Imagine Peace


Grainy photo of Candis, posted with her permission, from last night’s meditation. There’s Sunshine the cat, helping us out.

Jacqueline pointed out to me that today is the anniversary of John’s death.

Maybe that’s why George was so strong about this meditation last night. It came through with this strong urgency. I called out to my meditation buddies, Aaron, Candice and Hernan, literally sending out this psychic broadcast “Meet me at 300” (none of them have cell phones or Internet, but we always manage to find each other.)

There they were, when I set out to find them. All three of them together at the laundromat. It looked like a big coincidence of course, they had no idea why they ended up there at the right time. When I asked, could they come to this meditation tonight, they immediately replied, of course they would.

It was funny, the whole thing had this Meditation Emergency!!!! sense about it.

I basically just read them the entry, and we fell into silence. Oh! And I had made this production of putting this mantra song on repeat – the mantra, Om Sri Rama Jaya Rama Jaya Jaya Rama – it had to be that mantra for some reason. During the meditation, George said that was his first mantra. It was Sweetie’s first mantra too, and it was Ghandi’s first mantra.

It means victory to God, where god is the higher power and also our own higher self. It’s a prayer to reach our highest and purest potential.

During the meditation, the five of us reached out with our hearts, and experienced Heaven “backfilling” the energy, so that we were the conduit, the connection, the wiring by which the love of heaven may reach those in need.

We did this with the intention of founding an energy net that will one day connect every person on earth in love and peace.

Today, Jacqueline reminds me it’s the anniversary of John’s death, and my iPhone played “imagine” all by itself.

I don’t even have any of his music on my phone.

As I listened to the song, I understood a different level of meaning, in the context of all of humanity connected by the love flowing to each other from our hearts, love in unlimited supply, fueled from heaven.

9pm Dec 7 2012, Join us here in spirit


A few friends are coming over to help us tonight. Here is our meditation area, in my house, on my living room floor. Stacks of blankets, pillows. Scattered are all of the feathers I have, gifts from bird friends, including the blue stellar jay feather, the dove, crow, raven, sandpiper, chicken, turkey, duck, and all my eagle friends. These feathers represent our connection to heaven, and all those who love us and help us there.

In the centre will sit this iPhone, symbolizing our connection to each other and every other human in earth.

Join us in love.

George facilitates a massive group meditation

Hey George, would you like to help me with another “how to become psychic entry?”

I’d rather talk about how to become peaceful.

Okay. Is becoming peaceful something we should all focus on, no matter what we’re doing? (I’m asking because I’m wondering if this topic has broader implications and audience than the how to become psychic topic.)

(Shows me a peaceful construction worker, operating a backhoe. He’s in the moment, focused on his task, he’s enjoying it, and the energy is becoming a permanent part of the structure he’s helping to build.)

I just got this huge sneezing fit and a tweak that it’s part of that sensation I had last time I talked to George, the sense of pulling behind my sinus. George laughs, and shows me the traditional Chinese medicine way of thinking of bodily fluids and secretions being linked with the flow of energy through the body, which is true. He also shows me the chronic sinus infections and stuffiness I experienced in the city were connected no only with the pollution, dust and dry climate, but also the massive psychic protection / block I had to construct to protect myself while living in the city. That’s really interesting.

George is reiterating, The key to a peaceful world, is peaceful individuals. He shows me twitter and shows me asking myself, “Does this help me feel peaceful?”

That brings me to a point about twitter, facebook and social media in general; I notice how my twitter feed affects my state of mind. It’s like empathetic channel surfing – in under ten seconds I could be reading ten different things and connecting to them energetically – it could include animals in need, hungry children, a local getting fired and events I want to attend. That’s a lot of different places to put your focus, and I find it can be scattering and subtly stressful.

I use tweetcaster to manage tags, trends and friends who may be posting things that give my system a jolt – you can temporarily “zip” a person, hash tag or trend to filter your twitter feed of unwanted posts. Twitter is a double-edged sword, it helps me keep in better contact with my friends and community, but it exposes me to a lot of the stress of the “outside world”. I try to keep my retweets to things that’ll make my followers smile.

George, would you like to discuss maintaining a peaceful mindset when we are connected to all the strife of the world via technology?

Huh, George shows me meditating with my iphone. This is so funny, because Sunshine, my cat, has been sitting on my iphone and my laptop for hours at time telling us she’s “fixing it”.

How does meditating with the iphone help?

It helps to use this tool, (the iphone) with measured intention. It helps you to be present in your body before you (look at twitter, facebook, blogs) so that your imagination and energy is not caught up in the river of stressful/busy energy (shows me this massive river that is rushing towards a waterfall, getting louder and more powerful, which is a symbol for the millions of people in the world looking at their social media and feeding the river with their thoughts – the river becomes a super-powerful force sucking others in and along – it can be a force of change, or an energy drain – ask yourself which it is, how it makes you feel. Ask “Does this help me feel peaceful?” You are better-able to ask yourself that question before retweeting / joining the river of energy.

So, George, there was a tweet I saw recently that stuck in my brain. It was a photo of a college woman holding a sign that said, “We need feminism because my college orientation included a “how to avoid being raped” seminar, not “Do not rape.”

I didn’t retweet it, but I’m posting about it now, so I have, after some thought, decided to add my energy to this river. It didn’t make me feel peaceful to read it, yet I am not comfortable choosing to ignore things like this, because they have created positive change in the past.

George, how do I reconcile this? You can be peaceful while regarding great sadness in the world. We (people in heaven) work tirelessly to assist in the transformation and shifting of the energy patterns on earth. There are individuals who have guided the earth along her entire journey with the loving hand of a parent. We are all attached to the (sad things) that happen on the planet earth, we all connect our hearts to the hearts of those who suffer. The key to peace is not to sever that heart connection, but to foster it, without allowing it to drain you of your own love. (Shows me opening up a stronger connection to the energy of heaven, and how this helps to foster greater strength for greater heart connections to those who struggle in their lives.)

