What We Most Need to See

Tonight’s full moon ends a kind of karmic hell-week. Mostly internal. Hugely reflective. Life in a crucible of remembered reflections.

The oddest things have come up. Slicing shards of memory, mostly bitter, some sweet. “I wish I had done that differently. Why did that person tell me I was going around hurting other people’s feelings? What was that about?”

Life shows us. Every time. The mirror is the mirror is the mirror. We are what we see. Distortions live within us, fueled by the velcro action of our emotional realities. What lives within attracts, sticks, and holds on.

It’s all…

That Others May Not ~ A Gift of Observation

That pulls up a full load of opinion/conjecture/rightness/wrongness and a whole host of other stuff, does it not? Or did it make you curious?

I’ve been greatly curious these past weeks. This week, in particular. The passage of this week, as perceived through a Seer’s point of view… superlatives fail me. I’ve looked at the astrology, complicated as it is, and superlatives blew past me into a chaos of head-shaking incredulity.
So here it is.

This transit began with 9/11. Enough said, yes? Nine for the Goddess and 11 for the portal that precedes creation. …

has a Purpose all its own

Emily sat in meditation, feeling the starlight lift her into trans-dimensional bliss. She sighed as her heart center expanded to encompass all of her energy centers, then the whole room. It felt wonderful. Finally! A deep meditation after a few days of ‘meh.’

As the Silence deepened she began to notice a distortion in her field. Its epicenter seemed to be located around her left ear, cheekbone, and eustachian tube, with a narrowing bit trailing into her throat. Huh. That explained some of her symptoms, lately, but what was it?

Disturbed frequencies, dissonant with the ecstasy she was experiencing literally…

The Lessons of ‘Sevens’

When the world goes through a crisis of perception, cycles can help us to focus, harmonize our disparate parts, and integrate what is true. As the pieces of our personal mosaics come together, we begin to perceive the shape of what puzzles us.

Today, just for fun, I pulled a tarot card. The seven of Orbs in the Sirian Starseed deck. I groaned. This seven is about what is hidden and about lies. I asked Source what is there to see. What am I hiding from myself? As always, my questions were answered. …

And I Just got Honey on my Keyboard…the “Food of the Goddess” kind. Bother!

Time to wash my hands. Again. I did scrub before leaving the kitchen. I thought they were clean. Don’t we all like to think that way?

I’m not much susceptible to writer’s block, that oft-commented affliction of staring at a blank page/screen. It happens. Of course it does. But this is not that.

From early 2016 through the first two months of 2020, I traveled, Digital Nomad style, with a “stay-mad” twist. It was better than orange or lemon {the twist, of course}. I lived in six different countries, the Yucatan {don’t tell a local it’s Mexico}, Ireland, France, South…

Prompt: Evolution/Involution

The droplets, the currents, and the sea.

Quantum awareness is wonderful. It moves us from the processing algorithms of polarized either/or, into possibilities of becoming more.

The Droplet

In the esoteric spiritual traditions, egoic dissolution is paramount. I do not disagree. What happens, especially in the Western world, is that when the ego faces its own demise, it rebels, fights back, and generally becomes a gargantuan nuisance. This need not be. The ego is not the enemy. No more than a droplet is a problem for a wave. Is the purity of water better than the grains of sand it might contain?

Who am I now? What…

As What Was, Goes All Kinds of Ways

Sometimes a conversation with someone is not about that conversation, at all.

“We’re shifting platforms for the new company, post-diversification. I’ve spent the past week transferring all my data files from the old laptop to the new. I’ve copied everything out of existing tools, in case they disappear. I’ve copied all of our team procedures into a spreadsheet in case our online platforms go away. I’m prepared for Kablooey.”

My friend excels at this. Her “catastrophe cache” is considerable. As to her preparedness, and for what, I can only guess. This is where my cosmic sense of humor kicks in.

…

Is a Conch a mollusk? Betsy tried to blow through one when she was a little girl, trying for that hornlike ‘attention!’ sound. No matter how hard she blew, no sound came at all. She wasn’t going to let her lips blow up like the horn players in the family, so she chose to let it go. But, she stayed curious. What was it about these creatures that fascinated her so?

Their shells sported garments as different as those worn by flowers, birds, or trees. They lived most of their lives where no one would ever see.

Their twirled and…