Messages in Water, More Moments in the Quantum Sea and I Miss a Dinner with Piero Barone

Used my “trigger” to briefly transfer consciousness again while I sat down beside my beloved Dogwood outside the office yesterday morning; the result was so pleasurable I almost didn’t make it into the office – I could have sat there all day.  So busy inside of her!  I heard a slow, rhythmic and deep whooshing and gurgling and felt warmth and sparkling movement all around me (cells, I think); and what a sensation of belonging, of oneness and of joy!  Even in her wintery and leafless dormant state, she is so full of radiance inside.  Truly, truly amazing to experience.  Thanks to her, I was so cheerful and happy when I walked into the office, I swear that my co-workers were left wondering what moonshine cocktail I had whipped up for breakfast.

Meanwhile, at home, I’m reading with no small amount of astonishment Masaru Emoto’s The Hidden Messages in Water.  I had no idea these studies had been conducted!  For those unfamiliar:  Emoto is a Japanese scientist, whose area of expertise is water.  Emoto’s study was as simple as it was mind-boggling:  he photographed the ice crystals formed by water from different sources – and water exposed to various vibrations and types of light.

Then, he tried exposing water to spoken words, thoughts, different types of music and sounds and then looked at their ice crystals … and the results were staggering.  What he discovered was that water is alive and capable of aligning itself with the consciousness of human beings – which is to say, in so many words, that that glass of water most people pay absolutely no attention to, other than as a sure-fire method of quenching thirst, is capable of loving you.  I’m telling you, I will never look at water the same way again after this book.  It was truly a consciousness-altering read.  In fact, I immediately began to sing songs and gratitude to my glasses of water before I drank them!  It was apparently on the New York Times Best Seller list for a while, too.

The book had such an impact on me I immediately considered methods of water collection for my new home – to make certain I was watering indoor plants with rain water and not fluorinated water – and because, unlike some poor homeowners out west, New Hampshire has no restrictions against collecting rainwater on your own property.  I also remembered that the home inspection had turned up an unused but possibly serviceable well on the property … which might be worthwhile investigating further.

The next object I’m going to try for my visualization homework is a container of water!  (I know, I’ve lost my marbles.  Go ahead, you can say it.  But really, read the book before you judge!)

Meanwhile, on the train, I had begun to re-read Christopher Penczak’s The Plant Spirit Familiar.  He had written of apprenticing to a (for want of a better term) green witch who had taught him valuable information on the recognition of, planting, gathering of herbs and flowers to use in potions, tinctures and other magickal mixtures.  Since he’s from the Massachusetts-New Hampshire area, I wondered who he was referring to.

I can tell you at least one challenge I’m having to face this lifetime:  learning to react to the loss of critically important things without panicking.  Example:  we just got a snowstorm Saturday.  I’m estimating 6-7 inches.  Went outside on Sunday to dig out my car in preparation for today.  So I have my set of car/house in my gloved hand as I manually wiped off the back window and trunk top so that I could open the trunk and get the shovel out.  When I finished, I no longer had the keys and had forgotten that I had been holding them.  I  just know I had no keys.

I had already used them to open the drivers’ side door, so my first search was in the front seat of the car.  Not in the steering column, not in the passenger side seat.  I had no holes in my pockets.  I looked under the seat, between the seats, behind the seats.  Nothing.  I got out and walked behind the car, thinking I had dropped them.  Nothing.  It was as though they had vanished into the ether.  House keys.  Apartment keys.  Car keys.  Two sets of mailbox keys.  On a Sunday, with no way to get back into my apartment where I actually did have a spare car key.  I could feel myself start to panic.  WTF???

Like everyone else, I started calling for St. Anthony.  I have no idea, now that I think of it, how St. Anthony got associated with lost things, but he did, so he’s the first spirit you call on*.  I got out of the car again and started kicking away the snow near the driver’s side door, thinking I’d dropped them.  I couldn’t figure out how I could have dropped them without hearing them fall – they should have jangled when they fell and I’d heard nothing.

Finally – after a good 10 minutes of bewilderment, confusion and the start of a panic mode, I remembered my “pulling things from the Quantum Sea” success I mentioned in a previous post.

I got back in the car, sat very still for a few moments and then, using the trigger, sent myself into a light meditative state and visualized reaching into the Quantum Sea and retrieving my keys.  Then I spoke to the keys directly, asking them to make a sound that I could hear.

