Twas Ever Thus for Humanity's Greater Good

I love radio, especially talk radio!  Stories and talks, or information that gets me interacting with it, the mythical radio spirit!  It’s a personal passion and great learning tool.  So a current great gift with my new plug in Prius is its Serius radio.  

A twirl of the radio knob there it is! A whole channel for old radio dramas. Today’s show is from 1948, a short episode with Batman and Robin in a jail cell because of an evil Mr. Jones.   Good old Clark Kent, Superman’s cover, was in the neighbourhood at Planet Radio.  Knowing his friends were in trouble, his station sent out an SOS.

Technology at the helm, they had found a threatening call by the illustrious Mr. Jones, duplicated it and aired it widely.   A $10,000.00 reward was offered for anyone who could identify his voice.  Lo and behold a senior gentleman showed up at Planet Radio.  Before he would talk he wanted to actually hold the money.  Only then, he revealed that he knew it as the voice of a “rabble rouser”, a big mouth who couldn’t tolerate foreigners and was asking for money from anyone for his cause - to stop the bleeding of US funds to poverty stricken Europe.  Chuckling, my mind fast forwarded to a certain Presidential hopeful of dubious character.   “Rabble rousing” they said was always done by selfish narcissists…are those two nouns redundant?  

Personally I am often relieved at the growing number of rabble rousing or awakening voices throughout the US and other countries, hollering about the rabid destruction of our middle class, beloved mother earth and quality of life for many on our planet.

Again I chuckled.  The themes we experience these days are the same.  Streaks of humanity, protecting its status against change.   Batman and Robin were saved in collaboration with Superman, and they all melted the walls round their stardom for humanity’s greater good!

Reaching Out and Up

Here I am, at times thinking about how to reach out, how to make contact, how to tap my own reservoirs of possibility.  It is actually quite amusing when ... Boing! There it is!  

I reach.  I program myself to have the courage to step forward.  So my mind writes and writes.  But til I get the pen in my hand or the computer begins to arrange my streaming words onto my screen, I have a kind of angst.  When I finally get myself going, there is action that simply moves through to the next phase of myself.

I wonder how long I spend proportionately, wallowing around in not knowing.  Amazing!  Too long.

I see in my mind’s eye, that wonderful little dimensional proboscis, the greater visions of my purpose, the trailing aspects of my karma and fears of other people that seem to keep my brakes on, and in front of me I see possibilities.  Sometimes they are vague and unlikely but are brighter.   I present.  I am a speaker.  I am in a relationship in which we truly honour one another’s unique creative flair.  And beyond, I thrill to the tremendous love beyond this dimension, I treasure my job of helping others and creating and outreach as they be come themselves. 

Then my visions drop back down taking their places in my smaller self, my three dimensional purposeful angst keeping bills paid and the IRS and trying to figure out who to trust on every level of society.  This is quite the little pot of chili we live in!

Regarding trust I find in myself a fascination that while I wobble round on what is possible, what is important, and on which focus I hang my thoughts, I see that the trust begins with me.  Can I trust myself to push through, to iron out the doubt wrinkles that inspire my greater integrity?  Can I find that place inside in which I can count on the real me – the me with my purpose? 

That is the place that takes me into my grandest fulfillment. 

The Flows of Consciousness Through Our Species

Colleen Mauro, formerly creator/publisher of Intuition Magazine, now has a book, entitled Spiritual Telepathy.  I am delighted at how she surfs the evolution of humanity, or really our consciousness, from our inception aeons ago.  For many years she researched ancient and modern spiritual texts – pre phone texts! - she traces our rise.  We started out etheric.  Then began the long process of we experiencing our slow unfoldment from primitive beings, and through thousands more years of refining and defining our inner selves and our appearance.  It’s been a bit like cutting and pasting the strengths or at times choosing the weaknesses of the various cultures in which we find ourselves..

Wandering  through the various stances of Christianity, Upanishads, Chinese texts, Egyptian, the Koran, the Bible and so many more, my head swims, reeling under the influences of ancient & modern challenges, from running for our lives to creating civilizations.  Are they civilizations?  How to eat, how to construct homes, agriculture, hunting for food or mates always changing style,  our minds  flitting from floor after floor of a high rise-like assembly of our cellular memories.

We change.  We grow.  We morph. We merge.  We ferment more change in bubbling reality.

We are vibrational beings first and foremost.  

Colleen’s work reveals how awakenings spiral up through our chakra system, whirling morsels of wisdom from their continuums -  aspects of your multi faceted being.   Each chakra has a full spectrum of expression.  Maybe like survival and evolution.  Learning to walk.  Learning to grow legs when we can’t just swim any more.  That hundredth monkey always employed as we integrate new frequencies which means new awakening and creative possibilities pushing the monkey in us all to share newer potentials.

Launched through aeons, today we see man, still warring but often with technical aids more powerful than our comprehension of earthy dynamics.  The white strings of I Phone ear phones hang from many round the world like an innate part of our assembly, tuning us – to what?   More information?  Is it useful information?  Or is it corralling us for security, security that can well be outmoded.   It is amazing how much technology we adapt to instead of adapting to one another.  Instead we kill each other, the trees and the earth’s surface, attacking nature on the ground or under the sea, or above, in the atmosphere. 

