Mojave Desert (California) by Tracy Marshall
Remind yourself if you may generate a star with no effort, you may generate paper. Elias, session 1173
Editorial The Scars of The Whale by Éric P. Lemoine & J.-B. Duret Email for inquiries and submissions email@example.com Cover artist Tracy Marshall Design and publication Éric P. Lemoine
Contributors to this issue
Susan Clemons (USA) Rick Daddario (USA) Jean-Baptiste Duret (France) Dale A. Evans (USA) Barrie Gellis (USA) Sheila Greer (USA) aKuna Kumara (USA) Kenneth McSween (USA) Tracy Marshall (Spain) Sharon Mendenhall (USA) Bill Michaels (USA) Lee Muir (New Zealand) Bill Pate (USA) Anet Paulina (USA) A. Howard Reed (USA) Thomas J. Sherlock (USA) Marcy Singer (USA) bob strating (USA) Emmy van Swaaij (Netherlands) Debi Yoachum (USA) Hayley Youngblud (Canada)
http://wisp.focusphere.net We would love to hear from you Want to react on a published article, or submit your own? Contact us at firstname.lastname@example.org No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. The views expressed by the contributors are their own and do not necessarily represent those of Wisp e-zine.
guess no one will be extremely surprised to see that a few articles in this edition of Wisp are talking about politics in a wide sense, and the US elections in particular — even readers from outside of the US, who by strange side-effects of globalization are sometimes more informed about them than the average American; nothing to be ashamed of, I remember reading stunningly accurate analysis of our own presidential elections in France last year, signed by British and American journalists,… the advantage of the vantage point precisely. I am not going to develop this point any further, only to notice that as much as it may seem “natural” to have a convergence of politicsrelated articles this month, similar convergences throughout this edition of themes of other natures may be overlooked. Usually when I see a few occurrences of the same imagery come to me in a short time (two can still be discounted as mere “coincidence”, but three starts to become hard to not notice), I stop and look at them to see what they are reﬂecting to me. Here, as I see the articles coming at me, the experience is slightly different than from the reader who is unwrapping a new edition of Wisp, that he or she takes as a whole. When you think of it, it is a mechanism we constantly activate in our day-to-day awareness: this fantastic and immaculate ability to mesh all sorts of various events, people, interactions, realities together and merge them into a ﬂawless singular perception through our identity. When we were on our spiritual journey in the USA two weeks ago (what better spiritual motive than to meet friends and enjoy their company?), we found ourselves a few times in gemstones shops. Many types of beautiful stones were on display; one could hardly imagine the set of events and the force of elements at play that
had brought all of these stones before us. And yet, it’s very similar to that mechanism that makes all the events in our lives appear continuous. However, if you give those stones a closer look, you will start to notice variations in the quality and regularity of their structures: things like inclusions (foreign elements that are trapped inside during the formation of the stone) will start to pop at you. Traditionally what is sought ﬁrst and foremost, at least for precious gems, is the clearest crystals or gems: those without any inclusions; and yet there in that store, we ﬁnd ourselves in the presence of a smoked quartz crystal presenting the most fascinating set of inclusions we had seen. It seemed to us as if a dragon head was trapped inside the crystal. The mind is a marvellous tool; it can create sensible images out of the most seemingly chaotic structures. It may be easy to discount the images, but in doing so, it would be discounting that power of the mind to create simple and fathomable symbols out of the multiple arrangements of information. What better than an image of a dragon to convey the wonderment of our own magic? Far from being ugly and undesirable, all the inclusions are valuable, and they will speak to each of you differently. However what they never fail to highlight is the fact that we are all linked together, and each of us holds a piece of the bigger picture.
Inside Editorial, by Éric P. Lemoine & J.-B. Duret (p.3) Shifting Views, Where The Wild Things Are, by Dale A. Evans (p.5-6) Libra, The Scales of Balance by Elikozoe (p.7) The Wolf, Great Spirit of The Wilderness, by Elikozoe (p.8) Lone Wolf of The Two Feathers, by A. Howard Reed (p.9-12), artwork by R. Daddario and Elikozoe The Continuum Concept (Jean Liedloff), book review by Tracy Marshall (p.13) Whisper Zone, feat. Barrie Gellis, Bill Pate, Kenneth McSween and the Snoot (p.14-15) Peeking In at My Own Political Process, by Susan Clemons (p.16) Exploring Mass Events: Chapter Two, by Thomas J. Sherlock (p.17-18) Abandoning The Victim Mentality, by Tracy Marshall (p.19) Self-Centering in Mass Events, by Sheila Greer (p.19) The Yellow Mattress, Dreams Within Dreams…, by Emmy van Swaaij (p.22) Boston’s Aquarium Critters, photography by Jean-Baptiste Duret (p.23) What is a Final Focus?, by Anet Paulina (p.24)
Jelly by Éric Lemoine
Kisses, by Debi Yoachum (p.24) The White Room, by Hayley Youngblud (p.25) A Special CMPC Annoucement, by Sharon Mendenhall (p.26-27) Here there be monsters, by bob strating (p.28) The Essence of Yum, by Marcy Singer (p.28-29)
Shifting Views by Dale A. Evans
once dreamt about a dingo. It had jumped up onto the bed I was sleeping in and cuddled down next to me; one arm cradling its neck, my other arm draped across its chest. While sleeping I was aware of its warm presence resting against me. In that space of dreaming in my dream world I began to stroke its soft muzzle. Then, as I began to move my consciousness into awaking within my dream, I felt fear begin to seep in. I began to feel that this was a wild animal, after all, and that it could turn on me in any moment.
When I was growing up I used to pet all the animals. My favorite movie was “The Three Lives of Thomasina” as I imagined myself the ‘witch’ who befriended and cared for them. I brought home strays that I was allowed to keep when we lived in the country before my parents were divorced. At one point we had lots of animals, numbering somewhere in the teens. And a pair of wild white doves, Pretty Boy and Pretty Girl, who came to eat from my and my mother’s hand each day. Dogs, cats, hamsters, guinea pigs, snakes, frogs, lightening bugs — you name it, I loved it. One day while playing my brother and I made our way into an old chicken coop at the back of our property. Sitting atop a counter was a beautiful cat. It looked regal, like the Sphinx, only with tiger-striped features. It looked me straight in the eyes and I gazed back in awe. It was so beautiful. I felt it invite me pet it, but my brother said no, we should tell mom. That was when I allowed my ﬁrst taste of fear to set in, ironically involving a chicken coop. We told mom and she said to stay away, it was probably a bobcat, wild, and could hurt us. This did not completely frighten me from animals and wild things. I still fed the doves and pet the bunnies and squirrels and talked to the deer as they wandered past me. And stray dogs were simply visitors dropping by for a chat and a lick of my Fudgesicle. But I was more careful with telling my mother. I never forgot the bobcat’s regal beauty though, and its invitation. And as I write this my own version of it meows at me from its window hammock. In my dingo dream, as I lay there stroking his soft muzzle, slowing gaining my awake in my dream consciousness, I felt these memories returning to me. I was open,
Where the Wild Things Are
allowing, fearless and as the fear crept in, I became more and more careful, cautious and ﬁnally, scared. It is then that the dingo got up onto a counter, just like that bobcat, and I was afraid to approach it. Just like I am in many relationships. Careful, it could hurt me. And I realized it was not anything that I was fearful of, it’s that I began to generate fear. It is all simply my reﬂection of me. Upon fully waking, what struck me ﬁrst was the sheer illogic of my fear. I’ve interacted with thousands of animals, and only a very few have hurt me. Yet, I seem to place more value on the few that have. Each hurtful interaction seems to negate thousands of kind ones. And the same for all my relationships. I see hundreds of people each day, and interact with innumerable things, and none of them hurt me. But the very, very few that have pick at a scab that I have not let fully heal.
Where the wild things are is inside me. For the past month or so I’ve been hearing the song “Wild Thing” on the radio fairly often. I hadn’t heard it in years and years. I’ve been exploring this belief of fear of how we may hurt ourselves — for we do create all of our reality — with a few of my clients. Our fear manifests in many different ways; in doctors that don’t help but harm, parents that don’t protect but hurt, colleagues that don’t support but compete. There are many, many ways we express these beliefs and manifest
I’ve become very aware of how the altering of my energy generates different manifestations. When I am open and allowing, I receive. And when I am scared and cautious I do not. Wisp e-zine
them into our physical realities. I even had a telephone conversation with a client last night about how he was feeling very selfprotective at this time in his life. I asked him when he had ever not felt this way, as this was the only him I knew. But I knew I was really asking myself. I’ve become very aware of how the altering of my energy generates different manifestations. When I am open and allowing, I receive. And when I am scared and cautious I do not. And it is then that I can easily confuse myself with focusing on the imagery, the manifestation, trying to change that, forgetting that I need merely alter my expression. No, it’s not as simple as changing the way that I feel by thinking differently. It’s exploring the beliefs I’m using to prevent me from being open to receive. What beliefs am I holding to as evidence and justiﬁcation? And then remembering they are only beliefs, not truths, not evidence, not justiﬁcation for my fear. And noticing how these beliefs affect my perception of my reality, how they span across my relationships with everything. I go to the kitchen to cut up an apple for my squirrel friend. As I’m slicing I’m aware of how the knife may slip and I might slice myself. How very few times I have done this within the multitude of times I have cut up things, yet I allow the fear to be my automatic primary response. This fear that I may get hurt, that I may hurt myself, I have allowed to invade almost every aspect of every relationship I have. Not just my relationships with people and animals, but with things, too! My car may break down on me; I may get ﬁred from a job; I may not get hired for this job; I may slip on the wet steps; I may not get a good seat at the movies; I may forget to tape my favorite show; I may be late to pick my son up; I may not have money for rent; all politicians are corrupt. There are inﬁnite ways I believe I can hurt myself. And I have hurt myself a lot.
I remember years back when I decided to take notice of how often I discounted myself. I won’t hear myself directly insult myself anymore, but I still do let slippery aspects of it slide by, like not thinking I’m qualiﬁed or able to do something I want to do. Last night I decided to not worry, fret, be concerned about anything for one week. I wondered what it would feel like to simply trust with
no movement towards avoidance, preparing for unpleasant consequences, or being on alert. Giving it some more thought, a week sounded like a very long time. How about I start with just a day? Just 24 hours of trusting myself and not worrying about anything, letting everything roll off and trusting it would turn out just ﬁne without my involvement through defensive tactics. OK, so how about I take this 24 hour period hour by hour? Those seem like palatable bites. I can certainly be trusting and not needing to be on the defensive for an hour! So far I’ve noticed that I’m worried, fretting, concerned, feeling attacked, needing to be defensive 4 - 5 times an hour. And it’s only been 12 hours. And I spent 5 ∞ of them sleeping. And those are only the ones I’ve noticed. Many times I didn’t even notice I was worrying until 2 - 3 minutes into it. And there were times I didn’t even notice it was worrying, I thought I was just thinking. For instance, I began planning tonight’s dinner. Grilled shrimp sounded good. Could be expensive. Could be extravagant. Gotta get my propane tank ﬁlled. Damn, I hate replacing it, always scared I won’t do it right and will blow myself up. But Spencer’s supposed to play with a friend. I wonder what time? Should I make an early dinner or wait and make a late dinner? I don’t want to rush through such a nice dinner. Maybe I should cook up those sausages instead. What could I make with them?
