The purification process has begun! – How to tame the incoming energies, feel at peace and regain your balance quickly and efficiently

Alethea Kehas:

Wonderful, in-depth information and tools on how to deal with the changing energies we’re experiencing right now:

Originally posted on Sacred Ascension - Key of Life - Secrets of the Universe:

the purification process

Yesterday the whole day as soon as I would close my eyes I would see a whole lot of angels swirling around me. I was shown many visions of what is to come. Many light beings are already here on earth and more are descending by the second. I was told that the clearing and purification process has begun! They are working relentlessly to prepare everyone for what is to come starting April 15th.

Many of you may find yourself floating through space, time may begin to speed up for you and then slow down significantly. What happened in the morning may appear to you as if it has been a few days since. Your body may begin to ache in various places, joints, muscles and heart are all greatly effected right now. Especially the HEART. Many of you may begin to feel heart palpitations. Please know that this is a…

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The Kiss of the Butterfly

A Butterfly from Another Day

A Butterfly from Another Day

Each year, on the first unseasonably warm day, I await the woodland butterfly. Today is a a particularly auspicious day. Not only is it the first day this spring that feels almost like summer, it’s 4-14-14 and the eve of the first lunar eclipse of the year, the Blood Moon. The air is charged with energy. The fog that held the morning in close embrace has lifted and the wind has taken reign of the air, howling it through the leafless trees and tugging at the clouds that keep threatening to block the sun. Oh, I do hope it wins its battle so we may view the Blood Moon tonight!

I am decidedly ungrounded today. There’s little to be done about it really. On days like this, I give into the forces. I love the feeling of magic, so I can’t say I was surprised, but rather delighted, when I saw my first butterfly of the year. The same species, the color of turned earth, that visits me each year on the first gloriously warm day.

It started as a passing thought, “I wonder if I’ll see a butterfly today,” as I made my way with the dogs into the forest. Then there was the man stumbling through the trees looking for a neighbor’s stolen bird feeder, bringing me back to the present. I knew the culprit before I asked. Bear. I told him I’d keep my eyes open for it, and ventured along the path with eyes alert.

The dogs and I didn’t walk far, just past the open field, slightly down the trail marked “Journey,” stopping at the vernal pond alive with the chorus of mating frogs. Daisy, my wise dog/teacher, stopped as she always does when she wants me to pay attention to Nature. Really, she didn’t need to today, as I was quite taken by the song of rebirth filling the air.

We never found the missing bird feeder, but about 50 feet before the entrance/exit to the forest, we met the butterfly. “There you are!” I exclaimed with delight, as she lifted wings to the air and danced a pirouette around my head. I became her Earth-bound companion, my heart souring with her, following her dazzling choreography in a the energy of pure bliss. This, to me, is what magic is all about.

The danced lasted mere minutes, perhaps five. I must confess, there were a few futile attempts to photograph my muse, but that clearly was not a purpose of this visit. Instead, I took with me the energy of her kisses. Three times, before she flew into another realm, she alighted on the top of my head, and I felt, ever so briefly, the flutter of her energy. I left the forest with eyes moist and heart lifted in gratitude.

Until we meet again.

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The Other Side of the Rainbow

Rainbow

I was a child of Doubt. I don’t remember playing with imaginary friends or fairies. I don’t remember believing in angels or a Universal Life Force/God. But, I wanted to, secretly. Everything I was told was not “real,” I imagined to exist. Inside the silence of my mind I created tiny winged beings flying amid the flowers. In the dark quiet of my bedroom I felt the heavy breath of spirits lurking beside me while I tried to sleep. Sometimes, secretly, I talked to a God I was told did not exist.

I think some of us need to forget in order to remember. I forgot who I was and where I came from at an early age, before memory imprints itself into the folds of the brain. Many of us forget our true, spiritual selves by the age of 7. As we learn to live in the world of our parents’ and society’s creation, we shed the aspects of self that do not conform to our perceived surroundings. The spirit guides, angels and fey that we used to play and commune with disappear into the invisible realm as our eyes close to the brilliance of frequencies too high to sustain belief.

There are moments, filled with a desperate hope, when I wish I could bring it all back, not so much for me, as I am remembering now what I have forgotten, but for my children and all children of our world who are forgetting. I wonder, as I looked at my practical preteen who loves fashion and sports, what happened to my little girl who used to close her eyes in pure bliss while she played and danced with “Raina.” When did my little boy stop going to sleep in room filled with colors only he could see? I didn’t intentionally will my children to lose their connection to the world of Spirit, but somehow, with the help of the artificial world we live in, I witnessed my children let go of the rainbow of magic.

