Monday, November 28, 2011
Kathryn Preston singing Janis Ian's Lovers Lullabye A Capella
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=1761831719435&set=t.1048342148&type=3&theater
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Druidry, Merlin, Pendragon
Another interesting synchronicity is starting to happen surrounding the name 'Pendragon.' Now, this may be nothing new to some of you , but it's all new to me, so bear with 'the novice' for amoment.
Last winter I was in a quaint little town that time forgot in the Adirondacks, a town where there was a local theater called "Pengragon."
I had no idea at all, at that time, what the name meant or that it connected in any way with Druidry, Merlin, Arthur, etc.
This past summer and fall, as I pursued my research regarding Druids, I find that Arthur's father was named Uther Pendragon, and the word 'Pen' literally means "head" (of the dragon). Whenever I watch a movie about "Arthur," I cry -- with a longing, and an inexplicable yearning (not 'romantic' ... I don't have the hots for Clive Owen,... well, alright maybe a wee bit of a crush ("King Arthur" 2004.) ... the sense of loyalty and commitment to a higher cause, the nobility of principles, willingness to risk EVERYTHING for something larger than ourselves ... it awakens something in me.)
Merlin has been a huge symbol for me for years, and the more I read different interpretations re Merlin and Druids, the deeper and more rounded they are becoming -- he is less and less an archetype, and more and more REAL with each passing day. In fact, I just met a real live Druid who graduated from the order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids in Britain. (A sort of real-life hogwarts).
Perhaps -- now is the time to go deeper, to stop dancing around the perimeter of Druidry, and "enter the circle," so to speak.
Last winter I was in a quaint little town that time forgot in the Adirondacks, a town where there was a local theater called "Pengragon."
I had no idea at all, at that time, what the name meant or that it connected in any way with Druidry, Merlin, Arthur, etc.
This past summer and fall, as I pursued my research regarding Druids, I find that Arthur's father was named Uther Pendragon, and the word 'Pen' literally means "head" (of the dragon). Whenever I watch a movie about "Arthur," I cry -- with a longing, and an inexplicable yearning (not 'romantic' ... I don't have the hots for Clive Owen,... well, alright maybe a wee bit of a crush ("King Arthur" 2004.) ... the sense of loyalty and commitment to a higher cause, the nobility of principles, willingness to risk EVERYTHING for something larger than ourselves ... it awakens something in me.)
Merlin has been a huge symbol for me for years, and the more I read different interpretations re Merlin and Druids, the deeper and more rounded they are becoming -- he is less and less an archetype, and more and more REAL with each passing day. In fact, I just met a real live Druid who graduated from the order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids in Britain. (A sort of real-life hogwarts).
Perhaps -- now is the time to go deeper, to stop dancing around the perimeter of Druidry, and "enter the circle," so to speak.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Fractal Time
kathrynshakti@yahoo.com
I love author Gregg Braden! I just checked out his book “Fractal Time.” He talks about something I’m interested in: Patterns. He says nature uses repeating patterns to build energy. Nature builds itself in fragments. Each fragment is made up of patterns that are similar, yet not identical. He says Nature is a program that drives the universe. He goes on to say that patterns identified for an earlier time in history tend to repeat with greater intensity at later dates. He gave many historical examples, and I thought, this must apply to the microcosm (my little life) as well as the macrocosm. And lo and behold, the next chapter described a formula that can be used to look at traumatic events (or ecstatic ones) in our personal lives to predict when such events might happen again in our lives. Let’s say at age 11 I lost my father (which I did, and so did Gregg Braden). Take the number phi: .618 and multiply it by that age: 11 x .618 = 6.798. Add that number (6.798) to age 11 to get the next age in the sequence. In this case, age 17.798 will be the next time an event of loss will occur. The goal is to map out the pattern in your life and become conscious of it, then attempt to change the pattern so that something new occurs! (And I have to report that I AM DUE FOR SOME ECSTACY real soon!) I Love this guy! I love the Quantum Physics. I’m no scientist (really, more of a mystic) but I find it fascinating! HOPE YOU WILL TOO.
