Across America in 28 Hours

I recently decided to take a road trip across the United States from Florida to California. Actually, it was more or less a return trip, but I didn't know it would be so when I began the trip about a month and half ago. I had this idea that I was going to continually travel and make money along the way, but that just didn't pan out, and I encountered some health issue that required the attention of my personal doctors who are all in Santa Barbara, CA. I began this new journey on a Tuesday, but I had no idea it would actually conclude the next night, or that one could really drive the entire length of the US from coast to coast in 28 hours. Of course, I took many breaks along the way, but I did not stay in any one place for more than a couple hours, nor did I stay in a single motel or other accommodation at all. I kept thinking I would, but it somehow never materialized.

I left from Melbourne, FL on a sunny and humid morning around 8:00 am. I cruised north on I-95 toward Jacksonville and it wasn't too far up the road that I saw something that was unusual for me, though I suppose it's a common enough sight for people who live in Florida. On the side of the road was a group of pigs calmly grazing in the grasses, and, no, this isn't a euphemism for policemen. I saw big, fat oinkers just hanging out without a care in the world and not in the least bothered by all the cars whizzing by. There were about 8-10 brown boars. Evidently, the FL wild pig has been known to charge a car or two, but are also hunted by the locals. Much later that night, I would be driving through Texas along the I-10 where I saw hundreds of wild deer also calmly grazing along the side of the road; however, I also saw lots of deer carnage all over the road too. In fact, it felt like a war zone. I've never seen quite so much roadkill as I witnessed in Texas and not just deer, but they were by far the largest of the kills. There were all manner of creatures dead on the roads including possums, coons, armadillos, birds and more besides. Some of the kills must have happened just before I came on the scene as there was fresh blood and parts all over the road. On one occasion, I had to dodge a deer body that seemed to have been skinned just shortly before I got to it. Yikes, indeed! 😱

Somewhere deep in Louisiana, or, maybe it was just north of New Orleans, in a town called Grosse Tete (Gross Tit?) I saw a sign for the famous Tiger Cafe and felt I had to go. It was connected to a truck stop and I needed fuel anyway. I guess there's a story behind it. Seems the original owner used to have an actual tiger there he adopted from a zoo or something. However, there no longer is a tiger there, nor do I believe is it owned by the original dude. It was a pretty typical old diner looking kind of place all decked out in purple, which, of course, isn't so typical for a diner. Upon entering, it was pretty empty, but would be full by the time I left. I was told to sit anywhere, so I walked around and found a 2 top. A server came along and gave me the purple menu with a tiger's picture on the cover. I perused the cajun fare which had a lot of deep-fried seafood and gumbo delicacies. I decided on red beans and rice with alligator sausage. Now, I make some claim to being vegetarian, but I allow myself seafood since I was raised on it growing up in Florida. It's a dumb rationalization, because my family ate red meat too, but I don't today. Also, I decided alligator was seafood, but I'm not sure it really qualifies as such. I think I just wanted to try it. It seemed exotic and very cajun. The dish consisted of a giant bowl of tender rice and big red beans topped with onions and 2 large alligator sausages. There were 2 big pieces of corn bread on the side as well. In my mind, I told myself I didn't have to eat the whole thing and that I could, in fact, save some for later. Nope. I inhaled it all. Later, I decided I could have been just fine without the alligator. It wasn't anything special, and had I not known it was gator, I probably would have thought it was just regular sausage. Although, all together, as a dish it was delicious. When I left, I felt impregnated with food, but it didn't stop me from eating my way across the US anyway.

I don't know if it's the time of year, but my car seemed to be splattered with more bugs than seemed natural. At one point early in the journey, I pulled off at a rest stop somewhere in the Florida panhandle, or maybe it was in Mississippi. Anyway, it was the cleanest rest stop I ever saw and manned by one lone gentleman who was cleaning the windows at the time. It was around 11:00 pm, now come to think of it, I must have been in Louisiana because I stopped to pee and brush my teeth after my cajun feast. I didn't notice it when I left my car, but when I returned I saw just how besieged it had been by bugs. It was covered in bug splatter everywhere, most especially the windshield and mirrors that were nearly opaque with bugs bodies. How did I even see? I went back inside and asked the nice attendant if I could borrow some of his window cleaner and a paper towel to wipe my windows a bit. He actually gave me one of his cleaning rags and the bottle of window cleaner he had been using. Unfortunately, once I cleaned the windows, mirrors, and the headlights which needed some attention also, that man's rag was just gross. I returned it and his bottle of cleaner with my deepest appreciation, but I warned him to consider throwing the rag away. He told me not to worry, but I did all the same. 😕

Have you ever been to a Walmart at 3:00 am? I had pulled off the I-10 somewhere in Texas to find a rest room. There was a rest stop but nestled right behind it was a Walmart and I suddenly had a craving for something to snack on. In the car, I had come equipped with bananas, dates, and crackers, but I had a craving for something else. The store was completely deserted except for staff who were stocking shelves. I wondered through the bakery and the grocery isles in search of my craving, which I discovered what it was once I found something that seemed to embody it. To the employees, I probably seemed like a drunk in search of something to soak up the nights embellishments, or a someone on something looking for a foodie fix. I would pick something up, examine it closely and try to consider if it was what I was craving. Now, I'm kind of a health nut too, so I had to read all the labels and see just what it was I would be eating. Most items went right back onto the shelves. After looking in almost every isle and coming up empty, I was about to leave empty handed and just make do with bananas, dates, or crackers when I came down the breakfast isle and spied Kind bars. For some reason, they seemed to be just what I wanted and after checking out the label, they also seemed to be made with the proper "healthy" ingredients. I got the peanut-butter breakfast bars made with whole rolled oats and real peanut-butter. Unfortunately, they weren't nearly as good as it sounded in my head. They were actually kind of bland, which was probably due to the lack of refined sugar or hundreds of milligrams of salt normally included in breakfast bars. However, that didn't stop me from eating them all either. Perhaps I thought they would get better, or perhaps I ate out of boredom. Probably the latter. By the time I reached the California coast, I had eaten nearly everything in the car and also bought a bag of trail mix at a Love's truck stop somewhere along the way.

Normally on these types of trips, I make it a point to avoid any large cities especially during rush hour, but, somehow on this one I managed to hit 2 of the worst cities to drive in right at rush hour. I had originally considered taking the I-10 only as far as Lafayette, Louisiana and then heading north to Shreveport to catch the 20 across to Tyler, TX and then going northwest to Amarillo and getting on the 40 back to California. Well, I missed the turn off for Shreveport due to traffic and road construction, which there was also tons of all throughout the trip. I ended up taking the I-10 all the way to Los Angeles, which was the last place I wanted to be, much less have to drive in. I also had to pass through Phoenix, AZ, which I had never driven in before. I actually liked Phoenix - the look of the city - but the I-10 was a parking lot when I got there. Later, in L.A., I managed to get off the 10 and side tracked through Palm Springs, which I liked the look of too, having never been there before, but I eventually had to get back on the 10, which wasn't so much a parking lot as a race track. Thankfully, my Jetta is a very agile little car and its turbo engine comes in quite handy when one is expected to drive like a race driver just to keep up with the traffic. I can't quite describe my glee when I finally came to the 101, which is really the only highway I'm familiar with in all of California, because it's the only highway throughout most of Santa Barbara where I live. Of course, when I arrived back in SB, there was some kind of major road work being done on the 101 in Carpinteria and the city actually had the freeway completely shut down. I was diverted onto the city streets where I followed a series of detour signs all the way to the north side of town before I was allowed back onto the 101. I finally arrived home at 12:00 am 28 hours after I began my trip in Florida only the day before. I had driven from Chicago to Florida in 24 hours once or twice when I was living there many years ago, so I knew this type of travel was possible. But, who knew, one could cross the length of the US and survive it to tell about it. I think I'm delirious from the experience still. 🤪

Revolving Dreaming Door

Ever have one of those nights where you remember not one, but many dreams and each one had its own unique character and story, kind of like going round and round through a revolving door of dreams? Last night was one of those nights for me. My friend, Andrea, would say I was traveling all night, astral traveling, perhaps, or just traveling the mindscape. I've written before about psychic dreaming and how the quality of those dreams is different from other ones, but, in a way, all of my dreams have taken on a psychic quality of late. Or, perhaps, lucid is a better term. Even though many of the dreams I have embody a kind of fantastical quality as will be evidenced below, they also have this very real quality where the laws of reality as are known while I'm in a conscious state don't seem to apply in the same way in the unconscious. All of this, of course, is my own theory based on my experience as I perceive it. Granted, I've studied and read a lot on many metaphysical subjects including dreams, but I'm not one to interpret dreams in any psychological way. I prefer to allow them their own space in my overall experience and to simply enjoy the experience. The following is a run down of last night's dreamworld experiences.