Good news!   Consciousness is birthing.  Vibrating upwardly through us all creating a sort of inner striving for peace and evolution that we can all share.  Even those who fight it for stability, security, a frozen status quo will awaken and flow with it beyond the old definitions of security.  It can happen soon.

Let’s raise our fields and frequencies and celebrate new and evolutionary flows of consciousness.

 To round out this experience here is my talk with Colleen.  Lie down and listen.  There is a 5 minute meditation part way through and it’s great!

To hear more of my conversation with Colleen, click here: http://veronicaentwistle.com/2016/07/06/paradigm-shifters-brings-you-spiritual-telepathy-with-colleen-mauro/

Metaphor: To Be a Climber

As I climb the stairs, the long staircases that flaunt the hilly topography of Echo Park, I suck in my tummy, in breath in, out breath, a grand bellows.  I am doing my walking meditation drawing light in with all its electricity through my spinal cord til it buzzes. 

I have been doing this for two weeks and already I am not puffing and panting when I reach the top.  When  my knees start to whine, I ask them what fears they are holding, and are they frustrated with my direction?  Their pains or what are really signs of discomfort lighten up, usually about a third of the way up the stairs.   My breath deepens into my belly and a kind of a peace takes me over. 

Up my spine, then down again.  On the up/in breath I see it.  It is like these stairs, an ascending journey of taking charge of my evolution, releasing old reactions, softening my tensions, letting ancient patterns of this life and lineage fade.  It is better than psychotherapy as it scours the deepest charges from old reactions. I can access now.  The out breath refreshes and off we go again, lifting consciousness. 

I feel closer to my true nature.  

Just Love Each Other

Looking back at my “relationship ladder” I am grateful I have grown through my expectations, or my clutching at relationship to keep my self esteem tidied under a “belonging” or “identity” label.  My Guides often say when we look back at old relationships, just love one another.  I mean we did experience love.  Does it have to go away entirely in the face of disappointment?

The rocky road of clients separating or divorcing one another, hurts as they squabble over children or material safety, some men still often getting the higher share of spoils while women boldly leave just wanting to get free.  So many women plunge into the economic despair of low-end jobs or any jobs they can find – relieved to be able to support their children even though it is hard.  I have known many to say that they just wanted to be free.  But in our world freedom still needs money.  And the children sometimes are bounced between accusations and vengeances. 

We haven't reached the evolution of a matriarchal society with the focus on raising our children as  humanity’s future.  Yet we start out in love, then getting married or having children, putting our partners in a revered position in the basic structure of our lives.

I wonder what would happen if we did honour them?  Even if they are broken and leaving is the only way to become whole.  What would happen if we looked at them and revered who they are in essence?  I wonder.   I mean, instead of trashing one another in the heart of our pain.  Most of the pain comes because we have the illusion of the picket fence, the safe haven, the forever love. Sometimes it is because we can’t unfold or become more of our true nature in the forever-after context.  The controls and competitions are too great.  Or in some cases, whether from the abuses or even the empathy, couples can be locked in limitations.  You have to leave to grow.

 

But what would happen if in the process of sorting through our pains we just loved one another?  Would it help our children grow into self reflecting people with compassion and understanding for others?  Would it help us find peace on the planet?  

She Just needs A Little Help

She just needs a little help.  She has made some mistakes.  Like calling the Physical Therapist and leaving 5 frantic messages on her phone to please NOT tell her doctor that she wet her pants that afternoon in the office bathroom.  The more nervous she became, the worse her jitters and rather skitterish speech got.  The pitch of her voice rose. 

”Just don’t tell the doctor I wet my pants!”  Her shrill demand on the 4^th call was urgent.  Unwittingly, she emphasized the possibility that her panic could render her incapable.

But it isn’t so.  The aging intuitive woman, highly successful in her past 60 years has always suffered from acute sensitivity.  Her perspicacity turned it into her service, her wisdom, her ability to help so many people extract the gold of their souls.  It’s an amazing ability to look into people, find out what blocks them, and energetically move that block.  Over and over she has given people an opportunity to become the next level of themselves, or even better, a more complete version of themselves.   Relieved from the old reactions recorded deeply within and wanting to become a permanent part of their soul, she proved over and over that they didn’t need to stay stuck.

I muse at how many of us find our gifts at the other end of the issues challenging our souls.  My brilliant friend was jittery and why?

For a few years medical people have been rather authoritarian with her, a terrifying aspect of her entire 82 years.   Now she isn’t “easy” with them.  She wants clarity and knows things they don’t know.  So she can argue.  But their dominance strips her from her dignity.  They can reject her.  “Medicare doesn’t pay!”  So many are being threatened and being dropped from the patient list.  They have to behave.  And in her case, the concept is she will have to go to a senior’s residence.  She doesn’t want that.  She wants to work, run her home, rent out her extra room, take supplements, and devote time to her art. 

The worst part of it all is that she is scared of the medical establishment and wants to be honoured, respected and heard.  The issue in this episode was that her Physical Therapist who took her urgent beseeching calls “please don’t tell my doctor I have incontinence sometimes!” and turned around and did just that. She told the doctor.  The PT suggested that she was becoming demented.

I hurt for my friend corralled and threatened, looking for support as her body and mind become more and more frail.  Surely it can be kinder.

