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Saturday, 31 October 2015

Perspective Depends on Where You Stand

Perspective Depends on Where You Stand

by Lorna Tedder · in SacredSpaces
Hi dear friends and followers. Thank you very much for visiting and reading my blog, I very much appreciated it. Today's topic is about perspectives, we all have perspective and all are unique unto ourselves.

Perspective. It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it? You think you know what you’re looking at. You see it every day. Some thing. Or some one.

Like this tree on the farm back home.

You walk by it every day. You’re vaguely aware that it’s damaged. You might even be aware of it enough to know that there are bees in it, and honey. It has character. It’s withstood many storms, and you trust that it’s not going anywhere. It’s been part of the landscape so long that you can’t imagine home without it. You face East and this is the face it shows you.

Then one day, the grass is too wet at your feet and you are forced to take a slightly different path. And you walk all the way around the tree.

You look back, facing West for the first time. Seeing the same tree stark against a different background.

And everything you missed before stands out.

How hollow.

How damaged.

How helpless you are to make it whole again.

All you can do is marvel that it’s still standing.
Still standing
Note: Like the saying goes, hindsight is always 20 - 20. Maybe that is because our minds work like an image taken with a camera. The picture on first sight you may only notice some of the details, the rest of the details are stored away in the back of the camera's memory, or our mind. Then years later we stumble upon the picture that was stored in the camera again, and all the little details one would think would have been lost through the years, return suddenly at the snap of the fingers.

It is the same with people, places, and things. It would seem that memories are not lost, they are only stored away on some mental shelf, until someone disturbs the dust off of them.
Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day. 

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Friday, 30 October 2015

Declaring Amnesty on the Past

Declaring Amnesty on the Pastby Lorna Tedder · in Personal Evolution, Relationships

Hi dear friend and followers. Welcome to my blog and thank you for reading. Today's topic is about trust and betrayal and vulnerability. Notes in orange text are my own observations

The day before Thanksgiving, I’m driving down the road, running errands before my girls get home from college, and an epiphany hits me like a ton of bricks: I cut people I love out of my life not because I’m done with them but because I am terrified of them.

This autumn has been the most difficult season of my entire life. It has been filled with pain and loss beyond what I have ever known. People you dislike can cut you to pieces, but there is absolutely nothing that can hurt more than the betrayal of the person closest to you. I cut someone out of my life in an instant and made damned sure this person would not want to return, just in case my heart ever softened.

Ironically, in a season of loss, all my past seems to be coming back to me in the form of people I cut out–all for good reasons I’ve never regretted–and this season has been one of intense spiritual lessons and decisions I never ever ever would have thought I would have made in regard to people from my past. It’s not that I hold grudges…. No, once I’ve been obliterated by someone I love, I put up walls to make sure they can’t hurt me that way again. And that usually means they don’t stay in my life.

Note: I have had similar experiences with friends and lovers in the past. Once I cut ties, it was for the duration, no going back, although the loss, hurt deep emotionally. I did not want to be hurt again, and I too threw up walls around myself. I felt no hate or any urge for revenge, I just let go, even though the hurt goes deep for an empath, and takes much time to heal. In my case I did not want any other relationships with a man, and I was pretty well determined to live the rest of my life alone. As for friends I had mostly acquaintances, for the exception of a few friends. I could not trust myself to get too close to anyone.    
But really loving someone is about giving a part of yourself that is vulnerable, by trusting that that person will handle that secret, dark, fragile part of you with care. About taking down the walls completely or either letting them crawl inside the walls with you, where no one else is allowed to go. Trust is based not on the other person’s promise to tend our secrets but on the promise of our own vulnerability. Trust is broken when that shared secret part of us is no longer tended and we can no longer allow ourselves the luxury–yes, luxury–of having our defenses down, of stripping down emotionally naked to someone else.

What I realize for the first time on the day before Thanksgiving is the startling truth about how I as an empath handle hurt that I cannot bear to live with. As an empath, I merge too closely, bond too deeply with people I love, and there is no way not to stay stuck in the same scenario without severing the bond, at least long enough to gain objectivity and regain strength and personal power. Cutting people out of my life isn’t about my sense of justice toward them. It’s not about their cruelty to me or their lack of boundaries. It’s not about excising toxic people or memories from my life. It’s this: cutting people out of my life after they’ve hurt me is the only way I know to protect myself from allowing myself to be hurt in that way ever again by that person.
Cutting people out of my life has never been an easy thing or a casual thing. Even as an act of self-preservation, people I love usually have to work quite hard–repeatedly–at hurting me before I’ve finally had enough. Then they get mad at me for cutting them out, regardless of the warnings.

