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N°13

13 August–September 2009

Photography by Elikozoe


Editorial Exquisite Corpse by Éric P. Lemoine

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pontaneity—genuine spontaneity— beyond what appearances might tell us, is not something that comes easily, especially given our usual upbringing which tends to bend or harness it into something productive for society. The Surrealist movement in the 1920s is remembered among other things for artistic and playful experiments that led to expanding our boundaries and views of reality by practising spontaneity without allowing the thought process to hold the full prominence it usually gets. Automatic writing —and automatic drawing— were in fact techniques that Surrealists developed extensively, before they were used by pioneers of conscious exploration such as Jane Roberts. One of their games/experiments in particular was known as “cadavre exquis” (exquisite corpse). It required a group of people to collaborate in order to compose something (initially sentences, but by extension, drawing, collage etc.) without having a complete view of what the others had contributed to the creation. There is something reminiscent of an exquisite cadaver in Wisp, for each contributor brings in a piece without necessarily knowing what the rest of the picture looks like before the final release. For months, at each release of the magazine, it has been a joy and a privilege for the editors to see the final picture of Wisp reveal itself before their eyes, and the common themes of the issue bloom from the intermingled roots of different yet contiguous varieties of plants. As you may see, the plants have grown a fair deal, and this current issue proudly sports no less than sixty-four pages. Truth be told, it has been a practical exercise in spontaneity to acknowledge that the experiment was no longer bringing as much ease and fun as it has been, given the time it required to keep the quality on a par with previous issues. We often wish for change, but it always comes as a bitter irony when we realise that we’ve been the very one holding on to a given experience by wanting to prolong it longer than it required. In many ways —and of course timely synchronicities have come since to reflect it more than once— Wisp has fulfilled the extent of what it could be in this format. It makes each of the past thirteen issues even more precious and dear to us, even if the website will still be available for future developments. But for now, it’s time for the Will-o’-the-Wisp to take a well deserved break, but not before thanking every reader and contributor of this exquisite adventure, and revealing its current one!

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AUG.–SEPTEMBER 2009

Email for inquiries and submissions wisp.ezine@gmail.com Cover artist Elikozoe Design and publication Éric P. Lemoine

ISSN 1760-4796 Contributors to this issue Cynthia Andrews (USA) KC Anneken (USA) Rob Arteman (USA) Ben Arthur (USA) Palma Bellardoni (Italy) Emma Bevan (UK) Jean Blenkhorn (USA) Valerina Brookes (UK) Yvonne M. Buonamici (USA) Vicki Canning (Scotland) Lea Cox (USA) Rick Daddario (USA) Jean-Baptiste Duret (France) Mark Felder (USA) Pat Gerber (Switzerland) Sheila Greer (USA) Sabine vom Hoff (Germany) Amnon Keinan (Israel) Richard Kendall (USA) Bart Boy Kiamko (Philippines) aKuna Kumara (USA)

Lee Krush (Canada) Begoña Landi Pienaar (Portugal) Bill Marshall (USA) Tracy Marshall (Spain) Reginald Martin (USA) Sharon Mendenhall (USA) Devonne Morgan (USA) Grey Morgan (USA) Anet Paulina (USA) Jenifer Ransom (USA) J. Robillard (USA) Carolyn Rose (USA) Gordon (Artrias) Rosenberg (USA) Emmy van Swaaij (Netherlands) Trottinette (France) Sonika Uppal (India) Fattaneh Vaziry (Iran) Madeleine Walker (UK)

This 13th issue of Wisp is likely to be the last one released in this magazine form for an indefinite period of time. We’ll make more use of the website if interest and participation continue, in order to present more views of a shifting world in a manner that requires less of our time and more of your spontaneity. Ready to embark on a new adventure?

Contact us on the forum http://wisp.focusphere.net

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.


Group Drawings by The Wisp Team These drawings were done during 2007–2008 as an experiment where we drew on a single canvas at the same time. Hilarious results and a few hours of polishing later, here they are. One may think of Wisp as an extension of these mind-stretching and whimsical experiments made to inspire and expand…

More at http://elikozoe.net

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Inside Editorial — Exquisite Corpse

Éric P. Lemoine • p.2–3

Art is Everywhere

Jean Blenkhorn, Trottinette • p.6

Postcard From My Sandbox

Tracy Marshall • p.6–7

About Presence

Sabine vom Hoff • p.8–9

Enter The Matrix

Anet Paulina • p.10–11

The Sweat Lodge

Emma Bevan • p.12–13

Whisper Zone

Cynthia Andrews & Fattaneh Vaziry Rich Kendall • p.14–15

Dream Snapshot, The Broken Path

Lee Krush • p.15

Sing Your Heart Open

J. Robillard, art by Carolyn Rose • p.16–17

Breath Of The Universe

Palma Bellardoni • p.18

Whisper Zone, continued

Sonika Uppal, Jenifer Ransom • p.18,20

Fairy Tales Can Be True

Lea Cox • p.21

Dreams and Possibility

Ben Arthur • p.22–23

ATCs, Baubling Crows

Rick Daddario • p. 6, 23

How I Choose What I’m Going Mark Felder • p.24–25 To Experience The Door

photography by Tracy Marshall • p.26–27

An Exchange of Love Madeleine Walker • p.28–30 I Am a Fish

Sabine vom Hoff • p.30

Getting Out of My Own Way Bill Marshall • p.31 Lessons from the Animal Kingdom

Valerina Brookes • p.32–33

Zoo Keeper For A Day Vicki Canning • p.33 In the Ocean of My Consciousness Begoña Landi Pienaar • p.34 Conversations With Amnon II

Amnon Keinan • p.35–37

Robotman’s Energy Exchange – Session 4 Rob Arteman • p.38-39

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photography by Trottinette

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“Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.” Pooh’s Little Instruction Book – A.A. Milne

Dream Within a Dream

Gordon (Artrias) Rosenberg • p.40–41

It ENT No More

aKuna Kumara • p.42

My Enchanted Garden, The Elm Tree Forest Tile of The Month (The Dragonfly) SethWorld Game History Fly Away My Future Focus Petunia The Power of Imagination Sheila’s Garden Diary The Slideshow of Experiences Slidemen Venus (Libra) Jane Roberts Collage

KC Anneken • p.42–44 art by Bart Boy Kiamko • p.44–45 Jean-Baptiste Duret • p.46

Yvonne M. Buonamici • p.47 Pat Gerber • p48–49 Sharon Mendenhall • p.50–51

Reginald Martin • p.52 Sheila Greer • p.53 Emmy van Swaaij • p.54–58

photography by Tracy Marshall • p.56–57 by Sabine vom Hoff • p.59 Richard Kendall • p.60–63

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by Tracy Marshall

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Smile, photography by Trottinette

ATC by Rick Daddario

A Postcard

Art is Everywhere

From My Sandbox

o what have I learned so far? I’ve been reading a lot of other people’s words for almost fi fty years (I started reading early) and for the past five years I’ve been reading alot of the words of our non-physical friends, and I still do. I love to roam around online reading words, and copying those words here and there, knitting the impulses and synchronicities together. But now I think that if I never read another word ever again, I could still find out everything I might want to know. Sometimes I think I would find out alot more, alot quicker if I stopped reading other people’s words! But then, what’s the rush? There is no rush! I love reading other people’s words. You could say I love creating my words reflected back to me in physical imagery in the guise of someone else’s words, just for the fun of it. Anyway, the fact that I now know that I can find out anything I might want to know without anybody else’s words (which is really a case of trusting my own intuition, trusting that if I ask the question, I do already know the answer, even if it’s fun to make a game of hide and seek, or a big puzzle out of it first) is in itself noteworthy, because the previous forty-five years worth of reading material didn’t have that effect. Another way to say that is that my explorations have changed within the last five years and I drew into my reality exactly what I was looking for, both then, and now. Well, anytime, haha! Any now. Another interesting thing I’ve learned—well, I could say remembered, because it feels as if I already knew it, and forgot—is that we are making it all up as we go along. It’s all real and we’re making it all up, it’s the same thing, not one or the other. We’re making it all up AND it’s all real! And that seems to be the POINT. It’s like an unlimited selection of sandboxes to play in. And we box ourselves into those sandboxes to see what it’s like to play in them. When we’ve played everything we can think of in one sandbox, we create another sandbox to play in and explore. If we want to explore no sandboxes at all, or all one big sandbox we can do that too. But then, dolls houses and tree forts are so much more fun if they have lots of little rooms, hidden corners, secret nooks and crannies, and surprises! So I guess individual sandboxes are going to remain popular games. The good thing is though, and this is another thing I’ve learned, is that we can HAVE IT ALL. We can—and do! —do it ALL. It’s the most amazing thing, and yet we’ve always been able to do it (we just thought we were making it up, d'oh!): We can connect to anything, any place or noplace or any time, or any individual that we’re curious about. Well, we so often do! And imagine how much more fun we could have with that if we weren’t always worrying if our information is ‘correct.’ ALL our information is translated according to our individual beliefs, which includes everyone else’s words that we create in our own realities. So if something that pops in seems like a fun part of the explorations, why throw it out? —Just call it fiction!

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And imagine how much more fun we could have with that if we weren’t always worrying if our information is ‘correct…’ If something that pops in seems like a fun part of the explorations, why throw it out? —Just call it fiction!

Every exploration adds to the whole and that is the point, if there is a point. One thing I’ve realized is that it’s not a case of finding the right path, it’s a case of exploring EVERY path, and THAT is “All That Is” being all that it can be. I don’t think “All That Is” wants everything to be the same for everyone, because that wouldn’t be a very all encompassing “All That Is,” would it? It would be “Not Very Much,” not “All That Is.” That’s a seemingly obvious revelation, but it’s a biggie that seems to come in layers of awareness for me. I notice this a lot when I have the urge to tip my sand into someone else’s sandbox, or want them to make castles with my bucket. Anyway, the good news is that I don’t have to explore all the paths in this focus, because all my other focuses, aspects, probable selves and so on are doing it, but at least now I know that I can connect to them whenever I want to. (I don’t discount my impressions so much these days, but I do tend to forget them. I don’t think that matters either, but that’s for the ‘keeping track’ part.) With all of our probable selves exploring all the paths this probable self didn’t choose, it hardly matters what I do choose, in the sense of ‘right’ and ‘wrong,’ because if the whole self explores all probabilities, for the purpose of experiencing from all angles, to be all that it can be, then how can any of them be wrong? That’s just logic! NOTHING is less than anything else. Keeping track—oh, I play alot on this seesaw. Sometimes I try to keep track of things, things I think I might need or want again, and it never works. Then at other times I feel like I’m on a roll, in the flow, and things just land in my lap as if by magic. It’s pretty obvious that this does actually work best, to simply trust that I will find what I need whenever I need it. I do still play around with the keeping track idea though, usually until I get backache. Well, let’s put it this way, this is what I believe as I write this; it’s just a postcard from my sandbox…

East meets West by Rick Daddario

AUG.–SEPTEMBER 2009

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Waves, photography by Sabine vom Hoff Wisp e-zine

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More About Presence There have been some articles about ‘presence’ published in this beautiful magazine. I wrote them, but they were not exactly about presence.

The first one was about becoming aware of the outer senses, and the latest was about becoming aware of limitations and how to neutralize them; that is not presence. The Ocean is telling me about it — I’m listening. All I can say so far is this: I experience my pure existence, my beingness; I recognize with all my senses the reflections of myself. The reflections flow — I am the reflections and I am not. Reflections are merely the translation of myself. How many reflections are there within merely one minute? I am not able to count them. The funny point right now is that my communication with the Ocean is the focal point of my experience. I go swimming, however it is not really ’swimming’ because the power of the Ocean is so strong that I don’t bother swimming distances. I prefer to communicate instead with the waves. Each wave is different. Each wave, whether it carries me gently and smoothly or smashes powerfully over-under-through me, is the closest of all reflections I ever became aware of. And I am aware now, that it is not important what the reflection is or how I reflect myself.

Important is that ALL is reflecting myself… and that is what I understand to be presence — so far.

Sasa, June 18, 2009, Ocean Beach San Diego, CA http://sabinevomhoff.blogspot.com/

AUG.–SEPTEMBER 2009

 Wisp e-zine


Enter the Matrix

by Anet Paulina “Something definitely will change; we just can’t tell you what.”

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o goes the tagline of a Matrix Energetics practitioner. When was the last time you heard a statement like that from a healing arts professional?

The antithesis of conventional medical practices, which focus on diagnosing and treating (or more commonly, managing the symptoms of) health problems, Matrix Energetics (matrixenergetics.com) is a revolutionary energy transformation technology that goes beyond previous definitions of “energy healing.” Rather than trying to change or fix a problem, it allows the client to move to a place where nothing needs to change. Invented by Richard Bartlett, an irreverent, new millennium shaman who accomplishes reality shifts with a wave of his hand, Matrix Energetics is based upon principles of quantum physics. The moment I first heard about Matrix, I felt irresistibly drawn to investigate it. I had been practicing another energy healing modality sporadically for several years, but intuitively sensed that I needed to learn another, more powerful technique – I just hadn’t come across the new method yet. The moment I heard the words, I knew Matrix Energetics was it. Having studied metaphysics, psychology, and holistic healing for decades, I realize that no method or belief system can provide “the answer” to all of life’s challenges —simply because the only true answers lie within us. Nevertheless, I have recognized the value of using tools and methods that allow me to more easily believe I can make the shifts and changes I know are possible. This is, for me, what Matrix Energetics offers that is so compelling. Reading Richard Bartlett’s book, Matrix Energetics: A Hands-on Guide to Subtle Energy and Radical Change, I felt my excitement rising as I read the accounts of miraculous changes the naturopathic physician / chiropractor had achieved using methods so “out of the box” that they would raise the eyebrows of even the most forwardthinking health professional. Even more intriguing was the discovery that not just Dr. Bartlett, but numerous practitioners he trained have been achieving dramatic shifts in clients. In one case, a man who had completed a Matrix Energetics seminar invited a friend to have a session. The friend said she wanted to work on weight loss and general health balancing. A bout with Bell’s palsy several years earlier had left one side of her face slack, but she considered this to be a permanent condition and wasn’t even trying to change it. As the session progressed, the Matrix Energetics practitioner watched in amazement as the drooping side of woman’s face spontaneously began to lift. Weeks later, the woman reported that not only was the change holding, the muscle tone in her face was continuing to improve.

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What actually happens in a Matrix Energetics session? The short answer is that no one really knows. The quantum physics explanation is that in each moment we create one “version” of reality (much like a single frame of a movie) and that in the next moment we can substitute a different version. Typically we recreate much the same outer imagery simply out of habit or because we don’t believe we can make significant changes. A Matrix Energetics session is an opportunity to open ourselves to making changes we previously did not believe were possible. Another way of explaining Matrix Energetics is to use an information technology analogy: each of us is like a single computer, unconnected to a network. Source energy (or the zero point field, God, All-That-Is, or whatever term you prefer) is like the Internet. The Matrix Energetics practitioner serves as a “modem” that connects an individual to source energy. (This analogy isn’t completely accurate because each of us is always connected to source energy. But we often don’t perceive that connection, and the practitioner assists us in doing so.) An explanation I developed involves viewing our “outer” reality as if it were an image in a kaleidoscope. All that we perceive in the outer world is an out-picturing of our inner reality. We are holding (and in complete control of) the kaleidoscope. By turning the cylinder (shifting our energy) even slightly, we can change the image to a remarkably different picture. In a Matrix Energetics session, the practitioner assists the client (who previously may not have realized such change was possible) in turning her kaleidoscope.

What actually happens in a Matrix Energetics session? The quantum physics explanation is that in each moment we create one “version” of reality and that in the next moment we can substitute a different version… A Matrix Energetics session is an opportunity to open ourselves to making changes we previously did not believe were possible.

The most important attribute for a Matrix Energetics practitioner is trust: trust that whatever happens (or doesn’t happen) is always in the best interests of the client and everyone involved. This idea sounds lovely, but in my experience is not always easy. When a person is suffering in any manner, my natural impulse is to want to ease their discomfort – to “fix” their problem. Yet in viewing the person as having a problem, I am, in a sense, discounting them and their choices. The art of being an effective practitioner is to be able to enter the space where I truly see the individual as whole and perfect —as they are now. When I can serve as a clear mirror for a person, it allows him to recognize his own abilities and make a choice to change in a way that is most appropriate for his personal growth. My personal practice style involves assisting clients in attaining insights about themselves that allow them to move forward on their life path with more ease and clarity. What types of conditions can be altered in a Matrix Energetics session? Anything from health problems to relationship issues to financial troubles. I have never experienced conditions changing for the worse, although in some cases there may be a period of adjustment when some upheaval occurs. Generally the best results are attained when both the practitioner and client maintain the attitude that the outcome will be what is most appropriate and beneficial for the client at that time.

Anet Paulina, author of Transcend Aging: Stay Young Through the Power of Your Beliefs (transcendaging.com),

is a Certified Practitioner of Matrix Energetics. For more information or to schedule a session, email Anet at contact@transcendaging.com.

photography by Grey Morgan

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Sweat Lodge

The

by Emma Bevan

I Sweat Lodge, photography by Emma Bevan •

am not sure there are words to describe the experience! I will tell you as much as I am able. There are some things which are not to be spoken, private things between us and the great Spirit. I do not know if any of you have experienced this or whether or not you will agree with my interpretation, but I hope you enjoy reading my version—here it is! We met first to decide who would sit in each position, to talk about the ritual and its etiquette, and what would be done at each point. The entrance was low, you crawl in, and water is offered between rounds to drink. The men left the meeting-tent and us four women undressed inside, the six men outside. The sarong I wrapped around me was discarded inside, as you cannot bear to wear anything! It was absolutely amazing, nothing could have prepared me for it. The only way to deal with the immense and incredible overpowering heat was to remember that we are not solid matter but just energy, and to allow the energy of the fire to flow through us as energy beings… the chanting also helped to focus.

Fire, photography by Sabine vom Hoff

Absolutely amazing, nothing could have prepared me for it, the only way to deal with the immense and incredible overpowering heat was to remember that we are not solid matter but just energy, and to allow the energy of the fire to flow through us as energy beings…

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There were four rounds, the first was the dance chief invoking the great spirits. The hot rocks were brought in and placed in the fire pit, herbs and tobacco sprinkled over them (this is repeated at beginning of each round), then over 20 pourings of water onto the rocks. This was the biggest ‘shock to the system’ for those of us who were there for the first time, the small and pitch black space filled with the heat and scents etc. nearly overpowered us all! Then the dance chief took us through each chakra, envisaging each one becoming a flame of its colour. Next, each of us said prayers for ourselves, in turn, and a pouring of water for each person—could you possibly feel any hotter?… Would anyone ask to leave? People were restless, committed to the ritual, yet wrestling with themselves and their egos which were battling with us to resist instead of let go. Then the door opened, the night air entered and we could breathe again, so it seemed! We all crawled out (we all needed to, the energy was very powerful and needed to be released) and lay on our bellies on the wonderfully cold grass. There was a moment when some of us wondered if we could actually re-enter, but we decided it could be faced, and we all did. For the second round, as we entered we began to chant again, helping us find balance and the power to continue. This round was for prayers for others/the world etc. This round was easier to cope with, and somehow there seemed to be more space inside (time and space just an illusion?). At the end the door opened; less people left to lie on the grass at this point. I found it helped me build up more focus and my physical plane perceived it as relief!


