The Best High Ever

            Whatever the course ends up authentically being, I think the key is to not slumber in waking life. To not be hypnotized and tied up by the pretty light show of all that is happening in this terribly dangerously beautiful dimension, but to remember and actualize our purpose and intention behind coming here. To master this space by mastering ourselves.

            What does that look like for each person, though?

            I assume that there are as many mastery methods as there are people. But I do suspect that the space I reach when I am deeply breathing (a challenge in itself to hold more than a minute or two) has to do with it. Coming fully, deliciously into the present moment, over and over and over again, lights the world that is “seen” with an inner illumination that can only be likened to states of being that are enhanced by chemicals of some form or another.

            True Presence is the best high ever.

            And rather than numbing you down into your body or shuttling you out of it, the altered state given by focus and attention on the lines between consciousness and physicality (namely, breath and attention) provides you with a key.

            A key to see through the illusion.

            I’ve been practicing this – for me personally, it does also have to do with the way I focus my eyes – a sort of looking “through” things that I have historically only allowed to happen when doing an intuitive healing reading or other type of non-3D-limited work. But considering that I am my most Whole when I am doing this work, why in the world had I limited my full self to the “office?”

            What was I afraid of?

            That’s an easy one to answer. I’ve been afraid of freaking people out, of them thinking I see things they may want to keep hidden (which of course I do) and of being all alone.

            Well, here’s a wake up call – aloneness comes when aloneness comes, no matter what camouflage you wear.

            And so does connection, and deep beautiful communion on many levels.

            But it is sure that the connection and communion that can gloriously blast through awareness and change everything to bring in greater expansion of this Universe we’re squeezing into finds it a more difficult path in if you are pretending to be less than you are…

            Today is the day to try it, methinks.

The Present Storm

        Let me take a look into the ethers to find some direction.

        I see a storm swirling all around me – some of the damage I sustain as a result is my doing because of my resistance and unwillingness to let bones fall as they may, but much of the storm itself is due to the pure energetic “weather” sweeping the worlds I reside in at this time. Okay. What is in the storm? It is indigo in color, shot through with golden lightning and silver rain, beating down old structures that have stood for ages upon ages and renewing the land beneath, toppling fortresses and towers made of meme and paradigm, even decimating places such as epic gardens and blooming walkways, all being cleared for the formation of something completely new.

        What will this thing be?

        …

        I am not allowed to see yet. For now, there is only the storm.

        So how to navigate such a thing?

       Obviously no external source of support can be trusted. Not because of treachery, but because of the strength and fury of this time of change. No umbrella can survive this. Whatever force is knocking down millennia-old towers of thought forms’ stone and mortar will pulverize any small, temporary (or even less small and less temporary) rain shelter that one may seek safety under.

        So grasping for any anchor outside of oneself is a fool’s errand. Okay. What other option is there? To look within, of course.

        The image that comes to mind is of one curling downward, sitting on haunches, head down, arms around knees, back curved, breathing in the still air made by the heart-filled cave between chest and chin, waiting. Feeling the storm lash and wail around the tiny space of sanctuary created by one’s own body (in this case, one’s own vibrational pattern,) but choosing instead to focus on the space of safety created by the sureness, strength, and motionless calm created by the choice to remain steadfast in the mist of such a transitional force. If one lifts her or his head to look around and focus on what is happening to objects, people, or places that are outside oneself, that head (a.k.a. that center and clarity of thought presence) can get whipped off in the debris flying about, or by the pure energy itself. To keep one’s head, maybe just for today, it must be kept quiet.

       I see. I see that old beliefs, old structures that were constructed by ourselves or others made of paradigms, expectations and understandings of “how the world works” on ALL levels, are being cleared. What will come next – that I can’t see. We have to wait until the storm shouts itself out and wet streaks of sun break that presently impenetrable indigo cloud barrier. And we can’t expect to be able to trust any one other than ourselves at this time as a source of support and inspiration. This isn’t reason to feel alone – but it is reason to feel strong. 

      Mostly because no other choice exists.

Rewriting the Empath

            This morning I do feel slightly different. I feel as if I am pushing through a transition, one that is difficult to describe but that is also giving way before me, slowly but surely, unveiling a new way of living, of being, of thinking, feeling, and experiencing the world. And the world itself is changing too, as well as my place in it.

