It was 1968 and I was home from college on spring break, speaking with my Dad in the living room. I with my jeans and long hair and newly-pierced ears, I was going to help stop the war in Viet Nam. My blue-eyed, black-haired theoretical physicist father spoke of the nature of humanity as he knew it, insisting that war among humans is inevitable. Bursting into tears, I left the room saying, "I believe peace is possible!"
A few years before that I had happened on a copy of John Hersey's HIROSHIMA. Reading through it I was horrified and deeply disillusioned, seeing that my Dad and his fellow scientists - all atomic pioneers I'd been brought up to revere - had participated in the horrendous pain and slaughter of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I never brought it up with him. The knowledge was buried deep, like atomic waste in some cement tomb far beneath the surface of the earth.
I think of my Dad now, white-haired, in his wheelchair. Last time I visited him when he was still at home, I helped him clean up after sudden diahrrea, helped him with his diapering, helped him get from wheelchair-to-car. I cooked him things he liked, especially greens with a little vinegar. We spoke of Tom Sawyer visiting his own funeral, and, laughing still - relaxed - we spoke of Dad's wishes for his own remains whenever that time should come.
Now Dad is in a nursing home. The nursing home music volunteer leaves her electronic keyboard in his room. Before I left to go home several states away, Dad played some slow Wagnerian chord progressions for me - the same ones I remember him bumbling through when I was very small. They hadn't improved a bit, but they were none the worse for wear. I'm more impressed with my Dad than ever. Sometimes when there's a little down-time at the library I google up his name. There's an article he wrote, "Memories of Feynman,"* which I read now and then, to recapture the excitement of growing up in a town and a household full of scientific curiosity about the wonders of existence.
I remember Dad as I knew and adored him when I was very young: the Dad who came home late from the Lab and played Beethoven - my Moonlight Sonata lullabye; the Dad who taught us four children the names of the stars and constellations late at night under brilliant skies; the Dad who loved to travel, and took the whole family on vacations to the sea, to the desert, to the mountains....The Dad who once laughed at a thunderstorm, encouraging the four of us tiny ones to dance naked in the pouring rain. The one who, with our Mom, brought us up in Los Alamos and Oak Ridge, in Berkeley and Brookhaven; the one who talked about Oppenheimer and Feynman, and who scribbled theories in peacock blue ink when he worked at home on Saturdays.
I'm outlasting his belief in the inevitability of warmongering among humans, I think - or rather, perhaps I'm coming to some understanding of the spiritual physics of peaceful warriorhood. The alchemy of human consciousness. He doesn't see angels or talk with trees, and I do. I don't grok quantummechanics and he does. Never the twain shall meet - except, and only, in the heart. He's my Dad whom I've always adored.
*Physics Today, Feb. 2007, p.46: "Memories of Feynman" by T.A. Welton can be found online as a PDF file.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Library Lou Lou - The Hoozits, Summer 2008
The village of Yellow Springs, Ohio, has always had an amazing arts scene. Currently there is a great upwelling of the visual and performing arts here, with a summer long weekend festival scene for villagers and our many visitors. Village arts folks are busy and happy, with so many opportunities to share.
My own contribution is in the realm of puppetry - actually, a mix of storytelling and toy theater. My little troupe (one human and several toys) is called "Carolion And The HOOZITS,"* and we just performed a new show this Saturday past. True to the spirit of playing with toys, my shows usually come to me at the last minute, as this one did. I went to bed Friday night with the thought that I'd wake up with a great show idea on Saturday morning. Great ideas, of course, are one thing; a coherent, entertaining show is another.
Between waking up and set-up time (3:15 for the 4 p.m. performance) I develop the story line, paint eyes, nose, and mouth on a new character (a standing metal spinning top, named "Spinner"); cut out a cardboard "book" and cut holes in the covers (eaten by a bookapillar, of course - her name is "Lou Lou") and paint the covers, adding words that have holes eaten out of them, and get the paint dry in the sun; make our sign ("Carolion and the Hoozits in - LIBRARY LOU LOU - featuring Music Al the Xylogator, Spinner the Top, and Lou Lou the Bookapillar") and figure out how I'll hang it; pack "scenery scarves" and a "magic flute" into my Magic Hat; figure out logistics of performance set-up (a small take-apart plastic table with a cloth over it so I can hide things underneath, with a little stool so I can sit behind it when I'm not standing or walking). Then I shower and get dressed (puppeteer's black - all the way to my wrists and my toes - nothing else feels right), pack the car and head downtown.
I park in the grocery store parking lot, carry my puppets and simple set and sign to our performance location - a nice shady ex-restaurant space bounded by a wooden fence and the side of a bookstore and wrought iron picket fence. There is plenty of seating and enough shade. I set the backdrop (an old red bedspread) and hang our sign. Emily, my arts council coordinator hasn't arrived yet, so I decide to approach people with young children to let them know there will be a puppet show at 4 p.m. Emily arrives with more signage, and our audience begins to gather. I wait the requisite 10+ minutes past 4 (we operate on "Yellow Springs time"), and during that time I make small talk with the small people in the audience. One little boy explains to us that you don't have to have a lot of performers - that one person can just change voices and make us believe that there are lots of characters. He knows my style - he and I go back a few library storytimes together. I say, "You're right! Maybe one day you'll be a puppeteer!" He beams.