The third round was the ‘give-away’ to release anything you wish to be rid of, but to remember to ask for a positive to fill its place. This time we would all speak at once and when the last person had finished speaking, the round would be finished. Everyone, it seemed, had a lot to say! Then, at last, the door opened once mor; it was the last chance to cool off as nobody was to be allowed out during the last round, although you may ask to leave during the others if you need to. A few of us chose one more cooling lie on the grass, then returned to crawl back into the lodge. The fourth round entailed giving thanks to the Great Spirits. The dance chief told us this would short, but hot. What, it gets hotter? As I crawled back to my place in the West (the place of mother earth, femininity and balance to the dance chief, who sits in the east at the doorway), I saw one of the others lying down with knees bent to make room for the others. I decided that was the best way to cope too! The towel under my head had to be draped over my knees as now they were in direct line of heat from the rocks. This time the blessings were faster, the pourings flowed one after another, the intensity of heat was bordering on unbearable, as I continued to breathe deep in through my nose. (I had discovered from the start it was impossible to open your mouth to draw breath in there.) I tried to keep up the chant, then listened to the dance chief as he thanked each spirit. I focused on me being just an energy spirit, that nothing is solid, and felt myself spinning around in spirals around the inside of the lodge. Then it was over and the door was opened once more, and we could all crawl back out and lie belly down on the cool earth. Exhausted, exhilarated, filled with adrenaline, cleansed, humbled, and definitely re-birthed! As we got dressed my legs shook as they tried to carry me into the cottage for the shared feast. I felt I could have either collapsed into deep sleep or else run up a mountain! As we ate we gave our gifts to the dance chief, known that night as Rowan Wise Heart, and to the fire chief, my friend Steve. Towards 1:00 am, we drifted off to our various resting places. My friend Pam and I, along with Steve, Stevie and Pete, all retired into the woods to our tents, some into the caravan in the garden, one on a sofa. It took me an hour to persuade myself I could sleep, but I awoke at 8:00 am feeling fabulous to the sound of coffee brewing by the fire. This WAS an amazing journey. At one point I thought I could not go on or ever experience it again, but the ego melted in the heat. And I would do it again, it is truly a life changing experience. I prayed for all my friends and families and I hope on some level you were touched by the blessings!

Re-Birth Suspend all you thought you knew Forget thinking you were prepared Blasted, stripped bare, Bare to the bone, to the soul, Senses at once assaulted and caressed, Here is where you learn No-thing is left to hang onto, To lean on, Just the Self, Both humbled and carried high, Barely able to breathe and yet Gulping in pure Life Whilst the ego melts in the face Of such consciousness. Here, in the depth of Utter darkness All talk of awareness Takes true form, beginning to swim with the particles of air, of heat, Of energy, Solidity is useless here. One level sees the naked, vulnerable, safe, connected Bodies, How little they matter, How matter is but Illusion. Eyes closed, eyes open, All is One Layers peeled back Until the skin, the bones, The essence, all begin To fall away with the Nonsense called reality And instead they begin to circle within the air, Spinning in spirals, Oh! The utter joy… The fun and the Release combine To create exhilaration, Carrying you through and beyond What the physical plane Perceives as total discomfort But which the spiritual plane Perceives as pure freedom. Falling away, ascending up, Spinning around… Crawling out of the womb of Re-birth, Lying upon the cold grass Your belly connecting with the Grandmother Earth… Blending hallucination Of old Reality With perception Of the new And knowing, Happily, That ‘you’ will never be The same. Emma Bevan, 2009

La Loba “I am declaring myself All Woman. Within that I am the Nurturer, the Healer, the Listener, the Mother, the Patient one—all those things you see… and yet more—I am also the Thinker, the Fixer, The Protector, the Lover… for I not only listen and assist, but Feel and Sense, I Laugh and Dance and See. I have gathered my strengths over the years, I have sung the bones back into Life, I guard my children fiercely within Love, I value my independence, yet I do not dismiss others from my hearth… friends and kin welcome, and do you see this warm space—for my lover… One who will Know, See, Feel… One who will know when to visit and when to hunt, when to crow and laugh and when to smile and sit, quiet… I wait patiently for such a One. For in being here, solitude is soothing, is powerful, is all you need for Seeing, Knowing, Flowing… and yet it is written, at the right Time, that in Union the light of Love is ninefold. Waiting is just one of my tasks… And I bring the light of Universal Love into my cave, not afraid to live alone, to create the healing herbs, appreciate the solitude that aids my work, singing loudly to make my fire dance, who sees my intuition flow freely. I answer to nobody, I harm none. I live in and with Peace. I will visit you in your dreams, bring you gifts, whisper secrets… sharing all delights, all knowings, sowing the yellow seeds… I am all woman! Laid out on the sunny rock, crouched beside the running stream, kneeling by the fire, singing under the Moon… yes, I am here for you all, I love you all, my soul bursts with the Joy of it all… who then will run with me, La Loba, as you hear me howl…?”

‘Chwedl ’n brudd benyw’ Emma Bevan 2009

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The Savage Garden Waiting Waiting for the sun to go down And feel the heat rise from the earth with its moist organic scent surrounding me. Then I can go to the places I went before in dreams of days never spent while here. I lay hold of night jasmine in my mind savoring the difference between it and the decay that lingers below the surface of all things. I know this is not real And in knowing it becomes all there is. The Savage Garden With Trees Dancing in Twilight

Cynthia Andrews

What If… Every day and night I imagine this… What would the world be like if it was More accepting to its flaws? If the world and all the people in it, Realized not a single soul is perfect and That we all have anger and at times we all cry?

What if we all lived for ourselves and the moment that was present? What if the world took into consideration that Life is meant to be lived and cherished… Not feared and spent hindering our own selves? What would the world be like if no one lied, No one cried, there was no hate or disgust… Only love and trust. These questions all leave my mind at an unrest. Sure, there are a lot of them and more to be voiced. But when they all come together They can all be summed up into one simple question. A question that stops us all to think of all the possibilities… What if there was peace?

Fattaneh Vaziry

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photography by Sabine vom Hoff


Dream Snapshot The Broken Path

photography by Lee Krush

Like meteors we move through space, We set out for a day trip in the woods, with an intention to take pictures of my Blythe dolls. I had this vision of my Petite Blythe hitchhiking down the road, when a VW bus appeared from a distance. We walked along the bike path until a crack took hold of my attention — my dream location, I thought to myself. There, I took “The Broken Path” shot, and a quote from one of my favourite films Himalaya came to my mind later that evening...

“I remember one of my masters told me: when two paths present themselves, always choose the more difficult.” http://www.flickr.com/photos/gato-san/

Lights flicker on and off guiding us to destinations we cannot see Like meteors we move through space Pausing, we sleep within the dreams of others, As they awaken, so do we, and continue our journey Like meteors we move through space, Voices trailing behind us begging us to stay Not realizing we have already been gone for centuries Like meteors we move through space, Passing points of no return without regret We hold on to nothing, At peace in the knowledge That more things will be forgotten than will be remembered Like meteors we move through space, We hopscotch over memories whose ownership we cannot verify Dressed in pure energy we are always in fashion Changing colors to match the skies we pass through Like meteors we move through space And finally realize it is not us that moves through space But space that moves through us, like meteors.

Richard Kendall AUG.–SEPTEMBER 2009

Wisp e-zine


Sing

Your Heart Open

 by J. Robillard

I

attended Hannibal Means’ “Sing Open Your Heart” workshop recently. There were eight participants in the class. The teacher, Hannibal Means, is a Viennese opera singer and voice teacher. I was initially attracted to Hannibal when I heard him perform at the Crimson Circle meeting on Saturday. Here was this big guy dressed in colorful African garb, with a jewel in the center of his forehead. His eyes spoke volumes… I could not get over how much his eyes expressed constantly! (I told him that his eyes are like jewels in his face.) There is a constant sparkle and a constant energy projection through them. His singing voice evoked deep emotion in me. So, when I heard he was giving a workshop, I wanted to go. I had never had a voice lesson or even been attracted to going to a singing workshop until that moment. At the beginning of the workshop Hannibal asked each of us what we wanted from the workshop. I said that I wanted to have fun and wanted to discover something new and passionate about my voice. Hannibal looked at me and said “You are fi lled with rage. When was the last time that you expressed rage?” I was somewhat mystified by this, but stayed open to anything that might happen in the workshop. I was currently feeling nervous and shy about being in a group of people I didn’t know, and not knowing what might happen later.

So, first we began the breathing exercises. The main thing that I learned is to “Sing from Jerusalem” or “sing from your pussy” as he also described it. Hannibal quoted Caruso as saying that when he sang, he could hold a dime in his butt cheeks. This is the correct way to pump the energy up from the lower body and out through the voice—on the outbreath, contracting the pelvic muscles. I practiced this all evening. Then we began singing tones and tunes and numbers, one at a time. A different note for each number. At this point I was feeling nervous and a little anxious, and I remembered my meditation practice of opening to the emptiness/Awareness in the very NOW moment, which immediately helped. I sensed the tension and nervousness in my body as a solid energy overlay, but as soon as I went into the Now, that solid energy broke up into little chunks like rocks that were permeating

This was an opportunity to apply my meditation practice to a new and unknown experience. Here I am, required to sing out in front of a group… but I had already told myself that I would accept whatever came. I would allow myself to be whoever I was going to be and just be the observer of that. I would have no expectations about my performance. This was an opportunity to apply my meditation practice to a new and unknown experience. Here I am, required to sing out in front of a group—something I have never done before—and I could sound really bad too, and I could even express rage or cry or feel tense and closed… but I had already told myself going into it that I would accept whatever came. I would allow myself to be whoever I was going to be and just be the observer of that. I would have no expectations about my performance. For sure— energy would move in me. If nothing else came of it—I would discover myself in this new situation. In the beginning of class Hannibal spoke of his own rage as a teenager. He said that he was so angry that so many people were lying with their voices, that he stopped speaking for a few years and only spoke with his eyes. He spoke with his eyes and he played his flute. Aha! That’s why so much energy is pouring through his eyes! Later I shared with him and the group that I want to do that also—express through my eyes with that intensity.

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acrylic painting, 30×36”


Hannibal began an exercise in which we each were required to sing Silent Night with the expression of Rage. As I sat listening to the others in the group, my energy body was activated—I felt little explosions, vibrations, and pulsations moving through my whole body. Instead of focusing on my own upcoming turn and what I would do, how I would perform, I again tuned in to the Now, into the Silent empty openness of the Self, and allowed my awareness to fi ll the whole room (and not focus exclusively on the person who was currently singing and projecting rageful emotions, or stuckness, or whatever they were feeling.) I wondered how I might muster up some of my own rage, but immediately it came to me. The feeling of being a Jewish mother and having my children ripped away from me in the concentration camps… the FEELING of being having my babies stomped on the ground by soldiers and being driven from my home (as a Native American). Rage came easily and when it was my turn to sing, my fists were clenching and my feet were stomping those soldiers into the ground, my face expressing the hatred that I felt, and my voice automatically singing Silent Night. I can’t even remember it now—I was so intensely in the expression of that moment. Mind was elsewhere. When I was done, Hannibal said “That is your power! I Am That I Am!” He also said something else about me singing the song of the dolphins and the whales. (He had instructed me to sing in a high voice in the beginning—something I have never

done, bringing my voice higher and higher to the highest notes…) And I vaguely remember doing that. Later in the workshop he helped me to do it again by saying “Sing to the stars!” and I just sort of began experimenting with my voice, loudly and with really high notes. The feedback from Hannibal and Jean (a participant) after I sang again, is that these really high and pure tones were the song of the stars, the sounds of the dolphins and whales, and tones that evoke higher consciousness, pure consciousness, “I Am.” I was amazed by this feedback because I had been so much “the singing” that I hadn’t really heard myself until I was told what I did. Still, it didn’t feel amazing to me. It felt like Being natural in the moment that I was doing it. Ah, so that’s what natural action always feels like. Just that. No pretense, no trying, no performance. Just Being in the moment however that moment is going to come out and however I’m going to be within it. The last piece that I’ll share is that we had each chosen a power animal for the evening—just picking the first animal that came into our awareness. Everyone else had a predator—hawks and eagles and bears and raven. I had a deer. When I told Hannibal my animal at the end, he sang “Home on the Range” to me, emphasizing the deer and the antelope playing… key word being play. He later said that my natural expression is innocence and purity and play. (He saw this in me as I hadn’t said any of this to him. How could he know? And yet he DID know.) All in all, I’m very content and happy that I allowed myself to take the risk of showing up at that workshop, and also just Being me however I was going to be in that situation. I discovered something new about my voice (the dolphin sounds), I had a lot of fun, and I felt “seen” for who I am by Hannibal and others in the group… and I experienced the power of Presence/Awareness in the Now moment to deepen my experience of physical expressions like singing… Being the singing, being the action. Instead of expressing the Power of Self-Awareness in the Now only while sitting in meditation, it now begins to express its aliveness in Action.

my energy field. Okay… rocks of unexamined material… but I accepted myself where I was, rocks and all. I allowed my awareness to fi ll the whole space of the room and I stayed in the now moment when it wasn’t my turn to sing… not focusing on how the others might perceive me when it was my turn. So, when it WAS my turn each time, I just sang out without regard for anything not pertinent to the singing. My voice cracked but I didn’t care. I sang loudly and let my body feel natural and do what it wanted to do. I was so much “the singing” that I really don’t know how I sounded but it sure felt great! I was the singing… not the singer, not the “product” of the song, but The Singing.

Earthly Delights, art by Carolyn Rose http://honorbright24.multiply.com

I

had ‘drawn’ for years and yet stopped for twenty years or so, caught up in the triviality of life. It was not until personal catastrophe overtook me that I picked up my paintbrush, unfamiliar object that it was, and painted my first painting. The word ‘Epiphany’ comes to mind. Rather like the idiot savant I had become, painting my concerto. People would ask me from time to time, why I had stopped drawing. I had felt so trapped by the lines —the paint freed me up.

I realized in the scope of one painting, I had my own style, my own way of expression. I know that there are so many who are academically far advanced than I in proportion and depth perception, yet I paint souls. You will notice that I do not sign my name in the proscribed fashion of other artists. I do not like following the cookie-cutter examples of others. There is a rose painted into each of my paintings, which is a challenge in and of itself, investing hours into blending it into the theme of my work. I use my initials to form: CMy, and the Rose. So, you see, I do not personally identify ‘who’ I am in my work; rather just a symbol that I was ‘there.’

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Wind Song Have you ever wondered Mused over, what isn’t there Those blank spaces in between Those dotted lines where only your imagination has been Lyrical myriad feelings slid across with half meanings trying to insert reality, diffuse simmering unintended leanings Thunder rolling beyond yonder and yet so close… Somewhere along the way, the awkwardness vanishes and gradually…… without design… You move closer, yet scared to cross that final line the time defying eagerness that sucks you right in Some incredible intensity mixed with warmth everything to lose and so much to win A wind song that is graceful yet clumsy that sweeps you off your feet to warm red mornings, aching humid nights to unknown, glimpsed fleetingly dizzying heights to a moment when you stop trying to interpret and resist this haunting song letting your guard down once more fully aware of the pain that will come along Letting the wind awash you… no rights or wrongs…

Sonika Uppal

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photography Tracy Marshall


Breath

of the Universe by Palma Bellardoni • http://www.buddhatrance.com

I

attended by chance a small expo about eolic (wind) energy, informing the public of this clean technology to harness electricity. There was a photographic display with beautiful images themed around the concept of wind. The title of the show was so beautiful and inspiring. Wind, the breath of the Universe. I am still thinking about it. It really gives the idea of this live, pulsing, conscious Beingness that is the Universe. It is interesting how the words breath, wind, spirit, and soul, share a common root in many languages. The English word ’spirit’, comes from the Latin word ’spiritus’, which means breath. The Breath of Life, the internal wind, is the ki, or prana, the life force that penetrates all living things. Everything is in constant motion, and wind is what makes everything circulate. The article The Relationship between Vital Breath and Dao describes this breath beautifully:

The entire universe is made up of perpetually circulating Pure Vital Breath, enabling billions of worlds of unlimited height to remain suspended in emptiness. This Vital Breath is like wind yet is not wind; like water yet is not water (it enables the world to remain afloat); it binds together the entire universe.

Breath and Consciousness Just like the Breath of the Universe is an expression of Universal Consciousness, in our physical world breath is a vehicle for individual consciousness. The most obvious thing, is that when we breathe we are alive. When we are aware of our emotions (which is a reflection of thoughts, our reaction to them), we will notice that breathing changes according to our emotional state. Reversing the process, we can also affect consciousness through our breathing. When we are anxious, our breath is shallow and superficial, while deep breathing calms the mind. Wind is produced by energy in motion, and our e-motions are just that, energy in motion. Breathing and emotions are intricately connected. By observing our breathing, we become aware. Breath is our connection to Mother Earth, every other living being, and All-That-Is. Breath regulates the flow of life force, while it is controlled by the Mind. Pranayama is a series of techniques for breath control, affecting the link between body and mind, and creating states of expanded consciousness, and an enhanced condition at the physical level. Not only at the level of our nervous system, but throughout the entire body. Life force penetrates and nourishes every cell of our physical body.

Conscious abdominal breathing Most of the adults in the western word breathe only half way through. If you observe newborn babies, you will notice that they breathe with their bellies. They pull the air in through their abdominal cavity (belly goes up and down). Adults use mostly their thoracic cavity (shoulders/chest go up and down), and have lost part of their connection to our Source. The diaphragm remains inactive. Sit in a quiet spot, with your eyes closed, and inhale by expanding your abdominal muscles, then expand upwards to include your chest. As you expand your belly, the initial inhaling of air will be automatic. Keep inhaling all the way up to the chest. Hold the breath for a few seconds. As you exhale, finish up by contracting your diaphragm and abdomen. Why is abdominal breathing so different and life giving? This way of breathing stimulates our diaphragm, just at the height of our solar plexus chakra. This is where the bridge to our subconscious resides, and therefore the gate to the Universal Mind. Going back to clean eolic energy, harnessing the powerful and infinite breath of this Planet, will help us all breathe better too, by keeping the atmosphere clean and pristine. When we breathe clean air, we breathe the breath of the Universe. All the way from Universal Breath, to cosmic winds, to the winds of our Planet, our own breathing is the wind of individual consciousness, connected to the original breath, to the awareness of Being.



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Infinite Tea Party I am part of this party, merging, converging my doing and my being, sipping the infusion of finite and infinite tea, the kozmic macro and micro me. The gifts are passed around the table. Unhurried, unworried, I unwrap, one by one (and simultaneously), my presents in multi-D.

