There has been silence in my personal blogosphere because my son has been very sick this past week. He’s still not feeling well, but things are a little closer to normal, so I will take a moment to report on another fine dream I had last week. As you might recall, a week before that, I was grappling with the dilemna of how to create an interesting piece of art with only dull white buttons to work with. Well, this dream is a lot shinier and much more promising:
I was out somewhere in some sort of a loose group setting in a community of acquaintences, although we each shuttled around alone a lot, within that setting. Actually, it was just like traveling the world with a group of semi-strangers, all of us carrying backpacks or suitcases and staying in hostels.
I had gone to a bank in one of the cities and taken out the contents of my safety deposit box. Or possibly, I had inherited the contents of someone else’s safety deposit box. I remember that the woman bank teller helping me, began to suddenly let me know how poor she was and how much her family needed money, the moment she saw what I was taking out of the deposit box. It was a clear, plastic mesh sack of uncut diamonds, each about the size of a large lime. They looked like clear glass baubles, not at all like the valuable things they were purported to be. There were ten of these lime-sized uncut diamonds and holding them in their see-through sack made me think of the many times in a grocery store when I had carried fruit in exactly this way. Except, that no one else would ask me for one of them as this bank teller was doing in her desperation for ready cash brought on by the sight of such a poundage of diamonds.
I thought about giving her one, but I never encourage the act of begging. However, it tipped me off to the likely reaction of others, if they should learn what I was now carrying around with me. I had to cross some field, dragging my suitcase and a pile of other stuff, in the course of our travels. In the hostel dorm sleeping room, I had to leave my diamonds behind in the suitcase when I came and went. This ownership was already inconvenient, because it was necessary to remain aware of my responsibility to protect these diamonds-in-the-rough and get them where they needed to go.
I wondered if, somehow, the others knew about the changed value status of my baggage and I felt vaguely sure that they did. Had the teller told them, perchance? Even so, I was extremely nonchalant with my stuff, only concealing the bag’s contents with a towel casually thrown across the top, figuring that they wouldn’t exactly suspect that I had diamonds with me. Who in the world would just happen to think of such a thing, in the middle of a group trip?
This sack of glass limes was a worriesome thing to me and I never quite got around to translating that into a mental picture of all the ease and luxury that they could, eventually, buy for me. I do remember shuffling through my mental roll-a-dex trying to figure out who to take them to for whatever operation came next. Where does an amateur start? Who would one get to cut such valuable objects? How do you know who to trust?
Maybe all these books I’m churning out are my “glass limes,” my diamonds-in-the-rough? My third book will go to the printer soon and then I will prepare the others, which are already written. Right now, only my friends and family know about them, because I can’t stop publishing long enough to do any marketing. So, they’re essentially hidden in my suitcase being dragged across the field.
Maybe I’m the Diamond-Cutter and that’s what I’m doing right now???
My last post mentioned a recent remote Chiropractic diagnosis and treatment, when the doctor was in Hawaii and I was here in Florida, but I could feel his arrival and departure and the movement of his mind and hands during the hour he was with me. I was told to watch for dreams that might bubble to the surface in the weeks ahead, to see if they contained any cryptic commentary upon my life. I did have a funny one which I will share with you here:
When I first woke, I dismissed the dream as dull and unimportant, but then I realized that it was a comment on nonconformity. I lived in New York city and was loosely-attached to a group of thirty-somethings, all roughly my age. We attended a well-established art center where the whole idea was to draw buttons. Nothing else, only buttons… the potential models of which were displayed all over the walls, stuck on pins. Before we sat at the long, open tables with our sketch paper, we were to select our model buttons and bring them to our place and proceed to make art.
The trouble was that they were all bland and white, mostly large, but with no distinctive features. Just plain white buttons. Everyone else would get happily to work, but I spent lots of time at the wall trying to figure out how to use this dull conglomeration creatively. Maybe shading? But there were no uneven surfaces to create shadows. I remember trying to include a bumpy pebble to jazz up the composition, but somehow, that was scotched by the woman in charge.
The only sketching that ever took place for me was in my mind, wondering how I could apply my minimal artistic skills to create something interesting with such terribly limited material; especially since the whole group was working with exactly the same buttons, day after day, year after year.