Show time!
I introduce Music Al the Xylogator first, and we sing his signature song to the accompaniment of the rainbow xylophone which is his spine. Al then tells me he wants to go to the library to find a new book. I say, "But Al! You have 50 zillion books at home!" Al responds, "Yeah, but you've read them to me 50 zillion times!" To which I say, "But you asked me to......" But Al is bored with his books at home, so we begin to walk "to the library," along the edge of the little stage. One little boy in the audience warns Al not to get too close to the edge of the stage, or he might fall off "into the water." Al says that he likes the water - that he even sleeps in a wet bed (the swamp) and loves it that way. We go merrily on our way, and Al decides to stop at his new friend Spinner's house, and take him along with us to the library.
Spinner, of course, is so pumped-up about going to the library that he begins to spin and spin, and I have to tell him to slow down or he might get dizzy and throw up. So on to the library we go, singing a little song about that. Finally at the library we talk about being in the World of Imagination. I say, "Good thing I brought my Magic Hat!" and begin to pull scarves out of it, to put in the hands of little audience volunteers. Yellow for the Sun, green for the Trees, and a flowered scarf for the Flowers. We make up a little story about Sun, Trees, and Flowers, and then our volunteers return to their seats. Music Al and Spinner and I find just exactly the book we want, yay! But when we pull it off the shelf, it has big holes chewed in the front and back covers, and all the pages have been eaten. Suddenly Lou Lou appears and confesses to having eaten all this, because she's a bookapillar and she's planning to make a coccoon and become a bookerfly. She's afraid that the librarians will discover her and put her out of the library.
The solution? I decide to pay for the damaged book, so we can take Lou Lou home with us. That way she can be safe to spin her coccoon. Spinner is delighted, and volunteers to help with the spinning. So - it all works out in the end. For the very, very end we sing a goodbye song, with Al's accompaniment.
After the show, children always want to have a visit with Music Al. He's a popular guy. It's a good way for me to wind down, finish out the performer energy, and get back to my everyday self. After a while of visiting Al and our new hit star, Spinner - and after some photos taken by parents - I tell my friends that Al and Spinner and Lou Lou have to take their naps. I tuck Al into the bottom of the Hoozits' basket, and tuck in Lou Lou and Spinner as well, with the Magic Hat and the Scenery Scarves.....Basket closed, sign and backdrop down, little table taken apart and put in its bag....We're ready to go. Emily has children's arts activities set up, and community volunteers there to help. It's another great arts afternoon in Yellow Springs.
My own contribution is in the realm of puppetry - actually, a mix of storytelling and toy theater. My little troupe (one human and several toys) is called "Carolion And The HOOZITS,"* and we just performed a new show this Saturday past. True to the spirit of playing with toys, my shows usually come to me at the last minute, as this one did. I went to bed Friday night with the thought that I'd wake up with a great show idea on Saturday morning. Great ideas, of course, are one thing; a coherent, entertaining show is another.
Between waking up and set-up time (3:15 for the 4 p.m. performance) I develop the story line, paint eyes, nose, and mouth on a new character (a standing metal spinning top, named "Spinner"); cut out a cardboard "book" and cut holes in the covers (eaten by a bookapillar, of course - her name is "Lou Lou") and paint the covers, adding words that have holes eaten out of them, and get the paint dry in the sun; make our sign ("Carolion and the Hoozits in - LIBRARY LOU LOU - featuring Music Al the Xylogator, Spinner the Top, and Lou Lou the Bookapillar") and figure out how I'll hang it; pack "scenery scarves" and a "magic flute" into my Magic Hat; figure out logistics of performance set-up (a small take-apart plastic table with a cloth over it so I can hide things underneath, with a little stool so I can sit behind it when I'm not standing or walking). Then I shower and get dressed (puppeteer's black - all the way to my wrists and my toes - nothing else feels right), pack the car and head downtown.
I park in the grocery store parking lot, carry my puppets and simple set and sign to our performance location - a nice shady ex-restaurant space bounded by a wooden fence and the side of a bookstore and wrought iron picket fence. There is plenty of seating and enough shade. I set the backdrop (an old red bedspread) and hang our sign. Emily, my arts council coordinator hasn't arrived yet, so I decide to approach people with young children to let them know there will be a puppet show at 4 p.m. Emily arrives with more signage, and our audience begins to gather. I wait the requisite 10+ minutes past 4 (we operate on "Yellow Springs time"), and during that time I make small talk with the small people in the audience. One little boy explains to us that you don't have to have a lot of performers - that one person can just change voices and make us believe that there are lots of characters. He knows my style - he and I go back a few library storytimes together. I say, "You're right! Maybe one day you'll be a puppeteer!" He beams.
Show time!
