12 Ways of Christmas

images-5The holidays are upon us. Here we go again. And, unless it’s my imagination, the energy is more intense than in past holiday seasons; maybe it’s just me? Or is it? So, it’s not about cookies and pies and sugar plums which dance in everyone’s head.  Everywhere around me I am hearing extreme stories—and feeling the blowback with unreasonable responses to simple requests. Could it be the severe transits in the sky or that this shift in human consciousness is real? The fast-tracking and completion of this 9 energy seems to be upon us—endings and new beginnings ready or not!  Strap on your seat belt, I think there is more ahead. Is this where the “rubber hits the road?”  Or, as Lee Carroll says, “No more fence sitting.”

Even though we can’t see such progress nationally or globally, we know something is different in our lives.  Just like gravity and magnetism—or love for that matter we cannot see such invisible energies.  We even have a hard time explaining such things, but they are so a part of our lives that we’ve cognized them and believe it’s so and know them to be real.  By our choice and willingness at some level, the universe is pushing and pulling us forward, forcing decisions on our behalf.  Are we still clinging to old outdated ideas and beliefs that do not serve us? What is our truth?  We don’t know what we don’t know.

I have heard families are still feuding about the results of the recent presidential election—not talking because of its outcome . . . Greed, shadow-like behavior and lack of integrity is being challenged on every level. Ideas are projected onto others without warrant through filters and bias reflecting like mirrors back to them through us.  Others have expressed to me, they feel invisible within their family unit.  It seems like we as a human race have been running in circles for years. Cycles within cycles of the same, but no more, the finale is here. We are being pushed forward with such force that things are crumbling and falling fast—like the lightning bolt or the tower in the tarot. Shazam! Crash!  Boom! Bang! It’s here!

So, with such turmoil swirling everywhere, how do we shift things for a more civil and loving holiday season?

In reality, we can only be responsible for ourselves, right? I offer these suggestions. Many have stood the test of time: virtues and strengths we all know.  This is our test as well.  How are we going to do?  This is about awakening the Master-hood within. It is about empowerment.  In this season of light—that’s exactly what we are being challenged to do.

1.) Be compassionate to others.

2.) Be who you want to be and create the experiences you want to create.

3.) Biological family is not a requirement, if friends or soul family are a better option—choose them instead this year.

4.) Give your best.

5.) Live by your values

6.) Show wisdom, courage and love in your decisions and resistance to judgments.

7.) Offer humor to situations.

8.) Come to the party with open-mindedness

9.) Have gratitude to the small and large things life has to offer.

10.) Bring a dose of humility and kindness for all.

11.) Don’t take everything so personal—it’s really a reflection about the other.  It’s not about you.

12.)  Put the star at the top of the tree.  This is your light that shines so bright—that it radiates out to the world.  (That comes from inside you!)  Happy Holidays.

images-7

 

Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

Cathrinesilver.com

Milestones

img_2845It had already been a few weeks of significant change and major life events for me as a boarded another flight out of Ft. Lauderdale ten days ago. I was headed for Boston’s Logan International; my youngest son David, was getting married to a beautiful young woman named Hannah. They had fallen in love seven years prior while they were both in college.  Now they were marking the beginning of yet another cycle in their relationship; a vow to each other and commitment to their future together.

Weeks before, I had celebrated my Mother’s 85th birthday with my siblings and their families on the cool Pacific Ocean in the picturesque town of Cannon Beach, Oregon.  Thirteen days later my Mother would pass unexpectedly in her sleep; a surprise to all. She, on the soul level, was complete.  The end of another cycle; her transition was proof as shocking and surreal as it seemed to us, upon receiving the heartbreaking phone call.  We were all together again. This time at her memorial service appropriately held in the First Hill neighborhood at the historic Trinity Episcopal Parish in Seattle.  This was a place of memories; she had been married there—so had my brother.  She had held a similar service where we sat upon her own Mother’s passing—my grandmother and my namesake; I remember that, so many years ago.   History on many levels as I learned that her Father had helped to found the still beautiful old English Gothic Revival landmark; milestones. . . .

At my son’s wedding, I would be seeing my ex-husband and his new wife. He was a reminder of another milestone: my painful divorce in 2006. I would be saying hello to my aging ex-mother-in-law, seeing my happy, energetic red-headed two-year old grandson, my oldest son Joshua and his wife Jessica, and meeting Hannah’s parents and sisters for the first time.

I had vowed to myself to show up powerful, balanced, peaceful and loving.  I felt, I had fulfilled that promise—to myself:  for me that was another milestone and cycle that was complete.  I had been working towards that resolution for the last ten years.  It was the mastery inside that I strove for daily, and my compassion and evenness was proof that day.  These events, coming like hard packed snowballs, one after another, certainly acted as good barometers for not only myself—but can be markers, for all of us—on how far we’ve come, or how much work on ourselves we have left to do. No denial or illusion would mask any remaining sorrow, grief, anger or emotional hurt which remained.

Milestones— those major events in our lives are happening all the time to everyone.  They are defined as a “significant event or stage in the life, progress, development, or life of a person, or of a nation.”  We often think of birth, death, divorce, and marriage as the biggest and I believe they serve as our greatest teachers in life.

