little runt cat

little runt cat,

left to die behind a coke machine

snoozes full grown now, beside me

1500 miles from her intended tomb

having said  “No” to dying before she’d lived

she found her way to me, dragging her

still attached umbilical, found a way

to make me want to save her, found a way

to crawl into my heart, found a way

to make me buy her a ticket on a jet plane

and fly her across country home,

now here she is, todays purpose being

to wait for, to stalk, to kill the monster

under the printers lid,

that disturbs her morning nap

Life. Once it gets a foothold,

it doesn’t want to let go

Two Part

 

FIRST PART

Before monotony declines on my head space,

I quiet the world, lifting the light higher,

putting idea-things in place. No sad can last

as the wheel turns, each daily sun bouncing

a new design off my forehead.

 

Rise up, my pretty notion.

When negative thought-sitting falters,

stretch and reach for the beginning of now.

Most precious essence of energy,

Helper of harmony. Animator of awe.

Rise up in word and vision. I am ready

and waiting where I need to be, for clarity…

under the willing waterfall.

 

 

 

 

SECOND PART

I am the absolute image of leisure,

soft clothes, no shoes, ice water and lemon.

I have a small degree of understanding

that some days lack texture,

shifts of smooth sailing,

meaning I can roll from the bed

into the chaise lounge with a book, a banana

and a box of magazines to rifle through,

without even slightly paying attention

to the odds and ends strewn about the floor

that don’t fit the scheme of my world,

my life or my perception.

They are all there, though, hangers-on….

those certain fragments of undoing,

specimens of puzzles still to solve, still to see.

 

For now, I am at peace with how-things-are,

basking in the rosy glow of liberation,

trusting in the wellness principle of creation

while soft footsteps pace outside my door.

Nothing to fear, only cats demanding

access and routine. Even in my luscious,

luxurious state of floating beyond obligation,

there are these cats bellowing for me

to come home again.

 

Best wishes, Whisel*  2008

 

 

 

Solstice Celebration and Retirement

On Saturday evening I met with a group of like-minded people whom are former members of our “spiritual/metaphysical” group that met regularly from 2001 through 2004. Different ones of us gather together occasionally now and then to enjoy each other’s company.

This particular group are more connected with Earth Centered beliefs and Native American spiritual traditions, sort of their emphasis on things in their spiritual lives. They had a bon fire and drumming and celebration of the Summer Solstice (that actually came in on Friday at 5:59 pm MDST), dancing and singing and toning. There was a meditation for healing of the earth. There was a power animal meditation. There was laughter, good feelings, sharing, catching up on things during the intervening months since we have last been together.

Numbers

So today I finished up my two week grocery list and coded each item by catalogue number. I order my food from a delivery service and every product has a five digit code number. That’s food for two adults and three cats.

Then I thought about the stash of vitamins and supplements I take, realizing I was running low. So I listed them out, checked my inventory, counting out what I needed and placed an online order.

Next I reviewed my packet of stamps, figuring out how many more of what denominations I needed to order to bring my assortment to combined totals of 42 cents each.

I was tempted to balance my checking account, being on a roll of sorts, but I was already dizzy, so I decided to move on to exercises and a more recreational evening. I counted out a moderate amount of leg lifts, stomach crunches and arm twirls. Then I spent a couple hours applying myself to my paint-by-number masterpiece. Go figure!

Do you ever have days that seem to be locked into a particular mode of expression? It seems kinda weird, but that’s a Full Moon for ya

Best wishes, Whisel*

It’s a New World

Lots of things have been occupying my mind (or what’s left of it) these days.

I’ve felt remiss about not contributing more to this site, but my focus has been elsewhere.

I’m sure that it is not only all too well known but perhaps even tiresome for others to see and hear my words as they pertain to the Law of Attraction. But that is the space I am in and focused on these days. I’ve been using and benefiting from the use of law of attraction long before it became popular (yeah, in some places it has become very popular these days. . .The Secret, The Law of Attraction, Creating in the Now). I have used it a lot throughout my life even though I didn’t have or know a name for it or really understand it as I do now.

The past 6 or so months has had me directing my focus to my book. Writing it was the easy part. The refining, re-writing and the paring down has not really been as much sheer joy. And how the law of attraction is used in the process of finding the right publisher has been interesting and rewarding. Who knew there was so much to learn about publishing and how it works and what is and what will be required of me?

Caramel

Almost caramel. That’s what I taste if I close my eyes and savor the melted cheddar cheese with olive oil. Caramel, like the taffy apples I made in high school that would not come off the waxed paper.

Caramel, like the popcorn mix sold downtown at Garrett’s in Chicago with white and cheddar popcorn. Caramel, like trick-or-treat goodies on Halloween. like the smell of the Indiana Beach boardwalk with deep fried, powdered elephant ears, rides for the kids, shooting galleries and prize booths for the older ones, dance halls and beer gardens and fireworks at night. Caramel, that luscious but deadly tooth destroyer, appointments at the dentist office before topical anesthetic or any of the pleasantries of manner or method, in that dental chair tense and trembling, drills of torture, one step lower than wide-awake brain surgery.