I introduce Music Al the Xylogator first, and we sing his signature song to the accompaniment of the rainbow xylophone which is his spine. Al then tells me he wants to go to the library to find a new book. I say, "But Al! You have 50 zillion books at home!" Al responds, "Yeah, but you've read them to me 50 zillion times!" To which I say, "But you asked me to......" But Al is bored with his books at home, so we begin to walk "to the library," along the edge of the little stage. One little boy in the audience warns Al not to get too close to the edge of the stage, or he might fall off "into the water." Al says that he likes the water - that he even sleeps in a wet bed (the swamp) and loves it that way. We go merrily on our way, and Al decides to stop at his new friend Spinner's house, and take him along with us to the library.
Spinner, of course, is so pumped-up about going to the library that he begins to spin and spin, and I have to tell him to slow down or he might get dizzy and throw up. So on to the library we go, singing a little song about that. Finally at the library we talk about being in the World of Imagination. I say, "Good thing I brought my Magic Hat!" and begin to pull scarves out of it, to put in the hands of little audience volunteers. Yellow for the Sun, green for the Trees, and a flowered scarf for the Flowers. We make up a little story about Sun, Trees, and Flowers, and then our volunteers return to their seats. Music Al and Spinner and I find just exactly the book we want, yay! But when we pull it off the shelf, it has big holes chewed in the front and back covers, and all the pages have been eaten. Suddenly Lou Lou appears and confesses to having eaten all this, because she's a bookapillar and she's planning to make a coccoon and become a bookerfly. She's afraid that the librarians will discover her and put her out of the library.
The solution? I decide to pay for the damaged book, so we can take Lou Lou home with us. That way she can be safe to spin her coccoon. Spinner is delighted, and volunteers to help with the spinning. So - it all works out in the end. For the very, very end we sing a goodbye song, with Al's accompaniment.
After the show, children always want to have a visit with Music Al. He's a popular guy. It's a good way for me to wind down, finish out the performer energy, and get back to my everyday self. After a while of visiting Al and our new hit star, Spinner - and after some photos taken by parents - I tell my friends that Al and Spinner and Lou Lou have to take their naps. I tuck Al into the bottom of the Hoozits' basket, and tuck in Lou Lou and Spinner as well, with the Magic Hat and the Scenery Scarves.....Basket closed, sign and backdrop down, little table taken apart and put in its bag....We're ready to go. Emily has children's arts activities set up, and community volunteers there to help. It's another great arts afternoon in Yellow Springs.
A Most Unusual Computer
A few years back I was living in the Hill Country of E. Central Texas. I'd been on the road for a number of years, just following God - so I had with me just what would fit in my car. My journals and family photos and other things were stored in a friend's garage in Salem, Oregon.
One day my inner guidance told me that I could finally get the computer I'd always wanted. Hmm. Up 'til that time, I didn't know I'd wanted a computer. I was also told I'd be visiting Portland on such-and-such a date. I thought, well, that's a good idea - but there's no money for that. Yet.
Soon I received a call from my friend in Salem that her garage had burned down, and they were going to include me in their insurance settlement - and part of that would be money to fly me out there to inspect the damaged items to see what could be salvaged. The dates of the trip were the dates my guidance had given me. So - I went to Portland.
When the insurance money came through, I knew it would go to buy a computer. I contacted Sid and Marilyn Frances who lived in the Rose City area of Portland. I had lived with them before in intentional co-housing community; I had stayed in a little trailer in their back garden. They had a mom-pop printing operation, and had several computers. I asked them to have their computer guy build a p.c. for me, and we made plans for me to come back out to Portland so they could teach me how to use it.
When I arrived, Sid was finishing installing the programs he and Marilyn had chosen for me. Then it was time to go pick out a printer and scanner. Sid and I set out for Best Buy. I knew enough about talking with machines by then that I realized I should telepath to the boxed printers and scanners and ask for volunteers to join my computer setup. I bought a printer and scanner, and we took them home.
Sid worked and worked to try to get the scanner to connect. The printer was fine, but the scanner would not work. Finally Sid asked me to get out my dowsing rods and tune in with the scanner to see what was the matter spiritually. The scanner said to me, "This is a very high-vibrational operation you've got here."
I said, "Yes - we'll be doing channeling and healings - all kinds of Lightwork."
The scanner said, "Well, I was made to do porn."
"My goodness!" I replied. "Would you like me to do some healing work on you? A soul retrieval?"
"No!" said the scanner. "I want to do porn."
I told Sid what was up. We had a good laugh. Sid and Marilyn and I used to have the world's best laughs. This was a great one. The next morning we returned the scanner to Best Buy, though I never told them the whole truth about why we were returning it. Then I went back to the boxed machines and tuned-in with them. I had learned my lesson! This time I telepathed, "This is a very high-vibrational operation. No porn, no fear - only unconditional love and healing. Who would like to join us?" One machine volunteered. I bought it, we took it home, and it hooked up without a problem.
So - ever after that, something amazing happened with that computer setup. We would be standing in the room where it sat. We'd be talking about this or that. Suddenly, on its own, the scanner would start scanning. What it was scanning was apparently nothing - but there was something going on energetically, for sure. The scan completed, then the printer, on its own, would start to print. It would carefully print out a whole page, but when the page emerged, all that was visible was a fine spray of ink - no words or images visible to ordinary eyesight. If, however, I viewed the page energetically, scanning it with my inner vision as I passed the healing energy of my hand over it, I could pick up a message from the universe.
