Alchemy at Work: The Golden Years

But more important, as I read and laughed at Dr. Suess’s kvetching, I realized that for me, these are, indeed, golden years. Lee and I have been divorced for almost 20 years, so right there you know I have not been a devoted wife non-stop. Or maybe even ever. But I find to my relief that I do seem to be a devoted former wife, and I can only attribute it to alchemy.


Cat in the Hat Aging

My former husband, Lee, slowed down in every way by Parkinson’s Disease,  lives in a nursing home where I visit him once a week, and yesterday was my day to visit. I opened a large envelope on his desk and out slid Dr. Suess’s feisty poem, a birthday card for Lee from dear friends John and Lyn.

He can’t read any more, so I read the card, along with the others he received, and we both laughed. He frequently can’t find the words he wants but his sense of humor is still intact. I am aware that in coming months or years it might not be, and as I have often in the past four years, I remind myself that this is the good time compared with what is sure to follow as the disease worsens.

Other friends in their 60s, 70s and beyond are struggling with what happens to a body as it wears out. I’m blessed (looking for some wood to knock as I type this) with a body that has shrunk 2 inches, prefers not to climb steps or hills in warm weather, and whose skin often tells me, “Enough already with the sun!” as my dermatological bills attest, but which is still strong. I can schlep and lift, and do.

More to the point, I can wheel Lee, who weighs over 200 pounds (five stars for the food at The Redwoods in Mill Valley), around the building, out to the beautiful garden there, and even down the block so he can watch the dogs play in the bayside dog park. I can also help him stand up and can easily bend down to pick up things on the floor.

But more important, as I read and laughed at Dr. Suess’s kvetching, I realized that for me, these are, indeed, golden years. Lee and I have been divorced for almost 20 years, so right there you know I have not been a devoted wife non-stop. Or maybe even ever. But I find to my relief that I do seem to be a devoted former wife, and I can only attribute it to alchemy.

After 15 years of living apart,  coming together mostly only for weddings and funerals, I became Lee’s manager: I moved him from Hawaii to an assisted living apartment in The Redwoods, equidistant from where our son and his family live 45 minutes to the south and my apartment 45 minutes to the north. I managed his care for the first two years.Old resentments and annoyances still pushed their way into my general willingness to help, but it was ok until the day I had to pull over onto the shoulder of the highway and sob. When I was mostly finished crying, I called our son and said, “Your turn.” and he said, “OK, don’t worry, Mom.”

We hired a care manager, a wonderful advocate, and I had two years off. In the crucible of  those two years, the base metals of my habitual responses to what I used to find difficult about him gave way.  When I resumed my role as manager in January of this year, I was relieved and grateful to notice how glad I was that I could be there for him, as I had always thought I would be. It amazes me, actually, how much I enjoy clipping his nails and even flossing his teeth. I am doing something necessary for someone I still love.

To be completely honest, I don’t discount that if Lee were still in control of his thoughts and words, he might insist that I do things his way, which would pique my good will. But his essentially passive, peaceful nature and desire to be likable dominate his personality. It’s not only easy to be with him, it’s pleasant.

There is a mutual appreciation that flows between us, the gold of this time we have. He tells me occasionally how much he appreciates me and kisses my hand. I remember the charm of loving him long ago and the love letters I wrote to him when he was travelling and I was living with my parents, waiting for him to come home so we could get married.

Haiku for Lee in England

The night star cloud

blows a bright ray

cross the heavens.

It soars through our souls.


I neither long for what we once had, nor do I hold onto the disappointments that festered during our 28 and a half year marriage. I am simply grateful for how we can love each other now. Pure gold.


Lakshmi with My Mother’s Face

Yesterday I had two big AHAs in one 5-hour workshop — a personal record, I think. And as I begin to write this, I realize it’s the second time I’m writing about money, and I don’t write many posts. Hmmm.