Each and every one of those events could have been a traumatic emotional sand trap; life’s hazards of sorts; “Watch Out!” However, in the center of any storm, you can stand as the unmoved mover and reside at the place of stillness within.  What comes to mind as I write this blog, is the merry-go-rounds they had in parks when I grew up.  You could more easily stand the ride if you could get to the middle of the quickly moving circular metal platform—a brightly painted spinning disc with welded grab bars called fun!   On the outer edges the ride was definitely more dizzying and much harder to hang on.  Isn’t life like that too?  How easy or difficult is it to get to the center of ourselves—our eternal core of strength when there is so much change happening so quickly? This can be dizzying too. The core of internal strength, please remember, is that which we carry inside ourselves.  It is in everyone. It is that piece of the divine that so many dismiss as separate, and external from our very being.  But, acknowledging this I AM strength is a gift we can access at any time; it’s there for the asking.

And then I wonder and ask, do we need to be more like the leaf on the river, always being guided around the rocks and undercurrents? When we are able to trust this always spinning revolution and know that our lives are co-created by our complete and whole beingness including that God-part within; we are like the leaf.   Or are we barely hanging on for dear life, dizzy, shaken, and too weak and unable to stand upright?

I have come to believe the Wheel of Fortune—represents the wheel of life.  It is a powerful metaphor for our lives; our milestones.  It continually moves—up and down.  It is our job to stand in the center.  At the highest level, writes Pamela Eakins, the wheel is seen as “the wheel of consciousness and a wheel of evolving destiny.”  She continues, “The Wheel of Fortune is seen as a path that brings individuality into alignment with the movement of the Cosmos.”

When necessary these past weeks, I felt strong.  I felt compassion.  I have allowed myself to be vulnerable.  I have been loving. I am at peace.  I felt like I have stood at the center of the wheel. I feel like I am in alignment with the Universe.  I have pulled on this strength within and I invite you to do the same.

“As the world turns,

so do I.

When I change for the good,

I can touch the sky.”

Wings of Change

Inspired Wellness Within

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

http://www.cathrinesilver.com

Bridge of Light or Unearthing the Darkness?

Growing up in the Northwest, I can remember visiting the beach from time to time in the San Juan islands.   When the tide was out, one could walk upon the sand where the salt water had been hours before. Like most kids, it fascinated me to turn over rocks and see the small crabs scurry when exposed.  The clams were similar— exposing themselves and their location only by a small hole in the sand.  However, most of the time, these bivalve mollusks could not escape the shovel and bucket of capture.  These ending months of 2016 seem to be the time that spirit is uncovering who we are, moving metaphorical rocks and exposing our actions and motivations which we have lived by. The metaphorical shovel is exposing our choices, our way of being and the mask upon our face that is viewed by the world or that small hole many have been breathing through.

The shovel is the amplification of light energies and continues to grow.  The recalibration of humanity is bringing many things to light—often the ugly parts that have existed for eons, portrayed as one thing and are actually disguised as another.  It looks different for everyone—but everyone is experiencing this whether it be within their jobs, their health, their relationships, or their financial matters. It is exposing corporations and politicians.  It is exposing national and international matters.  And, it is exposing things within our individual lives as well. It is not the shovel any longer, but the bulldozer of light, and it is strong.  This new energy upon us is exposing what is not working—huge old systems that need to be revisited, reevaluated and revamped.

The darkness, who prefers the dark, is not happy; they have always preferred life under the rock. The darkness is being exposed for who and what they are. It shows as greed, manipulation and rule bending; hidden agendas for personal gain and power.   Spirit has clearly said, and reminded us, that there can be no more fence sitting; the white hats and the black hats are being uncovered.  The black hats have always operated in the dark, behind the scenes, and do not like their true nature unearthed, like the poor scurrying crabs.

Expect more revelations.  Surprises—often times revealing what we have always suspected and “known”. We have been told for decades, there is no dark switch; when a light is turned on in a room—there can be no darkness. The time has come for the light to shine everywhere. The light is revealing those who have always preferred to hide under the rocks while manipulating others for their own profit, greed and gain.  These old systems will be exposed and fall in order to be rebuilt into something new.

Like you, I have experienced the dark’s desperate desire to hold on. Not long ago, a web crawler “caught” a “free” image off the Internet that I used in a blog over three years ago and wants ransom money including for an image that was legally purchased by my web designers. Then I had my identify stolen. And the list goes on. Perhaps you can relate.

Kryon has stated when everyone can talk to everyone, there can be no secrets.  We have that now with the internet and social media.   It seems like as we move closer to the 2017 energy, “the field” of new energy potentials and possibilities will help us exposing and cleansing things that don’t work—and replace them with a much fairer and more just system which benefits all and not just a few big bullies who are able to buy and threaten and demand and scream when they don’t get their way.

This is the bridge of light. We are the bridge.  We are the light. We are the bridge of light.  We are here for a reason.  We must follow our hearts.  That is the truest form of guidance.  It is the only way we are able to hold the light and expansion of consciousness during this time of recalibration and change of humanity; end of times.  Yes, indeed.  The light is winning.  The Universe is unveiling humanity’s mask. The Universe’s shovel is big and deep.  Which side are you?

images

Communication—Always—Everywhere—ALL Ways

IMG_1361

One of the many Washington State Ferries

Gone were the days of hopping onto the ferry for a quick ride across the Sound—unless of course, you were on foot. Riding the iconic green and white ferry this past weekend is not only a familiar, favorite pastime of many tourists to Seattle, including myself, but serves a vital transportation network for more than—wow— 23 million passengers annually in the Northwest.