How do I bring back their access to the realm of Spirit? Our children are brought up to believe in magic that is not real, only to discover that Santa Claus does not slide down the chimney on Christmas Eve, the Easter Bunny does not bring baskets of chocolates and toys, and the Tooth Fairy is not the one who saves their lost teeth. We do.

I struggle to make sense of a world of hypocrisy, while trying to retrieve for my children the real magic of life. We live in a world that has learned to fear the unseen forces that move through and around us. We do not trust what we can’t see, so we pretend it does not exist. Yet most of us believe in a universal life force from whence we all came into being. Why, then, is it so difficult for us to believe in a universal energy of Love? Why is it so difficult to believe that we are surrounded by sentient beings who share the same life force energy, as well as our innate desire for balance and love?

I have photographed my children dancing with fairies in the summer rain. I have channeled reiki energy into their restless bodies when they have struggled with sleep. Yet, they doubt what they don’t see. They doubt what is not commonly talked about on the TV, in classrooms, or among friends. I see my children’s struggle, I share it too. I am the “weird” mother they are both in awe of, and somewhat embarrassed by. In some ways it’s much easier for them to call me a writer, than it is to call me a healer who talks with and channels Spirt in myriad forms. I get it, though. I was that child too.

 

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The Wild Feline: Night Hunter

Wild cat

A Wild Cat in Captivity

I was going to write about the mouse as a messenger, but it was the cat in wild form who came to me last night. She appeared spotted in orange and gold, waiting for me to see her as I was pulled out of one distressing dream into another.

When I opened Ted Andrew’s book Animal Speak this morning, I knew why the feline messenger had made her presence known. Regarding the panther/leopard, he writes that she is a sign of “reclaiming one’s true power.” I had gone to sleep feeling frustratingly powerless. In truth it was not a major event that caused me to feel this way, but my “feelings” about the matter, which underlies the crux of every issue, were part of a deeper fear that needed my attention.

It’s little wonder my dreams were full of loss, the first heart-wrenching and followed by a series of events that seemed to spiral just beyond my control. When I woke I realized the circumstance that had so irritated me and made me feel powerless the night before was minor in comparison to the journeys of my dreams. It was suddenly no big deal, I knew I could easily find a solution.

All cats, both wild and domestic, carry the wisdom of the night. They connect us to our psychic gifts that are birthed out of the dark matter also known as the divine feminine wisdom. My messenger, as I mentioned above, was spotted. I had seen her before, a couple of years ago, in twinned form. She was young, but now she seemed older.

Each spot on the wild cat’s body was like an eye, pulling me within. Andrews writes, “All cats have binocular vision, magnifying images, and facilitating judgment of distances.” (pg. 295) My visitor wore a body of eyes the colors of the 2nd and 3rd chakras, pulling me into the fire inside as she reminded me that I am never powerless if I choose not to be.

The panther/leopard can signal a time of rebirth, as Andrews writes, “old longstanding wounds will finally begin to heal, and with the healing will come a reclaiming of power that was lost at the time of wounding.” (pg. 297) My dreams last night brought me back to my childhood and adolescence, to struggles where I gave away my power to my family and classmates. As the wild cat in my dream quietly stood by in observation, she reminded me it was time to reclaim what I had once given away.

For those of us who are used to having our power stripped away from us, it can be a frightening experience to reclaim what we have lost. The fear that our gifts will be ripped out of us lurks inside our memories, and we doubt our strength and abilities. Most of us never come close to knowing what powerful creators we are, especially women. We have learned to fear what makes us strong, because others have feared the brilliant flame that yearns for light inside of us. The panther/leopard/jaguar appears to quietly lead us home. She wears the powerful stealth of night, hunting her prey with a strength and skill not easily matched.

“The panther holds the promise of rebirth and guardianship throughout. It is the extra protection we need at those times. It is the symbol of power reclaimed from whatever darkness within our life has hidden it.” (Andrews, pg. 298)

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The Body of Night

IMG_2531I enter the dark body of night to heal. To recover the parts of me that have been lost to fear over lifetimes.

I’ve always enjoyed putting together puzzles. The more intricate and mysterious the art of creation, the more I am drawn into the process of discovery. I have found no better place to build the puzzle of self than at night, where I can slip into the inky abyss of darkness where everything exists. It can take some cunning and a good dose of courage to find what I am looking for. Night is the place where veils dissolve, and the landscape of the soul is laid bare. It is the place where mysteries blinded by the sun become tangible when we are brave enough to extend our grasp into the black abyss.

Each dream that unfolds through Night becomes a path with a promise of a gift, or many if we can find them hidden amid the shadows. The dreams that cause the greatest tremor of emotion within our “sleeping” form, often hold the most sought-after treasures. I have learned to love nightmares, for they lay bare those pieces that lurk in the crevices of self, which can only be found after putting the easy and obvious together. They are the stuff of the inside that likes to hide, deceptively camouflaged within an unassuming palette. Yes, it is these gems I know seek, for each piece recovered brings me closer to the whole self that is Love.

