What Is Reality?

IMG_7887So, this month, I want to share a story—a true story—that happened to me—and maybe you too? I believe reality is so much bigger than we know, and it is slowly beginning to reveal its true nature to us.  Are you open?  Does this story offer a different picture of who we are—and from this vantage point allow us to ask the question, “What is the true nature of our reality?”  Is it only a construct in our minds? Are we in our very own Holodeck?  (A place of virtual reality in the StarTrek series.)  In the series, the holodeck is often used to recreate familiar places, participate in interactive stories, and to practice a variety of sports and skills. Could it not be as “fictional” as we think? Or is our current reality only build around our present memes—the collective conscious belief of our current, very limited potential, as we exist in this moment? Or, is reality in our current 3D model—and by its very nature always changing, to what’s next? Is this a glimpse into what is coming? Perhaps it is?  I’ll let you decide for yourself.

I was visiting a friend of mine.  The summer before I had spent a few extra days of summer on the Olympic Peninsula, as I had several years in a row. There was always something magical—serene, untroubled and tranquil at Brad’s house in the wood.  In my wanderings, I had come across some nice ceramic bowls which I thought would be an upgrade from the several blue zip-lock bowls on the shelves of the Sequim retreat—a place filled with solitude and peace.

So, I thought, it was unusual the following morning after my arrival this time, when I went to prepare breakfast—that all 9 bowls had disappeared.  (An odd number, but they were from the thrift store—and sometimes things come in odd numbers there; probably a set of 12 that someone had donated.)  I asked, had he seen them?  Yes, Brad remembered them—but commented—he hadn’t noticed them in a few months.  After a thorough investigation separately, our search—revealed no bowls.  How odd I thought—the plates were there from two summers before—and nothing else seemed to be out of place; my memory perused any new possibilities.  I looked up and asked Brad—would anyone have thrown them in the trash?  My mind had slipped into the petty scenario that someone had not been pleased with the addition of the bowls—or my presence in Sequim.  However, Brad looked at me directly and answered, “No.”  “That stuff doesn’t happen here,” he added.  “Ok”, I said, “I just had to ask.”  My logical left brain was diligently trying to sort out some explanation for their disappearance.  I reached for the blue plastic disposable bowls without saying anything else about the curiosity at hand; they would work just fine.

Brad had a few projects, he was working on outside after breakfast, and I offered to run the vacuum upstairs, inside.  The house wasn’t horrible—but seemed like it was time to ‘get a layer off,’  a quick freshening up. The house  always had a treehouse feel to me—and without it being anyone’s permanent house on a daily basis—served as a weekend get-a-way for which I was grateful for.

I set about to tidy the living room and kitchen which sat up high in the trees.  I was quite present, and in a cheerful mood. In spite of the coolness, the sun had graced us with it’s beauty and brightness today, I thought to myself while I—attended to the vacuum,  determined—to get the mighty machine cleaned out, so it could preform it’s household duty.  After three attempts the hoover was happily doing its job.  I moved the two coffee tables—and used the hose to suck up the wood dross around the tile which held the wood burning stove.  I folded the canvas wood carrier and carefully laid it on the faded plywood box.  I set the marigold-colored dustpan next to the wall—and lifted the drum stool—with its black pocked naugahyde seat and its bright chrome tripod legs—over to the large black tripod in the corner which held the Peavey speaker.  “How cute I thought to myself—the small tripod nestled into the big tripod.”  I finished with the vacuum and looked around surveying my work.  Everything looked good—and I went downstairs to see if Brad needed any help with his current and ongoing projects; a rhetorical question for any homeowner; the answer was “yes”.

Several hours later—with the rain falling heavily—and the sky darkening further—we retreated upstairs to throw potatoes in the oven—and headed into town for a RedBox movie rental and a few more groceries for the house.  I set the timer on my phone for an hour and off we drove to the nearby Safeway.