My Relationship Ladder

I want to know what love is.  The song rings through my mind regularly.    I have looked hard both inside and out of myself and voila! From the view of my spiritual journey I have lived quite a relationship ladder.  Maybe I had too many starts and no real marriage, or no permanent bonding of love.  It’s all about me.  The only common factor!  In retrospect I see that I have stepped rung by rung up a kind of spiraling ladder to the incredible expansiveness of love.  “I want to know what love is.”  So crooneth the song.  “And I want you to show me.”  But it doesn’t work that way does it?  I wanted so much to feel love and be wanted and persued.  But I learned that I had to give the love steadily and graciously.  And I was.  But that isn’t enough is it?

I was pretty enough but different, always juggling a deep inner angst about who I was.  Unable to love myself  I couldn’t accept people in ways that would honour their broad variations on the planet and see through their defenses and quirks. Or lay loving foundations. 

My hormonal yearning for love pulled in my first boyfriend when I was 15.  We were in 11^th grade.  His  pomped James Dean hair do boosted his height to 6’1”.  He shone in the glittery vest fashion of 1958.  His Brillcream, later called “greasy kids stuff”  kept his wave high, while sideburns fuzzed up his cheekbones.  My horrified parents stood at the window as he revved his engine and we rolled out of the driveway.     Of course I fell in love with my free floating hero.  In his arms I dreamed wildly – hormones sending out waves of ecstacy and a wildly soothing illusion of completion!  Later my illusion was smashed  into tiny sharp pieces by his betrayal.   “Happily ever after” had to morph into something bigger.   But I had opened to the bottom rung of love.  

Serendipitous events around a miscarriage, a betrayal, and love tilted on its axis of commitment.  I reeled but only for a moment as my foot tenuously stepped on the next rung of my ladder.  A brilliant physicist, driving an ice cream truck for the summer, reached for my hand and pulled my love up to the tune of his wanderlust.  With our back packs filled to the brim with everything we needed or could trade for a good year of travel, we hitchhiked through Europe and Africa, while reality chipped away at our bravado. Together we became humbler and more awake to the moment.  A new kind of love bloomed as we shared our resources, and trusted one another to create solutions to our needs mile after mile.  The owl and the pussycat in the pea green boat.   We were confident in our love when we returned home to marry.

Like a mandolin, our love was tuned and returned.  He followed his dreams to change the world.  I, unclear of my own purpose, in the shadow of his charisma, often retracted my love in self doubt.  Unconditional love is the real meditation.  The love I felt was an infusion, like having a cork popped inside of myself.  But I couldn’t keep it in its effervescent state. The lists of my self doubts grew like weeds among my homemaking duties and resentfully I questioned again, what is love?

He mused that he would die young.  And indeed he did.  I became untethered, found myself scrambling for pieces of myself under our fractured foundations.   My love, I recognized was often attached to the dream that would design who I was and that I was now safe.  The scaffolds we had dreamed up, were sitting on deep hurt that needed to be excavated.  After his passing I took a 6 year turnabout which was often grueling.  I had to figure out who I was and how I work.  My earliest memories as a small person rose.  I had known where I had been before this life. In those memories I felt a strong, bathing, flow.   I looked for it.  I searched.  Who is in there, who is love?  Is it a who?  Is it a Who?  Horton hears a who.  Where is Horton now that we need him?  I didn’t meet a floppy eared pink elephant but I did enjoy some of me – my perspicacity, curiosity, quick humour, and deepening compassion for people and how intricately we all work.

That rich descent into who I am, took me on a wild tour through which foods suit me, past life regressions, energy work of all kinds, massage.  For a few years I was obsessed,  who am I?  who am I?  It was an expedition that often propelled me out of a harmonious friendship or two, as our shared dreams no longer fit.  Always there were a few friends who stood by me, fascinated, but wary.  Slowly I began to understand the love I have for me and how my own defenses, shame and fears had sheltered it from me.   In time self-love peeked through the curtains of my identities.  The next rung was a huge step up!

I drew up a list - one of my most famous lists - to follow to improve myself, that I could be more loving in relationships. A wise friend of mine was merciless.   “You and your list” He guffawed. “Just get into a relationship.  That’s where you’ll know yourself.”  Zing!  His words vibrated through me!  And I drafted up a series of affirmations calling forth a new partner and a few other things in my life.  23 affirmations in fact on tape which I ran behind everything I did.   Within 2 days I found myself talking to several different men.   I chose one I thought was most enticing.  Soon, smitten, I was off and running for the travelling romance of Israel.  My  love was even more humbled and yet courageous now. I made that huge step to the next rung.  Definitely I loved him quickly but there were more questions.  What is love?    He and I helped each other out of our rickety boats of defenses as first.  We were so loving as we shared our learning and served each other.   I was in fear of being at home.   My love of self, already scanty but emerging, chilled in an aura of his own limitations on love.  Interesting huh?  I was learning that unless I could radiate love to him unconditionally, we couldn’t share it.  I kept finding limitations.  Some feelings of 'no, it shouldn’t be like this'.  Yet it was.  What should I do?  Wrangling with his negativity and depressions I decided I had to move on.

