Sunday, June 29, 2008

Beyond Boundaries

Growing up without computers and cell phones taught me and the neighborhood kids how to find hiding places near the creek. We used to write secret messages on paper with lemon juice and then read them late at night under the light bulb. It was such James Bond stuff and then before bed, I would look out my window at the stars and squint my eyes real tight so that the beams would spread far. We'd wake up early every morning to start the game all over again, trying to find each other's secrets. My bedroom had access to the attic from my closet which became the target point in my imagination to go where ever I wanted. It was child's play and I hadn't thought about this until last week when Wendy and I interviewed Nancy and Joe McMoneagle.

They're married, Nancy is an astrologer and Joe worked as a remote viewer for the government. Absolutely amazing people! ( Last year when I met them in Kansas City, Joe was talking about a top secret submarine in Russia that they were able to find even though it was surrounded by eighteen inches of steel. Nancy was talking about the planetary changes that would require borders to fall and a new world emerging. (

Joe is given no prior knowledge of the person or place that he is to find and said anyone can be taught this skill, some better than others. I went to visit my grandma in Mexico once and my husband said he would find me with his mind. I was too busy packing to really take him seriously and besides he had never seen her house plus he was a rooky psychic so I ignored this. That night at 11 pm, I was sharing a room with my aunt and daydreaming about my next nine days without children, woo hoo! When all of a sudden, I heard his voice loud and audible say, "Sandra!" I jumped straight out of bed and my aunt didn't budge. I couldn't believe he had done it and that my aunt didn't hear his voice. How did he do it? Make his voice travel through space and limitless boundary.

Boundary, what a bully word. I felt the sting of that word from such an early age having been slapped across the face by a teacher because I was confusing my Spanish with English.
"You're an American! We speak English here." she shouted. My dad used to drive me down the street to listen to the music that was coming out of the Baptist church but we couldn't go in because we were white and they were black. So we danced in the car and I kept the music in my spirit and cried at night while squinting at stars to spread the beams.

If we can find people with our minds, draw pictures of the places they are around with such accuracy, why would we think that we're safer with borders and boundaries? To become boundless would be so freeing from fear. In Psychic 101, you would be taught to trust your first thought. Second thoughts are of the rational mind and tend to be false. This is true with remote viewing. Joe agreed with me that we need to relax and write whatever comes to mind without over thinking. If we could just understand that this world belongs to all of us by one connecting force, remote viewing would not frighten us but encourage our brotherhood.

Oddly enough, a couple of days before the interview, I had a dream about a man or at least it felt like the presence of a man who patted my head and smiled saying, "you did this as a little girl, you must do it now, stretch the light" and then I saw a huge blue and yellow star. Good news! The world is changing.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Summer Wedding

Why do we do it? Is it because backyard crickets set off some sort of alarm that wakes up our senses and the outside air smells intoxicatingly seductive? Is intoxicatingly even a word? I don't know why we do it but it's been going on forever. Daredevils, what'd you think I was talking about? I always say, "summer...some are crazy and some are hot." People drive faster, live harder and take more chances in the summer. It sure was a lot more fun being a daredevil when I didn't have to worry about other daredevils. I don't think Evel Knievel would have jumped cars if he had his son on the back end of the motorcycle! So I've mellowed to let the next generation drive me nuts with worry.

Yesterday, I thought hard and heavy about the reasons we do this. It was Saturday morning and I had two weddings to attend. The first one started at 12:30 and my only job was to bring the eight boutineers, five corsages, two bouquets and one bridal bouquet. Easy because all the flowers were bought the night before and they were in the upstairs bedroom with the airconditioner cranked on high and the door closed. I bought ice in the morning for the cooler and relaxed a little too long with coffee. Before I knew it, the clock said 9:30 and I hadn't even started! If it was winter time, maybe I would have made the bows the night before and wired all the stems. My nerves were shot and to top things off, my husband said he wasn't riding with me to deliver flowers out in the boonies somewhere. Who in the hell was going to hold the centerpiece that was filled with water and delicate roses? Fine, I wasn't ironing his suit pants for the other afternoon wedding! Thank God for daughters. The two of us sped off faster than I care to admit all the while repeating the words, "why do I do this? why do I do this!" We arrived in time to pin the flowers with shaky hands and the look on the bride's face was worth every bit of stress.

