Apple – Vision for Our Future?

Most of us who have ever walked through the mall, know what the Apple store looks like, even if you have never owned a Mac or iPhone—or any Apple product. You have, however, probably noticed the busy hum from behind the glass windows as you walk by this praesepe. It is always like a big giant cocktail party without the cocktails! I preface this, because on Monday, I spent hours inside the store. First, making the appointment—then returning for my designated appointment time—and then making a third trip back to the store after a backup. (They gave me the option of backing up my computer before they unloaded my data and reloaded it back onto my computer.) Anyway, as I sat there going through the whole process waiting as the expert worked to diagnose my computer’s issue and then worked on a solution to fix it—I gazed out from my designated stool where I sat at the Genius Bar and took notice of the meld and diversity of clients, waiting, looking, shopping and learning. This was America. And our strength showed in the extreme diversity. Even more impressive, its cohesiveness.

With all the fighting and vitriol spit out by our current political administration—it was so nice to see what I believed along; we all have the ability to get along. The genius who helped me had many long colored braids. She was a multi-cultural mix very different than my own northern European lineage. She was Cuban and Puerto Rican and Polish and Russian and had this exotic beauty that radiated from her being. Sitting next to her, also being helped, was a gentleman from the Dominican Republic—and another from South America. We all shared many of the same concerns; we all wanted to live peacefully and in harmony with each other. Our conversation of agreement, not discord.

This picture and vision in my mind today made it very clear that we, as a great nation were founded on diversity; it is our strength. It’s funny how sometimes technology can bring us together in unsuspecting ways. I’m sure this was not exactly Steve Job’s vision, but one that was born out of his legacy, many years after his passing. I would say, the founding fathers may have had this vision too. Needless to say, if our current powers that be, could step down outside their ivory towers, they too might observe something their blinders have prevented them from seeing. Fear separates and tears us apart—love brings us together. If you are in one place, you can not be in the other. As we continue to shift and grow in conscious evolution, we will be more able to appreciate one another when we stand in compassion—and come from that small place which resides in our hearts; after all we all belong to the same human family. This is humanities alchemy; the magical process of transformation. If we could only look out over the Cosmic Sea of Oneness and see our sameness—the world can shift much faster. Oh, maybe we can?  I saw that vision of Oneness in the Apple Store last Monday—and so can you! 

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Reflections and Musings for 2019

You know, I’m in kind of a reflective place today. My newsletter will be sent out later than I like. The calendar has flipped a page—day, month and year. And, nothing seems normal anymore.  The holiday season is officially over. Craziness and chaos seem to be the norm. I feel like if we were buckets of paint—the paint is swirling and changing colors and creating new patterns, textures and doing things that paint just doesn’t do. Should I fear this new paint—or should I enjoy a little inter-dimensional finger painting and embrace the fun?

I don’t know if it has to do with the transits and electromagnetic energy—the eclipse’s, the new moon(s) or the catalyst energy of 2019. (Although I know it started decades ago.) I don’t know if it has to do with new and continuing cosmic data coming in from space. I don’t know if it’s our relationship to the invisible cosmic realm that’s triggering our changes, both within ourselves—and then slowly spilling out into our institutions, politics, and society?  But this intention and wave of multidimensional energy is taking place within us and is being reflected back at us daily; a new truth and way of being–emerging from a long amnesiac hibernation? We’re just not the same as we were. I believe this to be a good thing, yet it seems as we are struggling with all these changes at once. We seemed to have jumped the tracks and we are entangled in our own cosmic web of illumination. Are we finally growing up? Perhaps, we are just starting to work more efficiently, our quantumness awakened that “god particle” and we are learning—stepping into our divine potential as humans to a world we can’t remember? Even the french car Citroën wasn’t very successful driving on three tires! Our low consciousness hasn’t been great for us either.