But then – surprise surprise -   Big surprise – I was pregnant.  I had been affirming “a child if it is appropriate”.  Here she was, this baby,  a true test of love.  I couldn’t bear to be without her.  This new love was a pull, a warm glue of sorts, whose essence lifted my being to believing in much greater than the physical dimensions.  I could love this child unequivocally and without boundaries…as long as I could do my daily chaotic dance meditation, that got me in the rhythms of my far too active brain, and kept me aware of loving.  It was a new rung.

I had to leave her dad.  My empathy sucked in his depression so while I wanted to evolve and set myself free from my childhood traumas, I was numbed, stuck in an etheric sand.  I had to leave.  His personal pain and resistance to change were like a weight in me.  I had to pull myself away and begin a process of unraveling the reactive fabric I had become or absorbed.  It is so hard to know whether it is the chicken or the egg.  I packed up my four year old and off we went to a small town where I could start again and raise this love away from the madding crowds.  We were in Sequim.

There I was set up quickly for another rung at love. This time I became involved with a highly unusual mate for me, a top realtor.  I seemed  hippyish for him.  To me I was proud to be an activist - not a hippie!  But he was so commercial for me.  What we  did share was a deep commitment to our spiritual growth.  More than that we simply couldn’t stay away from one another.  I can still feel our magnetic love.  Yet I was told by my Guides over and over “Do not marry this man.”  And I “knew” it would be wrong though he loved my daughter and me.   

So here is the unbelievable strong message that insured that we wouldn’t stay together!  Right from the first days of the five years of our relationship…visions of another man…a “see through” blonde man, creative, metaphysical, working his way through another relationship, was in our lives.  He sat with us in the car, in the kitchen in the living room…fortunately not in the bedroom.  But it was unnerving.  I thought he was a herald (Oh hark! is that you Herald?) that meant we were to be together and that is why I shouldn’t marry my realtor lover. 

We talked about it honestly.  We saw a counselor about it.    We planned the end of our relationship to be a conscious parting.  We met and meditated daily for a month at 7 AM.  In our meditations his head kept turning into the head of a demon, horns and all.  I thought it meant I was being negative or needed to poop.   That often darkens one’s visions.  He was a good guy.  We were going to be friends forever.  I just “knew” it.  My  “knowing” was totally wrong.

Then the invisible prince charming arrived by phone, the love was palpable.  Too early to know you might say, but I had felt involved with him for five years so that seemed alright.  I loved him already.  Three months later by his physical presence.  The realtor and I worked hard on being friends but in frustration we turned to past life information.   It turns out that the three of us had had past lives in which we had taken turns betraying one another.   So they hated each other and the rage that both of them felt at me, was palpable and never ending.  All our spiritual work seemed to yank  on our invisible chains. 

For me, when the realtor stormed away never to speak to me again…until he passed that is and our visits across the veil resolved the  unspoken…..and when I sent away the etheric suitor in his flurries of rage and strange misunderstandings,  I was reeling at my illusions, deeply lost and hurt.  What is love?   My beautiful daughter was heartbroken longing for home and family and a steady supportive love.  Inside I knew a gap between the love I thought I felt and the attachments that seemed to vitalize it or their distortions.  Remember chutes and ladders?  I had slid down the 99^th chute, stumbling round the bottom of the game board. 

I wanted to know what love is.

The tiny town with so many reminders and people who knew us and made decisions about us and the external realities of my relationship break ups prickled in their karmic nest.   My search for love had deceived me, the intuitive.  I needed to grow or clear out my old programs unhook attachments and yearnings for a real love…self and others.   Like a Geiger counter I drove til I found an electrical frequency in the land that would boost the transformations of old reactions in my vibrational body.

It was Tucson, AZ where we re established ourselves.  I capped my search for love “out there” stung deeply by my own illusions and the trickery of seeing visions through the lense of desire.   It can often skew our readings. 

Tucson was a learning curve.  No lovers.  No men.  Lots of new friends and fellow healers but no romance.  I couldn’t trust my own love to be clear headed.  Nor could I trust that I wouldn’t hurt my daughter further.  I was learning the dance between attachment and desire.  A lot of us in the healing fields have to wander through the weeds of our soul’s history, choosing and releasing choosing and releasing from the magnetic attraction for intimacy. 

My daughter became as a teenager, enraged at me, at our life together, and I had to send her to her dad.  I couldn’t bear it, but I couldn’t bear to lose her entirely to drugs.  I love her so much but didn’t like her during that time and my emerging love capacity  was daunted.  I did know by then that I loved a lot and deeply, but it just didn’t seem to work for me.  Back to the drawing board.  I moved myself to the Bay Area to be near my step daughter. 

At a workshop for sacred geometrics, I met a wizard.  Sacred Geometrics and Metaphysics we had a soul and spirit in common.  My Guides said we were soul allies.  Not soul mates.  We were meant to push each other out of our personality forming subconscious programs. To help one another develop more wholeness.  Our relationship unfolded and together we pulled apart limitations on our selves, drank fresh veggie juices, explored universes with my Guides and his long term studies with Lazarus and the levels of blocks on our love whether from past lives or this life.  I worked hard to be home and family with him, and to evolve my own service into the world.  Our love grew through our sharing, step by step support of one another as gingerly we pointed proverbial toes where he could finish creating original sound replications, and me, my business of readings, and radio.  The Guides implied that this was all temporary, which we didn’t quite believe.  It just seemed such a deep and safe knowing.