Jenifer Ransom

http://writtens-jen.blogspot.com

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Fairy Tales Can Be True

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by Lea Cox • http://bus-stop-lea.blogspot.com

remember reading in mythology as a child that those who were foolish enough to look upon the faces of the gods were either struck blind, mad or dead. I would have preferred blindness if anyone had asked me because that would have been some kind of memory, you know? Dead was just too permanent but madness had its own special allure. Just because you were mad didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun. I met a happy mad man not too long ago. I say ’mad’ but in truth he could have been experiencing any kind of physical or mental disorder. Or maybe he had no disorder at all. Who am I to say that he wasn’t telling the truth? I believe in fairy tales, don’t you? I met this gentleman while I was walking with a friend to the farmer’s market downtown. She was with her two dogs, a wolf and a golden retriever. Lovely animals! We strolled along chatting about this and that, and this perfectly normal appearing elderly gentleman came towards us. We both smiled and said good morning to him, and he stopped and said, ’my sister lives up there.’ He was pointing straight up to the sky but I thought he might actually be pointing at some houses on the bluff above. I asked him if he meant the houses and he said no, up there, repeating his finger pointing at the sky. ’she’s waiting for me, preparing a place for me,’ and I thought, oh, she’s already died and he’s happy knowing that she’ll be there waiting for him. He then explained that his sister was Mary Poppins. That was great! My friend and I looked at each other with delighted faces and I said, “That’s wonderful! I wish I had a sister who was Mary Poppins. Heck, I wish I were Mary Poppins!” His face lit up and he gave us a big smile and continued on his stroll. My friend and I didn’t discuss him because both of us were all too familiar with the good folks who weren’t always tracking in this reality. But I continued to think about him long after I finished shopping at the farmer’s market and returned home. Had this delightful man merely come up with a fantasy that helped him cope with his sister’s death? Had he simply forgotten to take his medications that morning? Or had he dreamt that his sister had come to him in a form he could understand that let him know that he hadn’t been alone, would never be alone? I don’t know, but we all have ways of coping with the world when the reality is just too painful.

I remember when my mother had gone through a treatment of electric shock therapy for her depression and had come home after recovering. I got up with her at 3:00 a.m., drank coffee, smoked cigarettes and told tales. She shared me that when she had been given an electric shock that a friend of hers, a green dragon, had come to take her out of her body so she wouldn’t have to experience the pain that had come with it. I asked her where her friend had taken her and she had replied, Mars. I had been delighted with the thought (and still am) because the treatment had looked so brutal and harsh and I had been glad to know that Mom believed she had been protected and with someone during it. Was it true? Why not? Many people believed in angels—why couldn’t hers have appeared as a green dragon? I had been raised Catholic and angels had been standard fare in this religion. Whatever the source it had helped her through a very difficult experience and I had been glad she had her dragon angel to help her cope. I had dealt with a difficult childhood by becoming a perfectionist and had demanded the same from everyone around me. Those who had failed to come up to my standards had heard about it too, believe me. Looking back I know now that I had been trying to exert some kind of control over my own reality to compensate for the horrible lack of control I had felt as a child. That everyone around me suffered also when I had been on a rant is one of my crosses to bear but I try to make up for it today by giving the understanding and patience to others that I never had as a child from my parents. Mental illness frightens some people. But unless they are paranoid schizophrenics with violent tendencies, they do not frighten me. I’m comfortable in my reality now, the fear and despair now replaced by compassion, happiness and love. Delusions don’t make me uncomfortable—indeed, they can be quite helpful if they don’t interfere with daily living. This gentleman had come up with a fantasy that helped him get through the day and I sure wasn’t going to take that away from him. Besides, who wouldn’t want Mary Poppins for a sister? I sure would!

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Dreams

and Possibility First Chapter

by Ben Arthur

http://fenster.deviantart.com

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nce upon a time, there was a town where the people never knew when they woke up, what they were going to do that day. When they rose from their beds, they would look at one another in a slightly different way from the day before, and then would try cooking something they had never eaten before. Their meals would be cooked in a creative way by whoever had dreamt of a new meal. Some days, they might skip breakfast altogether, just to see what that felt like.

After breakfast, their dreams would guide their hands to whatever work they were called to do; some felt like cutting the yard into interesting shapes, some would experiment with liquids, while others would prepare the most delicious desserts. Argus, the clockmaker, had clocks that could gently wake you from the most wonderful dream without dismissing it completely. Norbert, the architect, built the most amazing houses, each one unlike the last; marvels of beauty and design, each one hiding a secret room that the children could sneak away to when they didn’t want to be found. Eliza the dishwasher found exceeding joy in her job of washing the dishes to a perfect shine, and placing them carefully into the drying rack. Rusty the garbage man was filled with wonder every day as he witnessed the marvels that can be found in the trash (if you know how to look). People would come from miles around to watch them do their work. There was no competition—Eliza the dishwasher was just as important as Norbert the architect, and they were happy to teach anyone who wanted to learn the mysterious secrets of building a house or scrubbing the silverware. Nobody worked for money, because everyone gave freely of their creations, using their skills to support each other. One day Argus the Clockmaker and Eliza the Dishwasher had a child, and they named him William, but William would not dream. So Argus and Eliza summoned Peter the Painter, who painted the most wonderful scenes on the baby William’s wall, colorful pictures of him having magical adventures with wizards and dragons. Argus set to work building a clock that could sing sweet songs to his child, and guide him through dreamland. Every morning, William woke up screaming, and always demanded the same thing for breakfast every day. His heart could not guide him, and so he watched the others as they created their dreams freely and resented it.

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One day, when he was a young man, he was watching his mother as she cleaned the dishes with her usual flair. Suddenly a dish fell from her soapy hand and cracked on the tile floor. William whooped with laughter and pointed his chubby finger. Eliza knew that when you wash many dishes, you are bound to break a few, so she was puzzled by William’s laughter. She smiled, and swept up the dish. “Why do you laugh, William?” she asked, wishing to know the joke. “You broke a dish, it was funny because you are so good at washing dishes, but for a moment, you weren’t very good at it at all, you were clumsy and stupid.” He grinned. Eliza was even more puzzled, because she had never thought of being “good” at something before. She washed dishes because it made her feel happy, she loved the challenge of a dirty meat pan and the sight of clean dishes as they sparkled in the drying rack. “I suppose…” she thought to herself, “If i were to go on breaking dishes every day, until there were none left, that would make me a bad dishwasher!” This was also new to her, for she had never thought of anyone as a bad dishwasher before, even cousin Bernie who when he washed dishes, broke not only the dishes, but the silverware as well. “I must be more careful!” she thought. “I don’t want to become a bad dishwasher, and break more dishes.” Still, she could not laugh as her son did, in fact this whole idea filled her with dread. Every dish became a obstacle for her to overcome, and as she slipped the last dish into the drying rack, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Being a good dishwasher is hard!” she thought to herself, shaking her head. She went to her husband’s workshop to see what he was working on. William was there, watching his father craft a large mechanical tree. “When I am done,” said Argus, “this tree will grow real fruit, on the hour, for anyone who wishes to pick it!” said Argus, showing his wife the diagrams and sketches. He smiled as he looked up at his work, and so did his wife. “That’s impossible,” laughed William. “There’s no way you can do that!” Argus was puzzled by his son’s laughter, but his wife turned to him, “Perhaps he means you are not a good enough clockmaker to do this?” “No,” stated William. “This is impossible, no one can do it, not even my father, who is so good at making clockwork!” Argus stared up at his work again and knew his son was right, why should he work on impossible things? He knew that as a clockmaker, he would try to create things that he had seen in his dreams. They had never worked exactly as they had in his dreams, but that was all well and good to him, because he enjoyed the smell of the gear grease, and using the tools, with their smoothly moving parts. “My son is a smart boy,” thought Argus. “I should be sure what I work on is possible, so that I don’t build things that might not work” He sighed and began dismantling his clockwork tree.


The next morning was a very different one for the family. Eliza woke from dreams of crushed dishes, and as she washed, she worried that one might drop and break. William watched her very closely, and when she finished the last one, she breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. “Good job,” said William “you didn’t break a single one!” “I am a good dishwasher,” she said. Argus came out of his workshop and sat down at the table with a sigh. “What’s the matter? “ said Eliza “did you not dream of a fantastic clockwork creation to work on today? “I dreamed a magnificent dream!” said Argus glumly. “I dreamed of a mechanical little man who would tell the funniest jokes every hour.” He sighed heavily. “But I don’t even know if it is possible!” “Yes,” said William. “You are such a good clockworker, you should make sure your time is spent wisely.” They sat around the table, eating the same thing that they had eaten the day before. The next day, people traveled to see what Argus had been building in his workshop, and saw his tools sitting lonely in the corner. They came to the door to see what was the matter. “Why is Argus not at work? Is there something wrong?” they murmured to each other as Argus shuffled to the door, still in his pajamas. “Did you not have a magnificent dream last night?” they asked him. “I dreamt last night of a clock that would make you breakfast, and wake you with the tastiest coffee at the just the right temperature to drink,” he sighed. “What a fantastic dream!” cried the people. “That would be a marvelous invention!” and they clapped and rubbed his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I have been assured this is impossible. Later today I shall perhaps make a simple clock that tells the time.” Argus shuffled back to bed “I wish I would dream some possible dreams,” he muttered as he covered his head with a pillow. The people outside puzzled with this idea, and went home to tell their families that some dreams may not be possible. “OH NO!” cried Eliza. Argus came rushing in and found her weeping over a shattered dish on the tile floor. “It’s just a broken dish, Eliza! We have many more!” said Argus, as he held her hands. Eliza looked up, tears streaming from her face. “Oh, it’s just as I feared,” she wept. “I am not good at the dishes anymore! The dishes fill me with dread every morning. Trying to be the best dishwasher in the land is the hardest job I’ve ever done!” “Your performance has definitely fallen,” said William. “You must be more careful!” Eliza wept all the harder, and retreated to bed with her husband, leaving dirty dishes in the sink for the first time in years. (to be continued…)

Baubling Crows, ATCs by Rick Daddario

Suddenly a shriek exploded from the kitchen.

http://more19planets.blogspot.com

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How I Choose What I’m Going To Experience

That job I was doing was a last minute one, where a large landscaping company hired me to do quite a bit of work because they have a time crunch, and couldn’t get it done on time by themselves. So naturally I have to create truck troubles so I can add some of my own drama to this situation. My truck, by the way, has been the most trouble free vehicle I’ve ever owned. I had one full day of work to go until I was finished, and could easily get it done on the upcoming Monday, two full days ahead of the deadline. But with my truck acting up like it was, I didn’t know if it would just die and not start again. Then I couldn’t finish the job on time which would have been a disaster for me, or it would not die, and all would be smooth and happy.

by Mark Felder

I

’ve been creating a rather large set of weird and pleasantly happy creations for some months now. It’s where my passing casual thoughts manifest rather quickly. Events are occurring as I wish they would. For example: I decided I would not participate in the recession any more, and I’m having an absolutely fantastic business season. Not too long ago I created a new event in my life where my company trucks engine just dies while I’m driving it. It happens intermittently, with no warning or pattern to it. I know this is a manifestation of my concern for getting a current job done on time, but I had a doubt, and the doubt has manifested in this annoying way. One afternoon, after coming back from a job, the power in the house started doing the same thing. That was annoying too. Power on, then it goes off, then on again, then off, then on. It seems like the same problem manifests in various ways, but with the same effect.

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I couldn’t get the truck looked at by the dealer until that Wednesday, the deadline day. I guess it was because I needed to create some drama and stress. You see, my life truly is pretty much stress free, except for this new creation. My truck engine would just stop running while I was driving, and I decided I didn’t want to pay for it, but the truck is no longer under warranty. Still, I decided to create a probability where it didn’t cost me anything to get it fixed. Later, when I went to the dealer, it turned out that there was a recall for that very problem and Ford will foot the bill. It was a Friday night and I was back home. I had to do something to ensure I would be able to finish the job on time. I decided that I would choose the probability where my truck would run just fine so I could finish the job on Monday. Monday arrived and when I drove to work on that job, the truck ran perfectly. No problems. The previous Thursday and Friday it had been dying five or six times within a 20 minute drive. Its very stressful when the engine unexpectedly dies on me as I’m driving. I’m pulling a very heavy trailer with my equipment on it, and when the engine dies, I loose the power steering, power brakes, and of course drive power while on the highway in traffic. So right after choosing the new stress-less probability of no truck problems, I felt myself actually sliding sideways out of that probability where the truck engine dies all the time and right into the one I chose. I could sense how this new probability was without any upcoming truck troubles. That Monday morning just before I left home, I looked forward in time and saw a very pleasant day ahead of me, and it turned out that way.


When I looked forward into that Monday, I saw me finishing the job without a single glitch. And heres the really cool part; just to my right, I could sense the other probability just hanging there in space. The one where my truck broke down and I couldn’t finish the job on time. It was almost physically tangible, so much so I could almost reach out and touch it. The entire weekend through Wednesday morning when I had my appointment with the truck dealer for the repair, that probability sat there right in front of me and to my right. And the entire time my truck ran perfectly. When I parked it in the dealers lot I felt myself slide right back into the troubled truck probability. It was OK, because now it was to be repaired. When the mechanic went to get my truck it died on him as he was pulling it in the garage, he told me later. The thing about that situation was that I knew I could slide right back into that other probability at any time if I wanted to. It was literally being held off to the side by my thoughts. It was like driving on a four lane highway, and I was in the left lane. Right next to me, in the right lane was that troubled truck probability. It was right there as big as life the whole time. A very minor change of the direction of my thoughts and I would be right back in it. How I got to this point, where I can sense the energy and form of different probabilities, and often choose one over another has been though a series of meditations where I focus on the energy behind the probability itself. I focus on them until they feel as tangible as solid objects. When the meditations end, I can sense a greater awareness of the tangibility that probabilities have, and then choose several probability’s for my experiencing. I can actually feel them slide into place right in front of me. They seem to be almost as solid as a physical object would be. They have a very pronounced presence. These probabilities have the same set of qualities and energies that my current situation has. Not the circumstances part, as those are very different, but the ‘realness’ aspects of it. In other words, I can feel the probabilities wrapping themselves around me in a way that feels just as real and acceptable as my current situation is.

choices they have, (my competitors) and ask me to supply my services and then pay me. That’s the real business energy aspect I’m talking about. The physical objects that my business has associated with it, the machines and materials are all secondary constructs, as other things could be used in their place. The energy construct behind the business is very tangible and I can feel it as can others which is why they call me. The business is a series of probabilities, not a physical object, yet it has the properties of a solid physical object. It those kinds of feelings and energies that form the probabilities that I have been focusing on. Seth talks about this in various ways throughout his books, as do other spooks. I have always had a hard time putting that into practical use until I started this series of meditations focusing on just what those feelings and energies are that probabilities have. I’m getting closer to consciously locking in on the mind set that brings this about. Sometimes I’m very clear, as I was in my truck experience, and then it’s so easy to do. Sometimes I can’t get the mind set needed and things don’t work out so well. Yet I can tell, its all in my thoughts and what I allow them to do. My thoughts come first, then the events follow. Many of my instant manifestations are preceded with the thought: “It sure would be nice if…” and then I let it go. They are very casual passing thoughts. What I have become very much aware of is that during that thought process, I was locked directly on the energy and feeling behind those probabilities without always having to consciously make it a point to do so. In other words, the tangible part of it. The meditations are helping make this a natural subconscious act, which makes this seem effortless at times. Within all these probabilities, they have the same tangible realness of having a hot cup of coffee in front of me. I also have some sugar and cream available right there as well. I can add those things or not as they are probabilities. Its my choice and all I have to do is choose it or not. I can see them in my minds eye, sense them, and if I want, I can experience them or not.

For instance I have my business in which I spend a great deal of time actively pursuing. The business itself isn’t physical, but it’s a set of energies and probabilities that allow situations to occur in a particular framework. The business has physical objects associated with it. Its not the objects that form the business, but the energy construct behind it. This energy construct causes people to seek me out from amongst all the other probable

photography Tracy Marshall

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“The very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common. Instead of altering their views to fit the facts, they alter the facts to fit their views… which can be very uncomfortable if you happen to be one of the facts that needs altering.” Doctor Who

photography Tracy Marshall • http://stillwandering.multiply.com

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photography Tracy Marshall

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep.

Rumi (1207–1273) AUG.–SEPTEMBER 2009

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An Exchange

of Love by Madeleine Walker

M

ost people on the planet like to have a pet, and most find inexplicable comfort in the company of an animal from another species; many more recognise that we have a spiritual connection with them. An Exchange of Love, the philosophy taught by me, goes much further than that. I feel that our animal friends have often been with us through many incarnations, and that as our life long friends, they have access to parts of our subconscious that we ourselves are too technological to tune into. In this way, when an animal ’misbehaves’ to the point where the owner feels it necessary to summon my help , the communication with the pet, reveals traumas needing healing, not only in the animal, but also in the owner. In this way, the pet is able to ‘flag up’ a problem, deep-seated within their owner that they themselves might not even have been consciously aware of, until it’s brought to their attention.

photography by Cameron Walker

The words, ‘an exchange of love’, represent the one life form’s ability to heal the other. This form of communication works on many levels. First there is the one-to-one link between myself and the animal on a physical and mental level. All I feel at this point is a giving and receiving of overwhelming love. When trust is established, even the most apparently aggressive and dangerous animal, relaxes, and the communication begins. This can throw up a complicated entanglement of issues, from trauma experienced by the animal in this life, or a previous one, to health issues, to incidents that have happened to the owner while they were away, causing them to return home with negative energies attached to them which have been seen by the animals and triggered the misbehaviour, as they have reacted to it, to past life scenarios enacted with the same animal and same owner, that need to be revealed and healed.

Nicholas Whybrow

“A

s soon as I saw Lily I knew that I had to take her home with me. This might have seemed a strange decision given that she was full of anger. Her lady owner wouldn’t even go into the stable with her, but despite knowing she was ’trouble’, I felt a connection that wouldn’t let me walk away. I had to enlist Madeleine Walker’s help because despite remaining calm throughout my attempts to ride her and stop her violent attempts at biting, she just got worse, finally screaming when I tried to mount her. During this time I was still offered money for her, from people who reckoned they could ’sort her out’, but I knew what they meant by that and I couldn’t let it happen to her. I was sceptical about Madeleine being able to ’talk’ to Lily, but I was ready to clutch at any straws. I just couldn’t believe it when I saw Lily lower her Swimming With A Manta Ray Off Mexico

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head to Madeleine and act as soft as a baby. Madeleine said that Lily had been cruelly treated, and that she had severe back pain. This wasn’t a big surprise, but her letting Madeleine handle her, was. Lily had been very isolated from the other horses, but after Madeleine came I was able to turn her out with the others and she interacted peaceably with them for the first time. She came to me when I called her and accepted a carrot. I almost cried. She was quiet for the vet, and Madeleine told me to talk Lily through the rides we would go on, describing the things we would see. Finally, she told me Lily was ready to be ridden again, and although I was scared, Lily was a perfect angel.” I explained what was going on ‘behind the scenes, while Nick followed my instructions: I intuited that there were past life traumas left unresolved between Nick and Lily, which is why Nick felt compelled to buy her despite advice to the contrary. When Nick and I did regression work and I performed soul retrieval work on both of them, the issue was resolved. Nick worked really hard to visualise positive outcomes when he would be able to ride her again. I asked him to visualise all the wonderful routes they would take on their hacks, and then when it came to it Lily behaved beautifully, acting as though she knew exactly where she was going even though she had never experienced the routes before. A lot of Lily’s issues were pain orientated and her rearing was anticipation of pain, so again once this was addressed when she discovered that being ridden didn’t hurt any more. Recently one of Nick’s other mares had a foal and Lily looked so longingly at it that he just knew she wanted a baby of her own. So she’s now in foal, and a very happy and ‘chilled’ Mum-to-be, she is.