Once, as the printer was about to print in this magical way, I took the paper out of the holder. The printer kept revving and revving, refusing to complete its energy process unless there was actual paper for it to print on. So then I put a piece of paper which was already printed into the holder, and again the printer refused. It must, apparently, have a blank page. It did accept the blank side of the printed page.
One time I heard from the one I call God, that I was to give Sid his Bar Mitzvah. Now, Sid was in his seventies. He had never Bar Mitzvah'd, and he had been born Jewish, but was not religious. So I asked him if he even wanted a Bar Mitzvah. Sid - anything for a good laugh - Sid consented, figuring that the universe had a great punchline in there somewhere. I said to God, "You know, I'm not Jewish in this lifetime, and I'm not a man. How do you expect me to give Sid a Bar Mitzvah?" God told me not to worry - just to put together what I could of a Shabbos dinner, and then I'd be channeling the Bar Mitzvah blessing direct from God to Sid.
We had the dinner, and it all happened as God said it would. OK. That was that.
Next morning Sid and I were standing near my computer talking about this and that, when the scanner started to scan and the printer started to print. We knew something was up. I went over as the paper emerged from the printer, and scanned it with my hand, and it read "MAZELTOV!"
Oh, that God. Anything for a laugh. By the way, for anyone interested in the concept of the "Big Bang," it's worthwhile to consider that the universe prefers it to be called "The Big Guffaw."
One day my inner guidance told me that I could finally get the computer I'd always wanted. Hmm. Up 'til that time, I didn't know I'd wanted a computer. I was also told I'd be visiting Portland on such-and-such a date. I thought, well, that's a good idea - but there's no money for that. Yet.
Soon I received a call from my friend in Salem that her garage had burned down, and they were going to include me in their insurance settlement - and part of that would be money to fly me out there to inspect the damaged items to see what could be salvaged. The dates of the trip were the dates my guidance had given me. So - I went to Portland.
When the insurance money came through, I knew it would go to buy a computer. I contacted Sid and Marilyn Frances who lived in the Rose City area of Portland. I had lived with them before in intentional co-housing community; I had stayed in a little trailer in their back garden. They had a mom-pop printing operation, and had several computers. I asked them to have their computer guy build a p.c. for me, and we made plans for me to come back out to Portland so they could teach me how to use it.
When I arrived, Sid was finishing installing the programs he and Marilyn had chosen for me. Then it was time to go pick out a printer and scanner. Sid and I set out for Best Buy. I knew enough about talking with machines by then that I realized I should telepath to the boxed printers and scanners and ask for volunteers to join my computer setup. I bought a printer and scanner, and we took them home.
Sid worked and worked to try to get the scanner to connect. The printer was fine, but the scanner would not work. Finally Sid asked me to get out my dowsing rods and tune in with the scanner to see what was the matter spiritually. The scanner said to me, "This is a very high-vibrational operation you've got here."
I said, "Yes - we'll be doing channeling and healings - all kinds of Lightwork."
The scanner said, "Well, I was made to do porn."
"My goodness!" I replied. "Would you like me to do some healing work on you? A soul retrieval?"
"No!" said the scanner. "I want to do porn."
I told Sid what was up. We had a good laugh. Sid and Marilyn and I used to have the world's best laughs. This was a great one. The next morning we returned the scanner to Best Buy, though I never told them the whole truth about why we were returning it. Then I went back to the boxed machines and tuned-in with them. I had learned my lesson! This time I telepathed, "This is a very high-vibrational operation. No porn, no fear - only unconditional love and healing. Who would like to join us?" One machine volunteered. I bought it, we took it home, and it hooked up without a problem.
So - ever after that, something amazing happened with that computer setup. We would be standing in the room where it sat. We'd be talking about this or that. Suddenly, on its own, the scanner would start scanning. What it was scanning was apparently nothing - but there was something going on energetically, for sure. The scan completed, then the printer, on its own, would start to print. It would carefully print out a whole page, but when the page emerged, all that was visible was a fine spray of ink - no words or images visible to ordinary eyesight. If, however, I viewed the page energetically, scanning it with my inner vision as I passed the healing energy of my hand over it, I could pick up a message from the universe.
Once, as the printer was about to print in this magical way, I took the paper out of the holder. The printer kept revving and revving, refusing to complete its energy process unless there was actual paper for it to print on. So then I put a piece of paper which was already printed into the holder, and again the printer refused. It must, apparently, have a blank page. It did accept the blank side of the printed page.
One time I heard from the one I call God, that I was to give Sid his Bar Mitzvah. Now, Sid was in his seventies. He had never Bar Mitzvah'd, and he had been born Jewish, but was not religious. So I asked him if he even wanted a Bar Mitzvah. Sid - anything for a good laugh - Sid consented, figuring that the universe had a great punchline in there somewhere. I said to God, "You know, I'm not Jewish in this lifetime, and I'm not a man. How do you expect me to give Sid a Bar Mitzvah?" God told me not to worry - just to put together what I could of a Shabbos dinner, and then I'd be channeling the Bar Mitzvah blessing direct from God to Sid.