The first one that comes to mind had a bit of the nightmare in it. It was one of those dreams where at first you do not even realize you are dreaming. I was laying in my bed all comfy and snug as a bug in my room exactly as it is when I'm in the conscious state. It was just as I was falling asleep that I felt something climb up onto the mattress behind me and crawl under the fitted sheet. I felt this without actually seeing it. I was kind of scared to even move. I felt, whatever it was, was small and something like a mouse came to mind. It seemed to make a beeline for my lower back where it nestled in and I could actually feel this critter resting against my back under the covers. At this point, I lied there contemplating what I should do. I seriously considered trying to ignore it and just drift off to sleep, which seems irrational in and of itself. Somehow, in my mind, I actually considered this experience may not be real at all, but I was unnerved by the fact that I could feel this thing against my back. I also was concerned that if there actually was a critter there and I rolled over on it in my sleep, it might bite me. At some point, I crossed the door between the unconscious and conscious. The fear or anxiety became too great and I jumped up out of bed. I reached over to the night stand and flipped on the light. I turned back toward the bed and carefully pulled back the sheets to examine the area where I thought the creature to be. Nothing stirred, so I gently felt around on top of the sheets, all the while expecting something to suddenly shift or dart away. However, there wasn't anything there. Now, usually when this kind of thing happens I have trouble getting back to sleep or even back into my bed, but I must have been quite tired last night because I simply turned the light off and slipped back into my comfortable spot. I pulled the covers securely around myself and soon went back through the revolving dreaming door.

Next I found myself back in Chicago, where I lived for 17 years. I was in my apartment, not my actual apartment, but it was mine in this dream. Truthfully, this apartment was way better than any place I ever lived in while in Chicago. It was more like a townhouse. I was in the foyer and dressed for winter, heading out the door as the dream commenced. I went across the street, which was lined with Victorian brownstones, and over to where I knew my friend, Andrea, lived. Her car was parked in front of her place on the street. It had one of those keypads on the door that you could use to unlock it if you knew the code, which I seemed too. Evidently, we had an arrangement where I could use her car's cassette deck whenever I wanted to listen to cassettes, which I don't think I've done since the early 80s. I opened her car's door and reached for the radio where I pressed another button and the cassette deck popped out. I extracted it, closed the car's door and made my way back over to my apartment. As soon as I got back inside, I could see Andrea coming over to my place dressed in her yellow down coat and orange scarf. I figured she had seen me take the cassette deck and needed it back for some reason. However, I guess I wasn't ready to relinquish it so easily. I decided to pretend I wasn't there or didn't hear her knocking at the door. She knocked a couple of times and then tried to open the door. I suppose we had that kind of relationship where we could just walk into each other's places. It was at this point that I realized I had not locked the door behind me, so I reached forward and tried to hold it shut against her trying to open it. She was able to push it open about half a foot before I was able to push it closed again. Well, now she knew for sure I was inside, but that didn't stop me from continuing to try and keep the door shut against her. I placed my foot at the threshold to act as a doorstop and tried to hold my ground, but I guess she put some strength behind her push and the door budged again. Again I pushed it closed. At this point, I could hear her sigh in exasperation and saw her turn to leave through the window by the door. I immediately felt guilty, so I opened the door and she turned around with a bright smile. I noticed she had these two long braids that went so far down her back they almost reached the ground. I only got her name out of my mouth before she came inside. I thought the jig was up and I'd have to return the cassette deck. Well, turns out the cassette deck wasn't why she had come over. However, what that reason was, I couldn't say because the dream faded at that point.

I then found myself walking down a dirt path in some obscure location. I have no idea where I was or where it was supposed to be. Meaning, I can't say whether I was in the woods, outside of a city, or on an island. I suppose none of that was important for me to know. As I walked along, I heard a rather indignant voice say something like, "Get me out of here" or it may have said, "Help me get out of here." I looked down toward where I thought the voice was coming from but didn't see anything at first. Then I caught sight of a small lizard's head protruding from the ground just off the side of the path I was on. I stooped down and took in its features which were basically clay colored with dark brown stripes along its face. It seemed to be trapped in the earth as if a hole had collapsed on it. I reached down and gently pulled the dirt up and away from it until it was able to free itself. It immediately thanked me and began to walk with me along the path. The lizard walked up on its hind legs like a person or the Geico chameleon. I believe we had something of an amiable conversation and at some point along the way, we encountered a swarm of gnats. Here the lizard stopped and positioned himself so as to catch the gnats in his mouth and happily eat them one by one. I had lied myself down on the ground behind him and was resting my head on my hands. It was then that I noticed a sort of progression of chickens coming up the path. They were black chickens with red combs and yellow feet, and they were pulling small wooden carts that seemed to be full of their belongings or so I supposed. They didn't say anything to us but they did turn to look our way as they continued along their journey. And here this dream fades as I went back through the revolving dreaming door.

Now I'm on a city bus in Manhattan. I'm in my early college years, so somewhere in my 20s. I'm seated near the front of a city bus and looking out the window at the buildings, people and traffic. I realize I'm in the middle of a conversation with the person seated next to me closest to the window. I recognize her from high school, but would not recognize her outside the context of this dream. As we're talking, we both turn to look at the person seated behind us by herself and realize we know her, as well, from high school and that she strangely resembles my friend seated next to me. We comment on this resemblance and the two girls say it's true and was also true when we were all in high school, but nothing is mentioned about being thought to be sisters or anything like that. I notice both of these girls still have braces with the rubber bands joining their upper and lower jaws. Both also have the exact same haircut, kind of a short bob pulled back behind the ears. The bus turns a corner and the dream fades.

In the final dream I remember from last night, I'm again in Chicago with two young women. This time we're waiting at an El (elevated train) stop to catch a train to our new college class we are supposed to be starting that afternoon. We are all dressed for cool weather, but not winter per se. It seems to be either fall of early spring. I believe I recall leaves and flowers on the trees, so it must have been early spring. We are each dressed similarly in long open coats and scarves, but no hats or gloves. I recall there was some snafu at the turnstile going onto the train platform where after I had already paid and moved onward, both of my friends stated that they did not have the train fare and would not be going to class any time soon. I admonished them in a friendly way that it wasn't a good idea to miss the first class, but neither of them seemed particularly concerned about it. If anything, they seemed as though it was the plan all along to ditch out on going at all. I looked back at them on the other side of the turnstile and they looked at me with this "see you later" expression without actually saying so. And the dream faded out.

I awoke this morning at 6:55 am. I know this because I reached over to check the time on my cell phone. I thought it was darker through my closed blinds than it normally would be at this time in the morning. That's when I began to hear the sound of a light rain sprinkling outside. I groped my way out of bed and went over to the blinds, which I peeked through without actually opening and verified that it was raining. I thought, "but it wasn't forecasted," as if weather forecast are ever truly accurate. I turned back and sort of looked into the dark room and tried to decide whether to get up or try for more slumber, but the call of coffee already had me in its grip. It was at this point that all the night's dreaming came back to me just as clearly as if I had only just experienced each dream.