Denise Kitson

“I

called Madeleine Walker to see Neville, my skewbald yearling. He’d always been extremely affectionate and gentle with me and my husband, Graham. So, it was very distressing when Neville suddenly started to charge and attack Graham, for no apparent reason. Graham was always very gentle to Neville and there just didn’t seem to be any explanation for this dangerous behaviour. We’d got to the point where we thought we’d have to seriously consider selling our beautiful young horse, and were quite devastated. We asked all our friends for suggestions and came across some who recommended giving Madeleine a try. We really wanted her to come and talk to Neville, and find out why he suddenly seemed to detest having Graham anywhere near him! When Madeleine arrived Neville was prancing up and down the paddock and neighing at the top of his voice. Amazingly, Madeleine immediately knew that he was telepathically shouting, “It’s the dark man! It’s the dark man!” We didn’t have a clue what that could possibly mean. Madeleine was able to calm Neville down quite quickly, as he seemed to realise that at last someone was there who was able to understand what he was trying to say, and the two of them had quite a ‘chat’. Apparently, Neville was very agitated and told Madeleine that there was a problem with Graham’s left leg. Following Neville’s instructions, Madeleine asked Graham if he felt a strange sensation in his leg, and if he had changed jobs recently. Graham said, yes, he had been experiencing some strange sensations with his left leg, and yes he had recently changed jobs! I was totally amazed at the accuracy of the information Madeleine was getting from my horse.

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Neville then showed Madeleine a picture in her mind of Graham kneeling down and painting skirting boards. Graham was looking at bit pale at this point. I think he was really freaked out, but he said yes, he had been painting skirting boards in his work in the bedrooms of a nearby youth hostel. Madeleine then relayed a story from Neville. He described a boy of nine or ten years old who had been having a very difficult home life, and had been carrying a lot of negative energy from the actions of a dark skinned man. Graham said that there’d been some respite children staying at the hostel, and that they would most have had very difficult childhoods. Neville then showed Madeleine that Graham had somehow picked up the negative energy from the boy, and it had attached itself to his left leg. It seemed that Neville didn’t have anything against Graham after all, and was trying to attack the negative energy not him. It was totally surreal, standing there having this four way conversation with a horse! Madeleine worked with Neville for a while and also removed dark energy and with it the tingling pain in Graham’s leg, which had totally disappeared by the next day. Then Graham had to pluck up the courage to trust her, going into Neville’s paddock, where previously he’d been attacked quite savagely. Incredibly, Neville was completely back to his old self, just as gentle and cuddly as ever. Graham had never been very open to ‘energies’ or anything vaguely ‘alternative’, but took it really well and was extremely pleased that he could resume his loving relationship with Neville. I was very impressed with the way Madeleine was able to communicate with Neville, and when she’d finished working on him and Graham, I just casually asked if there was anything she could do to help our lovely Rakuschki dog to have puppies, as we’d been trying unsuccessfully to mate her for a number of years. She’d soon be too old to conceive and endure the rigours of whelping, so time was running out. The vet had found no physical reason for her not to be able to get in pup, so we were at a loss as to why she hadn’t become pregnant during our many attempts to find her a suitable doggy husband! Madeleine spoke to my dog and asked her why she wasn’t able to have puppies, turned to me and asked, “What happened to you during the birth of your son?” I told her that I’d had a very long and difficult labour, which had out me off having any further children. As I spoke the words, and the truth that I’d been keeping locked inside for years, I got quite emotional about it, and realised how bad I still felt. Madeleine told me that I was still carrying all the shock and trauma, and discomfort of the pregnancy around with me, so it wasn’t any wonder that my dog, who could sense my feelings, didn’t want to get pregnant herself! Madeleine recommended that I spoke to a friend of hers who was a homeopathic vet and would give us both some remedies, to release my trauma and encourage Rakuschki to come round to the idea of having puppies. Madeleine then worked on her at a distance for a while, easing her fear of motherhood. Several months later I was called to another yard to visit some horses, only to be greeted with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a lovely thank you card from Denise! Unbeknownst to me this client was a friend of Denise’s and had mentioned that I was calling. Denise had sent the flowers for me. When I opened the card, no written message was necessary. Inside were some photographs of the gorgeous dog I’d helped, with her two beautiful puppies.

An Exchange of Love, continued on next page


An Exchange of Love, continued from page 29

I am a fish Wenn ich im Wasser bin, bin ich Wasser.

This communication between species has even greater implications, because I have discovered that when I interact with wild animals, or animals that we have unnaturally kept in captivity, I receive information from them about the health and healing on the entire planet. I have swum with dolphins, whale sharks, manta rays and hump-back whales in the wild and made extraordinary discoveries about myself and the environment. One hump-back whale in particular brought me amazing understanding and healing. I was so in awe of the whales presence and sound whilst swimming with them, that I didn’t get huge dynamic ’downloads’ of information, but later in my bunk whilst they were all around our boat at night, I received profound clear insights into the akashic records (the records of all life and our soul journeys) and my own self belief systems. One message in particular was from the mother of the baby whale, who so was so trusting and generous with her time. She showed me an image of an ant, seemingly scurrying around completely randomly on its own. She told me that was how I had sometimes felt—quite isolated and separated from the ‘whole’. She reminded me that ants work as a team, and size for size had the strength to move mountains, if they joined together and worked with the colony to create a safe environment. She told me I had to remember that I was a very important component working for the whole, as indeed we ALL are. I also asked her about the akashic records as I had been told that the whales were the record keepers of this knowledge. She said that we all had that wisdom in our hearts, and all we had to do is to unlock them to gain access to the information. I felt quite bereft when I left the whales, and hugely emotional. I had to take some ’timeout’ for contemplation on the enormity of my experiences with these incredible creatures. If you have a problem that you think I could help you with, I am available for private one-to-one readings, both in person and remotely by using your pet’s hair sample and photo. Workshops, clinics and private consultations for people and animals, are possible by arrangement. I now run workshops and courses internationally; anyone interested in organising workshops in their country can contact me to discuss the possibilities.

Separation is difficult for me to express—to become aware of my individuality is the greatest challenge in this focus. So—my field of exploration now is: who am I. I know, I am a you of you. I know, you are a me of me. Where is the difference? The difference is my focus of attention—the moments, my automatic attention is with you, I am You. That is not bad, not sad, not wrong. It is my choice. An automatic choice. The Ocean teaches me—the rest of the day I perceive reflections of what the Ocean just told me. There are already hundreds of points of references, points of evidence, points of recognition of me being the me in this focus—the automatics are automatic, challenging to unfold them, challenging to become aware of them. And I make it easy for myself to discover: it is almost an ‘either–or’: Am I the moth or am I the flame. My goal: cooperation with another flame: Dancing in the dark, dancing in all shades of grey, in the light with another flame. All my senses tell me … I am close to a new experience.

Madeleine’s new book entitled “An Exchange of Love… animals healing people in past, present and future lifetimes” is published by O Books and distributed by NBN books in the USA For more info: http://www.anexchangeoflove.com Email: madeleine@anexchangeoflove.com

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Sasa at the Java Jungle, Ocean Beach, San Diego CA


Getting Out Of My Own Way by Bill Marshall

http://createwhatyouwant.blogspot.com

B

ecause of time we live in an apparent reality of processes to which we have attached the belief of cause and effect. If there is an effect we believe there has to be a cause and visa versa. This is a really big belief, and much of the time it serves us pretty well, unless, of course, you’re falling out of a tree. Processes are not the impediment to creating what we want, nor is cause and effect. The impediment lies in all the associations we attach to process and cause and effect. Associations generate judgment and expectations. We hold expectations regarding how a process SHOULD unfold and how long it SHOULD take to unfold. Let’s say I break my leg. It doesn’t matter how. I’ll bet you an economic recovery that most of us have certain expectations regarding what the process of healing should look like. These are all belief driven. We go to the hospital. They take X-rays. They find a fracture. They cast the leg. A few months later they take off the cast and tell us to go easy. This is an easy one, for we generally do not get in our own way. Everything goes according to expectations. We’re comfortable with the process… most of the time. We TRUST, that by following doctor’s orders, the leg will heal. It may be inconvenient, but pretty much the leg healing is a done deal. If you want to heal your broken leg in one day then you will have to deal with all the beliefs involved in the process mentioned above. So let’s stay away, for now, from these on-the-spot creations because you can’t just think them into existence. Why does the leg heal in the example given? Because we trust that it will based on the experience of others and ourselves that have established association in our body consciousness. We allow the process to unfold without our interference and the body responds to our beliefs. This is all completely without thought, for thought is not necessary. We trust in the process as long as the process unfolds according to expectations. But, let’s examine a trickier problem. Since the economy is in the crapper, let’s look at someone who has been laid off and is looking for a job. All of the beliefs attached to getting a new job can be tossed in the garbage if we trust (have no doubt) that we will get a new job. To hold that trust, which is a deep knowing, we must LET GO of our expectations regarding how the process will unfold and when the process will be completed. Let’s say we have enough cash on hand to get us through two months of unemployment. The problem here is the beliefs that creep in as we approach the seventh week and still don’t have a job. Those beliefs begin to create doubt, which opposes the trust that you will get a job. Here is where you begin opposing yourself.

This is how we get in our own way. We start out with trust and follow the process of searching for a job. We submit fi fty applications and have ten interviews. We expect to get a job… but, we have a time frame in which we expect it to appear. We have placed a condition on the want. This is where we trip up. TIME. As we approach the eighth week we begin thinking, “Did I submit enough applications?” “Did I come off well in the interviews?” “Was there something I should have said, but didn’t?” “Am I too old?” “Am I too young?” Our minds will come up with numberless reasons why we have not been called as the deadline of eight weeks nears. At this point we have lost trust. For those of us who have incorporated the Elias information we might begin the NIRAA (notice, identify, recognize, address, accept) exercise. This is a method and we are a race of folks that has been hypnotized into believing we need a method in order to accomplish. I was a part of this huge club and it is a club whose founding member is the belief in cause and effect. The instant we begin using a method we begin to corrode trust. Why? The instant we projected the want it was created. If it was already created and you fully trusted that it was then why employ a method? I’m not talking about process here. Process is what we did to heal our broken leg and process involves time. We are involved in processes constantly and rarely engage our thinking to create what we want. For instance, we turn our ignition key and the car starts. We eat food and it nourishes our body. We don’t go to thinking about beliefs and what am I doing right or what am I doing wrong. It’s automatic and without thought or method. We don’t get in the way of ourselves. We DO get in the way of ourselves when we don’t trust that what we want will manifest itself. Quit checking in on the process. See yourself as already having the job. Let go of the want and grab hold of the have. Want projects lack and that will be the energy projected. Kimi, on the Elias forum I visit regularly, likened checking in to baking a soufflé. She said, “If you open the oven, the cake deflates. You leave it alone and it bakes. You can’t keep opening the oven every minute. You’ll ruin it and it will never get done. You have to be patient and that timer will let you know when it’s done.” Elias might change ‘patient’ to ‘allow’, but we all knew what Kimi meant. WANT, TRUST, ALLOW, MANIFEST WANT, TRY, CHECK IN, WANT, TRY, CHECK IN, WANT, TRY, CHECK IN… HAMSTER WHEEL.

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Lessons from the Animal by Valerina Brookes

E

Kingdom

arlier this year I felt drawn to learning and understanding how to communicate with animals after having experienced some close encounters with animals which seemed ’magical’, but I was unable understand the meaning of these ‘encounters’.

Our morning session went well, as we discussed the animal ‘totem’ card that we had each picked, and their symbolic meanings. We also did a meditation that was incredibly powerful for me and linked in part to the card that I had chosen.

One day whilst having lunch in a local cafe with my husband I spotted a leaflet that advertises green and alternative events in the Devon and Cornwall area. I noticed an advert for an animal communication course and after checking that the price was affordable I made a note to call the number to talk about the workshop and to see if it was something that would suit me. I tried the telephone number several times unsuccessfully but did not leave my name and number; I didn’t feel comfortable doing this—not normally a problem for me. I then decided to look on the Internet to see what I could find and after nosing around the workshop leader’s site I decided that this particular workshop was not for me but I was very interested in someone who had been mentioned on the website—another animal communicator. I went straight to the site and after reading her details and experiences I immediately felt that this was the ‘place’ for me. I looked at the workshop details and spotted one in Portugal in June and promptly sent various emails to see if there was space for me. I got the ok from the owner of the B&B who was hosting the workshop at her home and she turned out to be a semi-retired Medium called Zena, and so we had some interesting conversations!

On a more personal note, I had an interesting encounter with another of Zena’s cats during our morning session. The cat is called ‘Monster’ because of her sometimes erratic behaviour. She startled me as she came into the room by rushing underneath my chair. Minutes later she settled at my feet in a very gentle manner. I was wary of her, but I took no notice until Madeleine suddenly said “She’s got a message for you” and proceeded to mention a past life, and my association with cats at that time.

On arrival in Portugal I was met by a friendly taxi service who drove me to The House of Swallows near Moncarapacho. I arrived just before the beginning of the last day of another group who were doing the same course. I was introduced to Madeleine, the animal communicator running the workshops. I immediately felt very comfortable with her, just as I had whilst reading her website. We had a quick exchange of ‘hellos’ and ‘how are you’s, and I then made myself comfortable outside while their workshop got underway. I joined in the lunch with everyone and had fun talking to the students about why they had come on the course, and what their feelings were so far. Some of them had struggled a bit because they had not been involved in basic metaphysics before, but were open to having a go because of their love for their pets and animals. When it was time for the students to leave everyone had big smiles and chatted amiably, wishing me good luck and saying that I would enjoy it. This added to my feelings of joy that I was where I needed to be, and that I would enjoy the workshop at whatever level was right for me. The next morning I was upbeat and ready to go, and as the other students arrived it felt wonderful to meet new people and to sense a warmth and familiarity with them. We had to watch out for ‘Shadow’, one of Zena’s cats, as she liked re-arranging pens and paper, and I actually saw her doing this during my stay!

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Our afternoon session was a mixture of things including ‘dowsing’ for answers to questions about ones pet or one of the animals present in the room. We worked in pairs to dowse with pictures and with samples of your pet’s hair. I did enjoy it, but felt slightly awkward: I do not have a pet of my own, and therefore my partner had to work from pictures of the animals I had encountered earlier in the year. I felt my partner did very well in using her intuition, and said something about one of the animals that I felt was very uncanny, as I had felt drawn to writing a story about this animal, and part of that story was a link to what had been said to me… We all enjoyed the various animal stories that Madeleine regaled us with, and the variety of experiences that she has had. As day one drew to a close, one of the students who had been struggling throughout the day, and had been given a lot of encouragement by Madeleine, said she would think about whether she would come back the next day, as the workshop content and language was totally unfamiliar to her and not part of her belief system. At all times she was supported to be herself and to accept what was right for her, which was very refreshing to hear and experience. Day two, another hot sunny day and the day when students could bring their pets! The student who had been struggling turned up and was greeted by all of us, particularly for coming back and seeing it through. She explained that the pet she was having trouble with (hence the reason for coming) had actually behaved differently, more open to physical contact that evening when she returned from the course. We all hoped that it was the work that she had attempted to do and the loving thoughts passed onto this pet. During the morning session we were graced with the presence of ‘Tiger’, another of the cats who liked to just wander in have a look and wander off. This time he came in and Madeleine told us that he had told her to get on with the meditation that we were about to do. Then he promptly leapt onto on her


lap, and after being stroked for a while, he spread out on her lap and proceeded to give her messages for each of us! It was amazing because every message seemed to be very pertinent to the person that was receiving the message. My message was that I would write a book about human and animal relationships, which made me smile, as I have been wanting to find a writing course in order to give me the confidence and courage to write stories. I have no formal training, and it is a way that I would like to express my creativity. I certainly had not discussed this with Madeleine and therefore she had no prior knowledge. After his wonderful messages, Tiger promptly got up and wandered off to the nearest sofa. We then had a meditation where we were to meet our Power animal. Again, it was a very powerful experience for me, although I was unable to share with the group as I felt very emotional—but happy! We worked outside in the afternoon with our fellow students’ pets, and one of Zena’s dogs. We studied animal chakras; dowsed with our pendulums looking for any perceived ‘inbalances’ ; and to see if we could see what the colours were, and clear the imbalances wherever possible. Everyone in the group left with big smiles on their faces, with some wanting to know when Madeleine would return for the next stage of the course. I thoroughly enjoyed the workshop. I met some lovely people and had fun with the animals. I felt that I had received the basic techniques in animal communication, and that there is certainly a lot more to be learned, along with getting some practice in! Madeleine is a warm, funny, kind-hearted person who is a very positive facilitator and is passionate about her work and is committed to doing her best for animals, people and the planet. My stay at Zena’s home was very relaxing; she and her husband Richard worked hard to make it as comfortable as they possibly could. A week or so after my return, I emailed one of the ladies whom I had partnered and had felt very comfortable with, and in her reply she told me about Wisp e-magazine, and how she had been asked to write an article about her experiences at the workshop. She felt writing wasn’t for her, though, and asked if I would be interested. Well, I did laugh at the synchronicity and said that I would think about it. I thought about it and what ‘Tiger’ had said and decided hey, give it go, you have nothing to lose and a lot to gain in self-confidence if nothing else so… ‘Thanks’ TIGER!

For further details on Animal Communication Workshops: anexchangeoflove.com—Madeleine Walker Also you can check Zena’s website for accommodation details: www.ownersdirect.co.uk/portugal/P7025.htm or www.spiritualretreatalgarve.com Zena & Richard Camp

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Zoo Keeper for a Day, by Vicki

http://vickisartisticlicense.blogspot.com


My name is Begoña, I’ve been an artist for as long as I can remember. Right now I am exploring new energy art, which has turned out to be really easy and joyful instead of the old struggling ways. In this lifetime I decided to experience the process of my consciousness awakening, which is what my book and workshops are mostly about, as I am sharing with others what I am discovering. I was born in South Africa, though I’ve been living in Spain since I was nine. I have been through a lot of experiences and challenges in this life, and I realized that it is so much easier when you let go of the worrying and you just trust yourself, and of course love yourself and put yourself in the center of your life. I didn’t make it the easy way, but it was my way. I spent half my life trying to fi t in, just to realize that I didn’t want to. There is so much more to life. The reason I would like to share my experience with others is just for them to know that it can be done, that ultimately everyone will go through it sooner or later; for many it may take several lifetimes, and that it is a natural process for humanity. The other reason is that as I feel it, there is a huge change taking place right now in human’s consciousness and there has already been a change of energy going from the old energy based on duality, to what I call ‘new’ energy that serves the creator within us, the god within —our souls or whatever you want to call it. But surely the main reason is for people to know that many of us have already been through that process and we know the challenges, sadness, fears and emotional stress that it takes to get through it, though we also know that everything will be OK, that it’s natural, even though it doesn’t always seem like that. My book and art talks more about the feelings that you go through than about the particular situations you may be in, because everyone will live this process their own way. However, the feelings are more or less the same.

While I’m asleep dreams talk to me, when I’m awake they say my name. Deep inside something starts to awake, and I know everything will be ok. Excerpt from the illustrated book In the Ocean of My Consciousness, by Begoña Landi Pienaar, p. 6

Begoña Landi Pienaar •

www.becreations.jimdo.com

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Conversations With Amnon II by Amnon Keinan Until some fifteen years ago, I didn’t know and didn’t believe that such a source of information as Amnon II existed, or that such communication was at all possible; such that it is like a relative who knows me so well, and is so intelligent. I was familiar with my own way of thinking and the thoughts of others.