We had the dinner, and it all happened as God said it would. OK. That was that.
Next morning Sid and I were standing near my computer talking about this and that, when the scanner started to scan and the printer started to print. We knew something was up. I went over as the paper emerged from the printer, and scanned it with my hand, and it read "MAZELTOV!"
Oh, that God. Anything for a laugh. By the way, for anyone interested in the concept of the "Big Bang," it's worthwhile to consider that the universe prefers it to be called "The Big Guffaw."
Sassy, The Buddha Shihtziuh
I remember a couple of shih'ztiuhs in Texas. One of them was already very advanced, and came to me regularly for his next level of empowerment. One day his scruffy little girlfriend decided SHE wanted to try that energy work stuff, and asked me for an attunement, which I gave her. She changed so dramatically, and felt so profoundly good about her spiritual work, that she began bugging me to do the same kind of work for her friend Merlin, a cat. I kept telling her that Merlin would have to ask me himself. Finally one evening, Merlin came to me and asked for an attunement. The whole time I worked over him, his little shihtziuh friend "held space" for him energetically - she stood by, watching everything, focusing all the power of her intention on the procedure, for her friend's benefit.
I left the area not too long after that, and returned the next year. When I walked into the house, my human friends who lived there told me that the little female shihtziuh was out on the porch, and I should come see her - she was "different."
There she was, sitting erect, very dignified and serene, on one of the padded deck chairs - she was gazing out over the Blanco River. I tuned-in with her and she said, "I am going to become a Buddha in this lifetime." She gave me a picture-communication of herself teaching groups of human meditators as they sat in a circle around her - she would be monitoring their meditation by tuning-in with their picture-minds, and she would be giving teachings telepathically.
I left the area not too long after that, and returned the next year. When I walked into the house, my human friends who lived there told me that the little female shihtziuh was out on the porch, and I should come see her - she was "different."
There she was, sitting erect, very dignified and serene, on one of the padded deck chairs - she was gazing out over the Blanco River. I tuned-in with her and she said, "I am going to become a Buddha in this lifetime." She gave me a picture-communication of herself teaching groups of human meditators as they sat in a circle around her - she would be monitoring their meditation by tuning-in with their picture-minds, and she would be giving teachings telepathically.
Jake And Gus
For a number of years I have had a spiritual healing and animal-communication practice which has given me many surprises, as well as great soul satisfaction. Here are stories of two of the many wonderful beings with whom I've had the privilege of communing.
Once when I was doing a communication clinic in a stable, most of the horses who spoke through me were giving advice to their riders about balance and technique, and practicing riding in meditation. A couple of the horses also had emotional difficulties resulting from Mother-loss, having been forcibly weaned, and separated from their dams too young. For them I did a healing procedure known as soul retrieval.
A brown-and-white pinto named Jake said something different from all the others. "I have a dream," were the words Jake sent to my mind. When I spoke these words aloud, the listening humans looked intrigued.Then Jake said, "I'd like for us all to go on a campout together." I spoke it aloud for him, but, since no other horse I'd ever spoken with had said anything like that, I wondered if I'd heardwrong. Jake was apparently satisfied,so I had to believe I had done his thoughts justice. A week later I received a phone call from Jake's human. She told me that the horse-owners had all been so inspired by Jake's dream that they'd found a place to camp out, and planned to trailer all the horses in the barn over there. Did I want to come, she wondered?
I did go out for the afternoon and early evening. They had found a beautiful place for the event: a lovely hilly pasture with many gorgeous old trees and a clear stream running through it; there was a resident herd of cows, and the horses were out of their trailers and all running free. I got to ride Jake bareback with a group of others doing likewise. It was easy to stay on, even bareback, because Jake was sweaty from galloping and dirty from rolling to scratch his back. The ride was magical.The whole event was - well, it was a horse's dream. And it was all because of Jake's vision. When I left the group in the evening, though, I was a little worried. The horses were free all night long, and of course, so were those cows. I wondered if I'd see headlines the next day: "Campers trampled in their tents by galloping herds." The next day, however, I got a phone call from Jake's human telling me how much fun they'd had, and that everyone had gotten home safely, and thanking me again for speaking Jake's dream aloud.
Not all animals are brilliant or visionaries or masters of other sorts. Just as with humankind, there are plenty of animals who are busy being just plain folks. This next story, about a yellow labrador named Gus, is a good illustration:
I once was being interviewed on a tiny pirate radio station broadcasting from someone's garage at midnight in San Marcos, Texas. The show hosts had asked me to communicate telepathically with the San Marcos River. They wanted to know the River's way of perceiving the issues in the local water controversy: how did the River feel about the University's use of water, how was it affecting the springs and the acquifer. When the show host found out I could communicate with dogs, however, he hopped into his pickup and went home to get his yellow lab, Gus.
Animals always know when there's a human who can communicate with them. If they have something to say, they come right up to me. If they want a healing, they make that known. So I wasn't surprised that, when Gus came into the studio he walked over to me and looked me in the eye and spoketelepathically, saying, "I can't do this."
"Do what?" I asked him.