The name of the workshop (thank you, Susan Shloss of moneywisdomcoach.com ) was “The Inner Path to Prosperity.” While I’m generally not drawn to talks about money, show me something with “inner path” in the name and I’ll probably follow you almost anywhere.

Not long into the workshop, Susan asked us to sit quietly and imagine money. I saw gold coins in a treasure chest, piles of green bills, checks floating above my desk, and then, bam! A female figure completely fashioned of greenbacks appeared smiling, laughing, and coming toward me with her arms outstretched.

Her arms, I noted, were strong and lithe, unlike my relatively unexercised own, whose upper flaps make me think that Swift’s  “A Modest Proposal”  — with anesthesia — might be just the ticket. Her breasts were round and full, her legs were strong, and, like her arms, lithe, and I knew that she would be able to leap over mountains and chasms like a walk in the park.

As she came forward to embrace me, she said, with the relief of someone who has wanted to say something for a long time and finally gets to say it, “I’ve always wanted to be closer to you, but you’ve held me apart.”

AHA. She was right. I have always thought of lots and lots of money as something not really in my domain. Enter the famous New Age meme, “Energy follows thought.”

Later in the workshop, as my response to another prompt, I remembered a very old recurrent vision: I am a small girl, maybe eight years old, a member of a tribe of people with gold-red skin, dressed in skins and feathers. I am crouched on the ground in soft, red dirt, and I desperately want to sink into the ground and disappear,  because I ruined the food supply for my tribe. I didn’t mean to do it, but I was careless. I was hungry, and lifted up the lid of the box that held the grain. I ate some of the grain, and then didn’t secure the lid. Rain got in and spoiled all the rest. The tribe was decimated. Those who were left stood around me in a circle. I felt their punishing disappointment and anger. I dared not look up.

This was the version of the vision for many years. Then maybe ten years ago, I worked through it, determined to find forgiveness or learn how to heal my shame. In the vision, everything was the same until the point where I was aware that I didn’t dare look up. I knew this was my cue. Slowly, I first looked into the eyes of the chief. He was looking at me as if he had been waiting all that time for me to look up, and his expression was kind and pitying. He knew that I had been tormenting myself with my shame. I slowly looked at the next person, and the next, and the next. Every person in the circle around me — the tribe’s elders and those others who had survived — were looking at me gently, with kindness, love and understanding. I almost could not believe what I was seeing. There was no blame. The chief said, “We never blamed you. You were just a little girl. We knew you had not meant to cause harm. Get up. You are not to blame.”

When this scene came back to me yesterday, I heard the voice in my head say, “She is completely forgiven and was never blamed. Rise into the free access to the whole universe, yours for the taking. You knew this when you opened the food supply and felt free to take it. You were right then and and are still now. Breathe!”

AHA. My own self-limiting thoughts and doubts about my right to abundance have been at work.

Now onto Mom. My mother was, in her life, prudent, rational, and careful. She was not stingy and was generous in many ways, but her idea of how to spend money was conventional. In our early years of marriage, Lee and I had enough most of the time, but  were house poor for a few years. When we could, we went a bit into debt (after all, we rationalized, we had many years of earning ahead of us and would eventually come out OK,  and we were right) to go on vacation or buy a work of art. All our furniture was a hand-me-down or from thrift stores, and this lack of matching, modern furniture caused my mother to utter in tight frustration one day, “You spend money on the extras, but don’t have the basics.”

In 2010, she died, certain that with the death of the body, all consciousness ended.  Five hours later, she appeared to me with a sudden whoosh in my head. She was turning around and around in the middle of a bright white field, an expression of beautiful amazement on her broadly smiling face,saying, “Wow! Wow! Wow!” My father (who’d died in 1977) sat in the background, grinning. They both looked about 19.  She came to me three days later,  wrapped in mummy-like herringbone gauze up to her collar-bone, and she said, “I’m wrapping things up now and won’t be able to communicate for a while. But I’m going to be sending you wonderful things.”