How it all began I was in an emotionally difficult period. At the time I was in the procedures of divorce that for whatever reasons were a lasting torture and were going slowly. I had been fired from work and lived in a rented room in a family home. One day a brown envelope, one among many I received carrying the official ’state of Israel’ stamp arrived in the mail. The envelope was linked to the procedures I was going through. I sat in my room, and felt a wave of desperation and misery flooding me. In my heart I said to myself that I don’t understand what benefi t our courts earn in these situations. Is there anyone winning in that situation? And while I was sitting musing over it, feeling miserable and a victim, I suddenly heard a noiseless question passing through my head or heart. The question was: “Say, how would you feel about this issue in thirty years from now?” The question itself was very much surprising but yet I didn’t spend too much time before replying in my heart: “In thirty years time I’ll be laughing at all this!”, and as far as I was concerned this weird thing was a closed issue. But this asker that I didn’t know and didn’t realize who he was, continued asking: “Then why don’t you begin with it now?” I decided to follow that recommendation. In that moment a smile came to my face and a sense of confidence and a feeling of a positive solution encompassed me. I didn’t understand who or what was ‘talking’ to me but I felt a pleasant and good feeling. I didn’t devote too much thought to either the source of the ideas, to their value or to any other matter associated with it. And how amazing it was. The next day a letter canceling the previous brown envelope message arrived and all of a sudden things begun to run on a track that led to a fast and positive solution of the whole process, and my smiles grew bigger. I didn’t continue to dedicate any more thought or emotion to the asker of these key questions, that “who” or “what” inside of me. This “advisor” also didn’t visit me each and every day. And generally who can come up with the idea that inside him there is a “confidential advisor,” one that is wise, clever, so human, has a sense of humor and has such a broad knowledge of so many areas? A normal human being would never “buy” words of an inner secret whisperer. As years went on I sometimes recalled the story and realized that in fact this advisor helped me and led me to another route. Since that time I didn’t “hear” from him for years.

Just a few years ago and in a totally different association another conversation was going on between me and him, and this time my spouse was present. She and I were talking about desires and wishes. She was asking me questions and I was replying. Suddenly following one of her questions and my reply, I “heard” or felt a sequel, a noiseless question from inside me. I told my spouse the question and it’s source. “I feel a question coming up inside me, and the question is…”; and then I told her my answer. And here comes another question from inside me… And another reply, and I described it all to her. Two long hours passed this way while “he” and I were talking; I repeated his questions to my spouse, and my answers, all the while she laughed and laughed. Even then it didn’t occur to me that there would be more, or that there was any connection to the old short discussion ten years previously. The next day I decided to type it all down on my computer since it was so unique and wise and I didn’t want to lose it. Then I decided to sit at my computer, open a new fi le and call him, to see what would happen. That’s what I did and from that point the continuation developed. I named that internal secretive voice, Amnon 2nd or Amnon II. As months and years passed Amnon II expanded his touch in my life. As times passed I trusted him more. This friend of mine confronted me with many hard and painful questions. More than once his words and recommendations generated a kind of “shock” and tremor in me. At each moment I could stop and disconnect myself from him and any time I turned to him newly, there he was for me and responded immediately, always for the good, always supporting and encouraging. More than once I was angry with my “advisor”. He described me to myself as if I was the kind of personality that had positive values and abilities I totally wasn’t familiar with, that I didn’t know and didn’t believe. More than once I stopped our conversations for some time simply since I couldn’t bear the nonsense it seemed he was talking. But with time my trust and confidence and love of him —and me— begun to build. It took me time to learn to identify the differences between solutions that were “my own” and those coming from Amnon II. One thing was and is for sure; his words are forever positive, helping and supporting. I always found love towards me, encouragement, humor. Sarcastic remarks, mockery, anger, insult, disregard and the like are not to be found in the lexicon of that Amnon. I asked: How can I prove that it really is “someone else” talking, recommending, guiding? His answer: I cannot and I don’t try to. continuing on next page

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Conversations with Amnon II, continued from page 35 What are the differences between him and me? In one sentence, I have never thought like him! I have never responded like him! The contents of his words are always positive and to my good. Never in his words there is any matter for his own interest. The same goes with any of his ideas or proposals that might hurt anybody else —meaning never. “He” doesn’t “shout” but speaks peacefully and with tranquility and confidence. Amnon II never goes into and never deals with long range planning. His “issue” is with what’s going on now or in the near future. In any case and with any idea he raises, his presentation is based on complacency, not under pressure, not based on urgency or feeling that “If you don’t take my advice now then it is forever lost.” How much do I really put the advice I receive from him to the test? Each and every idea and advice I took from him and applied, yielded a good and positive result. There truly were cases where I couldn’t apply his ideas but that was only because my world view wasn’t quite healthy and matured. The more I develop my listening talent to his words, the more I waive the old methods and tools I’m familiar with and adopt his ways to mine. Today I’m a hundred percent sure that each and every one among us has such an advisor. The most amazing thing is that this advisor, Amnon II, is in me. In my heart. With me. And always for my good only. I find it a must to note an important book that served as a support and aid tool for me in this magnificent adventure. It is called “Listening” by Lee Coit.

A Conversation With Amnon II November 19 2008 A: What are we going to discuss today? Q: I want to prepare a preface for the book and I want you to say some words too. A: I accept. You write first and later I will add my own. Q: OK. The book is called: Perhaps Things Were Never Such. Listen, Amnon. I don’t feel I’m focused enough now in order to produce something that is built and organized. Perhaps you write now and I would write mine later on ? A: Agreed. The things that we, Amnon the first —the key player— and me, Amnon II both bring are in the “head” and heart of each and every human being, every man, every woman. Each and every one is directing internal conversations in their hearts, trying to manage various challenges they face. The absolute majority of people choose, to begin with, to reject and dismiss ideas that come up in their hearts. Those people absolutely do not believe that in their hearts or heads there “lives” a wise, intelligent and always available advisor whose only wish and will is to be of help. Amnon the first is not unique in this aspect. Each and every man or woman has an advisor like me. Every one can choose the name they give their advisor. But every one must listen;

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must learn to listen to the heart sounds, to the “whispers” in their heart and examine the possible benefi t when applying the recommendations given by those advisors. I represent and come from a dimension found exactly above the physical dimension and hence my perimeter of “view” is wider and bigger than that of Amnon. The variety of subjects and fields in which I hand Amnon advice is very wide. Amnon can choose to listen and let his heart connect with the ideas and solutions I suggest, and he can as well choose to reject those and keep with the way he goes. Our book is not a romantic story. This book obliges the reader looking for answers, to make an effort. The reader has to examine both the ideas we serve here, and the possibility (which for Amnon is a fact) that he is not alone, but that he has an advisor who is loyal, dedicated, knows what’s what and one who has an original thinking pattern. Science still isn’t accepting my existence and reality in a clear and unequivocal way but modern physics recently shows the intellectual flexibility allowing it and man in general to notice the connection between body and mind, notice the reality creation capabilities and develop test and examination mechanisms. The Quantum theory points explicitly to these issues and to the mandatory bond between those. Modern medicine too becomes opened in this direction. I leave the choice and the decision to accept the ideas served here or to reject those outright, with the hands of the reader. Readers rejecting these things not yet officially and fully sealed or stamped, might face various problems. The old world for instance, claimed that the earth was flat and Columbus proved it to be wrong. Brothers Wright “invented” a plane. Their father claimed that if God wanted man to fly then he would equip them with wings. Many are the people who’ve overcome chronic illnesses by using soul forces activated in the proper time, even though medical science wasn’t capable of managing the illness; nor it was able to issue any explanation to the healing. In short, not all that a man accepts as true (or as not true), stands on rock solid and sound ground. Personal knowing, deep and strong gut feelings, internal conversation between a man and his heart and other examples indicate to the existing connection between the absolutely normal human being and his higher self. I wish the readers of this conversations’ compilation happiness, success, health, abundance and each and every additional blessing any of our readers choose to wish themselves. I, am with you, the reader. And here too, as I’m used to, I pose a question. Are you with you as well? May you have a bon voyage. Hit the road. You have a partner second to none. No one is better than him. My blessings. Amnon II


And you my dear, would you raise your word now ? Q: Well this wasn’t just a “launch". This is a real speech. Do you think people would be convinced by what you raised ? A: Come add your own words and then our launch would have a much higher and stronger value to it. Those who want would find help and support. Those who reject it are right. It is not for them. Q: Hi to the reader. When I now look back at my last ten years I see and feel I’ve come a very long way, and today I’m standing in a place of pride, happiness, pleasure and growing self confidence. A long time ago I thought, believed and “knew” I was an exception, problematic, lacking self confidence, not “normal”. I didn’t believe I would reach far. And I didn’t find myself real human support. Let me remark that knowing myself to be not “normal” had a practical advantage to it, since it led me to search for someone or something who would help me become a “normal” human being. For more than ten years I visited shrinks but didn’t arrive at a better place. So for all that, a wise, real and loving advisor would come up within me ? My advisor began the connection with me with ease, in small doses, with humor. He never hurt me. Always spoke and talked to the positive. Encouraged me to believe in myself. He never raised a demand saying I should believe in his existence but suggested I would examine the ideas, the ways, the methods. Amnon II taught me to realize and feel that I deserve. I deserve good. Never before in my life had I considered such an idea or thought. Perhaps things were never such? Perhaps I never was an exception at all? Problematic? Lacking self confidence? Perhaps I only didn’t have the proper tools? Perhaps I only didn’t know how to refer to myself and to the world? Perhaps I simply didn’t know that I was allowed to, that it was my right and my obligation to love myself and that there was no bad in it? Perhaps I didn’t know any better? Many are the “Perhaps” questions one can raise. My conversations with Amnon II are usually done via my computer; an idea, thought, or question comes up in my mind and when I begin to type it, then reactions, answers, ideas and recommendations begin to pour. I type those too. But even randomly while traveling, in the shower, in bed and in fact every where, in every situation, I may have those conversations. People might generate communication with their higher self in various ways. I bless the reader and wish him and her success in their communication with their higher self and in every field. Because every one deserves.



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Robotman’s Energy Exchange by Rob Arteman

R

obotman: So, getting back to our last conversation, how do I align with an alternate probable past?

GOOFENOFF: Provide an example.

Robotman: Well… when I was a freshman in high school, I had an experience that I’d like to alter.

GOOFENOFF: Very well. Do you feel this is affecting of you

within the present moment?

Robotman: Yeah, I believe it is. GOOFENOFF: Continue.

Robotman: I was in math class and it was test day. I was working on a particularly difficult problem when I discovered I was heading in the wrong direction for the solution. I was getting frustrated and while trying to use the eraser I ripped one!

GOOFENOFF: Your work paper?

Robotman: No, I… ummm… passed gas! GOOFENOFF: Understood. Now as it is quite obvious that

you were attempting to draw your attention away from your exam and redirect it towards yourself within the present. It seems that you also captured the attention of the rest of your classmates as well.

(Laughs)

Robotman: Yeah, and that’s not all. It also seemed to

be somewhat pungent. I can only describe it as sort of taking on a life form of its own. Seemed like it decided to stay and live there or something. The teacher attempted to light several candles. Upon lighting the last one, there was a minor explosion. This set off the fire alarms and we had to evacuate! My teacher explained what happen to the other faculty just before the Fire Department arrived. The Vice Principal announced what had happened over a bullhorn to calm everyone down.

GOOFENOFF: Laughs! A flatulent life form!

Robotman: Yeah, I think his name was Chuuuuuuuuuuck!

When the TV crew arrived, things seemed to be calming down somewhat. My classmate’s commented to the reporter about their experiences.

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Session 4 GOOFENOFF: So, you are wanting to align with a different probable

past of this experience to alter what presently?

Robotman: To lessen some hardships that resulted from the

experience. I’d like to mend my friendship with my fellow classmates, especially my friend Ben that was sitting behind me and suffered whiplash and a broken arm when he flew out of his chair, and my friend Tom who permanently lost some facial hair and lost some hearing in his left ear from the explosion. There was a really nice foreign exchange student who had to be institutionalized for the remainder of his time in America. Even though we didn’t have to pay for the damage to the school, it was a great strain on my parents just the same. Although I sensed some pride from my father! Moving to a different location helped my brothers and I a great deal. The other reason is because that experience has limited me in my profession. As a electronics design engineer, I’m expected to apply mathematics in many areas of design. I am only able to successfully do any of my math problems within a restroom stall! I, to this day, still have eraser nightmares! Not to mention that there’s nose scarring which limits my breathing!

GOOFENOFF: Was there anything from this experience that you can perceive as beneficial? (He’s now ROTFLHAO!)

Robotman: Well, I did notice before we moved away that the bullies

that used to pick on me and my brothers ran whenever they saw us. There were improvements added to the schools ventilation systems. A parental organization formed to promote home and online schooling. Every school desk was equipped with oxygen air masks like on airplanes.

GOOFENOFF: While it may be difficult to alter a perceived past

expression without discounting it, I say screw this! Let’s change this one! Now your reason for aligning with a different probability is to alter the present. When the present is experienced in a manner that aligns with your choice of alternate experience, the past, so to speak, will have altered to match or align with the present experience supported by your expressed beliefs. You begin with accepting yourself within the present in a manner which aligns with yourself that did not have that experience. You do not attempt to ignore that you had that experience. You simply allow yourself to view the experience differently as the person would that chose a different expression. The key is to not fight your thoughts and feelings that are strongly expressed within you. Any struggle against any aspect of the older experience empowers it to continue being expressed within the present.


You allow yourself to view it as one possible experience and you are choosing to explore a different probable experience. Therefore, in this present experience it didn’t happen, so you would have no trouble calling your friend Tom, just make sure you speak into his right ear! (Laughs) And in acceptance of all probabilities as being equal and in accepting that Tom may have still had some experience which was affecting of him, he will view it differently if you are projecting an energy that is different however. You do not create other individuals realities and their experience may be similar to the one you no longer align with. Therefore, you will not interact with the same Tom but the Tom which chose the probability matching closely with the one you have chosen. Are you understanding?

Robotman: Ummmm, not really! GOOFENOFF: Me neither! After hearing

myself say it, it sounds like a load of crap! So, just forget those losers, move on! So what if your doing math in the crapper! What? You’ve got standards or something? So, is there anything else I can help you with?

Robotman: Yeah, can you help me alter a probable passed experience?

GOOFENOFF: Click!

Hmmm... Next time I guess. Those long distance charges must be huge!

photography by Sabine vom Hoff

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Crimson Guard, photography Grey Morgan

Dream

Within a Dream by Gordon Artrias Rosenberg

I

awaken from a dream to the realization that I am still dreaming. Not in the way we sometimes think we’re awake when we’re asleep. You probably know that experience: Like having a dream within a dream within a dream. This time, I really am awake and I know I am in a dream world at the same time. I’ve read and considered the possibility that this world is but a dream. Even know it on some level. But now I really know that my waking life is a dream; no different from the dreams I have in my head during the night, or the thoughts in my head during the day. I know this world is a dream and is always going to be a dream, no matter what I ever do. Does this mean it’s a mistake to be here? Does it mean we can’t accomplish anything here? No, it doesn’t mean this at all. It simply means that it may serve us if we learn to see this world as a dream reality, that it will be a dream as long as we’re here, and that this particular form of the dream will end as soon as we’re gone… just as our dreams at night are gone once we awaken. When one has such a realization, there comes often the knowing that once one awakens from the dream that most people believe is real, one can then become who one really is! One can then go on to live a life free of the old dreams, which may have formerly seemed so real.

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Once we let go of our “waking” dream, we can continue to live within the dream we call life, but with the full realization that there’s more to us than we see here. We can be all we are, without holding ourselves back. Once we let go of our “waking” dream, we can continue to live within the dream we call life, but with the full realization that there’s more to us than we see here. We can be all we are, without holding ourselves back. Once you learn to be your true self and not hold yourself back, you have very little to do or learn here, because this is the main reason we incarnate here—to learn who we are beyond the illusion of this place. You can go on being yourself and doing your work here, without fearing that you’re not good enough, that whatever you do isn’t enough, that you can’t be yourself, etc., etc. You can be you and stop holding back for any reason. Dreaming and being may both be parts of the same illusion. For instance, if you believe you’re dreaming when you’re awake, what’s happening when you’re really dreaming? Do you believe you’re dreaming so that you can awaken to your true self? I think so. I believe we’re all dreaming all the time; that it’s not necessary to dream one moment and be awake the next, but that our dreams in the night are as valuable a part of life as our waking dreams. I believe both are dream states which may be giving us valuable information about ourselves, and that we can process this information to learn more about ourselves. Once one learns this information, I believe both forms of the dream may fall away entirely. You may stop dreaming at


night, or whenever you believe yourself to be asleep. Your “sleeping state” dreams may be no more or less dreamlike than your “waking state” dreams. Do you see what I mean? Can you see how dreaming may be dreaming no matter when and how we experience it? What about the times when you feel awake and yet are still experiencing a dream state? This may occur soon after beginning to wake up from a night’s sleep, or during the day when “daydreams” seem to come and go. What’s so different between these states, and why worry about which is more real than the other? If it’s all a dream, we’re free to have whatever experience we want within the dream, and to grow and expand our consciousness as a result. Dreaming may be one of the best things we can do for ourselves, as long as we’re aware that we’re dreaming on some level. When you dream, you learn to imagine other possibilities. Eventually, you become aware that there are possibilities which far surpass limited human experience. It’s then that you can begin to imagine the unimaginable, to allow yourself to become your expansive and infinitely creative self. This is the place of our true origin and it’s our true destination. Imagine it and it can become real. But don’t stop with the imagining. Let yourself dream your new reality by waking up to the realization that you’re already that reality; that you can do whatever you want to create a beautiful and magical life —here or anywhere, dreaming or not. We may very well dream up this entire life; and not just the events of our lives, but the form within which all those events happen. When we accept that all may really be formless, we open to greatly expanded possibilities. Form and formlessness exist here simultaneously. You can’t be here without experiencing both at the same time. Form can be defined as “the physical context within which we live our lives.” I define formlessness as “that greater reality which includes all we see and experience, and a whole lot more we can never see or define but which we’re all part of.” We experience form in all we do here. When we’re ready, we also experience formlessness. We can learn to experience both form and formlessness at the same time. We can learn to sense form around us and know we’re living within some form of form, in order to maintain a sense of our own existence. We can learn to see and experience what we do, as merely expressions of the universal consciousness which operates here. We can see forms as no more real than anything we can’t experience here. We’re participating in worldly reality for a reason we can never fully know. Apparently, this world needs to maintain a sense its own existence, yet all the forms we see and know are only beliefs about the way things are. When you become fully aware that form is but an illusion, that it can go away or change, you see how you are complete without the need for any particular forms in or around you. Form is only a way of having an identity here, and you can go beyond the need for such identities. I had a dream recently in which a group of construction workers were building a large house. They were mixing up some kind of lightweight concrete-looking material for the basement walls, sort of a mixture of cement and gelatin. I realized that this material used to “form” the walls themselves was the same as the material used to make the “forms” in which the walls were poured. Both were completely malleable, and were being molded into the particular shapes and sizes necessary for each wall of the house.