"Talk into a microphone like a human being," said Gus.
When I told the owner what Gus had said, he explained, "Oh - that's because we tried to make him bark into the microphone before."
So I told Gus - out loud , but also using my picture mind - "Gus, you can see and hear that I understand what you tell me. So think about it for a while, and if you decide you have something you'd like to say on the air, then just give me your message and I'll speak it into the microphone for you."
Gus wagged and nodded to me, then went out and did his thing for a while. Finally he returned, and came straight over to me. He said, "I've got it. There's something I want to say." So I signaled the show host and we prepared the listening audience for Gus's revelation, whatever it was to be.
Gus said, "I've got a girlfriend."
"That's it?" I asked - "That's what you want to say? "
Gus looked straight into my eyes: affirmative. That was it. I loved it! I said it over the air for my friend Gus, who nodded at me and wagged, and went off to do more of his thing. Gus's human got a big kick out of that. He said Gus's girlfriend must be the dog down the street, whose owners were apparently giving Gus a generous second breakfast every day. I had to laugh, thinking of all of Guses in this world, dog and human.
Once when I was doing a communication clinic in a stable, most of the horses who spoke through me were giving advice to their riders about balance and technique, and practicing riding in meditation. A couple of the horses also had emotional difficulties resulting from Mother-loss, having been forcibly weaned, and separated from their dams too young. For them I did a healing procedure known as soul retrieval.
A brown-and-white pinto named Jake said something different from all the others. "I have a dream," were the words Jake sent to my mind. When I spoke these words aloud, the listening humans looked intrigued.Then Jake said, "I'd like for us all to go on a campout together." I spoke it aloud for him, but, since no other horse I'd ever spoken with had said anything like that, I wondered if I'd heardwrong. Jake was apparently satisfied,so I had to believe I had done his thoughts justice. A week later I received a phone call from Jake's human. She told me that the horse-owners had all been so inspired by Jake's dream that they'd found a place to camp out, and planned to trailer all the horses in the barn over there. Did I want to come, she wondered?
I did go out for the afternoon and early evening. They had found a beautiful place for the event: a lovely hilly pasture with many gorgeous old trees and a clear stream running through it; there was a resident herd of cows, and the horses were out of their trailers and all running free. I got to ride Jake bareback with a group of others doing likewise. It was easy to stay on, even bareback, because Jake was sweaty from galloping and dirty from rolling to scratch his back. The ride was magical.The whole event was - well, it was a horse's dream. And it was all because of Jake's vision. When I left the group in the evening, though, I was a little worried. The horses were free all night long, and of course, so were those cows. I wondered if I'd see headlines the next day: "Campers trampled in their tents by galloping herds." The next day, however, I got a phone call from Jake's human telling me how much fun they'd had, and that everyone had gotten home safely, and thanking me again for speaking Jake's dream aloud.
Not all animals are brilliant or visionaries or masters of other sorts. Just as with humankind, there are plenty of animals who are busy being just plain folks. This next story, about a yellow labrador named Gus, is a good illustration:
I once was being interviewed on a tiny pirate radio station broadcasting from someone's garage at midnight in San Marcos, Texas. The show hosts had asked me to communicate telepathically with the San Marcos River. They wanted to know the River's way of perceiving the issues in the local water controversy: how did the River feel about the University's use of water, how was it affecting the springs and the acquifer. When the show host found out I could communicate with dogs, however, he hopped into his pickup and went home to get his yellow lab, Gus.
Animals always know when there's a human who can communicate with them. If they have something to say, they come right up to me. If they want a healing, they make that known. So I wasn't surprised that, when Gus came into the studio he walked over to me and looked me in the eye and spoketelepathically, saying, "I can't do this."
"Do what?" I asked him.
"Talk into a microphone like a human being," said Gus.
When I told the owner what Gus had said, he explained, "Oh - that's because we tried to make him bark into the microphone before."
So I told Gus - out loud , but also using my picture mind - "Gus, you can see and hear that I understand what you tell me. So think about it for a while, and if you decide you have something you'd like to say on the air, then just give me your message and I'll speak it into the microphone for you."
Gus wagged and nodded to me, then went out and did his thing for a while. Finally he returned, and came straight over to me. He said, "I've got it. There's something I want to say." So I signaled the show host and we prepared the listening audience for Gus's revelation, whatever it was to be.
Gus said, "I've got a girlfriend."
"That's it?" I asked - "That's what you want to say? "
Gus looked straight into my eyes: affirmative. That was it. I loved it! I said it over the air for my friend Gus, who nodded at me and wagged, and went off to do more of his thing. Gus's human got a big kick out of that. He said Gus's girlfriend must be the dog down the street, whose owners were apparently giving Gus a generous second breakfast every day. I had to laugh, thinking of all of Guses in this world, dog and human.
Entering The Wind - 2007
In autumn the year I was ten, playing with leaf-piles in a neighbor's yard, the wind called
and I knelt on the grass and entered the wild windy breath as it entered me,
and I knew mySelf for a moment
and it was over, and never finished yet for eternity.
