Channeling Anniversary

Today is a big day for me.  Thirteen years ago today I began channeling on the Oujia Board.

I don’t know if anybody would know but the number 222 is what I like to term, “My Number”.  It’s not mine exclusively, of course, but, it is the number that began to show up on a frequent basis as I began to get psychic and as I turned my attention toward the idea that I wanted to get closer to Spirit.  How to do that, at the time I didn’t really know, but it was something I wanted.  It began as I OD’d reading Stephen King’s books.  I’d shied away from reading his books all my life.  I didn’t know why other than he was scary.  If a movie he’d made came to the silver screen or was being broadcast on TV I wouldn’t watch it.  Just flat out no.  I wouldn’t get involved.  Too scary.

So, it was interesting that one Friday, shortly before I was going to be quitting my job (due to the fact that I’d finished my novel and was now a writer…ha), I walked into the library with the only requirement being I wanted a fat book.  I had no preferences as to romance, or mystery, or biography.  Just a fat book.  And, in the new book section there was, “The Stand”, by Stephen King.  It’s a really fat book.  Took the man 12 years to write.  I glanced at the fly leaf and snatched it up.  Mine.  I read it in 3 days.  Since then I’ve read it 4 or 5 times.  Terrific book.  But, reading that book put an end to the idea that everything Stephen King wrote was scary.  Well, as a grown up I could handle it.  And, he does write some scary stuff.  But, he is also a terrific writer.  God, but I love what he does to his characters.  His characters are everyday people like you and me.  

So, I eventually quit my job and the first thing that happened was I got sick.  Bad cold.  Really bad summer cold.  I slept whenever I could which ended up mostly during the day.  Snorting and coughing kept my husband up, so I ended up camped out in the living room on the couch.  After watching all the day time TV I’d missed during all the years I’d worked I got restless.  I was still sick.  I didn’t feel like writing.  But, I did feel like reading.  So, I hauled myself onto a bus, tried not to breathe on anybody and went to the library.  I picked out 35 pounds of Stephen King’s books.  A week later I was back for another load.  I OD’d on his books and the first thing that started happening was that I saw the number 222 everywhere.  

Now, that was scary.  I called my sister, Betsy, to tell her about it.  The next day she called me back to say that she’d been in her bank’s parking lot, looked up and saw the rotating weather/time sign displaying the time: 2:22.  It was contagious.

On the microwave, at the store, any clock you can think of, writing checks, page numbers…I still, to this day, am able to pause as I get to page 222 to chuckle and say, “Oh, okay.”

In those days, though, it was alarming.  I began to investigate.  Turns out some folk think seeing 222 is a sign of spiritual awakening.  Okay.  It was sort of where I thought I was going.  I wasn’t really sure.  I was yearning.  I knew that.  There was this nagging, empty feeling.  Don’t get me wrong, my husband was totally loving and still is.  I wasn’t missing anything there.  I was just sort of not all there.  I suppose there’s a better way to phrase that.  

Anyway, a year and a half passed as I spent time journaling, reading and trying to meditate.  The lady they’d hired on to take my place at work quit and they asked me to come back in again for a short time just to train somebody new.  I’ve been there ever since.  My circumstances had changed.  I wasn’t bringing any money in to the family as a writer.  I was journaling and not writing.  I was healing.  And, I was learning how to channel.  So, I went back to work.  And, three months later on February 12, 1993 I started channeling.  A week and a half after that I started channeling the way I do now; sort of telepathically.  It took me awhile to realize that a week and a half is 10 days and that would put the date at 2/22.  So, the number took on more significance for me.

Anyway, today is the anniversary date of the day I learned to channel on the Ouija board and 10 days later on 2/22 I began channeling telepathically.  