Then devastating financial circumstances melted down our home, and we were tipped into the basement to unhook our lifestyle and rebalance our lives.  The love that I always feel in my work and meditations grew. The love he and I shared pulled itself into safety, wrapped in a kind of tourniquet. I couldn’t hold our lives together.  I had to do my dharma, my work in the world.    Chilled to the bone in fear and loss, I had to work hard to focus on my own work and radiate at a higher level.  I headed out from the damp gentle northwest to the rich bubbling droughted LA to be near my step daughter and start again, all over again, at 71.   She and I have often shared a rung of love as we go through changes.

I chuckle.  I often say “I am always at the beginning.”  It keeps my ego at bay while truly opening me to listening to wisdom from people and guidance.   And the love I seek still grows.  My wizard and I have accepted our physical distances along with our huge losses in a shared stream of love that always expands.   The attachment part of our love has moved on.  Now it is a flowing glue of support, we have each other’s’ back,  that each of us uses separately and as soul allies, together. 

Love is growing in me, at times staggering under the revelations of deception in which we live politically and economically, but finding a deepening connection with all that is, the gifts of the many illusions that guide me and others into  our soul’s work. 

Now I pray for another mating opportunity to activate new levels of true love.  I surrender as I feel the updrafts of the etheric ladder to LOVE. 

That Great Word...LOVE

LOVE – that great word!   I love peanut butter.  I love Moonbeams especially when I can truly feel them.  I love warm wind in my hair, adventures, words, great clothes, fine Limoges China, truth, possibility, my inner trekking…so much more.  I might even love you!

I love my family, treasure my daughter, my stepdaughter, my Grandest one, my son in law….  There are times when that very love feels dangerous, like a tug of war between giving and reluctance or caution.  If my feelings flair, to share my emerging love it takes  courage –  from the French word for heart, Coeur.  Maybe it’ll be judged as mushy or unrequiteable.  Too much.  Inappropriate.  Or it launches an edgy trial balloon barter. Two hugs for one kiss?   Or sometimes love simply retreats in a clash.  Then it needs forgiveness. 

Rejecting love can be a knee jerk response.  To me, it seems that fine impervious membranes surround our feelings in kind of packets.  The love I express can bounce right off the membrane that holds a packet of reactions.   Or off some kind of see-through layer like space metal.  My rolling wave of love clangs!  Then retracts itself. 

My own love learned to hide behind a cold hardness at times.  I was carefully shut down in defense.  I was shocked when I recognized my coldness.   I wanted to melt it down, so I could radiate my love like some of the people whose radiant love I cherish.  For a time I writhed in my coolness standing like a sentinel, observing from my cocoon of gracious sounds.  I have met myself coming!  And now I can work to soothe it. Thank Heaven for life with its myriad of unexpected Bunsen burners like when suddenly you meet your old friend, or a new beloved, heal an old rift, or a brand new baby cooing a delight to see me, or even receive an adult compliment or two or an award for your book!

The song, I want to know what love is, flows through my head at least once a day.  Many decades of life’s stew, lumpy morsels of grief and gain even beyond peanut butter! boil up all kinds of flavours from my legend.  That questing song tears at the membranes round old reactions of all kinds, liberating them to let them warm that chill in my heart.  Love becomes easier and easier. 

As I scan my history, in this life, I am fascinated.   My full spectrum legend fills with people from many environments, in many many emotional settings for friends, lovers, family, saints/gurus.  There are some people who light up many moments on my long path.  Some of those surprise me.   Even through difficulties, fracases or betrayals, somehow the love still emerges as I grow or we both grow.  Our souls know enough to keep turning up the light.  Courageously I can now offer this new love as it grows through me, so we all receive love. 

 

I am writing this piece for a dear sister in law.  Even after I divorced her brother, she has always kept me in the family, treated me warmly and lovingly.  I am so grateful for her faith in me and her steady love.  “Family is family” she said “and we are soul sisters.”  Now and again on the phone we swap rich tales of family, children, marriage, grandchildren, life and death, healing, dreams, and the forgivenesses which come as we grow through our various stages of being.  Spiralling across the ocean, our inner selves churn an elixir of healing, love.   So to Dot, and to several others of you “out there” I say thank you so much for being lights…even LEDs… in my legend.  May we continue to spread the wealth of our love.

Happy Birthday Soul Sister, matriarch of a grand family.  Thank you for keeping me in your loop, and for sharing your love that I might grow mine.

Aging

There is a popular illusion that as we age we become more peaceful.  It is partially true but here  I am,  hustling to market myself. My first book, My Near Life Experience, birthed many inner and outer dynamics of my life, the life of a rebel or an adventuress.    Slowly slowly I mine today’s marketing mysteries.  I have to learn to set the story of my life in the high speed winds of social networking.

I muse:  To market to market to buy a fat pig. (Is that why all the marketing?  To buy the fat pig?) Home again home again riggity jig. 