I interpret this dream to mean that we not only create the events of our lives while we’re here, but we also help create the entire structure which oversees this place. That we’re both the creator and the experiencer, or at least that we’re an intrinsic part of the entire process. That we help to create this place as we go along, rather than being forced to fi t into a given structure, within which we must perform in some particular way. What then about our own individual identity? Do we need to have a particular identity to be here? Must we look at ourselves and our lives in a particular way? Is it wrong to have an identity at all? I believe that it’s not wrong, as long as we’re aware that an identity is only an illusion which serves us while we’re here, an identity which will no longer be part of us once we’re gone. This is where form and formlessness merge, as in my dream: Where you become aware that you’re both at the same time, and that you don’t have to hold onto either. That’s right; you don’t have to hold onto an idea of formlessness any more than you need to hold onto form. Formlessness is always with you. Why would you need to hold onto it? It’s always part of you. Formlessness is the true nature of your existence. You don’t need to hold onto it to know yourself. You can merge into formlessness and be who you are. You can identify with a particular vision or awareness of formlessness, of ultimate reality, as long as you need to, in order to maintain your identity as an expanded, formless being. Then, when you’re ready, you can let go even of formlessness, and become the indefinable being that you are. Dreams and formlessness are only concepts. Who knows what a dream really is? How does one dream? Where do dreams start and end, and where does life begin? Is it all a dream? Probably. But we don’t need to worry about any of this. Formless existence is as easy as saying “I go wherever I need, to be what I am.” Let that be enough. You are what you are, and you’ll always be it. You may change, since change is pretty much synonymous with this physical existence. But you’ll still be who you are. It’s to be that which we are and not worry about the details. Everything we don’t know will be handled some place in the universe. This is the nature of formless living; to be what you are, free of any worry that if you don’t do things just right, you won’t exist. You’ll always exist, in your truly formless form. Life here is not what we often think. Life is a dream, just like the dreams we have at night, except our eyes are open. When we really wake up to who we are, and we’re no longer dreaming, we awaken to so-called ‘higher possibilities’ and we learn to live with our eyes really open. May we all learn to have sweet dreams in all our waking states. Until next time, I wish you much light in your life!

Find out more about Gordon’s transmissions given from spirit with the intent of helping us live a more meaningful human life while ascending to our greater state of being. http://teachings.lightreport.org/

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It ENT No More

My Enchanted Garden • by KC Anneken

by aKuna Kumara

T

his morning I found two separate blogs in my inbox which created a reference to the story of The Hobbit which I first read in the early 1960’s. The book series is far more exciting than the wonderful movie Lord of the Rings. It was an adult fairytale that carried busy working people back to their childhood memories of a world that once existed which we could no longer partake. Some of the characters were the forest of the Ent Trees, huge Grandfatherly Oaks that were as frightening at first encounter as they were gentle upon knowing.

• The Elm Tree •

J The Hobbit, First edition’s cover • J.R.R. Tolkien (Wikipedia Commons)

Down the old wagon trail just past the barn and off to the left was where you could find the home of one such stately being who protected this property which I earth-keep. When opportunity arose to take a walk while hubby tended the children I often went to sit at the Ent’s feet to absorb his worldly awareness. He was a friend, a guardian protector and grandfather wrapped into one. His huge trunk, robbed of youth so many hundreds of years ago, was hollowed out of its more vibrant growth, and in it’s wake a huge family of honey bees filled his breast. Always too busy to notice one human so small, they flew their flight some twenty foot above my resting place. Years passed, the children grew and took their own flight and with it I lost the time to visit my old friend. One day a few years ago I ventured down the path in need of the love and strength I’d once shared from the Ent. My heart sank as I peered through the wood to find him sprawled on the ground devoid of his buzzing heart center. There were only ruminants of the wild honey and wax comb that once help hold grandfather Ent’s breast cage together. His arms that had reached so wide and spread in a welcoming hug lay bare of green sleeve, and his feet lay crumbled beneath the weight of his huge lifeless body. I could only rest my hands on his shoulders as my weight might have split him further, and my tears streamed remembering his grotesque stature that was so foreboding, yet while emanating abounding comfort. There lay grandfather sleeping, giving back to Mother Earth all she had given over the centuries that he stood so strong through the hundreds of seasons. Today when ever there is need for comforting wisdom I will still find myself sitting on the ground where his feet where once so firmly planted. So I was reminded from the inbox posts to go visit grandfather Ent and come away with a new bonding of the consciousness that still lingers.

ust this minute, in my little forest there was a tremendous crash and smash and boom and shiver! Did you feel it? Now many years ago there was a giant elm tree among the other trees in this forest, and after a hundred seasons or so, the elm tree spirit decided to go on different travels and so removed from our dimension, but he left his beautiful huge naked image in the forest for the great horned owl and the red-tailed hawk to perch on the highest branches. And the wood peckers made their nests in his wood and found food. The neighbors complained and complained that there was a big dead tree in my woods! They said this is so dangerous for their kids when they walk the path through the woods to school and play at shooting arrows at their targets tacked onto my trees. So I showed them another path to school down the driveway on the other side of my house and I put a fence around the woods and a no-trespassing sign on the fence because really, it not quite the thing to get bonked on the head while playing at archery or walking to school. You can still see these if you come in September or anytime. So the path through the woods became overgrown and the deer came with their babies into the woods, and the Great Horned Owl and the hawks and the bunnies and the birds also came, and they shelter and sing in the bramble patch that grows by the side of the woods. And it was wonderful, and I wondered about how long will the dead elm tree stand up, and when will it fall over and make a tangle on the ground for shelter for different creatures. But I had not thought about this for a long long time, and had begun to take his outline against the sky for granted. Then this morning we chose! We came crashing down through all the other branches of the tree friends near by. Leaves and branches went flying, and all the birds scattered to the four winds as if the red-tailed Hawk had come to watch. But there was no hawk. There was silence and only the sky above and the earth below, and on the earth lay all about, giant pieces of beautiful elm trunk that had once cradled the Great Spirit of the Elm Tree. Now we shall see who comes to live in our new forest.

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And so the Great-Elm-Tree-without-leaves towered above the forest canopy, and every year, little by little, the bark peeled away and cracked and fell silently to the soft loam below, and the Elm slowly became like smooth, rich cinnamon. Do you know the shape of an elm? Let me tell you anyway.

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The roots come out into a wide base and then narrow and twist on the way up and become the trunk. The trunk turns narrower in the middle and rises deliciously fluted and turned and sturdy and tall and majestic, and then it fattens and spreads out again into two or three or four thick and lush, high trunks almost to the clouds. It is in the crotch of this first divide that the grey squirrel made her nest and raised two babies one year. One baby was grey and the other was jet black. And they used to… ah! But this is not about squirrels! As I was saying, then, the smaller and smaller skyward elm branches fan out over the land until they fall, weeping, almost back to the ground. If you see one elm alone in a field, you can tell it is an elm by its beautiful outline. The chills of the sight of one elm alone can shoot you right out of time! Are you comfortable? Listen to this: very soon after the Elm Tree Spirit departed for parts known and unknown, there came a Red Belly Woodpecker to investigate the property of the forest. Red Bellies, as you

Very soon after the Elm Tree Spirit departed for parts known and unknown, there came a Red Belly Woodpecker to investigate the property of the forest. Red Bellies, as you know, certainly do make a thorough survey and miss nothing at all.

know, certainly do make a thorough survey and miss nothing at all. All day he went up the newly vacant Elm Tree and then he went down walking head first and going round and round the trunk in grand circles, until he was satisfied with his conclusions, whatever they were. But then he flew away and I didn’t see him for many summers. So who knows? One cannot always tell what Red Bellies do, or why. So I watched and waited and waited to see what I would see… I heard him one Spring. It was early and cold and rainy, and when it rained, the cinnamon colored elm would stay dry under one of the big high branches which flung itself out from the trunk towards the southeast. Just exactly in this dry spot is where I found our Red Belly thudding away at Sir Elm. I will say now that it takes much longer to make a nest in a dead elm than I thought! And it is noisy business. (I wonder if you are wondering where the Downies come in at.) Meanwhile, you will have to imagine Red Belly and his deeply chiselled home with its bed of green maple leaves at the bottom and soft grasses all in a cupped circle on top. Try to see him hanging outside his fine door to his cozy home, calling musically, CHIV! CHIV! to his mate to come and see. Picture two secret eggs being warmed by two Red Belly brooders. Sometime in May, if you mix yellow cornmeal and peanut butter together and put these crumbs in a big saucer by your door, imagine two fluffy babies all new and sparkly sitting in plain, unafraid view, peeping and chiv!chivving! to be fed by two bedraggled and very busy Red Bellies. You can see them all summer and winter and they will use the same nest next year and the next and next —if the tree is still there, that is.

continued on next page

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The Elm Tree, continued

I went out to check yesterday when the old Elm tumbled down, and his Red Belly nest is there alright, in a big split stump on the ground. I was glad it was already empty. All about are big dents and Elm skid marks and bounce markings. If you want, you can check each branch to see what you find, so I did, and from a very small wishbone branch that surely was once the highest branch the Elm Tree made, issued a peeping and chirping enough to make anyone crazy and run to warm the milk bottles. The storyteller right away propped up this peeping branch and had a cigarette, as this is the storyteller’s way… Peering into the tiny hole in the branch, you couldn’t see a thing. The nest must be very deep, but there was a long, thin crack in the branch’s back side, and there you could clearly see black and white feathers jumping up and down with each peepish squawk. Two very hungry Downy Woodpecker babies, oh dear! So I watched with binoculars from behind a bush some distance away, the tiny hole in the Y-shaped branch to see who would come. A Blue Jay was the first to stop by. If you are a Downy, you know this is about as good as getting bonked on the head by a falling tree on the walk to school through the woods. But it must have been the Great Spirit, Elias, because he left after a minute or two and didn’t come back. Then came Starlings and Grackles and Sparrows and Finches, and Cardinals, and pretty soon gloom settled into me about the Downies’ move from one hundred feet in the sky to three feet off the ground. Now there is a neighbor, Henry, right next door who will do anything, and here Henry came with his ladder and the thing to do is to put the nest back as close as you can to where it was. Storyteller is thinking the ladder is not nearly long enough for this, and there are only twenty feet of Elm Trunk standing up still. But remember the handy crotches the elm tree makes? The one where the squirrel’s nest was. Ha! It is still there at the top of the twenty feet of trunk; a perfect place to stick the branch and tie it up with some stereo wire which just happens to be lying about. So up up up they go and all tied up nice and secure and quick as you blink. But so far with all the hubbub there is no Downy mama or papa anywhere at all, not to be seen and not to even be heard. The next day (that’s today) one would surely put out some suet and some baby bird food like peanut butter and cornmeal and bread in milk and cat food soaking in water. And if you would do that, I bet you would see mama and papa Downy come by and collect a good bit and fly off with it in the direction of the Elm. And they do…

Forest, Tubod, Minglanilla, Cebu, drawing by Bart Boy Kiamko

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Forest, art by Bart Boy Kiamko • http://boykiamko.multiply.com

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photography by Grey Morgan

Tile of the Month by Jean-Baptiste Duret

The Dragonfly Function • Helps navigate into illusions / reflections and become the center of one’s own. Grants great flexibility in shifting through facets of reality.

This month’s tile may seem somewhat familiar, but that doesn’t mean that it has nothing further to tell us, that may have been overlooked because of its simplicity. Rediscover the Dragonfly…

Families • Milumet, Sumafi Significance • This tile represents an expanded awareness and a great mobility of attention. With its two pairs of wings, the dragonfly is able to move swiftly and rapidly in its environment (by taking off, rotating, uplifting…) or to hover in the air. Its two faceted eyes grant the dragonfly a great field of vision and it is able to keep track of its target and objectives and to have a clear understanding of obstacles. The dragonfly can perceive 175 images per second giving it clarity in its perception and access to consequent information.

This tile is also a reminder of the kaleidoscopic vision of reality which suggests a great flexibility of the perception. Interpretation • The Dragonfly lies in the center of its awareness represented by the bubble. The shape of the bubble is not spherical as our awareness is neither continuous nor even or seamless. The different parts inside the bubble represent the different facets of one’s attention and remind us of a puzzle. The quality of the membrane is in a state of fluctuation so to speak and represents the way our perception is filtered through our beliefs. The lines are moving in a spiral way, indicating that our perception is in a constant motion. The bubble can expand or contract itself depending on the focus and the attention. The Dragonfly is very mobile in its bubble and moves swiftly from one point of attention to another. As an advice • Whenever you find this tile, take a moment to slow down your perception and evaluate the information at your disposal through your senses and other avenues of communication (dreams, impressions, emotions…). It will bring you a sense of clarity and stability in the center of yourself. Allow yourself the flexibility to move through the diversity of your different worldviews so that you may put bits and pieces of your reality puzzle together. Don’t take anything for granted and allow yourself to see through the illusion of perception. First appearance • March 2009

find more on the tiles at jorid.elikozoe.net

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Other connections • kaleidoscope, bubble, iridescence

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SethWorld Game History by Yvonne M. Buonamici

I

’ve been asked how I was inspired to make SethWorld and how it’s creation came about.

The simple answer is that I channeled SethWorld in 1998. I didn’t realize it was channeling at the time, though. I simply woke up one morning with the game fully formed in my head, grabbed a pad and started writing. In about an hour, I had the game concept down, a suggested format for play, an initial design for the board, and a list of the concepts I wanted to use. All that remained was the fleshing out, so to speak. Of course, that answer is just one layer of how the game came to be manifested. Basically, see, I’m lazy. A Sethie since my college days (though not a “rabid” Sethie until about 1995), I believed that exploring my beliefs would greatly benefi t me. I had been using a variety of ways to do this—meditation, workshops, fi lling out charts and diagrams, muscle testing, etc., but… it was just so much hard work! Time not being linear, we now move into the future a bit. My friend, James Thames, had hooked me up with a computer and I joined the on-line Seth community, where I met Richard from New Zealand, who hooked me up with Pulse. Simultaneously, I’d been going to see Kay Shinol (Awakening Tribe) channel Peter. Peter told me I needed to replace the word “work” in my vocabulary with the word “play.” Kay was “given” to offer channeling classes to certain individuals, of which I was one. During her classes, I began to channel that part of my larger self that the Pulse group named EVE. So, maybe this is how it worked: I sent a need and desire out to the universe, which formed a probability of somehow exploring beliefs through play, which floated around the probability spectrum, pulling events from past and future, waiting for me to pluck it out of Framework 2. That’s as good a scenario as any other, don’t you think? The original board design for SethWorld was a 3-dimensional board. It was three poles of different heights, each with a circle on top, each circle divided into ten pies, or playscapes. I made a styrofoam and cardboard mock-up of the board and began to test it with family and

friends, both Sethies and non-Sethies, over a period of 2–3 years, tweaking and editing it. I found that people had a surprising amount of difficulty with the concept of a game that had no winner and no rules, so I added 6 sample “moves” to the pamphlet. Some of these I made up, and some are from actual games that were played during the testing phase. I sent the game to Robert Butts and to Lynda Dahl. Both approved of it, but at the time, Rob’s publishers were not accepting anything new and Lynda was only publishing books. I did not want to offer the game to a large corporation, and all the smaller, alternative presses seemed only to deal in books or cards. Manufacturing a 3-dimensional board was not something they were willing to undertake. So I shelved the game for a while, pulling it out only occasionally for local Seth meetings or gatherings with friends. A few years ago, I went to a Seth gathering in Houston, Texas, and while there, I met Rich Kendall. The game came up in the course of conversation and I promised to send Rich a copy of it, which I finally did a year later. He liked it, and so the process began again, with the same results… the small publishers all loved it, but none would undertake to manufacture it because it was a game and not a book. It became obvious I would have to use a flat board. I decided I would find an artist who could create the suggestion or illusion of a 3-dimensional board and I would take the risk of self-publishing the game. I looked first among friends and family, with no luck, and then hit upon the idea of actually asking someone in the Seth community! (I know! I know!) Enter artist extraordinaire, Annette Shacklett. Annette had an image pop into her head while we were speaking, and agreed to undertake the design of the board. She has been invaluable. She is not only a talented artist, but she knows all the computer things that the printer needs. Not only did I want to find a way to explore beliefs through play, but I also wanted to make a contribution to the Seth material. I believe SethWorld accomplishes both of those goals. I’m very proud of it. SethWorld is a totally open-ended game, with NO RULES. It is designed so that the players can create the game in the same manner we create our realities — individually and en masse. I believe it is totally unique among board games and will enrich the players in their conscious creation.

SethWorld — You’ve Never Played Anything Like It! http://members.toast.net/jimbo9/sethworld/

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Fly Away

by Pat Gerber

I

know my mother did not like me from the day I was born, although this all came to light many years later. Returning to my birth, I entered the world on a Friday afternoon, full of hope for the life before me. My mum was just glad that I had eventually arrived. She was not happy about me actually being born, especially as a father was not present. He never really knew that I was on the way. I was the result of a quick ten minutes in the boiler room of the chemical company where my mother was employed as a packer. Unfortunately on this day there was an accident in the company. It seemed that two containers containing two different gas mixtures got mixed together through a mistake made by an apprentice laboratory worker and the gas mixture expanded to such an extent that it caused a leak somewhere in the pipeline. My mother was so occupied with the boiler master that she did not notice that all employees were being told to leave the plant, so she remained. That was my past history in a nut shell, so on the day of my arrival this little incident was more or less forgotten. I was sleeping my baby sleep in a small bed next to my mothers in the hospital and she decided to take me in her arms, probably with the intent of seeing what it was like to have a son. That was when I made my first mistake. I just could not wait, and sort of floated into my mother’s arms on my own. Mum put me down like a piece of hot

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coal, and decided that having an illegitimate son was one problem, but a freak that could fly was an even bigger problem. That night she packed her bags and left the hospital through a back door. To this day she has never been seen since. Luckily my mother had an older sister Marge. Now Marge was one of those women that was convinced her purpose in life was to have a happy family which was my luck as she adopted me. Marge already had five children and was expecting number six so I suppose she thought that one more was no problem. Marge was married to Jim, a quiet man, who never said very much and was just happy to have a regular factory job, read his newspaper quietly in the evening and be looked after by Marge and the children. As the children got older, they were given various chores to do in the family. Growing up in a large family had the advantage for me that my flying facilities were somewhat hidden. I had been given the name of Joe and so as I grew older my chores were established. I seemed to be the one with most speed so I soon had my work to do. “Joe, can you go quickly to the shops and bring some milk” or “Joe we need potatoes, but quickly” and Joe did his job perfectly. Of course I was quick. I would walk to the corner of the road and then it was up in the air and a quick flight to the shops when I was sure that no-one was watching. One day I was flying to the shops and was seen by one of my cousins, I think it was Maureen. When I got home in the evening Marge was waiting for me. Jim was also there, although he said nothing, as usual. “Joe, I heard something from Maureen today that I can hardly believe. Now don’t lie to me, tell the truth. Can you fly?”