Drawing...Maybe

Okay…I’m moving into an area I’ve shied away from. Art channeling. I can’t draw worth a crap. Period. I took a drawing class years ago based on Betty Edward’s technique of, “Drawing on the Right Side of Your Brain”. It actually worked. I was able to draw. And, learning to draw that way puts me into a meditative state of mind. It also sorts of skews the way you look at the world temporarily. I actually needed it to learn how to channel, but I wasn’t to realize that for a long time. However, back to drawing. I’ve got a book to publish. I’ve gone back and forth and finally decided that I am not going to get an ISBN for the book. This book is for folks coming to my site who’d like to see all the year’s worth of channeling in one place and not go blind reading it on their monitors.

But, moving into the final editing process has been like pulling teeth for me. I just don’t want to do it. I printed out the book in a paperback book size and I’m not pleased with it. There aren’t enough of the daily channeled sayings per page. It sort of overwhelms me. If I don’t like it I can’t expect anybody else to like it either. So, I thought to make it a larger size and maybe have a spiral binding rather than be a bound book.

Anyway, the guides suggested this morning that if I considered that I’d already agonized through the editorial process several years ago with these same channeled bits of info that I really didn’t need to do it again. They said I might think of it in terms of shifting them about a little. What they did suggest to me (not for the first time) was to illustrate the pages a little bit. They said one picture per chapter would be sufficient if that was all I could come up with.

Except I can’t draw. But, I can channel. And, I can try it. That’s where I run into an old psychological problem, I suppose. Can’t even get off the starting block.

So, the project today will be to meditate, to pray and to try. That’s all. If it’s okay to look at I’ll post it on the blog.

Emergency Kits

I live in Oakland, California. We have lots of little earthquakes. We have so many earthquakes that nobody seems to notice them all that much. However, every once in awhile we get some pretty good ones and every once in a very long while we get killer quakes. It was 1906 when we had the last killer quake. We had a pretty bad one in 1989, but they’re saying on the scale of bad earthquakes that wasn’t much. And, we’re due for one. Like every 100 years. That’s this year.

Somebody from the Red Cross came by to talk to my company the other day. She said it’s important to have a disaster plan and an emergency kit put together. In fact, she said you should have lots of kits put together. Put them in the trunk of your car, have them at home and at work. And, maybe have a smaller one beside the front door in a backpack that has your really important numbers and documents in it; your social security numbers, your passports, your bank account numbers. She said you could email this stuff to yourself and then just let it sit as an email in a folder until the day you need it and have to get it from somebody else’s computer via webmail because your computer has been destroyed. It occurred to me to have your resume there too. I remember one of the Katrina victims saying she was having to remember all that info and was having a hard time reconstructing her resume since she couldn’t go back to her old job.

The Red Cross lady also said to mail important bank account info and papers to an out of the area contact person. That person could also be the person everybody would touch base with if and when the disaster happened. So, you’ve got 5 members in your family. You’re all separated when the quake hits. You call this out of the area person to tell them where you’re at. Then, you find out if anybody else in your family has called to check in.

Then, your family has an alternative place to meet. Your house is in flames so the agreed upon meeting place is across the street in the neighbor’s driveway. That way you’re not screaming your head off looking for everybody. If that place is not available you’ve always got a Plan B to fall back on; some place within walking distance. If that isn’t safe once you get there you leave a note somewhere.

She said there isn’t one particular thing to have in your kits and as time went by you’d think of other things to have. It is important to talk to people about them, to make the thinking about a disaster plan an easier thing to do. She said, if you could, plan on 5 to 7 days before you got help. So, I’m talking.

Here’s what we figured we’d put in a kit.

• Cash – coins are good because they don’t get wet. Lower denomination bills so people don’t have to make change.


• Water – figure on one gallon per person per day.


• Radio and batteries to run the radio. One of those hand cranked jobs would even be better.


• Flashlight and batteries. A friend gave me a flashlight that shakes and doesn’t need batteries.


• Tarp – string – rope


• Bucket with a plastic bag and two 2x4’s to use as a portable toilet


• Duct tape


• Tools


• Non-perishable high calorie foods (not salty – salty makes you want to drink water)


• Bleach


• Something to while away the time as you wait – books, crossword puzzles, suduku puzzles


• A good pair of sturdy shoes. It was also suggested to always keep a pair of shoes under your bed if you have to leap from bed at 2:00 am.