As I look around, many people are continuing to leave, and we are missing them. My Mother’s estate is finally getting settled. I gathered the usual cast of characters (my friends and students) for Thanksgiving and we had a great dinner sitting outside underneath the string of lights and warm temperature of south Florida. I attended a gay christmas party—and for those who resist and judge such lifestyles—I say that love cannot be legislated and we need to embrace all in LOVE. I look forward to a bit of traveling in 2019—enlightening experiences that come with sacred ceremonies—full moon and drum circles, the pineal tone choir, all awakening in my present self—those ancient memories, bringing the language of light to our physical experience now. The synchronicities and meaningful coincidences continue to occur with meaning at lightening speed.

We were given another gift 200,00 years ago by our seed parents as nulls and nodes continue to open like “cosmic eggs” (my visual) providing new and important “information” assisting us to make this leap to higher consciousness possible; we have and we are getting it bit by bit. I know, that in spite of the fighting, and how it looks on the news—things are eventually going to turn out fine.

I believe with all my heart we are slowly pushing the old energy out, which btw, is kicking and screaming. After all they are the ones who have controled us by promoting drama, war, and fear. NO more—it is a new day—a new time and a new era in our much bigger cosmic calendar. We are witnessing this change before our eyes. And, as painful as it is to watch, we as a collective are changing for the better. I look forward to old systems falling and new working systems implemented—as we participate with Gaia bringing LIGHT and this new day to Earth where we can finally celebrate peace and “live together as ONE.” However, in the meantime—bucket your seatbelt, for the ride ain’t over yet and keep your paints handy. Who says interdimensional finger painting can’t be fun to ease the chaos, stress and tap into your eternal cosmic self?

Wishing everyone a prosperous, healthy, and enlightening year ahead!

 

 

Frogs and Other Wildlife—Way Beyond Our Conscious Understanding and Our Connection to the Earth

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“Mankind has not woven the web of life.  We are but one thread within it.  Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves.  All things are bound together.  All things connect.”                       ~ Chief Seattle       

Several weeks ago, while out tending to my plants around my patio and pool—I peered closely into two plastic containers that had been just the right size replacements for an old ornate planter which I bought second hand from my neighbor across the street. Fast forward ten years and after the last hurricane, now sat waiting for me to reposition them again into the iron holder. But, I had not been diligent enough and an unassuming frog had laid her eggs after one of our torrential rains of South Florida’s hot, humid and tropical rain-filled summer.

I instantly became a nurturing guardian to this surprising batch of now-tiny polliwogs. I have been feeding them romaine lettuce each morning and earlier in the week I peeked over closely to check on the rapidly growing amphibians. To my utter surprise, a tiny frog suddenly appeared and gazed back at me “fingers” gripped to the edge of the orange plastic container that had become her make-shift pond and nursery.

What had been the message? I was definitely enjoying the connection. It had been decades since I had seen the jell-like eggs and polliwogs in the large construction puddle behind our house when our neighbor, Mr. Neuman, was working on his home. They had also been visible in the pond and cattails that grew near the Barns where we kept the horses—and every now and then, my brother and I would wander down to take a look during some of our outdoor adventures together.

But why now? What was this message and connection that had reappeared so suddenly in my yard? I knew the ancient peoples, and the indigenous cultures, including our own Native Americans, understood this connection more deeply; they were wise. They also understood our connection to the earth—and the messages contained in their symbols and stories and celebrated the Oneness and its meaning. I certainly was aware of the abuses—the grab and take all that had recently permeated the United States attitude at levels of destruction and abuse of our home—the planet earth. And, the disrespectful desire to pummel all that stood in the way of this broken attitude of money and power—but I hardly believed that was their message to me.

I consulted a wiser source than myself; the book, Spirits of the Earth began: “Frogs are good signs. The Frog is a doctor and a healer, seer, and fortune-teller. Frog is a messenger of rain, and the power of the frog can bring rain and water if one knows how to use its power.” Animal Speak confirmed and added, “Its voice is said to call forth the rains. And they are linked with the lore of fairies and elves. Ted Andrews also wrote that “frogs are tuned keenly to sound—and the sensitivity to sound should be developed by frog people.” (Was I a Frog people?) The last sentence  caught my attention, “Their taste in music will probably not run mainstream, but they can learn to use their voice to stir the emotions and to call for the rains or change the climatic conditions of their own lives.”