It had been a splendid evening—Dinner was a delicious fish with fresh asparagus and our oven baked potatoes with fixin’s of butter and sour cream; it had been a long time since I had indulged in a loaded baked spud.  I enjoyed every bite.

With a gentle coaxing and a glass of wine—Brad seemingly was the only one who could get me to sing.  He was one who had taken Karaoke to a seriously serious level—and with no one watching or critiquing—felt at ease enough to just have fun.  There were several songs that just lent themselves to our—or my level and aptitude and we were having a good time. We had found the lyrics on the computer—and had watched a couple of the artists on YouTube—even tuning into Darrell’s house.   Now, Brad grabbed his drum sticks and walked over to the drum set which sat behind the couch—handing me one of his sticks—I tap—tapped—tapped on the edge of the drum closest to me, and then pointed to the corner—and said, “grab the drum stool”.  He turned—and I said, “Where did it go?”  It was there this afternoon when I vacuumed, because I picked it up and moved it into a third quadrant of the large black tripod stand which stood in the corner holding the speaker.

Now, would be the time for the creepy music—because there was no stool—anywhere.  We looked in every corner, and every closet.  Brad wondered had someone been in the house?  Possible—except the house was locked—and because I had set the timer for the baked potatoes knew that we had been gone only about 45 minutes.  I didn’t have a sense that anyone else had been in  the house—and if so—why would someone take a drum stool seat—and leave everything else?  From a logical viewpoint—that didn’t make any sense either.

We looked downstairs.  Not in the guest bedrooms. Not in the laundry room or bathroom. Not in the garage.  The stool had vanished—along with the bowls—and the only link was me.  I could feel Brad was a bit freaked out on the inside, but to his credit—he was calm on the outside.

I thought about this a thousand times since then.  I am not afraid, but instead makes me question reality and its changing nature and how often we write things off that we don’t understand.   But, this was too tangible and I couldn’t write it off. Over the years—I have had other things “disappear” but never so quickly or obvious before my eyes.  I spoke to a few of my friends—they have had things disappear also—that make no logical sense.

So, is this a timeline jump?  Is it something to say to us—What is real?  It’s bigger.  Be open.  You don’t know, what you don’t know. Are there parts of our laws of physics that are missing?  I’ve heard there are two.  What have you had that “went missing” without any logical explanation—and perhaps made you wonder—what the heck is reality? My final question to myself was—if we can make stuff disappear—can, and are we learning to manipulate mass and reality that will be useful in the ascension trajectory humanity has chosen and be able to manifest what we need on demand?  And, is this why reality looks so different to everybody—because its all about perception and how open we are to what’s next?  And lastly, does it have to do with our rising consciousness?  I don’ have any of these answers—but look forward to what’s next—and as Paul Harvey used to say . . .  Stay tuned for . . . the rest of the story—page 2—when it appears outside of our linear timeline, coming to a place near you!

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Real Life Decoding and Healing Story

Lindsey is a friend of mine.  It all started innocently enough with a date—a successful, good looking, recently divorced man about her age—she met on a dating site.  They met for coffee and enjoyed nice conversation.  They both seemed be fond of the hour+ they had just spent together and before they parted, decided to see each other once again.  It would seem that the story was straight forward enough . . .

However, for Lindsey, a successful and talented professional in her own right, issues of past worthiness and childhood abuses rose to the surface as she walked through her front door.  She felt anxious and panicked; was she good enough for him?

Intellectually, this made no sense to her.  She knew that.  What exactly had been triggered by her unconscious that was troubling her now, showing up by her extreme physical reaction? By the next morning—the situation had escalated. Her eyes were inflamed and swollen.  They itched.  Over the course of the next few weeks and multiple visits to the ophthalmologist—and missed days from work—she suffered with blurred vision, red and painful eyes that she could barely open; the official diagnosis: conjunctivitis.

Now, most of us have heard, “Eyes are the mirrors of my Soul.”  On a more profound level, they enable us to see our outside world, yet through them, we express all the emotions and feelings which we experience inside ourselves. Our eyes reflect the way “I see life and my relationship with it.”  I knew diseases ending with “itis” were related to anger or frustration—and the “itis” also indicated illness having to do with inflammation.