The Washington State Ferry system is the only way to reach some of the islands around the Puget Sound*—technically now part of the Salish Sea and nestled between two picturesque mountain ranges:  Cascades and Olympics.  But in the meantime—you wait in line for a boat.

And so, I was invited to spend the weekend with a friend of mine in Sequim and as we waited and chatted catching up in the car, creeping slowly down the mile+ long line that ran up and around the hill, all the while inching toward the ferry toll booths to buy tickets to make the short crossing from Edmonds to Kingston— on to the Kitsap Peninsula, and then further west to the diverse Olympic Peninsula bordering the expansive Pacific Ocean.

We sat poised behind a 18 wheeler inching ever closer as the line curved down the hill—the many cars patiently waiting—-to board. Out of the blue, a white Ford SUV cut in line—right in front of the truck bearing the British Columbia plates. Ouch! 

Now, as notice to the reader, there are many signs posted—about no “cutting-in-Line,” and for good reason, if you have ever waited—hours sometimes to board and cross the water—depending on which route, time, day, and where you were headed.

So, when this SUV pulled ahead of the semi-truck, my friend Brad, and a frequent ferry rider, decided to let them know this was not only not cool, but the toll takers would turn them around to the back of the line.  Before we knew and he could get there, the Canadian truck driver had also jumped out to make this aberrant vehicle aware of the protocol breech.   In a quick exchange with the SUV driver and passenger, the truck driver shouted to Brad, “if I hit the guy—I am going to jail”—and got back in his vehicle. And so, good natured Brad took his turn.  His experience was no better and with the belligerent response and defiant attitude, he decided to turn to his other option: reporting the vehicle using the special hot line established by the WSF system—and that’s exactly we did.

As fate would have it, we had all progressed and stopped to a stone’s throw of the three toll booths, and it was time to alert the toll takers.  We again witnessed an attitude as two toll takers preceded to move the vehicle out of line and turned them around; about like hitting a nest of yellow-jackets.  (And, you don’t want to be anywhere close when the stick hits the hive.)  But, justice prevailed and I am sure the on-lookers were most amused. No one was hurt or hauled off to jail, although the woman inside the car had gotten out and was taking pictures of those who had offended her and foiled her cheating-cut-in-line intention—shouting something about hitting her car—what???

Later the next afternoon, Brad and I stopped to get sandwiches at a local Safeway.  We had passed a fiddle player outside the grocery store on the way back to the car and had enjoyed a few strums as we passed him heading across the asphalt when we realized in the row in front of us and a space to the right was a large pickup parked and playing his tunes in a very, very base—you know shake the windows—kind of style.  A few sentences into a conversation about how neither of us cared for this “genre”—the kids next to us in the mini-van with the door open—said that that was their brother we were talking about—and how this was America and they could do anything they wanted—and then filed out of the van—daisy dukes—tattoos and all, to let their brother know—we didn’t exactly embrace his music.  Quite a family, I must say . . . “Mom” came out shortly with a couple bags of groceries and within a few minutes they were gone.  However, big brother, spun his truck around, his Mother’s bags of groceries quickly tossed and rolling across the bed of his truck.  He was more concerned with us, as he pulled behind where we were parked, and walked up to Brad’s window.  “Hi, I’m sorry you didn’t like my music.  Next time, I’ll play it louder!”  I looked at Brad and he back at me in between bites of the sandwiches on our laps.  In a way it was almost humorous.  What the heck just happened, I mused?  It had been a weird kind of weekend—something that over the many trips to the Peninsula had always been quiet and peaceful—and again found ourselves innocently in the middle of a shifting and what seemed angry outburst.

Communication, I thought, how often do we realize that everything we do is a form of communication—both verbally and nonverbally alike.  I have known for decades that non-verbal communication is more honest and truthful that verbal.  We cannot hide the way we express ourselves, observed in—our dress—our hair—our cars—our houses— “our tattoo’s” if any—or our music to name a few.

But, does communication come to us in other forms as well?  What about the stars and their magnetic influence and pull?  Certainly the moon affects us as evidenced by ER visits. Or Mercury when it goes retrograde; it’s effect on electronics, travel, decisions and communication. Do the trees communicate with us?  We all know “tree huggers.” What do the trees say to them? Crystals are givers and receivers of information, especially quartz.  I have friends that have the ability to communicate with the rocks and crystals.  And, water—we know it communicates as well—certainly from Masaru Emoto’s work which not only supports this, but scientifically documents water’s messages.

But, what else communicates with us that we have no awareness, because of our lack of understanding or our multidimensional nature? Dreams? And, can we receive messages from the whales and dolphins?  Is that why we are so fascinated by these magnificent cetaceans?   What about the Sun?  I understand it is talking to the heliosphere of Earth, and this is talking to the esoteric grids—which is communicating to our DNA and consciousness.  Could that explain the weekend?  Our politics?  Our relationships?  Our desires—our wants—needs—our changes, endings and beginnings taking place at every level of our lives and beingness?  What about our intuition? What important ideas and thoughts come this way?

How do our intentions and words influence our daily lives? Have you noticed anything new? What is different in your life?  How do you communicate with yourself and others? We all seem to be individual receivers and communication—visible or not—is coming to us ALL ways and always.