This is why meditation is so essential; it allows you (all incarnated individuals) to manage the empathetic connection to other people, to grow your capaticty to greater heights of compassion, without sacrificing your own peaceful state. Your “heart can go out” to someone who suffers, and if you have a strong connection with heaven, the compassion you extend to that individual will be fueled from heaven, via you! This is the great potential, the unlimited potential for love in the universe. To love another, to invest in another is not to deplete yourself, it is to connect with them and so with heaven. And so it is to connect with yourself, and come to know your greatest potential.

And with that I actually teared up. Wow. Thank you George for your continued teachings.

George is inviting us to a group meditation, tonight at nine pm? Nine o’clock my time. He says, Sit in solace, light a candle and declare your intention to join our group, connect our hearts. Know that I am overseeing every individual in this activity, and I will protect your heart from harm. Practice reaching out tonight with every person who reads these words. Remember, time is no object, you will join in with all those who read these words in the past, in this very moment, and in what you consider the future. Remember there is no future, as all future comes to pass. In the decades to come, those who read these words will connect to a great, golden circle.

He’s explaining the importance of taking the opportunity to join with us at 9pm tonight, to create this circle, and at the same time he explains that anyone can join this circle at any time, and it will be as thought they have joined us at nine tonight.

He’s giving me this picture of a blooming flower to focus upon during the meditation. Oh yeah, I recognize it, it’s the meditation flower he’s shown to me before, it’s petals move in and out with my breath.

Thank you for helping all of us, thank you George.

Holy shit, “Hey Jude” just came on the radio. Hey Jude, take a sad song, and make it better. Let us under your skin, then you begin to make it better. Let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.

Oh my god, I’m going to cry. This is huge people. Please join us.

Long Island Medium, George and Free Reading!

My landlady Linda has been telling me about this show, Long Island Medium. The medium is a woman named Theresa, with a big personality, two kids, a husband and full time business doing readings. The show basically follows her around her day, and Linda has been watching it a season at a time. She described Theresa as a psychic in long island who has no control over who talks to her when, and she does readings everywhere she goes.

This morning I pulled up an episode on youtube and gave it a watch. Wow, Theresa is incredible, and I really enjoyed the show. One interesting part about Theresa’s approach is this “I can’t help it!” thing she has, she’ll just read for anyone, everywhere. I want to generalize and say, “Most psychics don’t do that,” but how do I know what most psychics do? I just know what I do, and I turn the volume down or off for most of my day. I actually don’t want to be reading people as I go about my day, and when I do medium work, it involves a half hour to an hour of preparation.

Connecting people with their loved ones in heaven is a humbling privilege; it’s something that’s really beyond the identity of the medium. It was fun to see Theresa surprising herself with hits, which happens to me too. You’re going into every reading blind, and it’s miraculous every time a connection is undeniably made.

The neat thing about meditation practice is that you can develop this habit of observing yourself, and I’ve started learning things about myself in this way. One thing I noticed as I was watching the show, was that I was automatically connecting empathetically with Theresa’s clients, which is just a reflexive thing. My heart went out to these people who cried as they connected with the loved ones. I was tearing up. I noticed that Theresa just kept going and was unaffected by their tears… and then I remembered that when I’m doing a reading, I’m just like Theresa – focused on the message.

Something clicked in my mind. When I do readings, I get into “medium mode”. On a reading day I’ll be careful with what I eat, avoiding foods I know bring me down or wind me up. I’ll meditate before I talk to the first person, in order to address my own thought stream, set aside worries and ground my energy – just getting my ducks in a row. Once I make that connection, it’s like a channel opens up inside of me, and there’s this circuit running through my body. The energy from this circuit pushes all of the usual parts of my emotional experience aside, and it becomes all about the message. I’m so focused on what I’m seeing, hearing, feeling as communication, the empathetic/emotional connection to the people around me just isn’t possible.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t care, it just means that my personality, my own experience, is set aside so I can make room for this other person’s message. It’s a very pleasant and safe place to be, completely protected from everything else in the world.

And then I thought, maybe that’s why Theresa says she can’t turn it off. Maybe she just lives in that safe place, all the time. If I were to walk about my whole day, always in medium mode, I’d feel pretty safe, I’d probably have a lot of energy all the time. But I’d feel cut off from the rest of the world, and I feel like I’d be missing out on a lot of the things I enjoy about my day-to-day experience right now. No, constant medium mode is not for me.

But Theresa, she does many readings every day. She’s always in medium mode. Her work involves a lot of putting herself out there, a lot of energy. Maybe, leaving the light on is why she can do what she does.

I used to have opinions about mediums and psychics who just walk up to people on the street and start telling them about their lives. At some point, I must have set that judgment aside. I think Theresa’s show would’ve annoyed the crap out of me last year, I would’ve written some entry about ethics and what she “should” be doing. None of that is coming up for me now, and that’s just a change within myself which I’m quietly observing.

George, I feel you there my friend. What do you have to say about all this?

Did you know (young girl in his family – daughter? Niece?) is psychic? She’s quite gifted; I’m very (proud of her, filled with great love and admiration.) I visit her (when she meditates or thinks before she goes to sleep.) He shows me her at fifteen, and flashes to her grown up, in her twenties. I think he’s saying he used to visit her every night, and she’d talk to him before she went to sleep. Sometimes she’d think it was her imagination, but she’s getting ready to open up again. She’s just getting her feet on the ground.