I love author Gregg Braden! I just checked out his book “Fractal Time.” He talks about something I’m interested in: Patterns. He says nature uses repeating patterns to build energy. Nature builds itself in fragments. Each fragment is made up of patterns that are similar, yet not identical. He says Nature is a program that drives the universe. He goes on to say that patterns identified for an earlier time in history tend to repeat with greater intensity at later dates. He gave many historical examples, and I thought, this must apply to the microcosm (my little life) as well as the macrocosm. And lo and behold, the next chapter described a formula that can be used to look at traumatic events (or ecstatic ones) in our personal lives to predict when such events might happen again in our lives. Let’s say at age 11 I lost my father (which I did, and so did Gregg Braden). Take the number phi: .618 and multiply it by that age: 11 x .618 = 6.798. Add that number (6.798) to age 11 to get the next age in the sequence. In this case, age 17.798 will be the next time an event of loss will occur. The goal is to map out the pattern in your life and become conscious of it, then attempt to change the pattern so that something new occurs! (And I have to report that I AM DUE FOR SOME ECSTACY real soon!) I Love this guy! I love the Quantum Physics. I’m no scientist (really, more of a mystic) but I find it fascinating! HOPE YOU WILL TOO.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Quantum Angels
kathrynshakti@yahoo.com
Ok, so riding on the back of a touring bike for 900 miles, one has a lot of time to think. Here's what I was thinking about while riding from New York to Michigan: I believe in angels. I KNOW without a doubt (due to personal life experience) that they exist, and I don't care whether anyone agrees with this, or thinks I'm insane for believing this, so let's get on with this treatise.
Never having ridden on the back of a motorcycle before, I was seriously concerned with my mortality as I found myself flying past rigs at 75 mph on the highway while winds from all directions were acting as a battering ram on my body. Praying to my angels for protection, my mind drifted, and I wondered how it was possible that angels could hear the prayers or ministrations of everyone on the planet at the same time.
I believe in the idea of parallel realities: that I exist in an infinity of realities simultaneously. But, as far as I know, I am only able to be aware of one reality at a time. Or, is that true? I tried to break it down: how many realities can I be aware of at one time? I was aware of the physical reality whizzing past me: the cold wind, the smells, the sights, but I was also aware of my internal reality which was attempting to get inside the experience of the angels - a first for me. Usually, I ask them for help or guidance, but this was the first time I contemplated THEIR consciousness. (If I am contemplating their consciousness, does this bring me closer to them? Does this musing about them make me more like them? Am I possibly an "earth angel? Are there different "genres" of angels living on earth disguised as humans?
How is it that angels are able to be aware of all of us at the same time? And why do I assume that's true? Modern physics (quantum mechanics) says that if we were able to be conscious of all realities at the same time, we would know all there is to know. I have concluded that the angels must have this ability - to be conscious of all the possible realities simultaneously. HOW do they do it? And WHY are THEY able to do it, while I am unable to? What did they DO to RATE, to be 'worthy' of this superpower? Fred Alan Wolf says in "Taking the Quantum Leap," that to get to any other branch of the multiple-branching reality one just has to "become aware of what you want to do. From any branch there is a pathway leading to any other branch. Time is all you need, and time is all you really have to work with." Is this what the angels do? Do they make a conscious decision to tune into one frequency of light over the other frequencies in order to answer prayers? Do they have to specifically choose to give attention to my particular vibration in order to help me, or are they able to receive and respond to all frequencies at one time? Do they give general injections, or infusions, of light to humanity and make this available to the whole world at once? And if so, is it then up to each one of us to tune into that available energy individually? Or do they only become actively involved when they are actually called upon? I wonder how many people on this planet regularly call on the angels as often as I do? Do they find my pleas for assistance annoying, or is it their purpose to be of service? Do the angels make decisions on who to help by determining who actually has the greatest need in the moment? -- My thoughts are just ... spiraling ... like DNA ... like the fibonacci spiral ...like spirit.
Do you think that it's a coincidence or synchronicity that a song called "Too Many Angels" by Jackson Browne just started playing while I am writing this? (smile)
Kathryn can be reached at kathrynshakti@yahoo.com
Ok, so riding on the back of a touring bike for 900 miles, one has a lot of time to think. Here's what I was thinking about while riding from New York to Michigan: I believe in angels. I KNOW without a doubt (due to personal life experience) that they exist, and I don't care whether anyone agrees with this, or thinks I'm insane for believing this, so let's get on with this treatise.
Never having ridden on the back of a motorcycle before, I was seriously concerned with my mortality as I found myself flying past rigs at 75 mph on the highway while winds from all directions were acting as a battering ram on my body. Praying to my angels for protection, my mind drifted, and I wondered how it was possible that angels could hear the prayers or ministrations of everyone on the planet at the same time.
I believe in the idea of parallel realities: that I exist in an infinity of realities simultaneously. But, as far as I know, I am only able to be aware of one reality at a time. Or, is that true? I tried to break it down: how many realities can I be aware of at one time? I was aware of the physical reality whizzing past me: the cold wind, the smells, the sights, but I was also aware of my internal reality which was attempting to get inside the experience of the angels - a first for me. Usually, I ask them for help or guidance, but this was the first time I contemplated THEIR consciousness. (If I am contemplating their consciousness, does this bring me closer to them? Does this musing about them make me more like them? Am I possibly an "earth angel? Are there different "genres" of angels living on earth disguised as humans?
