We in the Pacific Northwest are enjoying stellar fall weather! Day after day of blue sky, bright sun, golden leaves drifting down through green sylvan glades, woodsy ridges awash in color, Japanese maples of such brilliant vermillion they seem made out of stained glass or garnets. Through this panorama the full moon flies past the night stars, Flickers call their agreements, deer wander the lawn, and I take it all in as I cultivate the spiritual warrior within, and conjure the new hoop of the next chapter of my storied life, seemingly out of nowhere.
As you know, intrepid reader and fellow soul traveler, I receive a lot of guidance from all sorts of channels. This morning's comes in from 1) the congruence of a book I found in the back of a shelf I haven't seen since I moved here three years ago, 2) a medicine card I pulled without ado from a deck from a drawer, and 3) a quote that tied them both together. As I grok the wisdom and feel the assimilation energetically inside my body, 4) Flicker chimes in–yep, right on cue right here and now–flashes her pink underwings and affirms, as Flicker always does for me, that Spirit is here and knows I'm paying attention. During that entire sentence, Flicker has been voicing from the red cedar she flew to a sentence before. These synchronicities are vital to How Things Happen in my world, and fire my imagination. The photo shows my faux bird nest of stone eggs and feathers I've found here from Flicker and other species.
The card I pulled spoke of the Spiritual Fire within, the Luminosity we carry–scratch that–the Luminosity we, and all things, actually are. We are Light. Everything's frequency, moving light. Mathematicians and Quantum Physicists have cool ways of notating that, and lots of fun words like quantum foam. These gorgeous fall leaves are shifting their frequency and we are onboard for the ride. Wow! What a light show. The card advised letting go of all drama and simply letting the truth of being Light inform my cells, my consciousness, my world. Flicker agreed.
I took the book, Sandra Ingerman's Medicine for the Earth, out to the sunny porch and opened to a random page. The beginning page of the chapter on Imagination. In Sandra's transmutation work, imagination is a key component. Within the chapter is a quote from Caroline Casey, Imagination lays the tracks for the reality train to follow. Ingerman advises letting that one soak in for a bit.
Dreaming your reality into being is using the creativity, the luminosity within you and your sentient connection to the light all around you to imagine, to 'cast forth enchantments' as 20th century mystic Neville put it (and Ingerman mentions). The power of the imagination directs light and frequency–Flicker agrees! Imagination sees the scene so completely it is shimmering in the light. The sounds, the smells, the tastes, the colors, the clothes... actually this is starting to remind me of the theme song to Green Acres a little. For imagination to lay the tracks for the reality train, you gotta get into it. Really dream it up big time, exactly as you want to see it. Do it, live it, be it, for real. Then when you bump into it you recognize it. Oh. Yes. There it is.
It's interesting to note what comes up in resistance to this creative work, this creative playbook, of imagination. All the authority figures who pooh-poohed the power of daydreams, who put down your abilities in the dreaming up department, or dissuaded you from the worth of imagination, the imaginary helpers and magical happenings we love to create from an early age, so naturally. These self-styled reality experts pop up from our wearied neural pathways to wag a finger or roll their eyes, give a withering lecture, certain of knowing better about what's what. That's not how things happen, they say. But you know what? These too are imaginings, reality-shaping ones as any other. If for such a mind, that's not the way things happen, well, for them it is not. Period. The reality train coming in on those tracks will look a bit different. And yes, Flicker is discoursing all through my final edit of this paragraph, in the little bubbly chirpy vocal patterns they do so well. You tell 'em, Flicker. Word.
It could be said that, frequency-wise, now more than at any previous time, we are able to use the power of Imagination, free and clear from old conditioning, to transmute trauma and toxicity within and without, and create something much more pleasant for us all. It does require getting some clarity, feeling our feelings and examining our fears, learning how to feel the luminosity within, open to influxes of light and circulate it through us. It takes a little practice to state our personal choice and empower our decision making abilities, choose love not fear, no matter what. It's only ourselves who can turn off old programs, give the old voices a cookie and a hug, rose-colored glasses, and maybe a security blankie for a lengthy naptime. As I just corrected a proofreading error in that sentence, hours after the initial posting, a quote box on the edit page delivered, from Walt Disney himself, this golden nugget: If you can dream it, you can do it.