Note: This is true, it is as if they didn't realise they were hurting you, like it was news to them. I could never understand the reasoning behind this behaviour. Either it is blind selfishness or just plain an unfeeling attitude towards another's feeling. Certainly not an empathic trait. these kind of people I just do not have the time of day for. Just wasting my time effort and feelings.

Usually, there are three reasons I shut people out:

1. Someone does something intentionally hurtful to me, often for their own enjoyment or sense of entitlement. These often are not people I love and may be people I’m in competition with in some way. I cut them out and never really let them back in. It is in their nature to be scorpions, and I will try my best not to get stung again. These tend not to be emotional relationships, but I do have some blood relatives who qualify for my brand of shunning, and I’ve never regretted it.

2. Someone hurts me but thinks they’re doing it for my own good. These are people I love who have boundary issues. If I let them back into my life, they are right back to ignoring boundaries within days–if not hours. These are usually loyal friends who let the lines blur between where they end and I begin, and they convince themselves that they know best for me, even if it’s not what I want. These are the friendships that end after I’ve said for the last time and been ignored for the last time, “Please stop opening this old wound every single day when I’ve told you I don’t want to speak of it again.” I’ve had friendships from twenty years ago reappear in my life in a joyous reunion with only one stipulation from me: a certain subject or person is off-limits. And guess what’s the one thing that person wants to talk about?

3. Someone who hurts me, knows they’re hurting me but does it anyway, and feels really bad about it, but they’re in over their head and can’t stop themselves. Oh, there are plenty of reasons/excuses for it, but the result is the same. I’m devastated. Trust is broken. And if only we could find that place of trust again, we’d be able to return almost immediately to the original closeness. But these are the ones I cut out because I can’t trust myself to make sure I don’t allow these people to hurt me again. These, unlike the people in the first reason above, are people who committed emotional treason but they’re also people who’ve really mattered to me in ways rooted in my core.

Note: I have known a few of them, and yes they will always be rooted to my core, For that matter some I have left the back door unlocked for, but I no longer sit with bated breath that they will return. I do send silent prayers for their well being
It’s the third group of people who are showing up in my life now to teach me a spiritual lesson.

A few weeks ago, a couple of coworkers–who had made life exceedingly hard for me at one point–returned to my life to make amends. Out of the blue. There were reasons for their hurtful actions at the time. It was their own sense of being overwhelmed and unsupported that caused their actions, but I got caught in the cross-fire. They felt bad for me, but not bad enough at the time to take the hits themselves. My taking the brunt of it was a welcome diversion to them. Now, years later, they wanted a fresh start with me. I understand what they went through back then and I did come out of it all right, except for the hours of overtime and sleep I lost. To my surprise, I was able to let the past go and give them both the fresh start they’d asked for. We are not especially close, but we are supportive of each other’s work now.
And then I got a message from someone I thought I’d never hear from again. Someone from my distant past. Someone I’d thought I’d die without when he left. There are words he said to me, so cool and smooth, that still ring in the back of my mind after all these years, even though I long ago shoved them aside as the words of a liar. I never thought I’d hear his voice again. I never thought I’d see him again. I certainly never thought he’d live 20 miles from me again. But there he was, living in the same town suddenly after all these years, his life completely ravaged by the time that had passed without us in each other’s life.

He wanted desperately to make amends.

I started to ignore his message, but Spirit insisted–even though I was hyperventilating at first–that I needed to meet with him. I understand why now. It was an incredibly healing experience. Oh, not in the way that he and I will be lovers or best friends, but…enough that we can talk from time to time.

The thing I didn’t realize in the healing process was how much was my choice. He wanted to make amends for the wrongs he’d done me–and there were not just a handful. The problem was, for medical reasons, he could not recall exactly what he’d done. Funny. He’s the one with permanent memory loss and I’m the one with a memory that never forgets. He told me I needed to tell him what the wrongs were he’d done me, and that meant I had relive those memories in my own head in order to convey them to him.