I found this interesting as it fell right along my chosen profession at this time—Holistic Health Counselor. I felt I had found my niche as a biological decoder, grief counselor and spiritual teacher.  I was also interested in a unique sound healing—quantum codes of sorts. Was Chief Seattle correct? Did all things connect together?  It was certainly part of my belief system—and for all intents and purposes “hopped right into my yard” showing me again the true connection we have with Mother Nature and our Earth at a very personal level. The micro and the macro intertwined as One.

What symbols, or messages have shown up for you? Are you missing something right in front of you? And, what is the story and how does it apply to you? Working the Cosmic puzzle daily can be fun. What new beliefs are you now opening to?

For more information on biological decoding, grief counseling or channeling, please visit http://www.cathrinesilver.com

 

“More Stars in the Sky Than Grains of Sand on Earth.”

I have read that there are more stars in the sky than grains of sand on the Earth, and it certainly seemed to be true the night Brad and I camped at Whiskeytown Shasta – Trinity National Recreation Area in northern California. The vastness of the Universe has held humanity’s attention for eons—and tonight was no exception for me. It was a rather spontaneous stop garnered by a quick internet search earlier that afternoon.  Yes, we were able to reserve a camp spot—and even pay the nominal fee over the phone with a credit card.  That was the easy part. As was our greeting by the National Park security who checked our name off the list and gave us verbal instructions and a cryptic map which designated our “C-16” spot that would be our “home” and rest spot for the night. However, by the time we reached the parking lot—complete darkness had set in—and in spite to producing two small flashlights—the layout—the paths—the markings and the darkness made the discovery of our campsite a bit of a challenge.  Was this a metaphor for us, for humanity as well?

Our persistence paid off and after about 45 minutes, our 3-4 minute walk downhill to the water and our camp site numerous times had us somewhat settled in—tent, sleeping bags and even two folding chairs—which provided the scenic views to the heavens.  We literally tailgated on the back of the pickup truck on the asphalt parking lot finishing cold chicken and fruit and by 11:00 P.M. found ourselves back down sitting in our observation chairs—sipping a glass of wine and relaxing in the fairly quiet wilderness.  (The “neighbors” kids finally began to get quiet and the dog was at last peaceful—lol—woof-woof.) So much as a break from suburbia!

As I stared out into the heavens, I wondered, what lay beyond the boundaries of our human existence?  Who were we really, behind the cloaked veil that our daily lives consumed?  And, where did we come from?  There are many who believe that we are seeded from the stars—that philosophy, when I thought about it, felt right.  Were we seeded from the Pleadians two hundred thousand years ago?  Were these light beings our divine parents from a lineage billions of years old?   Were we the “new kids” on the block? There were many indigenous and ancient peoples whose creation story linked us to the stars—and each story to each other, even though there was no means of communication between them.  These stories were etched and painted upon the caves and artifacts over the millennium.  There were sightings of lights where no electricity existed—Mt. Shasta was certainly one—Hawaii and Uluru were other places of magic. Our knowledge so limited, and our technology still primitive—gave us little understanding of the vastness and infinite makings of the multiverses and galaxies beyond our closest frontiers.

And, so it was, as I drifted off to sleep—thinking about my adventure to east Texas to reclaim my old MGB with my friend Brad and the stars that filled my imagination and my fascination.  It had been a long hot day and we had already crossed many miles when my tired body laid upon the air mattress. What did we really know?

Battle Cruiser

I met the truck only the afternoon before.  My friend Brad had named it the Battle Cruiser with the plate to match: BTLCRSR.  I must admit, it was certainly not a pretty sight. The yellow paint faded—exposed rust in certain places and green moss covering parts of the exterior and hood. It’s four and a half decades were evident; it was a work horse.