Then I walked slowly around the car, brushing aside snow with my foot as I went.  Near my rear right tire, I kicked at a mound of snow and – sure enough – heard a jingle.  The thing that was weird about this area of snow was that it hadn’t been touched before.  The area was still white and flat and looked for all the world like no one had moved it, shoveled it, or buried snow from elsewhere on top of it.  There was no indentation in the surface to indicate that something had fallen into it.  In fact, just before I brushed it aside with my foot, I distinctly thought, “This snow is untouched, but I’ll try it anyway.”  That’s when I heard the jingle.

How an entire set of keys on a key ring fell into this untouched snow without making a mark or a sound seemed almost ... well, magickal.  When I described the incident to my long-time bus companions the next morning (leaving out the part about the Quantum Sea), one of them – a physicist - used the exact same word:  “sounds like magic.”  Which is what made me think that the incident was part of a learning episode.  I still experienced a few minutes of upset before trying the Quantum Sea, so I suspect I still need to learn to go for the Quantum Sea immediately, rather than later.  But it was a memorable experience.

*Note:  I went and looked it up.  Apparently a novitiate in St. Anthony’s order stole his psalter and left the monastery.  Anthony initiated an intense prayer session asking it be returned, and the novitiate suddenly turned around, returned to the monastery and returned it to him.  Hence Anthony’s association with the finder of lost or stolen things.

L’uno e solo was in Boston not all that long ago – apparently, they had a “Meet & Greet” at Fogo De Chao, a Boston restaurant.  Makes you wonder why you turned over your e-mail address to their record company’s official site, if they never use it to let you know that, oh, just as an offhand example, Piero Barone was seven blocks away and you could have had dinner with him!!   Small, unimportant things like that. Arrggghhh!   Grrrrrrr ... ayieeeeeeeee! 

Just breathe, girl.  Calm down.  BREATHE.  Calm down.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Okay, I’ve lost any sense of calm I once had.  Pardon me for a moment while I tell his record company – or whoever runs their web site and asked for my e-mail address which raised false expectations of actually being notified about anything -  what I think of them.

Thanksgiving ... an Overabundance of Earbuds ... and I Merge with a Rock

Ahhh ... a four-and-a-half day weekend … and this time I expect to get my living quarters at least minimally out of the state of packing chaos it’s in, right at the moment.  It seems so much easier to merely make it through the day if I don’t need to pick my way over and around boxes of things.   Arrendersi mai!  Or as they say elsewhere ... like in Italy ... "Never surrender!"

http://indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com

/2011/11/24/marty-two-bulls-first-thanksgiving

Thanksgiving ... or as the original hosts call it, “No Generous Act of Hospitality Goes Unpunished Day” ... has arrived.

I must confess, over the years, as I’ve moved from one place to the other, I have never really had the opportunity to sort through all of my possessions and decide which ones were worth keeping.  Usually, packing is done at high speed, tossing things into boxes and crates for a frenetic one-day move with the promise that I’ll sort through things as I unpack – which of course I never do, so the collection just builds up.  This is the first time I have taken this long to pack things slowly and carefully.

It’s appalling how much stuff one accumulates without even being aware of it, sometimes duplicates and triplicates of things because you can’t find things when you need them, and end up buying them again.  There are also things I’d completely forgotten that I had, and this is the moment when you think, “I need to pay more attention to the things I accumulate.”  For example, somehow I had accumulated something like 20 separate ear buds ... which is all the more astonishing considering the fact that I never use ear buds – they end up hurting, because (supposedly) my ear canal is smaller than normal.  I always use the over the head “can” earphones – so why do I have 20 ear buds?

And yet, you don’t want to fill up landfills with ridiculous amounts of garbage, either.  I was browsing online for “creative things to do with ear buds”, until I realized that the items I know as Q-tips are now known as “ear buds”!   Ahh, the things you learn trying not to toss the “ear buds” that you stick in your ears to listen to music.  I didn’t want to devote too much time to craft researching so ... out they went.