Five years later, as I was driving across the country in my Big Move to California,  I was  looking for a inexpensive motel for the night, and suddenly saw her looking at me the way we look at our toddlers, urging them to walk. She looked at me with wide eyes, lifting her eyebrows, and said, “Spend more money! Be good to yourself! Who do you think is paying for this trip?” Truthfully, I had a lot of money (for me) saved up and could have stayed anywhere I wanted, but of course, I had an eye on stretching my resources as much as possible. So in fact, I was paying for the trip. But I understood that what she meant was that she was arranging things for me to my advantage much more lavishly than I was imagining and there was no reason for me to worry about money.

She occasionally still does visit, wafting blessings and encouragement to be generous with myself. Last winter she told me to get a luxurious, expensive new bathrobe. I’ve been looking but haven’t found the right one.

So now, in addition to loving my mother for all that she was to me as my flesh and blood Mom, I now know her as my Lakshmi, encouraging me to be generous with myself over and over again.

And this reminds me of the song I tried to sing but couldn’t, so I spoke it at her funeral. The original words by Reverend Karyl Huntley and Karen Drucker are slightly different, but I sang it as I had learned it:

You are my face of God.
I hold you in my heart.
You are a part of me.
You are my face of God.

I’ve Come into Four Trillion Dollars

And I realize that what I want to do is very simple and pervasive: to ensure that all over this Earth, compassion is the underlying force in all relationships.

Or maybe that’s not enough. Maybe the affirmation should be: “I’ve come into enough money to solve all the world’s problems and establish a lasting perfect balance for all life on this planet.”

But that begs a Faustian problem, so I’ve decided on the four trillion American dollars.

One of my favorite pastimes is fantasizing what I would do if I won — or, since I never buy lottery tickets, somehow just come into — a huge amount of money.  After all, the Universe can send me its bounty in any way it likes.

Here’s the way it usually goes:

  1. Of course I would take care of my kids’ and grandchild’s needs, my long-term care plans, yada yada yada.
  2. Figure out where we could all live without getting into each other’s hair but be close enough so I wouldn’t have to drive hours to be with them.
  3. Take my 60 best friends someplace for a vacation.
  4. Give my 20 best friends millions of dollars.
  5.  Hire a team of lawyers and financial managers who already work with the wealthiest philanthropists on the planet to help me distribute the bulk of my windfall to where it will do the most good.
  6. Of course, I’d change my email, go dark so I could be less accessible to all the sharks crazed by the blood smell of all my new money.
  7. And then I have fun thinking about the flowering of good, the joy of children who no longer suffer from the world’s greed and callousness, the forests that would be restored, etc, etc, etc.516w1O5MrML._SX355_

But today’s journey lifted me up on a whole ‘nother level.  I’d watched a movie last night in which Terence Stamp, playing a nasty rich guy who’s about to get murdered, says something about how everyone wants his 70 million dollars.

So I started at 70 million and thought I should aim higher than that. I went to a billion, and that sounded paltry.

Sidebar: one of the most influential stories I have ever read is “Bontshe Shvayg” (Bontshe the Silent) by Isaac Loeb Peretz, a late 19th/early 20th century Yiddish writer who advocated for the advancement of Europe’s downtrodden Jews.

As summarized here, “Bontshe is a victim of poverty and degradation who never complains about his miserable lot in life, so that when he dies he goes straight to heaven, greeted by a chorus of angels, and is invited by the highest judge of the heavenly tribunal to ask for anything he wants as his just reward.

And what is Bontshe’s greatest wish? “What I’d like most of all,” says Bontshe, “is a warm roll with fresh butter every morning.”

Hearing this, the judges and the angels hang their heads in shame, while the prosecutor breaks out in contemptuous laughter.”

