The Universe/God/Source will give you what you want, but you must learn to communicate in the language of Emotion… all other forms of language are man-made or ‘Ego-made’. Man and Ego are not bad, they just don’t apply in the realm of the Ethers, which is where your Requests are sent.
When existence is broken down entirely, there seem to be only two concepts at play- To Be. And. The Ability to Be. (-Jesse Hart) The first is masculine energy, and the is second feminine energy. The Etheric Realm I mentioned is feminine. It is easy for us to understand how to use Masculine energy- go learn how to build something, do math, apply time management to attain a goal. Feminine energy is abstract and doesn’t have nearly as many resources available on how to work with it effectively.
When it comes to dealing with masculine and feminine energies, gender matters, and it doesn’t. You were built a certain way, and this makes you wired for certain functions, but you can certainly make use of the full spectrum of energies. We ARE technology. Walking, breathing, pulsing technologies. Generally speaking, you either have the Male version or the Female version. Kind of like… Microsoft and Macintosh are designed differently, but both can perform similar functions. Thinking of it this way, isn’t it interesting that Mac’s symbol is an apple with a bite out of it? Eve took the first bite from the apple of wisdom. On a more basic level, the Mac logo is round, and the Microsoft logo, shaped like a window, is angular. Also, “Microsoft” is an anagram of “Stoic Form” while “Macintosh” is an anagram of “Into Chasm.”
The human vessel is very layered and complex. If you’ve not cleared yourself then you cannot communicate to Source/God effectively. Your true Emotions, aka, your Requests For Life Experience, will become skewed. You are like a radio and your Heart Center sends out messages to the Self-Organizing Response System that we call Earth. It is designed to match and mirror the frequencies you put out. I’m not here to tell you why its designed that way, I am simply exposing the blueprint.
Imagine your Heart Center as the place where messages are sent out to the “Self-Organizing Response System; Earth.” (SORSE, sounds like “source”) and your body and surrounding energy field is the antennae. If your antennae is clear, you will send clear messages. But let’s say you carry trauma, fear, judgement, bitterness, hate, self-loathing, or feelings of the like, within your body. Those act as blemishes in the antennae and your message cannot be sent out accurately. So SORSE matches and reflects those distorted frequencies and you experience things that do not make you happy. SORSE was designed to be completely un-biased, so it will not “save” you from your distorted creations. You have to clear yourself and then learn how to communicate in the language of Emotion effectively before you can truly have the co-created life of your choice.
Some uplifting news is, your Heart Center is never corrupt no matter WHAT you experience, or what you do, or how you feel. It will always guide you in the direction of your soul purpose. What feels corrupt is the constructs built around the Heart Center. These can be ideas our family raised us with, ideas society has imprinted upon us, media fear mongering, peer pressure, physical assault, emotional abuse, the list goes on and on. It can even be the buried traumatic memory of being born, or something experienced while in utero, or even something from before you were born. It hardly seems fair, I know. But really, what is “fair”? Another man-made construct.
I had a lovely stay at this other dry, desert state. Only, unlike Texas, there was art, and history, and fascinating geology at every turn. Our first stop was at The Carlsbad Caverns National Park right at the border of Texas.