So while I was typing that, I got this head rush of dizziness and a sign on the wall fell to the floor.

Shows me this young woman wading slowly into a swimming pool, as she’s wading into her mind’s potential, and it’s also a symbol of all of us wading into our – I heard the word “awakening”, and another head rush dizziness.

George, what is with this dizziness, You’re feeling it / me stronger / you’re getting stronger. It’s like a pull behind my sinus, tugging my head to the side. He laughs, it’s like he’s pulling my head around to face him, in an energetic sense. That’s what the feeling is.

It returns to (what I was saying before) Awakening to your full potential.

You know George, anything that I feel has become a buzzword, I feel this resistance to – I don’t like feeling like I’m just jumping on some new age band wagon:

Laughs – what if that wagon is (going someplace you want to be?)

George, why do I feel like I want to do this alone? I’ve always been a bit of a loner.

Only you can answer that.

I’m sorry, I think I’ve sidetracked this conversation – you wanted to talk about LIM? Theresa? Yes – you know, she’s talked with The Beatles (George and John) – her family really didn’t believe her. Shows me Theresa waving her hand at John and saying “Just leave me alone!”

That’s funny. Yes, we found it amusing. Shows me Theresa at John’s wake – was she there in New York when he died? Yes, and she was trying to get him, and she was telling him to go to the light. John just popped in later to thank her for that. She helped him. (George shows me this little skit, of John popping in front of Theresa, telling her about that, thanking her for being at his wake, and she has this Beatles fan moment of “holy moley I must be crazy now!” It’s funny, George shows me this lady who talks to dead people constantly, all the time, is not comfortable talking to famous dead people. That’s where she gets scared.)

Huh, maybe I should schedule a reading with her eh? That would be fun. That would be awesome actually.

So, dear readers, it’s Christmas time. Here in town, I’m doing a discounted reading day, 20 minutes for $20, so that locals have an opportunity to connect with their loved ones before Christmas. I’ll do something similar for you folks in the New Year, but first:

I’m going to give a free Christmas reading to one of you out there, this weekend! To enter, send an email to: tofinopsychic with the subject line “Hello from Heaven”. The winner will be selected randomly, and announced this Friday – everyone who emails me will automatically have a spot reserved for them, if they choose, for the next Readings for Readers event in January 2013.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

How to become psychic

Suggestions from this psychic in training, guest teacher & guide George Harrison

(Yeah, that’s George H. Really not sure why he wanted this pic. I went to click on the one beside it and my hand moved back to this one, like a Ouija piece. I can only imagine this moment in his life is significant to this teaching piece, for some reason.)

I believe that everyone is psychic. It’s our gift, our birthright. We are surrounded by spirits, guides and loved ones every moment of every day, all the time. If you do not consider yourself psychic right now, the first step towards tapping into your innate, natural telepathic abilities is to decide you want to do it.

Be honest. Do you really want it? Do you feel you are ready? Everyone’s afraid at times. What do you have as support? Maybe you have friends and connections through blogs like this one. Maybe you read books, or hang out with other people who are interested in this world. Consider reaching out and finding other resources locally. Meditation groups are a good place to start.

It’s okay to wait, to continue to read. It’s important to be comfortable with where you are. I suggest that if you’re interested in opening up to psychic input, that you first practice psychic boundaries and grounding techniques. You have to feel confident and in control.

Everyone’s grounding and psychic protection will be different. I think this is why I’ve been so hesitant to post my own techniques. There is no one right way. Google it, you’ll get a lot of ideas. First you need to recognize that what you create in your mind is real, if you believe it. Take responsibility for your thoughts. Learn to control your thoughts. Here’s where meditation comes in. Meditation needs to be its own entry.

For me and many other psychics, telepathic information comes in ways that can just “pop in”. Sometimes a spirit can be sitting in front of me, having a conversation in words, but more often the conversation happens more subtly – with images popping into my head, words, phrases, physical sensations, emotions, flashes of memories that aren’t mine. There can be a lot of information “downloaded” in an instant. This can take some getting used to, and I believe it can get overwhelming if you don’t feel like you have a good sense of control.

So I encourage everyone to begin with controlling their minds as they are right now. When you feel a strong emotion, can you step out of it? Does anyone outside of yourself have the power to “make” you feel a certain way, like angry or frustrated or scared? Do you recognize it when you’re triggered? Do you intentionally trigger other people into anger and frustration, in order to vent your own emotion? Can you regain control of your emotions when you recognize it?

It all starts with self-observation, and taking responsibility for your own mental state. You will need to learn the difference between your own thoughts, and thoughts that have been put there by other beings, so naturally, you’ve got to know yourself really, really well.

Having said that, don’t hold out for perfection. No one is perfect. I am far from perfect, and I am honest about my flaws. What I’m going for with this blog is for readers to see a bit of themselves here, to recognize that a psychic isn’t some special species who is above them, but someone just like them, with the same doubts, fears and confidence issues – someone who works through it. What we’re looking for is confidence, and ultimately no one can make that call but you. What do you need to be confident? A teacher? A group? Angels? Set yourself up for success.

At the same time, take a look at the obstacles. A lot of people consider money to be an obstacle in psychic development. Let me tell you,


It’s nice when people can earn a living by charging for their teaching and medium services… but that doesn’t mean you have to take a class. Borrow books from the library. Read blogs. Listen to podcasts. Ultimately, we are all self-taught. God Bless the Internet – the information is all out there and it’s pretty much free. For the record, I still want to take paid classes, and I believe that every person we encounter has something to teach us. I just want to make the point that there really are no obstacles between you and your intuitive abilities, only what you believe is there.