Enter Marianne Williamson’s famous: ““Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. …”

dantes-paradise-empyrean-grangerAnd so four trillion dollars seemed right. As I floated into my fantasy, lying on a chaise long in the four o’clock sunshine, I began to feel as I do in my deepest meditations: my head felt light, and an exaltation — not of larks, but of my own deep joy ascending toward its source, my awareness of Self in a purer octave — carried me higher into that state of quiet resonance with less earthly realms. It’s where my self-as-angel whispers assurances that there is more power within me than I can imagine. That it’s long past the time when asking for a warm roll with fresh butter every morning can be passed off as humility. My soul, at home in Metatron’s  heart,  knows better. My playing small is an embarrassment to my deepest self-knowledge and, more crucially, a sin, because I am missing the mark of my existence.

I, and others like me, who strive and pray for the healing of the world, need lots and lots of what it takes to bring sweeping, lasting, root-nourishing changes. I realize that I want to talk to Ashton Kutcher, Bill and Melinda Gates, Warren Buffet, and JK Rowling for advice. I see myself as part of that mythic group of tycoons who meet once a year to decide where their money should go to provide the benefit worldwide, and I don’t feel like a newcomer in their midst, because I know there is work to be done and I’m on the team.

We need all the money it takes to create safety, nourishment, and encouragement for 516w1O5MrML._SX355_every child on this planet. This is what I will do when I get my four trillion dollars:

  1. Go to my son’s house immediately and tell him and my daughter-in-law after Calla is in bed. I can’t tell them over the phone or via email. For the first time in my life, I become concerned with privacy.
  2. Call my friend, Melynda, and say, “I’ve got to talk to you. I’m flying to wherever you are tomorrow.” Because she understands power, I hire her to be smart for me.
  3. Hire that aforementioned firm to hide me and my money. I mean, what do I do with a check for four trillion dollars? What are the implications for the bank into which I deposit it? Could the Redwood Credit Union handle all that?
  4.  Give millions to my brother, each of my first cousins and friends, my congregation and a few favorite charities right off the bat.  Of course I invite my kids to quit their jobs and help me create healing throughout the world or do whatever they want.
  5. Find out how I should evaluate the best ways to give away most of the money to save the world most securely and then give it away. My immediate priorities are:
    1. ensuring a Democratic win in the White House and Senate. I call my favorite Congressperson, an old friend, and take him out to lunch. I pass him a note that I tell him he has to read under the table so no hidden cameras can read it. It says: “I just won four trillion dollars. Will you work with me to help it do good in the United States?”
    2. getting all children everywhere out of danger and into permanent safety in loving arms.
    3. funding systems: education systems worldwide based on compassion, tolerance, forgiveness, creativity and appreciation
    4. access to abundant clean water and healthy soil
    5. in the Americas, somehow engage hate groups and drug lords and help them heal, using every possible intervention. I have a vision of a temporary (maybe three generations in duration) string of beautiful, spa-like respite, rehabilitation and engagement centers along the southern border in which all those seeking entry in to the United States are welcome, offered educational  and vocational opportunities, and are then offered citizenship.
    6. supporting peace initiatives and activities in the Middle East until there is solid cooperation and unity of humanitarian goals and processes

And I realize that what I want to do is very simple and pervasive: to ensure that all over this Earth, compassion is the underlying force in all relationships.

dantes-inferno-c1520-grangerBut I know, there’s still the Faustian problem and more fundamentally,  human nature, which will continue to create problems, because as surely as we are wired to hope and invent things, we are also wired to twist ourselves and our thinking into knots. And, for the first time in my life, the idea strikes me that maybe that’s why the church invented original sin.

516w1O5MrML._SX355_Could be that four trillion isn’t enough. I’m willing to take more.




What the Angel Said

I will not leave you. I will not turn my back on you, leaving you  to think that you have offended me. You can never offend Angel.

A big step, today,

Lying in the sunshine


I forgave myself

For being who I am


And this is how it comes upon me, this convers(at)ion.