After some coaxing, the loyal truck came to life.  I was happy to see the life return as the deep throaty motor sounded like a tired warrior awakening as daybreak arose too early: Brad pumped the gas pedal and cajoled the old Ford pickup into being.

I had a mission—and needed the Battle Cruiser’s help.  The instructions from Brad were simply that first gear was not necessary—to low a gear to start. “Use second” he said. Easy enough I thought and nodded, as I climbed in the next morning and sat in the driver’s seat, starting the engine.  After decades of smaller and smaller cars—and trucks—this old relic was immense.  As tall as I am—and as long a reach as I have—I could not, even leaning over and stretching, open and unlock the passenger door from the inside.   Were the vehicles really this big???  Wow.

And, so it was, I shifted the truck into gear, lifted the clutch and headed up the wooded driveway finding my way to the 101 and to the Kingston-Edmonds ferry off the Olympic Peninsula and toward Bellevue; my childhood home. I thought about my mission to save the trash burner—a request out of my Mother’s house—before it’s fate met the awaiting bulldozer; demolishing it to the ground.  Another era gone.  As I pulled out of the driveway and on to the Sequim neighborhood graveled road, I felt my Father sitting in the passenger’s seat.  Perhaps, he felt my bit of nervousness, apprehension, or trepidation with the old truck?  At any rate, I felt the reassurance as the memories of familiar childhood adventures surfaced.  This time however, I was driving—and he was riding.  I continued my drive south 42 miles to the Washington State Ferry terminal; my mind concentrating on the road as I roared along feeling like something out of Mad-Max Road Fury.

I thought about the laughter that ensued when I voiced my request for the trash burner; I had my reasons and I didn’t really care what anyone thought.  I pulled up to the toll booth to purchase my round-trip fare.   “Lane six”, said the woman in the toll booth as she handed me my change and receipt.  I smiled and thanked her, easing the truck back into gear and driving forward into my designated parking lane to await the Ferry’s arrival into Kingston terminal. Settled, I hopped out of the Battle Cruiser and headed up to grab a cup of coffee—standing in line—I heard someone shout—“Here comes the ferry.”  I abandoned the line and headed back to where the truck was parked.  The adventure had been so smooth thus far and all was going as planned.  Or so I thought.

Lane five moved beside me and I turned the key in the ignition to start the engine.  Nothing. I turned the key off and on once again.  Nothing. I pumped the gas pedal and tried several more times to start the engine . . . nothing.  Not even a peep from the mechanical beast from which I sat behind the steering wheel slightly panicked and watching the other vehicles and passengers drive past me and onto the loading dock—and onto the green and white vessel that crosses Puget Sound so regularly.

“Are you in trouble?” the WSF* system employee shouted, I nodded—“yes, I think I am,” I answered back.

“I’ll get someone to help you.” And, I climbed out of the Battle Cruiser wondering, what just happened?

Within minutes, another, employee named Sarah had wheeled over a portable battery charger to jump the truck.  She stopped—and pointed to the winch on the front bumper.  I turned my head and stared, “Oh, sh-t,” there was smoke coming from the winch. Whirling back towards the terminal—she said—“I’ll be right back—stand back.” I looked at the winch with disbelief, and within moments she was back with a large fire extinguisher ready to douse any flame should it appear and this situation become worse.   With the 11:55 am ferry loaded—I watched my ride sail away—wondering how long I would be sitting on the Kingston dock—somewhat helpless and wondering what was next?

Before I realized, there was more than five WSF employees who appeared from almost nowhere—pitching in to work on the truck. Now, I will tell you, that I feel I have many talents—but auto mechanic—is NOT one.  I was raised helping my Dad with horses, not automobiles and besides having the oil changed, stopping for gas or running the car through the car wash—my desire ended there.  So, the fact that this help had arrived with a positive attitude and generous giving spirit brought me tremendous gratitude to my uncertain circumstances. I explained, that I had just met the truck the previous afternoon . . . it was on loan from a friend.