How is it that angels are able to be aware of all of us at the same time? And why do I assume that's true? Modern physics (quantum mechanics) says that if we were able to be conscious of all realities at the same time, we would know all there is to know. I have concluded that the angels must have this ability - to be conscious of all the possible realities simultaneously. HOW do they do it? And WHY are THEY able to do it, while I am unable to? What did they DO to RATE, to be 'worthy' of this superpower? Fred Alan Wolf says in "Taking the Quantum Leap," that to get to any other branch of the multiple-branching reality one just has to "become aware of what you want to do. From any branch there is a pathway leading to any other branch. Time is all you need, and time is all you really have to work with." Is this what the angels do? Do they make a conscious decision to tune into one frequency of light over the other frequencies in order to answer prayers? Do they have to specifically choose to give attention to my particular vibration in order to help me, or are they able to receive and respond to all frequencies at one time? Do they give general injections, or infusions, of light to humanity and make this available to the whole world at once? And if so, is it then up to each one of us to tune into that available energy individually? Or do they only become actively involved when they are actually called upon? I wonder how many people on this planet regularly call on the angels as often as I do? Do they find my pleas for assistance annoying, or is it their purpose to be of service? Do the angels make decisions on who to help by determining who actually has the greatest need in the moment? -- My thoughts are just ... spiraling ... like DNA ... like the fibonacci spiral ...like spirit.
Do you think that it's a coincidence or synchronicity that a song called "Too Many Angels" by Jackson Browne just started playing while I am writing this? (smile)
Kathryn can be reached at kathrynshakti@yahoo.com
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Fairy Dancer: A Flight of Fancy inspired by the music of Steve Gorn
Tonight I was a fairy-dancer, flying, dancing, and spiraling to the Indian classical music of Steve Gorn.
Initially on the ground, high-stepping and kicking, I decided to leap,
somersaulting and tumbling in mid-air. Then, to the treetops, quick as a sprite, as the spider-fingered drummer weaved chaos, I danced on glossy sunkissed leaves at the top of an enchanted tree-line.
While the flute and drum were dancing a coquettish tango,
I surrendered and spiraled in slow-motion. Unseen hands supported me as I stretched my arms out and floated, spinning like a dervish, slowly, softly … merging with a dusky mist.
As the flute soared, I flew over lush green treetops for miles until I saw a lake. Descending, I danced on the beach, sprinkling fairy dust with flourishes that mimicked the djembe-drum percussion. Waterfalls of pixie dust showered flowers, and I hopped along the surface of the water on sun-sparkles. Each note of the music became a new dance-step as I jumped from sparkle to sparkle. And where the sunlight shimmered on the water, I shimmied with it, hop-scotching across the lake.
Lo and behold, out of the blue, my twin-flame fairy showed up. I took his hands in mine and we mirrored each other, then danced counterpoint. To a casual observer, we might have looked like dragonflies doing a courtly dance. We took off in flight and skimmed the side of a cliff, flying right through the middle of a waterfall into a cave that tunneled through the mountain and out the other side. We climbed higher in to the sky, wrapped our arms around each other, and spiraled, faster and faster, higher and higher, until we left the stratosphere and found ourselves in deep-space. I chose a star for him, and one for me, the way you would pick a wildflower for someone. We glowed like fireflies, tumbling and somersaulting, rolling and spiraling, laughing and giggling, until we spun so fast that together we became a single beam of light, soaring through space as a shooting star.
Then, we decided to disappear beyond the veil, to explore another galaxy … but don’t worry, we’re never really far away, and we’ll come back to Earth to play, another day.
Initially on the ground, high-stepping and kicking, I decided to leap,
somersaulting and tumbling in mid-air. Then, to the treetops, quick as a sprite, as the spider-fingered drummer weaved chaos, I danced on glossy sunkissed leaves at the top of an enchanted tree-line.
While the flute and drum were dancing a coquettish tango,
I surrendered and spiraled in slow-motion. Unseen hands supported me as I stretched my arms out and floated, spinning like a dervish, slowly, softly … merging with a dusky mist.
As the flute soared, I flew over lush green treetops for miles until I saw a lake. Descending, I danced on the beach, sprinkling fairy dust with flourishes that mimicked the djembe-drum percussion. Waterfalls of pixie dust showered flowers, and I hopped along the surface of the water on sun-sparkles. Each note of the music became a new dance-step as I jumped from sparkle to sparkle. And where the sunlight shimmered on the water, I shimmied with it, hop-scotching across the lake.