I’d like to think of it as a giant earth vagina
We drove up into the mountains, then walked 72 floors down into the Deep, then ascended back up the 5,000 feet in a speedy elevator. It was about 90 degrees outside, and 55 inside. Yikes for the sensitive to drastic changes of pressure and climate. I’ve been in caverns before, once in north Georgia and once in Alabama, but this one takes the cake just for sheer grandeur. (If you’re on the east side of the states, then The DeSoto Caverns will fulfill your caveman/woman desires.) A deep cavern experience is unlike anything else in the world. Not that I’ve experienced everything in the world… The initial feeling is that of spook and giddy wonder. Kind of like going into a haunted house. A haunted house on another planet. It takes a good chunk of time to really get in there, all the while the opening to the abyss is getting larger and larger. The air gets cooler and heavier. Every drip, every foot scuff echoes throughout the entire thing. Your neck cramps from looking up in awe. You’d better cling to the rail, because the path is slick and steep, and you could easily fall 50 floors to your doom. Its plain to see the element of danger, but just in case you’re an idiot, there are signs telling you that several people per year have to be rescued from the caves, and some die. …What? You don’t want to go now? Oh, relax. Its totally worth risking your life. (hehehe)
For those of you curious about the metaphysical aspects of the caverns, its easier to see light beings in the darkness. The tiny photons of light I normally see, erratically moving about, become larger pellets with distinct flight patterns. Vague, colored mists last longer and hold form. Its called a “living cave” for a reason, because its still being formed a little bit every day. So, the energy of the rocks is thick and slow-pulsing like molasses pumping out of a pipe. Physically sensitive people must be careful, because I could feel the pressure on my lungs. I attempted to clear the way for communication, but I suppose I’m not there yet. The phrase “if these walls could talk…” would be appropriate for Carlsbad, most definitely. I imagine they would whisper the mysteries of the beginning of the earth.
So, here’s a video of me and Dad taking the plunge. Its times like these that call for a great camera. But alas, I could only capture the other-worldly wonder on my iphone. (I apologize for the volume issues. Please adjust as necessary.)
Its been brought to my attention that I haven’t shared anything since Texas. I haven’t stopped documenting, though. But once I had shared that I’d been in the hospital and got no response, I figured no one was reading. Or, hell, maybe you only get so many times for people to be concerned and I’ve used them up, bleh.
So I’m in Oregon now. I think this will be my home. Currently, I can’t decide if i want to live in a small- no TINY- rural town and help develop a sustainable community with an emphasis on permaculture, or try my hand in Portland, where I’m sure to fit in, so I’ve been told…. I’d love to establish a new social circle filled with young artists and musicians. I’d also love to be a part of something special and meaningful, surrounded by people who value me. I think I might be trying to plan my future, and I’m just not wired that way. In my experience, I get the best results when I just let go and have faith. Ugh. The ‘F’ word hahaha.
Well I’ve been trying to hone my video editing skills, something I became super interested in not too long ago while witnessing a girl friend back in Atlanta. I have her to thank and blame 😉 Why blame? Let’s just say, I’m not catching on so quickly- No. I suck. I have this software called ‘Lives’ that can produce professional looking results, or I can use Youtube, which is good enough, but tedious. I hate their “cropping” function- you have to sliiiiiiide the ends down to the part you want. Why not just a scissor tool, Youtube??? Hm. Perhaps there is such a thing, and I’m just too much of a doof to have found it… My point IS, that as soon as I can figure out the finishing touches, I’ll have my next adventure posted. Thats right. I’m too OCD to go out of order. After Texas is New Mexico. Then SoCal. And so Forth.
I’m on OkCupid again. That’s how I found my last boyfriend… when was that, like four years ago? Gee I’ve been single for a while. Throw a girl a bone? Ah. I suppose I’ve pushed away a few prospects on my own accord, so I have no one to blame but myself. I’ve turned into a bit of a commitment-phobe with really high standards. What? I heard boys love that…. : / LOL So far, nothing promising has happened. I went on one, very bland date (he totally didn’t look like his photo! and called Donnie Darko a douche! Blasphemy!) I’ve gotten a few numbers. But someone always shuts down at the last minute. … yes me, ONCE. But them MORE! Grr. My aunt says all I have to do is love myself, and it will be reflected back in my life. Well, I love myself plenty. Sometimes twice a day. (wah wahhhh) But seriously, I’ve worked really hard to come to terms with who I am. In fact, I’ve pushed loved ones away to protect my love for myself. Not that I’m proud of that. It just happened that way 😦
So what’s up Universe?…Huh?… When will all my dreams come true, huh?…
…heh?
….h-hellooooo…..