Inflammation according to the world of medicine, is of course, a localized defensive reaction to a pathogenic agent or injury; red, heat, pain and swelling. Lindsey was certainly experiencing those. However, on a decoding level, it represented the ‘inflamed enraged feelings by something or someone that I am feeling, expressing itself through my body—something was “red and boiling with anger,” and could not be repressed or forgotten any longer. Somewhere locked away in the subconscious mind, those thoughts and feelings were there.

When we look closer, conjunctivitis, on a deep unresolved emotional level, was related to “refusing to see a situation or an event with which I disagree or that hurts me.” To go full woo-woo on you—that means that things cannot only be from our early childhood, but to complicate things, carried forward from another life through the trillion parts of our Merkaba, which means to ride, or passed from our parents’ traumas. The physical, mental-emotional and spiritual or mind-body-spirit and its components cannot be separated.  There is a relationship between the parts—and goes so much further than the illness or disease we see manifest before our eyes in our physical body.  We can liken the symptoms to the tip of an iceberg; most of it is below the surface.

Conjunctivitis is about the impossibility of forgiveness—irritation and revolt.  “It burns me to see such a thing!” It is as if my eyes were always trying to wash out the dirt I see in a situation that makes me angry.”  It may have been something so despicable that I absolutely must ‘whitewash the family’ from any judgment or scandal”. The result?  It causes swelling and mental numbness as well as an emotional overflow similar to the action of crying.”  On some level, Lindsey and I both knew intuitively, it was a clearing and cleansing from the past.  Just how far back it went, we couldn’t be sure. But the new energy and continuing shift was now making sure that we were being tuned and recalibrated—for what was next, and that meant—clearing out old patterns and traumas!

We did some work together.  Lindsey healed.  Followed Doctors orders not to wear her contacts—and to use the eyedrops for the swelling.  Several antibiotics to combat any potential bacterial infections were also prudent.  No surprise.

Lindsey called to tell me last week, she had another visit to the ophthalmologist.  Her astigmatism—which on a decoding level meant—trying to find answers outwardly rather than within myself was GONE.  Her vision improved four lines!  Her doctor’s only comment, was that’s impossible.  Not really.  In the decoding world, those are just indicators.  When the unresolved emotional trauma was resolved—the body corrected itself.  How cool is that!  The truth remains the Truth, whether we want to acknowledge it or not!  I myself take it as a WIN—and know that everything is so much bigger than we know, and when we can get out of our way—and change our beliefs to try new things—anything is possible—even healing the impossible!

Hair

“Hair is the physical manifestation of our thoughts 

and an extension of ourselves.”

“Your strength is in your hair.” I was in the middle of basketball practice at the University of Washington; Hec Ed pavilion. (The building where we held practice) when I “heard” that statement.

This announcement confused me when I heard it back in the middle-late 70’s.  As long ago as it was, I still remember it from time to time and really never gave it much thought until a few weeks ago.  I assumed it was a metaphor for my abilities as a basketball player.  I believe now, it has a deeper, more spiritual meaning.

Fast forward ahead four decades.  Again, the thought of hair surfaces to my conscious awareness; but not as the topic du jour—there was no conversation with myself or with another.   This time, the thought that wafted or I should say landed into my conscious awareness was grander. Could it actually be that my hair, your hair—ones’ hair was more like an antenna bringing information and direction to our intuitive, creative abilities?  Was it our connection or lack of connection and belief to the creative source, All That Is or God that influenced the thickness and luster of our hair?  Could that really be so?  Einstein certainly had hair!

Hair is such a big deal in our society today; perhaps it has been throughout history too?  But because as a modern society we have been so disconnected with Mother Earth and Nature for the most part, we have lost some of this meaning? After all, the Native Americans have strong beliefs about hair as my friend Laura mentioned when I broached my theory with her; Dr. Todd was unsure.