And, so with an obvious quick assessment of a trauma medic, it was agreed that the winch wires needed to be cut; disconnect the source of the problem! In agreement and with a plan, we began, focused on the task at hand.  I choose to look under the front seat for something that might be able to help cut the wires to the bilious dying winch—and happily came up with a small pair of wire cutters.  Phoning Brad, I explained the dilemma and what had happened.   He offered to come save me—but I told him I thought I was in good hands; I would certainly let him know if I needed his help.

As I turned around to offer the red-handled tool to my new “pit crew” a man two rows over held a crescent wrench, another pair of cutters and gloves.  He began to disconnect the battery.  I turned back around and another lady asked for water.  I handed her mine—and she worked with precision filling the dehydrated battery cells.  I glanced over and noticed that another gentleman was leaning over the front fender and working in hyper speed skillfully cleaning contacts and then rerouting the wires that connected the solenoid, to the battery and to the ailing winch.  (Which apparently was the reason the truck wasn’t starting when jumped.)  This man, wearing a bright orange T-shirt with motorcycle designs, white hair and beard, and half smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth worked with such expertise we all sort of stepped back; everyone seemed to sense his mastery.  Before long, the “bull” arrived and another attempt at starting the disabled Battle Cruiser began.  We—the truck and I— had definitely developed a bond since I had first climbed aboard hours before.  This time when I turned the ignition—the resuscitation of the Battle Cruiser was successful and it issued it’s healthy roar.  I literally welled up as the “pit crew” and other waiting passengers in line clapped and cheered at our triumphal achievement.  I stepped out with a big smile and thanked everyone. The battery cable clips came off and the hood came down—just as the next ferry was pulling into the dock.  The lady in the car next to me handed me a wet wipe—she said, “they’re really for make-up but I think they will work great for the grease on your hands.”  I hadn’t even noticed.  Another woman came up to me—and said, “If they load and you aren’t signaled—please go ahead to me.” I thanked her too.   This was a reminder of humanity at its best.

I waved and honked in gratitude as “Sarah” waved me on . . . I was the first one on the ferry for that crossing and I felt very honored.

I reflected back on all the chaos in Washington D.C—the hatred and vitriol spewed by so many these days. There was certainly no fence sitting anymore; all was being revealed.  You could not be someone you weren’t.  I believe deeply we are all the same; okay—we may look a bit different—but we are all pieces of the divine.  I believed humanity was proving it’s chance for goodness and light; in fact we seemed to be at war with the darkness: greed and lack of integrity and hatefulness.

The event on the Kingston Dock certainly cemented my belief in humanity’s goodness—something I wished the evening news focused on more—not the inherent fear, fear and fear they sold to their vulnerable audiences daily. It is our power of intent—our desire of compassion—and our tolerances and acceptances of our differences which make us strong.  Our common goal must be one of LOVE—which if you haven’t heard, is the most powerful force in the Universe.  LOVE changes physical things and it will change our world too.  The time is now—and we are the Ones! The powerful  difference we each make based on our choices every day changes our world. And, that’s the world I choose to see and live in.

The rest of the trip was seamless and the trash burner is safely stored in Sequim—waiting for its return to service.  I on the other hand—look forward to the next adventure—whenever and however it presents itself. Namasté.

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

Cathrine Silver is a Board Certified holistic counselor with a practice in Lauderdale by the Sea, FL. She is the author of the book, Riding the Light Beam: How Any Woman Can Find the Hero Inside available at Amazon.com. She can be contacted via email at cathysilverhealth@gmail.com. For more information visit www.CathrineSilver.com.