I didn’t want to do that. I had found a smooth, solid place to bury the pain of the past and I didn’t want to dig it up and show it off. I’d had plenty of unanswered questions back then, but I was no longer interested in having those questions answered and besides, he couldn’t answer them now anyway. So I chose to do something I never imagined being able to do.

I decided to let the past remain in the past, and offer him a fresh start. Not as lovers. Not as best friends. Just…a fresh start. We will never again be either of those first two–I’m quite sure of that–but we will be something new.

The surprising thing to me about offering a fresh start was how powerful I felt. Sitting across from this man who once meant the world to me, I now felt powerful, happy with my life and where it’s taken me, satisfied that I wasn’t part of his life when he was most broken.

There are some current friends who would say that I’m weak to give in and offer a fresh start to someone who was pretty horrible to me at a delicate time in my past, but I don’t think it’s weak to forgive or to offer a fresh start. This is a spiritual exercise thrust toward me. One I needed to accept to take another step in my personal growth. It’s not for everyone. And not everyone is ready. I’m not sure I am. But if I can grow and change, then I must believe that other people can as well.

I’m not sure how good I’ll be at fresh starts with people I’ve shut out of my life, whether these persons who’ve returned recently or others who have kept their distance. I’m not sure how easy it will be to lower my walls and keep those walls down. I’m certainly not sure of how easy it will be for any two people to wipe a slate clean of all those hurts from the past and start over.

But because these opportunities and this lesson have come to me at this particular time, I’m simply going to be open to it and to trying to create and allow fresh starts with a few of the people in my past who really, really mattered to me.
Note: All the bad experiences with Ex's for me will remain in the past. There is no gong back there. But twelve years ago I met another, unlike any other I have been with in my life. This person showed me what love is, trust, care, compassion and empathy. All of these traits that I have not received from another for a good many years.
Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day.

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ 

Thursday, 29 October 2015

Dear Universe, I Need to Know….

Dear Universe, I Need to Know….by Lorna Tedder · in Law of Attraction

Hi dear friends and followers. Thank you very much for visiting and reading my blog. Today's topic is about communicating with universe what you wish to manifest and setting into motion those manifestations for the day or days ahead

Sometimes when I’m alone, I talk to the Universe. Some people call that praying. In any case, it’s a personal way of figuring out what I want to manifest and then setting manifestation in motion.

If you’ve read my book, Give Your Life Direction, you know that I often set goals for the day by stating plainly on my morning commutes what I’d like to see come to me throughout the day. But sometimes, I find myself out for a 15-minute drive through my neighborhood late at night because I have unanswered questions–and I always want answers.

A few months back, I was having a restless night. It was too, too late to go for a walk and I thought I’d go stir crazy in the house or that I might disturb house guests, so I slipped out to the car for a quiet ride alone. As often happens, I found it helpful to verbalize my quandaries and in such a way that no human house guest would overhear. I needed to “talk out” my insecurities.

Note: My favorite place for meditation, prayer or speaking to Universe is out on the balcony. There, to an outside observer it would appear to them like I was talking to another individual. I speak normally as though I was talking to another person, in my case, an entity invisible to the outside observer.

“Dear Universe,” I finally said about a mile from my house, “I really need to know _____.” There. I’d defined what was bothering me. But I didn’t stop there. I had several more things I needed to know for my own peace of mind, so I stated those, too. Then I went home and slept soundly.
Note: Yes I much agree, one question to Universe unusually triggers off many other questions that have previously been eluding full attention for addressing to universe. I do not think that even if one lived for a million years, would one run out of questions. What really amazes me though is that even if It was only fleeting thoughts, and never really addressed them to universe, and yet some days weeks or months later, the answer pops up out of nowhere. And many a time those surfaced notions were way ahead of their time before they actually manifested.

A few days later, I realized all my questions had been answered. In rather unusual ways.
Note: Yes, usually most of the time, unusual ways.
A week or so later, I found myself discouraged and confused. Same issue as before but with different questions. I went for a short drive, stated my questions, and then went home to bed. Over the next week, my questions again were answered, one by one, in unusual ways.

