Choir Adventures in Avalon

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Sometimes changes are subtle. Changes can be “quiet.” Small things can be Life-changing. And, some changes don’t make the 6 o’clock news.

The last week in May, I participated in another Pineal Tone Choir.  This year it was in England; Bath. Cute historic villages which dot the English Countryside where history gets written and then forgotten in legend; until we are reminded once again.  Bath is very close to the small and quaint town of Glastonbury—with a history that dates back thousands of years. I understand Jesus and his Uncle made three trading trips to Glastonbury; tin was the metal needed in Palestine at the time.  It was a village of natural sustenance; the place where we romanticize and connect with wandering musicians, poets, and hard fought battles. This was the place able to amplify human consciousness due to the strength of the invisible crystalline grid.  This was also the place able to amplify the desires that exist within every person—known as the “hero’s journey.” The place of King Arthur, Excalibur, The Stone and the Sword.

Last year, in France—400 people from 44 countries gathered for this extraordinary event.  This year there were 440 of us from 40 countries demonstrating the soul family exists outside of our biological family one: we are truly connected to one another in a very profound way.  Choir members feel like long-lost soul brothers and sisters. Was this the greater truth in our voyage to earth? Was the intention to own and amplify our magnificence?  And, in turn help the world to feel theirs as well? A vision and metaphor of what can be?

The Avalon Choir, gathered to sing tones that have been given to Dr. Todd who has a relationship with “those that set them up”—a light language—or quantum code—when sung in pairs with pure intention—open time capsules—and match up polarity points on Earth, change our DNA, and work to awaken new consciousness.  The changes are powerful. In fact the true power comes when the toning is combined with a Consciousness of Action. This action is leading us to a destination that human consciousness hasn’t seen before. Spurred on by the Procession of the Equinox—this 36 year window—is changing the course of humanity along with our Pure Intention.  And, one of the biggest take-aways—is “History will no longer drive the future!”  In-between the HA, HA, HA’s and the AUU, AUU, AUU’s there is perfection and harmony. We as a race are connected intimately and on a fast-track into our future.  And, that future includes LIGHT! Because the tones were developed for our biology by the Superhuman’s from the STARS who set them up, I would bet that we are right on schedule!

What else did we learn in England? We ARE from the STARS.  This is the creation story of the indigenous—and it is modern man’s too. As we move away from our dysfunction, we will begin to change the parameters, and see this system which will move us more deeply into the AGE of COMPASSION.

Glastonbury is where the legend of the Sword and the Stone originates. But it is bigger than this small village west of London. The sword we know has many names—and personalities.  Here it is called Excalibur; a master of its own, stuck in the Rock. The ROCK cannot be destroyed.  As with all great legends, we know the Rock with a Sword in it has been there a long time. The ROCK represents the Darkness of the Past. Who pulls it out of the stone?  The One who has destiny on their side—the energy of Light and the Magic carried inside.  We are the fifth civilization who has tried to pull the sword out—the four others before us failed. The name of the individual in this scenario? It is not man, or woman. It is the human being—or humanity—this civilization #5, and our destiny is change.

And, as the human steps up to the platform and looks at the sword; WE smile. We now know the Sword will come free. We have figured it out. We have the magic. We have a wizard. It’s called 23 pairs of chromosomes. Where does our personal superhuman wizard come from? It is in our DNA, given to us by our seed parents—the Pleiadians—and it is inside of us. Because we have their biology. It is not in a few—but in all of us. (plus the 24 pair which is multidimensional and therefore not yet “seen”.) We are ALL from the Stars. And, when we acknowledge our Wizard, we acknowledge the creation of the wizard as well. Today we may call it our higher-self. But the Magic we carry is God INSIDE. That is what our seed parents from the star system of the Seven Sisters—the Pleiadians gave to us.  And, when we grasped the sword and pull it out of the stone—“everyone” knew.  This is what happen in 2012. And, during that choir in Maui, when we held the Sword up high; the change began. The galaxy celebrated our achievement!

This is the Hero’s journey completed.  Yet, this is not the end of the story.  It’s only the completion Part I. This battle of darkness is one that we have begun with sincere and intense conviction. We have more Light than ever before, and we have a wizard helping us along the way.  And with our fellow Lightworkers—our companions—WE WILL PREVAIL. In every Hero’s journey, there is romance, victory,  great depth, intensity and emotion. ALL ours.