All of my thoughts were based on other things either directly dictating what I should/ shouldn’t do, or heavily inﬂuenced by them. The only original thought, meaning originating from my desires, was my desire for grilled shrimp. Everything else were obstacles I created, to later avert. I could call it forethought, but it’s really concerns and worries. I’d already created a possible horrible dinner experience before I even noticed this one. These are representative of all the energy I project towards averting what I don’t want. Representative of all the energy I project into what I don’t want, so that I can continue averting it. It’s my choosing to perpetuate what I do not want. Reminds me of that old joke. “Doctor, it hurts when I do this.” “Then don’t do it.” I’m noticing just how often I do it again and again and again... I’m like the Energizer Worry Bunny.
That was an excerpt from my journal. It’s still a very ﬁne idea. I think I’ll start again now. Yes, these beliefs span across my relationships with everything, but I am not limited or conﬁned by them unless I am choosing. So as I begin to notice when I am choosing them, I can also allow myself to choose not choose them. And as I begin to notice them, I shall not be discouraged by their seemingly overcoming presence. I am choosing to notice them so I will notice them even more, not less. And I will not use this noticing more to overwhelm me. I shall see them as gifts to myself, offering me the “how” of how I create my reality when I am automatically responding. And then I shall offer myself the gift of my freedom of choice. Not one hour at a time, but in each now.
photography Tracy Marshall
And I do not want to leave this without acknowledging that how I have created, and what I have created, and what I do create, is beneﬁcial to me. By creating these expressions of my fears, I have noticed how the belief system of relationships is not limited to people and what we designate as living things. I perceive everything I am interactive with through it. I noticed my relationship beliefs through interacting with a knife.
An excerpt from Elias Session 1114:
ELIAS: How may you generate what you want if you are not paying attention to the now and you are not allowing yourself permission to create that now? You shall wait and wait and wait and wait, for what you create in the now is what creates the future. The future is an illusion. There is no future. What is, is now. If your concentration moves to waiting, you shall continue to generate waiting. Each day that you continue to express to yourself that you are not good enough YET, you continue to reinforce this discounting of yourself and you do not generate what you want. This is the significance of paying attention to you, familiarizing yourself with you, knowing what beliefs are influencing of your perception - which creates your actual reality and paying attention to the now, being aware of what you are generating, expressing and creating NOW in each moment. I am aware that this appears to all of you to be insignificant. “What am I generating now, in this moment? It matters not. I am doing nothing.” Incorrect, you ARE choosing. Dale A Evans is a Personal Reality Coach and Energy Worker at It All Begins Now.com.
The Scales of Balance (September 23rd — October 23rd) epresented by the only inanimate figure of the Zodiac, the constellation of Libra (from Latin balance) is a rather discrete one. Without stars of major magnitude, it was the last to appear on the Zodiac. In fact, in Antiquity it probably had been a part of the claws of the Scorpion’s constellation which is lying next to it, as the latin name of its main stars hints at. Symbolically, the fact that it doesn’t seem to stand on its own (either linked to the scales of Virgo, or the claws of Scorpius) echoes the deep communicative, social nature traditionally associated to individuals born under this sign. In the Northern hemisphere, the period of the year of Libra is seen as the pinnacle of the year, the beginning of autumn were all the work of the Earth is harvested. In 2004 the first Earth-like planet lying within the human-habitable part of its sun’s orbit was found in the Libra constellation.
The Wolf, Great Spirit of the Wilderness
o animal other than the wolf has fed so many myths and stories in all the various world cultures. As much as it was feared and misunderstood in our Western ones, the wolf was on the other hand greatly revered in the native cultures of the American continent. A ﬁerce hunter with a deep caring for his pack, the wolf is not primarily seen as a predator by Native American cultures, but rather as a model. In fact, in certain myths, the wolves are sent to men to help them keep the game they hunt healthy. Thus they are not seen as an opposite force but rather as a parallel one, reﬂecting man’s own.
(credits Wikipedia, photo Retron)
The tribes of British Columbia (among which the NuuChah-Nulth), celebrated Klukwana, Shamans’ or Wolf Dance as the ceremony of the entrance into winter. Before the full moon of the solstice, it opened the sacred season of winter, and allowed the initiates to communicate with spirits. In another nearby tribe, the Kwakiutl, the wolf had an important role in the myth of creation. One of their myths says that Wolf survived the great ﬂood by climbing to the top of a huge mountain. The wolves were said to have then changed into men, becoming the ancestors of the ﬁrst people —thus explaining the use of wolf-masks in their rituals.
http://www.wolfsongalaska.org http://www.nuuchahnulth.org http://www.umista.org http://www.shoshoneindian.com
In a story retold by anthropologist Cottie Burland, after creating the Earth with Lucky-Man, Wolf decides to populate the Earth from the most simple creatures to the more complex ones. He teaches two spiders how to reproduce and the eight-legged spider ﬁnally propagate in creating the eight, six, four and two legged creatures.
In a myth of the Shoshone, Coyote, trying to put Wolf in a grim light in the people’s eyes, argues with Wolf that people can’t be allowed to revive when they are dead, as there soon wouldn’t be any place left on Earth. However, the trickster Coyote ﬁnds his trick had a bitter price when his son is the ﬁrst to die and Wolf reminds him of his own advice. So awe-inspiring is the wolf that even when associated with death it was still greatly respected for its wisdom and strength.
illustration R. Daddario
In the Arikara tribes (in Dakota), Wolf is one of the very ﬁrst spirits in their creation myths.
As well, the Shoshone American Indians (in California, Idaho, Utah etc.) saw in Wolf a creator God.
It would be vain to pretend to cover in a single page the meaning and symbolism of the wolf in the rich traditions of Native American cultures, but let us pretend for a moment, and allow ourselves to be guided by the wolf in some fascinating stories.
by A. Howard Reed
Lone Wolf of the Two Feathers
It was May 21, 1990, several days before my fiftieth birthday. A friend, a recognized Medicine Woman in this area, took me to Bell Rock in the Verde Valley east of Sedona where she said she had a present for me. She didn’t give me any indication of what she was up to. We hiked some distant from the westerly base of Bell Rock and reached the top of a small hillock. Bell Rock was to the east, Courthouse to the northeast and Cathedral to the south behind us. She found a place where the center spire of Cathedral could be seen and spread out a blanket. She called my attention to the middle spire and asked me to sit down. As I did, I turned around and saw, there in the gap between Courthouse and the canyon cliff wall, two huge standing pinnacle-like slabs of rock. They were a
her song about Tonka Sheila and Vera Mi, the one she found many years before when she was searching for her connection to the ways and mother earth.
majestic pair of rabbit ears, thrusting nearly two hundred feet into the air. I was immediately overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu and became very excited. She said something and I said something and she smiled. She took out her pipe and cedar and smudged us off. She sang some songs and I hummed along. I didn’t know the words or the language. It was
here was a village here. They lived in the hollow between Bell Rock and this place.
The villagers were little people and seemed to have lived there for a long time. One day a group of taller, bigger people came by. They came through the area every year and weren’t very friendly. They seemed afraid and didn’t stay long. After they left, a woman discovered a baby in the weeds. The baby was a boy and was severely deformed. He had a club foot and his spine had a strange twist to it. There was a debate about leaving the child and letting it die. The woman, who was childless, said that she would care for it. Her husband was recently dead, perhaps killed in an accident or mauled by an animal, but not at war. The grandmothers and grandfathers decided that the boy would be an orphan like any other orphan of their village and she would be his closest relation. And so the villagers accepted the boy as one of their own and they raised him. As he grew, his deformity became more obvious. His back was terribly bent, like a “Z”, and a hump thrust out between his shoulder blades. His foot was turned so badly he nearly walked on his ankle as he hobbled about on a stick-like crutch. In spite of his crookedness, he was a pleasant child, but he couldn’t play with the other children and do the things they did. Also, they didn’t want to play with him because he was always getting hurt or couldn’t keep up with them. He spent a lot of time alone and the women and the old people who didn’t mind his presence. He was very good at helping the women with their cooking and camp site chores. But he looked forward to the night, when he could sit by the ﬁre and hear the stories of the people and look at the stars. It was his secret dream to touch the stars.
She sang so sweetly I became lost within it. After she was finished and we had smoked the pipe, establishing her intent to lead me to a time in my history of my choice, I was asked to lie back and get comfortable. When I was comfortable she asked me what I was thinking. I said that the two rocks, the rabbit ears, and this place were very connected to me. She said, “Go there and tell me what you see.” I do not know exactly what I said because everything was moving so fast, but this is what I remember, recombined from a children’s story I wrote the next day.
And then it came time for him to go out into the wilderness and get his name and receive a vision for his life’s work. It was autumn. The adults had gathered and discussed their concerns for the boy. They said he could not really belong to their village if he could not do this simple thing. He would bring nothing to share at the ﬁresides. He would have no wisdom to impart. Mostly they did not think that he could survive the ordeal because it was their custom that the seeker would stay away until they had a vision. This meant fasting until hunger overwhelmed the seekers and forced them to ﬁnd their own food and water to replenish themselves and then start all over again. Many seekers never returned. The elders knew that he would not survive if he hurt himself or failed to have a vision within a week. He was a terrible hunter and a barely adequate trapper. The place he chose was a hill nearby with a ﬂat place on top with several levels of edges and natural passageways with rain washed steps leading to the top. The boy could see the place from the village and to him it was far away. He had never been there. Unlike the other children who spent a year or more looking for likely places to have their visions, he had never been anywhere but the furthest hut of the village and the well where they got their water. The elders asked if he had found his special place. He said that he had and assured them that he was determined to do this thing. “You will see me again soon, or not at all,” he said. He said that if he could not fulﬁll this quest then he would join his ancestors because he did not want to be a burden on the village or an exception to their customs. “I want to be a real person with a name and a purpose,” he said. “I do not want to be a child any longer. It is time for me join the young men, if they will have me.” And so the boy was reminded of what to do in the event of an emergency like a snake bite or a scorpion sting and what was expected of him. The next morning the villagers gathered to send him off. He left the village heading away from his selected site and when he could no longer see the huts and was certain that no one had followed him
Wisp e-zine zine
depression he prepared it with sticks and brush to pad the rough edges and thought about building a shelter over it. He decided not to because he wanted to see the stars. Nearby was a cedar bush that he could sit under until the night came.