None of them complained or even seemed to notice that there was a problem. In fact, they loved the ease and simplicity of the assignment and cheerfully spent their entire time concentrating upon an exact rendering of their chosen button, or buttons; while I spent my entire time merely trying to find something to work with.
It all came to a head one day, when we were sitting at lunch together at a long table. I was at one end and the owner of the art clinic was at the other. All the happy-camper women were sitting along either side. With no criticism in mind, I asked the woman in charge how anyone could draw an interesting picture with such dull, limited material for models. I was taken aback by her attitude, which was to lean towards me with venom in her eyes and say, “Well, if you don’t like it, you can just get out, right now!”
I don’t think I left. Perhaps I really didn’t have that option, as I needed to remain with these other women; but I returned to the task of trying to come up with something worthy of drawing, knowing that I would get no help from the leader and also knowing that I had now stepped on her toes by attacking her own life’s work, and she would have none of it or of me. Neither she, nor the others, even saw the inherent limits.
When I was telling this dream to Randy, my son, he immediately understood the underlying comparison to much of what passes for meaningful life in the outside world. He remembered attending church with his dad, hearing exactly the same words, week after week and going through the same motions. Sometimes, even the “original” sermon sounded canned, like a dull button being pulled off the wall and used again and again. Hymns were chosen from the same book and seeded into the cookie-cutter services all year long, ad infinitum. And yet, the congregation never complained, or thought to complain, and even became defensive when anyone suggested that there could be more to a spiritual life.
Any independent thinker, stuck in this sort of a society, is reduced to bleak frustration, picking through the selection of nothing-special, hoping to eventually find some way to be creative. This dream could apply to anyone stuck in a dull marriage, a dull job, a dull diet, a dull town, a lack of education and many more immovable, unimaginative, life situations. Such dreamers could become, deep within their hearts, the non-conformist who knows that there surely is more than this to life. They long to find a way to express the creativity that begs to be released from their own inner self.
They really don’t mind the button-lovers. But they are so desperate to know that there are others like themselves out there in the wider world. If only they will act upon the slit-eyed advice and walk out of that buttoned-down art center forever, they might just bump into like-minded souls and find a whole universe full of interesting subjects to sketch.
Last week, I discovered the ultimate in the new way that Medicine is going to be practiced in the future. Dr. Jamie Rolwing performed remote diagnosis and a wonderful mix of chiropractic, yoga, reiki healing and other ancient forms of medical treatment upon me, even though he was four-thousand miles, and several time zones, away from me.
The moment I heard of him, I knew that i had to experience this because much of my spiritual awakening has included the presence of those who were not with me physically. Many of these Visitors were from the Upper Realms, but some… well, at least one, claimed to be living on Earth. I usually discounted that local planet idea but was completely willing to believe in those from different dimensions. Now, when I learned of someone so completely secure in this ability, that he includes it in his list of professional services, I knew that I had to find out what goes on and how it feels.
I wondered if I would even know when he was there because, apparently, many people cannot feel him while he is working on them, remotely, and it isn’t even essential to set a time for his treatment. Not for me! I wanted to know how and when, so we set 6 p.m. on Tuesday for the diagnosis and 6 p.m. on Friday for the treatment. That would be noon, his time in Hawaii. I had to scrounge up three physical or mental complaints for him to concentrate upon, as he would also be looking for past-life causes for present day ailments. I say scrounge, because I have very good health and have few problems, other than a stiff neck and an arthritic knee, which I drag around with me and forget. I also passed on to him the latest results of my Health Fair exam, which were all quite good.
By the afternoon of my first appointment, I felt pretty well acquainted after all the email in setting this up, so I was chatting away with him, telepathically, as I prepared for the appointment. As a clairaudient telepathic myself, I talk away in private with such personalities that I might snag through books or movies or even friends and family members; but I’ve never had confirmation that they can actually hear me and I usually assume that I am speaking to their “higher self.”