Sigh. Nothing but the Void. You know. They say the longer you stare at the void, the void starts to stare back. Hm…. I just imagined a metaphysical comic strip portraying that concept- Nietzsche and Void are children screaming at God, “he’s looking at meee!” “stop looking at meeee!” “you started iiiiiit!” …. hahahaha!
(Then God says, “don’t MAKE me pull over.” And they are instantly silent… As we pan out we see Jesus in the back. He says, “Hey Dad… *I* wasn’t fighting…” Everyone rolls their eyes. “Yes we knoooow. Now go turn the other cheek or something…” Neitszche scoffs and continues staring at the Void, but the Void just sits there and… and… exISTS… and stuff….its slowly driving him mad…)
Barbeque, black gold, and badlands. Texas was hot and big and boring. We stopped in Houston. Meh. We ate at a restaurant with lots of dead things on the walls. We stopped at a gas station attached to a fancy restaurant. We drove through a vineyard. …. yeah you heard right. A vineyard. I’ll bet the wine tastes like desert with a hint of desert. Then we drove through Austin, which seemed like the only redeeming thing about Texas, but I got sick and didn’t get to really experience the town claiming to be the best in the nation for live music. Oh good. Not like I’m into that or anything… [grumble, grumble]. Well, I’ll just have to go back for the SXSW festival some spring.
I’d like to write some shit about how I’m feeling sorry for myself right now. But I hate that I’m wasting my energy. But at the same time, I believe in getting hurt out, because suppressing it makes it fester. I spent the day at the hospital on friday and endured one of the most painful things I’ve ever been through. My poor heart is going to give up if I have any more anxiety issues. That’s probably not true, but it sure feels like it right now. I’ve been prescribed xanex now. That makes four prescriptions I’m on…
I pray often. Or, send out energy. Or think with intent. However you’d like to look at it. I want to be of service to the Universe, and I know that means a lot of sacrifice and suffering. But I am EXHAUSTED. I really need a break from the calamity. And if you know anything about my life currently, you know this is no exaggeration. I miss having a home. I miss having friends. I miss having a boyfriend. I miss my sister. But mostly, I miss human touch. Don’t get me wrong, I am utterly grateful for this time in my life and what is happening and the people who are supporting me. But, God, angels, spirit guides, animal guides…. please relieve the tension in my heart in a painless way. My chest hurts and its hard to breathe. Please give me the strength to keep going gracefully into the unknown. Life is hard. Every waking moment a challenge right now. Then I go to sleep and have nightmares and wake up screaming. I long for true rest.
Dad had promised some authentic cuisine in NOLA but I guess we got carried away with, you know…. it all. So we stopped for lunch in LaFayette. We had the ill fate of going during Love Bug season, which is not nearly as lovely as it sounds. They’re these slow-flying black and red bugs, who are attracted to shiny things, like cars. When they mate, their butts stick together for the following 7 days. Yup. They just fly around stuck together. How sweet. Yeah maybe. They don’t bite, so its not that bad, but they’re EVERYWHERE. Ick. Anyway. Don’t visit at the end of summer.
Once safely inside away from the pesky amour, I was able to truly appreciate the french influence. We ate at PreJean’s. Just typing it makes my mouth water. Not only was it cleverly decorated as if the bayou and Chuckie Cheese had a baby, but the service was friendly, and food was overwhelmingly sensational. I swear, I ate one of the best meals of my life there. And that statement holds some water, because I’m kind of a foodie with taste for the sophisticated. We sampled the award winning chicken and sausage gumbo (hey, when in Rome…), and then my lunch entree was the Eggplant Abbeville. Its a fried eggplant wheel topped with sauteed jumbo lump crabmeat and shrimp in a cane syrup Worcestershire cream. It comes with a side of dirty rice and corn macque choux, which is like fresh kernel corn salad served in a pastry cup. The three drastically contrasting flavors complemented each other like a Monet triptych. This is a restaurant I must come back to at some point in my life.