Three days and nights passed without a vision. No inner prompting came to him. His stomach grumbled and he felt faint. He pulled out one of two pieces of dried deer meat that he had stashed in his sack, but could not eat it. He was determined not give in so early in his vigil.
He breached the brim and collapsed on the ground. He was exhausted. His foot was bleeding and his entire body ached like it had never ached before. If he didn’t know before he knew then that he could never be a warrior or a man like the other boys would be. And he wept at the futility of it all. What he had spent a day and most of the night to accomplish, a child half his age could do twenty or thirty times. He also knew that if he was not successful in his quest he would be treated like a stranger and in time, ignored to death. He saw his life ﬂash before him like a brief beam of light that breaks through the clouds and then is gone. Still weeping with self pity, he crawled to the middle of the mesa and collapsed. He could go no further. He rolled over on his back and pulled his satchel under his neck to keep pressure off his spine and watched the stars through tear ﬁlled eyes. He reached up to them wanting to touch them and join them. He cried himself to sleep and dreamt of leaving his crooked body and joining the stars. The morning came. The village beneath his overlook became awake and he could smell the ﬁres and the odors from the cooking pots and hear the noises of morning chores. He looked about and saw that some coyotes and other animals had been with him and he became afraid. Some of the animals had come very close. That day he searched for a place that would ﬁt his back and when he found a suitable
He would have called in the spirit animals that he heard the other children had evoked to watch over them when they were threatened. But he didn’t know who his animals were. Mouse, squirrel? Lizard, snake? Eagle, owl? The only humped-back animals he knew was the buffalo and the buzzard. One lived on the high plateau where he had never been and the other ﬂoated on the wind waiting for creatures to die. He wished he knew his animals like the other children did. Not knowing what else to do he asked buffalo and buzzard to stand by him. He would live or die.
Its slobber dripped on his face. The boy, weak from hunger and thirst, and unable to move quickly because of his crippled-ness knew that he would be the wolf’s next meal. It was not a matter of “if” but “when.” Lying there as he was, feeling the wolf nudge him, the boy closed his eyes and accepted his death. He would not touch the stars, but that was okay. He was at peace with his fear and accepted his eventual death. He felt like two people; one that was alive, laying on the ground being measured by a wolf and the other like a spirit hovering several feet in the air watching himself and the wolf. He must have fallen asleep or passed out because something startled him back to his bed and the hillock over-looking the village. It was mid day and the sun was directly overhead. He was thirsty and perspiring as if stricken with a fever. He had to ﬁnd shade. “If I don’t see my enemies they cannot harm me,” he thought deliriously. He opened his eyes and looked around. The wolf was gone and in the sky the buzzards were circling. He began to crawl to the cedar bush and saw the wolf rise up from beneath the shelter and snarl. The boy stopped and
Soon there came by several coyotes. One came close enough to steal the piece of meat that he had left out and ate it just inches from his face. It looked up and saw a larger animal looking at him. The coyote yipped in fright and ran away. The boy sat up and there, not more than ten paces away was a wolf! A big wolf. He bit a scream and slowly lay back on his bed and shivered in fright, waiting for the wolf to devour him. He waited until dawn frozen in fright and nothing happened. He did not notice that no other animal bothered him for the rest of the night. As dawn broke, he slowly propped himself on his elbows and cautiously looked for the wolf. He heard a noise and turned to see the wolf come over the rise, seemingly out of the dawn’s sun. Behind it were the spires of two long slim rocks towering high above the valley ﬂoor looking like two feathers pointed skyward. They appeared to poke out of the
he turned back toward the hill. By the end of the day he had reached the hill. Nightfall came quickly and he had to wait for the full moon to rise before continuing the climb. It was midnight before he reached the top.
That night as he lay on his bed watching the stars and moon journey across the sky and his nose being assailed with by the smell of the evening meal from the smoldering camp ﬁres of the village in the dale below, he felt the presence of many animals pressing in on him and he became more afraid. They were bolder than the night before. They seemed to walk over him.
wolf’s head, like a headdress. “Two Feathers” came to the boys mind. But that was not right. The animal was now close enough for him to see its eyes. They were yellow and huge and it had teeth that gleamed wetly. The wolf circled and sniffed him. The boy fell back on his bed of twigs and watched the huge head hover over him. The wolf licked his bloodied foot and nudged his hip.
then remembered the last piece of meat in his knapsack. He ﬁshed it out and tossed it to the wolf saying, “Wolf, if you are hungry you may have my meat. If you are still hungry you can eat me. I will not return to the village until I touch the stars and learn my name. That is why I am here.” Frightened and trembling with nothing left to sustain him, even though the friendly ﬁres and food of his home was a sling’s shot distant away, he backed off and waited his fate. The wolf then did a surprising thing. It rose slowly to its magniﬁcent stature and sniffed the meat and then went to the boy. The wolf seemed to smile, its breath was hot against the boys face and it licked him and then walked away. The boy was faint with fright and laid down and the day passed without him moving. That evening the boy awoke with fresh saliva dripping on his face and two yellow eyes staring at him just inches away. He gathered all of his strength and crawled back to his bed. The wolf watched as the boy settled into his bed and the boy felt a calm overcome him. He was no longer afraid of dying. He looked at the sky and became lost in the color of the sunset seeming to cover him like a blanket. Soon the moon started to raise, and its light made the two feather rocks in the east shimmer in its light. “She-naw-eeka” burst into his mind. But it wasn’t a word of the people of the village. They would not know it and he could not say it until he knew the meaning. “I have a name!” he cried out loud. But I cannot utter it he thought. “I have a name,” he yelled again. The wolf was nearby and was startled by his outburst and backed away with
a gruff woof and a snort. The boy did not care. He was ﬂush with the excitement of awareness and all that night as he thought and pondered the meaning of word which had to be his name and never thought about the wolf again. The name was given and it was private but without a meaning, and he could not honor the custom that he share it with the people at the next full moon celebration. As he lay on his back and watched the stars and the moon move in slow motion across the sky, his attention turned to the moon. The rabbit in the moon stared back at him, its ears upright, directed toward him as if listening to his thoughts. He laughed. He had a glimpse of the meaning of the word and was determined to wait for another sign to afﬁrm his decision. And the days and the nights blurred together as he waited for the conﬁrmation of his insight. He was now totally dehydrated and could only move if he forced himself. The ground was no longer hard, but soft as a fur pallet, his foot was no longer a part of his body but a stone lashed to his ankle. He felt no pain and was oblivious to the sun that was cracking his lips and blistering the inside of his nose. Only on occasion during the day did he open his eyes to watch the buzzards ﬂy lazy circles above him. For three days and nights he lay on the ground waiting for the conﬁrmation. On the morning of the seventh day the wolf, who had been with him for the entire time, was returning from an early morning hunt followed by its mate and two pups. The animal came to the boy and dropped a rabbit beside him. The rabbit’s ears were tall and erect, dusty white and red, the same color of the twin spires that raised up out of the valley behind him. The wolf licked his face, its slobber revived him. “What do you want with me?” croaked the boy. He struggled to his elbows and saw the rabbit. “A rabbit. Is this mine?” The wolf turned to look at his mate and the two pups behind him. “Yes,” the boy chuckled when he saw what the wolf was looking at; “You have brought your family. I am sorry I am such a puny boy. They deserve a buffalo.” He fell back on the ground and began to dream deliriously. The boy tossed and turned, fretted and moaned. The dream made no sense. The images tumbled and turned. Of those he could grasp, he saw himself running with, and then riding a wolf. Then he ﬂew to the moon and played with the rabbit. A crooked stick wrapwoven with deer-hide strips dyed with four colors, blue, yellow, red and green, spun like a disoriented hummingbird about him. The twin spires vibrated whenever someone looked
at them and small rocks fell off and glowed burning all about their bases. The people of the village walked about with blank eyes while the sun buzzed like an angry hornet and hurt his ears. And then night and calmness. Yellowwhite dots dashed about the ground, looking for something they could not ﬁnd. And then stillness and blackness underlaid by a barely audible harmonic that held steady as if to wait for the leader of the song to introduce the next chord. He awoke with a start. The rabbit. The ears. The moon. The wolf. The spinning stick. The two tall rocks in the east. “I have a sign. I have many signs. I have many meanings and although I do not know what they mean, I am certain that my quest is complete.” He struggled to his numb feet while asking himself, “Maybe I should stay longer to make sense of these signs?” “No,” he answered himself ﬁrmly, like the only child that he was, accustomed to hearing his own voice speaking boldly, “I have a lifetime to make sense of them. I know I cannot stay here.” He picked up his walking stick and the rabbit, leaving his satchel behind, and hobbled to the trail head. The wolf rose up from under the bush and trotted to his side and pressed against him when he began to wobble. The boy stopped and pushed at the wolf. The wolf backed off and sat on its haunches looking at him. “Thank you, wolf,” the boy said, “We shall see each other again.” The wolf blinked and returned to his family under the bush as if to say, “Now you are on your own.” For the next several hours he slipped and slid down the hillside. Along the way he lost his walking stick, but picked up another near the bottom. It was as crooked as his back but would sufﬁce until he found another one. It was sundown when he limped into the village, weak from the sun’s exposure and lack of food and water. Someone noticed him and shouted a greeting. His aunt rushed out to welcome him. Several boys came to him and helped him to the hut of the elders, asking questions and chattering so much they made him dizzy. But he refused to answer them. He entered the hut and found several old men and a woman inside. They had been maintaining a vigil for him. He told them his story and they did not believe him. He showed them the rabbit. They examined it carefully and decided that indeed a large animal had mauled it. But they needed more proof. They sent some
« Lone Wolf of the Two Feathers, continued from page 10-11
warriors to the place and found many signs of the wolf and the boys little bed in the rock. They returned with his walking stick and bundle and related what they saw. That evening the rabbit was prepared and all of the people were given a portion. The boy was given the two ears and the boy was asked to tell his story. He said he would wait until the next full moon so that he could show the people what had happened. The day came and the boy’s foot was nearly healed and he felt much rejuvenated. The elders made a great fuss over the ﬁre preparation and after the evening meal and it was time for his telling, they called everyone to the ﬁreside. All of the people took their places and waited for him to be called forward. “Come. Boy. Here, sit with us and tell us your story and what you learned and how we shall call you.” The boy hobbled into view on his stick and sat with a bump on the ground beside the most elder. “Tell us boy, what you did on the table rock and what you saw.”