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

www.cathrinesilver.com

Cathysilverhealth@gmail.com

 

IMG_0849

We are ALL WAYS communicating–whether we realize it or not–verbally & non-verbally.

*Unless you own a private boat

Cindy & Chris

Cindy and Chris—two different lives—two different stories; each similar in their truth.  Today, gathering ingredients for the mango salsa, I made a trip to the newly opened Fresh Market near my home.  It is really not a grocery store, but more of a delightful shopping experience.  As, I approached the check out register, a short grey haired woman wearing glasses and dressed in the market’s trademark colors stood waiting as I approached.  Smiling she asked, “are you ready to check out?  “Yes”, I said, and continued, “this is a dangerous store with all the wonderful temptations around each turn of my shopping cart”.  She nodded, and I push the metal basket into the designated parking spot by her register.

Sometimes, short conversations ensue as customer stands—and clerk works quickly sliding bar codes over the red laser lights and typing in proper codes.  We exchanged a few words about salsa—her husband making a batch made with mangos the evening before; their tree full with bounty.

And, how are you today, I politely inquired about half way through the process.  Well, confessed, Cindy—as I read her name tag, “I am getting over a cold”.  Hum, I thought—and then spoke.  I guess your biology is catching up to your new higher vibration”.  She stopped and smiled.  “I am happy again”, she replied in earnest.  I looked  her in the eyes.  And in a few minutes she told me her story.  “I used to work at Fresh Market—the one down by Broward,” (Ave) she told me.  “Things got unbearable and I left.  I worked at a call center as a supervisor for three years and would be pacing in the hall getting yelled at. (My mind drifted and I pictured a hallway with plainly painted nondescript walls and squares of dull vinyl tiling desperately needing to be cleaned and waxed.) “I came back here when this store opened.  I am so happy—in fact all the weight I gained just fell off” and she rubbed her hand across her belly.  I was astonished for she was a rather thin woman “I believe you;  you are saying my vibration rose because I am happy—and the cold is proof.”  Yep, I said smiling.  Pretty cool, huh.  I know it’s true.  I haven’t been this happy in a long time.  We parted smiling.  I headed for home, I would be back.

My friend Chris is another story.  Another career experience.  What was being tested?  What wisdom did he gain? Offered an opportunity to work in St. Croix several months ago, he sold or gave away everything he owned, except two suitcases of basic necessities, his cat and 2000 lbs. of tools, heading to the Caribbean for what seemed to be a dream job.  Six+ weeks later, he is heading home.  “The guy doesn’t have an ounce of integrity—and I don’t ever see it changing,” he told me over the phone.  The apartment he was supposed to have wasn’t ready for several weeks after he arrived.  The job was not what he went down there to do—and his beloved companion and familiar friend, Tigger got sick.  It was then that he made the decision to come back to Florida—and start over.  “I think this is one of the toughest experiences of my life”, he said in another conversation; I could certainly hear that in his voice.   But, just like Cindy, a new job awaits him here, with a company he knows that works with honesty; a prerequisite for him and was for Cindy too.

We all seem to survive the bumps in the road.  It is part of life that we don’t really understand, but adds flavor to our ride.  I guess we could say, it might be quite boring in the other direction.  Gilda Radner once noted, “Some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end.  Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity . . .”   Each “adventure” we take always brings choice—do we make our decision based from the standpoint of love or fear—which is it that guides our way?   Gary Zukav, well known author of the book, The Seat of the Soul,  says this, The choice that frees or imprisons us is the choice of love or fear. Love liberates. Fear imprisons.

In the end, it’s about being honest with one person—our self.  Stay strong and do your best with whatever situation you face following your instincts.  Remember, to somehow enjoy your ride, difficult as it is in the moment; temporary as the weather.  You must pick the path that’s right for you; after all it’s your own story and your truth. But do it with love because love liberates you and sets you free, especially when taking the leap into the vast unknown. We’re all stronger than we know.

“Inspired Wellness From Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

http://www.CathrineSilver.com

IMG_1457

 

 

KIDS: Natural and Logical Consequences

When Joshua, my oldest was five, I enrolled him in El Paso Country Day School.  We were stationed at Ft. Bliss military base and living up near the hospital in field grade military quarters; there were big problems with the small local elementary school just outside the military gates. I wanted his first experience and exposure to school be as positive as possible; after all wouldn’t this in someway determine his future?  My husband was doing his internship and residency and spend inhuman hours at the hospital; I have the pictures to prove it—even today.

One day exasperated, I confess in a conversation with Susan Jordan, PhD, assistant to the founder of the school, that I would never get Joshua to school on time without the morning drama that eventually ended up with me upset.  Was yelling really necessary to get him to move in the morning so we could get to school on time? I guess I was seeking answers; needing help.

Her response was utterly astounding to me.  She simply advised, “let him get dressed at school if he is not ready when it is time to leave the house.” I was speechless.  “I can’t do that”, I instinctually responded and added,  “He will come to school in his pajamas!”

 

Sweetly, she smiled and answered my protest,  “Let him know what time you are leaving,” I listened intently.  She continued with the precise but simple instructions.  “Tell him when you are leaving, and if he is not ready, he can get dressed at school. Tell him that you will put his clothes in a bag and that he can get dressed in my office.  Then upon arriving, bring him into my office and set his bag of clothes on my desk.  He can get dressed in here.  And, I will see you in the afternoon, with his sleepware in the bag; you can pick it up off my desk.”