But ah, caramel! Formed into chocolate, nutty turtles given at holidays, a token of love or lust. The caramel color of the beach at Lake Michigan and 47^th Street and of the devoted beach goers parading their shades of creamy browns up and down the shore line. Brachs candy, each wrapped separately. Buy it by the pound. Holloway suckers. Milk duds. Soft caramel insides. Hard caramel toffee outside.

My imagination brings up all the savory memories attached to the taste of caramel. Tastes and smells are hypnotic, easily pulling to mind the visuals of past experiences.

Is there a particular smell or taste that reminds you of places and people in your life?

Best wishes, Whisel*

What’s Coming Up Next In Transformative Energy

.

.

Greetings to each of you from the light, within the light and with the light. The light is truth.

.

A great event comes to you this week. We reiterate with an explanation and will then elaborate:

It is that you have entered into reconstruction of your reality. The very fabric of which you are created is being rewoven. That which has been the harmonic arrangement which creates harmonic resonance of you and all other things is being rewritten as a symphony of changes.

Journey of Souls

 

I wrote the piece on Orientation before I purchased and read “Journey of Souls” by Dr. Michael Newton. Imagine my incredulity to find case studies in this book that supported my concept of Soul Processing once our Energy-Essence leaves the physical body.

 

“Journey of Souls” is a remarkable conglomeration of stories expressing the soul experience between incarnations. I recommend you read some of the customer reviews at the Amazon site:

http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Souls-Studies-Between-Lives/dp/1567184855/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1213122681&sr=1-1

 

My own experience with the Spirit World and those of my beloveds who have entered it validates a portion of what Dr. Newton has gleaned from his subjects in hypnosis. Although I have been given only a small taste of the Otherwhere by my Others, it is enough to convince me of its truth and actuality.

 

I read this book in a matter of days, taking it everywhere, not wanting to put it down for anything. If you are looking for something amazing to read, buy this book and clear your agenda. Prepare to be fascinated and enchanted. I just purchased his next book: “Destiny of Souls”. I am anticipating another great adventure. As I write this, The Gallery of Others in the Spirit World that usually accompany me are smiling and nodding.

Dr. Newton explains: “The research was painfully slow, but as the body of my cases grew I finally had a working model of the eternal world where our souls live. I found thoughts about the spirit world involve universal truths among the souls of people living on Earth. It was these perceptions by so many different types of people which convinced me that their statements were believable. I am not a religious person, but I found the place where we go after death to be one of order and direction, and I have come to appreciate that there is a grand design to life and afterlife.”

Best wishes, Whisel*

An Ultimate Intimacy

There are many ways for humans to share intimacy, but none more intense, I think, than sharing the dying process. So many times I’ve been gifted with this experience as a nurse, and with my own beloveds, and now, last week, with a dear friend of 50 years.

A week before her death, she said to me one morning, “Can you put the long tube on the oxygen tank, so I can go lay down on the couch?” I did this, and then asked her to tell me what was going on in her heart. She told me she wanted it all to go fast now; she was ready for the long trek to be over. I asked her if she was ready to let me take care of her and she said, with sadness, “I don’t have a choice anymore.”

I understood her sadness. It is terribly hard for a strong spirit to surrender itself to the care of another. But that’s exactly what she did, with incredible grace and a level of trust not unlike that of an innocent infant. From that moment on, through the next week, we didn’t need many words at all: our eyes talked instead and understood each other perfectly.

My hands sang with the joy of finally being allowed to touch her poor bony body, offering their comfort and ease and love. I can still feel the small weight of her leaning against me as I sat beside her on the bed, holding her as I’ve wanted to do for so long. I can still feel the dear weight of that tired head on my shoulder…the softness of her hair against my cheek.

She was surrounded by loving family, yet when her body whimpered a need, she looked for my eyes, and we “did it together.” That was her whispered response, , when we’d finish a task that needed doing..”We did it.” Her eyes spoke it when her voice no longer could.

I bathed her on the morning of the day she died: a long, relaxing bed bath that she relaxed into so fully. She loved the lemon-grass and sage lotion I’d brought her, and as I rubbed it into her hands and feet I thought of all she’d been, all she’d done while in this thin little body: how much she’d loved so many many people with all she had. She was a warrior woman, always fighting for those with no voice, protecting and prodding and empowering everyone who came anywhere near her.

Labyrinth

 While looking for something else, I pulled out a paper printed with the Chartres finger Labyrinth. Gosh, I must have printed this about seven years ago, eventually filing it under miscellaneous where most of my paperwork goes. Actually, it was with my collage materials, so generally it was in the right global ballpark, so to speak.

 

I lay it flat on my desk, shut off all noises like fans, air filters and TV, and began quietly and slowly to trace the design with my index finger. This activity never fails to shut off my mind, release my tension and produce gasps of breath in me. It connects me to the here and now and lifts me from worries, burdens. Here’s the website, if you care to print one of your own.

http://www.labyrinths.org/resources/resourcesforfacilitators.html

 

I walked an outdoor labyrinth in Ohio many years ago. It was quite purging, intense and healing.

Interesting that I found it today, since tomorrow I’m going to the eye surgeon.

 

Best wishes, Whisel*