Lone Wolf of The Two Feathers, illustration R. Daddario
And so the boy related his story. The coyote that stole his food. The wolf that refused it. The death that never came. The word that popped into his head and the rabbit in the moon. He related everything he could remember and after he was through, the ﬁre was low and the elders asked him if he knew who the wolf was. The boy said no. “The wolf was yourself. He was standing by to devour you with your desire to touch the stars and be someone you are not. The small deceit of meat exposed that you wanted security and food for tomorrow, yet the wolf fed you and all of the people when you decided that he could chose between you or the small scrap of meat. “The wolf brought you ears to hear. Like the twin feathers yonder who always tell us when a stranger approaches. You were shown that your heart will always make the right decision as long as the wolf is in front of you, a vanguard searching for the right and safe path for you to follow. We know your name and one day it will be known throughout the land. But for now you must work with your new knowledge and in time it will be called wisdom, and you will be counselor and be a fair judge for all of the people. And the wolf shall be your protector, not your destroyer.” And the people murmured with pride because amongst them lived She-naw-eeka, to be known as Lone Wolf of the Two Feathers, lawgiver and fair judge for all. Guise of a Thunderbird, by Elikozoe
The Continuum Concept by Jean Liedloff Book Review by Tracy Marshall
he Continuum Concept was one of those books that found me, rather than the other way round. I wasn’t out shopping for books, I was waiting for a friend to choose a greeting card in a shop that sold second-hand books. One of them caught my eye because the cover blurb said “Jean Liedloff spent two and a half years deep in the South American jungle living with Stone Age Indians”. I’ve had a lifelong interest in other cultures, so I bought the book. When I got the book home and read the cover information more thoroughly, I realized I’d bought a book that was primarily about raising children — what a disappointment! I had no small children, didn’t have any friends with any, and furthermore, I wasn’t interested in the subject — or so I thought. By the time I’d ﬁnished the book, I was — almost — wanting to have children just to put some of these theories into practice. I was intrigued right from the start. Far from being ‘stone age’, these people turned out to be among the most ‘forward thinking’ on the planet today. Apart from the (rather obvious if you think about it) points about babies being happier after birth if they have constant physical human contact, what really captured my interest was the way in which they trust their babies and children not to harm themselves. They allow babies to crawl around the clifftops of their jungle home, and guess what: they don’t crawl right over the edge. They pick up knives, and they don’t get hurt. Because the children are not bombarded with suggestions “Don’t do that, you might fall off!” “Be careful, you’ll cut yourself!”, their innate common sense and intuition is unhampered. They don’t respond to the suggestion “You will hurt yourself” if no-one is suggesting to them that they will.
A year or so after reading The Continuum Concept, I found the Elias transcripts online. Something about an ‘already shifted’ tribe1 in South America caught my eye, and I wondered if it was the Yequana in Jean Liedloff’s book. Subsequently Elias conﬁrmed that it was indeed the same tribe. And not only that, many of our online meditation group have concurrent focuses (or other current reincarnational lives) there, including me. When a book jumps off the shelf at you, there’s always a reason.
Endnotes: 1 Elias: “They are practicing in reality many of the elements of this shift in consciousness, in their abilities and allowing themselves enough of their own widening of awareness to be allowing themselves to move in and out of experiences that are held to be in conjunction with this shift in consciousness. Those experiences that you individuals presently move in the direction of exploration with, they are already experiencing as common ground of their everyday existence, although they have not entirely moved into the fullness of acceptance of belief systems within your linear time period yet. In this, I shall express to you that they ARE moving quite close to this expression of the acceptance of belief systems, and as you en masse move more into the action of this shift in consciousness, this also lends energy to that expression of their acceptance of belief systems, which also lends energy to YOUR acceptance of YOUR belief systems.”
Another fascinating concept is that these people never request another individual to do anything. If they want something that they are unable to do for themselves, they simply state their wish. Someone will feel like doing it and will respond. Amazingly, it works! One may assume then that nobody does anything with a sense of begrudging duty, or obligation, and that everyone does what they want. It would appear to work out perfectly.
Other references http://www.continuum-concept.org/ A website created by members of the Liedloff Continuum Network (LCN) to educate and serve anyone who cares about the well-being of infants and children by advocating the principles described in The Continuum Concept and suggesting practical ways to integrate them into daily life. [They] also hope to serve those who are recovering from the adverse effects of a modern, “non-continuum” upbringing, and who may or may not be parents themselves.
I SMELL FROM ANIMALISTIC BROTHERHOOD
I smell an animalistic me spawned from centuries of birth and rebirth sitting bare on earth’s crust beside ritual fires. I smell animalistic history diving thru oceans of my veins, swimming among panting tribes glistening with sweat, knowledgeable of the sun, and know well the gray-cloud genius of nature that bathes creatures with moisture from the groin of the sky. I smell from animalistic brotherhood sharing jungle paths with beasts muddied from long journeys and frenzied sex. Sisters and brothers of the forest huddled at the poles, squatting by the equator, I stretch out my mind to touch you and to be touched. Feel me in your nighttime wanderings and see my reflection on the leaves and I shall be fulfilled. Barrie Gellis
Kokopelli by Jean-Baptiste Duret
Barrie says: “1950 saw me born in Manhattan; and I died somewhere in 2058…or perhaps not. One of my most profound experiences was to attend Jane Roberts’ original Seth classes in Elmira, NY (19721973). Less profound scenarios are found in a partial listing of my past employment—not included here. Currently, I teach HS English. Additionally, I have traveled cross-country in the summers of 1968 and 1969, during which time I met my first wife. My second marriage is on its 23rd year as I write these notes. In November 1996, my son, Dande, 25, was “killed” in a hit-and-run accident in Buffalo, N.Y. I put “killed” in quotes because “killed” implies a finality of death that may not exist. Besides what you can extract from the above, other influences include, but are not limited to: Walt Whitman; William Wordsworth; Henry Miller; Socrates; Bob Dylan; Arthur Rimbaud; Lenny Bruce; The Beats; Carl Jung; Joseph Campbell; Marilyn Monroe; John Donne; ee cummings; and the New York Yankees. Each discovered at the precise right moment to make them all major influences.” Barrie has published Outside Is a Secret Key (ISBN: 1-60047-044-0), an anthology of some of his poems, which can be ordered at Amazon or directly through the author who welcomes feedback at email@example.com.
Whisper Zone MASTER: AAHH, Grasshopper, ancient proverb says: “Give a man a ﬁsh and you’ll feed him for a day. Teach a man to ﬁsh and you’ll feed him for a lifetime. Teach a man INTUITION and the motherfu**er won’t need to go ﬁshin’!” CAINE: HAHA! Master, theoretically, subjectively, yes, BUT, what if upon my humble journey I encounter a naysayer who insists that “teaching” intuition would be a contradiction in terms?
Life isn’t about how to survive the orm, but how to dance in the rain. Bill Pate
MASTER: Well, ﬁrst, rip out his… CAINE: Master? But I… MASTER: I’m just KIDDING Grasshopper, JEEZ! CAINE: Had me going there, Master! MASTER: Don’t sweat the controvert, he’s havin’ fun. Tell him this: “A great teacher does not change minds, his students will choose that for themselves.” CAINE: Wow! Master, that’s DEEP… Ancient Proverb? MASTER: Fortune Cookie!… Which reminds me, I’m starved. Treat your Master to dinner? CAINE: Sure, why not. But I’m getting burnt out on Chinese. MASTER: Let’s do Japanese then. I know a great place for Fugu, the chef’s unlicensed but the price is unbeatable! CAINE: Sure its safe? MASTER: If I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’… Master Ken-Oba
You can make a rope from hemp to hang a man for smoking it but hanging a man is not an inherent quality of the plant The Snoot
Wisp Wispe-zine e-zine
Peeking In at My Own Political Process noticing values and allowing a shift in perspective
by Susan Clemons
’ve been thinking quite a bit about the discussions continually being sparked and swirling around the subject of politics and the election and what it all means to me. Really looking at the process and noticing my own thoughts and reactions showed me that I felt something of a conﬂict going on inside of me. I realized it was a conﬂict that has been brewing for some time and I have ﬁnally been able to really look at it and ﬁnd some clarity on what it represents to me in a way that has resolved at least some of the conﬂict and helped me to ﬁnd my own form of integration. At the beginning of the season when it looked like it was going to be Hillary against McCain I felt very little interest in the process. It just seemed like politics as usual with very little change. Yes, it would be nice to have a woman as president but I had my reservations about Hillary. There was something about her that just didn’t sit right with me. She seemed to be too much of a feminine version of the old white men that had been running things for much too long. I didn’t want that to be my symbol of the feminine. Then Obama came on the scene. Someone completely unknown rising out of obscurity with meteoric speed. I felt both shocked and excited when I started reading about him and his life story. I was immediately drawn to him and felt that here at last was someone who represented my own values. Here at last was someone talking about the kind of changes I really wanted to see in the world. And, best of all, it looked like he was easily going to sweep the election. How wonderful. I was ﬁnally giving myself some objective symbols that said I was learning to consciously create what I wanted more quickly and easily. And then Sarah Palin came rocketing onto the scene and landed slap dab in the middle of things upsetting my apple cart and spoiling the whole lot. Watching her acceptance speech was when I ﬁrst noticed the conﬂict. I felt strangely attracted to her and at the same time repulsed by everything she seemed to represent. I couldn’t help but admire her story the same way I couldn’t help but admire McCain’s story of survival. I felt tremendous admiration for both of them. And so I noticed a different and conﬂicting set of values beginning to emerge. And what was going on with Obama? His whole campaign seemed to ﬁzzle and become drab in comparison. His silence seemed like one of the loudest things I had ever heard. That’s when my own conﬂict became really noticeable. And it’s when I realized I had to look inside and see what was really going on with me. What was all of this bringing out? So I sat down and really looked at the symbols I was showing myself.
I have begun to realize that all four of the candidates in this election represent something I (and possibly most of us) want for myself.