The name of the Sword is peace on Earth, and we know it by many names. The reward for the journey is they say, is not the peak for which we all strive. It is always the here and now. The journey of humanity is no different. And as the Sword (peace on Earth) starts to glisten and shine in the Light, We as humanity will take the Sword, walk it out of the station, ready to do battle with Darkness, knowing we have already won.

This is not the end of the journey—but a new beginning. We have entered a new Time. We have pulled out the sword—we have met the Wizard inside—and We now know we have help. We are illuminated and full of Light. Perhaps, one day it will be on the “6 o’clock news!” Until then, as Jefferson STARSHIP sang . . . “Nothing’s going to stop us now.”

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The Sword and the Stone(s) – 2018 Update

IMG_8076 (1)This story sounds like a fairy tale and so is aptly named. And, like all good fairy tales, it begins with once upon a time.  It starts in Glastonbury, England—where the legend of King Arthur, The Knights of the Round Table and fair maidens lived—and like all galactic tales of long ago and far away, become real—just like the velveteen rabbit when infused with love and belief which circulates amongst many and brings life to days gone by, because there is truth in all things.  But this tale goes much further back in time—to what some consider a mythical island or lost continent known as Lemuria—the land of Mu. To some it truly is a fable, although to the Lemurians, and their descendants, very much real and alive—and part of our modern human lineage which took root more than 100,000 years ago and more so than many could possibly realize or for some, accept. And so, we begin, 26,000 years ago.

Once upon a time in the Land known as Lemuria,  a beautiful island  filled with lush gardens,  gorgeous flowers and abundance.  Now on the Island, there lived a great priest and scientist whose name was Yawee.  Unlike most inhabitants, who lived near the sea, Yawee lived high atop the mountain—the highest mountain on earth at the time.  The temperature was very cold and the air extremely thin, but he had ancient knowledge from his Star Mother which kept him warm for he was atop a big volcano. Runners would deliver necessary food and supplies, and special rocks provided the oxygen necessary, so he could do his work in the temple. He lived a very long time and brought extraordinary gifts to that civilization and to our civilization even this very day.  Back then, he was a good-natured soul with special powers. He was respected by all. When he materialized and was glimpsed by the Lemurians on those rare occasions during rejuvenation ceremonies, for the great teachers on the Island, it brought great joy to all who saw him.

There are many that believe time is a circle, but our lives are too short to realize or see this circle of time here on Earth—but alas it is true.  And, so we enter the present of 2018. Now, records upon the earth get lost and even our eternal records that we carry as humanity have been dormant—or asleep—yet they are awakening slowly. That invisible seed inside that looks for things that cannot be explained will amplify and enable even further our vast storage of multidimensional remembrance, and the time we lived and visited on the magical continent of Mu.  And since everyone of us is forever and eternal, those memories reside in perfection and harmony—waiting for the vibration and consciousness to rise and for the gifts they will bring.

In any fairytale, there is always a darkness and evil. And in this tale, we acknowledge humanity  brought it upon ourselves as the planet of free choice—our choice in consciousness, but hark, we have entered into the Grand Awakening. And there are those who are able to turn such alchemy into gold—the precious magnificence within and the Light of the Creator from the Great Central Sun.  As with all hero’s stories, there is struggle and ultimate triumph over such external threats. That is because we are able to find the strength inside ourselves and the greatest power of all—Love. We are battling the dark and the Light is winning.   The great Yawee had many tools at his disposal, and one of the tools was a sacred stone called Cintamani or Dragon Stone. Legend has it that it came to us from the Star System Sirius millions of years ago—bits reaching earth after a Galactic super-wave exploded—sending these gifts and their power to enhance the Light during this time when the gates open.

An old Tibetan prophecy passed down to us through the millennium proclaimed in a very regal declaration that “the king of the world will emerge with his army from his subterranean realms to defeat the forces of darkness and usher the coming of the Golden age.”  And, these stones, as legend has claimed, contain the highest vibration of all stones known; and valued as such. They are powerful and of pure Light and Yawee knew of their energy, and he knew they could not be misused . . . and so the time of darkness came and descended upon the planet.  It lasted for many thousands of years until the time and energy of vibration began to rise, causing the hidden Dragon Stones to be revealed.

Many secrets were held too, and kept safe until the Procession of the Equinox which would first awaken the old souls—the army of Light—everywhere upon the planet. For they too were hidden in their being—their knowledge, power and magnificence concealed within the depths of their Akashic records; and like blossoms on a tree, began to open one by one.  Yawee’s army sang tones of remembrance and the Light became stronger and more active.