So, at six, I was lying on my bed, deliberately quieting my mind, when I felt the distinct whump of Jamie’s arrival and almost immediate filling of my entire body, especially my head. He had said in his instructions, that he sensed the person’s pain or disabilities at corresponding sites in his own body. Now, this was a brand-new sensation and it was irrefutable proof, to me, that “someone else” was with me and I could feel his mind pressing upon all the inner surfaces of my skull. Though I am not clairvoyant, I did see a few pictures and scenes, almost like a warm-up, but then the inner video tape began to move very, very fast and continued to whir for almost an hour. Instead of broadcasting material, it seemed to be absorbing material from my past and present lives. I did my best to keep my own thoughts disengaged, so that they wouldn’t interfere with the process. This wonderful and amazing experience continued for about an hour and then, his presence left, just as suddenly as it had arrived.
In the morning, my email contained a very thorough report with twelve points of his findings. It was very specific as to the ages in present and past lives, when certain underlying conditions had set in. He reported on a life 132 years ago, 1878, when I was female in Russia, dealing with ethnic cleansing and ostracism by my peers. He also gave many comments about this life, concerning my fears about how my family members and society at large would react to my spiritual beliefs… my “forbidden spirituality,” which had radically-changed from the first part of my life. Much was spot on, even to relationships with those close to me. A male life in Hungary in 1375, and another as a boy in South America in 1614, had me dealing with problems of heart disease and pancreatic infections.
Friday’s treatment segment was different, in that he did not need to enter my body, but seemed to be right beside me, moving hands over various limbs. I could easily follow the fluttery movement, or slight pricks or sensations as the hour progressed. I suppose he was dealing with my astral body, which the physical body can also feel but not in a one-hundred-percent way. This was the extremely-familiar routine which I have experienced many, many times since 1980, when my spiritual senses suddenly blew open. What a confirmation this was, because I knew this was deliberately being done by someone alive on Earth, who was far, far away from me. It was also being done by one who is very skilled and sure, as well as benevolent and spiritual.
I now knew that all of my past visits by disembodied healers, or by those who had simply dropped in via their mental or telepathic powers, had actually taken place and are not the stuff of my dreams or my imagination. I wonder if this is what some people consider to be treatments by aliens who have come in spaceships? I can certainly understand how they would get that impression because you know you are being touched; but you also know that there is no one present in the room with you. Well, why should intervention by aliens feel any different from this? In my opinion, “Aliens” are those Upper Ones who come to check on Earth from their own dimensions. Maybe many of us don’t feel them, but some, like myself, can clearly tell what’s happening. So, here’s another mystery beginning to clear up a little bit, because one other person, Dr. Rolwing, is brave enough to explain a bit of it to us.
Just as it is when I leave a local Chiropractor’s office, I don’t notice any miracle cures, but that’s only because I always feel good. The past life information will be pondered and filed among all the other bits of esoteric knowledge about myself… of which I have a great deal due to my running conversation with The Holy Spirit. But the major reason for sampling this healing avenue was the rare opportunity to see if another living being could come into my presence in any other way than physical. Now I know that the answer is YES!
Three hundred copies of my new book, In Secret Diffusion: The Upper Realm Answers Questions About Earth have come to my house, after a long nine months in the making. So, things have grown very busy around here and I now feel like a busy traffic cop, directing lots and lots of vehicles….all driven by me.
Suddenly, I’m awash with duties brought on by the responsibilities of doing the best thing for this newborn book. I’m sending out copies of this book to those who have been waiting for it, as well as reviewers and whoever might be able to help it get where it is going. So, it’s back and forth to the post office.
There is another website, www.insecretdiffusion.com to bring into full bloom and being. It is started but not yet finished, so you can peek a tiny bit, but come back soon.
There are marketing plans to be made with my newly-recruited crew of talented marketeers, who are just learning what to do about internet promotion. We are all going to learn together but I’m thrilled to have so many helping hands. Talk about training courses, and dowloads, and confusing details! We’re like a bunch of clowns throwing papers in the air, right about now, corresponding like crazy in emails every day, giving each other lots of extra work just to digest and answer those, but having a learning extravaganza in the process.
I’m working away at the writing and production of my next two books, which I mentioned in the previous blog and have just sent one of them off to a copyeditor. The other has been reviewed by some sailing experts and is well under weigh, as they say at sea.
BUT, the sun is shining brightly during this week of storm and rain, so I am off to the beach right now to swim and walk along the sandy shore! I’m too hard a taskmaster on myself and so I’ve insisted on a little time off. She sells seashells by the seashore!!!