Just Part of the Job

I was talking to a friend just the other night and mentioned how I've lost count of the times people have approached me and, very hesitantly, asked if they could share some experience because they didn't know who else might understand such a weird happening, plus they were just a tad worried they were going crazy.  I usually meet this with a little laugh, assuring them that I can probably out-weird them any day of the week.

That seems to be at least one of my stations in this life, kind of mid-wifing people into the weirdness of this dynamic, quantum Universe,  because I can get really out-there-weird (which you already know if you've read much of my blog) but at the same time I tend to be pretty well-grounded, at least in comparison to the aery-faerieness that usually goes hand in hand with such experiences.  I think it's that balance that helps them realize that 'weird' is 'normal.'  These sorts of things happen all the time.  We just don't pay attention.  I've even been thinking about figuring out a way to start a support group for people who are just beginning to wake up to their spiritual reality, and all the woo-woo strangeness that accompanies that, so there's a safe, supportive place for people to come with such stories, where they and their experiences can be validated, and fears of insanity can be dismissed.

Why do I bring this up, you may wonder? Because, have I got a weird one for you!  

This particular happening happened last week sometime. I was driving either to or from work and I was listening to my Glee (yes, I'm a "Gleek") CD.  One tracked ended, the next one began, and I sat there in a slightly shocked state of surprise. "I don't remember that song being on this album," I thought to myself. "Huh..." 

I didn't think much more about it, just figuring I must have forgotten -- despite the fact that I'd been listening to that CD almost everyday for a while at that point.  Time goes by and this all settles to the back of my mind, until yesterday when I was trying to remember what song it was that had caught me by surprise.  I started clicking through the tracks one by one, listening to the first few notes of each until I recognize the tune then moving on. Huh... Nothing jogged my memory. Okay. Once more around the block. Nope, nothing.  What the heck?  It would help if I could remember what song it was, but that too seems unavailable. 

That's when I remembered the 'Jimmy Smits' thing.  A number of years ago, not long after meeting another friend of mine, we were talking about some out-there stuff, and my friend asked me if I remembered when Jimmy Smits died. "Yes!" I cried excitedly, "And then shortly after he was suddenly still alive and starring in a new TV show!"  "Yes!" cried my friend, at least as excitedly as my previous outburst.  Neither of us had ever found anyone else who remembered that, but the two of us did. It was like this strange overlap where we'd jumped from one parallel reality to another.

I'd remembered another instance from a long time ago, when I was reading the Seth books, and was first introduced to the idea of parallel realities and parallel lives. Seth talked extensively about such things and how they happen all the time but we just aren't aware enough to notice.  There was an anecdote where a pair of Jane Roberts' (The medium who Seth spoke through) students experienced a switch from one reality to another, literally witnessing the windows on their barn change to a completely different style than they'd always been, and yet remembering the prior style. This sparked a memory of seeing a movie (a classic along the lines of "Singing in the Rain" though I no longer remember which movie) that starred a totally different man than the normal version you could get at the video store.  I mean I had solid memories of this alternate leading man, and could clearly hear his voice, with its unique inflections, reciting the well known lines of this movie, even though in this reality, he has never played that role.   

With all this in mind, I text my Jimmy Smits friend asking if she'd ever heard a song on a CD that she didn't realize was on that album, and then when she went back later, it actually wasn't.  "Yes!" was her reply.  "Good," I answered, "Then we're going crazy together. ;)"

In the words of Captain Janeway from Star Trek Voyager, "...Weird is just part of the job!"

Two Dog Night

Recently I had a dream that has stuck with me, and it continues to unfold in my diurnal life--

I was watching a friend's house while she was away.  Of course the dream house was nothing like her 'real' house, which was evident as I walked through the gate of the white picket fence to head up the front walk to her door. Before I could reach the house, though, a boxer with its tongue hanging out came bursting out the screen door and excitedly bouncing up the path to me.  "Uh-oh! You're not suppose to be out here!" I said, greeting her with a scratch behind the ears.  "C'mon!" I said with a tilt of my head as I started back for the door, and she happily, and bouncily, followed.  Once inside I greeted the other canine denizen of the household, a very low-key basset hound, who greeted me back with a doggy smile and a wagging tail. 

After spending time on the floor scritching, scratching, and playing with these two extremes of dog-hood, I went on a walk-through of the house to make sure everything was alright.  It wasn't.  When I got to the basement, I found it totally flooded, the water apparently running down from my friend's mother's room upstairs (My friend's mom does not live with her in ordinary reality).

--There was a little more to the dream after that, but this is where my clearer memories ended. So what does it all mean?  The following is how I interpreted it...

To start with, Dog medicine is about Loyalty, representing family and relationships, as in those of my personal pack -- those I consider family whether blood-related or not.  The temperament of these two canines suggested a couple of my closest friends, one who is very bouncy and very in touch with her inner puppy, whose excitement and playfulness will not allow her to be contained in any box you may try to put her in, and the other who is quieter and more shy -- the basset actually representing the person whose house this was in the dream.

The water in the basement, aside from its obvious connotations of the emotional realms, instantly reminded me of the Tower card in the Tarot, where the water is rushing against the tower, eroding its foundation and threatening to tear it down.  However, in a reading I had by a friend in which the Tower appeared, she pointed out to me that the water that was shaking up and changing the tower was also the same water that would carry the tower down-stream to its new location -- to where it belonged. 