We all know, however,  some have it; some don’t.  We dye it.  Grow it. Cut it. Shave it. Twist it. Style it. And, blow it. Hair is intimately connected to part of our personality; it is us. And, it is an immense expression of who we are and tells everyone something about us.  It tells others that we are free.  Controlled.  Connected.  Unconnected. Stifled.  Rebellious. And, so much more.  Hair makes a non-verbal statement at some level about us.

Therefore, when we change our hair style, does it signal to ourselves and others around us that our life is changing as well?  I can remember several significant transitions in my own life, where changing my hair length and style signaled a shift, although, at the time, I was generally unaware of what lay ahead on my path; I felt the need for different. Was that purposeful direction or synchronic coincidence?

I checked a few references and found that the hair “is a mirror of a certain inner strength and of “my” roots. Samson (from the Old Testament) lost his strength when his hair was cut.” Hair represents the link between the physical and the spiritual, which links us to the cosmos and spiritual energy. I was on track.

I googled the internet. Native peoples belief lies more in line with our connection to source; this message really resonated too.  According to J.L.W. Johnstone, the Native Americans feel that our hair is the physical extension of our thoughts—and sanctions our direction or path in life. Johnstone notes, “As Children are raised up, so too is the spiritual level of teaching raised, to elevate their Spirits. In youth and innocence (in-knowing-sense = freedom from guilt, sin or pain), Mankind is blessed with a bounty of beautiful hair. The more pure and sacred your thoughts, the longer, healthier, and vibrant, your hair. As Humans age and loose their innocence, falling off the Path of Light, harboring dark thoughts, losing the light of pure thought, Humans loose their hair and the shine (aureole) it once had.”

I found this last statement interesting—especially for some,  as we get older and beaten down by years of life—our cynic, inner critic and doubt seems to increase or rise to the surface.   Our inner child has long since departed, just when we seem to need the connection the most; the signal has been turned off by us. More importantly, we must ask, can I free myself from what has imprisoned me?

So, what is the point of this musing?  Hair seems to be an important receiving device or antenna for internal guidance in our external world and for our direction.  Everything swings full circle. Is it time to be open to things we have discounted as unimportant or ridiculous?  Primitive? Or forgotten? Does loss of hair mean that I have moved away from the divine in me?

I attended a workshop this past weekend, and there were some interesting studies presented taking place in Mexico (Non-GMO) involving corn—and supplementing this crop with simply, laser treated nutrients.  One of the more interesting points was the corn receiving the supplement, had very hairy stocks—apparently—able to pick up more nutrients from the air.  This was evident by the pictures which accompanied the information in the lecture. Is it this way for us too?

Attitude drives all things; whatever we believe, we are 100% right.   Do you have thick hair?  Or is your hair thinning?  Do you only rely on your intellect and rational brain for analysis—the left side for most things?  What about your “gut” feeling?

Do you allow your intuitive side to participate in the decision making? Are you open to new ways of thinking and believing?  Will our science and ancient spiritual beliefs find a balance and discover they “know” the same thing?  Are the left and right sides melding where one side will not dominate the other?  Or am I one that concerns myself with the  3D materialistic side of  life and have very little spiritual practice?  Have I lost contact with my divine inner power?

One thing that seems important, and that is maintaining the health of ones hair is as important as maintaining all physical and spiritual health and wholeness, and that all starts with your pure intent; you at the one sitting at command central!

“I trust in life and 

in my inner being 

and see the solutions everywhere because they do exist.  

The world is there to help me.  What else do I need.”

Buyer Beware: FAKE FOOD at a store Near You!

As I wandered through the produce section of the grocery stores lately, I have noticed that there seems to be some devious marketing at play.  Even the stores like Whole Foods, or Lucky’s which I thought had a certainly integrity, have taken on a whole new attitude it seems.  Imitation food available for you on every stand or aisle?  Now, in the world of precise technology and beautiful people we have been programed to believe that fruits and vegetables are “perfect” too.  Therein, lies a great tool for marketing and purchasing—beautiful to look at—and picture perfect for our eyes—but at what cost to our biology, our Innate ‘smart body” and our long-term physical well-being?  Who are these modified foods good for, if not for us and our families? Have the concepts of old fashioned nutrition and good tasting natural flavors gone out of style?