That familiar old verse matches the rhythm of my life’s dance.  I leap forward, then hold back.  Sometimes I am bold, but then I get all shy, or so inward I’m paralyzed.  I take huge risks that alternate with extreme caution.   Or I flow from feisty into numb. It gets hard to figure out when the dance gets mature.  Fantasies about the fat pig fade.  Greater demands move through me.  Like creative expression, or the soothing voices of my soul and spirit, love and evolution amongst friends and family, and clients.  That’s where the peace comes in.  They make the product.  Like my beloved courageous clients,  they measure their lives against their higher purpose.  Way beyond the markets’ fat pig.  I get to help them empower their search for Who AM I?

And my own.  Love provides the wind under my wings.  The gifts of friendship and love relationships spiral through my life like smoke from a campfire. My eyes water.   What have I learned? 

I appreciate family of origin and lineage.  Tide pools of karmic and emotional trysts weave us together into ourselves in this lifetime. Sometimes, writhing to be ourselves, sometimes wanting to express a deepening sense of our true nature,  the family fabric tears.  But other times the wine corks pop, we sing, share, and eat glad to be together. I love my family so much.  For all the distances our personalities create there is no one as deeply connected for good or ill!  As some are now on what is lovingly called “the other side” I get to see at times, their releasing themselves from karma or trysts or help myself and parents out of their clutches.

Then husband reviews.   Through our adventures into one another, I see how morsels of myself refined and defined themselves through these men, as we lurched through our shared homes to the endings of our years together.  As dreams burst and expectations lose their luster, and even as the people themselves die, we deepen in a rich stew with grief.  My personal truth shakes off its torpor.  At times I can drift into the dream-scapes that lead to my marriages.   Such adventures!  Like Mark and I.  As the years traveled through us, we learned and grew, grappled with ideals as community development workers, or sixties radicals.  We always wanted to change the world.  The sixties fervor ended in a number of historical deaths, and in my world so did my marriage.   What did it all mean, and where was the love embedded in the drama?  An immature love I am sure.    He sought a heart based truth during his dying months, as I seek it now many years later. 

We are moving through a time as extreme as the 60’s were, observing the corruption and enslavement of populations to voracious greed. Nothing new but picking up fervor these days as the election primaries feature crazy antics and The Book of Revelation is ripe with the evidence of the deceit and egregious domination of people by those with money and power.  People just don’t know how enslaved we are.   Some of us are wanting to step forward again, in synch with the eyes and the hearts of young ones… with the drive to end war, enlighten masses, share our shrinking world?  The drive and the energy comes from deep within, or deepening within.

What is the love?  Where is it?  How does it ripen?  I ask myself some more questions.    Am I learning enough?  Am I contributing?  And is the only possible contribution, I mean with any true value, the support we give to a world to refine and define our soul’s existence.

But in aging, I get to ask a lot more questions of myself.  What has it all lead to?  To help one another become more and more fulfilled? 

I just want to go to God in great clothes….shining.    

SOCIAL NETWORKING

Oh My God!    OK you millenials and those in between me and you!  I am trying to get with the program here in my own little “post office”.   It’s a non stop feast of bits and bites.   Apparently my book will never sell if I don’t master these pithy and emotional thumbnails.   My tweets are too complicated.  My writing too….what would you call it?....deep.  Life taught people in my vintage to not boast about themselves and their accomplishments.  The world is supposed to do that for you IF your accomplishments are anything much. 

Now it’s different! I realize I have to toot my own horn loudly, get followers, shred any facades of elegance I have used to enshroud myself.   My Near Life Experience: Or How Do I Know When I AM Really Me?  tells dramatic tales of my life each tale helping me explore the truth of who I am. It is a long story and alternately lost and found, tragic and funny, and always coming to new levels of myself.  Just like any of our lives, it is “all about me”.  So many readers send me compliments saying that it is all about them as well, with that journey we share, rooted in the inner self and becoming a part of the outer self. 

Back to social networking, now I am going to learn the art of popping pithy little “memes” whatever they are, and “tweets” or illuminating “instagrams” out there and find out how they weave attention to some of the themes of my book!

A Little Morning Magic

On my morning walk sometimes round Echo Park Lake en route to the coffee shops, or afterwards to Lassens, a kind of Whole Foods store where I order my fresh organic green drink, I see an older man.  He has a businessman look, white hair, looks focused , well dressed.  He too walks each morning.  We see one another often so nod hello.  He is like an extra in my movie.  For a few days I didn’t see him at all.  Then I did.  To my right on a sidewalk a little above the one that tightly rings the tiny lake, there he was, carrying his coffee.  We nodded at one another and kept walking.

Minutes later to my left and half way round the lake, there he was again!   Wait a minute!  That is impossible!  Holding his Styrofoam coffee cup, sitting and looking away from me.  I waggled my head and blinked my eyes to straighten out my visions.   He was definitely over there the other side of the lake.  He turned his head, looked at me and nodded.  He stood up and started walking in the other direction and I carried on.  But I saw him.  I saw him in both places!  

The Style of our Birth is How We Make Our Transitions

Taken from my book, My Near Life Experience, the forward.

Here is a fun concept. Often, it is said that the style of our birth is how we make our transitions, big and small, in life. My birth challenged my young mum.I hung around in her womb hinting     that I was almost ready to be born, but I just wouldn’t let go.