            I used to wonder if I could hold the responsibility and charge that I could feel headed toward me. I think that this was an unconscious fear – one that I never quite let arise to the surface of my thoughts, but that only bubbled and swirled deep within. Now, I feel confident, from experimenting (and mostly seeing how frustrated interactions are when I DO “play small” and people assume me to be less than I am) that I can in fact complete my next mission. I test it from time to time, allowing the thought forms in any given area – a grocery store, a restaurant, a city square – to merge together into one flavor of varied, yet unified thoughts and feeling. In my olden days, this “noise” deafened and confused me. I remember afternoons spent lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, drifting in and out of consciousness with a pain that no one around me understood, all as a result of simply spending a few hours in a crowded place. Now I can name that feeling. Empathic overload. The lines are too stretched, and rubbed raw by the fears, worries, rage, and disappointments of others. If everyone went around swimming in gratitude and enjoyment, the backlash wouldn’t be a backlash at all. But historically, we haven’t reached that place quite yet.

            In trying to describe what this feels like, I often reference radio static. Because I’ve devoted my life to it over past years, my intuition and “reading” ability has increased to the point where I could potentially pick anyone in any crowd and give you a low-down on their situation, and their feelings about life  - their “flavor,” so to speak. Sometimes I practice this ability in traffic by reading the person driving a car before I can see them, and then once they are visible to me, checking for accuracy by using visual cues and personality assessments the way they are taught in conventional psychology to see whether or not I was right when I received my impressions. At this point, my accuracy is pretty much 100%. Great. So those degrees were good for something at least. J

            Before I could control this, as I said, it was as if there was static all around me, all the time. Wait, who am I kidding – there is STILL static around me all the time. But it isn’t verbal, as in hearing a running stream of consciousness the way movies portray this type of thing. Rather, the static is made up of emotion. Of fears, judgments, worries, addictions, envies. This is because most people walk around in this state most of the time. And since it is as if I have no skin in this matter, and I can just feel what someone else is feeling, especially when I am in an enclosed space with them (don’t even get me started on conferences,) if there are people around I always feel a blurry jumble of subjective life experience that isn’t mine.

            This can be crippling. Historically, it was for me and it still is for many, many people. And I, too, have to work around this – I had to cut a day of errands short last week here in Portland, explaining to my father (one of the people I’m visiting here) that I was brushing up against empathic overload. We were headed into a coffee shop and I balked.

            “I just don’t think I can be in a small room filled with people right now,” I told him, my eyes filming over with unshed tears.

            He startled and looked more closely at me, and then agreed that the coffee stop would be canceled.

            Over the next few moments I explained to him how it’s basically just in my code to not only feel things, but to cleanse them with my aura –

            “I’m like a walking Brita filter. For emotion, and karma, and people’s journeys.”

            Which makes me great at my job, but hinders me at, you know, life.

            However.

            Now, I am reaching this new state where I am finally VISCERALLY FEELING what the other side of the empathic spectrum is.

            Put simply, it’s this:

    Remain in your awesomeness and everyone else will have no choice but to come too.

            A common misperception is that empaths need to change those around them in order to thrive.

            Nope.

            All you have to do is HOLD YOUR CORE VIBRATION, focusing on your breath, on your movement, on the easy smile on your face and how it is sending soothing chemical triggers to your brain and body, and choosing to mentally focus purely on the game – on the sensation of downloading in here, into this very intricate role playing hologram, and rocking your Avatar in your own specific, unique ways.

            In my experience, this is only half of it. I’m pressing up against the barrier of the next phase of my mission – one that will be more challenging than others, but also almost certainly will make all other rewards I’ve gotten on all levels pale in comparison.

            About a year and a half ago,  when my guides were adjusting and tweaking EVERY second of my life down to the way my foot hit the pavement and the angle to which I held my head (I’m not kidding,) I had a moment when I felt completely fed up and exhausted.

            “Come on. I need a freaking carrot here. Show me what I’m working towards.”

            And I did that familiar whoosh through time and space meditatively, until I was standing on a stage in front of a stadium full of people. I knew that this wasn’t the present “me” because although I was technically in what appeared to be the same body, I was SO much stronger – my meridians were lined with steel basically, flowing shining energy through more quickly than I’d ever experienced. My inner state was calm, happy, languid, and completely focused. I was speaking to the assembled group, and I had no clue what I was saying, even in the moment. This was because what I and everyone else were experiencing had nothing to do with English. I was interacting, verbally and energetically, with the complex, living, moving, fractal mass of consciousness floating in the middle of the stadium, made up of the combined thoughts, feelings, emotions, potentials, and gifts of each person there. It appeared to 3D eyes that I was speaking and that was it, but both I, and everyone there, could feel the truth. There was a massive healing and activation going on – and I wasn’t directing it, I had simply refined my form and structure enough to be a conduit for Divine source energy, that could pour through me, splash right into that beautiful behemoth mass of combined focus and consciousness, and then filter down through unique and living lines to each person seated before me, shifting and altering to give them exactly what they need.

