance. Do not let your heads and brains guide you without your hearts, souls and spirits also. Let there be balance. We are one with all, with you.

God Bless! Creator Bless!

Copyright © 2004, by Mountain Wolf VT. All Rights Reserved.