Prejean’s Eggplant Abbeville with dirty rice and corn macque choux
NEW ORLEANS BABY!!! HAHAHAAA! Oh man… holy shit… holllllllley flamin’ beignet biscuits, what a town. I’ve never been before and… what a sensory overload! Its like a giant, city-sized floating funhouse plopped in the middle of a bayou with 250 years of debauched history. Sprinkle on endless stories of ghosts, vampires, murders, and the fact that they have the highest number of missing persons per year, compared to all other cities in the U.S., then you get some sort of SORDID funhouse with knives on the slide and cannibals behind the mirrors. Sounds like something out of a Rob Zombie film… But hell, that’s why its fun. Since when does pleasure and pain come separately anyway?
So. Even though being outside in the heat and humidity for more than a minute gets you covered in slime, our visit started off on the right foot. A great hotel really makes a difference. I’m so grateful my Dad offered to come along and pay for shit, otherwise I’d be sleeping in my car and might not’ve had a back by the time I got to Oregon.
I don’t know what I expected. I don’t think I had any expectations, really. I mean, I’d always heard crazy stories from mardis gras, but its not that time of year. However. Something called “Southern Decadence” was happening all Labor Day weekend. Gay men pranced around in large numbers embracing their gayness. Ok, maybe only some of them pranced. It was sort of a big, sweaty, anything goes, unofficial parade of stereotypes. But don’t get me wrong, I thought it was fucking awesome! I’ve never been so entertained or felt so safe amid so many men. And I totally saw this one dude’s penis. Hahahaha. I took an awesome video of the insanity with my iphone but for some reason the file went corrupt 😦 SO bummed about that. Oh well. Guess I’ll just have to attend another gay parade. Onlyyyy next time, not with my dad. Sorry. One should never have to view so many butt cheeks with their father.
Anyway. Moving right along. I was stunned at all the art galleries and antique shops. I could’ve spent a hell of a lot more time exploring those. There’s live music at every other block, and they could easily be a set up for a movie. Everything you’ve seen about New Orleans, by the way, isn’t an exaggeration. People really talk like that. The bayou really looks and smells like that. And its really that crazy. Its an eternal party. What I love most, is that anyone can be anything they want without scrutiny. EN-eee-thing. AND. You may even be able to make money just off of being your weird self. Take these people for example.
Well, I guess I can’t write about New Orleans without mentioning VooDoo. All I have to say about that is, its not all that hexing spooky spell shit the media portrays it to be. I mean, every spiritual practice has its dark side if the individual chooses to take it there, but from what I could tell, its just Haitian metaphysics. The voodoo doll is primarily used for healing. There are different colored needles that stand for different emotions. You put the needles in the part of the body that you want to see healed in that fashion. For instance, a pink needle may stand for bliss or peace, so you can stick it in the heart. A green needle might stand for calm, so you stick it in your doll’s nervous stomach. Those aren’t accurate, just examples so you can get the jist. I think its pretty cool. The Haitians are polytheistic and the many sculptures, statues, and masks are representations of them. Once again, nothing spooky here. For instance, the mermaid who looks into the mirror and sees her skeleton is an analogy for getting to know oneself deeper, in an existential sort of way.
So, nothing spooky yet, however, if you visit NOLA, I highly recommend the Vampire Tours. On the surface of these animated streets, life is… parties, lights, music, and people seem to follow their city’s motto, “let the good times roll,” but at the underbelly some really disturbing stories can be found. They are fascinating, though. Did you know that NOLA’s graveyard is above ground? It is said its because water runs not too deeply below the surface. What I learned on the tour, is that the city is so pressed for space that after a certain amount of time, they squish your remains to the back of the vault and drop them down a shoot into the bayou so they may reuse your place of rest. That’s about 300 years of death layered on top of each other.
There’s a story about two men who lived and worked in NOLA around 1932 who were arrested for kidnapping several people off all ages and gender. They kept them tied up, drained them of their blood, and when they died they buried them nearby, layering the victim’s remains in limestone and acid in order to dissolve the bodies. The police never found out just how many victims were buried there. Its said that the condo these men lived at is highly haunted and in the last ten years, only three people have lived there. Even though its a nice place in the center of the french quarter, no one stays for more than a few months.