Psychic Dreams

I rarely, if ever, dream about people I actually know, but when I do, I pay particular attention as those dreams are usually extremely vivid and, oddly enough, more mundane than my dreams typically are (see Steampunk-like dream). Also, in my experience, my psychic dreams are not necessarily a foretelling of a future event. Sometimes they are my higher consciousness working something unresolved out, or sometimes they are other people's higher consciousness working something out that involves me in some way but maybe only in relation to them. Sound crazy? If you believe as I do that we are all connected, connected because everything is made of energy, including us, and there are no barriers to energy, then this is not that big of a stretch. And, for me, it's not a stretch at all. In my opinion, this is how the psychic connection works. This is how a psychic does a reading of a person, place, thing or situation. A psychic has learned how to connect their energy to another and read, or feel, whatever information the person, object, or situation has to offer. In this way, information can also be gleaned from dreams, whether our own or someone else's. In addition, and this may be harder for others to accept, I believe that when we dream it is not simply our minds that are engaged as science would tell us, but that our spirits are also actively interacting outside the normal, or understood, reality. My theory may require a quantum leap in perspective, or to look at it from the context of quantum mechanics. Following is an account of a psychic dream I had last night. I believe, feel, that in this case, this dream actually had nothing to do with me, but it was other energies interacting with mine to work something out.

I dreamt I ran into an old friend on the streets of Chicago. I have not seen this person in more than 20 years. The dream had two parts. In the first part, I was at my old apartment building where I last lived in Chicago. Of course, the building was very unrecognizable now that I am awake, but in the dream I was completely familiar with it all. I often experience this duality where in dreams my environment seems familiar, but in my waking consciousness it is not. My neighbors, Aim and Jennie, who used to live together, now, in the dream, lived in separate apartments as they do in real life as well. I also never actually saw them in the dream, just as I have not seen either of them in real life either for many years. At some point, I left the apartment building to run an errand, I guess, and on the street I randomly ran into another old friend, Nadine, whom I used to work with at two different jobs and had known for many years as well. She and I we're basically drinking buddies. She could hold a lot more liquor than I and better than me too. Lol. She was of Southside Irish descent as if that explained it. Most of our interactions were during dinners with cocktails, lots of cocktails, to the point that I would almost always black out, get very sick, and have devastating hangovers the following day. She, on the other hand, would be relatively unaffected by alcohol. Late in our friendship, she developed epilepsy and had to give up her heavy drinking and it was around that time we stopped seeing one another. I also left Chicago to live in other places. However, I digress. I wish I could describe the range of emotions that crossed her face when she saw me in the dream. As I approached her, I saw her before she saw me, I called out, "Nadine?" She turned, and as recognition set in, her countenance changed from "who is calling my name" to "oh my god!" At first, it was like a happy reunion. She said, "What's up?," which is exactly what she would say. "How ya been?" I told her I had been away for a long time but I was back in the city. "How are you," I asked in return? By this point, we we're talking and walking rather quickly, but I did not realize she was trying to get away from me. She told me she needed to pick up food for a family function. She didn't really go into it, which wasn't normal for Nadine. She likes to talk and normally carried our conversations. She walked briskly a little ahead of me and I basically tried to keep up. She kept looking over at me with this look of incredulity as if she couldn't believe it was really me, or how did this happen, or how did I find her. At some point, she suddenly dashed into some restaurant on the street. I waited outside. I'm not sure why. Then, just as suddenly, she came out again with one of those recyclable carry trays that holds coffee to go. It was laden with drinks stacked four high in each cup holder, napkins, straws and other to go items. We began walking again, but we only made it a few steps before she went back into the restaurant through another door. Again, I didn't follow her, but I did look through the glass door to see what she was doing this time. She had sat down at a table. I could see her family around her. They were all having a jovial time, but she looked back at me through the window with this look of anguish. I knew, or realized, at that moment that she did not want to see me. I had this kind of epiphany and immediately hightailed it out of there. I wasn't upset. I just accepted that for whatever reason she was not interested, or able, in getting reacquainted. I woke up soon after.

 

The Precarious Nature of Health and Wellbeing

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about my health and general wellbeing. I've been dealing with an ongoing kidney stone episode that everyone I speak to about it describes kidney stones as the worst pain ever. When the episode first manifested itself over three weeks ago (yes, three weeks!), I had been staying at a friend's place in Santa Barbara where I was living at the time and we had just wrapped a wonderful weekend of feasting on the most delicious foods. My friend, Meagan, is a fantastic chef. She once owned her own Chinese restaurant on St John's Island in the Caribbean. Now she has an awesome Airbnb accommodation in downtown Santa Barbara where one can experience all that wonderful city has to offer and sample some of her amazing cooking which goes well beyond Chinese cuisine. Anyway, I digress. On this particular morning, I was scheduled to embark on a cross country road trip. However, I woke feeling an intense pain in my left side that started in my lower back and radiated all the way around to my navel. At first, I thought it might be related to my chronic issues with IBS, which, if you don't know can be any number of gastrointestinal issues classified as IBS because its actual source is unidentified. Strangely, the pain didn't register at all during the night as I remember getting up to use the restroom at some point and going back to bed without feeling anything out of the ordinary. However, shortly after waking, this intense pain began to quickly manifest and all I could do was squirm around in bed trying to find a more comfortable position. I could hear Meagan was already up and doing something in the living room. I lied there debating both what to do and what could be causing the discomfort. Honestly, I thought I had had too much rich food over the weekend and was simply suffering from indigestion, which is something I had experienced before though not exactly like this. I decided to cut our morning short and get back to my own residence in Ventura, California, which is about a 30 minute drive south of Santa Barbara. I made hasty apologies to Meagan, gathered my belongings, and hightailed it out of there.

I was lucky it was a Sunday morning as there was very little traffic. Later in the afternoon, the 101 would be gridlocked as weekenders return to Los Angeles. As I drove, the pain intensified and many times I considered pulling over or getting off the freeway altogether, but at the same time, I just wanted to get home. I actually began to cry out in my car from the intensity of the pain. I probably should not have been driving. After getting back to my place, I first went into my bedroom and tried just lying back down and considered my options. I kept thinking the pain would lesson or that there was something I could take to help. Instead, the pain intensified enough that I eventually called 911. Now, I never call 911 unless it is a dire emergency and I feel my life may, in fact, be threatened. I was doubled over and crying. I gave the 911 operator the lowdown and she dispatched an ambulance. Thankfully, I lived within less than a quarter mile from both the hospital and the fire station. Even though they arrived in probably less than five minutes, it felt like an eternity. I had left the front door opened and was crouched on the living room sofa. I heard my next door neighbor outside and called out to him to come over. I told him what was happening and he watched out for the paramedics. Once they arrived, fire engine in tow (its a law to send a fire engine whenever an ambulance is called), my neighbor directed the paramedics inside. They asked what I was experiencing and took my vitals. One of the paramedics immediately identified the symptoms as a probable kidney stone as he had had the same issue himself. He said, "It was the worst pain ever!," which is a refrain I would hear time and again. I'm sure hearing that so often has contributed to my absolute fear and anxiety throughout this situation and what's still to come. At this writing, I am still waiting to pass the damn thing.