First I have begun to realize that all four of the candidates in this election represent something I (and possibly most of us) want for myself. They represent people who have started out with huge limitations and have managed to go beyond those limitations and give themselves comparatively unlimited freedom. McCain had probably the most limitations in the form of all the struggle and pain of going through the Vietnam war and being in captivity and not only surviving but going on to thrive and reach for the stars. He’s the perfect example of the old masculine way of doing things. But boy has he become rigid and conﬁned as a result both physically and mentally. Palin and Hillary represent the beginnings of the feminist movement of women reaching equality with men. Palin in particular has not allowed the limitations of religion, sex, education, experience, or background to get in the way of her dreams. She set her sites on the top and went for it and it looks like the stars are getting closer. She and Hillary represent my ﬁrst ideas of feminine strength and equality. But… boxers and pit bulls… is that really the image I want? Biden seemed to have it all to begin with. And then he lost what was most important to him right in the middle of it. He lost his family to a tragic accident. So he became the new image of masculinity and put family ﬁrst and still managed to reach for the stars. Finally, there’s Obama. A racially mixed child raised by a single mother with an absentee father who didn’t seem to give a damn. But he was raised by a mother with the kind of values I admire most. A mother who believed in social integration and social equality as well as a desire to explore the exotic and unknown. To stretch herself to the limits and experience as much of the world as she could. A vision of feminine strength and equality that seemed to go beyond Palin and Hillary. And she passed those values on to her son. And so there is Obama a mixture of black and white, the exotic and the familiar, masculine and feminine. A living example of integration and tolerance. I think it’s pretty incredible that at this point in the process all of the candidates are claiming to be for change. But McCain and Palin exemplify the old ways of creating change through struggle and hardship and aggressive attacks while keeping a top down hierarchy in place and forcing our policies on the rest of the world. Obama and Biden represent the new way of politics that embrace the integration of the old and new, based on reaching out in cooperative friendship to build community as the ﬁrst step, and based on a grass roots movement to get everyday people involved in the social process of their own government again so that it works from the bottom up. That’s a goal that empowers people and encourages them to be involved in creating the policies that are the guidelines for our social environment. I realize I admire every single one of the candidates in this race. Every single one of them have done some incredible things and have given themselves the kind of freedom I want for myself. But McCain and Palin represent the old ways. I can honor and respect those old ways while knowing that I want to move out of them and to embrace the new ways. So I’m noticing my values have changed and I’m allowing a shift in perspective that’s taking me to a whole new level within myself. It feels like a new level of freedom. Viva la shift!
Exploring Mass Events: Chapter Two by Thomas J. Sherlock
n Chapter Two of Mass Events, or INME, Seth discusses how the lack of trust is conveyed through mass communications resulting in a mass meditation that further ampliﬁes the idea of an unhealthy, powerless people. He alerts us however to our inherent power as expressed through our ability to reconﬁgure our memory and time. As implied in the abbreviation of The Individual and the Nature of Mass Events (INME), discussion on mass events starts with the individual. It starts in you, it starts INME1. And within me, within you, within the individual lies an inner sense to trust or mistrust. Accustomed to focusing primarily on the projections of our inner experience, we have learned to mistrust the inner experience itself and have likewise projected mistrust upon the external, objective, physical world. The individual does not trust the good intent of his own body (p.39), his fellow man (p. 40) nor nature (p. 56). This mistrust is manifested in multiple ways in individual and mass dramas. In the United States, “tax dollars go for many medical experiments and preventative-medicine drives” (p. 76) We no longer trust our food supply: “More foods… are being added to the list of disease causing elements [,yet] generations before [we] managed to subsist on many such foods, and they were in fact promoted as additive to health” (p. 35). The U.S. military budget has ballooned over the decades in order to prevent war (p. 76), with a U.S. military presence in about 130 countries for as along as 60 years. There is an “anticipation of disaster” (p. 76) which has feed into the current Bush Doctrine of pre-emptive strikes against other countries perceived as threats. As a society we apply a Rambo approach to disease as well; it “must be combated, fought against, assaulted, wiped out” (p. 42). Such a perspective results from artiﬁcially separating ourselves from nature and from abdicating responsibility over our own bodies: “The individual… has a private biological and spiritual integrity that is part of man’s heritage” (p. 76). Yet, many of us have disclaimed this heritage.
Tightly intertwined with this mistrust of self are “feelings of unworthy” (p. 56). We undermine our “own feelings of safety” (p. 56). The result is a societal approach to health which de-emphasizes the “body’s natural defenses, its integrity, vitality or strength” (p. 58). The doctor becomes the Great Intercessor and preventative medicine his magic potion. However, “the idea of prevention is always based upon fear – for you do not want to prevent something joyful” (p. 75). Thus, “preventative medicine [often] causes what it hopes to avoid” (p. 75). Selfexaminations for fear of suggested breast cancer “has caused more cancers than any treatment has cured” (p.57). Our “current ideas of preventative medicine… increase the individual sense of alienation from the body, and [promotes] a sense of powerlessness and duality.” (pp. 57-58) This sense of powerlessness is reﬂected within modern society. Man has turned “the most natural earthly ingredients against himself” (p. 58). We are now allergic to wheat, to dairy, to peanut butter, to red meats… the list goes on (p. 58). Our novels and poetry are replete with anti-heroes who “portray an individual existence [as being] without meaning, in which no action is sufﬁcient to mitigate the private puzzlement or anguish” (p. 58). Many of our novels and movies are plotless. Thus “no action is heroic, man is everywhere the victim of an alien universe” (p. 58). A powerless individual will often feel his actions do not count and will be driven to violent action as a last resort. Illness is often this last resort (p. 59) Writ large, we express illness in terms of the ﬂu season. It is a “psychologically-manufactured pattern that can at times bring about a manufactured epidemic” (p. 72). It is a “social program for illness” (p. 72). It mirrors man’s fears (p. 73). The elderly are encouraged to take annual ﬂu shots because, as you know, they “are more susceptible to diseases”; this is a “medical fact of life” (p. 72). But it is a fact that is “brought about by suggestion” and which does not consider “the truth of man’s biological reality” (p. 72). There are areas of the world where the elderly “are not disease-ridden” and whose “vital signs [do not] weaken” (p. 72). These
elderly “remain quite healthy until the time of death” (p. 72). Consequently, Seth does not recommend inoculations (please read those sections of INME carefully and take prudent action regarding your health). Seth says that “inoculations themselves do little good overall, and they can be potentially dangerous, particularly when they are given to prevent an epidemic which has not in fact occurred.” (p. 73) Seth insists that “in the most basic terms… inoculations do no good”, even though “medical history would seem to contradict” him (p.75) Our mistrust of our body, our belief that our health must come from an outside agent, our concern of the next big epidemic, all this is reinforced by the mass meditation of mass media. Medical commercials and public health announcements do not mention the body’s natural defenses and vitality (p. 58). Rather, they “reinforce negative conditions” (p. 59). They are more prone to promote disease, not prevent it (p. 58). A commercial about high blood pressure tends to “raise the blood pressure of millions of television viewers” (p. 57). Through mass meditation we are taught to examine our body for speciﬁc symptoms, a hypnotic suggestion that frequently results in previously undiscovered symptoms. By implication we are further taught to ignore our own feelings of good health (p. 57). Mass media, such as television and radio, and now the Internet, serves as conduits for mass meditation. They are not inherently harmful to our mental, spiritual and physical health. However, they do amplify both the “positive and negative issues” (p.56). It depends on the approach of the program. The medical commercials tend to raise a problem without relieving the tension or the fear delivered with the message. On the other hand, mindless, “unlettered, violent television dramas do indeed provide a service, for they imaginatively specify a generalized fear in a given situation, which is then resolved through drama. Individual action counts” (p. 58). Seth explains that television “interacts with [our] lives, but it does not cause [our] lives… Television reﬂects. In a manner
1 This obvious interpretation of the acronym, INME, was ﬁrst brought to my attention by a member of the Awareness Network, a group that meets in NYC to discuss the Seth Material.
of speaking it does not even distort, though it may reﬂect the distortions” (p. 81). Addressing man’s sense of powerlessness and reminding us of our responsibility over consciousness, Seth says that we “cannot separate [our] system of values and [our] most intimate philosophical judgment from the other areas of [our] private or mass experience (p. 76). Our medical beliefs are “intertwined with [our] economic and cultural structures” (p. 59). Our “private beliefs merge with those of others, and form [our] cultural reality. The distorted ideas of the medical profession… are not thrust upon [us]” (p. 75, emphasis mine). Seth begins to explain the relationship between the individual and this mass experience of the health industry, mass media and the ﬂu season by introducing the concepts of Framework 1 and Framework 2. Framework 1 is the world as we physically experience it (p. 80). Framework 2 is “the vast ‘unconscious’mental and universal studio” (p. 81) in which “all the details will be arranged, [such as] the seemingly chance encounters… [and the] unexplained coincidences that might have to occur before a given physical event takes place” (p. 82). While our “communication systems bring to [our] living room notices of events that occur throughout the world”, the “larger inner systems of communications is far more powerful in scope, and each mental act is imprinted in the multidimensional screen of Framework 2” (p. 83). And because that screen is available to all, and because all intents are known in the “creative atmosphere of Framework 2”, “no act is private” (p. 83). Seth notes that we “cannot gain what [we] want at someone else’s detriment… [we] cannot use Framework 2 to force an event upon another person” (p.84). From this injunction can be teased out the ideas of scarcity and abundance. A person who believes that we live in a world of limited resources may also see the world through the lens of scarcity on all levels. Thus, if one must win another must lose, if one must be happy another must be sad. There must equilibrium. But Seth’s injunction hints at a world of limitless abundance. Our gains do not have to be ill gotten. Wall Street does not have to be bailed out at the expense of Main Street. Seth’s words also address one’s sense of power or powerlessness. Events do not just happen to us; we participate consensually in the event. We have the power to choose. Again, addressing the issue of powerless within mass events, Seth discusses our interaction with memory and time. If the memory is “left alone, not structured, [it] will shimmer… and… transform itself [and] the other events of your life will also shimmer and change” (p. 66). We “can indeed change the present to some extent by purposefully altering a memory event” (pp. 67-68). We “form [our] past lives now in this life as surely as [we] form [our] future ones now also” (p. 66). And in “certain terms the past, present, and future… are all compressed in any given moment of [our] experience. Any such moment is therefore a gateway into all of [our] existence” (p. 67). Now, if I could only change my memory of how Ron Paul was completely marginalized by mainstream media, I would be looking forward to a presidential debate between Hillary Clinton and Ron Paul.
Seth’s injunction hints at a world of limitless abundance. Our gains do not have to be ill gotten. Wall Street does not have to be bailed out at the expense of Main Street.