In the dream I take this to mean that our relationships are changing and shifting.  Indeed, there had been events that had happened prior to the dream in both friendships where I felt disappointed or let down, but which allowed me to claim back some of my own power that I'd been giving away to them.  Things had definitely shifted in a way which lessened what could be classified as areas of co-dependency, making me feel more independent and able to perceive both relationships from a different, more self-empowered perspective -- and still feel the strength of our connections.

It took a while for another significance of the dream to light on my consciousness.  As I was recounting the dream to another friend, some time after I'd had it, it suddenly occurred to me... white picket fence -- Oh my gods, it was the 'American Dream' -- True Love, happily ever after, and all that!  I also realized it was someone else's ideal -- had it been my own, it would have been a farm house or cabin surrounded by woods (with a Delorean parked out front). 

Now there has been a spectrum of emotions between my friend and I, that we've been having to sort out pretty much since the day we met, and I can't deny a certain spark existing on both our parts. But there are also reasons, spark or not, that going in specific directions would not be in anyone's best interest.  And that's what I think the picket fence symbolizes -- Sometimes as much as we may think we know what we want things to look like, just like that American Dream, it doesn't really exist and is just an illusion (and by which saying, I in no way mean to sound cynical. I'm not saying, for instance, that True Love doesn't exist -- if you know me, you know I'm one of the biggest romantics alive -- just that outdated facade of it.).  In other words, it is further validation of the shifting perspective of our connection and friendship, and that any steps in that direction would not be based in reality; would be empty without substance -- It was the importance of seeing the relationship, whatever that is, for what it is rather than projecting dreams and desires upon it.

It also reminded me of something I'd heard toward the beginning of the year in the weekly Sacred Pipe Circle I attend.  The leader of the circle was talking about manifesting what we want in our life.  She said that  when something appears, to try it on like a piece of clothing to see if it fits.  I piped up (Hee-hee! Pun intended.), asking, "If it doesn't totally fit, can we have it tailored?"  She looked back at me, intensely in the eye, and replied, "No! No tailoring! If it doesn't fit correctly, it's not yours and there's a better fitting garment coming along."

That really struck me as I thought of how many times I've settled for things that were close to what I'd wanted to manifest but needed some tweeking to really make it fit.  The thing is that they never really did -- especially in the area of romance.  And I've learned that when things come along that are close to but not completely my desired outcome, it is usually a stepping stone toward that desire.  The missing components are there to tell me that this is not the end result, while the parts that do fit let me know that I'm heading in the right direction -- kind of in the way a chef may keep sampling the meal being prepared, and adding ingredients needed as the dish nears the peak of yumminess.  It is the chance to really raise the bar and fine tune my vision, as well as to assure me that these things really do exist and I do deserve them.  I can taste them.

So I embrace both relationships for what they are, honoring and honored by the presence of these two dear souls in my life.  And I shift my vision toward dreams of farm houses, Deloreans, and that one precious soul I have yet to meet...

A Horse of a Different Color

Recently a friend told me about a friend of hers who had just bought a filly who was only a day or two old. She asked me to 'check in' with the foal to see how she was doing because no one was sure if she was actually going to live very long.  So on my afternoon break I tuned in to this baby horse to see what her story was, and the story she told me was totally unexpected.

The very first thing I felt from her was that she hadn't made up her mind whether she was staying or not. This totally synced with what my friend, and her friend, were picking up from the filly. Phew!  As long, and as much as I do this kind of work, I always appreciate the little validating feedback I receive just to corroborate that I'm on the right track. Of course this was not all there was to the story...

As I continued to connect with her, this foal deepened her background by sending me pictures of her former life -- another incarnation as a horse, only a horse from millions of years ago.  She at one time had been an Eohippus ("Dawn Horse") or similar horse ancestor, which was very much smaller in stature -- Eohippus, or Hyracotherium as it's been reclassified, stood only 10-20 inches at the shoulder.

She 'told' me that this life had been originally intended as a brief nostalgic trip.  She really just wanted to smell the air again and feel the earth beneath her, and not from much higher than her former form, before leaving again.  Still she was indecisive because she was intrigued, and a little intimidated, by the power and size of her descendants she was now among, and she was considering sticking around to experience what that would be like.

Holy crap! Not what I expected!

What I didn't know until after this exchange was that this filly was the daughter of a pair of draft horses and was big, 200 pounds, when she was born. Apparently, because of her size she was unable to unfold her legs or get much movement in the womb, so when she was born, her front legs were still bent up and she'd been unable to straighten them.  When I heard this a chill ran up my spine.  What better way to keep your view close to the ground than to be born under circumstances that kept your legs bent up?

On a side note, another trait of this particular foal is that she is a "Medicine Hat Horse."  A Medicine Hat horse is primarily white with a colored patch covering its ears and the top of its head, and through Native American lore these horses are said to be very special with magickal abilities.  If she does decide to stay, I am eager to see what kind of magick might follow her around.

Last night I found out that one of her legs had straightened out, so my friend's friend had braced the other one, enabling the young equine to take her first steps.  I could almost hear her saying to herself, "Okay. Let's see what this baby can do!"

So we'll see what she decides, to stay or to go.  Personally I hope she sticks around, at least long enough for me to meet her in the flesh.  But even if she doesn't, I am so grateful for this encounter and the insights it's afforded me.  Thank you little one, and my best wishes for you for greener pastures on whatever plane you decide to roam.