She then explained this parenting technique called Natural and Logical consequences.  It puts the responsibility on the child. The child always has a choice.  If Joshua chose to get dressed, for example, at home, then the experience he has is different than choosing to play with toys and not be ready. Then by his inaction he must get dressed at school. His other option is to get dressed at home before leaving. Each choice the child makes brings a new experience from his or her decision. Each a valuable learning experience based on his/her choice.  But the responsibility is put on their shoulders; not yours.

I processed this new concept, asking myself, was I brave enough to try this novel approach?  At least to me it was different than anything I had known at the time.  Something I was totally unfamiliar with, however, it certainly sounded like sage advice and something that would support a new healthier routine each morning getting out of the house.

Morning came. Joshua was still playing when it was time to head for school.  I had followed her instructions. I loaded Joshua and David into the car.  His school clothes neatly in a brown grocery bag, and ready for him to put on upon his arrival at school.  However, when we pulled up—Joshua was a bit alarmed.  I don’t believe he expected me to carry through with what I had explained to him earlier.  I led him to the office with both his clothes nestled in the bag and his younger brother in tow—riding on my hip.  Susan was there waiting and like the precision of a swiss watch,  I gently handed her the bag and my son’s hand.  No words were exchanged.  Only a passing smile and an exchange of eye contact; the rest was in her hands. I had done my part for now.

The following morning, I again followed the new routine that Susan had schooled me in.  This time however, Joshua was half way dressed when we arrived; scrambling to dress in the car.  He finished dressing in Susan’s office that morning too.  The big shift came on day 3.  This time he was dressed and ready for school.  I never again had to say a word.  He was always ready; the drama gone.  As a matter of fact, when his brother David was around 5 or 6, there was a distraction one morning—probably a video game—I honestly do not remember, but David was not ready for school.  It was Joshua, who I overheard, telling his brother to get ready for school “DAVE, YOU DON’T WANT ‘THE BAG’ ! ”   I smiled and we headed out the door for school. It was a lesson for my kids, but a bigger lesson was for me.  And that made me smile.

“The only Journey is the one within.”

–Rainer Maria Rilke

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

Rewriting the Future

IMG_1208.JPGThree days before, Ela and I had driven our way into town, and we comfortably checked into a room we would be sharing for the next five days; everything seemed to show its age.  The hustle and bustle of the historical old Arlington Hotel was visible.  I equated it to the strain of a faded late-model Chevy and a few too many miles.  No one was counting as the odometer had simply pooped out years before.  The driver, still happy she got him faithfully to town and back when the occasion arose.  And yet, for the most part, no one seemed to notice.  The town was more famous for our now past president’s boyhood home and the old bathhouse relics which lined the main street; in their prime 100+ years before.  I had come here to partake in another Pineal Toning Choir, an exercise and purpose that spoke to me on a level far beyond any conscious reasoning or logical sense; the pull was too great.  I had been registered eons before the 1924 construction date of the Arlington or before this territory was called Arkansas; even perhaps before the Native Americans called it their home recognizing its sacredness as something special.

Yet interestingly enough, half-way through the day of our pineal tones Crystalline Choir recording and final performance, I had a serious passing thought: could this really be real?  We were over seven billion on the planet and counting and I was in a group of 300 souls singing tones in real time—in a quantum language—opening time capsules—placed here by our seed parents—thousands of years before and yet we were right on time.  I pondered the immensity of something so profound, as we continued to sing . . .  YOO EE YOO EE YOO EE YOO EE YOO .

This was my third choir, and somehow the most surreal for me.  We were rewriting the future.  Underway was a transmutation of the energies of trauma, suffering, hardship, and dolor history that had embedded itself in our earth and esoteric invisible crystalline grid.  It showed in our human experience and our collective low consciousness as war, death, sorrow, hardship. It showed in our politics, education, health care and beliefs about longevity, disease and women—all from our many expressions here on earth— stored and remembered at some unconscious level.    I knew it first hand or should I say, I had experienced it first-hand. This deep intense sorrow manifested itself years before on a trip with my husband and young boys.  We had driven through the battle fields of Mississippi and it was almost overwhelming for me despite the manicured green rolling hills and bright blue sunny day.  I felt such deep sadness present years after the last bullet was fired, the last solider killed and buried.  No one was there, and yet, the earth remembered and I felt it.  Now, it was time to erase all that.  It was time to “rewrite the grid” and overlay the new intentions for peace on earth, compassion and love towards each other, happiness, joy and beyond what we had come to expect of life here.  The cycles we knew so well would not be repeated.

The day before, our final performance, Marc, one of our choir directors had walked down the street in search of a local coffee bar/cafe. As synchronicity would have it, a conversation with a local Native American ensued. This conversation then led to an invitation for Lee Standing Bear Moore to speak briefly to our choir.  A tall distinguished soft spoken man with a long gray braid down the center of his back accepted the microphone.  Standing on stage in boots, a peach short-sleeved summer shirt and blue jeans, he spoke of the history and some of the more interesting legends of his people and their connection to this sacred ground they called, “Place of Peace or The Unbroken Circle: Manataka.” He ended with a website where more information could be found and left with a standing ovation.  I felt our oneness and our missions entangled together; everyone “playing” their part in the story of Earth and our ascension.