I thought that the produce code beginning with the number “3” alerts the buyer that it has been genetically modified, but I wanted to make sure: was I remembering correctly.  After all, I was in Whole Foods.  It had been some time since I had shopped there.  Lately, I had been so busy, with my practice, I was stopping at the closest Publix on my way home from the gym—and was running in and out—picking up only what I needed for dinner that evening; or the next.

I approached an employee in the Produce department, pulling vegetables off his cart and restocking the empty shelves.  I had a big ripe tomato in my hand, and I wanted to confirm if the 3 was the genetically modified produce code, and so I asked him.  His reply was not a simple yes or no, and that’s what surprised me. Instead, he replied that you couldn’t believe everything you read on the Internet.  Yes, I was well aware of that, but IIN’s (Institute for Integrative Nutrition) text book was at home and it had been a few years since I had pulled it off the shelf to confirm my question. I usually just looked for the sign that said “ORGANIC”.  (I knew a “9” was organic—and thought I remembered a “4” was conventional.) And, since the handwritten sign in front of the display of tomatoes announced “Local Fresh Florida Tomatoes” I decided to ask—since—it seemed a contradiction.  I needed to know what I was really buying.

So, “Bob” from Produce answered me this way: Looking me straight in the eyes, he said, “You can’t believe everything you read on the internet”. My reply, as I stared him right back, and being as polite as I could, challenged him: “Do you believe the Internet is correct when they say a “9” is organic produce?”  He didn’t answer.  I continued, “so you’re telling me you don’t believe what the Internet says about the “3” but you do believe it when the Internet declares the “9” means organic?  It seems you can’t have it both ways.”  The discussion then moved another direction.  Bob continued, “You know we’re not in California”—I must have looked confused. “This is not mandated by law like it is in California.  Florida law does not require us to disclose whether something is genetically modified”—“for all to see what their buying”—I interrupted. The bottom line is, he didn’t know, and his defensive attitude took me back.

“Where is the integrity of Whole Foods?”, I asked.  What the heck is this all about?  Greed, I supposed.  He couldn’t say any more, and I knew it.  Probably instructed to tell his customers exactly what he had said, so it wouldn’t jeopardize his job.  I knew that story well—I had been told at my short stint at Lowes, that my customer service was too good—and I needed to give customer service like people were in the drive-through; sure when they are considering $10,000 worth of flooring? It wasn’t an Egg-McMuffin after all.

So, after I walked away—I decided to refresh my memory.  As it turns out, the “3” or “4” indicate conventional—and the “8” indicate GMO—the “9” Organic.  But, here’s the catch, the labels are really only for the employees who man the check-out stands—and don’t convey much more than the right produce code and for the inventory “elves”.

Jeffery Smith, Consumer Advocate and Author, ‘Seeds of Deception’ tells us that “those that run PLU-universe figured that someday some retailer might want to distinguish between a GMO and a non-GMO for price or inventory purposes. So, they created a convention of 5 digits starting with an 8, just in case it catches on. But, it has not. No one uses that number 8 as far as we can tell. And why would they? Most Americans say they would avoid GMOs if they were labeled.”

So, where does that leave us?  What about those of us, who Jeffery Smith calls finicky eaters  because we value our immune and reproductive systems, and don’t want our kids to “end up with the organ damage common among GMO-fed lab animals?”  Keep reading.

Many foods contain GMO ingredients.  As example, many packaged breads and bakery items contain GMO ingredients such as corn syrup, soy flour, and sugar from sugar beets.  You must look for the Non-GMO project seal on packaging to ensure that the product you are purchasing is non-GMO project verified.  You can also go to: www.NonGMOShoppingGuide.com and peruse the long lists of non-GMO and GMO brands by category. They provide a Download and a two-page version, or order the pocket guide, or even equip your iPhone with the new app “ShopNoGMO”.

