Beautiful Dream

Golden Dreamer with Tormaline eyes, you rock! Thank you for hosting the wonderful party last night and for bringing out your true colors. How sorry I was to have to wake up this morning, but there were birds singing and the sun will be out.

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What the End Times Means to Me

I don’t have to worry about shoulds, should haves, coulds, or could haves.

I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me or about me, except for maybe myself and Jeremy. We are a coalescing unit that frequently comes together from our individual selves and create an entity that is not expected from the sum of our parts. I feel that when we are together in this way, neither of us recognizes ourselves, but this unit, cohesive whole we create in our togetherness.

Money is out the window, at least any emotional hook the money used to have as the only path to salvation, aka freedom.

What is meant to be for me to enjoy is in my palm or on its way to my doorstep.

Abundance is for real.

There is no fear.

There is no jealousy.

Grace, kindness, blessings, hugs, and love are available when needed.

Everyone is honest and transparent.

Others appreciate the genuine authenticity displayed in everyone as the pursue their heart’s highest calling.

Time is irrelevant beyond what is noticed from the sun and moon because everything comes together or draws apart as it is meant to, in harmony with divine will because aligning oneself to one’s god self, one can do no less and as we all enter our personal Christhood, the real second coming, we are able to commune with the higher selves of other, unity consciousness and well translation fails here, but it gets all lovely and beautiful from here on out.

However, as I shift into this new frequency zone, I am finding it difficult to find music and media that match my current vibration. I don’t really have time to create those sorts of things right now, and maybe no one else does ether, but I think there is going to be a growing demand for new expression and entertainment as we enter into this new being-ness. Surely, that is the calling for some of us. I look forward to being inspired by your work.

 

Today’s Signposts

The Fucking Hilarious Trip

I guess they really did get rid of GeoCities. I imagine million little slaves data mining the collective works we produced. This is hilarious in its own right, because well, it’s gone the way of the Hole in the Universe.  Because we don’t need heroes or wayshowers or maps anymore.  Also the machine elf night is every night. I need to remember what it felt like to get up and go, even when I’m not leaving.

River, River

Really, don’t you get it? Rivers, everywhere are the same. Except for the River Styx. But the Root River vibes just like the Sacramento does, only it was smaller. Mirror mirror take me home.

Herkimer Diamond

It’s the mention of the nature of the universe. Carl Sagan meets Einstein in a dimensional vortex blender. I found my love and I took her down. I climbed a mountain and I looked around. Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? I can’t see the ocean from the mountain top and I am down in the valley anyway. Mountains hey? But so, so, so, swooning with the amethyst. My love, broken and unrecognized, so it ends. Because I can feel them all like homemade ice cream. The ones pure and right of heart. Love, love, love. Somehow at my core the love of my first sister tints the frequency of them all when we are still today, all the ways we are connected to each other thrill me. We are the same being and yet we are different just enough. She mirrors my grandfather and the rock in the river the secret 100 year old Scilla siberica in the Spring. They epitomize all that we brought.

Anyway, I thought I might sleep with the diamond tonight, especially after someone on Transitions said they slept with a rose quartz last night.

Also, gemstones have a way of finding you. I don’t like to buy them so much, unless it was serendipity that led me to them.

Elusive Dance Country Meets Snow Chalet Energies

I keep dreaming we turn the McCloud River Mercantile Hotel into a hippie rooming house/ski chalet. I dreamed I visited Zackary at the said location which has been in my dreams a lot in the last year and somehow that all relates to everything else of today because as soon as I got over the “being a girl sucks” vibe, I was onto the fucking hilarious trip and well, Jeremy and I were talking about it last night, tripping, and I was thinking how it was a good thing I’d done hallucinogens before, but that’s not really the word I’m thinking of, but I’ve forgotten the word. #hate language. It’s so primitive and frustrating! But we were discussing how now it is like when you are coming out of it and trying to put your world back together. I don’t know if I’ve arrived or made it or whether I missed the ship and got left behind, but it was my ship anyway. I mean I was the navigator, so haha, the joke’s on you, or at least it’s not on me, but I can laugh about it, because although I can’t explain it, I get it, totally. Or at least I can laugh myself into believing I do, but I’m not really laughing, I’m only laughing on the inside.

One of the bands of Pomo called themselves People of the Water Lily Place. That is rad.

Something about lilies reminds me of home so much, but especially the scilla, that color and when that color is naturalized against giant tree trunks and the neon green of spring…. oh!

But really, it’s sort of fun living revelations.

Every sprout and seed

Every Flower and tree

Every child and beast

Every one of these

Done up to the Ts

Wild and willing

To this is the thrilling

Demand forth to spilling

Light and life

We are promised to bring

Yeah so we didn’t like that story be whatever truth to it, it had been tainted and manipulated that they should take the tree and the lily and pervert their sacredness so. The heart of the Earth has shifted. She too has a will Mr. Judaeo-Christian dude sir. Nah na na na, hey, hey, good-bye.

Arena Point and Fort Bragg are calling but I have many miles to go before that trip.

Hormones

I really feel like I need to stay home today and have menstrual hut moon time. I am a week off on my cycle again. It’s not that I dread going to work today, it’s just that I’m feeling very nesty and creative.

