Caretaking 101

Sara awakened from her dream that morning earlier than usual. It must have been the 7pm bedtime the night before. Oft recited words ran through her mind like a cursed mantra that almost blocked the images she wanted to savor. Remembering the dreams was a key part of Sara’s ability to survive in the world. They were her personal messengers of light, the only messages that allowed Sara to know herself like she’d always wanted others to know her.

“It’s better to give than to receive.” The words resonated as though it was 1960 again. Sara’s Mother taught her early on to be considerate of others, drumming that golden rule into every cell of her body. She wasn’t allowed to be an individual with her own thoughts and ideas, nor was she given many opportunities to speak or show that she had any of her own gifts, as she was busy making other people feel more comfortable.

Sara knew the words and the beliefs she developed from those words were a lie all along. She just couldn’t separate them from herself long enough to find the truth. At some point along the way they were so entangled with her sense of self, it became incredibly challenging to move them out of her head. So she just left them there and tried to overcome these “prickers” that grew like weeds on her lifeline.

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Last night’s dream was very pointed and simple. It’s amazing that at first she thought the dirty dinginess was hers. Amazing, yet not surprising, as the wiring of old was tenacious in spite of its fraying ends.

A house. It was a small house on the main street of town; a town that Sara loved and missed now that she’d been away for nearly 20 years. The walls inside the house were clean and white, even the kitchen was all white. The furniture and other accoutrements were sparse, orderly and arranged nicely. There was nothing on the walls. Sara stood in the middle of the main room, feeling enthusiastic about creating life in her new home, a place she’d definitely been before.

 When she began to place her things on the kitchen shelves, she found a cupboard that had not been emptied. “Oh, I guess the old tenant forgot some things,” Sara didn’t give it another thought and began to clear it out into a box to give the landlord.

 “This is strange,” Sara said to herself, her arm immersed up to her shoulder, wading through things in what seemed to be an endlessly deep hole in the wall. “Why can’t I finish? I’ll never have time to make-up my bedroom and unpack my clothes.”

 As she spoke to herself in her dream, she looked up and saw an open window. Walking through an opening in the wall, she went to that window to close it. “I think it’s going to rain, I’d better shut this.” As she slid the window closed, she looked around and found she was in a large open living space with many doorways at all the directionals. The place was a mess with furniture, overflowing boxes of junk and smelly old clothes. The floors were filthy and the table lamps were on.

 As Sara made her way to all the doorways, she switched off a lamp or two and looked into the bedrooms. “What a mess! My God, the tenants have left this place a total wreck and I had no idea it was so huge!” Sara scratched her head, looking around in shock, wondering what she’d gotten herself into and how she was going to clean out all the junk. “What exactly am I going to do with all these extra rooms? I had no idea they were part of the deal.”

 All the windows were open just a crack; all the lights were on–all but those she’d closed or switched off. And as Sara took inventory of this place, she slowly stepped back to get a wider view, realizing this was not her job.

 “Oh,” she said it matter-of-factly, “I don’t have to handle this mess.” She turned the lights back on and reopened the windows.

 In a flash, she was up in the air someplace looking down. For the first time ever, in that moment, she saw the dividing line between her little white home and the other dark shambles. The houses were close together, but they weren’t overlapping; they weren’t even touching. She knew right then what was true.

 None of this was her job to manage in anyway, it never was. From her vantage point on the ground, the line was never clear to Sara. Wherever that command had come from, she always took on the work as if it was her own.

 “Never again,” she said. “Never again. 

When Sara awakened that morning, life was different. As she went on with her day, she found herself deeply saddened, intermittently crying, feeling lonely, lost and unworthy, as if some larger part of her was missing. It felt as though all her connections to life outside herself were suddenly severed.

This is an excerpt from one chapter of a novel.

All rights reserved. Copyrighted 2012 The Energetic Connection

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Faery Singers

Singer of Initiation

Last night I was awakened in the wee hours, most likely by the wee people!

As I lay there trying to find some physical comfort in an otherwise rather twitchy hour, I closed my eyes, looking behind the veils to breathe and practice opening my inner eye.

It’s not a new practice, it’s just that last night something different sort of, well…happened. Sometimes I see a lot of orange, other times it appears to be outlines of people and their faces, and frequently I see the Blue Pearl.