• An extra set of clothes.


• Medical prescriptions that you take.


• An extra pair of glasses if you’ve got any.


• Pen and paper


• Pet supplies if you’ve got animals


• Important papers and account numbers

The Red Cross lady said current thinking is to avoid use of candles and matches. She said a lot of fires get started that way and they’re recommending folks use flashlights.

She said you put 16 drops of chlorine bleach in a gallon of water, wait half an hour and if you can smell a faint whiff of bleach the water is okay to drink. She said if you can’t smell the bleach add in another 16 drops of bleach and wait another half an hour. If it’s still not okay to drink, don’t drink it.

She said every six months she will go through their kits to freshen the water and make sure the energy bars haven’t expired. She said many times she will use the stuff she keeps in the trunk of her car and replace it as needed.

Think of 2 ways to get out of every room of your house. Just think about it.

Anyway, we don’t have a kit yet, though I’m thinking about it. She said it was really important to begin a dialogue about this stuff. You think about it in a less panicked state of mind and just calmly bring the stuff together that you might need in an emergency. Hopefully, you won’t need it, but just in case, it’s there for you and your family.

Suggestions?

The Crypt….Shady Lawn….RIP….Does anybody have a suggestion for what to call The Archives?  

The Morgue

I just had a thought.  Since I talk to dead people I think the archives at this blog ought to be called The MORGUE.  

Ahhhhh

One of my favorite magazines is, “Cook’s Illustrated”. It’s the folks from, “America’s Test Kitchens” on tv. I enjoy the show and I really like the magazine. Especially, an editorial that Christopher Kimball writes for every issue that has absolutely nothing to do with the content of the magazine. Though it might, at times, be food oriented, mostly they are brief reminiscences pointing out the characters of the people he lives with and grew up with. I suppose it’s sort of like a blog where you can get into the person’s head and heart for a minute or two.

For me, reading people’s blogs is a way to be close to them and yet, not be close. You don’t have to get dressed up. You don’t have to go anywhere. You just read their blogs.

Though psychic occurrences in my life are the primary thrust of this blog I make comment about anything and everything that touches my life. Mainly what I want to get across to anybody who happens along to read my entries is that everyone is psychic. And, it’s nothing to be afraid of. And, sometimes it sort of gets a jump on you where you’ll suddenly start hearing things or having odd waking/sleeping dreams or it happens in so gradual a fashion that you really don’t even notice anything odd happening. But, it can also be developed.

Lately, my neighbor saw an episode of Montel Williams show where Sylvia Browne, who is a regular on the show, was there. Someone (could it have been Steve Brooks?) bent spoons. The only guy I know of who is into spoon bending is Uri Geller. I printed up a little bit for Phil to look at, though I don’t know if he is inclined to read it. I think he’d be more impressed if I could just bend a spoon for him. Actually, there are a few pieces of silverware in the drawer that aren’t my all time favorites I wouldn’t mind practicing on.

And, so, I tried. The only thing that came to me quickly about doing it was that the metal was going to get hot. That’s all. Nothing else happened. So, I suppose I could practice (away from my computer…we don’t want that to melt down!) a bit just to see what it would feel like. I once tried to channel a plastic lawn chair. Very weird. I suppose bending a spoon might be the same sort of experience for a channel to try.

The Art of Mending

I just finished reading, “The Art of Mending” by Elizabeth Berg. I found the book in the new book section at the library. It really makes you think. It points out how very insensitive you can be when you’re young and how blind you can be to injustice that happens as close to you as in your own family. It’s about people finally putting a halt to abuse and reaching out to heal and beginning to love again. And, it was scary. Very well written. Very insightful. It’s a terrific book

Pilot Lights

Our neighbor Phil came to the rescue this morning. Two days ago our furnace wouldn’t turn on. It hasn’t gotten too terribly cold, so it wasn’t an immediate concern, though I knew we might still have some cold weather coming our way before the end of winter. Right now it’s about 70 degrees outside, so it’s pretty nice. But, early this morning the wind was blowing and it was cold. I got up to fiddle on the computer for a little bit, but was so cold I went back to bed where it was nice and warm.