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“Yes Aunt Marge, no problem.” “I told you not to lie, people cannot fly.” “But he was flying along the road” said Maureen “I saw him, and he was quick.” “Marge don’t you start telling lies as well, Joe cannot fly. It is not possible.” So what did I do? To avoid getting Marge and I branded as liars I took a flight around the living room. “Well, just look at that” said Jim. I think that was the first sentence I had heard from him since I had been with Aunt Marge. Aunt Marge was just looking at me with her mouth wide open. After she recovered she made her decision and the next morning I was taken to Doctor Smith. “How can I help you?” he said to Aunt Marge. “It’s my nephew Joe, he can fly.” “People cannot fly” was the answer, so I did another round trip in the surgery to prove Aunt Marge’s point. Doctor Smith called the hospital and made an appointment for an examination. To cut a long story short, nothing really resulted from the examinations. They did find out that my bones were somehow composed differently to the normal human bone. There was talk of further examinations, but Aunt Marge decided it was all costing too much money and to leave things as they were. I must say Aunt Marge was a very logical person. Time went past, and my flying talents were never again spoken about. I decided to keep it to myself; then came the day that the circus was in town. Aunt Marge was still producing children but the older children were already working and bringing


money home. The oldest daughter had already got married and was expecting Aunt Marge’s first grandchild. I was also now leaving school and looking for work. I thought being a postman would be a good choice. I was sure I could complete my rounds with the post quickly. Anyhow, a family excursion was planned and we all went to the circus. It was fascinating to see the clowns, although it seemed to me that many circus artists were not as normal as others; fire eaters and dwarves, as well as acrobats that could twist and turn their bodies in all various shapes. Then there were the trapeze artists. I was fascinated and my brain started ticking. The next day I took a walk to the circus and asked to see the manager. “What can I do for you boy” he asked “I want to be a trapeze artist.” Was my answer “Do you have any experience.” “Sort of, I am used to working in heights and have no fear of falling. I am sure I would be perfect for the job.” I think I saw a sort of smile on the manager’s face, but my luck was in. One of the trapeze artists had twisted his ankle on a landing manoeuvre and they needed a substitute quickly. The manager decided it was worth a trial and took me into the tent and told me to climb up to the trapeze. I decided not to fly up as it could be that the manager might have some doubts. However, I reached the trapeze and then started swinging to and fro. The manager called “somersault” so I did one. He then called “double somersault” so I obliged and so on. After an afternoon’s trials I got the job. I even managed a triple somersault, which seemed to seal the deal. When I arrived home Aunt Marge was so pleased that I had found a job, although she was sorry that I would be leaving and travelling with a circus. What more shall I say. The circus job was a success. The manager was particularly pleased as people came from near and far to see me: I was soon the circus star. It was at this time that I met Marilyn. She worked with me as a trapeze artist. It was my job to catch her when she did her tricks and she told me she had never felt so safe before while working on the trapeze. We were a pair until one fateful day. Marilyn came to my dressing room and I flew over to meet her at the door.

So my wonderful romance with Marilyn was at an end. She decided to leave the circus and shortly afterwards I head she had married one of the acrobats. It was then that a new chance in my life arrived. I was thinking about leaving the circus, when after a performance a knock came on my dressing room door. I opened the door and it was the first time I met Charles. Charles worked for the country’s government and they had problems. One of their top spies had been caught by an enemy nation and it was a matter of importance that he was rescued, especially as he knew many secrets of our country. Charles was one of the heads of the espionage department of the government and I had been watched secretly by his personnel for some time. They had taken photos of me and made films showing my flying talents. Indeed the material had been examined by various experts at the ministry and they were completely convinced that I could fly. Confronted with such evidence, I could not refuse. My next job was organised. I became an agent for the secret service. I was issued with a new identity and sent to the country where the agent had been

imprisoned. During the day the prisoners were escorted to an area outside the prison for their daily exercise. I had been trained and it was my job to fly into this area, pick up my country’s agent and fly away with him. Of course I had been supplied with material to make the pick-up job easier, a special apparatus for carrying the prisoner. Everything went well and I just flew away with the agent. An aircraft was waiting for us on a small field near by and we escaped. It was a full success. Over the years I accomplished many missions for my country. My work was kept completely secret and in the countries where I did my work nothing was said. After all, who would believe that there were people who could fly? Today I am retired. Looking back on my life, I have no regrets. Financially I am doing well. My wages from my trapeze days and my civil servant work have enabled me to live a comfortable life. I would have like to have shared my life with a wife and children, but that is one of the disadvantages of flying. As soon as a woman entered my life and realised my gift, she decided to find somebody that was normal.

“Joe, did I see you flying just now?” “I thought you might have guessed Marilyn, yes I was flying. It’s just something I can do.” “You mean that all the time we have been working together, you could fly and never told me?” “Marilyn, does it really matter? We love each other and that is the main thing.” “No, Joe, no way.” “But Marilyn, I thought we were going to marry this year and start our own circus.” “No, sorry Joe. I do love you, but please understand I just cannot marry someone who can fly, it’s just not normal. Think of what people would say if they found out.” “Marilyn, it would just be something between us.” “No, Joe, I just couldn’t.” AUG.–SEPTEMBER 2009

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I

can’t remember the date exactly, I suppose it was in the latter part of 2006, perhaps November or December. What I recall is more my emotional status at the time and how I was feeling a sense of discouragement and disillusionment. It had gone beyond just lack of motivation, but that I had dedicated myself to investigation and discovery for many years in a field that was of little interest or understanding to but a handful of people. I realize that I’m so very common that I often confuse my own self identity with what I produce, and yet I couldn’t shake the haunting message I was sending myself, as to “just what was my point in being?” I must have requested assistance, although objectively I don’t recall using words aimed in any particular direction, whether it was to Elias energy, or my own expanded essence. I just curled up in a ball on the couch, and debated to myself if somehow I was running low on value fulfillment. Thoughts and ideas were floating through my mind like colored leaves in a brisk autumn wind, when I heard a faint “hello.” Not something entirely unfamiliar, but thoughts devoid of their usual concreteness. I had discovered sometime back that not all of my thought was the same. Some of my thoughts were heavy, intrusive, and seemed to fall around myself like bricks. But some thought was light and airy as though arriving on the wings of imagination itself. And those whims were so non-intrusive that I often ignored them as unimportant to the task at hand. But it didn’t just say “hello.” How curious. And because of my curiosity I responded with a “hello,” and in a flash of inspiration I knew this was Petunia. I was aware of a future focus of mine named Petunia from an impression Daryl had in ‘04. Daryl emailed me asking if it was alright if she confirmed this with Elias in her next session, but I didn’t feel I could connect with Petunia at the time, and had paid little to no attention to it even after Elias’ validation. Petunia immediately expressed her delight in finally connecting with me, which from her viewpoint is a historical version of herself. I asked if she was a teacher at the Alterversity, which she confirmed, but when I asked her what she taught, she responded with “you.” She was aware that I was in a state of disillusionment, and felt thwarted in my efforts of teaching. She expressed that that was because I was not the teacher, she was. Instead I was the inventor. That statement rang true to me as I flashed

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http://meandthedeadguy.blogspot.com

My Future Focus -

Petunia

by Sharon Mendenhall upon my life in the hue of creativity and invention. Indeed, I had always been an inventor, never satisfied with anything less than sailing to the distant shores of my own imagination. And I was still within this process in this very moment, as in the bizarre way that I invent a future focus of myself, while simultaneously she creates a past focus of herself, and they intermingle in an exchange of information beneficial to both, and as real as the reality of any experience. She offered more information as to her time frame and circumstance. She is approximately one hundred years in my future, and her location is in the United States somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, or what I would identify as Washington State, although she clarified that the coastline is not the same as what I know, nor is the city name something that I would recognize. I did feel comforted that she was not so far into the future, that I would have a hard time comprehending her distinct viewpoint or situation. To me, a hundred years from now seems very much like my own tomorrow. I asked her for the main difference between my here and her then, and to my surprise she responded that “the biggest difference is within self-satisfaction.” I would have thought deep space travel or flying cars, but she went on to elaborate. The importance is on individuality, where as in your present society, the majorities are dissatisfied with themselves in some manner, in her society the majority are very satisfied with the creation of themselves. And for those few, who are not, there is an understanding of what motivation dissatisfaction brings, and that it is temporary and not a lifetime sentence. This was because they consciously participate in their physical body creation, both before physical birth and after. Each individual can communicate with their own DNA structure and cell consciousness and request within cooperation various modifications as easily

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as we may have our ears pierced or receive a tattoo. Any body modification that we now achieve through the belief process of plastic surgery can be done without the surgery. In fact, there is no surgery in her time frame, as it is considered intrusive and out of vogue. Every woman, if she chooses, may look like Barbie, therefore, no one does. That is way out of fashion. Instead the emphasis is on uniqueness, each individual being as creative as they can in their constant body construction. For instance, she has chosen the genes of the tall slender Ethiopian, combined with Norwegian genes for light hair and light eyes. And she modified her blue eyes to the point that they are so light they often appear white, because she loves the contrast of light against dark. She also constantly adjusts her appearance mostly according to current trends, similar to how we would change our clothes or hairstyle. She expressed that her life is like a constant theme party, and many people will select a certain time frame to imitate both in body structure and costume. There is a great love of history, but also the creativity to mix and match according to one’s own taste, thereby enhancing the flair for the unusual. They don’t eat as much as we do, often going for days without food or any expression of hunger. But when they do plan a meal it is considered an occasion and celebration to be shared by many. Much goes into the preparation in terms of design, and they mix and match the tastes of many cultures. The preparation of food itself is replicated instantly, and there is no need for farming or storage warehousing. So the majority of preparation is within invention of a menu, along with costumes and ambiance. They also have a different relationship with the planet, and to chop down a tree to make boards and build a house would be considered


scandalous. Instead they view the tree as a being with consciousness, and would live in the tree, or among the trees, even requesting cooperation from the trees to provide adequate living arrangements. The climate is no longer extreme, and although still somewhat variable, much more comfortable and accommodating. They do not possess a lot of “stuff” because with the Replicator there is no need to acquire. They simply create on demand, and eliminate when no longer useful in the moment, for it is available to be re-constructed at anytime from a lingering library of ideas. After our initial conversation, I thought long and hard about the Replicator. Although I like everything she said about her situation, I was most intrigued about the Replicator itself, imagining it as a machine, perhaps microwave or even refrigerator sized. Yes, they adopted the name from Star Trek, but it is not a machine. I will share this later in my story, in the same manner that Petunia explained it to me. On our second encounter I was more prepared with questions for Petunia. I was curious about her job teaching and her connection to me. She explained that the Alterversity is not a physical place, although it is very real, it exists more like cyberspace without the use of computers. It is like an agreed meeting area in regional area 2, or dreamland. There is no formal education as we know it, but rather areas for groups of essences to meet and exchange idea and experiences, much like we do on the forum. Education is based on desire to know and nothing is actually taught, so she is not so much a teacher as she is a collector of information that she packages like a book that isn’t written. It is a ball of data similar to Robert Monroe’s ROTE1, that can be sent to an individual or individuals to unwrap and assimilate at their leisure, but no reading is required. The individual is aware of having received the ROTE, and the general theme of the information, and they can use their intuition to access the data, almost like using your memory to mine a book that you are aware you have already read. One simply trusts that the information is available and accesses through a process of direct knowing, like having an encyclopedia at your fingertips. In other words, one simply “googles” themselves. People are generally more aware of energy and there is a increased desire to know about essence families, or the different classifications of the basic energy divisions in this dimension of physical reality. Petunia and I are basically one in the same, therefore she appreciates my efforts in the collection of information regarding essence families, color, personality, energy centers, legends of the 9, and more. She especially likes that I have included imagery and sound into my work and encourages me in this direction. She often taps into my expressed collection of data, and also my world view directly, and incorporates this into her creation of ROTES. As an example Petunia has sent me a ROTE to peruse at my leisure. “Damn cool!” I say.

More about: Petunia composite • http://flickr.com/photos/ lfdeale/471613303/ Rotes • http://flickr.com/photos/lfdeale/473675601/ 1 • ROTE is an acronym Robert Monroe used for “Related Organized Thought Energy”

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by Reginald Martin • http://reginaldc.me

The Power of

Imagination

S

cience has established that our existence is in multi-dimensions. Of course we are all aware of three that we deal with on a daily basis. Everything in our objective reality has height, width and length. A fourth dimension that we can’t see, but do experience, is time. Science has postulated that there are many more universes that we are unable to access through objective reality. In the last decade science has come to the conclusion that we live in an infinite number of parallel universes. M-Theory is a fairly recent scientific hypothesis on unifying all of the different parts of physics and how the universe works. What science has not realized is that we are able to access any number of those universes. Our consciousness is an amazing vehicle. Most of us do not realize the mobility of our consciousness. Most of us do not realize that we effortlessly skip in and of our multi-dimensions on a constant basis. Have you ever consciously considered what your “imagination” is? I put the word in quotes because the word “imagination” carries a very strict connotation. That connotation is that imagination equals make believe or not real. Our brain focuses us in what we call reality. Reality for most is what is accessible through our five senses of taste, sight, touch, smell and hearing. As long as science believes that nothing is real unless it can be accessed through our five senses then it will never be able to study the mind and our imagination. The brain is physical; the mind is that which connects us to the source and is not housed in the body. The mind is part of our soul. When we remember something, or visualize something, those memories and visualizations are not housed in the physical brain.

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Science is looking for them to manifest physically. Science still has not pinpointed where a memory is stored physically. That’s because a memory or visualization is not physical. It is multidimensional. Here is a leap; they are part of our soul. Our soul operates in multi-dimensions. Our physical body is but one dimension that our souls operate in. Stay with me here. Our bodies operate in this 3D space with the 4th dimension of time. That is the limitation of the five senses. However, our being, our soul, our consciousness is in our physical body so that it can experience the wonders of being human. Our consciousness can only experience a hug, or a kiss through the physical body. Our soul will remember that hug or kiss long after the body is gone. Our physical experiences stay within our mind and consciousness for eternity. What we have not realized is that we are physically able to access our souls consciousness and memories, through what we have erroneously put in the make believe or unreal category of imagination. Anytime anyone has gone to regression therapy the hypnosis is relaxing the ego that the brain is so comfortable with, so that it can access the mind and it consciousness. With practice we can do this without hypnosis. However, we still access other probable/multi-dimensional worlds through our imagination. Are you skeptical? So was I. Whenever you imagine any scenario, or I should say, whenever you visualize any scenario, you have tapped into the mind and another probable dimension. If it is not in one of your parallel worlds it is not possible for you to even visualize it. The saying is true, ‘If you can see it and believe it then it is possible for you to achieve it!’ This is where understanding the Law of Attraction is so critical to any amount of success. Nothing is conceived in the outer world without it first being visualized in the inner world of your mind. It is real, you simply have to use the laws of the universe to bring it forth. You have to remember, you are a soul living a human experience. As a soul, you can shape your human experience. You are a creator, just as the creator. Science has proven that you exist in multiple dimensions. You now need to explore your power in this world and beyond. Care to explore?


Sheila’s

Garden Diary by Sheila Greer Outside, the heat and humidity felt oppressive. She walked briskly across the yard and down to her garden where she sat on the homemade bench she had made from an old board and two very distinctly knotty looking stumps. Pine stumps they were and one kept leaking sap, so she had painted it and then sprayed polyurethane finish on in the hopes that would stop the leak. Every time she checked she would find little sticky beads of the stuff and mutter under her breath that she must find a way to stop it from ruining her stump seat! Here in this garden is where she could come to be alone and feel the earth beneath her feet and smell the musky smell of the rotting mulch that was enriching the soil. Here is where the trees she planted almost three years ago were growing and providing much needed shade upon her sanctuary. They grew thick and luscious along the top ridge of the depression that was the floor of the garden. She felt comforted with the thick leaves and with the whispering sound they made when the wind swept across them giving them a tender voice with which to speak to her spirit.

In the middle of the garden she had dug a fire pit and lined it with stones, building up beyond the digging to form a rock ring. Many times she had come during the autumn season to build her sacred fire and call to the Universe and speak of the desires of her life. On this hot and humid June evening she sat silent and thoughtful. Her heart was full of emotion as she whispered to her trees of her secret she had been keeping so close to her heart. She thought of a lad she’d known long ago. She remembered the life that always seemed to leap from his eyes. She recalled the glow she always felt whenever she could hear him speak her name. She pictured the way the breeze would ruffle his hair and she loved him beyond what words could describe. She remained in her garden that evening in June until the sun disappeared behind the mountain and her cheeks grew wet the way they always did when something was so beautiful that tears seemed the only expression appropriate. The desire she held in her heart for him for so long now had become a habit. It was second nature to her to speak his name as she lay down at night and every morning when she awoke. So she just never questioned why she waited. She took for granted with each passing year that he would come again to her as he had promised. So that evening as the full moon rose silver and bright and flooded her garden with liquid light, she made her way back up the hill to the little house and to her bed. And outside her window the song of the whip-poorwill drowned out the whisper of his name from her slumbering lips.

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The Slideshow of Experiences by Emmy van Swaaij • http://improvisationsinconsciousness.blogspot.com

Throughout centuries mankind has tried to come up with a framework that helps in structuring the very vivid experiences people can encounter during their life. Experiences where they perceive memories, experiences —you name it— that seem to be located outside their usual time and space perceptions. A very popular idea to give it a place is the notion of reincarnation. Where a person goes through cycles of many different lifetimes from one life to the next and evolves in a certain way. When I was younger I never really thought much about this topic, I mean there was no reason to for I could still place my experiences in the neat box my psyche had formed to make sense of the world. Until I experienced something that didn’t fi t into that neat box any longer… My dreams showed me that I was able to pick up interesting, sometimes frightening, at other times joyful, strange adventures that took place in different places and different timeframes. Sometimes during those experiences I was able to perceive things from a different gender-perspective, different age, giving me tremendous insights through these dreams themselves. The themes depicted in the dream were always reflective of whatever issue or theme I was exploring during my own daily adventures, never separated from that. Though vivid and very realistic those were all taking place in the world of dreams and it was easy to say: “oh it was just a dream!” after waking up in sweat having experienced for instance being chased by Nazis in a concentration camp. Then one day I experienced something so out of the box that I felt lucky I’d found a framework to place it in when I came “out of it”, in this way retaining the carefully constructed balanced state of my psyche that I had finally mastered after some time of identity crisis. I was about 18 years old, was about to go live on my own but was in that in-between period where I still lived at my parents house. Seated on my bed I was reading a book when I suddenly found myself galloping through a landscape on the back of a black horse. This change of perspective was so abrupt that it startled me tremendously. The book I was reading had nothing to do with horses or the scene itself. All my life I have been very afraid of horses and now here I was galloping on one! The wind, caused by the speedy pace, blew through my hair and I kept looking behind me. My body was operating naturally, as if I had been riding horses all my life. The fact is that the only time I rode a horse was during a high school-trip, frightened as hell, at a riding school, and I can tell you it didn’t go as smoothly as this. I realized my body was much smaller than it is normally and also that my brain wasn’t working like it normally does. I felt, and this was a very strange experience, less intelligent or at least, I was using my brain in a different fashion than I normally do. I looked at my clothing and noticed that I was not a woman, but a boy about 13 years old. I kept galloping and looking over my shoulder seeing the men, clearly following “us”. I realized that this boy I was peeking along with had stolen something and was desperately trying to escape these angry men. Then… boom bam, suddenly the horse fell down taking me to the ground as well.

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Because I was looking backwards all the time I hadn’t noticed the huge branch of a tree. I knocked my head and both the horse and I fell to the ground. Amazed by the real-as-life sensations, I knew I was not dreaming in the same intense way as I now know myself to be Emmy. I had two perspectives, my own and the boy’s simultaneously.

Remember these? Loud clicks accompanied them while they travelled their way through the projector in many a household. The presentation disrupted at times when one of them got stuck or happened to be upside down.