And in the great awakening the stones came back to the original keeper—a man still known as Yawee by so many.  He recognized the stones and the energy they contained.  The stones were multidimensional and held much information—and their revelation was a remembrance of joy and celebration, because they had also waited “frozen in time”; they rejoiced at the tones sung too.  And, let the information ring. And, this Wizard knew the battle over darkness would prevail—the time had come; nothing would ever be the same!

And, as they were nudged by the invisible keepers, now was the time when the stones would awaken too, after all it was a test of energy on the Earth.  The Stones would connect to the crystalline grid—and portals of knowing and quantum time capsules put here as gifts of potential from our seed parents 400+ light years away and 200,000 years ago for this very “moment” in time.  They are still here today, protecting us as interdimensional protective Parents in our infancy upon this earth.

Perhaps, you too have heard of the Great Awakening as a Lightworker on the planet—the seeds that were sown centuries ago, but here now, as the way-showers—as the warriors of light—leading humanity into the new consciousness and the new paradigm unfolding before our eyes.  Angelic forces, divine pieces of the creative source and boots on the ground, using their light to disrupt the darkness, who we know prefers to hide and do their destruction through intimation, fear and control.

Yawee, leads us all in the Light Language and tones directly channeled to him through his ancient Pleiadian Mother, and assisted by the Magnetic Master, we are guided as these tones of this ancient language fill the room and filter out to the multiverses and galaxies in a magical multi-dimensional way. And the stones?

They were there to amplify the energy connecting to the crystalline, magnetic and Gaia grids—just like the philosopher’s stone symbolizing the alchemy and humanity’s enlightenment of the Magnum Opus or “Great Work.”  The stone of darkness past—the sword—the magic inside each human and the 24 pairs of chromosomes and our DNA all from the stars—and the sword—peace on Earth unfolding before our eyes.

This is the hero’s journey within us all—the tools given to us right on time—and 26,000 years later they have come back to Yawee to help amplify and strengthen the old souls’ mission as we awaken—strengthened by our inner guidance, here to change outdated belief systems, and once again return to the Garden of Eden and a metaphor for life on Earth.

That’s what happens, when we realize we each have God inside—and yes, we all can be wizards of Light!  This tale will continue to unfold for it is not yet finished—but the magic has only just begun, and this fifth Civilization will one day go on and seed another—just the way it has been for billions of years before—and we will one day look back and mark this as a new beginning—as we each pull the sword from the stone today during this extraordinary and exceptional turing point which began in 2012.

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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!

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

Did You Have Fun?

Many would argue that the rigors of travel, the time change, the long days, and early mornings could be blamed for the cold I am experiencing at the moment. Science might argue that riding on a plane and sitting in a room of over 400 people from around the globe singing the language of lights quantum style could be blamed.  There are germs—after all!

However, I believe that this choir, my fourth, which took place in Chamonix, France last week was a huge vibratory shift and upgrade in my essence; and my biology is now catching up to this “new” higher vibration. (Many choir members are reporting on Facebook their own shifts and instantaneous changes in their lives as well.) Nearly, 5000 miles from home in the French Alps, sitting in the shadow of Mont Blanc approximately 400 of us from over 33 countries sang tones releasing energies contained within time capsules onto the planet through paired nulls and nodes.  These multi-dimensional time capsules are also held in our DNA, Gaia and within the dolphins and whales. These energies of “information” were placed here thousands of years ago by our seed parents, the Pleiadians, should we make the leap shifting into this new energy paradigm and the ultimate new human consciousness.  Fact or fiction?  You decide.

I was pulled like a tractor beam—-as were so many others who “heard the call”.  Was this my soul’s purpose at this time?  Or one of the reasons I choose to be here during this tumultuous recalibration of Earth’s history and progress as a human race reaching for a new state of consciousness? If we are eternal and forever with no beginning and no end, was this potential set by divine appointment, to assist humanity, way before we have verifiable understanding of the truth, depth and certainty carried within the quantum light language we sang?  Apparently, the Universe and Galaxy know and this knowledge is instantaneous and there is great celebration and admiration for what we are doing “down here” for “out there!” Presently, we are in a struggle between light and dark—and the chaos we see on the news certainly confirms this endeavor.  I know and can report that the light is winning!