If you’re not sure if GMOs are bad for you, visit www.HealthierEating.org, and read, listen, or watch, and find out why more and more doctors and medical organizations are prescribing non-GMO diets to all patients. Another enlightening tool that the whole family can watch is the movie, Genetic Roulette, the gamble of our lives.  I have watched it and highly recommend this award-winning film on the dangers of GMO’s.

In these days of dark and light, we all need to do our part—vote with our dollars, our intuition and our discernment.  True non-GMO Whole Foods are part of the circle of well-being and health.  It’s always the relationship between our parts that is needed to create balance in who we are and in everything we do!

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, BA, HC, AADP

About Cathy Silver

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP, is a Certified Holistic Health Coach in private practice in Lauderdale by the Sea, Florida. She works collaboratively with clients on their desires regarding disease, relationships, spirituality, and loss. Suffering through her own loss in 2005, Cathrine motivates and empowers others to be the heroes in their own lives, becoming fully responsible for their own happiness, joy and well-being.

Cathrine holds a degree in Speech Communication from the University of Washington, is a graduate of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition and holds certifications in Reiki, Matrix Energetics, Hypnosis, Biological Decoding and Grief Counseling. She is the author of the book, Riding the Light Beam: How Any Woman Can Find the Hero

www.Cathrinesilver.com (Website)

www.cathysilver.me (Blog)

cathysilverhealth@gmail.com (email)

Cathy Silver Holistic Healing (Facebook)IMG_7535

What is success?

th-23I have been asked to write a chapter for an upcoming book—an autobiography of sorts—the who’s who of my accomplishments.  Yet, I stop and ponder the directions: “Modesty is not allowed”. It is a “Springboard” for a professional group of women.  The “Springboard” I embrace; however, I wonder where the fine line is crossed beyond the quiet unpretentiousness and unassuming humility which I believe is a strength of self-balancing mastery and the arrogance, conceit and ego of narcissism which seem to dominate the air-waves, tweets and social media posts. I know there is a balance somewhere in between.

Perhaps, even more important is that the world of honors, awards and recognition are all fleeting and temporary, seemingly to feed the false-self of ego and pride—which are like fools gold, and tarnish the real trophy of our deep and inner core goal of self-love.  I don’t think many care or ask about that; external gratification surrounds us daily.

True success, wealth and happiness are not about our external trappings we collect, but the confidence, contentment, and joy with which we move about our day.  Is our true success our ability to be the quiet way-showers of the future?  Is it more important to ask, are we living our authentic truth?  Do we have a passion for our careers—our service to others and respect for one another?  What about acts of kindness? And, are we able to move about with compassionate action towards everyone we encounter? I believe when we don’t have to bulldoze over others, and control them in the way some do, we have truly begun to succeed.  Is this really the invisible message telegraphing fear, doubt and insecurity within, disguised behind such a mask?

There is a greater, grander relationship between the parts of who we are—which shows up as balance and well-being; there is entanglement between the seen and unseen that exists within the Universe to which we belong and to each other.   In that, there is a joy that comes deep from within, if we allow it. That is truly our divine nature.  But so many of us continue to exist in the willful struggle and win-lose belief.  Perhaps, it is time to begin following our inner-guidance and not what the masses, or mainstream drift deem important, but what is right for us.

When we begin to live with these simple principles, our health begins to improve and along with other areas that our consciousness has no idea about in our lives.   When we can address those emotions and feelings that we’re afraid to see—we can make positive changes in our well-being.  When we start to have awareness that certain diseases are linked to our feelings of inner sadness or that we “don’t deserve any better”—or we have a “conflicted situation” involving ourselves or another in our vital space, and have the courage to make the necessary changes, we are allowing ourselves to step into a place of true empowerment.  Our compassion and beauty—is worthiness and power.  This power brings the ability for us to create compassion and light everywhere we go.  Now, that is true success!