I also seem to have more electrical cords, computer cords, phone cords, connective cords, printer cords, extension cords, all with various configurations of cord endings ... I’ve seen them called “female” endings and “male endings”, depending on whether they have the hole or the pin ... tucked away, out of use.  I have no idea what components each is meant to connect, and yet I still hesitate to toss them, merely out of a vague sense of “I might need it later.”  I have three plastic boxes filled with them.

As I toss things – lots of things – it really does make me feel somewhat “lighter”, less encumbered and less tied to things I don’t need and will never use.

Meanwhile, the cooking-baking-roasting-mashing extravaganza begins.  I treated myself to some brandy to make the morning more relaxing, and this is another happy circumstance of packing – I had put my parents’ cut glass collection that I remembered growing up with in a cabinet and (again) forgot to use them.  As I pulled them out to wrap in paper and put carefully into a “FRAGILE!  DROP THIS AT YOUR PERIL!” moving box, I have been washing the glasses and decided this was perfect for a morning brandy.  It’s not a brandy snifter (haven’t washed those yet), but it hasn’t detracted from the taste as far as I can tell.  Delicious.  One of the many uses I have devised for the enormous entry room is a home bar in one corner.  I have always wanted to have one of those.

(Completely irrelevant and irreverent observation:  has anyone noticed how much a muddler looks like a sex toy?)  (Yes, I know, you’ll never be able to drink a mojito again after that.  Sorry!)

I spent the day after the giving of thanks day in Seabrook, getting the place measured and picking out bathroom faucets, shower marble tiles, kitchen sinks and garbage disposals.  I will probably be actually moving sometime in January.  I was immediately attracted to two marble tiles that – in my mind’s eye – said “The Universe”.  I’ve never had a bathroom in these colors before; the sales lady thought I was nuts initially, but then came around the more she looked at them.  The shower will be in the marble on the left; the two vanities topped with the marble on the right.  The floor is a groutable linoleum that looks like white marble with soft black veins in it.  All of the fixtures are elegant oil-rubbed bronze.  Personally, I think it’s going to be the most awesome bathroom ever, but then, I tend to like drama.  Only problem:  all my towels are blue.  I think it’s time to buy a few new ones and use the blue towels at the beach.


But back to business.  Lunar phase today is Waning Crescent.  The current moon phase is from 2013-11-25 19:30 to 2013-12-03 00:22.  The moon is in the zodiac sign of Libra.  Coincidentally, Venus rules both Taurus and Libra.  And even more coincidentally, the astrological sign of Cancer is ruled by the Moon.  Three guesses who my all-time favorite tenor born under the sign of Cancer (June 24th) might be.

Second transference of consciousness attempt:  candle:  Shooting Star Scent Beads.  Incense:  Scented Garden – Ocean.  Object:  rock.  Gneiss, I think?  Black and white at any rate, and it reminded me the Fordham Gneiss, 1.1 billion years old, back home in New York.  The same black/grey and white particles in it in any event.  This effort was much more successful.  Time:  about 1:30-2 PM.  Now this rock had some history to it.  I acquired it about two years ago.  Might have even mentioned it when I did.  (Sunday, December 11 – wow, closer to the 2-year mark than I knew!)  This was the rock given to me by my favorite Dogwood (or, really, my only Dogwood) after she’d confiscated it from two idiot boys throwing it at squirrels and birds (luckily for the aforementioned, they missed).  She moved it into my path with the request that I pick it up and remove it from the area lest any more boys get stupid ideas.  I did, and I’ve had it ever since.

Hard to separate the sensations.  I felt we were moving back in time together, this rock and I.  I did get a brief glimpse of the rabbit incident, which offended not only the Dogwood, but apparently had disturbed the rock as well.  The reason was a little strange:  I went through such a powerful transformation event with this rock, way down deep in the earth, and I sensed that it felt party to an overwhelming sense of power; a vital part of the Earth’s transformation; and the power behind its creation was so overwhelming I couldn’t find a comparison.  But the sensation was something akin to, “I was made from forces of incredible power, and am offended that, now at earth’s surface, I was put to such a use!”  Actually, that’s more my interpretation of the sensation.  But I did hear roars and heavy objects cracking and exploding under incredible strain, all of which left me in awe of its creation and birth.  So, it envisioned itself as something born out of the earth’s power, that I should see as as an object of veneration – and not something out of a chapter from “Hey, Beavis, let’s find sometin’ to chuck at a squeerel.  Yuck, yuck!”