Abandoning The Victim Mentality
Self-Centering in Mass Events
by Tracy Marshall
by Sheila Greer
ne of my friends has inspired me to take a few minutes out of my indignation over what is happening to our country1 to ﬁnd my center and relax and let it go. She has been getting angry, and so have a lot of us who have worked very hard to leave a better world for our children. She took some steps to make her opinions known, and she made the choice to trust and let go of the things she has no control over. Then she set out to ﬁnd something she can control and see to that task for the moment. Which in this case for her was to relax and create something positive in her world, like getting out to work in her garden. I don’t believe her decision to let it go advocates complacency, nor am I trying to say that anger does not have its place. Anger if used as it is intended, is a tool that produces change. It is also a signal that our needs aren’t being met.
ust minutes after reading an unexpected headline in the newspaper “Abandon The Victim Mentality”, I broke a tooth. What did I create that for? I wondered. I went to the mirror and realized that the broken tooth on the top corresponded exactly to the patch the dental hygenist had done on a ﬁlling on the lower one a couple of days previously. The repair patch was a bit too high, and the hygenist hadn’t done a bite check afterwards. In fact, I’d noticed at the time but foolishly didn’t mention it, and of course my ﬁrst reaction was to blame her for the broken tooth. When I called the dentist, the receptionist explained how busy they were, and how difﬁcult it would be to ﬁt me in. “Even though it’s your fault?” I heard myself ask, and immediately recalled the newspaper headline “Abandon The Victim Mentality”. During the drive to the dentist’s I mentally ran through all manner of possible scenarios, arguments and counter-attacks. I did, however, keep noticing the energy I was projecting, and repeatedly interrupted it — I even stopped for a few minutes in the elevator to change my energy somewhat before I went in, determined to project energy of cooperation and ease, rather than confrontational blame. The receptionist and I had a pleasant conversation about mutual friends and I got seen by the dentist right away. I wasn’t expecting to have to pay for it, as I still felt that the hygienist had been to blame — but I kept recalling the newspaper headline “Abandon The Victim Mentality”. I know I create my own reality, after all! The receptionist whispered to me that she didn’t think there would be any charge, but the dentist decided I had to pay, but would get a discount. “Abandon The Victim Mentality” was still ringing in my ears, so I didn’t argue and paid the money. It felt good in a way, as if I was taking responsibility for creating the broken tooth; not being a victim, and not blaming someone else. Creating the discount was a nice touch, adding energy of cooperation, and kept me on the right track. It also molliﬁed any lingering victim feelings.
My friend’s choice is a good reminder to me that our personal power lies in our ability to recognize what we can create and what we can’t. And we can’t create in someone else’s universe without their permission. Nor can anyone else without our permission create in ours. You see the simple thing is this. We all are the center of our own universe. Picture your personal universe as a circle with you in the center of it as a small dot. You bring things into that circle that you choose to bring into it. Your thoughts reside there with you, your emotions, your actions. You and you alone are responsible for what you create in your universe. The world that you make for yourself is what you make, and you alone. So we are all these individual circles just bumping into each other out there in space and time. Connected but individual. So my friend who found her center is creating something positive for herself in her personal space or universe. And she dealt with her dissatisfaction with the events taking place in our country by writing of her thoughts to the people she needed to write to and she voted. And then she created peace and love for herself and for her friends (because she brought peace to my universe and I give her permission to put it there.) And if we all follow her example we will be putting positive and peaceful thoughts out into the bigger collective universe, and then I think, no I know, positive will be attracted to itself and well, we will just see a better outcome to this whole thing than we started out with. One good rule of thumb to keep in mind while you are creating your world is to always focus on the things that you DO want instead of the things you DON’T want. You will attract like a magnet the same kinds of situations that you project. Peace and Love to you. 1 Sheila lives in the USA.
Breaking that tooth wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Awareness of Multi-Dimensional Selves by aKuna Kumara
sat down to write this morning and knew this had more than a daily blog feeling about it. Even though I no longer “channel” writings, they are telepathic; as such my ﬁngers seem to take over as thoughts run into them from my head, too fast for the mind to think them through. This is telepathy from my higher essence. Hopefully people will get what I’m fumbling over with words to explain, as it is important, in this present now, to understand it to move forward in our conscious awareness. Channeling has come to be revered by those on the path of enlightenment, as we read from many channels every month, bringing in new awareness. It’s through the service of many dedicated channelers that humanity has been moved forward in consciousness to the realization of its Oneness with all. Channeled information comes from beyond ourselves and generally is stated to be from a particular being or group essence with superior knowledge that act as guides and teachers to mortal humans. In its time this was ﬁne, it felt safe, it felt right to us, as we aligned ourselves with speciﬁc channels as teachers. It felt right because we connected to what was said as it expanded upon our own basic beliefs. The energy channeled also resonated harmoniously with our own energy and was compatible with what our personal guides shared in our meditations. Why? Because the essence channeling information gets ﬁltered through the beliefs which have become our reality; this ﬁlter acts like a colored disc on which pure white light falls and, as the light passes through the disc, the color on the other side changes — as with a prism. So all messages are ﬁltered by our own perception formed from our beliefs. Well… time for a change… time for the next step.
Change! — how appropriate in a time of great change around the physical world in our everyday lives. It’s like the motor suddenly kicked into over-drive and we are speeding forward toward this period stated as “zero point” or the Big Shift of 2012. First let’s forget that date, it is just a linear marker. Let’s think of it as speeding down a tunnel so fast we ‘crash through’ a wall at zero point and instantly begin counting up again in another new tunnel. This is shifting from one zone or frequency to the next; like riding waves of sound frequencies: we move from the low point
to the high point or pinnacle and then begin to slide down into the countdown to zero point again. We progress creatively as we struggle up that wave to the pinnacle and then, in the slide down, we apply that creation as constructive progress to be expanded upon, until we cannot expand it any further at that frequency. Then we begin the next upswing on a new frequency wave. This is consciousness moving on the waves of the universal web in continuous expansion. This is a picture of what we call the Shift of Consciousness viewed from the outer universe. So we have reached a point in our slide to where we are nearly at the zero point, and as we continue the slide we pick up momentum and move faster and faster —this is why time is speeding up. We need to ﬁnish the construction of this channeling creation we began so long ago, which was also the written messages in our holy books. Yes, prophets of old were doing the same thing as those we call ‘channels’ do today. Time then to complete this creative effort before we reach zero and begin the upswing to create upon it expansively in new frequency.
How exactly then is channeling of higher consciousness going to change? Simply, we are going to stand in our power knowing we are higher spiritual essence and awaken ourselves to awareness that the higher spirit/being/guide/essence/ or group essence sharing the information is nothing else but our own Higher Self Consciousness, speaking to our Human Self of the illusion in this focused daydream. These messages are coming from the multi-dimensional parts of our soul self. YES… the messages coming through To You Are From You. Let’s use a visual explanation… You are a Christmas Tree… at the top is a star: it is the main ‘you’ or the soul. That part of you is what so many have called the ‘Over Soul’. You, the real ‘you’, is the essence star at the very top of the tree; all the other twinkling light trickling down on the body of the tree are creations or thoughts of the top star. These thoughts are like our daydreams but focused upon so intently that they each become their own reality —one of which is You as this human. Now, in the course of lighting the tree, to prevent the electrical energy circuits from blow-out, you have chosen to forget that you are actually a thought of the thought
of the top star. In other words the Main Soul Essence at the Top has a focus of being, and the being in that focus has a thought of being, and that being has a thought of being (somewhat like those pyramid plans designed as get-rich quickies). The essence at the very top is having many thoughts of being, which are all having their own thoughts. So understanding who we truly are is knowing we are a Thought of a Thought of a Thought etc. This is creation from the top down. This is what makes us all ONE from the top down.
The purpose of telling all this is to help you become aware that your human self must now recognize channeled messages are not from outside yourself but are You channeling information to the You at the end of the line of twinkling lights on that Christmas Tree. Once you begin to integrate this as your truth, you lift your vibrational frequency to a higher level and you no longer have to tell yourself the channeling comes from other sources as it comes from you. Those who channel what they think are other beings, be they spiritual Saints, Ascended Masters, or ETs, are just other parts of yourself. Your multi-dimensional selves are thoughts having thoughts, thinking them real, as they are the reality which is being focused upon. When we integrate this, we can then connect telepathically more directly to parts of our self we call ‘higher self’ essence. We will realize other beings on our frequency are telepathically relating messages of higher essence also, even though it no longer needs to elude themselves that they are channeling. It is where we must be in our power by using discernment to know we are hearing our truth — and that which is appropriate on our path back to the original source at the very top of the tree. As we step into the new upward swing in frequency at the zero point of the shift, we will then begin to expand upon this awareness knowing we, as a species, have come to a place on the inﬁnite ocean’s waves where we have raised our consciousness to speak directly with higher awareness. In this we will come to understand a new perception of ourselves as the Oneness, whole of ‘All That Is’, to begin climbing up to the pinnacle of the next frequency wave.
Understanding who we truly are is knowing we are a Thought of a Thought of a Thoughtâ&#x20AC;Ś This is what makes us all ONE from the top down. Red pinapple, Jean-Baptiste Duret
The Yellow Mattress, dreams within dreams within dreams! by Emmy van Swaaij
stumbled upon something interesting in the dream state. A technique to travel in between two different dream layers. It is still very fresh and I’m still exploring it (and will probably do so for many years to come) but I would like to share some of what I found during my explorations. I haven’t come across this technique in any dream books I’ve read so far — who knows, maybe a fellow explorer somewhere discovered the same technique but I’m just not aware of it yet. So far I’ve had three experiences where I used this technique. It’s something you can do when you catch yourself in a lucid /conscious dream and when you do not know what to do next. This occurs with me sometimes, where I stand blinking with my eyes, “I’m conscious now… what shall I do?” Well, during one of those moments I discovered the following travel technique that opens pathways to even more explorations! (as if there is not enough to explore already)
The yellow mattress, portal to unknown lands I’m having a conscious dream, I’m very conscious of dreaming and am inside a building. I see people walking into one of the rooms. I have the impulse to follow them and see what is happening there. When I enter the particular room they entered… they are gone! The only thing I see is a yellow mattress lying in the corner. I know they did something to travel out of that room. I get the impulse to lay down on the yellow mattress and decide to fall asleep and see what happens. Suddenly I find myself travelling very fast to Egypt. When I arrive there I’m stunned. I zoom through the sky and go so very fast, even get a bit
nauseous from it. Geez! I decide to head back to the old location. I’m stunned when I see that I returned to the exact same room I started the whole dream inside the dream adventure. I wake up, like I would normally wake up, only this time not in my bedroom, but in the room with the yellow mattress and the only thing I think is: wow this is big! Then I wake up in the waking state.” This was not a false awakening as many people experience when having lucid dreams. (I’m talking about the moment I woke up in the room with the yellow mattress) this was consciously deciding to wake up from that deeper dream layer, ending up at the location I used to enter that second dream layer. On the ﬁrst of May 2006 I had the following dream where I used this technique again:
The yellow mattress adventure continues: Jim Carrey1 and the library of experience I’m sitting on a yellow mattress [the mattress had this color for me to remember what happened in that other dream…] Jim Carrey sits next to me and I explain to him the function of the mattress. I say: “You can use this as a kind of portal.” I’m trying to travel with the mattress technique together with Jim but it does not work. We try several times, laugh a lot and Jim is very interested in the technique and we both hope it will work. Then I give up for a second and decide to walk away for a brief moment. I walk towards the next room and just as I enter the room I hear a strange sound. I turn back to see that the ‘portal’ is open! I run to it and see it is closing again. Jim just did it! He was able to do it! man! I think and I run and
run and jump in the portal after him. I have to force it open a bit… and feel uneasy about that. I’m very worried that “others” will be disappointed in me, that I did something stupid. I’m always the one to say never force yourself and see what I just did. I am angry at myself and ready to get a lecture by the woman whom I see as soon as I start looking around me. I find myself in the middle of this huge library. The woman is not angry at all, not even showing signs of disapproval… no… she explains to both Jim and me what we can do here. We are both in awe of the hugeness of this library. Jim just says something: “Hey… we did it!” He is very enthusiastic and not at all noticing that I feel uneasy about forcing myself. The woman starts talking and goes: “This is a gigantic library of information. It’s not a library as you normally know it, it’s way more practical. Instead of reading about information you experience it here. You literally gain experience. You can do whatever you want in whatever pace you want to.” I look at Jim who is exploring one aisle of the library. He is very enthusiastic, delving into some subject he totally likes. Sometimes shouting to me: “man this is SO cool!” I’m delving into another area of the library on my own after hugging him for a second. Then I wake up. I’ve had one more of these kind of dreams and plan to try again next time I ﬁnd myself in a conscious dream. I’m curious if there are other people who had similar experiences during their conscious/lucid dreams. I also found out that it doesn’t matter if it’s a yellow mattress. Any place where you can fall asleep at inside the dreamstate will do.