            That is what I am training for, these long years.

            Well, one of the things.

            And it sounds pretty freaking fun, to be quite honest. I’ll take it.

            My guides assured me a few days ago that I’m closer now to my perfect potential reality than I ever have been before. I believe that. And while this current nomadic life certainly has its challenges (many of them having to do with breaking from ingrained cultural paradigms,) I won’t lie – it’s also pretty awesome.

A Note on Conscious Creation

When lines blur between fanciful imagination and true non-local multidimensional perception, one need only remember that the "reality" being experienced is a fluid and changeable one.
If imbued with principles of gratitude, desire, surrender, and love, then whatever is wished for or perceived will grow and develop in its "realness," should the perceived object, situation, relationship, or experience be in alignment with Cosmic clockwork.
This is further amplified if the perceptive and creative being in question has consciously chosen to align him or herself with the living evolution of our Universe in a joyful, pleasantly anticipatory way.

Should your creations abort or crumble, know that your increased alignment is not far behind. Stagnation and/or sleepwalking is not being permitted.

In this case, surrender again to upgrades and blissful development, and devote your attention to the health of your mind, body, and spirit for a few days, purposefully avoiding your desired creation in thought and word, and when you feel cleansed of disappointment, re-examined the failed situation, seeing clearly where it did not align with your purest feelings of joy and purpose, and upgrade your intentions from that new vantage point.

Gargoyles

This one definitely goes under the category of "too odd to have made up."

This morning at about 2:45am, I found myself drifting in and out of sleep in the usual wee-hour-of-the-morning way. When I gently opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Lillithia, my beautiful little cat, perched above me and slightly to my right, sitting and leaning her head down in the graceful way cats do when they're checking something out.

Then I realized that Lill was asleep next to my pillow, and when I looked back at the shadow, it had transformed into the top part of a chair sitting next to where I was sleeping. 

Hmm. The chair looked nothing like it just had a moment ago... Oh well.

I closed my eyes to drift some more, and the next time I opened them, this time looking toward the opposite wall of my room, I saw another small (about a foot and a half tall, seated) somewhat feline shadowy being looking at me. I blinked hard and this time the shadow transformed into another benign object.

Hmm. I could have sworn that was just something else...

I still didn't think much of it (such is the yummy emotional cloak of sleepiness) until I began to do some multidimensional work. I just spent a decent chunk of time in Sedona, most definitely on assignment, both healing and activating aspects of my own consciousness stream and assisting others to do the same. I found myself being pulled back there now, zooming astrally across the landscape toward the red rocks, then accompanying some Sedonian friends deep into the mountains, flipping energetic switches and powering up aspects of the city that have been dormant for way too long. 

To assist in this work, the portion of my consciousness that still rested in Los Angeles activated my heart chakra, swirling my torus field and reaching it upward, toward the sky. When my energy reached the ceiling, a very odd sound jerked me back from my multidimensional travels to the space where I am now sitting and typing this blog post. I slammed back into my body at the same moment as Lillithia waking with a jolt, jumping to attention next to my head, looking at the window.

We were listening to a short, shrill scream or call, repeated about three times. It was not quite animal, and definitely not human, but very close. Half a second later small feet scampered across the roof.

Hmm.

At this point, I began to remember the odd "shadows" I'd seen in my room a few minutes before and replay recent events in my mind.

What exactly was going on?

Seeing shadows or patterns morph into beings and then back into recognizable (and often abstract or otherwise non-uniform structures) is a common way to use intuition to perceive other realms. It is one of the many versions of multidimensional sight, and it is very handy when on a shamanistic journey, whether the journey is purely done within oneself through meditation, or externally situated, such as on a walk through a nature preserve or park, made with the intention to connect with multidimensional beings.

What could I have seen just now?

Well, the creature(s) had reminded me of my cat, Lillithia. And since connecting with her, she has often reminded me of a dragon - so much so, in fact, that I am mostly convinced at this point that cats actually evolved from dragons (which I believe actually existed.) Have you ever really looked into a cat's very reptilian eyes? Or watched them hunt? Scales could have become fur over millennia... 

