Possibilities

Perhaps you have traveled to a foreign country where you soaked in the local color, the sights, and smells, and you loved it, yet all around you heard languages that sounded like clanking tin. Nothing made sense. Then by some quirk of fate, you run into an English speaking person. Wham-o, an instant friend. You jabbered away at something like back home and where you’re from and how it is traveling. 

They spoke your language.

That happens once in a while at social gatherings—we find an instant friend. 

Someone who speaks our language. 

We search the web and are usually attracted to something familiar.

Oprah speaks of “ah ha” moments, a moment when something clicks. It is a piece of a puzzle we have wondered about or it is a concept we hadn’t considered. Wow. Ah ha, I knew that, I just didn’t piece it together. Something familiar triggered it.

Aren’t we all looking for puzzle pieces that can make sense of our lives, or of the great mysteries of the universe, or how to handle difficult situations? 

I once heard a psychologist tell about being assigned as a therapist to boat people, refugees. She knew she wasn’t equipped to deal with the horrors many of them had endured, leaving their home, their people, their land ravished by war or some disaster.
However, when she spoke with them, they said such things as “I met this guy on the boat, do you think he likes me?’

See, people aren’t so different,  And affairs of the heart are high on the list of concerns.
There were Shamans of old, wise men who did know more than the rank and file, and then Fakers came in and made a muddle of it. 

Rather like today.

But maybe we can sort it out, what’s real, what’s not. 

What to choose?

The familiar, or the unfamiliar?

Long ago when I was into Egyptian lore, I read that when a stranger wandered into their village, the Egyptians would ask that person who their god was. 

They didn’t care. It was not a test. They just wanted to know. These inquiring people believed that God had so many aspects that all was possible.” 

Are we into survival or into a belief in possibilities?

I experienced a crack in conscious this past week when I watched a YouTube sent to me by a fabulous Wish on White Horses reader.  It was The Three Amigos, a question and answer session with Gregg Braden, Joe Dispenza, and Bruce Lipton.*
You know how we can have our set of beliefs, and we keep recycling them until they become cemented in place? 

A long time ago Dr. Ighaz Semmelweis (1865) declared that the reason woman got and often died of childbed fever, was because doctors didn’t wash their hands after autopsies, but went straight to examining a woman in labor. Germs had yet to be discovered, but he had a piece of the puzzle. He felt that the doctors had some cadaverous material on their hands. 

The doctors felt that because they, being illustrious gentlemen, couldn’t possibly have dirty hands. Semmelweis was ridiculed and ended up in an asylum. Now he is called “A savior of women.”

We need a crack in consciousness once in a while to let in a new thought.

Mine came when I heard Gregg Braden talk about  “The field.”

The field, says Braden, is where all experiences lie. I’m new to this and found it fascinating, but since I don’t know much about it, this is a teaser. If you have more to add, feel free.

Scientists now believe that space is not empty, but filled with “Dark matter.” Not dark meaning sinister, just not seen, therefore dark. And light cannot find it.
So how did they find it? 

Gravity, and other measurements to complex for me. Like how in the heck can they weigh the universe? 

Gregg says the field holds all our collective experiences and that we can access it. There are proteins on the skin that act like antennas that can reach into the field.
(Is this the Akashic Records?)

Braden calls this field, “The Divine Matrix,” a primal web of energy that connects our bodies to the world and to everything in the universe.

It opens the door to a powerful and mysterious possibility.


*https://youtu.be/P_FIYwg2oU4


P.S. I found the perfect watch for me.

August? What’a-’ya- Mean it’s August?

I’m anxious to see the cover art for my book The Frog’s Song. They say the proofs will be available for my review at the end of August—one good reason to say, “Hi August.”

And I’m excited for my publisher Regal Publishing (the house that Jaynie built).  Jaynie Royal is a force to be reckoned with. Regal has recently signed with IPG (Independent Publishing Group) a trade distributor for on-the-ground sales.

Imagine getting into Costco—don’t know if that will happen for me, but I can imagine it) plus, Regal has attracted the attention of Forward Reviews, a Purple Cow, Blue Ocean company.

If you saw a Purple cow standing in a field, wouldn’t you want to tell somebody?  (Purple Cow is the name of Seth Godin’s book.) And regarding a blue ocean, if your water is running blood-red with competition, wouldn’t you want to move to blue waters?

Long ago when I was into horse training I learned from #Pat Parelli, a horse gentler, that whatever everyone else is doing, do the opposite.  And I learned from my horse that she would go where I placed my focus, no reins required. 

Amazing.

I wonder how I can apply that to my business.

Focus—that’s good. Maybe I will go where I place my focus.

 I’m scared though.

Seth Godin wrote: "The growth of audiobooks is outpacing reading.”

We can still read though, he says, but pushing ourselves through a chapter is difficult.

And here I am writing words.

 

I like to read. I like to hold a book. I like to smell books. I like to feel their paper—and some of the covers these days feel like silk.

Don’t you sometimes wonder what happened to books, and when did bread disappear from our table?

I don’t know if thinking back is romancing the time or wanting to preserve it. Place it in a Mason jar and put it in the pantry I guess. It might be opened at a later date and found useful.     

Remember when you went to the library, and the librarian shushed you, but you cased the joint and found treasurers? Ray Bradbury educated himself by starting at one side of the library and reading around it.

Now the internet can serve that same purpose.

It’s not better or worse, just different.

Remember when you went to record stores, and comic book shops and inspiration was out in the world, rather than at your desk. It had to be sought out, in museums, in the forests, and in picking up shells from the beach.

Am I showing my age?

My hero.

 Ray Bradbury