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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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!

Earth Angel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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About Cathy Silver

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

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

www.Cathrinesilver.com (Website)

www.cathysilver.me (Blog)

cathysilverhealth@gmail.com (email)

Cathy Silver Holistic Healing (Facebook)

Do Storms Such as Hurricanes and Tornados have Divine Intelligence? (And, Can We Affect Them?)

A Tornado touched down in the small east Texas town of Nacogdoches. Without warning, it plummeted through one of the grandest old neighborhood streets, snapping multiple old-mature trees like toothpicks.  It made its way toward Burrows Street, lifting and tossing several of my large terra-cotta clay pots and their contents onto the backyard lawn, (amazingly, not even broken?). Next it jumped over the apartment building next to our rental house, leaving both unharmed and tore the roof off a house next door to the apartments north-side; then it seemed to evaporate and disappear. That was 1996.  I never gave it another thought until I was cleaning up after Hurricane Irma a few days ago.

Florida, September 2017: My old white board fence needed a few more repairs.  I knew there were a few weak spots but discovered a few more after Irma. Oops. Several unnamed bushes on the east side had grown like weeds. I did not plant them but tried to respect their presence. I considered Mother nature an ally.  They had been planted by an “unstable” housemate a few years ago.  No one could identify them, but I shrugged my shoulders and tended to them as best I could.  All three of them, in different locations along the fence, were torn up by the storm and are now waiting pick up on the street.

“Was this an overdue cleansing 

or reboot of the energy 

that surrounded us?”

I raked leaves, picked up small branches and carried armfuls that had been strewn about to my growing pile of branches.  What a mess I mused. Not only the poor ravaged wind-burned vegetation that survived this battering, as I looked around, but the interruption with everything in our lives; a mandatory break from normalcy called by the Universe.  I was thankful and had much gratitude for the minor repairs as I hauled more broken limbs “to the curb.”

Later that afternoon, with the hot sun beating down, I retrieved the pool net from its home in the back yard and began the task of removing the leaves that had found their way to the bottom of my pool. While methodically scooping out the leaves from the water, the oddest thought struck me . . . and I realized in that moment, that my three beach balls were still in the pool. Really, they could have easily ended up in Miami or Palm Beach, thirty miles or more in either direction, with Irma’s winds that had swept so brutally across the state and beyond.  I looked across the pool and my 3 hanging crystals and wind chimes were also still fine. I looked up and the small line of lights around and across the pool were untouched! I wondered:

“Do storms have consciousness 

or divine intelligence that has escaped 

our awareness thus far?”

Even though most will remember that, a few years ago, it was predicated by most major scientists and geological experts that it was only a matter of time before California would fall into the ocean from the San Andreas fault that ran pretty much the length of the state.  It hasn’t.  And, we don’t hear very much about that these days.  Did consciousness shift that as well?

We are connected and are dependent on our earth for survival.  Maybe that’s why we call her “Mother?” The air we breathe.  The water we drink.  The food we grow.  The energy we receive and feel from our connection while outdoors.  Those, of course, are tangible things we see and can easily acknowledge.  But what if our ongoing shift and change has deeper threads than we have not yet fully acknowledged? Has our shift in consciousness connected us, in part, to our changing reality, road to higher compassion for one another and is somehow tied to this cycle and our severe weather? Are we one with Gaia? And what we do to her, we do to ourselves?  I understand that we are not separate from this spinning mass we call earth, but are inextricably connected.  We must begin to wake up to this connection.

In a crisis, everything is thrown for a loop, and in this case, one’s true nature is on exhibit for all to see.  Take the example of Joel Osteen and Mattress Matt.  Where did the compassionate action surface?  We witness the external and note the internal shifts within ourselves.  Phyllis, an astrologer simply says it this way, “Whew. Hurricanes, fires, earthquakes, and BIG personal shifts: ALL are Effects of the Eclipses!”  More invisible threads which show up in our external worlds created by the quiet storm and changing reality within ourselves. Are you the same today as you were last year?  Five years ago?

Author Pamela Eakins writes, “wind is the realm of conscious self-awareness. Throughout the world of wind, swirling wings of illumination continually arise from the subconscious mind.  That which is contained in the matrix of our being begins to make itself known. Thought comes alive and becomes focused as potential begins to realize itself on the mental plane. . . . We increase our emotional energy through affirming our openness of Love. . .  The veil of darkness is pierced by sudden comprehension.”

I highly suspect this is more reality than metaphor; however, it needs to be cognized. As long as we can be open to the seemly impossible and magic of our world, all things are possible. An open mind is one that can receive new insights and discard old beliefs which no longer serve us or humanity. We must ask ourselves, not why?  But, Why not? After all, I believe, we are the powerful co-creators of our world and Universes.   It is our light—not our fear that must guide us.  I believe we can help to change many things—including the path of strong winds.  We must embrace the wind as divine intelligence within us, cleansing and clearing and being in the question—because it is a part of who we are.  When we do— limitless possibility of Love awaits—no matter how it looks!