If you still see some insurmountable obstacle, if you’re saying to yourself, “I’d really like to learn this, but…” ask yourself why you need that obstacle? Is it keeping you safe? Is it keeping you in a familiar place?

The first thing you need to do is take responsibility for everything you create. That’s a tall order, because we create our entire lives.

Every single detail. (George H is making that very clear, and wanted me to say just that.)

Well, I guess this is turning into a series. Welcome to the Matrix.

I love it when this happens.

(Nice pic, George C.)

Jacqueline sent this link along, in case I missed it (which I had – so thank you!). I just love it when other psychics talk to the same people and get the same answers, and expand on it in ways I hadn’t thought about. I also love it when they come in the same groups! Here, George Harrison brought George Carlin along for the ride. This is just part one, I can’t wait for the rest of this chat:

I love you guys. J

I’m rather slack with tagging my entries consistently, since most of my posting is done by email. Just use the search bar and type “George” to find our past entries with George H. and George C.

So funny, I’ve been thinking about these guys.

I’ve also made a decision: This year my goal is to reset my “comfortable” state to one that is grounded and peaceful. This is not as easy as it may sound – it’s reprogramming my body and brain to automatically find its resting place in a calm, grounded, healthy state. I’ve decided that focusing on this will pay off for the rest of my life, and make it a lot easier to do difficult readings and changes when my natural reboot is a restorative place, rather than a distracted one.

For the past couple of months I’ve been noticing my coping mechanisms for the whole moving, finance, maybe-strike, crappy-car, thing has been distraction. I’ll seek out distractions like funny TV shows, high fat/sugar/salt foods, and, surprisingly, drama. It’s like an offshoot of reading gossip magazines, emotionally investing in other people’s manufactured drama. It’s a distraction, which is a coping mechanism. I’m going to retrain my coping mechanisms.

Funny that George H came up today, because he was the one who got me to quit TV some months ago, likening it to getting psychically plastered until I pass out. I’ve since relapsed and completely backslid on meditation and diet too. (Diet is SO important for telepathic communication, and this has been covered in the CE blog too.) I’ve been trying to figure out how I could have been doing so well, and suddenly it’s so difficult to keep up.

Well, I think it’s because my comfort place is distraction. That’s not rejuvenating, that’s not healing, and that’s not good enough for what I want to do with my life.

So this year is devoted to resetting my resting place from one of distraction, to one of peace.

I could use some help, please.

The Wallet

It’s interesting to me, knowing that we’re being watched. Personally, I set up a shield of privacy in the bathroom and at certain times (ahem) in the bedroom, but other than that I like to hear and share my life with our friends in heaven.

The flip side of this is what I call the Santa Claus effect. When you *know* you’re being watched, do you behave differently?

Last week I found a wallet. It had a substantial amount of cash in it – like, four months of gas or two months of insurance or two weeks of groceries or two nights in a nice resort kind of cash. The thing is, I immediately knew when I picked it up this woman *needed* this money.

I then looked at the card pockets and noted there were no credit cards. No credit cards, plus mature woman wallet plus lots of cash? This is someone who’s been bankrupt.

I had a moment, you know? I thought about what we could do with that money. But I decided that I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t try to get the wallet back to its owner, so I left my number with the clerk at the store where I found it.

Three days passed and I didn’t hear anything. In this time, I explored the wallet’s contents completely, and discovered a cover letter for this woman’s son, (which had several grammatical and spelling errors) a note on where her son lived, which is a notorious part of town and attracts people with all kinds of financial, mental and addiction problems I also found a bank slip showing that at the time this woman withdrew the cash, she’d overdrawn her bank account by $700.

Still, I kind of hoped she wouldn’t call, you know?

Tuesday night, the phone rang. She said her name was L, and she’d like to pick up her wallet. The trouble was, I wasn’t in town at that moment, but I expected to be home in an hour.

Her: “Well, no, I have to leave right now. I’m going home to ___.”

Me: “I could mail it to you?”

Her: “No, I need it right now. Can I go to your house? Is it locked?”

Me: “(WTF) No, you can’t go to my house, it’s locked.”

Her: “Doesn’t anyone have a key?”

Me: “No. There are two options here, if you want your wallet tonight you need to wait until I return, or I can mail it to you.”

Her: “Can I call you back?”

Me: “Sure.”

She hangs up and now I’m REALLY regretting leaving my phone number. I contemplated not answering the phone when it rang again. She didn’t even say thank you! Can you believe it? I could have taken the cash and dumped the wallet. I could have left the wallet with the cashier, leaving it open for someone ELSE to steal the cash. I could have quietly tucked it away and not mentioned it to anyone.

You know what? I thought of George. In that moment, the only thing keeping me honest was knowing that if I *didn’t* give it back to her, George and I would be having a talk about. Not a finger-shaking moralizing talk, but a discussion about the energy and the emotions around the situation. I don’t know why I thought it would be George and not any number of other teachers and helpers involved in my life on the other side.

I understand that when we die we do a life review, in which we observe the consequences of our choices and how they impact the lives of other people. I knew if I kept that wallet, I’d be looking at how I was victimizing this woman – rude as she was – yet again in her life. In that moment, my spirituality was the only thing preventing me from keeping that woman’s money.

The Santa Claus effect. See how that works?

How did I become the sort of person who would keep a wallet she found? (I was raised to know better, you know.) I became an entrepreneur. I co-owned a business with my Sweetie. Anyone who’s run a business knows what it’s like to get screwed over. If you go into business for yourself, it’s likely you’ll be screwed over either intentionally and with malice, or accidentally, by chance, bad luck, and even by your own decisions. Too many business people divorce their ethics from their business actions by saying, “It isn’t personal, it’s just business.” That’s the dark side… it’s easy to get sucked into that game.