I am fearing and anticipating the horrid contractions. If I get the slightest bit out of flow, I feel I am doomed.

I think Jeremy induced the beginning of this. I mean, I was half expecting it today, but I was figuring that the bad day would be Sunday, on my day off and that it wouldn’t really feel like a day off.

I am so freaking lost right now, and I ought to be at work. Like how is it 9:30 already and how can I have possibly been up for so long already and I can’t imagine that I will be ready to go in less than an hour.

I really, really need to do some focused energy work, consciously today.

Oh well, here goes to another day in which I wander around feeling like I’m coming down off of some powerful mind trip.

What is this? Where am I? How can my back be so tight and not hurt? OMG! What happened?

 

Please Manifest Sanity

I have recognized the difference between fear and dread. How can you fear something you have lived through dozens and dozens of times? Yet, you know it’s coming. It could be less intense or worse than you can possibly imagine at this moment, but it’s coming, you can feel it, and you know it sucks and you just want to get it over with RIGHT FUCKING NOW. I can feel this chemical cocktail of womanhood and it is DISGUSTING.

So please, please may I lose some body fat and make this stop or get pregnant? ANYTHING ANYTHING ANYTHING. There is nothing worse than having to “drop out” and spend at least 4 hours SCREAMING because you are in the most intense possible imaginable pain.

I am so ready to resign. So, so so ready. I work at a great, understanding place, but however, people, in general, just don’t get what it’s like to operate from a completely and utterly different reality. I cannot function in people’s reality.

In that world, I am insane even though from my perspective, that world is wrong, dysfunctional, and insane.

I can’t do this anymore! I WANT TO GO HOME! NOW!

Emily’s Rock

I wish I could translate all of this, between dreams and ancient energies of the landscape, between the peaceful restlessness of this man I love, between my homesick longing for Soda Creek Ridge and the more recent grab and haunt by the Bend area…

Cranes and curses. Thunderbirds and falcons. Floods and hail. Windstorms and other dimensions. Initiation rites and rivers. Mountains and valleys. Clouds that move too fast. Turtles, effigy mounds, herons, and egrets. Skies that seem eerily dark in the day and eerily light at night.

Virtually unable to stay put in the old world, I keep thinking, “That place doesn’t exist anymore. I can never go back.”

I wander along the river, trying to keep an overall awareness of the landscape, half looking for her signature, but not expecting it.

Machine elves, time, black-ops…

There is this knowing that the maps never really matter at all. It was a very, very primitive means of trying to capture the essence of the sacred geography. The world is blue and white and brown and green, a crazy marble from above. And as I come crashing in, Mt. Shasta is a blue-violet pulsating beacon. The rivers throb in fuchsia.

I don’t care anymore, because that place before no longer exists, and I can’t help it if no one else  understands. I cannot plan ahead. I cannot be rational about money. I can barely be rational about science or the laws of physics. Every micro decision I make is bumping me on to a different micro timeline. I timeline jump hundreds of times a day. Some good the maps would have done in the chaotic node. I try to keep my feet toward the center of the Earth, my body in the eye of the storm, my heart aligned with the galactic center, and in my crown, the energies of the desired outcome. Spinning, and spinning, and spinning.

Groups sue USDA Challenging Genetically Engineered Alfalfa Approval

Groups sue USDA Challenging Genetically Engineered Alfalfa Approval.

I thought I might write a letter, in crayon, to all my representatives that reads, “I like ice cream. Please stop GE alfalfa.” At the bottom would be a picture of someone happily licking ice cream and the other side would be a toxic dead cow with an x through it. At least then Congressman Herger might understand the point of the message. Except that he wouldn’t make the connection between ice cream and alfalfa because he probably thinks that ice cream comes from your grocer’s freezer and that dairy cows eat corn from the feed store, if he even realizes the connection between dairy and ice cream. Now I just need to induce lactation so that I can make my own ice cream.

The people are speaking, with their wallets. We want food that is nutritious and wholesome and sustainable. Not watery, toxic sludge.

Microplateau

I’m so happy we both got good sleep. This is the first night in almost a week that I didn’t struggle to get to sleep. It’s the first actually restful sleep I’ve had in a very long time.

Although I was feeling frustrated after work last night, I wasn’t completely exhausted, and spent most of the night cooking and playing records. Behold the power of analog!

 

A Visit to the Outside

I have to go run errands. I probably won’t be able to accomplish everything I need to do tonight, but I really want to spend the entire day at home tomorrow. Somehow I have not signed myself up for any outdoor activities. I am going to forgo the ski “race” tomorrow because I really, really need the time at home.

I hate shopping, but I am out of deodorant and I need onions and milk to make quiche tomorrow with the rainbow chard.

 

A Bigger River Bend

Working in the Bend area has been amazing. I have seen so many different creatures here: a nesting pair of falcons, quail, squirrel, red wing black birds, cattle, roosters, horses, dogs, egrets, ducks, geese, blackbirds, robins, turkey vultures, frogs… There is an amazing play of light across open pastures and a forgotten rhythm of peace in the walnut orchards. The river is so green and powerful, but calming and reinforcing.

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