The men caught up and one of them grabbed me by the collar and pushed my face for a slight moment in the mud where I found myself laying. All I was thinking was: wow! The feel of this mud! It’s so real! After this thought: swoosh! I was “back” in my room, book still placed on my lap, startled, heart beating with excitement. What was that? A strange hiccup of my psyche? It was all so very vivid and real. Had I fallen asleep? In my experience I certainly hadn’t. But what was this? I felt lucky that I was familiar with Jane Roberts work with her/Seth’s theories of multiple realities existing parallel to one another. I had a framework to place my experience in. I felt that my consciousness had momentarily zoomed into a parallel existence of myself. A strange hiccup of sorts, maybe caused by the intensity of this boy’s experience, maybe to show me that there is more to our tuning of our consciousness than meets my usual eye. What was very clear to me was that in no way that boy’s “now” was any less real than my own. It didn’t feel as “past”, to the boy that was his “now”. It all felt very immediate. But could I say: I am that boy also? In my experience I felt very clearly: I am that boy but at the same time I’m not all of what that boy is. There is a place where we overlap, but I can’t state: I AM that boy, I “own” that boy’s lifetime. I felt that I had to come to a different conclusion though I didn’t know yet what that conclusion was. I wrote down in my notebook:

“I know the understanding is there somewhere, but it is like with the sea, even though knowing that the sea is there, and that it is big, I can only see a small part of it, and never see the whole thing, or all its parts. So my understanding will always be very partial. But I can at least enjoy the small part of the sea that I do see.” Just as Jane Roberts didn’t like the usual perspectives of what reincarnation is claimed to be, I felt that there was more to this concept and that the concept was a meager interpretation of what might be the case. I felt that the point of power is in the now, not in the past nor in the future and had recognized my own interpretation of reality in Jane’s/Seth’s writings. I still love them dearly, they echo my own truths. But if reincarnation (having several lifetimes, one to the next and “owning” them) doesn’t feel right, where can I then place my experiences that are so out of the box? Over the years and through my own explorations I found the following analogy that seems to be a flexible enough framework to me so that I can give my experiences a place, without limiting my experiences by folding and forcing them into the framework.

Making fun of them during improv-skits was the last time I’d heard of them until some time ago during a different kind of improvisation I engaged in that some people call channeling. I prefer to name and see this particular activity no differently than the process that is going on during improvisational theatre. A creative way to explore reality, not unlike the creative way children learn about their reality through the use of play. There are so many expectations and assumptions glued to the subject of channeling that I simply and passionately don’t agree with. I wrote about this in earlier articles1 and I probably will keep writing about this topic as my perspective on the matter, like all living things, changes and transforms but also is at times so contrary to what I see described in most literature on the subject that I have to speak up. I can’t go too much into it in this particular article for I need the space for the topic that I started describing above: The way our consciousness is able to tune into what seems to be experiences from different places and times than the one it is generally focused in. During one of my improvisations in consciousness accompanied by my good friends Ellen Gilbert, Tom Chez and John Hawkins the following analogy came forth out of our material: “All that is”, God, Divine energy, consciousness, however you wish to call it, expresses its energies into physical life to get to know itself. Because consciousness is ever changing and thus never can gather the conclusion: I know myself, endless new experiences spring to life to give form and shape to its (his/hers? Whatever you like best) being. It molds into the form of physical life. And just like we take pictures of our holiday adventures to review our holidays later on, all these experiences are never lost but stored in the collective memory. While looking at pictures we can enrich our present moment with the experiences we encountered before. Coming to new understandings and conclusions about who we are at each moment because of these experiences we have encountered. continued after page 57 1 • “Dipping into the rich palette of the personality structure”, see Wisp#1

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photography by Tracy Marshall http://stillwandering.multiply.com

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Slidemen

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The Slideshow of Experiences, continued

Well let’s say that there is this huge psychic library where all experience is stored and as consciousness explores itself, the living snapshots it takes are formed into psychological slides, while exploring a certain theme. These are spontaneously placed into certain psychological slots in this library, structuring them by certain themes. Just like we can place the different slides in one of the diorama slots and name it: “Holiday to the Rocky Mountains 1999” there are psychological “slots”, physical life-time experiences combined in one slot that one can name for instance: “Belgium, Yosef 1909–1943” another might be called: “resisting change and overcoming this resistance”. Every possible experience is stored there, this includes all possible timeframe’s, genders, family units etc. etc. All those slides stored in an ever expanding database. The same slides can be stored in different combinations. Just like the letter ‘e’ in this whole article is present in many different words, but through the unique combinations it will have a totally different role to play. They don’t have to be placed in one particular slot. This happens naturally, automatically, a kind of natural “structuring” that is constantly occurring. I think our personality structure attracts out of this psychic library certain lifetime-experience slides by its interests, longings, curiosity and through this expands and develops itself. Every personality structure has access to all the different slides in the library. No one can say: “I own these slides” I think you “borrow” them from the library but unlike library books where you are not allowed to write in or add things to, you are in this case, adding to the content of these slides while you are looking at them. (“projecting” them through your own personality structure).

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It may even be the case, and I think it is, that the same slides are being selected by different personality structures. The same “blueprints”. But because they are placed in a unique rack, just like the letter e is placed in different variations composing the words of this article as I described before, they get a different, unique meaning. In this way I think we are all connected, because we all share at least some of the same slides from this ever expanding collection. I think that my conscious awareness is focused on one particular slide, the Emmy slide and at times there is this hiccup where my consciousness jumps to a different slide in the rack of my personality structure where the same theme is explored as I am doing in my present moment, but then for instance in a different timeframe, in different situations. It is important to keep in mind that the slides are not stale, those slides are always in movement, like little always ongoing movies. Those slides always exist simultaneously and influence each other but I don’t have to necessarily be consciously aware of them. When I look at the other slides, if I happen to be aware of them, when their existence shines through my Emmy-slide, like the words on the other side of a handwritten letter can do, my Emmy focus will always be influencing what I see, it will be my (ha!) frame of reference. There is no other way to it. In a way that Emmy slide functions as the fi lter on a lens, adding my own unique style to the contents of this psychic library. This analogy helps me tremendously to frame my experiences without forcing them to fi t in a too tight framework as I perceive the usual notions on for instance reincarnation to be. When I had that wild experience quite some years back, with the boy on the horse, I simply hit the psychological button to go to a different slide in my rack from this library, but was able to switch back to my usual perspective and even during the experience I never lost my “Emmy” perspective, it was always present also. I’ve noticed this with all my experiences of this nature and will explore this topic in another article! Perhaps see you there!


Venus (Libra) by Sabine vom Hoff Tür auf – Tür zu! door open – door closed Nobody needs a key for their own door, when the doorbell rings. Some open the door and meet themselves: their complement, what they asked for, be it an conscious invitation or not. Some don’t answer the door (at times) Some open the door and like the ’meeting with self' Some open the door and dislike the ’meeting with self' Every ‘yes’ is an opening to the world which is you Every ‘no’ shuts the world down, makes it smaller. Although: a ‘yes’ can be a ‘no’ as well as any ‘no’ can be a ‘yes’ In times of shifting, many Libra born individuals still have difficulty in making a ‘yes/no’ choice. within ’shifting’ they will experience: any yes/no it not absolute, once and forever, merely a choice in the now.

SaSa, San Diego, June 9, 2009

photography Grey Morgan

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Jane Roberts Collage  by Richard Kendall • http://richkendall-productions.com

I

n trying to put together a collage of Jane, I started out feeling a bit overwhelmed. Jane’s creative output was so vast and so exceptional, how does one choose what to present? With the conference quickly approaching, I was feeling pressured. I still didn’t have a handle on how to proceed. And then, out of the blue, I heard a little voice say: “Did you ever think of just being playful? Playful? Wow, what an amazing concept! You mean not worry about it and just try to have fun with it? I had forgotten about that one. So I took the advice to heart and proceeded to choose a variety of excerpts from Jane’s letters, poems, conversations, and interviews, both before and after the emergence of Seth. I also decided to let the excerpts find their own order rather than to arrange them chronologically. So now let’s hear what Jane has to say.

Am married, no children, but a terrific cat named William Loehman Butts. Husband is an artist. He designs labels in a local plant four hours a day (in the art department), and the other four he paints, writes, or sometimes when we need more cash, does commercial work. Yours truly, with an old bicycle and three baskets, wearing slacks, oodles of sweaters, and bright lipstick, sells Avon products three hours a day, and between us, financially, we manage pretty well. This includes rent on our three rooms (five rooms now), Rob made me two rooms out of the attic. They are cardboard rooms with cardboard walls, but well insulated, and covered with paintings; our daily supply of food; cigarettes; magazines; and books. Our apartment, our work, and our love is our life.

Sunday—A beautiful day! We went dancing last night as usual and had a great time. Today we have to drive down to see Rob’s dad in Troy at the home. I cleaned the house up. Rob is painting. Len downstairs, just back from vacation, is mowing the grass. I realize how lucky I am, how great our lives are, Rob’s and mine, compared to tragedies of others. If I had a rough time in early years, certainly not now. Why was I so complaining and unable to emotionally enjoy life for awhile? What joy each day, and how we so often project all kinds of restrictions upon our own subjective enjoyment. A gigantic thunderstorm begins around supper time. We eat watching Star Trek, and Rob goes down to the basement to see if there’s water there. Suddenly, I’m aware that my right hand closes easily, without resistance; sometimes it closes now and then, but always with resistance. I clean up the kitchen while the storm rages. Once, lightning strikes close or so it seems; a snapping sound and flash of white; my knees tremble and go woozy. Now I sit at the table, elbow and right arm working better; and right toes feel woozy. It’s humid, still pouring rain. And for a moment, the oddest sensation—as if the inner and outer conditions merge completely. The stormy landscape, a perfect counterpart of my inside world. The thunder rolling around the hills—MY angers rousing and releasing themselves; the teaming rain, my own frustrations and tears released in a torrent over inner landscapes. No wonder my hand suddenly freed; old stubbornesses rolling off my shoulders; a cool refreshing wind still angry, but clear, blowing through my skull. The feeling was amazingly fleet, but complete. I was exhilarated by the storm, and I felt like driving in the rain down to the corner, to see how much water had collected at the intersection, or even like making noise, singing or something. All of a sudden, with no transition at all, I left my body. My consciousness just flew right out over Water Street. There was a nail in the window and, shit, I can’t explain it, but as I went out I sort of merged with the nail, and flowed through the leaves of the pear tree, and flowed through the bark, and I knew that everything had life—that the nail was alive; that the atoms and the molecules in it had a consciousness; that the world was amazingly alive no matter how dead anything looked. The next thing, I was back in my body and my note pad, which had been there for writing poetry, was full of writing that I must have done while I’d been out of body. It was called, The Physical Universe As Idea Construction.

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All Norths and Souths and ups and downs And bombs and cash and you and me Exist in toylike replica, Each precise and exact As the head of a tack In an idiot’s brain, in yours and mine Each automobile, and dog and church Stands out apart and in its place All intact and sharp and safe Under the skull’s clothed curving sky Every man carries in his head a miniature of the universe Enclosed by brow and nose and jaw Locked in tight by skin and bone All complete with the smallest house And the most hard to find Ohio town And the tiniest mole on anyone’s arm The tissued hills of the shining skull Behind the eyes lie snug and still And every man who walks the surface of the earth Wanders first the bright brainscape Within the angled slopes of cheek Every flower blossoms in microscopic Aprils Each sickle pear ripens on trees that bloom with nerve ends No blizzard sweeps down one side street But the snows first flew in the brains Northeast And every Autumn wind Blows leaves that first fell Through the silent layers of the cells Each killer kills first A man who lives in his head Stalks him through streets made of muscle and blood And the agonized cry rings first of all Through the plotted alleys of thought Where the victim first falls And no one dies neither you nor me Till first he says no then says yes The us that we know, the self of the flesh Is like a giant voodoo doll Of the self in our head A second image some six feet tall Projected out by a ghost of smaller inscrutable stuff And when that inner voice speaks The fleshy lips talk And when the inner self moves The sporty god walks But when the giant image falls Crashing to earth The inner ghost takes his world someplace else.

e source is my uniqu l ia er at ly M The Seth e that I real fabulous on y I ll h ra ic te h li w a and and to appreciate, ly ds u ou tr cl ot if n d as di It is ly directed. ewas not real lled away. R ro ve a h rt so by st or ck w ru e st of th I was e mater ial, al reading som ind it, the re h be t ec ll te in I ve at si th as the m and sad e mater ial, th be of it e ty iz au al be t myself re le ly f al el re ys wed m did not at I had allo th , of ed gs de n in ti fore; sser wri ed by the le me to be af fect nt that in so te ex e th to l. I en ia ev others; the mater it af fected s of n rt io ss so e se m late as so g myself up sion, vi le te feared settin on go het. I could ould a false prop ey, but it w on m of t lo a e tant ak or p m d im an her more ot om fr y a personal re take aw and the rich e, as m is to ss gs thin ass. Cla I have in cl lationships book s. What e th s de si be go er p ll I’ in very far as to of fer, it’s as h am I h et e. S m ever e for and the sam r issionar y fo sonal terms, m h et S a be to g in not go ces. mass audien

Rich at Elmira, NY

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Took a bath, had fun bathing, perfuming, yet felt to some degree I should be working. But doing nothing may be good for both of us, like when I sit at the table after dinner watching trees. Sometimes I justify it by saying I get poetry ideas, which I do, but I think now I realize doing this is good—because it feels good—and puts me in touch with myself and nature. Most important: do what I want to do first, not what I think I ought to do. I am free to do what I want; pursue the psychic work or not, what parts of it I want, not do others, get a job, volunteer work, go outside, do Christmas shopping. I am free to do whatever I want, how come I thought I wasn’t? Anyone getting really good material and giving it out publicly is in a position of proving that it’s true in a physical fact relationship, and any proofs automatically water down the material, making it less valid and forcing it into a lesser context. Hence, the spirit guide bit. You will be put in the position where you have to tell the public, yes, this is a spirit, and he’s really alive and all this stuff. Or, I’m a fraud, or a schizoid. I was regarded as having the truth and a spirit guide, and I’m speaking generally here, by spiritualists and those in the field, or being a fraud or psychologically disturbed at the other end, and in that frame of reference there is no in-between. Either I was looked up to, not as myself, but because of Seth, or I was thought of as a nut and disturbed. And I refused the entire framework. It denied me my own joy and contact in a way I can’t explain. Spirit guide terminology is completely inaccurate to explain personalities such as Seth, and any of the same kind that you might encounter as a result of your own experience. I do not believe they are spirits in the terms meant. I consider the Seth material as evidence of other Aspects of the multidimensional personality. The person I am in my time can really get screwed up trying to figure out in what terms Seth is or isn’t valid, or what he is. Would a Seth, experiencing Jane, think of her as a lesser developed personality? Maybe, but just maybe, he’d also think of her as one with great growing potential to be encouraged, so that in time terms, he with his ability could emerge. He would be me, in my present time, developing abilities that would later let him be him. And simultaneously, I would be developed. And simultaneously I would be him developing and guiding me in my present time. The usual spirit interpretation isn’t a step ahead of the normal psychological explanation at all, because they automatically take it for granted that the guide is outside ourselves or independent, because inside or coexistent sounds awful and means it’s just you, and you know you’re nothing. There is a message in a postbox Meant for me alone It may be in front of some old barn Hidden in Ohio Or maybe it’s in Timbuktu Or in some postbox By the sea It’s been there for centuries Waiting just for me It may be far closer though Waiting for me Where my life And the message Sing the same lifesong

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The symptoms are a constant reminder to be more understanding of others. If I were completely healthy I’d be apt to be more impatient with others. The symptoms help me relate to others’ problems in a way I wouldn’t otherwise. Keeping them as a reminder, no one, including myself, is perfect, to keep me from getting a big head, from going off half-cocked. So after good news I emphasize the symptoms, so I don’t feel superior.

I sit at the typewriter and through the window I see a fantastic autumn day and revel in it. The sudden clearness right now of suddenly visible sky that was until lately filled with leaves; yet I feel my anxiety strongly. Annoyed by kitten who is playing with paper on floor and anger goes out toward the kitten, but realize the anger is independent of the kitten and think the kitten represents something. The compulsive need to take care of something who needs care as mother did; the resentment at having to do so. My ‘helplessness’ is a power play. Try to put it clearly. No way to defend self against mother as a kid, forced to care for her yet felt she had no use for me for doing it; if I had gumption I wouldn’t; she detested me. So I had this great anxiety. With the psychic stuff, suddenly others started looking to me for help. All of this was hatred against mother, being forced to help her, I wouldn’t do it again; so when the situation arose, I looked helpless so people would see I couldn’t help them when I couldn’t help myself. Only way I could express hostility safely against mother, or against other people who had something wrong and wanted help. You couldn’t yell at them or do anything; by their need, they controlled you. If I hurt, too, they won’t see what I’m doing and neither will I. So don’t have to take the responsibility of refusing to help. At same time, idea of being powerful, the greatest, is a way of getting back and defending self. So get these abilities then refuse to use them—brings sense of power. The anxiety became a force again when I was needed to help. Not succeeding all the way, also of getting back at herall ways of releasing hostility; only way that seemed open. Anyone could be cast in the old mother stance; Rob too; so my ‘helplessness’ makes him do things for me; power play; I control him through symptoms as my mother did me! Cut off nose to spite face. Can release these feelings creatively through writing now and conscious awareness should help. Sense of power and expression of hostility in not acting as I’m supposed to; not using psychic abilities fully, not functioning as I should, prevents me from taking joy in real achievements. If I realize I’m OK, as good as anyone else, if Rob can help me by loving me lots and I keep this stuff in mind, I can make it. I was sitting in the yard the other day working on Psychic Politics, and I’m getting some great ideas and there’s a whole bunch I didn’t bother writing down. I was watching a dog, we had a dead rabbit out there, and the dog was going wild rolling on the dead rabbit, and for some reason I translated that, as rolling in shit. And I was thinking, we think that is so terrible, if we let go, what are we going to do, we might do something awful like have an orgasm rolling in shit, or that it would be so awful and so primitive and so uncivilized and


so unspiritual, that that’s what we’d do. And I was thinking, how crazy. For centuries we’ve gone to war, and we think that is a heroic manly act worthy of a human being. Almost any man I think, would rather be caught, even with a gun in his hands in the face of his enemy shooting him to death, than rolling in shit laughing his head off, out in the backyard. I still resent it when new people come to class with the attitude—will Seth come through? If you’re waiting for me to have Seth come through, you should be as anxious to hear your own inner selves come through. You look for wonders from me, when you should look for wonders from yourselves. And there are wonders; you think there aren’t any, there’s all kinds of wonders from yourselves. You have all kinds of potentialities right now, not that you necessarily have to wait for or work for or anything, but that you have now. And

photography by Devonne Morgan

when you look at me and want Seth to come through, and when you don’t want to know what Jane says, but you want to know what Seth says, you are denying your own reality. You are denying your own inner voice. Because you’re saying, well, Jane is just an individual, and she can’t know, but Seth knows, and I’m an individual, and I don’t know, but Seth knows. But without me Seth couldn’t speak, and without your inner selves, you wouldn’t have the knowledge. All I want you to do, is if you hear your own voice, not to distrust it. Why, because it’s somebody else’s voice, does it all of a sudden attain authenticity, where your own voice doesn’t. You distrust your own experience, and for some odd reason trust other people’s, and this is what I want you to get away from.” Elmira, 6-97.

Jane Roberts and her cat

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Photography by Eschraiel

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 #13 — August–September 2009

ISSN

1760-4796 — No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher

Wisp #13  

Thirteenth issue of Wisp (August/Sept. 2009)

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