As a post note:  I learned that the man in the orange T-shirt name was Richard.  He was a master mechanic and forensic scientist from the Tri-Cities who had been visiting his wife whose daughter was due to have surgery.  I had gone upstairs on the ferry to use the restroom and have a snack.  I purchased clam chowder and a water—and upon walking up to the cashier—made a last minute decision to add a beer.  LOL—it had been quite a morning.  I sat down—and Richard walked by.  I called his name, and asked him if he drank beer.  He replied—“On occasion.” 

“Can I buy you a beer”, I enquired? He nodded.  I got up and went back to the cashier and returned to the cafeteria where Richard sat.  “It’s the least I can do.”  “Thank you for everything” I said—“I have a feeling—I would still be sitting on the dock without you stopping by.”  He said, “I saw the hood of the truck raised.  I travel with my tools.” 

 I will always be grateful for all who gave me help that day.  On some level, we are always watched over—and he was one of my Earth Angels that day.  I was glad I could offer the simple gesture of thanks. 

*Washington State Ferry

Summer Adventures Past and Present

Sun Lakes, Washington, circa 1968, July 12th.  I am holding my birthday cake—and the picture is with my siblings. I was 11. My memory decades later is that the wind was so fierce I thought the candles would blow off the cake. Even today, as I look at the picture there are NO lit candles!  (smiling) The family vacation that year took us on to Yellowstone.  The National Park is such a unique place on earth and holds amazing memories for me; we stayed at the historical Old Faithful Inn and, of course, saw Old Faithful (Geyser) in action. In addition to the unpleasant sulfur smells coming from the hot spots which have made Yellowstone National Park so famous, we witnessed a woman positioning herself in a picture with a Mother bear and her two cubs.  Are you kidding? We saw moose strolling across the road and standing in the rivers, heard wolves or coyotes in the far distance and watched endearing critters in all forms; squirrels, crows, raccoons.

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Sun Lakes, Wa- Happy 11th Birthday!

There were other camping memories I hold including catching fish in the Big Wood River in Idaho, getting stopped in a road search for an escaped felon near Billings Montana, when we visited the Grand Tetons, and getting to stay at the “Let ‘er Buck Motel one night in Pendleton, Oregon when my Dad was just too tired to drive the five plus hours home, are my distant past adventures.   The world is full of wonderful things and it gives our lives an expanded meaning, discovery and wonder of who we are when we explore beyond our familiar “village”.

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Yellowstone National Park

Decades later, circa 1996, Nacogdoches, Texas, I would take to the highways once again with my boys on adventures of our own.  I still remember today that Stalactites hold tight on the ceiling and stalagmites might reach the ceiling, learned on a stop in Carlsbad Caverns while heading west.  The Grand Canyon and Pacific Coast Highway were other places of wonder. We would see Sea Lions, roast hotdogs on the beach, explore the waterfront of San Francisco, ride a cable car and enjoy a harbor tour around Alcatraz Island.  We visited Wyoming, staying in Jackson Hole, Telluride, Ouray, Durango, Silver City, in Colorado, and “happen” upon the small historic Tea Pot Dome Service Station in Zillah, Washington built in 1922. I had seen it growing up and it was such a delight surprise that I came upon it along Hwy 82 on one of those road-trip summers. Mark Twain once penned, and I would add with great wisdom, “Travel is fatal to narrow-mindedness, prejudice and bigotry.”

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Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, circa today. As the 2017 summer begins, another adventure awaits me, and looks completely different than the others.  This time, it is to retrieve my old 1970 MG.  It was my first car and one I bought in college—and has been sitting in Texas which had been my home for many years.  A friend of mine is picking me up at Sea-Tac and we are heading down I-5 into California and then ultimately east towards Texas.  Our plan is to see parts of Arizona and explore New Mexico—a place he has never been; and ironically one of my favorite states.  What lies beyond these words as my journey unfolds, as I step out of the airport, I cannot say.  However, I embrace the words of physician, philosopher and poet Debasish Mridha, “Life is a magical journey, so travel endlessly to unfold its profound and heart touching beauty.”  Inspirational writer Lailah Gifty Akita notes, “Adventure begins with a thought, decision and action.”