I had a fair bit of anger to work out in the wake of our entrepreneurial adventure, and as evidenced by this wallet incident, it seems I’m still working through post-traumatic entrepreneurial stress.

I seriously thought back on all the times I felt screwed over by other people, and thought, “Well maybe this will compensate. Maybe I deserve this money, after what we went through.”

The fact that the woman who owned the wallet was a rude bitch didn’t help things.

I did, in the end, return this woman’s call. While I was mulling over our options, she was probably thinking about it too. She left quite a sweet message on my voice mail thanking me profusely and offering me $10 “for your honesty.” I was so freaking weird.

When I met this woman in the dark, drizzly parking lot of the store, I was startled to be greeted by two people in a van – the owner of the wallet, a woman in her fifties with a Canadian accent, and her mother, a woman in her seventies with a Scottish accent. (The rude woman on the phone had the Scottish accent, and I realized in that moment that I hadn’t been talking to the wallet’s owner at all, but her controlling mother.) When I touched the mother’s hand as I gave her the wallet I got this flash of information and understood a lot more about this family’s history than I care to share, and this is very strange; in general, I NEVER violate a person’s privacy by reading them without permission. It was utterly involuntary, and maybe it was part of the spiritual lesson.

Actually, I believe it was.

After returning the wallet, Sweetie & I had a discussion about the energetic consequences of this course of action. Returning the wallet was not at all an enjoyable experience, so what was the point?

I think we create our reality: if we behave as though we’re lacking, we’re going to create lack. We don’t need that money so much that we had to keep it – and by returning it, surely we were widening the doors for more money to come into our life. Right?

Well I’ll tell you, since the wallet incident, Sweetie has been called in to work and has made more money than we gave back. AND we cleaned up at Bingo last night. We really do have more money coming in. Our work is paying off, and it’s really, really nice. We’re changing the matrix.

In other news: a prestigious local gallery, owned by a rather famous first nations’ artist, is hiring a gallery manager. Sweetie is eminently qualified, and it will be the best thing to happen to her, job wise, in several years. Please help us by holding in your mind the image of Sweetie in her new gallery job, smiling and doing well. Thank you.

So who’s here? I believe that’s Kurt.

Kurt, what is up with all the Sputnik references recently? It’s come up in multiple shows we’ve watched recently, was mentioned on the radio and randomly in conversations in the past week. Last night it was one of the shapes in Bingo. We figured it was the name of the band we should listen to (nodding) – Uh, why?

Well I’m not going to tell you what you should think of them, (decide for yourself.)

Why do you want us to listen to them?

(Isn’t it obvious?) Because I think they’re cool.

Hey, do you feel like talking today? I kind of feel like you’re far away, or holding back.

No, that’s not me it’s (shows me the electrical craziness in my brain – I kind of feel a migraine coming on.)

Kurt, could you please help me ground that out? I don’t need a headache today.

Are you sure? (apparently I’m tired and that’s the only way I’ll let myself relax tonight.)

Okay, maybe I just need to ignore the mess at home tonight. Maybe we’ll just hide out in the bedroom, watching movies.

(That’ll probably help, and talk to George just before you fall asleep.) Alrighty.

Happy Weekend Everyone!

(As mentioned in previous entries, I have assistance / feedback on the photos I use in these entries. There was a fair amount of back-and-forth on the photo options for Kurt today, finally settling on this photo because Kurt remembers having migraines and says it made him feel like blowing his brains out. That’s a sort-of tongue-in-cheek comment, but it’s literal too, which is typical Kurt. He also REALLY liked these photos at the time they were taken.

I can’t tell you how damn uncomfortable I feel posting this bit, but I’m not going to sensor it. Really, I think he was just making a joke at his own expense. Now he’s telling me I ruined it by over-explaining it, and for the record he encourages me to just post the photo, explanation free, and those who “get it” will appreciate it. In compromise, I’m going to copy and paste this explanation to the end of this entry.)

Soul Bubbles

2015 02 soul bubbles

There’s been some interesting questions arise from my own past life explorations and those of other people.  It seems that sometimes, memories of incarnations can overlap in time, which makes no logical sense initially.

It would be easy to assume that in the case of a past life recall overlap, that something about the recall must be wrong.  Surely, you can be incarnated only in one place at one time.  Right?

And what about the information psychics are pulling up about Jesus?  In the Jesus interview on the Channeling Erik blog, it came up that Jesus is currently incarnated as a woman.  It’s funny that so many people are awaiting the “second coming of Christ” – he’s probably been incarnated a few times since being Jesus.  Yet, he’s been incredibly widely available to anyone who asks for him, or seeks a personal relationship with him.  How is this possible?

There’s definitely this thing some call the “higher self”.  Imagine there’s this conscious, every-day part of yourself that experiences your life but also experiences this sort of amnesia, or a disconnection from heaven.  This is part of the point of incarnation.

At night as you sleep, or if you meditate and leave your body, you can connect with a “higher” part of your consciousness, a part that remembers.  Sometimes the lessons I learn while in this state I’m able to integrate into my every-day consciousness, and sometimes I just wake up knowing that I understand *something* new, some question was answered but I don’t remember what was asked.  It’s okay to forget what you know.

It is possible to communicate with the “higher self” of an incarnated individual, as I did with my father (the day my dog died.)  His day-to-day consciousness doesn’t remember the conversation, but our relationship changed subtly afterward, in a good way.

So arguably, it’s possible that spiritual leaders and seekers the world over have been accessing the “higher self” of Jesus.

But that doesn’t feel right to me… there’s something more going on there.

While meditating with George, I asked about Jesus.  “How is it he can be so completely available, yet incarnated at the same time?”

George smiles and says, “I’m going to show you something.”