That’s merely the tip of the iceberg, though. However, I’m only going to mention one more story because its just so damn twisted and interesting. The archdiocese resides on the outskirts of downtown in an old, inactive convent called the Ursuline convent. In case you don’t know what archdiocese means ( I didn’t) it is a district ruled under the archbishop’s jurisdiction. In other words, its a chunk of the Vatican. It belongs to them, not the city, the state, or even the country for that matter. (I don’t think… don’t quote me on that, though.) Anyway, St. Mary’s church, and a thick 10 foot wall around the premises was added onto this convent. It is famous for several reasons, but mostly for the tale of the casket girls. There are several variations of this story, but I’ll tell you what I heard. The French Catholic church sent over several young ladies on a boat to NOLA to wed the lonely men working there. They were given casket shaped boxes filled with their dowry, however some stories say they were empty, and possibly for the purpose of holding their bodies once deceased, others say they held vampires. The boat stopped at other ports along the way, and many of the women were convinced to get off with those men. By the time the ship arrived at NOLA not many were left, and instead, several casket shaped boxes were carried off. The old Ursuline convent took the remaining ladies and their boxes in. Hence, the term “casket girls.” Rumors spread around town about vampires. The people eventually rioted the archdiocese and demanded to see what was in the boxes. Apparently the church assured them that there was nothing in them and they were stored in the attic for safekeeping. Over the years, people have asked for access to that attic, but they are denied and told there is nothing up there except old furniture and dust. The windows to the attic are nailed shut with wooden shutters. You can clearly see, that no other part of town has shutters quite like this even with the threat of hurricanes. Apparently, around 1978 a paranormal team visited NOLA to investigate the casket girl story. Two young ladies set up a camera on a tripod facing the attic windows for an all night investigation. In the morning, they were found nude, dead, and placed on the front stairs to St. Mary’s. There was no sign of injury except for a gash on their backs between the spine and shoulder blade. The coroner’s report states, “whatever happened to these girls, must have been done with their consent.”
I briefly researched these things and couldn’t find a whole lot to back it up, but it makes one hell of a story, right? Oh, and here’s one more bit to really twist the blade. The giant cross above the front doors of the church is not in the typical savior shape, yet it is encased in a perfect circle, which is often recognized as a sun cross, with the perpendicular lines denoting the solstices. In the center of this sun cross is an upside down dove. The dove is used in christian faith to show how it descended from heaven and landed upon Jesus, however, its normally depicted upright, or sideways. I looked into that, and an upside down dove IS associated with the Occult, but whether that actually means something, I don’t suppose we’ll ever know.
a real time shot from the actual church courtesy google earth
Our first stop was in Montgomery, Alabama. What the hell is there to do in Montgomery you might ask. Answer- eat fried chicken
. …Aaaaand go to any and all of the Civil Rights museums/monuments. Shakespeare Park sounded interesting as well, but it was too damn hot to be outside. We went to the Rosa Parks museum located in Troy University. Anyone who gives a shit about history or revolution, even just a tiny lil’ terd, I HIGHLY recommend this museum. It was fascinating, impeccably designed, and as informative as it was entertaining. There’s an actual period bus inside with TV’s for windows showing a theatrical re-enactment of what really happened that day. You know, the one that Outcast sang about. (ah-ha hush that fuss, everybody move to the back of the bus) Now, I guarantee you, unless you did your college thesis on Rosa Parks, you probably don’t realize the all the beautifully intricate layers of effort, work, and patience that went into starting The Civil Rights. There was suffering, sure, everyone has heard about that. But there was so much more. And maybe you don’t think it has anything to do with you if you’re not black. Well, you’re wrong. I’m not a terribly sentimental person, but my eyes welled up a few times. These were truly magnificent souls who fought clean in a dirty war and raised the standards for American life. I was absolutely inspired. You can set this as an analogy for anything you care about, any task you want to accomplish, or any change you’d like to see in your life, big or small.