Phil had advised us over the phone on stuff to try with the heater to get it lit. He couldn’t come over because he was dealing with gout in his foot. But, this morning he was feeling better and came over and he and Dennis got the thing started again. Turns out I was lighting the wrong place for the pilot light. What they wanted was about a foot higher. I’d been trying to light a bolt. So, it ran for about an hour. I spent some time on the phone to cancel the appointment I’d made with PG&E to come out on Wednesday to light it for us. And, because it was such a nice day we turned it off. Some time later on we tried to turn it on again and it wouldn’t start. Now, we’re talking about serious, let’s get down to business stuff. Phil came back over…hobbled back over…his foot is still hurting him. We took the blasted thing apart again and he removed, after some difficulty, the thermocouple. I took it over to the hardware store where I was informed it was ancient and I was going to have to go to any number of other places to get a replacement. I brought it back and we turned it around and we’re trying it again. It ran for about an hour and we just turned it off. We’ll try in about 20 minutes to see if it will turn on again.

Dinosaurs

Sometimes I find it difficult to meditate. This morning was like that. I decided to do some healing instead. I thought of a friend and of his friend and felt a very definite connection. I offered. I don’t know if it was accepted. But, it’s sort of like waving hi at somebody you know across the street. This long distance healing stuff. I didn’t stay long. I was concerned a little bit about pushing healing on somebody who hadn’t asked for it. Now, that I think about it later, I realize it’s like an insult; if the person reacts and accepts it, it becomes an insult. If it just rolls off their back like water off a duck’s feathers, it’s not an insult. So, same thing with healing. If you offer it fine. You aren’t going to be foisting it off on or forcing it on anybody who doesn’t want it. If they want it they’ll take it.

In any case, I moved on to the thought of doing some healing on me. I’ve got enough aches and pains to warrant it. And, I began. But, it wasn’t long before my mind started moving into past life regression stuff. And, I wondered anew at the time I had a Reiki treatment and I flashed on the soldier who had died in a war, on a battlefield with the earth heaved up like a gopher town and whose head lay 15 feet off to the right. That was me. That was when I screamed bloody murder. That was when my shoulders which had been really hurting for months suddenly felt better and stayed better for a very long time after that. Okay…so, past life injuries and trauma relate to present day hurts and that’s where my mind wandered this morning.

But, the odd thought occurred to me. About ghosts. In all the lifetimes that a person has wouldn’t it be possible to have been and STILL BE a ghost? What if you’ve got a ghost out there somewhere? What if you walked into a place where your ghost was? What would that be like? I’ve never heard of such a thing, but it was one of those very clear, very oddly psychic moments when I thought about what it would be like to have your very own ghost.

And, so that brings me now to a meditation, to a prayer that would bring in all the separate parts of yourself. Can’t hurt, can it? One thing I don’t like is when I’m scattered. When I’m thinking about 15 things and worried about 12 of them and hurt on top of all of it. I’m scattered. And, I don’t feel like I’m firing on all cylinders. I want it all pulled in. I want me to be more in control. I want to feel more focused. So, what if you’re scattered through different lifetimes?

I’m going to hand off to the guides now so that they can do the meditation.

And, so we might begin. Imagine and it is so. Does it matter? No. Rather than pulling all these rotten and stinking and hurt pieces of yourself into a cohesive whole instead think of how you are connected to all. Think of the dinosaurs. They are extinct now, eh? Well, they moved on. Their dna is still within you. You are star stuff. You are all related. The continuity is there. Think of how you are connected to beings from way back then. Think of the dinosaurs. Smell the air. Sometimes it stank. But, it stinks of fresh. It stinks of new. Think of it. Imagine it in your mind’s eye. Think of how you think it might look. That time so long ago. Think back to the dinosaurs. A long time ago. Allow the impressions that come to you freedom to play out. You are safe. You are an observer, but you are more than a mere observer. You are a participant. You are remembering what it was like. You are one. All of you. You are one. Our blessings and have a nice day.