Wedding Number Two

It was now 1:10 p.m. Instead of showering while I was at the first wedding, Bill decided to wait until I came home and jump in front of me for a 2:00 wedding that we'd both be attending. We were the last to be seated, but we made it. Then I noticed his awful pants! Oh my God they hadn't been ironed, in fact they were just wierd looking. "Where are your suit pants?" I asked.
"They're too uncomfortable, so I picked these," he said. The nerve and how very daring especially when I was already mad, to wear faded gross pants. The reception was being held at a very beautiful hotel and I was mortified. Everyone had flown in from all over for this.
I scanned the packed church, wondering why people even get married. Why do we do it? Summer is also the most favorite time to marry. Daredevils. You could almost hear the sound of a motorcycle reving up behind the choir's music. Then everyone stood for the bride while the spine chilling music played, da da da dee dumdum and I tried hard not to cry. The ceremony was beautiful and the priest talked about different kinds of love. It felt like a pop-quiz and I asked Bill if he needed a pen to take notes.

Catholic weddings are quite long but when the musician sang Ave Maria in Italian, it was well worth the wait. I was softening up by now and feeling very romantic when Bill leaned into me and whispered, "something must be wrong with my hearing because I can't understand anything he's saying." All of a sudden, mixed in with my laughs, his wrinkly pants looked adorable and from the waist up, he looked kind of sexy. I was glad to have married him 30 years ago having jumped into it at nineteen without thinking of the future. When I think about the Evel Knievel in all of us, all I can say is it takes one to know one.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

My dad would have loved to have been a cowboy. I know he wanted to join the air force. He was the seventh child and lost his own father at the tender age of two. There is too much to this man to fill this short space. When he was barely eighteen, he drove to Mexico with a friend to find the woman he had met in Paola, Kansas. In one year, he could speak Spanish fluently and they were married. He didn't go to college but worked the ranch in Mexico until the wells ran dry and we moved back to Kansas when I was four. My mom said I changed him when he spanked me once at only one year of age and I held his hand and kissed it while crying. There is a legend that says we all pick our parents before we're born and our greatest lessons will depend on our choice.
I loved him immensly as a child but have recently grown to understand him as well. He is the reason I tell corny jokes and have so many laugh lines on my face. He is genuine with others but has a high regard for the honor system which gives him a little temper at times.

Today, I realized there is another hero to this story, my mother. We've heard the saying, "behind every great man is a great woman." I can't remember a time when she talked bad about him to me or my siblings. I was aware of their arguments, but it was a private matter and we were not treated as confidants. In the wedding tablets of the Baahi faith, it speaks about not taking your marriage to your children which I preached to my newly married daughter.

So many therapists say when mothers tell young children all the faults of their father, it will cause the children much psychological pain by harming their self esteem and causing feelings of doubt and fear. After all, didn't they pick him for a learning experience? I know my kids heard my own ramblings at times but the hurt look on their faces stopped me from going on. I'm talking about healthy situations and not of those where children do have to be removed from their fathers for their safety.

Still, I believe their healing will occur faster if kind and loving words are reflected back to them.
And so it is, happy Father's Day. Watch your words.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Found Treasure

Forty some years ago, I bought a package of tiny plastic babies with my twenty five cent allowance at TG&Y. They were adorable to me and I named them all, "Mickey". Eventually, they were all lost along with my childhood, until last summer. My sister and I were planting Aunt Dot's flowers and there he was in my shovel, desperately needing a bath and missing his left arm! Barely the size of a man's thumb nail, we laughed at the odds of finding him. He now has a special place in my kitchen next to the tea cups to remind me of hidden treasures.
Treasure, that word eludes me this week. What exactly is it? Everyone seems to seek this something that exists out there someplace. Even my own daughter just said how she can't wait until college this fall because then she will be greater. Hard for me to swallow because I already view her as great. Then Tim at the bookstore gave me an angel card for meditation and wouldn't you know it, the word was "depth". I have interviewed people in search of the Holy Grail and the Ark of the Covenant. I don't think they're looking in the right place. I think of the word grail as a chalice and in the tarot, this represents emotions of the heart. Could it be that this treasure lies deep within ourselves in our hearts? Every good magician knows that the audience will follow and believe that which is obvious. So turn off the tv and radio, be quiet and be still. It is in the darkness of silence where the seed will take root into a beautiful flower. Our treasures are meant to be easy, enjoy the dig!
"Oz never did give nothing to the Tin man that he didn't already have..."