He shows me a bubble in the vastness of space.  He says “Think of this as an individual consciousness.”  Then a second individual bubble appears.

The bubbles approach each other and then merge into each other, becoming a single bubble.  A single consciousness, with the shared histories and experiences.  Now this bubble goes into a body and becomes incarnated in a particularly challenging life.

“Occasionally, it is best to join together.”  He says this explaining that our previous lives prepare us for more challenging lives to come, different lessons building on what we’d learned before.  Sometimes you need more than a single stream of experiences through linear time.  Twice as many lives makes you twice as prepared for what’s to come.

Now the bubble inhabits the body through the incarnation.  In this time, there are not two consciousnesses individually residing within the body, there is only one, single being.

Now the body dies, the bubble leaves the body.  And the bubble splits off.  Into three new bubbles.

Each bubble contains the knowledge of the original two bubble’s past lives, as well as the most recent incarnation.

Each bubble is in a way, a completely new consciousness, but all the soul history is there.  Two soul histories overlapped.  Now this background of experience can move in three new directions, simultaneously.

And as past lives are recalled, it is possible to tap into two lives which overlapped from when the original two bubbles were separate.  Perhaps the three new bubbles will join together later, perhaps they will return to the Great Spirit (or the big bubble in the sky).  Perhaps they will remain individual bubbles for a millennia.

It challenges our ideas of our own individuality.  If this concept contradicts our ideas of ourselves, perhaps we feel frightened or threatened.

How do we define ourselves?  By our separateness?  By our experiences?

Takes a bit of mind-bending to get my head around.  It’s precisely the sea urchin lesson again, yet expanded:  how easily a new consciousness falls away from the source; how joyous, the return to the whole.

And how funny it is to google “soul bubbles” and find this term’s already been used in several video games, including Mario Bros. Partners in Time.

John, George & Kurt on Addiction

2015 02 george heroin

I try to keep the blog balanced between heavy stuff and happy stuff.  We’re a bit heavy on heavy stuff this week, please bear with us.

Sweetie & I had an intense conversation with George & Kurt yesterday on heroin addiction.  Once, when Sweetie had been listing off her grievances with regard to our stressful and failing business, George had quipped, “Well, you could just take up heroin.  That way you’d have one large problem instead of an assortment of small ones.”

We watched a few youtube videos about Kurt; you wouldn’t believe the string of heinous comments on some of those posts.  One comment that stuck in my mind was “He was a junkie and he killed himself, big surprise.”  I felt this huge wave of protest coming from Kurt as I read that comment.

It’s pretty well impossible to get through large-scale rock & roll success without getting into some sort of self-abuse.  The only thing that kept John from mainlining heroin was his near-crippling fear of needles.  He shared this with me when visited me at the hospital once (my work) as I tossed a syringe and needle into the sharps bucket.  I felt a physical shudder from him at the sight of the bloody sharp.

George, sadly, didn’t have any such fear to keep him from mainlining, and with heroin you’re pretty much addicted from the first hit.  George checked into rehab and detoxed.  He meditated a LOT.  Fortunately for George, he had built up a lot of spiritual strength before he had to battle addiction.

Kurt had neither advantage.  He, like George, was hooked from the first hit.  He took H in a desperate attempt to find relief from chronic gut pain and anxiety (screaming his lungs out on stage helped a bit, but not enough.)  Unlike George, Kurt had no spiritual education, no faith, and therefore no help.  He repeatedly tried to seek medical help to get off of heroin, but the doctors he went to patronized him, told him he’d be in constant pain during the detox period, told him he’d be battling urges to shoot up for a decade to come.  Well who the hell would sign up for that?  So he’d leave the belittling, dominating asshole doctor behind and return to his addiction, but feel all the more worthless.

As Kurt told us this story, I felt George’s anger.  This is the first time I’ve felt anything but Zen comin’ from George.  George shook his head in sadness and disgust, because Kurt had been denied the correct information intentionally.  Had Kurt found any doctor with a scrap of morals, or called a few rehab centers himself, he would have learned that methadone would prevent him from experiencing the worst of the detox effects.  And since he was a rock star and could afford all the medical world had to offer, Kurt even could have been kept sedated through the worst of the detox if he became too uncomfortable.  He could have gone somewhere secluded, dropped out of the rock scene entirely.  No one told him this.

Instead, I see stacks of money and a flash of a doctor telling Kurt the horrors of heroin detox.  Doctors who wanted this rich rock-star’s business for years to come.  You don’t offer a quick cure to someone who can afford a long one.  Kurt felt trapped, in so many ways.

I guess, every junkie feels trapped.  The word “junkie” doesn’t do justice to the humanity of the person suffering.

Meanwhile, Heaven opens another door…

On Saturday, while Sweetie & I went into town to do some shopping, a police volunteer came in with a flier of a missing girl.  The cashier announced the flier was posted at the register and could all customers please come take a look.

I’ve never tried to use my psychic abilities to find a missing person.  I asked George, “Should I try to help?”  The answer came roaring back “OF COURSE YOU SHOULD HELP!  Why do you think this flier arrived while you were here?”

Now, it’s one thing to be psychic and read for your friends and family.  It’s a step up to hang a shingle and hire your services out.  It’s another step again to teach.  I’ve taken all of these steps pretty quickly and I’ve been welcomed and supported, thank goodness.  But to out-of-the-blue contact a worried mother about her missing child?  There is a huge amount of responsibility there to do no harm.

Yet I trust my spirit friends.  Everything I’ve experienced told me it would be fine.  I went to far as to take down the mother’s information and I did a meditation to see what I could get…  I got quite a bit.  I wanted to pick up the phone and call, but I just. Couldn’t. do it.
Today I was thinking about it and I said to Kurt, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this missing persons stuff.”  I am the sort of person that when someone asks for help, I want to be able to give it to them.  But this situation had me doubting myself again.   What if I was wrong?  What if I told this poor woman that her daughter was fine, and maybe she turned up dead later?

