Good Vibrations

Thoughts, prayers, email correspondence, casually spoken asides…these are all so powerful, more powerful than we realize. When I consider how I defeat my intentions through negative thinking, it gives me great pause. What am I creating? What do I wish to create?

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1

“That is why I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it and it will be yours.” Mark 11:24

Numerous videos reveal the spectacular association between sound vibrations and form. It is believed by many that thoughts create cosmic sound. In his book "Far Journeys," Robert Monroe (the man who brought astral travel into popular discussion) described a ring around the Earth he called the Mband. According to Monroe, the Mband is a noisy, discordant accumulation of sound waves that encircles our planet vibrating with all of our negative thoughts.

So what can happen when we produce loving, positive thoughts, when we lift our thoughts up to God? When I was living in California, it was a joy each Christmas to visit San Juan Capistrano and the mission there. Inside the mission, was a little side chapel. I have always been sensitive to vibrations, but on one occasion, I was so drawn to the little chapel that I felt absolutely compelled to enter, as though something was tapping me on the shoulder and beckoning me to come, acknowledge, rejoice.

Upon entering the empty chapel, the spirit of God was so thick, the prayers so heartfelt, that I immediately fell to my knees at the altar in deep adoration. I only left when it became clear that the rest of my family was growing restless, but I would have stayed there forever, if that were possible. Although I could not see them, I felt the presence of angels.

Later, I discovered that the chapel was a special place of prayer for cancer victims. I returned to the little chapel every visit to see if I could recapture the ecstasy of that experience, but rarely did I ever feel the presence of God as strongly in that tiny room, as I did that day. Someone’s loving prayers had remained behind that day and they had reverberated and touched my spirit.

Every day is a clean slate to write my life upon. So, I am thinking. About my thoughts. And it is good.

White Light of Christ Consciousness

In 1980, something happened to me that changed my life. I was living in Hawaii at the time. I had been married for eight years and I had a beautiful little boy, age three. I thought my life couldn’t get much better. I had many blessings. I was living very close to nature, digging in the dirt and creating a vibrant garden on the land that surrounded our home. And my home was located on the North Shore of Oahu, a place filled with awe-inspiring majesty and daring young people who surfed the waves.

But I was also beginning to experience some of the phenomenon that has stayed with me throughout most of my adult life. After my son was born, I became aware of my astral body for the first time. These early out of body experiences didn’t come about through meditation or active seeking. I was not practicing any kind of religion at the time. The little green surfer shack where we first lived in Sunset Beach, just steps from the beach, was “haunted.” And an annoying disembodied spirit was disturbing my sleep, taunting me and hovering too close to my newborn son who slept in a crib beside me. My maternal instincts were aroused, and so I left my body to deal with him. After we left this initial home on the point at Sunset, we moved into a new home a couple of streets away, the one where I turned a vacant yard into a colorful garden. And I had another out of body there, this time in response to an inquisitive astral who, while harmless, was nonetheless, watching my son too closely for my comfort level. As I re-entered my physical body, it raised up off the bed, like it had been touched by a small jolt of electricity. This experience opened up the door to questions about energy, substance, what we're really made of. After consulting with my mother, a medium whose abilities I had run from as a child, I was able to send these spirits away, "to Jesus."

Despite these startling experiences with the astral world, I was quite content. And, of course, no one else in the household was sharing in this phenomenon. I was quite alone in this new awareness.

And then I was greeted by the white light of Christ Consciousness, Divine Love, while washing dishes. The sink where I washed dishes in the new house was located in a sort of alcove in the kitchen. Above the sink was a large window facing the side yard. I would stand there after serving my family dinner, handwashing the dishes, looking out the window, the warm water smoothing away any rough edges of the day, lost in my thoughts, and feeling very relaxed and blessed. One evening, a white light filled the window and a telepathic voice said to me, “Know that I am here and that I love you.” It wasn't a white light that one could see with the human eye, but with what we call the third eye. And it did not alarm me or cause me to act in any way. Two more consecutive evenings, the same white light filled the window and the same message was delivered. I simply absorbed this at the time, without alarm and without discussion to those around me. And somehow, I knew. It was the omnipresent spirit of Jesus Christ. The love was nothing like the love I had felt from those around me. It transcended every human emotion.