Potato Muffin Recipe

This is a recipe for Baked Potato Muffins that I channeled this morning.

You can use your microwave for a part of this recipe unless you’ve already got a baked potato handy. But, a hot baked potato is what you want. Peel it. Unless you want bits of the skin in your muffins which is also permissible. But, for this recipe peel it. Dice it up and toss in a half a teaspoon of salt and 3 rounded tablespoons of sour cream. If you tend to like sour cream a lot you could always put in an extra tablespoon of the stuff. Sprinkle in whatever pepper you’d be inclined to be putting on your baked potato. That’s pepper to taste. Either cut up a quarter of a cup of butter and put it on the hot potato or melt it and add to the potato. Add a little bit of chopped parsley. Slice off two nice slices of onion and dice them up fine. Add that to the potato too. Beat an egg up in a cup of milk and add that to the potato and mix it all up nice. It should be real lumpy. We want lumps this time.

Measure out 2 cups of all purpose flour and dump in a good sized tablespoon of baking powder. Before you go putting it in, though, have a look on the bottom of the can to make sure the danged stuff didn’t expire 2 years ago.

Put the liquids into the flour and mix it all up quickly. Load it into baking cups in your muffin tin and bake them at 400 degrees F for 20 minutes. Enjoy.

Note from Pauline: I let these go 22 minutes in the oven because they were so full in the muffin cups even before I put them into the oven. Interestingly, I ran out of the paper cups and had to put oil and then smeared a bit of flour into the last cup. That was the best muffin of all. Dennis was very leery of this recipe, especially when he heard I was channeling it, but he said they were good muffins once he’d had one. I thought they were very good and they went real fine with a bowl of that chicken soup I made the other day.

Rose

I’ve just been fiddling with the colors on my screen. My eyes have been bothering me and it’s either the harsh lights or the whiteness of the screen. Or, I just need to sleep. But, I figured if I were to be writing on a pastel colored paper it might be easier on my eyes. Anyway, I selected the Rose theme from my Windows Properties thingie and then went into the advanced selection to select a different color paper to look at. I was inclined to have lilac, but settled on the rose.

Shy

Here’s something that just grabbed my attention.  In the latest issue of Time magazine there’s an article about why kids who are really shy and who won’t speak.  It’s called selective mutism.  Their website is:  http://www.selectivemutism.org/  

I think I had this when I was a child.  Or, something like it. I didn’t know it had a name.  I just thought I was horribly shy.  It lasted well into adulthood.  Hell, at times I still have  moments when I freeze up.  But, as I read that article just now I was moved to tears.  I never told anybody about how painful it was for me.  There were 5 kids in our family and there just wasn’t any time to spend on one who had a really minor problem like she was horribly shy.  I knew even then not to say anything and with so many kids around nobody would notice me anyway.  And, so, I got away with being invisible most of my life.  

Shelby

I thought this picture of Shelby was adorable. She has brought such joy to our lives.

Dennis and Mama Cat found her. Mama Cat used to escort Dennis and I to the edge of her personal neighborhood territory when we were doing errands around here. Like when I would walk over to Albertson's to do grocery shopping she'd walk with me as far as the Buddhist Temple across the street from Albertson's and sit in their yard waiting for me. Then, when I was done shopping she'd run along ahead of me stopping and looking back waiting for me to catch up.