Lo and behold, out of the blue, my twin-flame fairy showed up. I took his hands in mine and we mirrored each other, then danced counterpoint. To a casual observer, we might have looked like dragonflies doing a courtly dance. We took off in flight and skimmed the side of a cliff, flying right through the middle of a waterfall into a cave that tunneled through the mountain and out the other side. We climbed higher in to the sky, wrapped our arms around each other, and spiraled, faster and faster, higher and higher, until we left the stratosphere and found ourselves in deep-space. I chose a star for him, and one for me, the way you would pick a wildflower for someone. We glowed like fireflies, tumbling and somersaulting, rolling and spiraling, laughing and giggling, until we spun so fast that together we became a single beam of light, soaring through space as a shooting star.
Then, we decided to disappear beyond the veil, to explore another galaxy … but don’t worry, we’re never really far away, and we’ll come back to Earth to play, another day.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Ears that Hear
From now on I pay much more attention to my own cycles and aligning with those of Mother Earth. There is a whole natural world out there that I was intimate with as a child, mountain-born and bred. Every seed in the milkweed knew my name.
My relationship to my own inner depths is reflected in my deep connection to the beauty and mysteries of Mother Earth. From now on, I'm not conforming to socialization standards that others try to impose on me. If I don't want to go to a party where people are boozing and getting high ... I'm not going. I would much rather hang out at dusk observing the sounds, sights, and scents of Mother Nature.
The cricket song; the graceful, glowing dance of fireflies; the gently lapping waves of an intimate inland lake:
these soulful sounds are much more pleasing to my ears than ever before. This is one of the benefits of saying "so long" to youthful, external, commercial pleasures. I don't desire the "party-life" anymore, and am deeply content with this inner shift. Nature is a contemplative playground for me and I receive messages from her all the time now.
Every animal, bird, tree, flower, plant, body of water ... is a revelation, and they all speak to me metaphorically. I wonder, if someday, the communication will cease to be metaphorical and become DIRECT -- from their consciousness to mine? I believe this is possible. I'll start by choosing a flower, tree, or plant, and just sit quietly with it while listening closely. If I practice this, I wonder: will I develop "ears that hear" -- as Jesus spoke of?
My relationship to my own inner depths is reflected in my deep connection to the beauty and mysteries of Mother Earth. From now on, I'm not conforming to socialization standards that others try to impose on me. If I don't want to go to a party where people are boozing and getting high ... I'm not going. I would much rather hang out at dusk observing the sounds, sights, and scents of Mother Nature.
The cricket song; the graceful, glowing dance of fireflies; the gently lapping waves of an intimate inland lake:
these soulful sounds are much more pleasing to my ears than ever before. This is one of the benefits of saying "so long" to youthful, external, commercial pleasures. I don't desire the "party-life" anymore, and am deeply content with this inner shift. Nature is a contemplative playground for me and I receive messages from her all the time now.
Every animal, bird, tree, flower, plant, body of water ... is a revelation, and they all speak to me metaphorically. I wonder, if someday, the communication will cease to be metaphorical and become DIRECT -- from their consciousness to mine? I believe this is possible. I'll start by choosing a flower, tree, or plant, and just sit quietly with it while listening closely. If I practice this, I wonder: will I develop "ears that hear" -- as Jesus spoke of?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Spirit Cave - a monologue
I believe in Magic -- not the Hogwarts kind -- but the kind that sees a tree spring from a seed, a fetus emerge from a womb, OR -- Spirit ENTER a womb.
I am Spirit and I am spiraling, flying through crystalline tunnels in the Earth, heading toward the Cave of Creation -- to the place where we are all born and Re-born.
The most magical of places is the Cave, Kiva, the Womb of Mother Earth, the Womb of Woman.
It is a place of entering in, a portal for Spirit, a Sanctuary, a place of inner transformation -- where I gestate and incubate my destiny, deep within the mystery, and DREAM a life in to being.
My womb is a Gnostic Mystic, like Mary Magdalene, a Priestess of deepest knowing, a CHALICE for radical shifts in transformation. My womb is a Universe unto itself, and navigating the cavernous places of my being is like journeying in deep space.
My womb is ALIVE, FERTILE, ABUNDANT!!! and it vibrates like a Tibetan Singing Bowl, harmonizing itself into the Mystery of Me.
I am Spirit and I am spiraling, flying through crystalline tunnels in the Earth, heading toward the Cave of Creation -- to the place where we are all born and Re-born.
The most magical of places is the Cave, Kiva, the Womb of Mother Earth, the Womb of Woman.
It is a place of entering in, a portal for Spirit, a Sanctuary, a place of inner transformation -- where I gestate and incubate my destiny, deep within the mystery, and DREAM a life in to being.
My womb is a Gnostic Mystic, like Mary Magdalene, a Priestess of deepest knowing, a CHALICE for radical shifts in transformation. My womb is a Universe unto itself, and navigating the cavernous places of my being is like journeying in deep space.
My womb is ALIVE, FERTILE, ABUNDANT!!! and it vibrates like a Tibetan Singing Bowl, harmonizing itself into the Mystery of Me.
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