Eventually, quite casually, I shared what had happened to me with my husband and a younger brother. I knew their thoughts…Oh, there she goes. What a vivid imagination she has. Let’s humor her. “Well, how do you know it was Jesus? How do you know it wasn’t Buddha or some other religious figure?” I knew.

I did not immediately join the nearest Christian church. I simply stored the experience away, along with all of the other mysterious events of my life up until that time, and continued on with what I thought was a relatively trouble-free existence. "Know that I am here..." he had said...

Years later, I would read in the Bible the passage where Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice and I know them, and they follow me.” How glad I was when I read this. Yes, I had recognized his spirit. And it would visit me again in California on the darkest day of my life. (See post 9/19/08)

Embrace It All

I was reminded today about the importance of being thankful. It's easy to give thanks to the Creator on good days when everything is going your way, when that big promotion comes in, or when you meet someone new who makes you laugh, or maybe you finally found something you thought was lost forever behind the sofa.

But on those days, when everything seems to go wrong, or you find out you've lost something, can you still be thankful? Remember that every day is an opportunity to grow, to learn something new about yourself, to take that next step toward becoming the loving person you always knew you could be. Even our most difficult lessons are blessings in disguise. In fact, we are here to make mistakes, to learn some new lessons. This is school. Your life is exactly as it should be.

Sometimes, our "worst enemies" are our biggest allies. Wouldn't that surprise them to know this? But it's true. These souls teach us something special about ourselves: what we value, our ability to rise to the occasion and our capacity to forgive. This is not to say that we shouldn't protect ourselves from negative energy, but it is far better to simply pray for our adversaries and move on. Bitterness corrupts the heart and stunts our growth. Remember: no one is perfect. A little self-examination usually reveals some hidden truth about ourselves where we need to improve. Before moving on, don't miss these precious nuggets of wisdom.

Today, I went down my list of people...the ones I feel have "wronged" me. I was surprised at how many were on my list. And I thanked God for every one of them. And then I said a prayer of thanks for all of my hard lessons of late. For being humbled one more time, bringing me closer and closer to the One who sees all things and knows all things and loves me unconditionally, even if it means letting me fall.

As August turns into September, I will enjoy this new harvest of experience and love to guide me as I continue on my soul's journey.

Letting Go

The hardest part about surrender is letting go. Letting go of all of your preconceived notions about how things should be, how people should behave, what everything means and where you ought to be. There came a time in my recent struggle to stay on a particular path when the inner turmoil almost drove me mad. Stubborn? Oh, my. There are times in my life when I would rather carry the weight of my own delusions, than accept the all-knowing hand of God. So about these things I know. The moment I surrendered to God was the moment I was released from my turmoil. It's amazing how that works.

And now, I am on the road to healing and self-forgiveness. Which is a different road, but similar. I still need to let go of recriminations against myself. After all, I am no better or worse than anyone else.

So the emotions are trying to come up for my cleansing and I am slowly allowing them to surface. I need a really good cry. Several, in fact. The stiff upper lip mentality driven home by my childhood often prevents these wonderful purifying moments. But they will come.

One of my favorite writers is Melody Beattie. In her book "Finding Your Way Home," she writes: "Each time I surrender it feels so painful. It feels like I've lost, like I'll never, ever have what I want, and again my world, dreams and desires are collapsing around my feet. The house of cards is tumbling down, one more time. The rage bubbles up: I can't have what I want? I had to get all excited, all passionate, all full of desire and hope just to let go and lose again? Exactly. That's the only way to win. And the singular way to be a warrior on the pathway home."