The next day, a physician from Canada shared a story from their website, Manataka—simply said from the text I quote below he summarized:

Stunned, the council did not know how to respond to the elderly Nun.”

       “We learned of your dream about the Place of Peace, also experienced by three other Sisters of your  church.  This is the dream we heard:  “A Light will be born at the Place of Peace that will grow and spread to many lands. . . .  It is now time to tell you the Crystal of Manataka is not only a symbol representing abstract and sacred meanings.  The artifact holds the key to opening a portal of high energy and frequencies, sacred sounds, partly necessary to giving birth to a light that will grow and spread to many lands.  The key, when used as a tool in conjunction with six other sacred crystals, placed in correct alignment and formation, will open the heavens of consciousness within humanity. “

Again, we were being given pieces and information hidden and then revealed when our understanding met our higher consciousness and pure intent within this present time of 2016.

We learned we were sitting on the largest deposit of quartz crystal on land; an inverted pyramid or mountain almost below our feet as well as transmitter of information. This deposit, a node, serving as an amplifier—and together with the diamond grid west of our locale was also assisting humanity with the potential for radical transformation and sweeping far-reaching leaps to a whole new world; a profound leap into the future both personally and within the area presented—locally, globally and galactically— connected to a null and the other half of this matched pair in Patagonia, Mt. Fitz Roy. This was about melting barriers to multidimensionality and interdimensional communication both from Dr. Todd, Lee Carroll, Kryon and to us.  The choir was the activation for this esoteric information to be released; the key.

This is all very philosophical.  It sounds like a science fiction screen play being bantered about by high profile Hollywood executives wondering if it will sell to investors and the mainstream public who buys tickets to reclining soft chairs in dark movie theaters while munching on buttered popcorn.   As the rewriting continues and as humanity shifts, we will one day look back and have valid evidence that this is in-fact—real, and profoundly altering states of consciousness and giving us the gift and opportunity for a new humanity.  After all, shifting belief systems change reality—and that creates a new future, one that we are “quickly” rewriting this very moment.  And, just like the old Chevy, the key is in the lock and the engine hums carrying us down the road into the future.  We may not know how the car gets us to town, but always does safely and for that we are grateful.  The same may be said for humanity’s new era—and for that we are grateful too!

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

http://www.CathrineSilver.com

 IMG_1124.JPG

 

Dear Dad . . . Open Letter for Father’s Day

IMG_0967

Dad’s 80th Birthday–with siblings:  L to R, Chris, Caryl, Cathrine, Charles Jr

Dear Dad,

I won’t be calling or sending you a card this year, but you already know that, don’t you?  It has been almost a year since your transition—or what I affectionally call ‘your graduation day’ (from earth school).  Your expansion and lessons for this incarnation complete. I cannot be sad; that would be selfish.  I saw your frustrations—exasperations—and vexations prior to your exit. Life did not hold the same pleasures or satisfaction; no words were necessary to explain, I knew. Unexplainable to most, I know you have not left me or anyone dear to you for that matter.   I know you are with me always—everyday—and every moment; divinity hidden behind the veil of mystery. Separation only an illusion.

We all react differently to death. I must say that I know you are around me more now than when you were here physically as my Father.  I know you helped me bury my cat Sasha last October.  In my minds-eye, I heard you tell me “go get your gloves and shovel.” We did that together. To confess, it’s not because I ever felt disconnected  but, because I know a piece of you has stayed with me and I know you understand more of what I’m about; who I am and what I believe.  I know I confused you at times; but that is ok too.  You get me now.  Your understanding has clarity. You exist in a quantum expression entangled with all here on Earth.

We said our good-bye’s in May.  I am grateful.  I never thought about what an example you were to me; I only hoped that I can impart these qualities to my own two sons. I share that now.  Perhaps, that is why we chose these soul relationships this time around?  You my father; I your eldest daughter.

I am grateful you showed me compassion by your way of being; your gentleness, caring, concern and kindness towards others. I say it kept me sane.  This way of being shown through with your customers at Equine House and the way you treated our animals; the horses, adopted dogs and barn cats.

You taught me about unconditional love.  When I married my now ex-husband, you may not have understood, but you assured me that as long as I was happy—you were happy too.  Not all parents can do that.  You stepped up when it counted.

As a young child and young adult, you always respected us—all of us.  You listened and tried your best to solve the crisis at hand;  I appreciated that you listened.  Sometimes, we just need to be heard; I needed to be heard and you were there.

You taught me patience and anticipation.  These were lessons while horseback riding, but they apply to life too.  I believe now they are a metaphor for how we live.  They were not fearful warnings, but common sense practical guidance. It works as well today, as it did decades ago. I know life is a wheel—constantly moving up and down.  Cycles within cycles; patience is key—so is trust. You taught me that too.

You taught me about the simplicity of the the small pleasures perhaps the real secret to life; that satisfaction from within.  The value of spending time with your children.  The side trips along small winding country roads back to the barns from the feed store or the hardware store. You held the space for the family vacations; that once a year camping excursion to The Big Woods camp ground, the Calgary Stampede, Grand Tetons or Yellowstone Park.  Thank you.  I too shared adventures with my sons while they were young.  I know they will one day look back fondly—just as I look back fondly now.  It could have been yesterday.