And now I ask, “What is your heart’s desire?”  Where does your wanderlust pull you?  Is there a place you have read about or have seen in pictures that you want to visit? If you don’t do it today, then when?

Enjoy your summer adventures—whether it is a trip to your local state park, searching for Lighthouses, an ocean picnic to a different coast or drive across the state, just because.  Pick something that sounds fun and make it so!

“The world is full of wonderful things you haven’t seen yet. Don’t ever give up on the chance of seeing them.” — J.K. Rowling

Embrace the Light, We Need Love Not Hate . . . In the Position of Presidency Now.

Sitting in traffic today, I reflected again on the current state of affairs taking place at every level of our society, which has been highlighted by the White House and influences surrounding Trump including “conservative” big money donor billionaires who stand against what the majority want for our future, and fearful small minded individuals who chortle ideas of isolation and protectionism from “liberal ideals” screaming exclusion to anyone or anything which seems to disagree with their ideology or is “different”.

This small-minded non-astute fear and hate comes in many forms, names and disguises*.  It is very unbecoming to humanity—especially in our land that espouses so many opportunities and was built on the philosophy; freedom for all.  Why have we slapped labels on everyone we encounter?  It really seems a revelation of our ability and depth for compassion action towards others—or lack thereof—our inclusion—or lack of—or our love or our hate and fears now un-hide-able and on display for all to see no matter if you are red or blue—pink, purple, green or orange.  The era of fence sitting is over.  We cannot pretend to be one way and really act another behind closed doors.  The truth is upon us.  For some it will hurt—for others they will be seen as the compassionate human beings they have always been.  But why have we labeled this as conservative and liberal?  Can’t we just call it, “accountable”?  Isn’t it really a war between light and dark? Between choosing love or fear?

I lived in Texas.  I lived in Iowa.  I grew up in Seattle.  And I have made south Florida my home for the last dozen years.  I have a college degree which exposed me to many individuals—all students together on the large campus in Washington and the small one in Nacogdoches, Texas.  My ex-husband spent eight years in the army as part of the medical corps—and the exposure was enlightening. Early in my marriage we drove through many countries in Western Europe. I have traveled to Hawaii, California, and many other states exploring, and traversing the United States with my kids and ex-Mother-in-law in tow.  I lived in England for a short stint—and I took in foreign exchange students from around the globe.  I am proud to say that in my experience, and underneath it all, most everyone just wants to be happy—they seek love.  They want to care for their children.  They want to provide for their families.  They talk of their childhoods. They talk of their parents; their courtships. They want nourishing healthy food to eat.  They love to laugh. They want to help the underprivileged. They want to be well, and have clean water to drink.  They want good education themselves and for society–their children.  Most everyone likes a good story and enjoys sharing theirs—to be heard.  Goodness rules most of the time and is normally quiet—fear and hate are loud, obnoxious and need to have the attention to control; force and broadcast as fear is their motto and mechanism.  This is old paradigm—old energy survival still clinging for “life.”   Haven’t we outgrown this old paradigm, Donald?  Or are you just the one elected to shake the fence of comfort?

We are all here as souls to make a contribution to the evolution of humanity.  Because, “they”, like “I” are all part of the divine creator. Whatever the face of God looks like to you, I ask, how can we spew such vitriol at each other when we all come from the same place?  Different names and different rituals, and different traditions, we are all part of the vast and unknowable living soul of the cosmos.  And, I wonder out loud, how anyone can be so arrogant as to feel they are better than and know more than others?  To push their beliefs as the law of the land which simply doesn’t fit into my box is wrong—so why do they insist I live in theirs? Who made that rule?  Can’t we figure out how to live in peace where the one with the most testosterone doesn’t have to dominate and control others? Where is the tolerance and empathy? Why do they hold us small? Don’t we need and want a country where we can all honor our differences and respect one another?