The day Dennis and she found Shelby Dennis was walking to the bank. Mama Cat went with him part way and waited for his return and as they were walking back they heard a really strange noise. Somebody had recently lost a parrot and had posted a reward poster, so his first thought was the parrot was somewhere nearby. But, he didn't hear the noise again so he started walking home again. Except Mama Cat wouldn't move. He looked back at her and called to her, but she wouldn't move. So, he went back and the noise happened again. He got down on his belly and looked under a parked car Mama Cat was looking at. Reaching way underneath to the inside part of a wheel he pried off this tiny, terrified very sick little kitty away from the tire she was clinging to for dear life. Her eyes were glued shut. She was horribly sick. And, he brought her home. We took her to the vets that afternoon and she was ours.

Gmail

You know how you sign up for something and in the fine print, which you don’t generally read but agree to anyway, is the clause that you agree to allow some third party to blast away at you with email and/or popup’s?  Okay, so I have this email account with Google.  It’s a no frills sort of thing, but the main draw for me was that I couldn’t have one except by invitation that you can only get from somebody who already has an account.  Only, I didn’t know anybody well enough to ask for an invite, so I sat there for months with no Google Gmail wondering what it was like.  One day I see an offer to sign up.  So I did.  I use it primarily as an experimental email account for my newsletter; to see how it acts with different accounts.  Some cause different things so as time has gone by I’ve learned not to use dashes or apostrophes and things like that in the newsletter.  

In any case, since I’m a sucker for new things, I heard about Google Talk.  What is this? I wondered.  So, I signed up.  But, as of yet, I haven’t convinced any friends to try it out with me.  Imagine, free phone calls.  Anyway, that’s what I think it is.  So, I’ve been signed up for a couple of weeks.  And, the first ding-donged thing that happened was that every time I sit down at my computer and move the mouse for pity’s sake, a little window eases up from the lower right-hand side of the screen with some sort of baloney in it for me to try out.  Underwear, food, vitamins, Viagra.  You name it and I’ve been watching and getting more and more annoyed at the offers rolling in.  

It wasn’t until just this minute that I put two and two together and realized that is my Google mail box.  How cool is that?  I wondered about it the other day as I sent out my newsletter for February 1st.  And, a few minutes later I’m sitting here and I see Talking To Spirit Newsletter appear in the lower right-hand corner of my screen.  I wondered about it at the time.  How could they know about my newsletter?  It’s amazing I’ve gotten this far in life.  And, I’d say it’s a good thing I don’t generally handle dangerous materials on a regular basis.  But, it’s only taken until February 3rd for me to realize that is ONLY mail from my Google Mail Box being shown.  

Chicken Soup

I made some chicken soup this evening. Dennis caught a cold and we all figured some soup would be nice. I did something different with it this time. Due to time constraints, instead of cooking the chicken in the water and making a nice stock, I popped the breasts I’d bought under the broiler. Ten minutes per side just about did it. They weren’t completely cooked, so if I were making the chicken for something other than a dish I wasn’t going to cook more I’d have let them go 11 minutes a side…maybe 12. Though, I just caught a “glimpse” from the corner of my eye of some guide holding his nose…so, maybe 12 minutes is too much.

Oh, I had a bad minute there towards the end of making the soup. I decided to use up some cork screw multi-colored rotelli pasta I had in the cupboard. I’d already used up half the bag and I don’t know how long they’d been in the cupboard. So, the soup is almost done. And, I dump in the pasta. And these dark colored bits start floating to the surface of the soup. Aghast, I start looking closely wondering if I’ve just tossed in a bunch of bugs too. I’m freaking. The first thing I think (this is what happens when you channel….you become Mrs. Honest)…is can I pretend to Dennis that it’s herbs I’ve tossed in the soup? Then, I keep stirring and ponder the possibilities of using a sieve to get them out. Then, one of the guides said, “It’s from the skin.” Wait…when I broiled up the chicken they suggested I put the skin in the broth too because I hadn’t allowed it all time to simmer and make a nice stock. They said it would be good. Except, some of it was charred, but I put it in anyway. So, I fished out a bit of the charred skin and start examining everything. To my relief, that’s what it was. Anyway, I couldn’t identify body parts (which I have some experience doing since I’ve dumped bugs in other things too). One of the guides said it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because lots of people eat bugs.