Since then, I find that I play Q&A with the Universe about once a week. Most of the time, I walk out my frustrations–and for my health, too!–and have time to meditate or evaluate, whichever I need at the time. If I’m not able to walk as much because of my schedule or an occasional injury, then I plan for short, peaceful drives when I can turn off the music or the podcasts and simply state openly to the night air that I need to know something in particular.

And the answers come.


These are not easy answers. They’re sometimes not easy to take, but I need to know them to make certain decisions in my life. They aren’t easy guesses either. In most cases, the questions are complex and so are the answers, right down to a specific location or event. Sometimes the answer comes in an eerie, almost unbelievable way, such as when someone accidentally dials my number and spills secrets to me, thinking I’m someone else or when a key player in someone else’s drama calls out of the blue and asks my advice in the situation, not knowing at all that I’m aware of the situation. Oh, this is fun!

This week was a big one for me. I went for a drive on a Tuesday night and laid out two questions that had a direct impact on my professional plans. On Thursday, I had my answers via an unexpected phone call from the only person in the world who could have answered the question for me. The reason for the call had absolutely nothing to do with my worries, but in the last minute of the conversation, the caller decided to pour out her heart over a dilemma she was facing…and gave me excruciatingly specific details of what I needed to know to make a particular professional decision. This was not bland information that applies to anyone and everyone, but rather, I was given very private information about someone else’s situation that could have had a serious effect on my career. Hmmmm. Poof–I had my answer and nothing to worry about. If the information had been different, then at least I would have had advance notice to salvage a bad situation.

So when I say I’m asking the Universe what’s around the next corner, I truly am asking. And I’m truly knowing that the answer is forthcoming. Soon. Very soon. And in an unusual but helpful way.

Note: The answer almost always comes through the medium of other people in your lives. You don't have to get caught up in the drama, only the tiny part that rang a bell.
Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day. 
ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Wednesday, 28 October 2015

Best Partners: First Followers

Best Partners: First Followers

by Lorna Tedder · in Relationships

Hi dear friends and followers. Today I would like to share with you something of a more positive nature. This entry is much of the same in nature as an old game we use to play when we were young children. Follow The Leader. The rest of this post speaks for itself. Thank you for visiting and reading my blog

This week, I was introduced to the concept of First Followers, for the first time.

In essence, a leader may look ridiculous to the general public but when the first person has the courage to step forward to give social proof that the leader has something worth following, that first follower turns a leader’s ideas into a movement. The concept is easy to understand in this YouTube video on First Followers, but it gives me reason to think how this concept has played out in my various work projects.

My best first followers–and my best partnerships in the work world–have been with people who outranked me. It may seem that a first follower would be a highly respected subordinate, but for me, it’s almost always been someone who is an equal or superior. Many of my ideas have been a little off the wall, but once a highly respected, well-known colleague outranking me gave a sign of approval or even became an obvious public fan of my work, everyone else jumped on board.

I’ve seen the same in my writing career and other projects. The best collaborations have been when someone more respected, by me as well as by others, has become an instant and fervent supporter.

And then? Same as in business. We’ve been able to move mountains.
Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day. 
ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

The Aftermath of Breaking Patterns

The Aftermath of Breaking Patterns
by Lorna Tedder · in Relationships

Hi, dear friends and followers. This entry deals with the boundaries and walls we build around ourselves in the hopes of protecting ourselves from painful experiences we had in the past. What many of us seem to overlook is that even though we think most of the debris from our past has been dealt with and removed, there are always shards left behind that do come to the surface now and again to cause us pain. Shards that can only be confronted and dealt with when they come to the surface. It's a time-consuming process. Until then many old habits may be repeated. Please read on, the rest of this entry speaks for itself. Thank you  

Just because we’ve broken an old pattern does not mean that it isn’t still there, even if it’s only broken shards reflecting the past and still capable of cutting us deeply. Now we have to deal with the broken glass.

The past year has been a life-changer for me and a time of immense personal growth. Painful at times. Much of the time. And then a sense of freedom in understanding better the things that have caused me pain. It’s been the grand opportunity to reset my future.

My first response to realizing the impact of my father’s mental illness on me as a child and then especially me as a woman yearning for love was to decide that all men must be off limits in the future. Why? Because falling for men like my dad was a pattern in my life. I couldn’t trust that I wouldn’t choose yet another man exactly like my dad or any of the men who’d graced my life since my teen years. It took a couple of months to realize that once I understood my pattern, I could change it. This goes to the theme of understanding the darkness in our lives so we can create a different reality for ourselves. I’ve attracted into my life way too many men and women who are duplicate personalities of my father and his mother. These people tend to be among 
the more important people in my life.

