I think I resisted blogging for so long because the word sounds so creepy: blog. It reminds me of a scary "B" movie about an unearthly thing that manifests on our planet , expanding like an amorphous tumor, devouring a typical American town: The Blog. Come to think of it, that has happened on the web in recent years. We're overrun by blogs, the information superhighway equivalent of an afternoon talk show. Yet here I am, succumbing. The Blog wins.Remember the late 1980s channeling craze? Everyone had an invisible other-worldly companion who strayed from his evolutionary dimension to impart long-lost but sacred wisdom to an underemployed American who in turn enlightened the rest of us to the tune of million$ from book sales, workshops, and speaking engagments.Well, I, too, read those books, and I attended those workshops, and I actually altered my consciousness and opened to the greater realities of multi-level existence. But while I do work in harmony with multidimensional spiritual forces, my intention for this blog is to create a more practical conversation for spiritual people who embrace the unity of all life. It's for you. You realize you belong here when you recognize the depth in your dog's eyes as more than a plea to "take me for a walk" or your horse nuzzling your shoulder strikes a chord transcending the physical or the dream you had last night about your departed cat was not a dream at all but a visitation.In future posts I will provide information and share insights, tell you some of my life changing stories, answer your questions, and offer you the opportunity to do the same in a space of uncontained Light and Love. Welcome!
I suppose my mother had something to do with me loving animals. From the time I was five, she was bringing home creatures small enough to go undetected in our Brooklyn apartment: turtles, tortoises, and a half-moon parrot with whom I bonded so deeply that the memories of having to give him up (I had severe allergies) still fly at me like unwelcome shards of glass. I remember crying in the back seat of the car, my father double-parked with the engine running while my mother returned the bird to the pet shop. When she came back outside, she was holding a large tortoise, waving it at us, a permission seeking gesture for my father, who banged his hand on the steering wheel and yelled, "Goddamn it, Rhoda!" But we won. The tortoise came home with us. The parrot story goes deeper than simple loss of an amusing companion (which is never simple, anyway). At the time, I was five and silently enduring molestation at the hands of my paternal grandfather. I won't delve into the psyche
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My experience so far has been incredible and I am sure you too will will find tremendous satisfaction and rewards. :)
Best wishes to you...
Marlene