I had lunch with a friend yesterday and the topic of past lives came up. He shared with me that he was told that he was an old soul and that in one of his past lives he was a monk.
As I recalled the conversation this morning it got me thinking about my own past lives. Nine of them that I have recalled on my own so far (plus more that I have been told about). Not the entire life from start to finish, but scenes, bits and pieces. I believe each of them were significant at the time the memory came to my awareness to facilitate an understanding or remembrance that could serve me in that moment, and each carries a fragment of who I am today. They are interesting, and not so interesting, great and ordinary. I remember being a Celtic healer, I remember being a man hunting in the woods with a bow and a knife so that I could provide for my wife, I remember being a native American woman, I remember watching my village burn down as a young woman in Asia, I remember having dark skin and laughing while running barefoot through a lush landscape, I remember being a tall and slender dancer, I remember being a guard for a queen and I remember being a boy with horse.
Meditation, Thursdays & Manifesting
This morning, as I sat contemplating and trying to understand a crystal message I was to deliver to the collective today, my eyes landed on a hawk feather resting on the cabinet under my TV. I crossed the room and picked up the feather I was gifted a few months ago (one of many serendipitous and freaky-cool occurrences this past summer) and just held it.
This message came to me almost verbatim while on a walking meditation as I pondered the usefulness of political signs in yards. As we approach the upcoming presidential election it seems odd to me that we are asked to choose sides and perpetuate a system of polarity.
** Whenever I get messages while walking, I use my phone's voice memo or notes application, and dictate it via seri as it comes through.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last six months, you’ve probably experienced some changes lately. Actually I take that back. The only thing I know of that lives under rocks are roly polies, at least that’s how it goes in my yard. And I don’t think much changes in their world, but then again, what do I know about roly polies?
I think it’s safe to say that unless you’re a roly poley, this shit-show we call 2020 handed you some changes.
Generally speaking, this is how I deal with things I don’t like. Something stupid happens, I let it bug me and I get grumpy for a while.
This morning I went to my local home improvement store very early in the morning to get some special orchid potting mix (after Googling “wilting orchid” a few days ago and getting the scoop on how to revive the beautiful plant a friend gave me last year). With only one item to pay for and not wanting to walk 5000 yards to the regular check outs, I got in line at the customer service counter.
Welcome back to our exploration of life balance! But first,...I’m going to tell you a story about a woman named Rose. It’s relevant… trust me.
Rose gets up early in the morning to shower and get ready for her day. She notices the bathroom needs to be cleaned and the laundry on the floor is still there but she was just too tired to bother with it last night. She made sure her kids’ homework was done AND that it made it into their back packs last night. She gets every one up and ready on time, out the door and into traffic.
Writing releases the thoughts you didn't know you had.