What Is Reality?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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“Time Machine”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Holidays—and Happy Travels!

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

 

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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?

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”

Relationships – More Than Meets the Eye

Life—is bigger than we know. And I know that the same is true with relationships—whether we’re connecting with our dog, our kids, our friends, the ocean or the trees and plants in our garden or the forest outside in nature.  Everything is much bigger than our intellect and ego safely insist and wants to catalog in a neat book or box or pre-set set of rules of how things are or how things can or should be.  Sometimes, they just aren’t.

While walking through the bookstore last weekend, I noticed the racks—and shelves of books and magazines on relationships.  How to start one. How to maintain one. How to fix what’s broken.  Questions that address intimacy, feeling supported, making a contribution in the relationship, flexibility, judgment, jealously, to name a few; this list is almost endless.  I pulled numerous books off the shelves and leafed through the indexes and tables of contents. None of them addressed true soul relationships, except one which noted, Soul mates were seductive and completely silly, the author certainly pooh-poohed the idea that relationships could be made in previous lives.  Really?

So, let me start with the belief or premise that we are eternal and forever and as souls, we come to earth again and again and again; it’s what we do!   In fact, I believe that 2, 3, or 4 lives may be ONE experience for our soul as seen as continuous experience, purpose and growth which we know as lifetimes. For our soul—a traveler between dimensional worlds— some things would just be carried forward. That would include relationships; our likes, dislikes, fears and phobias sure are.

Each time we are here, it is recorded in our Akashic record.  For those unfamiliar, the Akashic Record, is a “dimension of consciousness that contains a vibrational record of every soul and its journey”, writes author Linda Howe.  Every life is recorded and remembered while on Earth and in a modern-day lingo—downloaded here for safe keeping upon death and uploaded upon our return.  The souls that have been here the most and the longest are the old souls who carry the most wisdom.  You can equate this to years in school; the graduate student holds more wisdom than the one in kindergarten; lifetimes are the same sort of way.

But, back to my topic of relationships.  Yes, we have soul relationships with many—but not with all of the people in our lives.  Some people just resonate with you; you feel it, and know it—whether it makes any sense at all.  How many have talked to complete strangers, they just “know”?

In fact, there are many soul relationships and each carries its own distinct “flavor” or “energy”. There is one called cording. In this relationship, one is the “giver” of energy—the other is the “receiver”. Monad relationships are another, for which there are many different types, and are experienced in both directions around a specific issue. A monad is formed for a learning experience, but it is not necessarily a karmic one.  This relationship often feels as if two souls are on a see-saw—the most common being “teacher-student”.  Another soul relationship is one called a task companion.  Usually everyone has at least one task companion; it’s about performing one or many tasks together.  This relationship is very compatible without a lot of arguing or bickering or dealing with intense (karmic) issues. Still another is called essence twins or twin flames.  A twin flame has purpose behind it, driving toward a goal. Real-world examples: Ronald Regan had a soul mate called Nancy. But the discovers of the DNA structure, Watson and Crick, were twin flames, so were Mikhail Gorbachev and his wife Raisa. Often times it is a dicey and challenging relationship, but with great purpose.  Another is major Karma. Karma is an emotionally intense experience which causes a sense of imbalance in the parties. The law of karma is unfinished business—and when you have an emotionally intense experience with someone, you will eventually experience that emotionally intense experience from the perspective of the other participant.  And lastly, that which the media and popular belief have made so famous is the soul mate.  A soul mate is a partner for life. It does not have to be a romantic one. What they don’t say or know, is that your soul mate may be your grandmother, son, daughter or the neighbor next door.

The other thing the books don’t talk about is the fact, that LOVE is a quantum energy.  (So are magnets and gravity.)  And, although we accept these things, we can’t really explain them.  Relationships seems to be like that too. Like the seasons, all relationships change over time—as we grow and change every day.  We don’t all grow at the same pace, nor do relationships.  Within each relationship, we have the potential for compatibility, sympathy and understanding—we also have degrees of tension, antipathy or lack of communication.  All relationships, especially romantic ones bring expansion or growth. Maybe some of the “rules” and “judgments” for ourselves and others must change as well? And while the books are great tools, the real truth, probably is not found on the pages the books, but in the heart—every man and woman’s communion with an external source of hidden knowledge within—which each individual must seek and find for him or herself.

 

“Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

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

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 relationships, spirituality, career, physical activity, nutrition 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.

Cathrine has two grown sons and a two-year old grandson.

Coming Soon: 

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Grief Recovery with a Heart

Inspired, Caring, Supporting

www.soultosoulretreat.com

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