Note from Emmy 1 Speaking of Jim Carrey, you may want to check http://betterufoundation.org the website of Better U Foundation, which was created by Jim Carrey. “One of Better U’s guiding principles is the idea of being of service as a motivation to all great accomplishment Our Mission is to teach a person how to fish rather than order off the menu”
A Better U means a better universe.
Boston Aquarium’s1 Critters by Jean-Baptiste Duret http://flickr.com/photos/eschraiel
1 New England Aquarium’s website: http://www.neaq.org
What is a Final Focus? by Anet Paulina
eople who believe in reincarnation or otherwise acknowledge that the human soul or essence manifests in more than one lifetime no doubt are familiar with the idea of a last or “ﬁnal” lifetime. The channeled personality Elias calls each life a focus, because it is a focus of the attention of the soul or essence. Hence, the “last” lifetime is the final focus. Those with reincarnation beliefs typically view a soul’s lifetimes as chronologically linear and progressive, with each life building upon knowledge and awareness gained in the previous one. In this belief system, the ﬁnal lifetime would have the most wisdom and experience and therefore would be considered more “enlightened” than the previous ones. The term past lives is a misleading because all lives actually are occurring simultaneously – there is no “time” outside of our perceptual framework. This can be a difﬁcult concept to comprehend. A helpful metaphor is to view a soul as a mansion with hundreds (or even thousands) of rooms. In each room a different life is being lived, in its own time period. In one room the soul is manifest as a male Native American in the 1800s; in another, it is a female slave in ancient Egypt. In yet another, the soul is expressing itself as a Scottish nobleman in the 1400s. Each of these lives, along with scores of others, is occurring at the same time. If the lives are simultaneous, an obvious question is: how can there be a ﬁnal one? Why would it even be necessary?
I thought about kisses And went for a walk
In fact there is a ﬁnal focus, but not in terms of chronological time, or even accrual of wisdom. To use another metaphor, a soul’s manifestation on earth can be compared to a trip to a large shopping center with a tremendous variety of shops, restaurants, movies, and other activities. When the soul ﬁrst arrives (in the “initiating” focus), it is excited and perhaps bewildered by all the possibilities and potential experiences. The soul manifests more lives to experience all the things it is drawn to, visiting some types of shops repeatedly, as it has a preference for those types of experiences.
So many kinds oh, so many thoughts Treasured memories of kisses – all kinds Memorable moments like lip-honey-wine
Eventually, as with all shopping trips, the soul has experienced everything it is drawn to, and the time has come to leave the mall. But someone — one of the soul’s focuses — needs to make that choice! That “someone” is the ﬁnal focus.
Wonders of pleasures and of that sweet spot
If, as Elias says, the ﬁnal focus is not based on chronological time, what is it based on? As a ﬁnal focus myself, I would like to think the designation means I’m more advanced in wisdom, knowledge, and awareness than my other focuses — that I have somehow reached the “top of my class” and am ready to graduate.
I continued my walk and here’s what I got… My first kiss today came straight from the sun Debi Yoachum
photography Tracy Marshall
Perhaps sadly (from the ego’s perspective), I have realized that this is not the case. A ﬁnal focus is no more enlightened than any other focus. The designation of ﬁnal focus is determined by one characteristic only: strength of the desire to leave this system of reality. The ﬁnal focus is, quite simply, the one who makes the choice to leave the mall.
The White Room by Hayley Youngblud
few years ago, my son, then 18, suffered what I guess can be called a nervous breakdown, or a mental breakdown, when his girlfriend left him suddenly. I say ‘suddenly’ although there were signs. I caught the signs; he didn't. After days of not eating, not talking except in monosyllabic grunts, and crying when he thought I wasn’t around, I decided to call a friend of mine who is a Reiki Master. At that time, I was still a beginner at Reiki and didn’t feel conﬁdent enough to try it myself, alone. So we arranged for a treatment with Maureen. During the session, I tried to offer Reiki from the hallway, to assist. While the treatment was in progress, I had my eyes closed, sitting in a chair in the hallway, and I had a vision of a white room, or whiteness, just blinding whiteness and I felt my son enveloped by a cloak of calmness, which is the only way I can describe it. After it was over, about 45 minutes, Keir felt better but didn’t say much. Maureen had a look that seemed to say it all went well. We thanked her and made small talk and left. The drive home was uneventful. I didn’t share with him what I saw, nor did I ask if he saw or felt anything. The next night, Keir approached me in the kitchen and asked if I was doing anything that night, which meant he wanted my attention. We sat and talked. He was still very upset about being dumped, but there was something else on his mind. He said that while Maureen was working on him, while he was lying down, he began to feel the table being lifted, or AS IF it were lifted. He kept his eyes closed and felt multiple presences in the room, standing in a circle around him and Maureen. The room was white (in reality, it was a dark color). The ﬁgures that were standing around the room were clothed in white. He pictured Maureen in similar garb, even though she was dressed casually. The entire scene was WHITE. And he felt a healing energy entering the top of his head, spinning as it entered, like a white tornado, and ﬁlling every cell of his body. He felt ripples of tingling energy running through him. I asked if it freaked him out, and he said no, it felt very calming and natural to have these people in the room with him. And they offered him some kind of calming mantra which he could no longer remember. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, at the time. He said he could tell their main concentration, or point of concern, was on his heart. Later, he was still depressed, but with much less pain, if that makes any sense.
The next day I called Maureen. I asked what, if anything, did she sense while working on Keir. She said oh, her guides were there, dressed in white in a white room, as they always are when she does a Reiki treatment. So I asked who. She said she’s not really sure, but she always calls them the White Brotherhood. I asked if she meant the Great White Brotherhood (who are supposedly Ascended Masters) and she said no, just that the name seemed to ﬁt her group of healers/helpers who always appear in her mind’s eye as dressed in white, and always in a white room. So… I had a vision, while in the hallway, of whiteness, or a white room, and my son had a vision of a group of beings dressed in white, in a white room, and Maureen also had a similar vision. Keir had a few more sessions, but not as dramatic as that ﬁrst one. Within about a month, he was out of his depression.
Note: Abraham (Esther & Jerry Hicks) said the following, in regard to a question about grief and loss of something or someone in your life you love:
What you are wanting to teach them is “get on with your life!” What you are wanting to teach them is that life does go on. What you are wanting to teach them is that they WILL feel better. What you are wanting to teach them is that their joy is not dependent upon them controlling the condition that they cannot control. Nothing you do is going to undo what has happened. So you’ve no choice other than to embrace it and find a different way of looking at it. Albuquerque 08/29/06
A Special CMPC Announcement Cosmic Motion Picture Company
Public Service Help Line Dial 1-SLF-AWRENES
ometimes you have to go right down to the inner self for your own answers. Not your best friends’ answers, your husbands, your neighbors, or 1-900-PSYCHIC. Honey, you need to dial yourself up. There is a special room at the CMPC subsidiary ofﬁce that handles that very thing, as a public service. Just dial 1-SLF-AWRENES for a free direct connection. That room is completely manned by three sisters. Triplets, as a matter of fact. Faith, Trust, and Acceptance. So every time you dial up, you be talkin’ to Faith. At least to begin with.
Cosmic Motion Picture Company
CMPC Tour and Travel Wherever you go, there you are.
ANNOUNCEMENT This month's special - Absolutely Free The Road to Recovery.
An exciting vacation OFF the MBST Bus.
(Mass Belief System Transit)
No limitations, as many days and nights as you may need, based on single occupancy. CMPC TOUR
In Control No Exhaust
Once outside of the MBST bus, allow yourself to venture into the unfamiliar, as you will find a line of probabilities before you. You have your choice of moving in any direction. We provide a large backpack that you may stuff with the "Value Fulfillment" you will collect during your movement. You shall be moving more and more efficiently into the location of effortlessness in your own expressions, and viewing new freedoms. Are you understanding? We are quite encouraging of this vacation.
After traveling for what seems to be your entire lifetime, we offer you the occasion to pull the cord, and stop the bus at any time. Give yourself the opportunity to be trusting in your own spontaneity, and do not be swayed by other individuals who choose to remain on the bus. Relax your hold on the handrail, and disembark. Dial 1-SLF-AWRENES. You may inquire of Travel Agent Trust as to the information, which has been previously offered, and she may be helpful in your accessing of this information. If you are calling to inquire as to the information of the simplicity of the movement, I express to you, there are many different elements that surfacely, objectively engage, and cause the MBST bus horn to beep at regular intervals.
flickr.com/photos/lfdeale *The above announcement brought to you by the "Friends of EliasSpeak," a very distinct group.