What weight are you carrying? Maybe it's time to let it go.

Doorways

I've been wrestling with a difficult career decision this week. Which road to take? One seemed to offer security and comfort, but I was over-qualified. The other seemed to offer risk and liability, but it was right in line with my original plan. I couldn't decide. So I asked for advice from my closest human advisors. Go with the flow, I was told by one. My mother, the medium, was getting all kinds of stuff, but nothing that led to a decision. So with my emotions running high, and time running out, I agonized.

And then, I decided to pray for clarity. Just that. To pray to have the clouds lifted so that I could clearly see what I was looking at. I have a prayer bowl that I write messages in. I lit my candle and incense and just sent up a simple request: "I really want to make the right move now. Help me to choose." I was hoping my guardian angels and spirit guides would come to my aid.

When I awoke this morning, I felt a sense of purpose. The clouds had lifted. I saw myself banging on a closed door that wasn't opening. The other door was standing ajar, inviting me to enter. Today, I walked through it. It's the riskier road to take, but I've been learning how to take risks. And who knows what lies behind this welcoming door? And haven't I been prepared to trust God with my life completely?

Ainslie MacLeod's book, The Instruction: Living the Life Your Soul Intended, may help you identify your soul type and mission. Appropriately, the cover has a red doorway on it, the color of prosperity. I have not read this book, so I can not recommend it, but I did see the interview last night with Ainslie on Oprah's site. I found him to be a very gentle soul.

And isn't Oprah wonderful? I think she's very brave.

Happy dreams.

Everything of Value Is Formless

OK, I will explain why there is jello in this blog post. But first...

We are fortunate this week to have a solar eclipse in Leo. It falls in my ninth house which rules worldly wisdom and universal perspective. And this is a good thing. Because my moon's south node (my karmic past) is in Leo. Which means, I have a tendency (HAD a tendency) to be rather self-centered. I will be spending a lifetime harmonizing my love of being center-stage with my desire to serve the greater good. And as my sun is in Sagittarius, this also means, that, at times, I can be a complete fool (or a calculating clown, too). All to your amusement and my undying amazement. Because these personality traits seem fixed, I will use my life lessons, my foolishness, to help others.

I married a performer in this lifetime. He had his ascendant in Leo and his moon in Scorpio. His ego needed constant stroking and he loved his intrigue. I don't wish to offend anyone who has these planetary aspects, but the man was obnoxious. He was also an excellent entertainer, very witty (Gemini sun) and I loved him dearly and stayed with him until such time as my lessons with him were finished. I was exhausted. And now, he is on the "other side." Which is a good thing for him because he needed spiritual medication. Wine, women and song. But I digress.

For some many years now, I have been reciting this mantra from Mary Baker Eddy, as it was given to me by my entertainer husband who was raised in Christian Science: "There is no life, truth, or substance in matter. All is infinite mind and infinite spirit." Whenever there is a pause in my meditative thinking, it creeps in, and I restate it with conviction. I had only an intellectual understanding of its underlying principle when I first began to embrace it, but lately, especially now with this eclipse sitting on my ninth house, and with all of my issues over the material world, I finally see for myself what it truly means. I grasp it at the heart level. Once again, as I see my storehouse being depleted, I can only acknowledge what truly matters, what sustains me and everyone else on this planet: the formless divine source. I learn my lessons the hard way, but I do learn them. God loves the fool.

The jello. My father passed away in May 2004. Dad was a Taurian, which means he was all wrapped up in 2nd house issues (the material world, values, our feelings of self-worth). One day, near the end of his life, the family was ordering pizza. Dad was lying in his hospital bed in another room of the house, going in and out of dementia, hallucinating on drugs designed to help him. There he was, a crumpled mess of Parkinson's disease, unable to release himself from a fetal position which his body had slowly, achingly, forced upon him, reminding passersby that, "of course, you'll have to come get me because I can no longer drive..." So the family is debating who has the cash to pay for the pizza, and from his weakened condition, Dad calls out with enormous strength and determination to be heard above the clatter, "If you check in my wallet, I think I've got some cash in here." That was Dad. Let me give you some money. What do you need? Will you love me, then? Will I be worthy if I can show you the money? The fact that he even heard the conversation was something of a miracle that day.