Not so last night. And even though I’ve seen this particular phenomenon before, I’ve never heard the singing that accompanied the visual brilliance. Last night was a first for that.

So many bright little lights, swirling wisps of pink, white and golden light, in all shapes and sizes–moving this way, dancing that way. I looked and looked, and at one point one of the faeries transmitted this to me:

We are the Singers! 

Unity, Ekstasis, Guardian of the Gate

If it hadn’t been so late, no, I mean so early…if it hadn’t been dark and if I’d wanted to come out of that brilliant space, I might have consulted Brian Froud’s, “The Faeries’ Oracle.”  I knew there was a section on the Singers of the Realms.

According to The Faeries’ Oracle, the Singers have many names: angels, devas, gods, dakinis…I can think of a few more too.

Faery Singer of Intuition

“And they sing the song of the underlying universe,” according to their Oracle anyway.

I have to say, this felt so true last night when I was beyond those veils, inside myself, in my inner world. It felt as if they were knitting me together in some way.

But that’s just me, I always feel like I’m being dismantled and taped back together, especially in the wee hours of the night. It’s an inner journey, personal transformation kind of thing; a shamanistic initiation of sorts in which one is shunned, dismembered and near death. Luckily for us, me in this instance, when the Faeries are the root of it, it can be a wondrous, even charming journey. Although when the Challengers are out in force, it’s a very shadowy experience, indeed.

You see, there are five different Faery clans: The Singers, The Sidhe, Faery Guides & Guardians, The Help-Line Troupe and The Faery Challengers. They all have different types of jobs and various vibrations, and depending on what kind of help our Earth and we humans might need will determine what clan makes its way into the land of potentially “seen.”

Yes, I did say potentially. Not everyone sees them, though I’m pretty sure everyone senses them on some level. If you don’t sense them, I think you just don’t know you do, or maybe you’re really dense! I don’t know, you’ll have to reflect on that for yourself.

I’ll bet the Faeries can help you with that!

The Faeries have a lot to say right now, and in this particular time on Earth we had better listen. FYI, I’m sure you can get a more intellectual book about Faery and study a much more intense vein of Faery wisdom, but it might not be as much fun.

G. Hobyah a Faery Challenger

Singers are the angels, the Sidhe are mediators of the singer energies, Faery Guides & Guardians are in direct relationship with we humans and our creative gifts, the Help-Line Troupe are the elementals, and the Faery Challengers help us with our shadow work: bringing it into the light, helping us confront our fears, denials, traumas and bad behaviors.

Pretty important role they play, isn’t it? Yes, actually all of them are critically important to the balance of the Earth and Cosmos and the humans in between.

Get the book. Get it now! It’s been around a while.

Inner Journey: Redwood Dimensions

When manmade noise abates and the whispers of nature become musical expressions in simplicity, the question of dimension arises, only because the line between sleeping and waking is more apparent then.

In contrast, the veils between the worlds are very thin. It must be dusk.

Walking down the trail, time, even seasons, are elusive among the majestic Redwoods and loyal Madrones. Mere minutes separate us from the city drones, yet this walk is like a trip into before when the sounds of horses hooves pounded out the smells of earthen moisture dwelling underneath the dust. In a moment, it can shift the obsession of achievement into accidental vulnerability and soft focus.

With a fast and steady pace, the heart rate quickens, challenging oxygen uptake, ultimately stimulating the endorphins of any hiker, elite or novice.

Try a sauntering pace, take time to look up before the light is stolen by night. Redwood branches and foliage scrape the sky–the view is dizzying–carving out a kaleidoscope of shapes and tones. These old souls somehow influence consciousness.

And the luxury of drawing breath goes mostly unnoticed, yet eventually opens a door allowing fragrance to sachet through the senses. Gentle as the breeze, it flows in and then out again.

Darkness advances.

The aging eucalyptus tree creaks like a rusty hinge on an old farm gate in the gloaming wind, always mysteriously half open. Coyote and bobcat eyes peer out from within the brush on the ridge top as humans depart and the lifeblood of this sanctuary, everything authentic, waits for the footsteps to cease.

Nature’s daily expiration crosses time, cooling the light sheen of warmth and moisture on skin, now thin with sensation. Intrinsic excitement explodes into goose bumps, frosting its surface as this coupling of life’s forces gives birth to enchantment.

Night has come.