The paramedics helped me onto the stretcher, which from my perspective seemed precariously high and unstable. My 6 foot frame didn't quite seem to fit on it. They were going to have me lie down, but I said that would be impossible and needed to be sitting up. Once onboard, they asked what hospital I wanted to go to. County or private? I asked which was closer. Community Memorial, which is a private hospital less than a quarter mile from my house. Since I knew my insurance would cover the visit, I said let's go there and we were off. No sirens were used but the driver seemed to speed through town anyway. Maybe the ambulance lights were flashing, I don't know. On the way, the paramedic in back checked my vitals again and said my blood pressure was a little elevated. You don't say, I thought, but didn't say anything out loud. I just nodded as I tried to breathe through the discomfort. Upon arrival at the ER, I was wheeled right in. Now, I have to stop and say, thank the gods I arrived by ambulance, because had I have been driven by my neighbor or arrived by my own means, I would have been sitting in the waiting room for at least 20-30 minutes. Sometimes, it's worth it to call an ambulance. The on duty nurse asked the paramedics about my situation and they gave her what was thought. Kidney stone. The place was completely empty at that time, but would soon fill up. I was wheeled into a curtained off bay and soon IV'd for fluids and blood draw. It took them a little while to provide me with any pain medication. I believe I was seen by the doctor on duty first who was not immediately available, even though, as I said there we're no other patients there yet. Eventually, a nurse came along and said I would be given morphine. As soon as the injection was administered, I could feel a strange warmth come over me and, thankfully, the pain receded. I was asked to provide a urine sample, which I could not do laying down, even if I weren't in any pain. I suppose once one learns not to bed wet as a child, laying down to pee doesn't work anymore. lol. After donning one of those tie-in-the-back hospital gowns, I made my way to the restroom down the corridor and provided the requested sample. I won't describe it, but I could tell from the color that my insides were under duress. Shortly thereafter, they decided to run a CT scan and I was wheeled away. During the scan, they administered a contrast dye to help any abnormality to stand out. The whole process took less than 15 minutes before I was returned to my bay in the ER. Sadly, somewhere between the CT scan room and the return to the ER my pain returned with a slow building vengeance. This is something I've experienced with morphine before. The relief comes on quickly, but its effects are relatively short lived. I wonder if that is the reason some people become addicted to it due to the need to re-administer and ward off pain so often. It's also probably the reason they would not give me any further doses. I sat suffering and largely ignored for about 20 minutes when a nurse came by with a couple hydrocodone tablets, which I take regularly now. She thought they would knock me out and insisted I get someone to drive me home. However, drugs simply don't affect me in that way. I have a huge tolerance both for pain and pain medications. At some point, the ER doctor returned and simply stated that I did in fact have stones. He did not give me any details other than stones in general. I was given a script for the hydrocodone, a referral to a urologist, and an aftercare protocol that was basically to drink lots of water and wait for the stones to pass on their own. Thankfully, no one said it would be the worse pain ever when they do.

I returned home and made arrangements to postpone my trip for a week. I filled the Rx and waited for the stones to pass, which they never did. However, the pain eventually did pass. I also did a bunch of research on the net about kidney stones and ways of treating them "naturally." I came across a variety of possible regimens including lemon water, apple cider vinegar, and an herb called Chanca Piedra. Since I have a certificate in herbalism and believe in its efficacy, I did further research on Chanca Piedra and found a product called Disolvatol from Kidney Stone Labs. It's website had all kinds of case studies and research into the effectiveness of the herb, also known as the stone blocker or stone destroyer, and plenty of testimonials. Plus, I was freaked out enough by my experience thus far and the thought of the worse pain ever to give it a try. I ordered one bottle and anxiously waited for it to arrive via priority mail. While the directions on the bottle suggest 2 capsules daily, it was suggested on the website to do 4, 2x daily for acute cases. I took 2 in the morning and another 2 in the evening. While it did upset my stomach a little, mostly through bloating and gas, there were no other unpleasant side-effects and after a couple of days I had no further pain. I never did see any evidence of a stone passing, but I truly believed the product had done whatever it was supposed to do and I went back to my regular life.

Seven days after my visit to the ER, I left on an itinerary-less, cross country road trip. I only generally knew I wanted to drive from California to Florida, but even until the day before I left, I hadn't decided on a route or did I have any advanced reservations. You can read all about my travels on my Instagram page, but during the trip I did have a few episodes of renewed kidney pain. However, these episodes seemed mild compared to that first time, so I chalked them off as post trauma and just took more Chanca Piedra a.k.a. Disolvatol. Each time, the pain went away and I forgot about it. After arriving in south Florida and stopping in to see my parents in Melbourne, over the course of about a week I began having intermittent discomfort that slowly grew in intensity. At first, I was able to deal with it through fasting because I thought it was IBS related. Then I began taking hot baths, which provided some relief. Unfortunately, last Thursday night I could not get to sleep no matter what I did. I had pain in my lower back and in my navel. It didn't radiate around my side as it did the first time, so I didn't make a kidney stone connection. Through my insurance, I can call a nurse 24/7 for basic medical advice. I called the number and explained my symptoms. She did conclude it as kidney stones and recommended I go to the ER. This time I was driven in by my father. And, even though there wasn't a soul in the waiting room at 5:30am, I did have to wait for about 20 minutes before being examined. Once again, I was placed in a room and IV'd. I had to provide a urine sample and I was given morphine. They ran another CT scan and lo and behold there was still a stone. This time, however, they gave me a little more information. I was told I had a 5mm stone and that 5.5mm stones had to be surgically dealt with but that I could safely pass this one. "It's the worst pain ever" kept reverberating through my head. I was also told it had descended into my bladder and the passing would be in the next few days. That was Friday and today is Sunday. It hasn't passed yet. Once again, I was given an Rx for hydrocodone and one for Flomax, which is supposed to help relax the urinary tract muscles so that the stone could more easily be passed. And against my own wishes to stay, they sent me back to my folks place. Since then, I have been taking the pain meds whether I have pain or not. It's called "staying ahead of the pain" so that it isn't upon me before I can fend it off. Unlike the first time, I have been drinking gallons of lemon water and taking the Flomax. I've also been taking the Disolvatol every day. For the most part, I've felt okay. I've changed the way I take the herb though. Instead of 2 capsules 2x a day, I now take 1 capsule 4x a day and seem to tolerate it better. Sometimes my appetite is low, but mostly it's my morale. I'm not used to being this out of sorts, nor on so many medications. I'm tired of being cooped up in my parent's guest room, but I'm afraid to leave the house while I wait for the "worse pain ever" to occur. What a cycle!

And that is what has me thinking about health and wellbeing. How is it when we're feeling good it seems as though we couldn't possibly ever feel bad, or that sickness will ever rear its ugly head at us? And when it does happen, we feel inconvenienced more than anything because it has interrupted our normal routine. We can't work. Can't see friends. Can't be active. Can't go anywhere. Of course, sometimes we just power through and do whatever we want pain or no pain. I often do this myself. But this pain has stopped me in my tracks because when it's bad, it is the worse pain ever. However, something positive that has come out of this is that I am writing again more than I have in years, and I have a masters in writing. I don't know where I got off my writing practice, but it was probably in being too busy with other things and thinking other things were more important than the one thing that used to be most important to me. So, I suppose that if there's a lesson to be learned through this, and, yes, I'm still learning it, it's that being unwell forces us to take stock of our lives and reconsider where we're going, whether we have an itinerary or not. No matter how healthy we think we are, we never know when life may toss something unpredictable in our way. Of course, how we deal with it matters, but it's also what we learn from it that matters more. I'm learning a lot about myself through this. I'm definitely learning how to better take care of myself and how not to power through when I'm unwell. I'm learning to take the time and follow the right regimens to be well again. And I'm learning that getting well sometimes takes time and I have to allow myself the time it takes, whatever that is, to be well again.

Signs and Wonders

Thinking about signs and wonders, I recall the events that led up to the transition of my paternal grandmother, the late Loretta Gammons, Staples, Headley, Duncan. Yes, she was married three times and lived a large, sometimes harsh, but always beautiful and spirited life. She remained on this Earth longer than her siblings and her friends, including new friends she made during her years in residence at an assisted living facility close to my parent's home. My grandmother was a feisty and independent woman who supported her family and friends in a multitude of ways including emotionally, financially when she could and through her Christian faith. She taught me some of the most wondrous things and traditions that are slowly leaving our culture and being replaced by the contemporary age. I learned how to bake from scratch with her. I learned how to can vegetables and preserve meats. I learned how to properly use a pressure cooker and the consequence of not securing the lid tightly before placing it over the flame. Yep, we once had a full pot of beans launched into every crevice, cupboard, nook and cranny of her beautiful kitchen in Lafayette, Tennessee. What a mess! And what a laugh that came after the initial shock wore off.