As we enter this year of 2018, there are many things that will come to light—and we are always at choice point to choose ourselves first.  When we can shift our perspective from one view to another, we give ourselves the opportunity to have a different experience.  When we can create experience to let our inner-light shine and our authentic beauty out, we have truly experienced success; something that is permanent and forever!

Happy New Year!

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

Cathrinesilver.com

“Time Machine”

They say time is a circle—not a straight line.  It’s just that we don’t live long enough life cycles to remember from one life to another and to tie our expressions to our bigger, grander purpose; or who we really are. My Mother used to say, if you wait long enough it will be back in style.  Everything that is old becomes new again—and when I see things that are “new” it reminds me of my Grandmothers era or another place “in time.”  We know styles come and go in cycles.  What about the illusion of “time and space”?

This past summer I returned to Texas to pick up my car—a 1970 MGB that I bought in college—on a 5,000 mile road trip that took me through Washington, Oregon, California, New Mexico, into Texas and through El Paso, Austin and on east to Nacdogches and then back west through Utah to my childhood stomping grounds.  Our voyage across the country was a circle.  But if we had kept going?  Is the road in back of me the same one as the road in front of me or us? A huge cosmic circle?

Later, while cleaning the car I came across all sorts of little reminders which transported me back in time.  (Familiarity or déjà vu?) I found several U of W parking gate tickets, non-digital and an old map.  I found a rusted can of WD-40.  I found a favorite ceramic coffee mug—and a few pens.  All the little trinkets which propelled me back almost four decades when the car was first placed in storage. Time Machine . . . I thought.  The past had come back, into the NOW. It was the past. It was about the present too.  And, was it about the future as well?  A metaphor for our lives?

Our minds are vast and complicated with little understanding of the bigger system in which we live.  Sure, our 3D world was acknowledged and important, but like memories and feelings and consciousness—what lay outside of our physical world that could transport us to places unknown—likes dreams—and visions—and psychic knowing—or even astral travel?  Were we connected like the computer to an invisible human wifi?  What lays outside our physical world today, that is unaccepted—or not yet understood?  And, if we really are interdimensional beings, what insights and potentials do we create for ourselves based on our choices or our thoughts?  Unlike our paper geographical maps like I found in the car, was ours more of a personal individual energy map guided by our intuition and light language magnetic codes and intentions?

If we listen to our invisible guidance, are we able to jump timelines?  And, based on our choices, can our future be rewritten?  What about our past? I know when I stand at the center of my life in stillness, I realize that I create everything.  I can and do create “what’s next.”  But, just like the car—I must clean out and rid my being of unresolved things, and beliefs and be willing to move the needle from the old groove to make room for what is coming. Just like the location of the car—towed to its new locale which I was able to move physically creating new options—I choose the same for my life.  I believe that we are multidimensional with one foot in this dimension and another bigger part in a world I cannot see, but influences me everyday. If in fact, we have multidimensional DNA—then at some point, we have all been down this road before.  Influenced by this unknown, but “remembered past” called wisdom stored in our akashic lineage, living today in the now—and moving forward like the road circled before us.

I, for one, move forward with excitement with this unlimited possibility as I co-create and manifest my personal world and help with the global unfolding— which I choose to live in joy and happiness, without fear.

With the holiday season upon us—I extend this wish for you to.  To drop and heal what doesn’t serve you or me anymore—creating the road ahead of us and allowing the unfolding with integrity, and truth and love, full of compassion for everyone.  It is the time machine in us all—ready to be written or re-written and given as a starting point to shine our light of what is to come.

Happy Holidays—and Happy Travels!