In winter the year I was, oh, thirty something, walking over the hill crunching through the crusted snow, wind blustering, biting at the outside of me, calling the inside, I felt drawn
to a group of pines, to one pine, which entered my dreaming mind and spoke to me..
This pine invited me to be a tree, to own my pine-ness, to participate in bark and needles and allowing of the wind to move right through my branches, and so
I became this, this pine treeness,
I became it,
and learned once again the way to love the wind.
Who could understand this? This invitation to the Dance?
All I know is Love, when it's True, has this way of inviting you to be it, while it is you.
and I knelt on the grass and entered the wild windy breath as it entered me,
and I knew mySelf for a moment
and it was over, and never finished yet for eternity.
In winter the year I was, oh, thirty something, walking over the hill crunching through the crusted snow, wind blustering, biting at the outside of me, calling the inside, I felt drawn
to a group of pines, to one pine, which entered my dreaming mind and spoke to me..
This pine invited me to be a tree, to own my pine-ness, to participate in bark and needles and allowing of the wind to move right through my branches, and so
I became this, this pine treeness,
I became it,
and learned once again the way to love the wind.
Who could understand this? This invitation to the Dance?
All I know is Love, when it's True, has this way of inviting you to be it, while it is you.
Seth - Still Speaking - 2007
As a universal channel, I've had the great pleasure of channeling a number of angelic beings, deities, and teachers of new thought. I am extremely fond of one in particular, someone familiar to many lightworkers - the entity Seth, inner author of SETH SPEAKS and other works channeled by Jane Roberts.
Seth first entered my field when I was at a get-acquainted party in San Marcos, Texas a number of years ago. Someone, on hearing that I was a channel, asked if I'd ever channeled Seth. "No," I said. The next moment, on feeling a very large energy merging with me, I said, "Who's this? It sure is big."
The folks around me laughed delightedly, and one of them said, "Jane Roberts always did say Seth was big."
Seth worked with me over time to get me to relax and not worry so much about giving over control of a number of my faculties to him. He is a very kind and gracious being, and never took me over without permission, always working through me only to the level of trance which was comfortable for me. There was one memorable day when he merged with me as I was sitting in a rocking chair, and gently played with me, taking me into another trance level, by suggesting I rock and rock, and pay attention to the space between the swings of the chair. Gradually Seth assisted me in deepening my surrender.
After a while I was out of Texas and back to my little co-housing community in Portland, Oregon - Mir Cabaaning. I'd been busy with readjusting to our little group and learning to work with my computer, and had not heard from Seth - nor did I mention him. One day Sid and Marilyn and I had our usual shared lunch break combined with watching reruns of Northern Exposure. After a while I woke up. We never fell asleep at that time - we shared food and jokes and enjoyment of the show----but this time we had all three dozed off in our chairs. I saw that the TV screen was sporting an odd zigzag pattern, and I had the sense that "someone" was with us. At that point Sid and Marilyn came back to awareness and noticed the screen, too. I tuned-in to see who it was, and it was Seth. He politely asked if I would channel him there in Portland, for our little community, on a regular basis.
Sid and Marilyn were delighted. They were tremendously enthusiastic. Both of them had lived in L.A. before, and had heard Jane Roberts channel Seth on the radio in the early days. They had read Seth's books, and loved the personality.
It was in Portland that I began to channel Seth from a much deeper trance, though not one that would allow full movement takeover of my body. The routine went like this: first the group of participants would gather and settle into a circle in the living room. Then I would feel Seth coming into me, and I would honor his presence with a little sip of brandy, which he loves. Then I would become unable to move legs or arms or head at will. My eyes would close and remain closed. Seth would move my neck and head, and occasionally bow my body forward in my chair. I could hear the words he would speak through me before they came from my lips - but I could not "talk back" to Seth or ask him questions - I was too far out of body to be able to do that. On occasion, what he was about to say would just not connect with anything in my mind. If I had been a completely unconscious trance channel, that wouldn't have presented a problem. But since I retained enough consciousness to "overhear" the messages, I had the ability to not speak Seth's words. Very rarely, this would happen. Then Seth would speak through me, saying, "Carolion is unfamiliar with the basis of this concept and would like connecting information," or something like that. Then he would proceed to give the whole group that information.
My experience of Seth is one of trustworthiness, as well as a wonderfully subtle sense of humor - I have often been the butt of his little jokes. Seth loves cats. He had a profound effect on Sid and Marilyn's cat Marble, the orange-and-white philosopher-cat, whom he used to give mind-expanding teachings about spiritual connections between cats, grapes, spiritual initiation, and the cosmos.
It is my great pleasure to quiet my mind, relax my body, and allow Seth to enter this place.
SETH: My greetings to one and all! I come very specifically to give cheer, with an emphasis on the "heer" of that word - indeed, the hearing of it. Let your ears perk up and rejoice, and then add your voice to the general melee of congratulations. What, you may well inquire, are the congratulations for? Indeed - they are for the planet. The planet you so love, this Earth, has given birth to a new species of human. I will speak more to this point, and more on this topic, at a later date. At present, I simply come to give you my heartiest good wishes, and the finest sorts of encouraging enticements I can provide, for those who are ready to enter the new zone of understanding available here.