I remember spending many a summer at her farm in Ormond Beach, Florida while she was married to her second husband, and the man I considered my grandfather, though not by blood. Back then, the extended family was huge! Honestly, I can't even say for sure how many there were. I just remember Christmases with a huge gang of cousins, aunts, uncles and my grandmother and grandfather at the helm, making sure everyone was enjoying themselves. Was it my grandfather or an uncle who dressed up as Santa and delivered gifts to all the children? It might have been both at different times, just to keep the kids guessing. Oh, we knew it wasn't really Santa, I think. At least I did, but it didn't matter. It was about being together and enjoying the festival of the season.

Later, after my grandfather transitioned, my grandmother would relocate to Tennessee close to the town she grew up in. Here the wonders and revelations of southern traditions continued to unfold and I was introduced to such things as fried apple pies, chicken and dumplings, drop biscuits, homemade ice cream, and cakes and pies for days. I remember she had a room in her house dedicated just to cake and pie storage, because it was slightly cooler than the rest of the house. Have you ever heard of Hummingbird cake? Neither had I. You'll be happy to know there are no hummingbirds harmed in its making. I'm not sure where it got its name. My grandmother didn't know either. It's kind of like a Carrot cake without the carrots. My grandmother would buy one every Thanksgiving from a lady in town who only made Hummingbird cakes. We would slowly devour it, day by day, from Thanksgiving to Christmas, taking larger and larger portions each day.

In my adult life, while I was living in Chicago, I would often spend vacation time and holidays with my grandmother in Tennessee. She continued to teach me about gardening and harvesting. She also introduced me to the tradition of Decoration Day, which had nothing to do with any holiday but was a time to celebrate our loved ones who had previously transitioned. We would do this by placing elaborate floral arrangements on their gravestones. In this part of the country, my ancestral lineage is vast and there were many cemeteries and graves to visit on Decoration Day. The trunk of her Lincoln Continental was filled in two layers of floral arrangements to adorn all the relatives buried in the county. I never revealed to her that I often saw my grandfather standing or leaning against his gravestone whenever we went to visit. He never had anything to say. I think he just wanted to be close to his family or to check up on us. I don't think he hangs out there anymore, but I haven't been back to visit in many years now.

After my grandmother's third husband transitioned, following a long period after a stroke in which she chose to take care of him herself in their home, she lived alone for a few years but her own health began to decline. Personally, I believe she became very lonely as she had already outlived her siblings and many of her friends at this point. Eventually, her large home became more of a burden than a refuge and my father, her son, stepped in to help her make some difficult decisions. He employed an auction house to sell most of her possessions, her car and her home. The auction company that handled the sale said they had never, ever, in their entire business in that county seen so much stuff. Grandma had become a bit of a hoarder. Evidently, there were things in every available space, some with price tags still attached. To her benefit, the sale generated enough money to float her the remainder of her life with a small portion left over for her 14 grandchildren. My grandmother relocated to Melbourne, Florida to be near my family. We toured all the assisted living facilities in town and it was her insistence that she retain as much of her own autonomy as possible. While her world became much smaller than it had ever been before, she was very content for many more years and made new friends. Unfortunately, in time she outlived her new friends too and soon her mind began to recede deep into herself.

In the weeks leading up to my grandmother's transition, I kept waking up throughout the night every couple of hours for nights on end. I did not relate this in any way to her or our connection. However, I did know from conversations we had had over the years that she had some fears regarding the dying process. I now believe she held on perhaps longer than she needed to due to those fears. As the time drew near for her transition, I began to see her in my dreams more often. Now this was unusual for me because I do not normally dream about family or friends that I am familiar with in this life. When I do, I pay special attention. There wasn't anything particularly auspicious about those dreams or precognitive, it was just her and I spending time together, sharing smiles and hugs like we had always done. So, it must have been somewhere in the last three weeks to a month prior to her transition that I was awoken many nights at 11:45pm. I would take this time to go out on the patio and stare at the stars, wondering at the heavens. Sometimes, I'm sure I saw strange objects silently sailing across the night sky. Anyway, one night around 11:50-11:55pm I received a call from my mother that my grandmother had made her transition, or has she said it, "grandma had gone home to Jesus." Of course, the actual time of death was 11:45pm.

More recently, after the transition of our beloved pastor, the Rev. Judy Campbell-Clark, actually on the that Labor Day eve, I took a long walk after the sun went down through my neighborhood along upper State Street and over by the Mission. When I returned to my building, which has a row of lamp posts along the front on State Street, as I passed by the first lamp post, it turned off. It wasn't a flicker, but as if its switch had been turned off completely. I looked over and felt chills race along my arms and down my back. I knew it was a sign from Judy. A sort of hello or goodbye or a "I'm still near" as she was heavily on my mind and heart that night. Once I completely passed the lamp post it sprang back to life, or light I should say, and I have not seen it turn off again.

Why was this a sign for me and how do I know it was from Judy? I believe and know we all experience signs from Spirit that are familiar to us based on our own experiences in our lives. For me, I've witnessed many lamp posts, street lights and table lamps shut off followed by the presence of Spirit (the body chills) and then coming back on again. This is one of my personal signs of Spirit. Sometimes for me, signs come in my dreams, like those I had of my grandmother leading up to her transition. Sometimes signs are seeing repeated numbers on clocks and license plates, or addresses and other places. I see signs in the clouds and while gazing at the night sky. I see signs in Nature and through visitations by animals, birds and insects. I suppose, for me, the signs are abundant if I am open. Some signs even come from the words people speak unbeknownst to them that what they have said is a sign for me.

I have a friend in Florida who is a practicing aromatherapist and lost her daughter at the tender age of 9 a few years ago. Andrea Rose was like a fairy creature. Small and light and full of life. A bit feisty for sure, but could light up a room just by being there. She also loved butterflies, believing they were fairies in disguise. A belief we share. Since her transition, her mother is often visited by butterflies at strange and unique times like on the anniversary of her daughter's transition. It's a beautiful thing.

In preparation for this piece, I was lead to do some research into miracles. I ran a simple Google search and the first item to come up brought me to a page with the following information that I have put into my own words:

At the top of the page it read: Miracles are also known as signs and wonders.

A true miracle is an event in the external world brought about by the immediate agency or the simple volition of god, Nature, the Universe or Infinite Intelligence (insert your own), and operating without the use of means capable of being discerned by the five senses, and designed to authenticate the divine commission or experience of a spiritual teacher or person, and the relative truth of his/her experience.

It is an occurrence at once outside of Nature and above mankind. It shows the intervention of a power that is not limited by the laws either of matter or of mind, a power interrupting the fixed laws which govern their movements, a supernatural power.

The suspension or violation of the laws of Nature involved in miracles is nothing more than that which is constantly taking place around us every day. One force counteracts another: vital force keeps the chemical laws of matter in order; and muscular force can control the action of physical force. When a man raises a weight from the ground, the law of gravity is neither suspended nor violated, but counteracted by a stronger force.

The simple and grand truth that the Universe is not under the exclusive control of physical forces, but that everywhere and always there is above, separate from and superior to all else, an Infinite Intelligence, not superseding, but guiding and allowing, acting with or without the laws of Nature.

There are four Greek words that have been principally used to designate miracles in the context of biblical revelation. The first two are:

Semeion, a “sign”, i.e., an evidence of a divine commission; an attestation of a divine message; a token of the presence and working of Infinite Intelligence; the seal of a higher power.

Terata, “wonders;” wonder-causing events; portents; producing astonishment in the beholder.

The other two are related to works of the mighty and the meek.

Miracles are seals of a divine mission. The sacred writers appealed to them as proofs that they were messengers of the gods. The Christ also appealed to miracles as a conclusive proof of his divine mission as have many other spiritual leaders who had come before and after him. Thus, being out of the common course of Nature and beyond the power of man, they are fitted to convey the impression of the presence and power of Infinite Intelligence.