I still attract people who have a deep intensity and passion, which mirrors my own, but intensity and passion need not be exclusively dark in their nature. Actually, I see both as blinding bright lights is a vast darkness.

I have several changes in friendships in my life since I’ve broken the pattern, and I’m a little giddy at the idea that these people don’t bear the same traits as past strangers I’ve been close to. The kind of intensity and passion I crave is rare to find, even when I’m advertising for it, and unheard of to just stumble into my life unexpectedly. I’ll take it in any form I can, whatever they’re willing to share with me and as much as they’re willing to share with me.

But sadly, I still have work to do. I can’t pat myself on the back too soon. I may have started breaking those old patterns but the patterns still cut me daily, when least expected.

I’m no longer attracting certain types of men and women into my life. The new ones are everything I’ve ever wanted, but without the bullshit. Unfortunately, I find myself thinking of them in terms of those old patterns. I feel as though I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

When a friend of mine returned from a deployment to Afghanistan, she would automatically react a particular way to the most innocent of noises. If a car backfired, she’d throw herself to the ground, heart racing, expectations of the end of everything. She was safely home and nothing in sight to hurt her, yet she’d been in the presence of bombing so often that she wasn’t even aware of her response to that old pattern. She wanted to be whole again and did her best to let go of the past, but the pattern was ingrained. It always took her a few seconds to figure out where she was in the present.

It’s like that once you break a destructive pattern. You don’t have the destructive person in your life any longer, but you just expect the same destruction from an entirely different–and different type–person because that’s what you’ve always known.

I look at these new people in my life and wait for the explosion. Can I really trust any of these people? Will they hurt me, too? Two, I’ve known for years, and they’re both a perfect example of my struggle to cope with still wanting to apply old patterns to them. One is a woman I’ve known for a decade and one is a man I’ve known several years, but I have a decently long history with both. It’s just that as I’ve cleared out some of the negative people from my life, they’ve both become more prominent in my life. There’s room now for good stuff. And I made room for them. For good people. For people good to me, for me. Neither has ever done anything to harm me or ever mistreated me in any way, so unlike the people previously in my life. They are both people who are good stewards of my heart, have my back, and could fit into my life in an infinite number of ways. I’d be content to have either in my home on a permanent basis or to share a trip through foreign lands without a guide. And yet….

The simplest thing can happen–that car backfiring, that book dropped, that crash of a plastic water bottle to the tile floor–and I forget who they are. Can I trust them? I think so. I do trust them. But automatically I will be back in a war zone and respond that way.

I find that I expect either…both, really…to cast me aside in due time, move on without me, leave me behind after my usefulness to them is finished. I expect the rejection to come. I expect plenty of promises of how we’ll get together but then they not show up. I expect that after that lunch invitation, I’ll find myself–as has happened before with someone who claimed to care for me–standing on the steps of my office building, looking at my watch, being quizzed by co-workers on whom I’m waiting for, and eventually realizing I’ve been stood up. I expect that a late night text that has me excited for collaborations and new insights will be followed–as has happened so often–by a text in the morning, asking for a raincheck or canceling everything we’ve planned with no explanation, not because of anything I’ve done but because the other person is in a bad mood or angry with the world or because something I said was taken out of context. I expect a flurry of communication…and then weeks of silence with no clue as to why. Irrationally, I expect the new people in my life to be just as callous and calculating as the ones who used to occupy that space in my heart and mind. Not because of anything they’ve done, but because of what I’m so used to.
That was so yesterday! Was it?

I’m not attracting the same type of people, but the effects of those old patterns leap up more often than I’d like. I don’t always respond that way. Not nearly as much as it might seem now that I’m casting a light on my fears. Only when something they do, some little something, is an echo from the exact words I’ve heard from someone else.

Words as simple and as beautiful as “You’re the single most positive influence in my life, ever,” or “You always make me think.” Words that have nothing to do with these new people in my life or their intentions or how good they are to me.