“Realize that there are many things in the world for which no cause shall be found; not because it does not exist, but because we know too little to find it.”                                     ~Diana Gabaldon, Voyager

 

IMG_6425

 

Earth Angel

The green light turned—and the car’s break lights ahead of me released and although a clear sunny day—there were tears in my eyes as my foot eased onto the gas petal moving my car forward making my left turn on to University Ave; two souls had just connected on a profound level and I was trying to wrap my head around the intense heartfelt exchange.  I was shaken and my tears were confirmation to me that this had been no ordinary experience.

Minutes before, I had exited off I-595 as I headed west on my way to volunteer for a few hours at a golf tournament.  It wasn’t unusual for the homeless or just the downtrodden to be walking the intersection begging for money.  I had gotten used to this sight in El Paso, thirty years before—the only thing missing was the baby on the woman’s shoulder.  I wasn’t being cynical, it was just that it broke my heart every time I had to sit and watch these poor Mexican woman begging for money; sometimes I “donated” to the cause—sometimes—not.

Today, waiting for the light, I was struck by the ragged baggy grey-colored sweat pants and torn shirt this woman wore.  She carried the handwritten cardboard sign requesting money; I sighed.  I had not been to the bank—and only had a dollar and change—as the light held it’s red.  I pulled my backpack forward over the seat and pulled out my wallet.  She stopped, watching, as I maneuvered inside the car.  I rolled down the window.  “I only have a dollar and change,” I shouted, getting ready to hand her the single while unzipping the change compartment inside my wallet and pitching out whatever change I could between my fingers, knowing I was racing the clock of the ticking red light countdown.

As I reached out and held my hand toward hers, I looked closely—her left eye sagged in an unusual way, and I wondered silently what had happened.  Was it a birth defect or some accident that had left her somewhat deformed?  I smiled at her, and she smiled radiantly back. I could feel her gratitude.  Her teeth were unkept—and it looked like several were missing from where I sat in my car.  She reached out her hand and I reached out as well—and I cupped her fingers for a moment; fingertip to fingertip as if to say, it was okay.  What else could I do?  Our eyes met and I knew who she was.  In a nano second, I felt all her divinity—and she mine.  In that moment we exchanged more than I could ever imagine; it was beyond words. It was beyond conscious thought and logic.

I saw her, in that moment, Earth Angel—dressed in “costume”—as I was dressed in mine.  Each of us with different purposes.  Each playing our part.  Each no different than the other and for that split second—time stopped, stillness rained.  And, then it was over—and I was forever changed. I cannot speculate her experience—and won’t.   I had viewed that piece and part of myself in another; persecuted and pathetic, joyous and giving.  Was there a piece of her in us all and vice-versa?

This woman was not anyone you would consciously choose to emulate—but held a innocence of such love—playing her part—in this vast test of our cosmic intelligence and lesson; bringing forward the simple lesson of compassion and love—to whoever would listen for a moment; a cosmic wink? Was this the quantum wind which blew with intent and ignited our multi-dimensionality for those who had eyes to see that we were so much bigger than we ever believed? And, this angelic presence was in us all—not just some of us—but how quickly we had forgotten when consumed with so much extraneous redirection everyday; who were we really?

I looked back in my mirror as the light changed to green, wiping my eyes—watching her walk the asphalt gathering change and sliding it in her pocket.  Her job—a beggar in the streets—changing hearts—making us think—and giving us the opportunity for compassion action.  No judgment.  Just Love.

 

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About Cathy Silver

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP, is a Certified Holistic Health Coach in private practice in Lauderdale by the Sea, Florida. She works collaboratively with clients on their desires regarding disease, relationships, spirituality, and loss. Suffering through her own loss in 2005, Cathrine motivates and empowers others to be the heroes in their own lives, becoming fully responsible for their own happiness, joy and well-being.

Cathrine holds a degree in Speech Communication from the University of Washington, is a graduate of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition and holds certifications in Reiki, Matrix Energetics, Hypnosis, Biological Decoding and Grief Counseling. She is the author of the book, Riding the Light Beam: How Any Woman Can Find the Hero

www.Cathrinesilver.com (Website)

www.cathysilver.me (Blog)

cathysilverhealth@gmail.com (email)

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