“Women who behave, rarely make history.” -Rosa Parks.
I bought a t-shirt that says this. I get a lot of compliments on it. 🙂
The next day we headed west, driving through Selma, the starting point of the the famous Civil Rights March.
Something phenomenal just happened and I’m recording it immediately so I won’t forget any detail. Once again, I was on an airplane when this mystical experience took place. I had taken a few minutes to visualize and align my chakras. I was reminded to do this because my knee was hurting. I was rubbing it and visualizing it healing. In my mind’s eye, I noticed spheres of light were slowly forming and the longer I massaged, the more charged with energy I felt. I let the feeling take over and my hands began to do their own thing- pressing on certain points, moving in specific directions. When I was done, I sat up and felt the plane take off. I said a silent prayer to my angels to guide the craft safely. Whenever I call them, I imagine and feel their energy rush towards my head and shoulders. I sat back and felt my energy expand. The sensation was so strong, I couldn’t help but imagine I had wings that were spreading out from my shoulder blades and settling two feet or so around me. I made the connection between auras and wings. As I sat there, I thought to myself, “wow, I really feel energized… I feel… powerful…” every now and then I feel inclined to attempt telekinesis. So I looked right in front of myself at the switch on the seat that releases the table. I tried to make it move without success. A phrase came into my head that I had seen in the movie The Matrix. There is a scene where a gifted child is bending a spoon with his mind. He tells keanu reeves, “the trick is to remember that there is no spoon.” I also heard other voices in my mind saying, “you must BE the this. BECOME the that, be ONE with whatever, and so on…” I tried taking on that mentality. I wasn’t able to move the switch, but a different, unexpected effect took place.
I became the plane.
The tubular body of the plane felt like my rib cage. I could feel cold air on my “face” which was the nose of the plane. My metal wings were steady amid the whooshing atmosphere. I could feel all the little seats inside me. I was utterly frozen in awe. Seriously, I couldn’t move. So I just went with the feeling and tried to see what else I could experience. In my mind’s eye I flipped up all the dvd players, the front half of my body arched up slightly and then back into place as if I were stretching, and finding delight in flying fast through sky. Then I wondered, “if this is all me, and these certain parts are my body, then what part do the people play?” Then I saw everyone’s head glow golden and golden threads connected each of their heads. Together, our consciouness created the atmosphere. I began to send pink waves of translucscent positive energy from the front to the back of the plane. It looked as if a “scanner” was scanning the entire interior. It was really quite incredible. This lasted maybe 15-20 minutes…? The whole time I didn’t move an inch, but I noticed different muscles twitching involuntarily here and there. I decided to end the experience and retracted my transluscent pink energy from all areas of the plane back into my body. As soon as I did, I jumped slightly as I became mobile again.
Coming back to Atlanta after ten days spent in crisp earthgirl bliss was kind of a culture shock. People moved differently. They walked faster, talked harder, and certainly weren’t nearly as polite as Yooper folk. The energy was just more abrasive in general. It was a side of Atlanta I knew well, but had never brought to the surface for thorough analysis. Needless to say, it ran against the grain.
I had one day to pack before I left yet again for the airport to pick up Dad and begin our journey across the country. I think I was anxious. I slept a lot. Put off the final chores to the very end. It wasn’t until I drove out of my neighborhood with all my belongings scrunched in a tiny Honda that I began to smile uncontrollably, even giggle a little. Goodbye Roswell. Goodbye Georgia. I am fucking OUT of here!
Time went by too fast on my awesome trip to Marquette. I REALLY needed all that sun, lakewater, and fresh air. Thanks Dad, Christine, Jess, Mike, Indigo, Eli, Lucy, Big Boy, and everyone else I met along the way for making my trip refreshing and memorable! I look forward to seeing everyone again.
And now, I bid you farewell in traditional Yooper style. I’ve been told this is kind of a rite of passage for Marquettians, and after three visits I feel well acquainted with this laid-back, artsy, fun town.
SpiralsAndEyes 