We must get out of our boxes to see this in an astute way and realize that there are so many things that we don’t know and can’t explain.  Spontaneous remission can’t be explained by our men of science.  Germs, were invisible (until they weren’t) and were unbelievable to many upon their “discovery”.  In our limited perception, there are many things which logic, analysis and intellect cannot rationalize away. This is one of them. Esoterics are like that.  But, it doesn’t make them not true; mainstream belief is just not there yet.

So, as we sang beautiful pairs of tone combinations and tender enlightening Lemurian Lullabies to awaken our inner light (as well as the Lemurian child), the intention of the time capsules were set to respond to “compassionate action”.  We have changed our planet forever.  The melodious sounds and harmonics created within our group were pure magic—and the purpose even more cosmic. These specific tones released energy, held within the time capsules that the “Pleiadians knew we would need . . . right about now.”

Just before leaving, Dr. Todd asked me, “Did you have fun?”  Maybe I should say, it was out of this world!  Not only did I meet many wonderful souls from around the world—I feel we were an emissary of true light and love for the new potential of what is ahead for our planet. I salute Dr. Todd, Lee Carroll and Kryon—the choir directors, the united loving world of other old souls from around the world who sang with me—our ancestors and our seed parents—and my new calibration!  I wouldn’t have missed it for—the world!  As John Lennon sang in 1988 . . .

You may say I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one

I hope someday you’ll join us

And the world will be as one . . .

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“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

Author of Riding the Light Beam; How Every Woman Can Find the Hero Inside”

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

The Great Power of Change

Have you ever felt like you have just landed in a Twilight Zone episode? Or perhaps have just disembarked in a land you hardly recognize, although things feel slightly familiar? That Déjà vu feeling that bleeds thorough your reality to the NOW? It was only a distance of 100+ miles, but on the other side of Alligator Alley I felt I had just landed in the middle of a Hollywood movie set on a recent trip to Naples, Florida.

A friend had arranged a meeting with an engaging, winsome woman who I had met through her podcast radio show several years before, and I jumped at the opportunity to connect once again. She was also a spiritual seeker and I wanted to share my newly published book with her; she excited to meet us as well.

The three of us enjoyed the peaceful and delicious lunch at a charming downtown eatery in Historic Naples. Outside on the patio the conversation was deep, meaningful and relevant to our lives as we shared stories about the twists and turns life offers up. After several hours, we parted and taking advantage of our Saturday adventure decided to walk around enjoying the quaintness and cheerful surroundings. After all it was a “swell” day to walk the old part of town—window shopping and people watching before grabbing dinner and heading home.

Strolling down the sidewalk, snapping a few pictures and watching visitors like ourselves, I felt out of place. It was bigger than that however. I turned to my friend Lynn and commented, that I felt I was living in the middle of the Illusion—that all of this had been constructed for our learning and earth school—in fact each of us playing our parts—all with academy award performances, in fact, as specialists that we are. And beginning to answer the big cosmic question, who are we? Humans here in physical form to affect the WHOLE, extending far out into the Universes and Galaxies beyond our wildest imagination in the name of love. What boundaries do we hold? Or it is only our own limits and perceptions that restrict us?

My concepts of reality had been shifting for some time, but today it was kinesthetic and palatable Was there a rift in dimensions occurring and was that the sense I felt? After all, this affluent, conservative Christian appearing group was so outside the world I recognized by its diversity, color and bi-lingual culture of Broward and Miami-Dade counties. Is this where our realities formed within the bubble we lived? Was this the place where inclusion and exclusion collided? Or where hate and love became judgment and bargaining chips of delusion and fears?

The 1998 movie Pleasantville serves as a great example. Suddenly, Toby McGuire and Reese Witherspoon are cast into a Black and White television series in the fictitious town of Pleasantville. The characters in Pleasantville cannot see color—they don’t know books, or apples or sex or rain. Life is a façade in this place far from reality, as we can imagine. Their world is limited to what they know, which is safe. “What lies outside Pleasantville?”, they ask. The question is a profound one. Is it one that we must ask ourselves as well? And, how many of us still live in the 1950’s world of colorless black and white? Where is our Universe, and does it need to be messed with? What begins to happen when we truly begin to connect with others—all others? Is it only then, that we too can step out of our bubble of illusion and live in the multidimensional world of color which can be a metaphor for Love, Peace, Compassion and our hearts. For as Ervin Laszlo states so eloquently “I am part of the world. The world is not outside of me, and I am not outside of the world. The world is in me, and I am in the world.” Gee whiz, the great power of change.

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