Yet, I knew this was one door Heaven had opened for me, and I had promised to do the work.  I was so conflicted.

I felt Kurt’s reassurance.  “It’s alright.  Go look at the news.”
So I pulled up the latest newspaper article and lo, the girl had been found.  The brief details given in the article concurred with the information I’d gotten.  If I had called, everything would have been alright.  But, it was just fine that I hadn’t called too, because that was meant to be educational.  To show me I can do it.

“We’ll never ask you to do something you can’t accomplish,” says John with a smile.

Well, that’s comforting.

EDIT:  May 10, 2012

Further to this entry, please also read:

It talks in more detail about Kurt’s repeated attempts at rehab, which were more numerous than he’d intitially implied.  He used all sorts of medication prescribed by various doctors, some ethically, some inethically, and he obtained many tranquilizers illegally to supplement his treatment.  It was a much longer battle than he talks about here, and from the outside looking in, it really seems like everyone around him did everything they possibly could to help.

After listening to the biography, “Heavier than Heaven,” I felt like the version Kurt gave me of his battle with addiction was dishonest.  Rather than dishonest, really, it was simply incomplete.  It’s the story told from his perspective at the time, when he was incapable of seeing what everyone else was doing for him, or the impact he had on those around him.  You ask any addict to tell their story, they’ll usually blunt the edges.  It’s excrutiating to face the pain you have caused.

I have to give Kurt props for talking to me about addiction at all.  Neither George nor John has gone into detail, and I sense this “do not trespass” on the topic.  But maybe that’ll change in time.  We’ll see.

All Kurt could perceive was his own suffering; even when he acknowledged the impact he had on Courtney and would potentially have on Frannie, he used his guilt as self-flagulation to further amplify his own suffering.

Maybe we’ll have a more detailed conversation to clarify a few more points.

George’s Second House Call

This is one of those blog entries when I am glad that my blog is (mostly) anonomous.  I imagine there are some readers who will take in this entry and just think I’m full of shit.  Well, this is my experience; if it does not speak to your heart as truth, I can understand your doubt.  I would doubt this story myself if I read it on someone else’s blog.  I’d doubt the whole experience, if it hadn’t been so powerful.  I can’t deny it’s reality to me. 

George has been pretty “on me” about the TV thing.  I got home last night utterly exhausted with aching pain up and down my spine, and a deep sense of weariness.  Resolved to get some decent food into my body, I juiced some veggies (half spinach, the other half fennel, apple, parsley, celery, lemon) with the help of my Sweetie, and sat sipping my “green juice” while staring at nothing in particular.  This would’ve been a prime TV watching state.

I took a bath, started getting ready for bed.  George was right there again.  “Please, meditate with me tonight.”  Okay, George.

I finally get myself settled in, a single tea light lit on the windowsill.  George spent quite a bit of time getting me into the right posture, drawing my attention to this joint or that, showing me why actually crossing my legs caused the circulation to my feet to stop, so I should instead lay my left leg over my right.  Always left over right, to compensate for the gentle curve in my spine (scoliosis).  It was nearly impossible for me to sit upright because of my aching back, but after a lot of arranging, I was slouched in a position that allowed an acceptable energy flow.

So how did it start?  Oh yes.

George then addressed the pain in my back; he pressed his thumbs into the tension in my back shoulders, and then released the knots behind my shoulder blades.  I floated over my body for a moment to see George doing reiki-like energy work to unblock the flow of energy through my spine.  I was drawn back into my body completely, and then I heard a sound like sheets snapping on a clothesline; I experienced huge wings unfolding from my back, stretching high above me.  And then I understood that I’m in angel training too.

(When I told Sweetie about this last night, she nodded, nonplussed, because apparently John had already told me that I’m in angel training.  I just hadn’t internalized the information.)

Pain relieved, kind of in awe, I sat there on the bed, in the dark, and waited.  I found my mantra, simple, faithful:  Om Namah Shivaya.  It’s a great one for general balancing and grounding… and perfect for this point in my life.  God’s will, be done.

I noticed a change in my breathing; I could suddenly take deep breaths, I was almost gasping for a moment there.  Om Namah (inhale) Shivaya (exhale).  I observed my mind in Good Old Meditation, observed my focus drift.  I observed finance worries about my upcoming class.  I rolled those worries into a tennis-sized ball and gave it to the Creator (via one of those suction tubes you see in large organizations sometimes – you know, where you roll up paper and put it into a case, and the tube sucks it to central filing?  Well, when I needed it, I had a suction tube to God’s inbox.  Apparently, the Creator keeps up with his workload quite well. 😉

I observed teaching worries and followed the thought to the cause of personal insecurity.  I allowed the insecurity to trickle down from my body and flow into the ground.  So far, this was familiar work.

For a while, maybe a half-hour, I sat in meditation, believing that was the point.  I sensed the meditation come to completion, and in my mind I looked up at George.  I asked for a hug again, feeling I needed emotional support.  My spirit left my body and stepped forward just as in the previous night, but it didn’t feel the same. 

Then I understood that I was supposed to remain in my body, and George would come to me.  So, as I returned to my seated form, my body slightly curved forward (as I was very drowsy at this point) I sensed George crouch down in front of me and then take my body and my soul into his arms, and lift me up, just enough to show that he was carrying all of my weight.  I could relax utterly, every muscle in my body, and he held me up.