A couple of days ago, as I lay sleeping, I was awakened to someone standing beside the bed who spoke my name. I hadn't heard that voice in a long, long time. I looked up and there was my father. I hadn't seen him (to my knowledge) since his passing. I was so happy to see him. I reached over to grasp his arms, but my hands went through his body. His arms felt like pillars of jello. That's how I would describe it. I tried again and again and could not embrace him. Seeing my frustration, he seated himself at the end of the bed. And then, I woke up.

I believe he showed himself to me because he wanted to be here during my time of financial stress. To "open his wallet" to me. When he opened his wallet, it was an act of love, but it never felt that way to us. That's because, in truth, it was Dad that was seeking love. That was at the heart of the love story that was being acted out. Dad was saying, "love me, please." He was always trying to give you money, even when you didn't need any. I was able to see this truth clearly during his lifetime. And I forgave him. I knew, underneath it all, he really did love me, but he could never say "I love you" without faltering, without discomfort, and he didn't show his love in the ways that I wanted. Hugging his adult children was painful for him. I finally had to coax the words out of him during my adulthood by saying the words myself, which felt so foreign between us. And I always gave him a hug. It was the healing that I needed. And it took awhile. I remember when he finally graduated from "me, too" to a full-blown "I love you." I was very pleased and happy for both of us.

And it reminds me once again of the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. I keep it posted in my home and in my heart, and it is the bottom line for me. To quote from it: "O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be loved, as to love." I love you, Dad.

So this Earthly life is just a dream, maybe not jello, but something similar. And what holds it all together is eternal and formless. This soul journey is an opportunity--a very important one--to grow in love, to end polarity in our hearts and relinquish the grip of separation from all that unites us. God bless you all.

Symbols to Guide Us

The lotus flower is a powerful symbol. It has tremendous meaning for me because of my personal experience with it. It brought me into a new phase of soul development without my conscious knowledge of this. When I think back on how far I've come since I first saw the lotus, it astounds me.

Some time during the latter part of 2003 and into 2004, I began seeing a white lotus in my mind's eye. It would just slowly materialize out of nowhere, glowing softly, like an old projector turned on by an unknown source. Whether walking across a room or quietly relaxing in my bedroom, the white lotus would just appear. I knew it had some association with eastern traditions, but I had no intimate knowledge of its spiritual meaning or eastern traditions, in general. Being the creative individual that I am and subject to all kinds of inspiration, I assumed I was responding to some sudden awareness of its beauty. "Wouldn't it be nice to have a lotus poster for my bedroom," I kept saying to everyone around me. "Do you think I should get one?" I never bought the poster.

Of course, it had nothing to do with my creative work, although, one might argue that because I am a creative, the vision came as it did. No, I believe it heralded the arrival of Buddhism and other eastern religions into my life three years later. It announced a growing interest in meditation and the heart transformation that was to follow. A major shift in consciousness was coming. My third eye was opening. But I had no idea at the time.

Now, I show the lotus everywhere. I love this symbol and I love its message. As hard as it is to live, I am dedicated to harmonizing the spiritual with the physical in my own life. In fact, I must. I am not a practicing Buddhist. I don't practice any religion. I study them all. But as I continue to grow in spiritual awareness--my telepathic energy increasing, becoming attuned to the collective awakening--I remember how the white lotus glowed as a magnificent beacon behind my third eye, pointing the way to higher consciousness.

Embrace the symbols in your life. They have meaning and purpose. While they have no real power unto themselves, they do communicate and they do inspire.