Do you have an initial excited response to such a statement, followed by a negating 'well it's nice but it's not really true' type thought, or a 'that may be true for some people, but not for me'' thought? Sometimes it helps me to imagine a delete button, a mute button, or a lovely hamper in which I toss the old conditioning fears that pop up to block the Imagination in full swing. Sometimes I crumple up the curmudgeonly 'scratch pad imagination-stupifying thought' and toss it over my head into the imaginary metal wastebasket of some old classroom. A little movement, some sound effects, are fun sometimes. Whoosh! Zap! Or the vintage sound of the phonograph, or tape, winding down as the plug is pulled. The sudden clarity of a gong. Flicker calls also work, really really well. They cut right through.
My accountant says he tells his negative self-talk, Thank you for your opinion. Now shut up. Whatever your transmutation method, dare to dream, and ditch the downer dialogue with diligence. Enjoy your railroad building. Your reality train's looking beautiful already.
This is the first in a tri-weekly series on the power animals, totems, plant and elemental signals that show up each day as helpers in this middle world existence. A friend to the work suggested these could be of benefit to you, gentle reader, and I'm happy to write them. They happen every day, all around us.
Clouds: and I have to stop.
They are saying what's not found in books.
Those two lines, from a poem I wrote some years back, allude to my full-time job as a cloud augurer. I've been reading clouds forever it seems, and was delighted to discover it was a traditional thing for Celtic seers. The clouds capture my attention easily, put me in an altered state that Carlos Casteneda's Don Juan terms 'heightened awareness'. They really are saying what's not found in books.
For example, just now, sitting on the front porch with the morning coffee, sun streaming over my body, I had 'conversations' with several totems. First, a hummingbird flew right up to me, before either of us were aware. Oh! we both said. Good morning! That told me that there was harmony happening, and nature was opening to me in invitation if I opened to nature. Then, there were bees in front of me, and the clouds went all majestic. So I went into their state and attuned. They spoke of change, and the harmony of change. They spoke of the natural shifting of forms, and how they themselves, stupendous in form as they were at that moment, would soon transform into something completely different.
Then, a hawk cried out and flew in front of the beautiful, tall cloud directly in front of me. Hawks are messengers. The question to ask when one is called to by a hawk is, 'What is the message?" The hawk said, get ready! And flew into the blue.
I went inside to get the iPhone for a snap of the clouds, and the thistle said, 'don't forget me too!' This blessed thistle had insisted it be allowed to live when it sprouted outrageously right by the front steps some months back. Heard that, and so it was. What I didn't know was that its medicine, in flower essence form, is about giving and receiving. Bingo! A core subject I am working with during this same period. Roger that.
Think about it: it's an interesting way of showing giving and receiving, a thistle, right? It is an ancient, revered but also eradicated plant, with definite Scottish affiliation, that serves as medicine and food, with thorns that make it more than prickly to get near. Yet, when the bees and other insects are finished receiving pollen from its bright purple tufts, they dry and simply open from the crown. Then, the softest, lightest, most benign seeds simply float up out of the plant, giving themselves freely and abundantly wherever the slightest breeze takes them. Hmmm. Plenty to meditate on there. And I have been.
So, in the short time it's taken me to write this post, the weather has completely shifted and it is pouring with rain. It began instantaneously, before I'd even noticed that the distinctive cumulus clouds had given way to a solid gray cloudbank. The sun is gone, the temperature has dropped, the downspouts are rainsticks. I'm still tapping away on the porch, smelling the beautiful fragrance of rainfall. Don't know where the hummingbird, hawk, and bees are; perched somewhere out of the downpour I imagine. The thistle is enjoying a drink.
What totems are showing up in your world today? They are saying what's not found in books. Listen. And give back with your acknowledgments, your love and thanks. They are such a part of this beautiful world.