Most recently, I discovered you always loved to finish your dinner with a dessert. I never realized that growing up; maybe everything was lost in the hustle of school and hurried family dinners.  It was only when I visited those few weeks each year, I discovered this nugget.  I understand Grandfather was like that too—the apple never falls far from the tree.  (smiling) There was a child-like pleasure when Linda ( your wife) and I announced we had a sweet-treat to complete the meal baking in the oven.  A twinkle in your eyes, and smile as a child like innocence couldn’t contain the excitement over the confection presented; an image indelibly seared forever in my mind.  I recall the bakery that we used to visit every trip to Washington in La Conner; that delicious apple dumpling—more like a single serving apple pie!  How cool is that Dad? I found a recipe on line. I know you’ll enjoy it with me—when I make it at home!

And so, on this Father Day—I know you view the world differently these days from your new vantage point; I don’t know how that looks.  You know what I am thinking. You know more about me than I know about myself.  You know many of the secrets of the Universe that I would love to know—and that’s ok. I’ll wait.  But, one thing I do know, is love is something that rends the veil.  It is a multidimensional attribute.  And so, from my soul to yours, I wish you Happy Father’s Day—and Thank you for being you!  Recorded in the history of earth and humanity—that will never change and always be part of who we are—and who we have been and for that I can celebrate this day and all Fathers’ Days to come!

Love Always,

Cathrine

Oh, and no, I won’t forget the Vanilla Ice Cream—I know it wouldn’t be complete without the frozen sweet topping melting over the hot apple dessert!  LOL  Yum. 🙂

IMG_1270 (2)

Apple Dumpling ala mode, La Conner Bakery, La Conner, Washington.

The Four Corners; Lemons or Lemonade 

My kids cringed as I pulled the Land Cruiser over to the side of the shoulder, hopping out on the long deserted windy highway and picked a handful of stray wheat stalks, that were happily growing outside the farmer’s expansive cultivated land protected by the lonely never-ending barbed wire fence. Earlier, they shook their heads while I was still navigating my way out of Texas as I made a U-Turn to get a extraordinary picture of a beautiful row of tall sunflowers—asking Joshua and David to smile as I took their picture in front of the oh-so-tall-giant beauties.

IMG_0965Ah, the memories. I look back now and marvel at the fun-filled expeditions across the United States that I shared with my boys growing up; that small window of time—still being at home—and not having summer jobs—or big plans with their friends; I valued those summer moments even today.

Much to my husband’s displeasure, I didn’t travel with reservations.  I let the road and the enticement of curiosity and intrigue of our journey be our guide.  Yea, there was a general plan and route, and we participated in all the big tourist sights over the years : Carlsbad, Hoover Dam, Jackson Hole, Yellowstone, The Grand Canyon—Mt. Rushmore—and the Four Corners, Mesa Verde National Park; I could go on, Niagara Falls, San Francisco, the Pacific Coast highway, the famous tea-pot service station were buried in there too.

Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Arizona literally come together; intersections on the map—a quadipoint. The unique points of the compass; each state, staking their claim to the arid real estate. Four Corners, a home to one of our national parks— a piece of Navajo, Hopi, Ute and Zuni tribal Country; untamed, wild and harsh.

The long winding road that brought us in to the majestic park had been a tedious leg—as I followed behind RV, after RV up the inclined and narrow highway the 35+ miles.  I didn’t care that these folks towed their petite homes behind them, it was just a different pace for them, then it was for me.

Desolated, barren, remote and rugged, I was surprised the park offered hotel accommodations. Making the decision to stay for the night was a splurge.  We were all a bit tired, my ex-Mother-in-law in tow.  (She often traveled with me on these summer sojourns and it was always nice to have another adult in the car—although certainly not necessary or at times easy—she excitedly partook in our road trips.)  For my kids, it was nice to have “Grandma” along; a woman who always seemed to keep things interesting.

The park was home to the Cliff Dwellers and offered tours about the Hopi’s and other ancient populations who at one time had occupied the land.  We had come all this way—why not learn a bit about this unique Colorado Plateau and the Tribal Nations who inhabited it?

Although, I was pleased with this quiet high plateau desert stop—my kids were not so much.  This was one of the few room sans TV.  They survived amidst their mild protest.  I laughed about what a rut and routine we often find ourselves in; sympathy without television was not high on my list. We we here to explore and discover.  I remember the ruggedness of the views from the small balcony—sun setting.  The isolation. The apparent acerbity. A very different life. One that had not been easy and one without our modern conveniences or luxury; I appreciated the ease by which we traveled and filled our bellies.

The night had been restful. The solitude and stillness amazing and rejuvenating for me.  The sun welcomed us to the new day. With our belongings loaded in the back of the Toyota, I made my way back down the blacktop towards the office—reservations and checkout.  With everyone waiting in the Land Cruiser—I skirted in to check out.  We would be on our way to see the ancient ruins and history contained within the park’s borders— of Mesa Verde and all it had to offer. It gave us a chance to speculate on the mysteries and disappearance of an entire race. This much I knew. Included in my plans was a tour to learn more of the Native peoples in antiquity— known as Anasazi, and Pueblo and predated our current Native culture by several millennia.  Our plans were in place for the day . . . or were they?