Finally, Mum, starving, ate a hearty dinner therein
Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Vancouver. And in minutes,I popped out. “You made me vomit my dinner!”she would storm when I would be running through the kitchen underfoot, moving way too quickly for her to catch.

Always the disrupter when truth remained unspoken and silences weighted the atmosphere—that was me. With sudden and dramatic changes consistent throughout my life,I continued to birth more and more new phases of self. Wandering. Wondering.Vague. Just wouldn’t let go. Then finally, sudden changes express themselves — changes that might startle my friends,but changes birthed from as low crock pot or a kind of womb in the nether reaches of my mind.

Taken from my book, My Near Life Experience, the forward.

I always wanted to write.  I couldn’t.  There was a banging in my head as if there was a wall or a membrane around my desire.  I couldn’t break through it.  and I just knew I couldn’t be a writer.  That was for other people.  I just seemed to daze over, stand back and observe through the haze of that daze, that there were things I wanted to do.  But they seemed to be for other people. My zest for experience  was on the back burner as I vacillated between being kind of depressed and dull, passive and weepy, or acting out, taking over a room, being entertaining, dancing, singing.  I had lots of friends til my 30’s when life’s various machetes and some of my trance was hacked away by experiences like loss, followed by  boomerangs of rage, mistrust, fear, but they were vital feelings.  They were my feelings. All of  them sent me back into my haze purposefully to parse it for something.  But for what?  Wisdom?  Possibiiliy?   Actually, for me, the real me.  A me that now loves to write, writes for release not for that challenging back board in my head, and writes to weave self with inner peace or to relinquish the urgencies of how and who to become. You know the externally designed ones.

A me that discovered a metaphorical or energetic membrane -like series of containers that defined me and many others as I banged into them, my limitations of self expression.  It seemed that there was no way out  There is.  We just need to break out. 

I am so grateful for the – as I call them – machetes of life’s experiences.  The disappointments, frustrations, failures, losses of people I loved, reforming what love truly is, and other gifts I discovered in my own tool box of potentials for creativity that were slumming inside my trances.

Seek & Ye Shall Find

I knew I needed a filmmaker, some peace, some water.  Down the hills of Echo Park, meditating as I walked, I felt the pieces of my new life, changes strewn throughout my schedule, jostling one another like puzzle pieces to assemble a plan.  The tiny lake sparkled in the sunlight, peddle boats calling me.   Time on the water.  I signed up. 

I  promised not to be rowdy, to jump around in the flat bottomed boat.   “Buckle your life jacket.”   I climbed into my boat an off I peddled. “Have a peaceful trip”  he called.   Hmmmm, I thought.  “Unusual and kind fellow.”  As I peddled on I heard music, turned  and looked back.  There he was on the dock playing his accordion!   For me I thought.   As we docked we chatted.   “What brings you to LA?”  “I’d like to explore doing television.”  He responded “My friend came to shoot a documentary and I hope to work with him.”   “Maybe he would work for me a bit.” I said thinking Youtube.  

“He’s pretty busy  but I would.”   “My work is spiritual” I said giving him the option to turn away.  “Oh I follow Alan watts, Eckardt Tolle, Abraham and other ones.”  He noted some of the greats.  Maybe we could do some perkier ones!

And so we are.  Mostly refining our skills.  He in his mid 30’s.  Me in my 70’s.  The parfait of our personal journeys birthing ideas and youtubes.  And it is fun. 

I love how much life contributes - magically and with humour – IF I let myself welcome its offerings.

The First Steps to Clearing Negative Energy in your Body

Snippets of Life

I look over the balcony on a hill in Echo Park.   The view from my air bnb is brocaded with homes, large and small, old and new, cascading down the hillsides, sporadically shaded by trees.  On a distant hill there sits famous Hollywood sign.   Fascinating sentinel.  In the early mornings I walk down the mile-ish hill to a coffee shop or maybe down one of the long long staircases, computer bag over my shoulder, to take my place at a tiny table, one of the many that are filled with writers of books, movie scripts, fantasies, studies, jasmine tea in little pots steaming beside me.  I choose between several different coffee places within walking distance.

As I walk I meditate, usually with a chant inside myself, breathe deeply.  The day bursts into my writing fever, little stories, plans for radio or television, now that my first book is done and how to get that “out there”.  The embryo of my second book grows. 

Oddly I have always found writing was hard for me.  It pushed at my head and my heart but often felt like it was stuck inside a locked box somewhere.  In past lives I am told,  I was killed for my unusual ideas.  This life I am aware that as if having membranes round my will, my words, my desires, I have had to break open before I could flow.  It’s a lot like learning to channel.  And it became easiest in a neutral place, a coffee shop or deck where I can cogitate and not be distressed by the domestic duties that call me.  I write now when it is flowing, in a state of Being the writing for the hour or so before I return to do my treasured work.  

A few months ago I finished my first book that way.  Wherever I had little periods of time between work, writing in restaurants in Bellingham, Costa Rica, Vancouver, Portland – wherever my travels have taken me at the time.   I treasure my morning escapades.  I treasure the respect of the creative spirit nurtured by the communities in these little cafes!

How to Release Stored Negative Energy In Our Bodies

My Near Life Experience has been released!

 Read an excerpt of my new book, My Near Life Experience by clicking on the bookcover. 