Where miracles are, there certainly god is. Therefore, the man who works a miracle offers clear proof that he/she comes with the authority of his/her known god; miracles are his/her credentials that they are divine messengers. The teacher points to these credentials, and they are a proof that he/she speaks with divine authority. They boldly state, “Spirit gives me witness, both with signs and wonders.”

The credibility of miracles is established by the evidence of the senses on the part of those who are witnesses of them, and to all others by the testimony of such witnesses. If the witnesses are competent, then their testimony is trustworthy. Signs and wonders are just as credible as any facts of history well authenticated by witnesses.

Miracles, it is said, are contrary to experience. Of course they are contrary to our experience, but that does not prove that they were contrary to the experience of those who witnessed them. We believe a thousand facts, both of history and of science, that are contrary to our experience, but we believe them on the ground of competent testimony.

We live in a wondrous world filled with magic and possibility. Look at the amazing inventions that the youth of today are creating! And signs from the spirit world are abundant if we allow our eyes to see them and our hearts to feel them.

I going to close with a poem of mine called Omen.

Omen

This morning I saw a pigeon lying, serenely, on its back

eyes closed gently, wings folded close and still as a meditation.

As if the bird foretold a transition or clause, and I felt a whisper through the hairs along my neck,

and time stopped as my awareness unfolded like a denouement to a mystery I knew.

Angels

The life of Emanuel Swedenborg (1688–1772) was steeped simultaneously in the rational world of the physical sciences and a deep Christian faith. He lived during the height of the Enlightenment, a period when intellectuals rejected dogmatic religious teachings in favor of science and reason, and his theology reflects a long struggle to understand the world of spirit through investigation of the physical world. Ultimately, that struggle was resolved when (as he described it) his spiritual senses were opened and he began to interact directly with the denizens of heaven, hell, and the world of spirits between. Swedenborg defines “angel” and “spirit” in the following way:

Immediately after death we come into a world of spirits that is halfway between heaven and hell. There we work through our stretches of time, or our states, and are prepared either for heaven or for hell, depending on the way we have lived. As long as we stay in this world, we are called “spirits.” Anyone who has been brought up from this world into heaven is called an angel, and anyone who has been cast into hell is called a satan or a devil. As long as we are in the world of spirits, people who are being readied for heaven are called angelic spirits, and people who are being readied for hell are called hellish spirits. All the while, angelic spirits are united to heaven and hellish spirits to hell. —Divine Love and Wisdom 140

In his writings, Swedenborg often describes things he has seen in heaven, including conversations he has had with angels there. While some traditions see angels as a supernatural class of beings, Swedenborg declares that every angel was once a human being living on earth:

On the grounds of all my experience, which has lasted for several years now, I can say with full confidence that in their form, angels are completely human. They have faces, eyes, ears, chests, arms, hands, and feet. They see each other, hear each other, and talk to each other. In short, they lack nothing that belongs to humans except that they are not clothed with a material body. —Heaven and Hell 75

All people on earth have the potential to become angels, regardless of where they are from or what religion they practice. Swedenborg emphasizes that we are all born for heaven; if we don’t end up there, it is because of the choices that we make in life. However, he points out that it isn’t as described in evangelical traditions where heaven and hell are forever. While one doesn’t usually move from the angelic realms to the hellish, spirits often move from the hellish to the angelic as that is where we are meant to be.

When people shed their physical bodies and enter the spiritual world, at first they look much the same as they did on earth. Over time, however, their inner selves are revealed, and it changes the way they appear to others. Angels become more and more beautiful the closer they get to the Lord. “I have seen faces of angels of the third heaven so beautiful that no painters, with all their skill, could render a fraction of their light with their pigments or rival a thousandth part of the light and life that show in their faces” —Heaven and Hell 459

Angels do not have halos or wings, and Swedenborg says that the clothes they wear change according to their state of being, sometimes without the angels themselves being aware their clothes have changed. Angels of the highest heavens might appear to be dressed in radiant light because bright light corresponds to wisdom. Similarly, when the Bible speaks of people being “clothed in righteousness” (Isaiah 61:10), it is not referring to literal clothing, but rather to people who love truth and live according to it. The garments of angels, then, while they appear to be real, are, in actuality, correspondences* of their spiritual states.

Angels all look youthful. This is because “people in heaven are continually progressing toward the springtime of life.” Swedenborg adds, “The more thousands of years they live, the more pleasant and happy is their springtime.” This, too, is in direct correspondence to their continually deepening spiritual states. “This continues forever, increasing according to the growth and level of their love, thoughtfulness, and faith” —Heaven and Hell 414

Contrary to the popular image of lazy angels floating around on soft, white clouds and strumming harps, Swedenborg tells us that angels live busy lives that may not seem that different from ours. They live in houses with all the usual sorts of rooms, and their communities are organized very much like towns and cities, with streets and parks and other central buildings.

Communities in heaven are distinguished by the type of service they provide; for example, some communities may be dedicated to raising children who have crossed over, while other communities may be focused on serving people who are being awakened from death. Swedenborg says that angelic tasks are so numerous, and so diverse, that it would be impossible to list them all. In general, however, angels perform the specific service for which they are best suited, and this work is one of their greatest joys.

While angels love the work that they do, they are not doing it for their own sake—they are doing it out of a love of being useful and serving others. The Lord works through angels, and this is true to such an extent that Swedenborg tells us angels won’t take credit for any of the good that they do. Everything comes from the Lord.

Swedenborg tells us that because we are all born for heaven, and because children have not yet had the chance to make life choices that might have distanced them from God, all children who leave this world are immediately taken up to heaven and become angels.

When children first arrive in heaven, they look just as they did on earth—babies are still babies, children still appear to be the same age they were when they crossed over. They are raised by angels who particularly love children, and who enjoy teaching them spiritual truths. Gradually these children grow to adulthood and are welcomed into angelic communities that perfectly correspond to the innate gifts, talents, and capacities of the children.

Later on, when family members crossover, they and the children of those families are reunited, though if they have different natures they will ultimately end up living in different spiritual communities. This, however, is not a sadness but a joy—for all must eventually find that place where they are most at home and where their innate gifts can find fullest expression.

Lorna Byrne teaches and believes that everyone has a guardian angel regardless of religion, faith or no faith at all. Lorna Byrne is an Irish author and peace ambassador. She is best known for her bestselling memoir, Angels in My Hair (2008). Byrne was born in Dublin, and grew up in poverty in the Dublin suburbs of Kilmainham and Ballymun. She relates that she has seen angels since she was a baby. "I see angels physically and I have done so since I was a baby. I know this is hard to believe, and I know that there are some people who will never believe me, regardless of what I say or do. I have no idea why I see angels and others don’t; I am just an ordinary woman. When I have asked the angels around me about this, their reply has simply been “Why not you?”

"It is a gift from God and it never leaves you for one moment, from before your birth to after your death."

"I see guardian angels as a light about three steps behind each person. Sometimes, a guardian angel will open this light up for me and will show me a very beautiful, perfect human appearance."

"Although angels are neither male nor female, they will sometimes take on the appearance of a man or a woman. Sometimes, the guardian angels I am shown have wings, sometimes they don’t."

"Your guardian angel loves you and you are precious to them – you are the most important person in the world to them and, they have to do everything they can for you."

"Suddenly you feel you should call someone, or walking through the park you suddenly feel you should smile at a stranger, or engage them in conversation. It may seem a small or a rather silly thing to us but it may be that, for this person, it is a sign of hope, a message from their angel. As trivial as it may seem to you, it may be very important to them."

"Children, of course, are naturals at this. Angels communicate much more easily with children and a child will have no hesitation in going up to a complete stranger and saying something, or picking a flower and giving it to them."

"As adults, we have to be aware that when a thought comes into our head to do something for someone, even a stranger, we need to just go and do it. We are the angels’ messengers and at times it can be hard for the angels to deliver messages or give signs, as so often we are reluctant to pass them on."

"Sometimes, the sign you are asked to give could save someone’s life. They may be very down and desperate, and you are asked to do a little thing, but what may seem a little thing to you could mean so much to someone else."