Then I do something I hate. Something I don’t want to do because I want to forget not only the importance to me of past friends (and more) who hurt me but the reaction that was drilled into me by the repetition of ways I was hurt. I know that reaction well. I’m well practiced at it.
In my inner core, my first response is to throw up walls to protect myself. In case that wasn’t a car that backfired down the street but something that will shred me again.
Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day.
ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Monday, 26 October 2015

Meditations, Dreams, and More

Meditations, Dreams, and More 

News from Gods I Don’t Recognize

Hi, dear friend and followers. Welcome to my blog and thank you for readingToday I wish to share with you about dreams and visions. Enjoy reading the entry for today
by  Lorna Tedder · in Dreams & Meditation


The new spiritual doorways I intuitively felt cracking 6 months ago have opened to me rather quickly. I didn’t know how or where or what was coming, just that it was. Honestly, I still don’t know what this is or what to do with it, just that I’m not backing down and that I feel I have no alternative but to walk through the door(s) in front of me and see where I’m led. Since February, I have been following that “guidance,” even when it didn’t make sense and may have made me seem pushy as hell to some people.

What I do know is that my dreams and meditations have changed since I started using Marc Rice’s meditation techniques in earnest rather than just glossing over them as I have for several years. (You can listen to/watch his free YouTube meditations for more information. One of his best playlists is here, though I currently can’t handle his binaural/whispered meditations because they’re too intense for me personally.) I’ve become very “visual” in my intuitive and empathic experiences, and that’s something I’ve not experienced often until now. Back around 2002, I was part of a poll of High Priests and High Priestesses on the question of whether we were “visual.” In other words, did we see energy, see the Dead, see things in the Ether? Although Wiccan clergy were expected to have certain gifts, including being able to “see stuff,” it turned out that only 10% of us did. I had both Pagan and Christian friends who were visual, but I was not. My visions came in dreams that were distinctly prophetic or metaphorical, or in an occasional “flash” of a memory of something that had not happened yet.
Note: My first being aware of visions and seeing began in 1998. shapes, colors, light flashes, but it was mostly intuitive feelings and knowing things before they occurred that somewhat disturbed me more than anything else. No one as far as I know could describe future events with such detail as I did that I knew of. It was just one of those things you didn't discuss with other people that I had learned from bad experience from as far back as since I was a child. That ability to foresee things had lain dormant for many years. It wasn't until two years later that I had heard about the indigo children and their movie was in town. I got curious and went to see it. That rang a great big bell and this was the same year I discovered through a friend about the phenomenon that is called empathy. This helped to alleviate much of the fear I had that I must indeed be either crazy or unique. I found that I was neither, nor was I alone

In less than two months of specific meditation techniques, I’m not only “visual,” but I’m experiencing visions that are either an ancient past or they are not in this dimension. They’ve been so insistent at times that I’ve had to take a big step back to gather my wits.
Note: I self-taught myself about meditation on the couch in my own living room. Sometimes with soft meditational background music on the stereo or just sitting in silence
One of these visions was interpreted for me by a Kemetic Priestess who saw my description online of Gods I didn’t recognize and gave herself over to channel a message to me. I mentioned only a dozen words of description, not to the extent I provide below.

The Vision

The vision started about 10 minutes into a late-night meditation, activating my pineal gland, then later moved into a dream about my deceased father. Can’t say I’ve dreamed of him often or even that he’s welcome to visit my dreams. He’s still the same, in any case. Still doesn’t listen to me. But at least he no longer raises a hand or voice to me.

The vision started in some other place. Maybe Ancient Egypt or Sumer, though it felt more like Egypt or a off-world version of Egypt. I was in my own point of view, standing, aware of my arms when I looked from side to side and aware of my body, but not able to see my own face. This is typical for me in Past Life Regressions and visions of the future. They are the same as memories, whether of the past or the future, complete with sounds, sight, smells, touch, emotions.

I stand. Head held high. Unafraid. I can sense stone beneath my feet. I am near the front of a large stone square. Not at the right corner and not in the center of this side of the square, but between the corner and middle of the wall or side. The square is raised, maybe twelve feet high or more. We are not on the ground. We are high enough to be above the heads of throngs. I’m vaguely aware of noise from below, as if people are celebrating in the street or at street-level below us. The stone at my feet, I notice when I look to my left, is brown. A light camel-brown. And dry but not hot. I’m aware of sunshine, but not so much brightness. If the weather is hot, it does not catch my notice. The stones are flat and many across this square, then short walls of stone at the perimeter. The structure is not finished but it is solid, and this is some kind of blessing. I think there are stone steps leading up to the middle of the wall where I stand, but I am not close to them and they are empty now.