Empathy

Today I wander through musing my way through my connections by phone, with their strings of intelligence, whether they are from this life, this experience, or other lives and other experiences, strings with tiny wee electronic velcro connections, I muse.   We are so woven together in this fabric of happenings and reactions.  People I talked to today are warriors, truly bonded in love and kindness, charged up to seek higher Guidance, for routes out of complex empathetic attachments and patterns they probably inherited or have from old experiences so they can deepen into their true natures, and use their gifts for our world.   A kind of politics. 

One delightful and courageous young woman I spoke with today was realigning herself to the fullness of life in the US, after a 3 month stint in extreme poverty in an African country. She revealed a wisdom and depth beyond her years discussing how our lives can be tricked by empathy with the ambiance  situations.  How deeply impoverished and impossible she felt whilst living in the small community, yet she comes from a financially solid life here in the US.   There no one had much of anything, especially aspiration and hope.   Relentlessly expecting nothing but just living through each day.  Rarely do the people in the village live long.  At times she identified deeply and felt frozen with the trap in which they find themselves.   She returned.

I was heartened as my young friend’s inner light kept rising and rising, til possibilities for those people soared through her.   I could “see” that the education she had received through the mind numbing experience, had touched her soul’s gifts and somehow, her experiences inside and out, as if rich with the yeast of intention, would urge her to rise, even enthusiastic, to tackle huge environmental issues, in our own country and for the world. 

Empathy is so amazing and can, like in her case, activate one another to lift, to reach, to aspire. 

Hear a little excerpt from my new book, My Near Life Experience

My Near Life Experience: How Do I Know When I Am Really Me can be purchased on Amazon.com by clicking HERE

Join me for a beautiful retreat to Costa Rica / Feb 6-12

More info on this wonderful retreat can be found HERE

An In Studio Interview with Veronica Entwistle

Hey baby boomers – have you fallen victim to “feeling-old” disease? Are you gazing at your own wrinkling reflection in the mirror wondering, who that person is?   Where has the time gone? Have you become grouchier and grumpier over the years?  Worse, are you feeling like life has passed you by or that you’re done?

If any of this sounds like you, you’re not alone.  A huge portion of our population has similar symptoms, and lucky for you, your life is of abundant value on this planet Its seemingly hidden gifts cannot be found elsewhere because they are inside of YOU.   It doesn’t cost thousands of dollars or the cutting and pasting of invasive cosmetic procedures o invigorate yourself, to honor the wisdom that you are. It’s already yours right NOW.

At 72 years young, life coach & wellness expert Veronica Entwistle, author of the newly released book “My Near-Life Experience,” shares four proven steps to transforming your baby boomer behind into a younger, youthful and energetic you.

“Instead of the standard ‘lose 20 lbs’ New Year’s resolutions, do something different this year,” says Entwistle. “By changing your focus from improving your exterior to confronting the root problem and working on improving the inner you you will exponentially increase your momentum toward your goal. It’s amazing how many exterior problems can be reduced or simply just when you work with the stuff real consciousness is made of.”

Step 1: Drop the “I’m Too Old” loop

·         Thoughts are things. They cast energy. Why do you think its called spell-ing? If you keep thinking it and saying it, then it becomes reality.

·         Don’t blunt your identity.  It took you a long time to get to where you are. You are here and here is where you are!  There is power in your emerging and ripening wisdom. Honor your path to this moment.  Hey, if you hadn’t done all you did, you wouldn’t be here as you now. Get it?

Step 2: There’s no such thing as “It’s Too Late”

·         It’s never too late for nothing! Where is this limiting conversation coming from? Quiet that voice and get on with your bucket list!

·         If you haven’t created one yet, fill that pail with ideas NOW!

·         If you did create your bucket list, did you create it with your purpose, not someone else’s idea of your purpose, in mind?

·         It’s not all about jumping out of airplanes and eating strange foods in odd lands. Did you include wisdom on it?  Did you include the unfoldment of your identity?

Step 3: Feel the Fear & Do It Anyway

·         Fear stands for false evidence appearing real.  FALSE EVIDENCE. Fear is the number one factor standing in the way of fulfilling your life’s purpose, and it’s not even real!

·         Your body is a library filled with reactions.  Track some of those fears, or beliefs to earlier life experiences.  Find out where they are stored in your cells.  Lift or coax them out and look at them. Are they real?

·         Watch your body begin to renew its agility a little at a time. 

·         Think back to your childhood and how you dared yourself to explore activities like riding a bike, jogging, hiking, vacationing, dancing, etc.  Even if the activities are less vigorous now you can experience the exhilaration and drive to deepen into you, your courage, your wisdom, and your understanding.

Step 4: Learn to Love Yourself

·         It’s in our human nature to assess our lives severely.  Even great gurus experience much of life through trial and error.  Slipping into reaction and defense helps no one, yet everyone does it.  What have you learned from your reactiveness?  What have you learned about your goals? 

·         Track some of your successes with being kind, forgiving, loving, and receiving.

·         Many individuals, both young and old, have a hard time achieving this step, but it’s never too late to begin working on this level of self-care and acceptance. 

·         Focus on all of your positive attributes and manifest them into a greatness you literally beam into every place you show up as you.

·         The more you learn to love yourself, the more the world around you will reflect that love.