"Remember strangers give you messages from your angels too. Sometimes, someone – it could be a shop assistant, a bus driver, a neighbour’s child – says something to you, and you react deeply. It might feel like a sign of encouragement or hope, or like something that someone you love, who is not around, would have said. Listen. Don’t doubt your feelings. Don’t dismiss these precious moments and fail to acknowledge them."

The phenomena of 'Number Sequences', sometimes known as 'Angel Numbers' is becoming more and more prevalent day by day. Thousands upon thousands of people from all walks of life, from all parts of the world, and from every creed and religion, are reporting the phenomenon of noticing particular number sequences on clocks, timers, car number plates, billboards, and from all kinds of sources. According to respected authors, therapists and spiritualists around the world, this phenomenon is occurring as a new spiritual awareness taking place and gaining momentum on our planet. As a race, people are evolving on a spiritual level, with the number sequences being 'messages' from a higher source. Your angels (and/or spirit guides) guide you through your thoughts, feelings, words and visions. They also show you ‘signs’ - that is, things that you see repeatedly with your physical eyes. One of the signs is repetitive number sequences. Angels and those of the spiritual realm do their best to get our attention and to communicate with us. In this way, they help us heal our own lives. However, we often discount the signs that they give us, writing them off as mere coincidences or our imagination.

Angels communicate messages of numbers in two ways. First, they subtly whisper in your ear so that you will look up in time to notice the time displayed on the clock, or the phone number on an advertisement or something similar. The angels hope that you will be aware and acknowledge that you are seeing this same sequence of numbers, over and over. The second way in which the angels show you meaningful number sequences' is by physically arranging for something like a car driving in front of you that has specific number plates, and hope that you realize that you are seeing the number sequence again. They want you to notice, then look into the messages further.

When you notice a particular number sequence recurring for you, ask the angels what they are trying to tell you, and you will find that your angels will give you additional information. Monitor your thoughts carefully, and be sure to only think about what you want, not what you don't want.

Pythagoras said that everything in the Universe is mathematically precise, and that each number has its own vibration and meaning. The placement of the numbers in a sequence holds special meaning. Numerology is a sacred science that has maintained its relevance from ancient to modern times. Numbers point out the importance of seeing ‘messages’ three-dimensionally, in order to show us the lessons, growth opportunities and guidance contained with each experience.

As you recognize and interpret the numbers around you, you may feel more connected to the angels. This connection allows the angels to open the door to an incredible connection that brings peace, hope and love. Number sequence interpretation is an easy way to receive messages from your angels. Numerals are everywhere. Each number has a vibrational frequency relating directly to its meaning. The angels always seek to give us guidance and answers. When they call our attention to number sequences, it is a positive sign of their devotion, love and power. When you notice a number sequence, listen to your angel’s guidance that comes through your feelings, visions and thoughts. The more you notice these signs, the more frequently they will appear in your life. Once you understand the ‘signs’ meanings and accept that they are not mere ‘coincidences’, but important and purposeful events and messages, you will experience a close and clear communication with your angels. You will discover spiritual signs and messages all around you, all the time. You may also notice number sequences that signify things of personal significance, such as birth dates, anniversaries, telephone numbers etc. In these cases the angels are giving you an even deeper, pertinent and personal message.

The recurrence of number sequences is a subtle and constant reminder that something magical … something Divine is happening. When you see the number sequences, acknowledge that the angels are telling you that you are on your true path, and say ‘Thank You’ to them for communicating with you. The main thing about seeing and acknowledging the repeating number sequences, or Angel Numbers, is the fact that you are consciously seeing them. At this time, your angels are communicating directly with you. The messages are for you and they are about you and your life. It is up to us to take the time to go within, listen to our intuition and true self, and figure out what the messages are telling us and what they mean to us. Your highest guidance is unique for you and you have all of your own answers within you.

The placement of the numbers within a sequence holds its own relevance and meaning. When there are more than three digits in a sequence, the middle number (or numbers) is the primary focus as this represents the crux of the message and meaning. When there are multiple digits in the repeating number sequences, after looking into the message and meaning of the centre numbers, look at the number sequence as a whole. Each individual number can be looked at independently, then the digits added together until reduced to a single digit. For example a repeating number sequence of 376 can be looked at a few different ways. The number 7 is to be looked at and deciphered first. Then each individual number – 3, 7 and 6 is to be looked at individually. The entirety of the number 376 can then be added and reduced to a single digit - 3 + 7 + 6 = 16 (1 + 6 = 7). This makes the number 7 the most relevant message and meaning of this repeating number sequence. Use your intuition and inner-knowing to decipher your personal message. Your soul will resonate with the appropriate message. When you are seeing the numbers (no matter what they are), you are being directly communicated with. It doesn’t really matter that you don’t understand the message in a human sense, because your subconscious mind is hearing, understanding and knowing all for you. Even when you are reading the messages on this site, your guides and angels are communicating with you on another level, so let go of the need to understand on a human, conscious level.

An Angel Number I regularly see is 420. Contrary to contemporary usage, it does not refer to marijuana in any way, nor is it a suggestion to use that medicinal plant, though I have done so for various purposes which I will write about at another time.

Number 420 is a blend of the energies and attributes of number 4, number 2 and number 0. Number 4 brings the vibrations of practical thinking, security and building solid foundations for ourselves and others, inner-wisdom and patience, application and productivity. 4 also relates to our passions and what motivates and drives us in our lives, as well as the Archangels. Number 2 carries the qualities of partnerships and relationships, duality, service and duty to others, balance and harmony, adaptability, diplomacy and co-operation, consideration and receptivity. 2 also relates to serving your Divine life purpose and soul mission. 0 represents potential and/or choice, a spiritual journey, developing your spiritual aspects, listening to your intuition and higher-self, eternity and infinity, oneness and wholeness, continuing cycles and flow, and the beginning point. 0 also relates to the God force/Universal Energies/Source, and magnifies the influences of the numbers it appears with. 420 is a message that you have opening your heart to wonderful possibilities and opportunities to do with your soul mission. You have a strong and clear connection with the angelic and spiritual realms and are receiving Divine guidance through your intuition, dreams and recurring thoughts. 420 is a reminder to maintain faith and trust in the angels and the Universal Energies. Your life purpose is an important one and you are prompted to put your efforts towards living and serving it to the full. Trust that you are safe, protected and surrounded by the angels. 420 also encourages you to pursue your ideal career and/or profession. If you are intuitively prompted to begin or expand a spiritually-based career, practice or profession or heart-centered service, the angels will assist with establishing the foundations that will lead to your desired results and ultimate success. Working to serve others will manifest all that you want and need in your life. ~ Joanne Walmsley, Sacred Scribes, Australia

References:

Further reading on Emanuel Swedenborg, spiritual correspondences*, and the Swedenborg Foundation, click here.

For Biblical references to angels click here.

For further information on Angel Numbers, click here.

Follow Your Heart

What does it mean to follow your heart, or to live from the heart, or to wear your heart on your sleeve? All of these expressions refer to a heart centered life. Evita Ochel states that "[t]he foundation of heart-centered living is love. Pure and simple. Therefore, when we embrace or step into heart-centered living, we are allowing love to be the guiding force for all that we think, say and do. We are moving out of fear-based paradigms and moving into love-based paradigms. How this plays out in everyday life on a practical level is huge, and has massive implications for all life on this planet. Our hearts are starved and we are finally coming back to ourselves, healing ourselves and healing our planet. For example, it is no coincidence that heart disease today is our number one killer. While I will be the first to say that healthy eating is vital to our physical survival and quality of life, beyond this physical nourishment is something much bigger. Our overall energetic frequency of the thoughts, words and actions we experience influences our mind-body connection and this is reflected in the state of our personal health, and collectively in the health of our planet." Being heart centered is both a conscious intention to allow our heart, or emotional center, to direct us in all that we do or say, and to it is a directive to ourselves in how we live our lives, or in how we will present ourselves to the world at large.