I am proud of the judge in Seattle.  I believe he ruled correctly. (And the court in San Francisco also.) And now Hawaii. This was a ban of prejudice and exclusion that could only be based on fear. Ironically, Trump seems to want to isolate us, like he has isolated himself in his ivory tower—exploiting many for his gain.  (I have no proof, but suits against him for not paying people for work they have done in good faith are well documented, and I am sure there are many unscrupulous actions and intentions that certainly have crossed the line of decency. Which is oddly deemed as “successful” and even admired in our culture.  What happen to words like, wisdom, courage, love, temperance, or integrity—or kindness, fairness, gratitude, humility, beauty of our earth or excellence?  And we all know, how you do anything, is how you do everything.)

Miami is a multi-cultural melting pot—and a microcosm of our country; there are many more “Miamis” outside Florida.  The faces and heritage have continued to change over the decades and will change into the future. We have all come from somewhere else, no matter who we are when you go back far enough.  Even bigger, we are all a melting pot. It is most obvious for anyone to see.  Perhaps a bigger question to ask, is their hatred of others, really a deep self-loathing mirror about how they feel about themselves?  Is it a revealing portrait of how this lack and never-ending abyss of not-enough is camouflage for self-abomination, and hatred of self, whose actions are bullying, lying, narcissism, control and the perpetuation of fear?  It shows in every other way as well:  Lack of respect for women and the choice for caring and making decisions for ourselves on what is right for us or the total disrespect for the LBGTQ community is disgraceful.  The budget presented recently is certainly another reflection of Trump and the White House’s lack of compassion and concern for others; Military guns, aircraft fighters and destruction, his choice over peace, negotiation and compromise?  Really, are you serious?  Has anyone told him and his merry band that the old prophecies have passed?  That is not the plan for Earth.  It is time to look forward to something new, positive and elevating; we passed that marker—that potential gone.  Why do you keep revisiting this doom and gloom?  Are you trying to be right?

If he wants his fantasy Kingship to be one of greatness, this “Wildcard” in the White House, needs to bring us to unity, love, tolerance, compassionate action and peace both here and around the world: we must set the example.  Otherwise he will go down in flames with the other arrogant leaders of history that thought they were unreviewable and untouchable.  The energy does not support his actions and time will simply reveal his true intention of light or dark.  . . .

Yet the real catalyst may be the stirring within each one of us.  Somehow, when we think its another’s problem, we don’t have compassion for another’s plight or struggle—until it hits close to home.  I watched and read a number of emotional pleas from red state Trump voters who came very close to losing their health care—and their meals. Even PBS’s Big Bird’s head is on the chopping block.  One woman from Indiana was upset when she learned her husband was being deported—he apparently had never completed paperwork—and is now sitting with ICE to be sent back to Mexico in spite of living here for decades.  She was astounded because in her mind—only “bad” people would be deported.  Hitting home stirred her beliefs and her viewpoint.  When we live in a box that does not include others who are different from ourselves, we never change our view of life.  Human nature always seems to point to someone else’s plight and fault—but that’s old too.

We must all take part and perhaps that is what we are being called to do . . . stirrings of a civilization growing up. In the end, Love “trumps” hate which ironically seems to be lost on our leadership today.  And when the leadership understands this, we will be better able to move forward in a more astute way; it is not us against them.  No one ever wins this way, with this mentality.  Our goals of the future, must be goals for humanity, where peace, benevolence, and compassion is given to all including our home, we call Planet Earth.  When we embrace this vision, red, blue, pink, purple, green or orange can come together in unity. Perhaps, we are the army that is being called forth? Can you visualize this unity, peace, love and compassion for all? I believe it is up to us, not just our leadership.  And, if those in Washington, D.C. choose not to carry this vision for us—we can do it for ourselves because it’s our world and there are millions of us to stand together in Love!  This is the power we hold. See and embrace the light!

“Governments cannot exist in an old paradigm when those they rule are in a new one.”

*The Immigration Ban

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