And then, something else, some other burden was being lifted.  I felt emotion rise in a wave, through my gut and up my throat, where it became stuck.  The instruction came to inhale through my nose and breathe out my mouth, which would move the energy block.  I did.  And this river of memory poured from my body and soul, as though I was throwing up memory.  Very bad memories.

I started to see flashes of memory as I experienced the emotion pour out of me.  My stomach contracted and my spine rolled forward over my knees as the breath was pushed out of my chest in a whispered scream of inexpressible emotional pain.  Heartbreak, fear, crushing depression – all those worst experiences of my adult life – flash for each moment and I understood every second of pain I felt.  This is the memory of that breakup.  This is the memory of that injury.  That trauma.  That heartbreak.  That devastation.  That betrayl.  Things I had forgotten, I re-experienced in microseconds as the experiences poured out of my body.  Out of my soul.

Childhood memories.  Then past life tragedies.  Me, screaming in anguish as I held my dead son, covered in blood.  Oh my God!  Then George, a gentle whisper We don’t have to do all of it in one night.

Deep Breath.  George gently lifted my body from its slumped forward position back into upright meditation posture.  The front of my shirt was soaked with tears.  I don’t know how long I’d been emoting.  My breathing was deep and complete, controlled, but raw.  Every breath carried residual, emotional memories.

Again, I observed my mind as I allowed my body to completely relax into George’s support.  I tell you, I was limp, completely leaning my head against his shoulder, he supported my full weight, yet, there was no sensation from my skin that I was actually touching anyone.  I don’t know how to explain it.

I remember at this point thinking “This is going to be one hell of a blog entry.”  George chuckled and gently pulled my mind back into the moment.  There’s always a part of me looking at my life as a potential story to share. 

Around this time I also came to the understanding that TV at night is the way I was coping with all of this underlying emotion.  There’s something about this build-up store of sadness that prevents me from transitioning in and out of sleep.  I’ve had insomnia ever since I was a baby.  My poor mother – at one point, when I was three years old, she became so sleep deprived as a result of my constant sleep disturbances that she started to hallucinate, she thought that my father’s grandmother (the psychic one) was telling her to kill me.  (This is extra-interesting since I’m beginning to suspect that I am my father’s grandmother.)  

This is a conversation I had with my mother only recently, as part of healing our relationship.  I had heard that at one point I’d “made my mother crazy” and I was still carrying guilt from that, even though I was a child when it happened and had no control over the situation.  Very fortunately, my mother had known to ask for help, and she never, ever blamed me.  Around this time, my parents started playing books on tape to me to help me sleep.  Her friend Drew even personally recorded some of the “Green Forest” stories on tape with guitar songs he’d written for me.  I kept those tapes for 25 years.

After a while, George settled the weight of my body back onto its spine, and my muscles re-engaged.  Everything was working again.  I felt like I’d died, then been healed and returned to a body that was lighter, stronger and healthier than it had ever been before.

I was tired, but a healthy tired.  Not the emotional tired I’d been two hours before, but a “I’ve worked hard and accomplished something” tired.  A “ready for a good sleep” tired.  Yet I still felt emotionally raw and utterly vulnerable. 

George asked, “Would you like me to stay with you through the night?”

“YES.  Yes, please, I would appreciate that.  Thank you.” 

At this point I went back into the living room to have a good cuddle with my Sweetie where I shared the whole experience with her.  I drank a lot of water, and went back to the bedroom, where I set up a few TV shows for my transition into sleep.  Futurama.  George says the talking heads in jars are grotesque (tongue in cheek.)

As I settled in to sleep, George reclined in a chair and cracked open a beer.

“George, that’s the first time I’ve seen you drink beer!”

“Well, so long as we’re polluting ourselves,” *gesture to the TV*  OH, TOUCHE!

For me, watching TV before sleeping is like getting psychically drunk enough to pass out.  I had no idea I was self-medicating with TV.  Well, I knew I had a terrible time sleeping without it… but I’d never seen it as an addiction, or a problem, before now.

George stayed with me all night, and I believe I stayed in my body the whole time.  Today, George has been checking in on me periodically.  I guess to make sure I don’t break down in tears at work.  I don’t feel like crying, but I do feel like some thick skin I’d formed between my soul and my incarnated experience has been stripped away.  Every little thing I do seems to be an emotional experience – not a bad experience, though.  It’s like my emotions have been cranked up again, as though my emotional response is an additional sense through which I perceive the world.

I remember a comment on my kindergarten report card:  “Attentive, but cries quite often.” 

Today, I picked up an extra half-shift at the hospital and was trained on laundry so that I could help with a staffing shortage.  I’ve been folding sheets, blankets and towels for hours.  When George checked in, I asked if he could play me something on the radio.  He said, “Oh, that’s really more John’s thing.”  So John promptly pops in and says, “You haven’t forgotten me?  Have you been seduced by George’s charms?”  *wry smile

A few minutes later, this song comes on.  I’d never heard it before, but I recognized John’s voice.  I laughed my ass off:

“Mean Mr. Mustard”

Mean Mister Mustard sleeps in the park
Shaves in the dark trying to save paper
Sleeps in a hole in the road
Saving up to buy some clothes
Keeps a ten-bob note up his nose
Such a mean old man
Such a mean old man

His sister Pam works in a shop
She never stops, she’s a go-getter
Takes him out to look at the queen
Only place that he’s ever been
Always shouts out something obscene
Such a dirty old man
Dirty old man

No John, George has not replaced you!  If you were incarnated I’d, “You’d what?”  John wiggles his eyebrows?  “Give me a kiss?” 

“Yes, I’d give you a kiss!”  (calling him on it, the shameless flirt.)  John then pretends to faint in delight.  Nice.

How wonderful and strange my life has become.  I wouldn’t change it back though.  No sirree.