“Love doesn’t need reason. It speaks from the irrational wisdom of the heart.” ~ Deepak Chopra

When I think about the physical heart, that organ in the center of my chest, and all the work it does to keep me alive and how it does it all without me consciously thinking about it or having to remember to do it.

"Keep beating."

"Stay in rhythm."

"Oops, you missed a beat there."

"Ugh, I'm feeling sluggish. Can we get some more blood circulating?"

The heart works like a pump and beats 100,000 times a day. The right side of the heart pumps blood to the lungs to pick up oxygen. The left side of the heart receives the oxygen-rich blood from the lungs and pumps it to the body. Furthermore, according to the Heart Math Institute, "[m]ost of us have been taught in school that the heart is constantly responding to “orders” sent by the brain in the form of neural signals. However, it is not as commonly known that the heart actually sends more signals to the brain than the brain sends to the heart! Moreover, these heart signals have a significant effect on brain function—influencing emotional processing as well as higher cognitive faculties such as attention, perception, memory, and problem-solving." In other words, not only does the heart respond to the brain, but the brain continuously responds to the heart. Our hearts have as much input in our daily lives as our brains, and, perhaps, moreso in ways that really matter. While our brains and minds have unique cognitive abilities both to be creative and analytical, our hearts give us soul. I don't mean soul as in our spiritual bodies, but soul as in our unique assemblage of emotions, feelings, sensations, empathy, sympathy, healing, etc.

"Put your heart, mind, and soul into even your smallest acts. This is the secret of success." ~ Swami Sivananda

We must also protect our hearts, both physically and emotionally. We do this by taking care of our bodies, exercising in ways that are right for our lives, following diets that nourish us, and seeing our doctors when things don't feel right or there are symptoms that something is off. I recently came across an object fashioned into a pendant to be worn around the neck that is claimed to protect the body from harmful electro magnetic fields or EMFs. According to the website, the makers state that "EMF radiation comes from cell phones, computers, television, microwave, electrical appliances, etc. In reality, EMF radiation is everywhere, and it is extremely dangerous to our well-being. It is a well known contributor to multiple cancers, diseases, and illnesses. With the increase and advancement of technology, EMF radiation is not going away, but we have advanced to be able to protect ourself from this radiation. The pendant releases negative ions which combat the positive ions that electrical devices give off, thus, keeping you clean and free from radiation. The Energy Pendant is made from volcanic lava. The volcanic lava is known to be home to over 70 natural minerals. The pendants are structurally bonded together using advanced nanotechnology. There are no harmful side-effects of the pendant because scalar energy is created naturally by Earth. The effectiveness of the scalar energy depends on the negative ions count. The more negative ions, the stronger and more effective. Our pendants have a strength of around 6,000 - 7,000 negative ions, which is the strongest on the market. Overall, the pendant helps restore the natural balance of our body. Scalar waves also referred to as Tesla Waves, or Longitudinal Waves, are capable of penetrating any solid object including Faraday Cages. A transmitter can be placed in a box of thick metal and a receiver outside of the box will still receive the scalar wave. Scalar waves are capable of passing through the earth from one side to another with no loss of field strength as Tesla showed in one of his experiments." Fascinating stuff.

“Love for others and respect for their rights and dignity, no matter who or what they are: ultimately these are all we need.” ~ Dalai Lama XIV

To follow your heart is to allow your senses and feelings to guide you on your journey. It's very similar to that of the psychic who links to the subtle fields and inner senses to provide vital information on how to proceed and/or how to help others on their path too. Our hearts carry an intelligence that is different, but works in conjunction with our minds or our objective intelligence. One is not better or worse than the other though some might think so. The two are succinct and intrinsic parts of a greater whole known as the human being or being human. Therefore, to follow your heart is to embrace our heritage of being human and being humane in everything and every way.

Spiritual Biodiversitist

Recently I started calling myself a Spiritual Biodiversitist. My computer's spell check tells me that there's no such word (yet) as biodiversitist, but that's never stopped me from using made up words anyway. As with anything in my life, which is in a constant state of flux and transformation, I'm always reinventing who I believe myself to be and how I present myself to the world at large. I've never been one of those people who is the same person today that I was as a child or even as I was last year. I suppose there are a lot of variables for why this is true. I tend to have many varying interests and those interests will change, or one may grow while another that was forefront may recede for a time. If I could be viewed at the subatomic level, I would probably resemble a pulsating star 🌟, or perhaps a solar system of energetic particles swirling around an unstable nucleus whose gravitational pull strengthens and weakens causing my particles to follow a somewhat erratic, elliptical orbit. If you believe in star signs or the zodiac, I'm a Libra ⚖️, who are described as being full of curiosity and open-mindedness, which is extremely common within the Libra personality and we are always on the hunt to discover new ideas, which is so true of me. As I reflect back on my childhood, I was raised in a very conservative home. My parents are the same today as they have always been. They have the same values, beliefs, politics, and desires as they did when I was a child. They are constant in every way and I always know exactly where I stand, which is almost always in contention with them, which is another story for another post. I don't know exactly or entirely why I became the person I am today, but I thank my lucky stars I did. My constant curiosity about everything has kept me younger than my peers both intellectually and physically. Seriously! Whenever I meet people in my peer group, there is often an element of surprise because people often mistake me for someone younger, and most mornings before I've looked in the mirror, I also mistake myself for someone younger too. So in claiming myself as a Spiritual Biodiversitist (you thought I'd forgotten what I was talking about here 😉), I'm laying claim to a world/universe, or existence, that is bigger in every way than what is seen or even currently known. Mankind is always making new discoveries and having to redress previous known suppositions as new evidence presents itself. I take this philosophy as a given and relish in it. I believe the universe, which for me includes everything on every level in every way, both known and unknown, like myself, is in a constant state of change and growth. It's always expanding. It's infinite. There's no end and there was no beginning. Remember, I'm not just referring to outer space, but all dimensions. In my philosophy, there's is a spiritual dimension, or aspect, that has nothing to do with religion but everything to do with truth. Everything we know and understand as human beings stems from this truth, but our understanding as human beings is finite. I believe we must transcend the human experience in order to experience and grasp universal truth. Additionally, as a human being on planet Earth 🌎 (and, yes, I believe there are human beings on other planets too), I deeply believe in the idea of biodiversity, which is described as the variability among living organisms from all sources, including terrestrial, marine, and other aquatic ecosystems and the ecological complexes of which they are part, including diversity within species, between species, and of ecosystems. Biodiversity taught me that everything and everyone is connected long before those in spiritual circles began stating this truth. And, as the physical world is a reflection of the spiritual, the idea of biodiversity expands to include all dimensions. Do you see how this is coming together? Spiritual biodiversity is the marriage of all that is and a reflection of the truth. Therefore, calling myself a Spiritual Biodiversitist, which I typically capitalize as it's my title, is my way of claiming a heritage to truth.

A New Awakening

Wow, I've been asleep for a long time! While I haven't been blogging since 2010, I have been writing in other formats and on other sites. I have a Facebook page that is very political and informative, but not at all social. I tend to use Instagram for more social kinds of posts. Does anyone else do this? Use different sites for different purposes? I suppose it isn't so good for branding oneself, but, then I don't consider myself a brand. I just like to write on a variety of subjects and have found different sites more suited to particular audiences. Facebook started out as a social, social media outlet, but due to my global friends, their experiences, the subsequent info in my feed, my left-of-left liberal p.o.v. and the current political climate, STORMY, well, I just can't hold back. And, while I'm a big proponent of exposing political corruption worldwide, there's so much available material in the USA, or as I refer to it, the divided states and its close ally, the apartheid state of Israel, benefactor of billions in US aid. But don't fret, I enjoy writing about other topics as well including spiritual development, philosophy, natural health and healing, mermaiding, art, and more. Feel free to peruse my previous posts prior to 2010, but be forewarned that some of the embedded links and photos may be either nonfunctioning or simply no longer relevant.