So although that particular theory is neither here nor there, as the similarities to Lill came to my attention I also remembered last fall's visit from a very magical kindred spirit of mine, who came to stay with me for a week from her home on the East Coast and reported seeing gargoyles on the roofs of houses in my neighborhood (including mine.) 

At the time, I didn't think much of it - I had definitely felt presences outside before (and still do, especially when leaving for the gym in the still-dark pre-dawn hours) and when she mentioned gargoyles, the energy of the concept rang true. That said, I hadn't woken to one leaning over me before.

But what about the scream and the scamper? That gave me pause. Did it get freaked out by my heart energy? If so, something must be done about that - I'm not particularly into beings hanging out in my bedroom who get burned by love...

So I took a look.

I sat up into lotus pose (my preferred meditation style) and began to balance my chakras. Once I felt all open and flowy, I sat my intention origin point firmly in my heart chakra, using that impenetrable energy as a shield (just in case,) and projected my consciousness onto my roof.

Yep, sure enough, smallish shadowy beings darted around me up there, doing the energetic equivalent of sniffing me.

In that moment, I came from a place of defensive offense - if they wanted a fight, I could give them one (albeit one of the heart - a great loophole way to get things done when it comes to clearing space without tying more karmic knots around yourself and an opponent.) That said, I'd much rather parley.

The conversation we had next was not a verbal one, but rather a communication made of feelings, mental images, and impressions of somewhat nebulous ideas and intentions. This is normal when speaking to beings who aren't human.

Yes, they live here.

Yes, they were looking at me.

No, they didn't want any trouble.

In fact, although their energy was not exactly fluffy, they also weren't unfriendly. I do think that there is a potential for friendly camaraderie there.

So I left them a warm greeting and a thought of openness to a chill and mutually beneficial relationship when needed, and I descended back into my body.

There are some people who have a type of racism against certain creatures - and gargoyles fall into this category of being seen as scary and dangerous. But in my experience, the truth is a little different - these are protective beings, originally dragons in the old myths, who have been invoked for centuries to keep places and people safe. 

They don't have to be scary.

And who doesn't want a posse of badass beings who can help when needed? I'm not turning that down.

We'll see what happens....

One more thing. When searching for an image to describe what these dudes looked like, this is the most accurate one I found. (No, they weren't grimacing or snarling, the way you see many gargoyles portrayed in art...)

Happy awesomeness hunting!

(PS: I'm still working on my next book, Starseed Wilding. It'll be about fairies, DNA activation, and other generally randomly interesting stuff. Go here for more info.)

<3

Juice Feasting

Today marks Day 3 of the Juice Feast that I'm doing with Viktoriya Kosta.

On Day 1, after having just flown back to California from a couple of weeks on the East Coast of the USA, I very altruistically helped my sister to clear her fridge of her very (almost overly) ripe fruit.
Yum.
Here was what I put in my first juice. It made LOTS of juice (enough for both her and I to be quite full) and I lovingly call it "Candy Juice" because of its intense tart sweetness:

Candy Juice
2 limes (peeled)
1 apple (core juiced too)
1/4 cantaloupe
1 thumb ginger (yeah, that means that the piece is roughly thumb sized...)
4 carrots
1/2 pineapple
2 cups watermelon
1/4 cup blueberries
6 stalks celery
3 cups lettuce

The Candy Juice was very yummy, but around the end of the day, I longed for something more. That brings me to one of the major tenets of juice fasting:

Begin making your juice when you feel the FIRST, very pale stirrings of hunger! If you wait until you're in the full throes of hunger, you won't juice. Your stomach will want solid food, even though the juice would likely be more nutrient dense than whatever you'd eat.

Viktoriya tends to be more hardcore than me about things like this, but one of this fast/feast's awesome details is that we're choosing to be very non-dogmatic about it. When we want food, we just eat it. Listening to the body is the name of the game here.

So I'm eating more food, and Viktoriya is going with the mostly liquid diet.

However, when we checked in yesterday (Day 2) on Google Hangouts, she mentioned that she's been having coffee and fruit in the morning. Each to her own.

This morning (Day 3) I made a fresh, tart juice without as much fruit as my Candy Juice but still with the sweetness that oranges bring and the cool smoothness that is a characteristic of cucumber juice.

Here's the recipe:

Classic Juice (this is a combo I often use in varying proportions)
2 Carrots
4 celery stalks
thumb ginger
2 cloves garlic
1 cup fennel
2 cups greens (a kale, chard, spinach mix in this case)
2 small Persian cucumbers
1/2 cup basil

This made me about 2 glasses of juice. Perfect.