by Sharon Mendenhall
Faith is very beautiful. She is just what you would expect her to be. She spouts lines about how safe and loving the universe is. How we are all one. And how that very, very cooperate consciousness would never betray you. And as soon as she says you only need to trust, well that’s like Trust’s cue. Trust cuts right into your call. Trust is also very beautiful. You can tell that they’re sisters. And you would also guess that Faith must be minutes older than Trust, because she acts like an adoring younger sister. She will tell you to have trust in what Faith is telling you, or have faith in Faith, because Trust trusts her, or something to that effect. But sooner, or later, she will say something about acceptance. That’s Acceptance’s cue. And Honey, this is where the call gets real interesting. Acceptance is a bitch. I mean, she must be the oldest, and had a hell of a time getting out of the chute. Her whole face is mashed to one side, and she always seems to be talkin’ out the corner of her mouth. You don’t even have to know what she looks like to hate her. I mean, whatever you can imagine that Acceptance would look like, is exactly what she looks like. And what even pisses you off more, is that fact that Acceptance is the oldest, therefore the wisest. She has more comprehension in her little ﬁngernail than both Faith and Trust put together, both of them being blonde to the max. So you can pretty well guess that whatever Acceptance says is not going to set well. You see, you can talk to Faith and Trust all you want, but it is Acceptance that kicks you somewhere around the yellow Chakra and makes you unconsciously OM in a yoga breath. So if you dial 1-SLF-AWRENES you know that some time during that conversation you will be dealing with Ms. Acceptance, the Bitch. The Bitch of all Bitches. The one that is constantly in your face, like Mom on a bad hair day. You know that everything she says is absolutely right, but you don’t want to hear it, much less do it. “Like Fuck Off Acceptance!” But, Acceptance will stay right in your face until you hang up. The problem with that is that Prosperity is right next door, and you have to go through the switchboard to get to her. And Faith always mans the switchboard, twenty four seven. Faith is always doin’ her nails while she talks to you. And they are lovely indeed, but you always get the feeling that she is a little sidetracked. And then Trust comes on, and tells you to trust in what Faith just said, and you’re not quite sure what Faith just said, but before you can explain, Acceptance is on the line. So at that point, you are so angry, that you forget to ask for Prosperity before hanging up in a rage. The point is that you have to get all the way through Faith, Trust, and Acceptance, before you can get to Prosperity. Faith and Trust are always looking in their little compact mirror adjusting their ﬂuffy blonde locks and touching up their perfect makeup. But Acceptance has a huge double sided dressing table mirror with a long handle, and when she holds it up you cannot see her face, you can only see your own reﬂection which gives you the impression that you cannot speak to her without seeing yourself. It is very upsetting communicating with Acceptance even over the phone. So you can easily see, it will require a whole bunch of phone calls before you know Acceptance well enough to learn her full name. You may think it is ASS, but it is really AOS. Acceptance Of Self. Surprisingly, if you talk to her long enough, you will begin to like her as wisdom has its merits. As you come to terms with Acceptance you will also come to terms with the mirror reﬂection of yourself and at some point remember to politely ask for Prosperity. You only need to graciously ask, for Prosperity is always willing to answer your call. If Acceptance is in the mood and not experiencing PMS, she’ll patch you right through.
Careful What Y u Wish For by Ayyon
Mbook entitled “Magic: An Occult Primer” by David Conway.
any years ago when my mind was young and powerful, I acquired a
This was in the early 70s, before I “met” Seth, and it made a profound impression on me. I believed every word of it, including the part about “healing” and “afﬂicting”. I was young then, fairly rebellious to authority, and believed fervently that if you were right, nothing else mattered. My work environment was an electronics factory which had been a cornﬁeld 5 years earlier, bursting with enthusiasm and with everyone frantically doing everything in their power to make the place successful. We all shared in the joys of creation, and the management tolerated very unregimented behavior as long as it contributed to the overall success. As it became evident to the older managers in the corporate organization that this upstart factory was “the jewel in the corporate crown”, they gradually came replacing the people who had created this “miracle”. Our personnel manager believed that you tested and screened for people who would happily work in the job for which they had been hired for their entire career. He carefully screened for the stupidest, most unimaginative, and most incapable people he could ﬁnd for janitorial work.
The next personnel manager, newly arrived on the scene, chose “seniority” as this was easily ascertained, and put group leader jobs up “for bid”. The result was that those originally hand picked for stupidity and further tested by their willingness to stay in menial jobs now gradually came to be in charge! Higher management was confused by our practice of working without breaks until the production machinery was running satisfactorily and then taking them. They much preferred having a bell ring and for everyone to stop working for a period, and for another bell to ring and for everyone to start in again. Bringing about this change to highly regimented behavior was the responsibility in my case, of a pretty good man who we will call “Joe”. I didn’t really dislike “Joe”, but my life was much more pleasant when he was not around. He missed a lot of work because of a diabetes related sore toe. I started concentrating on his sore toe whenever he was missing, visualizing him singing and dancing, and the circulation increasing to the toe. This was so successful that it seemed impossible not to attribute it to cause and effect. Strictly from a scientiﬁc test basis and with no malice intended, I started “causing” the toe to get sorer, and then “curing it”, with the test being whether he was at work or not. I began to accumulate results which to me could not be coincidental, and was about to discontinue the “afﬂicting” part, but always seemed to need to try it “one more time” just to be sure. I was lying in bed one night, concentrating on his toe when I found myself tumbling head over heels through the air toward his house. The “trip” took a measurable amount of time, and speed seemed faster than the speed of sound but not nearly at the speed of light. We lived probably 25 or so miles apart, and in a couple of seconds found myself in his breezeway where I had never been. My body seemed pretty normal, and I could see him but he could not see me. I seemed to be standing on the ﬂoor normally. I was delighted, and not at all frightened. I asked myself if I could pass through the wall at will and instantly found myself doing exactly that. My next thought was “I wonder if I could set the place on ﬁre” and saw myself engulfed in ﬂames. I became very alarmed at what I had done and “awoke” screaming “Put it out! Put it out!” My heart was racing and I felt very guilty. By the next night I had pretty much convinced myself that it was just a very real bad dream, and I was mildly surprised to notice “Joe” wasn’t at work the next day. It seems that there had been a ﬁre of unexplained origin at his house the night before, and that he was cleaning up. The time matched the time “I was there”, and the part of the house where it occurred matched also.
illustration by Elikozoe
The Essence of Yum Here there be monsters…
by Marcy Singer
by bob strating1
was rustling around out in the kitchen a little while ago, making peanut sauce and thinking about this whole concept of putting a recipe column in Wisp. Such a column really doesn’t seem to belong in an e-zine that deals with topics like the Shift, meditation, dreams, and the like. And yet Eric kept encouraging me to write something, do a recipe, share my food ideas, etc., so eventually I succumbed. Cooking IS my hobby, so it didn’t take all THAT much armtwisting.
Here there be monsters… Just at the edge of our understanding, just like the ancient mapmakers. We, so enlightened, so evolved, also map out our own monsters. We are uncomfortable at sea? Let’s call this area the Bermuda Triangle. Here there be monsters. Can’t explain gigantic ﬁgures drawn in the desert sand in Peru? Or how ‘primitive’ Egyptians could build pyramids? Let’s say ancient astronauts in UFO’s did it. Here there be monsters… Global warming? Earthquakes? Famine? Flooding? Are these simply natural events or signs of the end of the world? Here there be monsters… Uncomfortable with death? Here we have ghosts, angels, demons and a host of other things which are not the things we truly fear. They are the monsters that we label that keep us preoccupied so that we don’t have to face the real fear. Here there be monsters… How about politics? We have monsters there also. We have a ‘vast rightwing conspiracy’. We have the ‘liberal media’. We have the ‘gay agenda’. We have the ‘neo-conservative fundamentalist Christian right.’ We have monsters aplenty. It’s easier to deal with monsters than people. Here there be monsters… And every one of us has our own maps with our own personal monsters on it. Trust issues. Commitment issues. Fear issues. Issues with the past. Issues with money, love, sex. Issues rife with danger. And those we love have to travel with us without ever seeing our maps. They discover the monsters as they surface. If we’re lucky they learn to deal with them and at the same time, help us to deal with them.
photography Tracy Marshall
n ancient maps you’ll ﬁnd that statement. Generally it’s at the far edges of the known world, far beyond the horizon. Places at the ends of the earth, just before you get to where ships might sail over the edge. Those are the places of monsters. Sometimes inhospitable islands and reefs that sank many ships were labeled on maps with the same designation to warn future sailors away.
The thing is, all of those other topics are very interesting and intriguing, but I also ﬁnd regular old life to also be interesting and intriguing. I ﬁgure that no matter what else we might be doing, we gotta eat, and so why not eat delicious, interesting food? And I also ﬁgure that there are other people out there who would like to know what’s going into their supper by preparing it themselves, so why not share some of my favorite recipes? I’m a person who loves taking a little of this and a little of that, things that might not seem to go together, and mixing them up in ways that are unexpected. I almost never make a recipe exactly as written because I’m always looking for the little difference, a slight twist, something that makes the dish a little more interesting. With that in mind I will be offering up recipes as time goes on that I have found go over very well with my family and friends, evoking oohs and aahs and ‘are there anymore roasted garlic green beans left?’ or ‘who ate all the pumpkin walnut cookies?!’ Looking for an excellent, simple homemade spicy peanut sauce or a soy-mayo salad dressing that takes just minutes to prepare? Stay tuned! And stay hungry!
Here there be monsters… But the truth is, for the most part, there are no monsters. There are only our own fears in various guises. Those places in our lives where the waves are uncomfortably high. Where the rocks are jagged and ﬁerce looking. Where it’s easier to just step back, get out our maps, and scrawl along the margins… Here there be monsters. 1 In lower case letters, as the author explains “not for any real reason other than being inﬂuenced by e.e. cummings in [his] early writing years and avoid[ing] the shift key on a keyboard.”
For our readers either non-American or not interested in TV programs, “The Essence of Yum” is also a thinly disguised reference to the Food Network TV show “The Essence of Emeril”, where famed American chef Emeril Lagasse (a Libra) shares his recipes. Lagasse is also known for his catchphrases like “BAM!”
Difficulty: Easy Preparation time: 15-20 min Cooking time: 5-10 min
The Essence of Yum Recipe by Marcy Singer Pesto chicken and mozzarella on ciabatta with fresh tomatoes and capers What you need boneless, skinless chicken breast halves — 3–4 will probably serve 4 people generously d olive oil d pesto d capers d sliced mozzarella, provolone or Swiss cheese d ciabatta loaf d (optional) fresh tomatoes d
What you do Preheat your oven to 350°F (180°C / Th. 6). Cut up chicken breast halves into ∞” pieces. Heat olive oil in skillet and sauté chicken pieces until no longer pink inside, about 5 minutes or so. Put some pesto into the pan with the chicken and stir until all the chicken pieces are coated with the pesto. Slice the ciabatta loaf horizontally and place both halves cut side up on a metal baking sheet. Spread each cut side with pesto and sprinkle with capers. Evenly distribute the chicken pieces on both bread halves and top with sliced cheese. (You have just made two large open-faced sandwiches.) If you want to add fresh tomatoes, just place the thinly sliced tomatoes on top of the capers and pesto and place the cooked chicken on top of the tomatoes. Heat the sandwiches in the oven for about 5–10 minutes until cheese is melted and bread is crisp. Cut each sandwich into however many slices you want and chow down!
photographic interpretation Éric Lemoine
Bellrock, by A. Howard Reed
The intention of WISP is to provide a place for personal stories; inspirational, light, humorous, challenging or anything in between… and beyond. We would welcome any kind of personal writing, artistic works, poems, essays, etc. Find previous issues and all published stories on our website...
http://wisp.focusphere.net Wisp e-zine — Issue #6 — October 2008 — ISSN 1760-4796 No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher