Believing is a big part of what I do. Although there was a time when I certainly didn’t believe in myself, my Guides or what I was being told about the Afterlife.
Today I was recalling that time when believing seemed to be a real effort. At the beginning of my mediumship, even though I was getting accurate information, I found it hard to trust that Spirits exsist. It took a lot of time, patience and many, many messages before I could accept their presence in my life. So I understand how hard it can be to believe in miracles. Those random happenings that resolve the challenge in front of me. As if by magic. Completely unannounced and unexpected. Miracles happen. I just never know when one will occur. That means it can be a frustrating waiting game when I require a miracle.
First of all I have to be in a position of believing something miraculous can happen. When I keep telling myself it’s not possible there really is no room for something special to happen. Because I’m blocking the possibility. Keeping wonderful stuff at bay. If I get into believing it can happen the next issue is my desire to control when and how. I know that most of us have a definite plan for what we want to have happen. I find myself wanting things to turn out in a certain way. By a precise time. So when it doesn’t I can get anxious and my belief wobbles. That’s the hardest part for me. When I get the wobbles. Because that can stop the miracle solution in it’s tracks.
It has taken me a lot of practice to let the Universe deliver what I require in the way it has to be. Letting myself remove my own expectations so I am open to all possibilities. Steeling myself to trust that everything will turn out exactly right. With each miracle that turned up I have stepped closer to believing I will always receive all of my dreams and desires. Miracles do happen. If I let them.
Day 607 of my blogging challenge
I know that we are currently going through a purification process. Next month we will be asked to rededicate ourselves to serving the greater good and working with all of our abilities to serve humanity.
I’ve been told that the re-dedication has to be with our whole authentic self and from the heart. No wonder my Guides have been encouraging me to receive as well as give. Only by making sure I balance both ends of things can I move forward. This evening my thoughts turned to why receiving is so hard. Especially for the people of the Lightworker generation. Perhaps it’s because I know how isolated we all feel when we are out of connection with one another. The unacknowledged pain of severed links still haunts me and many others. I remember the time before we became isolated individuals.
So the issue for me and most sensitive people is that we believe we have to give endlessly in an effort to restablish our connections to each other. And that it’s somehow wrong to receive until we are all one again. The result of this belief is I end up giving all of my energy to those who want handouts. The ones who never use what I give them. But just demand more. My thoughts over the last few years have been turning to another choice. That I help those who need hand ups. The ones who, with a little push of energy from me, will get themselves off and moving again. It means ignoring the ones who make me feel guilty, or that I should, must or ought to put them first.
In my thoughts I’ve started to realise that they are the ones who will never let themselves progress. If I’m not careful I get stuck in giving by giving to those who prefer to remain stuck in receiving.
When I step back I understand that the ones I can help are also the ones who want me to receive from them in my turn. The flow of energy is equal – though often given over a period of time. I see that we share the same thoughts about the benefit of being connected to one another. That there is a greater energy generated by two or more who are willing to share with each other. The service being demanded now from me is all about making positive energy connections. I contribute my abilities. As does someone else. And then another. Followed by another. What we give out we get back. Between me and all of these others strong energy links are formed so that we can act together.
I know that the greatest act we can do is to create, by living it, a connected sense of community. Giving and taking so that all of us heal from the pain of separation. From the absense of love. I also believe that when everyone has become so sensitive that they can feel another person’s pain we will finally stop all acts of violence or aggression. When hitting someone causes the hitter as much pain as the person receiving the blow I know our thought will fly to making peace with one another. I believe we will finally realise how much pain and fear we have generated for each other. At that point I’m sure we will be ready to change ourselves. And thus change our world.
I’m grateful for all of the conversations I have had today. Connecting with people, discussing doubts and asking why, has given me some interesting thoughts. I value these connections. The gifts of wisdom I receive from each person will continue to inspire my blogging.
Day 606 of my blogging challenge
It’s always wonderful to go away. But also fab to come home. Last night I sailed through choppy waters to get back to my home base. A storm at sea. It was another test.
Sometimes I need a break. I have a bit of a habit of forgetting to take time off. Then when I’m tired things pile up and it seems like I’ve sailed into choppy emotional waters. Over work can do that to all of us. Issues that are really no big deal can seem as if they have overwhelmed me. So being away has been a great chance to reconsider several things. Not least what dreams I have sent out into the world. And the way in which I am asking the Universe to manifest them. When I’m wobbly I sometimes feel like I’ve ended up with nightmares instead. That’s not the case. However I can convince myself that it is in the way I focus on minor details.
That’s what I was reminded of overnight. The sea was rather rough. I’m not a good sailor at the best of times. But even the realatively small swell last night had me feeling sick. It was much too choppy for me. In fact it reminded me of the times when my emotions made me feel like I was drowning. Or sick to my stomach. And I thought how much I now long for a safe harbour. For peace and ease. Even eventually a calm crossing to somewhere new. Drifting in and out of a restless sleep my dreams were full of what I desired. Yet crossed with what I do to block myself. How I must change what I feel about myself to get me where I really want to go.
On a physical level I was being asked to endure or even relish the journey. And it’s the same emotionally and mentally. To fulfill my dreams I have to sail calmly on through the choppy water of change. I have to let the course adjust to the conditions. Then I will find myself in a safe harbour once more.
Day 605 of my blogging challenge
I’m doing an early blog today. Tonight I am leaving Orkney so I may not get chance to be online on the ferry. It’s been an interesting process of discovery. Discovering a deeper peace.
Visiting the ancient sites has reminded me very forcefully how little human beings have actually changed. What I want out of my life seems to be the same as the people from so long ago. To live peacefully a full life. To enjoy the fruits of my work. And to see my child grow up to a life of her own. Leaving aside the natural challenges of life – illness, times of famine, lack of water and shelter – the people here seem to have lived that peaceful exsistence. Until it was time for these people to leave their sites. There is no information as to why. But in leaving they also gave us some interesting puzzles to unlock.
I wonder what people will think of our exsistence in a couple of thousand years. Will my legacy to my daughter’s children be lost somewhere down the line? Will I and everyone alive now become a puzzle to the humans of the future? Especially if technology fails and records perish. Leaving behind the drinks cans, plastic bags and remains of the steel in our skyscrapers. What will be made of this time? I hope my desire for peace for all will be delivered. Because that ensures humanity continues. I believe it may also help us to evolve beyond the point we are currently at. How would it be to be peaceable for a thousand years?
That’s the hope I have been reminded of this week. Leaving Orkney I’m taking with me a sense of continuity. Life really does continue no matter what.
That thought has also been challenging my inner world. I feel I will be leaving behind something else when I go. Watching the cruise ships and ferrys dock and leave I’ve been thinking about the way I transport my fear around with me. I know it’s hard to admit, even when on holiday, that I might still be worrying something over in my mind. But it’s true. I feel it’s what most of us do. My conditioning about what is ok or not ok keeps tripping me up. Letting myself relax when there are future bills to be paid keeps catching me. How strange. Because I have no need of this pattern. One thing I do know is that my life will go on bills or no.
Yet it seemed, when I was chatting to others, that we all seem to share the challenge of stepping back. Some of the people from the cruise ships wanted to pack in as much as they could. They didn’t want to waste time or money. Because taking time out seems like shirking a responsibility. Leaving everything aside seemed to be hard for them to do. Yet they told me that they enjoyed rushing from place to place. Taking photos for when they got home. Half and hour for this place. An hour for that. I felt their pace was fast and furious. Not at all peaceful. What will they really remember? Would it be peace?
Our ancestors in the Neolithic times worked when they had to and rested in the seasons when they couldn’t. Will the people of the future go back to that pattern? I’ve been working on inner peace. Stripping away another layer of conditioning. Leaving behind more fear.
Day 604 of my blogging challenge
My visit today was to the Tomb of the Eagles where there was a real chance to think about the rituals that surrounded death five thousand years ago. And still do today.
The Tomb contained thousands of bones. Some were stored in separate chambers. Most were disarticulated. There were no whole skeletons found. Yet only eighty-five skulls were in the structure. Far less than could account for all of the bones. As the guide explained to us the death rituals of these Neolithic people are believed to have included sky burials. Bodies of the dead were left outside until the soft parts of the body had decayed. Then they were apparently dismembered and placed in the Tomb. After about eight hundred years of use the roof of the Tomb was deliberately collapsed. Perhaps it had fulfilled it’s purpose. Or was full. Or the rituals had changed.
Archeologists try to understand these practices. But it’s hard to make sense of the burial practices when there are no records. What was the pottery for? Or the eagle tallons? And the animal bones or stone tools? It seems that lots of different theories have been proposed . Especially since on the same site there is a Bronze Age structure which has also defied an explanation. It actually has piped water into a pool in the centre. It seems the water was heated for some purpose too. I had lots of questions. Was it a bath house? A sauna? The place to give birth? Somewhere like a mortuary to prepare a body? At this distance from that era it is impossible to be sure. Yet rituals seem to be at the heart of both buildings.
Which made me think about our own rituals around death. What it’s acceptable to do. And what we no longer practice in honouring the loved one who has passed over.
I thought about the deaths in my own family. As the news spread people gathered to grieve together. To talk about the person’s life and wish them well on their new journey. My loved ones were placed in a box that was filled with objects to remember their life. A piece of jewellery, photos, poems, significant belongings. Because we wanted them to be accompanied by their ‘things’. And the reminders of all of us. Then those boxes were placed in the ground. Some families practice a fire burial. My family practices an earth burial. Prayers were said. Eulogies given. Songs sung. All of these practices show love and respect for the dead person.
I reflected on how similar the rituals of death still were. Thousands of years afterward I know we still want to honour our dead. Because it feels like the right thing to do. That’s why we worry that we might not be doing it right. I know that many people come to see me concerned that their loved one in Spirit may not be happy with the memorial they were give. Then I can reassure them that the rituals we follow are always appreciated by our love one. Whatever happens during the proceedings. It made me realise that I can only do my best. At the end of a loved one’s life I have to honour them in whatever way possible. Rituals change slightly over time. But it seems the core is always a demonstration of love.
I stood on the headland by a standing stone. It is the memorial to the farmer and his wife who discovered and preserved the Tomb of the Eagles. How fitting that their passing has been marked in this way. Because their passion for the distantly past has preserved it for all of us.
Day 603 of my blogging challenge
Rest is very important. It’s a point I make over and over when I’m mentoring. So today I’ve taken a rest day. And perhaps to give myself time to think.
Of course taking a holiday break gives me a chance to step back from my work. To move out of my life as it is and do something different. I also enjoy the time I get to reflect when I take a break. Because I can think about those things that are going right with my life. And what isn’t. Interesting these things often come up in the events of my holiday. Take noise for an example. I hadn’t realised how much I enjoy quiet time. At home and in my Centre I am very lucky to enjoy the absence of most noise whenever I want. Staying in a hostel full of noisy people has been a challenge. Rest has sometimes been hard to find.
The walls are very thin. The communal areas can get very busy. The doors bang continually in the morning as people get up, shower, have their breakfast and set off for the day. One or two late night parties have taken place overhead. When the silence descended today I breathed a sight of relief. I’ve had a couple of moments of praying for deafness. And of wondering if people are aware of being inconsiderate. I realise how precious silence has become to me. In the quiet I can tune into that inner voice of guidance. The Guides can draw closer. In this relaxed space we talk about all sorts of things.
I’ve also enjoyed a rest after all the walking. My body loves being active. Wind, rain or shine it doesn’t matter. Striding along gives me more time to think.
Ideas jump into my head. Wondering and wandering. Reviewing my life as a journey like my walking. The past couple of days I’ve enjoyed thinking about what my life would have been thousands of years ago. Probably lots more walking, of course, but still a journey from birth to death. Maybe a few more children than in this life. Probably grandchildren by now, if not great-grandchildren. Of course there might not have been much in the way of medical care so childbirth could have been a hazard. It reminded me that my body matters too.
After I watched the ferries arriving and departing this afternoon I sat down for a coffee. In a quiet cafe I sat with my Passion Planner to review last week. It’s something I do every Monday even if I’m on a rest day. I find the commitment to looking back over my week helps me shift any thoughts or feelings that I’ve got stuck with. It also clears my head for the week in front of me. The ferries got me thinking. When I am on a boat there is nothing to do but rest. Surrounded by all that water there is nowhere else to go. I am contained within the area of the boat. Like my life is contained in my diary most of the time.
I am contained by my passion for what I do. Yet I can also find those trips to other places that help me relax. As well as recharging my batteries taking time out refreshes my ideas and purpose for my life. Well deserved rest!
Day 602 of my blogging challenge
Today I’ve been blown along the Neolithic Highway. A road between two lochs that seems to be full of standing stones and Neolithic villages. What was the draw for our ancestors?
All along this highway it seems they were encouraged to settle, build large monuments and then, after about a thousand years, to move on. The road winds from a settlement that is now on the edge of the sea, but was once well inland, down past two stones circles and two more settlements. I’m sure there are many more buildings still to be discovered. Was it the promise of fresh water? Or that seals come to shelter their young in the safety of an inland lake? Was it the warmer climate giving good ground to grow crops?
There are a lot of questions that I would love to have answers to. As I looked at the precise building of the settlement of Skara Brae, mirrored further down the road but in much bigger style at the Ness of Brodgar, understanding these lives seemed far out of reach. Because they left no recognisable records. May be the stone circles were all they felt would be needed? I sat for a while on a fallen stone in the Ring of Brodgar. I wanted to tune in. But today wasn’t the day. Too many people. Too much activity. Lots of layers of energy from all the people who have visited in the past. Now the highway is not so much a thin place as a well travelled road.
I love travelling to thin places. Where the highway seems to take me back to another time. Or sideways into a different dimension.
But I also feel that our thin places become less so when we enter them as unaware spectators. Not being mindful about the impact of our energy. I would like to sit in the Ring of Brognar under a full moon. Then I’m sure the energy would be more as it once was several thousand years ago. And I can journey to life as it once was on this highway. To be a ghost in their world. Looking in from the edges of their perception. I wonder what they would make of me? Or my time? And all of the traffic that now zooms up and down this Neolithic road.
As the wind tried to blow me off my feet I enjoyed the sudden fall of rain. It freshened the energy of the road. I felt that I was in two places at once. Here on the edge of the loch two lifetimes finally met in one moment. Another woman once walked this highway between her settlement and the standing stones. Whatever her purpose she felt the wind at her back and the rain in her face. One day, in her turn, there will be another woman who experiences these same feelings. In her future I hope she will wonder about all of the women who have walked the Neolithic highway. And remember that all of us are connected.
I am here because my mother was here. She was here because her mother had her. In a line unbroken back to the settlements along this road. Orkney reminds us to keep on moving down the road.
Day 601 of my blogging challenge
I’ve been very aware today that I have to write my six hundredth blog tonight. A long way from the thirty days I originally challenged myself. As each day has ticked by I’ve been surprised how I’ve stuck at it.
That got me thinking this afternoon as I stood on Stromness harbour. I watched six sail boats out in the wet weather practicing manoeuvres in the bay. Much more of a physical challenge than my writing. Then to visit the home of Eliza Fraser who was shipwrecked after travelling to Australia. Captured by aborigines she turned her challenge into a media show (or what passed for one in eighteen thirty six) and had an island named after her. A life full of all sorts of challenges then. Not least when it seemed she had really been rescued rather than captured.
I also found Login’s Well where many explorers took their drinking water on board before setting off. Arctic challenges, Hudson Bay Company ships sailing with trade goods, Caprain Cook off to discover new lands. Lots of brave people taking on the challenges of the sea. Now those places are as familiar to us as our own towns. Because of the words written about them. Also now because of the wide reach of the internet. I wondered what those pioneers would make of my life. Of most of our lives. I can take a large ferry across those seas. Big tankers ply their trade. My biggest challenge getting here has been to get on the right trains.
Better still I can fly across the world to any continent I wish. Is that six or seven? It depends on how you define them. That’s true about challenges too.
My challenge with my blogs is wrapped around words. It’s not particularly physical. But I’ve found it has stretched my emotions. Especially with my determination to stick with it on the days when my thoughts went into hiding. Or I felt like there was nothing noteworthy to write about. When I felt like no one could possibly be reading the blogs. And when I was working on my book as an extension of my blogs. Some days my writer’s block was overpowering. Yet I needed to keep going.
This evening I stood in the late evening sunshine and watched a Pipe Band. I thought about all of the discipline required to make bagpipes sound good. The hours of practice and gradual progression. Six drummers stepped forward and gave a display of timing, teamwork and passion. Their challenge had kept them going until they could work in unison. My writing has challenged my discipline and my passion. I’ve also had to learn to work in unison with my words. We are a team. Describing my life. Exploring my experiences. And giving me space to work out my next step on my spiritual journey.
I have learned to love my writing enough to keep going. That’s important. Because I still have four hundred and one more blogs to write. Plus a book or six. What will your next six challenges be?
Day 600 of my blogging challenge
Looking around the buildings of Kirkwall today I started to think about ancient times. Not only the lives of people in Orkney five hundred years ago but also of three thousand years ago.
This chain of islands has so much history to offer. Of course so have many places all over the world. It’s just that sometimes I forget to stop and notice. I guess it’s the same for everyone. Living takes up all the time and space I have. Busy going here, doing that, meeting them. Finding a way to keep a roof over my head. Wanting to ensure my daughter and I can eat, be safe, or warm and dry. Looking for a purpose and meaning in my life. Was it the same in ancient times?
I looked around the Cathedral today. There were plenty of grave stones with memento mori inscriptions. The reminder that death comes to us all. At the Earl’s Palace the shell of the building remained. The Earl himself only enjoyed it for a few years as he was forced to give it up in 1609. To the Archbishop who had a palace already. The Earl was later executed for rebellion. Surrounding these monuments are a network of small streets made up of little terraced houses lining the harbour. Two big cruise ships had docked at the ferry port. So the streets were also full of visitors being shepherded around the town by the tour guides.
All of us taking in the ancient buildings. The quirky town. Trying to get a feel for a life gone by. Photographing the graves of the long dead.
I wondered what people in those burial plots thought about the Afterlife. Certainly there had been a shift from the Viking tradition of many gods and goddesses to Christianity which focused one one god alone. Then in later centuries the disputes between Catholic and Protestant factions. But I was thinking much further back. What about the people who had a Neolithic existence on these islands? Our ancient ancestors may have had a goddess tradition. The purpose or meaning of their lives could have been from a different perspective than mine.
But I am sure that they also lived with the same focus as me. Keeping a roof over their heads, finding food and warmth, sharing with others. So I know they also had to work to make these things happen. And they also died. Their lives had an ending too. I find that the most grounding of all thoughts. We are continuing a basic pattern that has lasted for many thousands of years. I doubt that it will be destroyed overnight. Whatever happens the remains of ancient times remind us of the enduring human experience. To live, to love, to reproduce and to die. And to pass something on for the next generation.
Because we endure. What ancient monuments show is that we survive. They are a powerful reminder to me of the hope I have for humanity. We can overcome anything.
Day 599 of my blogging challenge
I’ve been up and about since five am this morning. Taking a series of trains to get over to the Orkney isles. Further north than I’ve ever been. Heading northward to discover a new land.
Yet I also feel called to this place. Perhaps I’m about to discover one of my past lives? Before heading northward I’ve had several days of a niggling anxiety. Everything has been planned. But I couldn’t help feeling that something was going to go wrong. The fact that everything has gone so smoothly today has been a great delight. After all what could really go wrong? What was I imagining? I’m not even sure I know now I’m nearing the end off this all day journey. We have even been blessed with a calm sea. Great for someone like me who suffers sea sickness if the waves look like they are going to be higher than three inches.
So what is the journey northward about? It started when I watched a TV programme about an archeological dig on Orkney.
At a place called the Ness of Brodgar. A site that apparently pre dates the pyramids and Stonehenge. Older than Ggantija in Malta. That caught my attention. I’ve been to Malta to the temple several times. And visited the Hypogeum temple too. The sense of Divine Feminine energy was very strong in Malta. I wondered if it would be the same in Orkney. Then they suggested that the stone circles, like the one called the Ring of Brodgar, were the first known monuments of this kind in the country. The circles spread from Orkney down the rest of the UK.
Of course it made perfect sense that I wanted to see and sense for myself if there was any Goddess energy still left in these places. The waves of energy around us at the moment are returning out focus to our own feminine energy. As human beings we have both feminine and masculine energy in all of us. A part to create and a part to make that creation real. I know we have been stuck in the ‘making it real’ part for far too long. For thousands of years creativity has been hedged about with structures that hinder the intuitive leaps forward that are at the very heart of that creativity. It’s become very hard to think the unthinkable. Let alone make sure it happens.
This northward journey can help me connect back to a different point of creativity. If I can step into that ancient energy.
That is the key. If there is a past life connection of any kind I hope to release any karmic patterns that prevent me from accessing my creativity. I’d also like to tune into the background energy to understand where these more northward peoples came from. What their history and heritage was. That’s why I’m excited about going to see the dig site. And I never know what else I might be asked to do. The fact that I’m going tells me that the Spirit World will most likely have a bit of work for me to do too. Probably on myself. But I never know. I might be there for service to someone else too.
Yes it is a holiday. Some time out for me. But I love my work with my Guides. They are taking me northward because they know I will enjoy it. And if they feel they can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, they will certainly do do. I feel like this long journey is all part of the process. We could have flown here. Or had an overnight stop. But when I was planning the trip I thought about the journey our ancestors must have made. In boats on the open and uncertain North Sea. No power but the wind in the sails and oars if becalmed. It must have been a much more epic journey than today.
Northward it is then. Adventure awaits. I’m ready to explore.
Day 598 of my blogging challenge