One of my favorite things about juicing is the beauty of it. These bright colors don't come with cooked, deadened food.

Lillithia likes the carrot pulp. Fine with me :)

Viktoriya and I will be continuing the juice feast for as long as we feel like it, so if you'd like to connect with us along the way, then check in on her or my facebook feeds - we're posting updates there. :)

Unblocking

Hey, I remember this place!

What is it about a coffee shop and a little jolt of caffeine that sends writer's block packing?
(And by caffeine, I mean the power of suggestion alone - I haven't had more than two sips of my latte and already I have that antsy-idea-flowing-ness that tells me that this is a state of mind, not a state of caffeine high. Give me a half hour and the latter will be true. Right now, it's just the excitement of the place that is reviving my writing efforts.)

Writer's block doesn't work for me the way it does in the movies.

With each book I birth, there is a necessary progression of events that culminate in the literary stork bringing the box of crisp, brown-paper-swaddled newborns to my front door.

First, there's the tingle in my brain that tells me some new work is coming.
Then, my guides yell at me in meditation for awhile until I actually begin writing things down.
(I kid - kind of. They just remind me. Over. And over. And OVER until I finally listen. No yelling. Generally.)

Finally, I begin to document the flashes of memory, experience, and epiphany that course through my brain by writing down a word or two in random places. Currently in my collection I have a tea-stained pink sheet of paper torn from a notebook of my sister's, along with journal pages that I have to flip through and find, along with the ever-present scribbled upon Corner Bakery receipt. That last one is from about 15 minutes ago.

So perhaps the method could use some work...

Although, in my defense, it has been super cool to unexpectedly come across messy, crumpled pieces of paper every now and then stuck in books or old jacket pockets that were the embryonic beginnings of my first and second books. Fun to see how things grow and unfold through time, attention, and energy.

The next step in my process is the one I've been spinning my wheels on for the past couple of months. This has to do with downloading all of the swirling, fluid, living chapters coursing through my consciousness into my physical brain, translating them into words, and then sending them out of my fingertips and into an electronic file. There's a lot of time and energy that goes into that step, and I am completely unable to rush the process, no matter how frustrated I get or how many reminders I get from people who are waiting for the book. (Both things happen, but I also self publish so at least the only person really breathing down my neck is my slightly OCD alter ego that comes in strongly when it's time for me to clean my house or...write something.)

Each combination of unique letters, ideas, words, paragraphs, and images that exists has its own unique energetic vibration and even life force, and these things simply will not be rushed.

When first writing Journal of a Starseed, I was given instruction through meditation on how to imbue a written work with a living/spirit technological code that has historically been embedded in the sacred texts of the world - this is why you can open the Bible, the Koran, the Bhagavad Gita, or countless others to any "random" page after asking a question mentally, and receive an answer to the question you asked.

The way you do it as a writer is to imbue the work with an intentional vibration of consciousness that not only leads it to only those who are meant to read it, but who also reads the human being in turn as the book is read, and gives back the information needed for the human reader's evolution to the highest potential degree.

I know that sounds weird.
But...
Reality is fluid.

And if you've ever read a book or seen a movie more than once, you'll easily remember that each time, different words, scenes, and emotions jumped out and affected you. This is no accident. And as a creator of such things, why not take advantage of this?

(A quick note - this can go both ways. If you sit down to receive guidance in any way and set an intention to use whatever you're looking at or listening to for divination, you'll get the information that you need. As odd as this sounds, a "game" I often play when at a crossroads is to have a glass of wine, sit down in front of a high-vibe movie that I identify with, and look for signs that will help me on my way. Always works. And that is whether or not the creators of the movie had that intention while making it...)

Anyway, when things are flowing and when the new book is ready to be born, I just sit down at my computer and it flows out of me.

My entire life I've been told I had piano hands. Yet reading music is like sending a hack saw into my brain. Disruptive and unpleasant.
So what was the deal? I had to wonder this after the zillionth "piano fingers" comment.

Not true, my main guide told me once after bringing up the piano hand thing. I have keyboard hands. The computer is my instrument.

I remember that feeling of "Oooohhh! Yeah, I get it!" that came as a result of that statement.

Life is weird. Can't make this stuff up.

Anyway, I suppose I should stop procrastinating now and go work on this:

Hopefully it'll be done in the next several weeks.
Cross your fingers for me, no matter what your instrument is. :)