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

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12 Ways of Christmas

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

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  Are we still clinging to old outdated ideas and beliefs that do not serve us?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

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

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

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

1.) Be compassionate to others.

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

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

4.) Give your best.

5.) Live by your values

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

7.) Offer humor to situations.

8.) Come to the party with open-mindedness

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

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

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

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

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Inspired Wellness from Within”

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

Cathrinesilver.com

Bridge of Light or Unearthing the Darkness?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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