My usual dress at the time was a pair of Ralph Lauren shorts—with the side pockets—causal Polo style shirts and sweater or sweatshirt when necessary—leather topsiders and my leather backpack.  I mentioned this only to illustrate the vast number of places a set of keys could hide.  Upon my checkout I trotted back to the vehicle.  I needed to re-park the Toyota as the tours’ of the ruins would take 4-5 hours.  Yet, I could not find my keys.  I checked and rechecked my pockets.  I asked the boys and Grandma patiently waiting in the car.  No keys. I returned back to the hotel front desk twice, even making them look behind the computers to see if the keys had inadvertently fallen between the higher check-out counter and the screens from which they worked.  Nope, nowhere—a dilemma at hand! Where could they have gone? I even questioned myself.  Yes, I had to have the keys—after all I had driven from our room to this point where we sat . . .  This time on my trip back to the Land Cruiser, my mind raced for solutions.  A thousand or so miles away from home—and no keys!  I went to the glovebox.  Maybe there was a number of a ‘local’ Toyota dealer who could somehow get us a key?  I started digging.  Glove boxes, or at least mine, are like that;  You never know what you will find.

Within minutes, of searching the Toyota literature, I came upon a very small, yellow plastic key—stuck on a card—as I remember the 5 x 7 size—Stuck with those glue globs that usually free things come with in the mail.  I peeled the flat plastic key away from the card.  “We can get home” I said with a smile, holding up the tiny treasure.  “Let’s go.”  We left the car and went to catch the shuttle—the driver delaying—I believe in hopes we would find our keys.

About four and a half hours later—our tours complete we returned to the car.  I must say we had had a terrific time. As a matter of fact, I had completely forgotten all about the missing keys and had just enjoyed settling into the “Now”; the sights and the history.  We would be back in the Land Cruiser soon, on to parts unknown and enjoying what cool things and other sights this country had to offer. Our summer journey matching on, uninterrupted.

But, what greeted us was another astonishment. There, taped to my door was a white paper; a note from the front desk which said: “WE HAVE YOUR KEYS!!”  How about that—I shared with the boys and my Mother-in-law.  They found our keys!  I opened the vehicle and told them to climb in—I would be right back.

I presented the note—and they presented my keys.  “Wherever did you find them?”, I asked.  The young gal holding the keys looked at me.  “A man took them, thinking they belonged to his daughter—and then was embarrassed to bring them back”, she shyly confided. Well, whatever the reason, I was indeed happy to be reunited with my ring of keys.

It had been a good adventure.  Quite happily, I had been able to enjoy the days plan—despite the monkey-wrench concerning my keys.  I didn’t look quite as crazy to the front dest, I thought, smiling to myself as I walked back down the path towards the truck.

Today, as I write and recall this story, I am not sure whether it was a “test” of living in the moment.  Part of a life puzzle of handling unforeseen circumstances . . . or a debt of karma. (Unfinished business with another) It really doesn’t matter. Whatever the moment, or circumstances, we are always at choice-point of how we handle the up’s and down’s of life and our day(s).  When we come from a place of trust, things usually have a way of working themselves out.  It seems it’s all a matter of perspective and how we react or don’t react. Whether we believe we can or can’t, we’re right.  What do you choose to believe today?  . . . .  Well, You’re right!  Happy Summer trails and adventures!  Make them GREAT!

IMG_0964

Moving Beyond Fear

As I pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall along Commercial Blvd, I sensed an uneasiness.  I was surprised—even at myself.  I had come for Salsa lessons. Something, I had wanted to do for a long time. Why would something I had looked forward to suddenly bring me unrest?  I stopped and turned off the ignition to the car.  I took a deep breath, staring straight at the dance studio in front of me from my parking spot.  Silently asked myself—what was I afraid of?  Could it be going by myself?  After all, I had resisted movies alone. No, I reasoned.  I had traveled extensively by myself; even driven across the country.  I had not only survived my divorce ten years prior, but in fact, felt I had thrived—stepping into my purpose and feeling a sense of self empowerment;  intuitively knowing I had grown into a more authentic-ness of my being.  Out of college, I had been hired as a sales representative for Pfizer.  On more than one occasion, I had been reduced to tears by the arrogance and rudeness of the physicians I called on; yet I persisted and excelled. I had gone back to school in my 40’s with eighteen year old college kids and found camaraderie and pure enjoyment.  It was funny  to me though,  how little things can trigger our insecurities in spite of how right certain things felt.  I had “survived” transformation training even becoming one of the leaders—of sorts.  A captain on a variety of athletic teams in my formative years was also a strength I seemed to possess.  I tossed the fear aside, and opened the car door. I focused on what I wanted to accomplish and why I had come.

I have gone back four times now—and each time becomes more comfortable.  We are all beginners—learning something new—and for my part having fun.  I recognize faces—and the other students recognize me.  Will I become a serious dance student?  A new interest?  Perhaps.  Right now, I will continue but, I ask, what if I had not taken the first step?  What if I had backed out and driven away?  How many times have we all done this, because the unknown prevents us from something positive?  I write this only to encourage you and to say, we all have our moments where we are unsure about new adventures, new jobs—and new opportunities.  What would you do if you weren’t afraid? I encourage you to take the leap.  You’ll be glad you did!

 

IMG_0687

“Sometimes what you’re most afraid of doing is the very thing that will set you free.” – Robert Tew

%d bloggers like this: