Do you see me?
Do you see the granite in my eyes?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear the wind across my face?
I have been here
More than a million years, and
I will be here more than a million more.
Remember.
That is how you see me.
Remember,
And you will hear me.
It is then you will remember
You.
How young and foolish
I once was.
I know that now you see.
In the years
I’ve left behind
I’ve grown to understand
the world will never change with me
but I can change within.
Veils lift
worlds meet.
Time, space, distance
do not exist
in this time out of time
where worlds meet,
veils lift
at 4:00 a.m.;
my life is enriched.
This is reality.
I have hurt for the world
when the world didn’t hurt.
I have taken your pain,
your tears,
your griefs.
Your burdens you gave,
your karma I took,
but at last
I’ve forgiven
the one who’s to blame
and given me
back
to me.
Now gather round and listen mate I’ll tell you of a tale how Captain Blarney met his fate when searching for a whale.
He never was a sea-going man, preferring scotch to rum, the boat he bought was green and tan, with shrouds that just wouldn’t hum.
His boat was made of fiberglass, as light as it could be; he dreamed of all the boats he’d pass when he went out to sea.
He took a lesson now and then to teach him how to sail but no one in this world of men told him about The Gale.
The day was filled with storms and squalls when Blarney left the dock. The troughs were deep, the water walls but Blarney didn’t take stock.
“It’s whales I want to see,” he said. “They run this time of year.” The salt on short just shook his head and drank another beer.
“The Gale will get that foolish one,” the salt said through his beard. “He’ll find out sailing’s not all fun, the sea, she’s to be feared.”
Old Blarney laughed ‘till ten miles out still looking for the whale but when he turned the boat about he ran into The Gale.
Now when you go a sailing mate, remember of this tale, and know that Blarney was the bait for an old, humpback whale.
(Originally published in 1978, I feel this article is as important today as it was then.)
Woman in her struggle for freedom must first find herself. She must travel alone into the recesses of her being and learn the awareness of her own changing before embarking on a crusade to change others; she must perceive the universe from her own sight less she becomes a mere parrot; she must understand the joys of her own choosing rather than accepting those choices dictated for her. Freedom comes, not from the trading of old chains for new ones, but through a very private and personal interior journey into the abyss of self.
This journey is one of loneliness, of pain and heart wrenching questions. It is constant combat, this struggle of self, fought alone, the only ally also the contender. Each summit reached bringing forth another mountain of doubt. Though the journey through the labyrinth of self is filled with conflict, turmoil, and embittered dispute, the reward too is great. At the end of the sojourn lies freedom, self-liberation.
Without this journey into self, I fear we will only be exchanging new myths for old ones. Without first being a woman unto ourself no job, no law, no man, no one, can give us the freedom, the liberation, the self of Myself.
I listen to the music of the heartbeat of Mother Earth,
and it is my heartbeat.
I listen to my heartbeat,
and it is the heartbeat of all who walk this earth now
and all who have walked before.
I and they have the same heartbeat.
You whom I love
and you whom I fear,
my friend and my enemy.
our hearts beat the same,
our heart beats the same beat.
We are not separate,
we are one.
We have the same heartbeat.
We move differently to the same rhythm,
but our hearts beat to the same beat,
the same beat as Mother Earth.
Why then do we fight?
Why then do we see so differently?
Why then do we forget to love one another?
Why then do we experience so differently?
Why is our expression of life so different?
Why do we not love one another more?
We have the same heartbeat,
the same beat as Mother Earth.
Six thousand years before Jesus was born Zoroaster lived.
Spokesman for the Parsi God Ahura-Mazda, Zoroaster taught the Parsi priest and people that there is both good and evil in the world, and that it is the responsibility of every person to choose good for the sake of the world.
Zoroaster said that the warfare between right and wrong in our hearts is also the world struggle, and it is the struggle in the unseen world as well. Hosts of demons are continually contending against angelic hosts.
The Parsi believed that when they became 15, they take one of the angels for protection, one of the wise as a personal sage, and one of the high priests as a personal high priest. This will help the person follow the Parsi law, which says, “If you follow that which is good, good is your reward; if you follow evil, you will be rewarded with evil.
“So you must continually pray for wisdom and seek, by every possible means, to determine what is evil and what is good.”
We all must choose that which is good.
It is often said the Magi attending the birth of Jesus were Parsi, wise men who were followers of Zoroaster and teachers who illuminated the path for Jesus.
What’s it like to connect with Spirit World, to see and communicate with people who have crossed over? Mystics and psychics know. Anyone who has had a near death experience knows. Everyone who has had a visit from a loved one knows. I know.
As a child barely old enough to walk, my grandfather held my hand and talked to me, while his body lay in the nearby casket. As I grew older my two best friends were twins, a sister and brother, who were not of this world. Although no one else could see them, they were quite real to me.
These experiences are fairly common in early childhood. By the time we reach school age, most of us have left behind their “imaginary” friends and guardian angels who walk with us.
Sadly, the world often demands this of us, to leave behind those in Spirit World as we move into teenage years and then adulthood. I tried. I even thought I had succeeded.
It wasn’t until I was well into adulthood that I realized I really hadn’t left behind my spirit friends after all. They were there all the time just waiting for me to allow them their voice. The twins were gone; they were still youngsters in Spirit World, of less assistance to my adult life. Still, I felt their laughter as I began working with Phillip, my main spirit guide, the communicator.
We have multiple spirits around us, each having a different purpose. Some are with us our whole human life while others move in and out of our life as needed. Once I was comfortable working with Phillip, I began meeting others who work with me. They came to me as I needed to know them and when I was open to learning about them. For example, Isadora the healer worked with me as I healed from a motorcycle spill. Michael the protector showed up anytime I felt fear when confronted with an uncomfortable situation.
I also learned to communicate with people and animals I loved who had crossed over. It began in grief when I asked my friend Anne who had died to give me a sign. As I did, I felt a lifting of my grief, a smile came, and I felt lighter. Time had no meaning as I felt her laughter within me. And I knew, just knew Anne was communicating with me, letting me know she was okay.
After my mother’s death, I was still in a state of shock from the car accident that took her life when I asked her for a sign to let me know she was okay. I walked around the corner from one room to another. As I looked ahead toward the wall into the next room, I felt a breeze flow through me. It was then I noticed the painting on the wall moving, tilting. I moved closer to straighten the painting when I felt a presence. It was then I knew that it was Anne titling the painting. After all, she was the painter.
“Thank you, Anne,” I said quietly. “Thank you for letting me know Mother’s okay, that you and others are with her, helping her make her transition.
Over the years, I’ve received many a communication from Mother and Anne, and other loved ones who are in Spirit World including people I’ve never met. My meaningful messages from those I love pushed me into helping others who needed contact with their loved ones who have passed over.
Doing so came easy for me, to receive messages and pass them along to clients who ask for such messages. I don’t always see the loved one in Spirit World, and yet I feel them in such a way I know what they look like, and what their personalities were like when they lived in the third dimension.
Almost always, they will show me what they are doing. Some are in school; some have jobs; some are enjoying leisure, some are still transitioning, and unfortunately some are not aware they are in Spirit World.
Moving into this world of spirit even helped me with one of my books, The Found Child. In the story, Phillip takes Diana, the main character, through different dimensions of Spirit World. When I was writing this book I felt the same I do when doing a reading with a client who requests a message from a loved one in Spirit World.
I am alert and wide awake while at the same time experiencing the energy I liken to a deep meditation. I’m in more than one dimension, fully aware of this parallel world while also being fully present in this third dimensional world. And it all feels normal to me.
Over the years Phillip has become my guide, my teacher, and in many ways my best friend. An old Druid, he was my teacher many lifetimes ago. He stands over my left shoulder when I’m with a client, standing in front of an audience, when I’m writing, and even when I’m watching the brilliance of the sunset or walking in nature.
“Look Phillip. Do you see that hawk flying overhead?” I ask. It is then I feel his energy move over me, and I smile. My heart is warmed.
Moving into Spirit World can be dangerous for some. I’ve been blessed to have Phillip and others to hold me as I say my prayer of protection that only love may come to me. I’m blessed to so easily communicate with those in Spirit World, to have teachers to help me grow, protectors to keep me safe, and of course, to have Phillip, the one who guides me and helps me guide others.
Can anyone sleep on a night such as tonight with a moon so big and melting into the darkness of the night and the jubilation of the fairy folk resounding through the forest.
The cats are purring in their sleep and the dogs are singing with the coyotes. The very breath of the wind shimmers with a gossamer trail that streaks through the night.
Sleep is not possible on such a mystical night. Who would want to sleep and miss all this?
There is magic in the air. I feel it in my breath. Something very special is taking place all around the universe. God is smiling. I feel the joy of this magic, this moment in time when the angels too are smiling.
It reminds me of when I walked out of the Great Pyramid of Giza or sat atop a butte in Sedona or sailed the Pacific Ocean or stood in the center of the labyrinth at midnight. The heavens are alive with the moon’s glow, and I know I am connected to millions of years of ancestors before time was time and the moon sat alone in the sky without humans to observe. I felt before as I feel now. The connection goes beyond me to the future as well.
The great moon is white and as bright as can be. I whisper my prayer and am joined by a thousand others who see the brilliance. I am fortified and I know I am never, never alone. This pleases me and makes my heart glad.