Love. That is, after all, what it is all about. This quest we are all on. It is said that to love another, we must first love ourselves. I believe that the more fully we love ourselves, the more fully we love others. I believe we can only love in others, what we love in ourselves, and when we are able to accept and unite those aspects of self that are mirrored uncomfortably in others, we finally achieve the whole self that is Love. When we do this, we are loving not the fear in the form of anger, injustice or abuse, but the aspect of universal self beneath it that we all share. The piece of self yearning to be whole that was once love/loved is still, in essence, love.

Now when I discover a piece of self that has become disconnected over (life)time(s), and has forgotten love in favor of the energy of fear, I rejoice. My dreams are a tool, they work with me, taking me down the paths of self-recovery. They lead me to the source, where the hand of fear tries to hide the light. The clues to how I got there are always found in the scenes. Past lifetimes are revealed with vivid faces, costumes and languages I have not encountered in this lifetime, interwoven with a present-day landscape. It is not my job to judge, but to accept. It is not my task to hold on, but to effortlessly let go. I am brought here to seek, to find, and unite into love. I have learned that our fears do make us stronger, when we accept them with understanding, release the energy that traps and reunite the lost love.

 

 

 

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The Mystery of Fox

The fox that came in the mail

The fox that came in the mail

How could I not write about the fox after reading Sue Vincent’s post last night, “Foxed.” Her words held the promise of magic I could not resist. Of course there was also the obvious tug from Spirit, who has shown me the fox in 3 different forms over the last 24 hrs.

Yesterday, after playing in the woods behind our home with a friend and our rather fox-like dog, Rosy, my daughter came in proclaiming she had found the remains of a fox half-exposed by the slowly melting snow. She had the pictures to prove it.

IMG_1485

The remains of a fox?

Later, I followed her outside, the entire family in tow as we studied the evidence. The small, strong jaw seemed about right to our untrained eyes, as well as the unmistakable red-orange fur found nearby. The cause of death, unknown, but we all made guesses. My children were willingly to bet it was a coyote (a common predator of the fox), my husband, in an attempt to temper any fears, suggested it may have died of old age.

We had a mystery on our hands that got me thinking not so much about how the remains of a fox ended up in our backyard, but about what the fox as a messenger really means. In his book Animal Speak, Ted Andrews observes that there are 21 species of fox. 21, as he notes, is the last card in the journey of Tarot. It is often referred to as “The World” card, a card of creation and all possibilities, which makes me think of the color orange that the fox wears both as camouflage and as a symbol of gifts held inside the second chakra.

The fox reminds us to go inside to that place where we create our life’s passions. It is an animal of mystery, rarely seen in the daylight hours, preferring the in-between times that are associated with magic and the fairy realms, when the veil between our worlds is thin. It awakens our passions and our extrasensory perceptions. The fox is a silent predator, able to move quickly with a stealth that is often unnoticed. It hears, sees and smells what most do not.

For those of us hoping to birth new creative energies, the fox can be our guide, helping us grow the magic safely tucked inside our “wombs.” It can guide us into other realms and help us see, hear and smell the more subtle, yet powerful energies around us as we discern with whom and in what to place our trust. When we are ready for “magic,” fox may appear to guide us.

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Orange

orange

When you look at the color orange, what do you see? Years ago, before I started working with the chakra centers in the body, I wrote a poem about an orange and compared it to love. Here is the poem, in revised format, with the essence still intact:

Orange

Love should be
like a ripe orange
before it is peeled. Thick,
heavy, sweet

When you turn
its bumpy surface
in your palm, there is
no beginning
no end

Love is the color of the sacred “womb” that resides inside all of us. It is the place where we grow our creative and sensual selves into being with the fire of our soul. The color of passion and love manifested in the form of our unique gifts, it is always present, yet sometimes hides.

I have been thinking and writing a lot about orange these days, as I rebirth dormant gifts held inside the second, or sacral chakra that vibrates in this hue. Rarely do I wear this bold color that tends to overwhelm my complexion, but there I was in a lovely boutique last Friday, buying a dress adorned with orange flowers.

orange flowers on dressOn Saturday I peeled sweet potatoes, carrots and gingers and cooked them into an orange soup. We are drawn to the colors that want to bloom inside of us. There is a reason why our bodies and senses crave certain palettes. I cook with orange to kindle the fire that hides in my belly. Today, my eye is drawn to the flames that warms my house as I nibble the flesh of mango and write, my orange dog staring me down, waiting for her walk.

Rosy, the orange dog

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