For those who know me already, expect regular baths of light in the form of new thought. For those just getting acquainted, my sympathies! You may be exposed to my cosmic humor at any time, so prepare yourselves.
As Carolion well knows, in terms of utmost scientific accuracy, I prefer the the terminology "Great Guffaw!" to "Big Bang." The first implies, of course, the creative impulse. The second implies an unfortunate combination of male sexual and military fantasy. In parting, allow me, then, to suggest that we all contemplate the possibilities inherent in the "Great Guffaw" theory, and allow it to influence the interval we spend apart.
My best and most sincere good wishes for all, and a hearty dose of holiday cheer!
Seth
Seth first entered my field when I was at a get-acquainted party in San Marcos, Texas a number of years ago. Someone, on hearing that I was a channel, asked if I'd ever channeled Seth. "No," I said. The next moment, on feeling a very large energy merging with me, I said, "Who's this? It sure is big."
The folks around me laughed delightedly, and one of them said, "Jane Roberts always did say Seth was big."
Seth worked with me over time to get me to relax and not worry so much about giving over control of a number of my faculties to him. He is a very kind and gracious being, and never took me over without permission, always working through me only to the level of trance which was comfortable for me. There was one memorable day when he merged with me as I was sitting in a rocking chair, and gently played with me, taking me into another trance level, by suggesting I rock and rock, and pay attention to the space between the swings of the chair. Gradually Seth assisted me in deepening my surrender.
After a while I was out of Texas and back to my little co-housing community in Portland, Oregon - Mir Cabaaning. I'd been busy with readjusting to our little group and learning to work with my computer, and had not heard from Seth - nor did I mention him. One day Sid and Marilyn and I had our usual shared lunch break combined with watching reruns of Northern Exposure. After a while I woke up. We never fell asleep at that time - we shared food and jokes and enjoyment of the show----but this time we had all three dozed off in our chairs. I saw that the TV screen was sporting an odd zigzag pattern, and I had the sense that "someone" was with us. At that point Sid and Marilyn came back to awareness and noticed the screen, too. I tuned-in to see who it was, and it was Seth. He politely asked if I would channel him there in Portland, for our little community, on a regular basis.
Sid and Marilyn were delighted. They were tremendously enthusiastic. Both of them had lived in L.A. before, and had heard Jane Roberts channel Seth on the radio in the early days. They had read Seth's books, and loved the personality.
It was in Portland that I began to channel Seth from a much deeper trance, though not one that would allow full movement takeover of my body. The routine went like this: first the group of participants would gather and settle into a circle in the living room. Then I would feel Seth coming into me, and I would honor his presence with a little sip of brandy, which he loves. Then I would become unable to move legs or arms or head at will. My eyes would close and remain closed. Seth would move my neck and head, and occasionally bow my body forward in my chair. I could hear the words he would speak through me before they came from my lips - but I could not "talk back" to Seth or ask him questions - I was too far out of body to be able to do that. On occasion, what he was about to say would just not connect with anything in my mind. If I had been a completely unconscious trance channel, that wouldn't have presented a problem. But since I retained enough consciousness to "overhear" the messages, I had the ability to not speak Seth's words. Very rarely, this would happen. Then Seth would speak through me, saying, "Carolion is unfamiliar with the basis of this concept and would like connecting information," or something like that. Then he would proceed to give the whole group that information.
My experience of Seth is one of trustworthiness, as well as a wonderfully subtle sense of humor - I have often been the butt of his little jokes. Seth loves cats. He had a profound effect on Sid and Marilyn's cat Marble, the orange-and-white philosopher-cat, whom he used to give mind-expanding teachings about spiritual connections between cats, grapes, spiritual initiation, and the cosmos.
It is my great pleasure to quiet my mind, relax my body, and allow Seth to enter this place.
SETH: My greetings to one and all! I come very specifically to give cheer, with an emphasis on the "heer" of that word - indeed, the hearing of it. Let your ears perk up and rejoice, and then add your voice to the general melee of congratulations. What, you may well inquire, are the congratulations for? Indeed - they are for the planet. The planet you so love, this Earth, has given birth to a new species of human. I will speak more to this point, and more on this topic, at a later date. At present, I simply come to give you my heartiest good wishes, and the finest sorts of encouraging enticements I can provide, for those who are ready to enter the new zone of understanding available here.
For those who know me already, expect regular baths of light in the form of new thought. For those just getting acquainted, my sympathies! You may be exposed to my cosmic humor at any time, so prepare yourselves.
As Carolion well knows, in terms of utmost scientific accuracy, I prefer the the terminology "Great Guffaw!" to "Big Bang." The first implies, of course, the creative impulse. The second implies an unfortunate combination of male sexual and military fantasy. In parting, allow me, then, to suggest that we all contemplate the possibilities inherent in the "Great Guffaw" theory, and allow it to influence the interval we spend apart.
My best and most sincere good wishes for all, and a hearty dose of holiday cheer!
Seth
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About Me
- carolion
- Mother, grandma, gardener, all beings communicator, multi-religous/spiritual inner child folk minister, writer-singer-painter-puppeteer, dynamic peaceworker
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