Now, help me to visualize the next alignment for the highest good for all and the most benevolent outcome as we send loving energy to “our Mother.”

“If you believe, 

we are pieces of the divine creator—

we have the power to move and change energy—even hurricanes like Irma!”

Three Beach Balls

“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?

Cassadaga

orb-2Over the years the names Cassadaga and Lily Dale surface from time to time—some who visited the villages’ reported they were wowed by the experience—some, not-so-much.  And, so it was that our Matrix Energetics Healing Group decided to take take a field trip to the famous spiritual camp this past weekend and check it out for ourselves.

All of the fanfare of course is billed upon the unseen energies, spirits, mediums, ghosts, and the existence of life after death; a minuscule community established in 1894 by a man named Colby which is spread over 57 acres of outback land in Central Florida.  I certainly believed in these things—how could I channel—and counsel about spiritual things without such understanding or belief myself?  It was a given. Our lives and our natures were so much bigger than what we saw in the mirror everyday.

I don’t consider myself a “spiritualist”.  For that matter, the first time I was asked if I was a light worker, I just shrugged my shoulders and was confused by the question.  I was unfamiliar with the term a dozen years ago; now I feel the importance of the task. We are way showers and bridges to the future on earth; an expanded vision of who we really are.   I always knew that I didn’t fit well into mainstream not realizing I was an old soul; I heard the beat of my own drum and followed it.  Sure I had wisdom, but I thought everyone should have that “knowing” and knowledge buried deep—wherever those things were contained.  I smiled at how far my journey had led me.

I had come easily to grasp upon these expanded views that quickly surpassed my traditional upbringing; It was an intellectual archaeological dig of our true divine beginnings for me and I was open for something more; the quest was exciting.  There was always something that was limiting, untold or left out; a piece of the puzzle missing within the modern religious orders.  Had we done our best? Perhaps, it was just the churches fear of going to far.  Whatever that meant.  They wouldn’t  want to empower their followers after all; that meant less money in the coffers. Lol. Maybe more of a video game hierarchy  was closer to the truth. Each level gained more points.

Somewhere along the way, we had descended the evolutionary ladder—with our consciousness and DNA only working about a third or less of its true capability. The ancients’ views had been mocked or absent from our culture, a bias of sorts condemned to stray to far outside the keepers of theology, the study of divinity, truth and God.  It seemed to be a private club of power, knowledge and control. In the end, “we” became the conquerors of yesteryear, now  modern-day missionaries condemning the indigenous peoples beliefs as somehow wrong.  Just maybe, they knew something we did not?

Fast-forward back to the 21st century, this was a quest for me. A quest of reading and learning and being open-minded to more.  It was an exhilarating exploration that I yearned for—a truth seeker of sorts; those ideas and philosophies that resonated with my soul, not necessarily the neighbor next door.

The class and then tour began at 7:30 pm in Cassadaga but not without a slide presentation offering proof to those in the room—but what I already knew.  I had years of orbs, unexplained lights, shadows and “paranormal” energies already on my iPhone; they are everywhere.  More normal than we realize.

In spite of how the title and name looked, they were in their box; god was apart, outside and separated from ourselves.  There was nothing especially different except the external effort they put in trying to prove their theories.  I wanted to interject to the audience to use their discernment; it was not my place.  But I ask you now to use your discernment—and seek your truth—not someone else’s ideas passed down through the generations by some male authority figure outfitted colorful silk regalia.

Women have always provided the spiritual component in human relationships—it is one of our strengths and our gift.  Not just in this life time but over the eons humanity has been here working through the darkness to the light; humanities journey among the Universes and galaxies.  Since underneath our human costumes—we are part of God.  It’s time to let our magnificence shine.  After all the human soul is not really human.  Death is simply a transfer of energy.  Our pineal gland is sort of a human wi-fi device picking up information and translated into thoughts and words to guide, nudge and teach us.  I know it is always working.  (How else could I awaken from a deep sleep and ask if Joshua, my oldest son, had made it home from work during a part-time job in high school—only to find out he was not and the pickup truck he was driving would not start. We were there in an instant.How did I know?)  Something bigger and larger kept my family safe.

The biggest point before I close—is this is the planet of free choice—the choice to discover and know the divinity inside. And, no matter what the face of god looks to you,  it is triggered by our pure intent.  We are the one who must open the door; no one can do it for you.  Is it time to open the door and discover the god inside you? And, CLAIM it for your own.  Lighting the torch is easy–all it takes is a “YES”.

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“Each time you see or hear the word

God, think of the person next to you,

the family at work, or at play, and the

true essence of who you are at the core.

Do not think of a singular power higher than

yours somewhere in the sky.  It is you!

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver

Cathrinesilver.com

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