And the angel, seeing our mass shock at the horrors we allow and from which we suffer in every way, said to all of us,

“I will not leave you. I will not turn my back on you, leaving you  to think that you have offended me. You can never offend Angel.

“I will not leave you. I do not and will not see the ugliness you see when you regard yourself by the standards touted as possible, all of them, all at once. I do not think you foolish for believing that anyone can meet all those standards, all of them, all at once.

“Remember, I see who you are as you created yourself to be in Sacred Mind, your true mind.

“If you regard yourself with kindness, you see a thwarted bloom. I see the whole garden with generations of your seeds of hope already grown, blossomed, and fruited, generously sweetening  and feeding the cosmos.

“You see a wasteland when you look through barely parted fingers cross your eyes, shamed by the heartless  bastards who think they win when you doubt yourself and who puff up as Croesius at your shrinking, self-debasing willingness to believe they are right. I see the innocence of your readiness to accept blame for what was never your sin.

“And even when I see the degradation you air in public – the contorted posing and jabbing and pointing of fingers, the ripping off of civility, the exposure of heinous desires and more heinous acts – I do not turn away. I bend my knees to rock back on my heels and hold out my arms to you.

“Remember, I see everything all at once. I see what makes you the way you are after you burst forth in your brilliance and someone’s fierce eye sears your sense of who you are. I see how you are made to stand by stiffly as if others’ pain is not your business. I see the way you copy – such a good job! – what your teachers teach you right down to what they don’t know they teach and you don’t know you learn.

“Do whatever it is you need to do to breathe. I am leaning close to you, blowing gently across your nostrils so that you can know the world you live in as offering you breadth. Keep waking up. You cannot fail.”


and the horse said, ‘I greet you in the name of all divine beings’

“I carry the message of wisdom in my being and I offer it to you with every breath. I do not limit my offer to you but to every being, and specifically to every being you bring into awareness of me.

Just in case I begin to think I have it all figured out — and I do, because foolish human I am – once in a while I walk into a glass door. (Note to Universe: don’t take me literally, I don’t need to smash my nose, thank you.)

As some of my earlier posts on this blog attest, I receive downloads from aspects of my totality that feel like other beings entirely — angels, guides, even a being who said to me, “I created you to experience joy…” or should I have written “a Being”?  Who are these downloads from?  AnImage result for angel angel?  Another aspect of my own multidimensional soul expression living in another part of the galaxy or in another dimension? An ascended master? Source? Can you even imagine that Source uses the first personal pronoun? I can’t, despite the evidence of that message.  It matters not, is what I’ve come to. These definitions just get in our way as we grope our way to the dream of experiencing the divine. I’ve given up on attempts to categorize. There are no meaningful categories. All is One.


adonai echad

Judaism’s central message is that there is only one life. We mortals who can imagine only in finite bits, fending off the chaos of a totality we cannot even imagine, must invent names for everything. Inventing names, we become attached to separation. Attached to separation, we fall in reluctant love with limits and become slaves to the safety there. But that’s a rant for another time.

The following is part of an intuitive conversation I had with a being in whose presence I felt great awe and delight.

I am the incarnation of a continuum of beings who love you, because that is the nature of existence: layers upon layers of possible realities and expressions of beings ready to spring into articulate life by the merest whisper of a vibration in you which pulls any particular answering vibration into being. Get it? You and all beings are Creator, and as the bible says, in the beginning was the word, and what that means is that the vibration of intention calls forth creation, neutron by neutron, and that’s the key to evolution. Things don’t just spring into manifestation full-blown except in the imagination (which is a real dimension); the vibration of intention makes potential shimmer and move until it bursts out of potential into actuality.

Angel? No. Ascended Master? no.

The name of the speaker is Maya Amaroo, a Rhodesian Ridgeback with whom I had initiated a conversation to ask a question her person had for her.