I’m aware that no one else is on this square of stone with me except him. He stands in line with me on this square, but more toward the middle of this side, maybe in front of the steps. He is addressing the throngs below, doing something with his hands, some kind of gesture, like with a ribbon or tool. And he is a jackal-headed God. Not a jackal exactly, though that’s the closest I can determine. I’ve never seen a beast with a head like this one, but he has the head of a beast and the body of a strong and healthy man. He is some kind of overseer, or feels that way. He is in profile to me, and for as fearsome as he appears, I have no fear of him. None. I am simply watching him and waiting for his part of this ceremony to be done. I am assisting him somehow or even a passive participant in his blessing. I am not the focus of his words or attention, but I am in a respected and honored position.

There are glyphs and sigils everywhere. They look like they might be Egyptian, but I don’t think so. I’ve seen similar in another vision, back in the late 1990’s that was unlike any vision until now. But those sigils were on blue stone, not brown. And those were underground.

From my place on the stone square, I look into the distance and see a wooden wagon moving slowly toward this place. I notice first the beautiful woman on the wagon. She has long, long brown hair, pulled back from her face and entwined with golden rope or ribbon to fall in a single length down her shoulder, down her chest, down to her hip. She wears soft blue fabric, criss-crossing her body, flowing, like veils. She is honored, respected, moving forward through tall, wheat-like, golden grasses toward where we stand. The wagon is being moved forward, and it would seem that she is being carried on the wagon by others but I don’t see them. She seems to be a queen or someone prized in some way.

But one thing concerns me about her and I cannot, in waking, decipher it. She is tied by one wrist to a pole in the center of the wagon-bed. It makes me think upon ending the meditation that she is a prisoner, though she seems far too regal and prized to be regarded as a mere prisoner to be confined to a wagon and hauled across the grassy terrain toward what seems to be a half-built pyramid.

The meditation, after that, morphs into a dream where I am in the old garden on my parents’ farm, and it’s high in the same golden grasses as in my meditation. I am there in this two-acre plot, stepping off the acreage, being surprised at the rabbit that pops up under my nose and hops away, eventually finding myself on the other side of the square garden with Daddy, looking more as he did when he was in his 60’s and not the husk of a man that he became later in life.

We are talking, he and I. I am helping him measure off this two-acre square, and though we are working together, he is not listening to me or my needs or my joys. I was content on this plot without his presence, with only nature around me, but now I must stand my ground in conversation with him. But no matter how I hold firm, he does not listen. He never did. He always thought the best for me was his vision of the best for me. He needs my help to complete his task–measuring this plot–and I give it freely, but I never needed his help. I don’t now. Not for this small plot of land when I was just elsewhere high on a pyramid under construction, being blessed before a vast land.

The Interpretation

I sent the following to a few friends as my way of logging the meditation and dream when I woke at 3 AM.

Note: I have had many such realistic dreams which I have since written in story form so that I may be able to present these stories for others to read as being more acceptable to them as fantasy stories. If you care to look through this blog you will come across some of them.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day. 

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Sunday, 25 October 2015

A short poem composed by me

Hi, dear friends and followers. Today I wish to share one of my poems with you. I will be away this afternoon and did not have the time to do research for a blog post.

A short poem composed by me +Cindy Groulx


Mother Nature weeps
as her sunlight dims.
Her orchestra of wind
plays among the limbs
of the stout old trees
throughout the forest.
She sets up her symphony
of wind whispers and whistles. 
Percussion is the rain's pitter-patter, 
as it beats on the leaves all around.
Lightning streaks in the blackened sky
as thunder's drums beat a giant crescendo, 
reverberating from the mountainsides
as brilliant forks cast blinding white light!
One long-lasting distant ripping rumble,
and then as abruptly as it came, it stops,
in the early hours of morning.
The sun now peeks
and sends it new day sparkle
over the hills still soaked with rain.
Mother Nature's symphony is done.
Her orchestral piece has finished
and she turns to more peaceful pursuits.
and once more hides in solitude 

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. Have a great day. 

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