Since 2009 I have been serving as an animal communicator. From my very first session I have been consistently humbled and inspired by what I hear, see, and feel as I receive what flows through my mind during our conversations. Maya’s statement is typical.

As to the dynamics of these conversations, it’s simple, and exactly the same as when I seek guidance from those aspects of my larger, less ego-bound self/Self: I open to the field of all consciousness, focus on the animal, say hello, and immediately must be alert to whatever sails into my field of awareness. The hard part is being sensitive enough to recognize and “catch” the response, because it can be very subtle, and it’s most natural to dismiss whatever it is as nothing — an inner breeze of sorts, or random thought. But there’s nothing random about this process. It’s precisely the first thing that comes to mind, even if it’s not a mental sensation. It could be an itch, or a physical pain. Whatever it is, that’s the response, and I take it from there.

This post’s title is the title of a book I’m writing about these marvelous conversations. The greeting was the first thing I heard after I said hello to a horse named Malone.

Malone head
Malone, courtesy of Madison Corcoran

Here’s an excerpt from the book in which I introduce Malone and this unexpected radiance.

I open my awareness to Malone. It feels, as it always does when I approach a being with whom I am initiating a multidimensional communication session, like a gate opening in my mind, not so much a door opening as a falling away of a subtle barrier.

“Hello,” I say.

I hear immediately, “I greet you in the name of all divine beings, as represented in my consciousness as Equine Being. We are honored that you shine your consciousness on our expressions as Malone. How may we be of service to you?”

Oh, my heavens, I think, I am in a great presence. A Presence. I am awestruck, but I know that giving voice to my surprise will not further the conversation. I know I must stand in this clear field of possibility mirroring, as much as I can, the greater truth of my own consciousness in respect for the dignity and depth I feel from this horse. I feel that I have been granted an audience with a great spiritual teacher who radiates his compassionate wisdom in my direction as we speak. I feel a warm tingling in my crown chakra, and my heart is full.

I also teach classes and workshops in intuitive awareness. A technique I depend on because it’s so easy and effective is to give people an object to hold — often a small stone — while they close their eyes, eliminating the probability that sight will stimulate their automatic judgement or definition, which will get in the way of the intuitive process. I encourage them to open their awareness to what they’re holding and to say hello, or ask a question, and then to allow themselves to flow into an imaginary conversation or dream, if it feels like that.

So here’s the glass door I mentioned: for all that I’ve talked and written about how we are all mirrors for each other, and that we are all vessels holding the divine, it didn’t occur to me until I was writing the preface to this book that animals can be as much a focus for us to use in developing our sensitivity to our intuition as a stone. And as I write that, I laugh at the absurdity. Good heavens, if we can have a conversation with a stone, isn’t it obvious that we can have a conversation with an animal? How did I ever miss that?

Actually, I know the answer: it’s hard to see that animals can be a focus in the same way that a stone does because like us, animals seem to go about their own business with their own agenda. Animals can seem to have problems, be ornery, needy, even annoyingly indiscriminately loving everyone, and be too full of their own limitations, as we are, to serve as a scrying glass.one with everythiung

Aah, but there we’re wrong. Animals may exhibit behaviors that are all those things and more. They may bite, kick, growl and chase everything in sight, but, in my experience, they all are aware that they are, like the Dalai Lama’s pizza, one with everything.

They seek to help their humans experience the joy and love that rises from living authentically.

This is more of Malone’s message to his beloved person, Madison, through me.

“I am here having come from afar, having travelled in consciousness from vision united to individuation, as all of us have made the journey. My Kind is less aggravated by individuation that is your suffering kind, complicated by too much thinking, and so I offer my vibrational being to Madison and now to you as her agent to teach, assure, and revel in the awareness you bring to this encounter and to the unity of all being. I am aware of Madison’s journey. She has come to a point of desire to experience unity and has chosen wisely in choosing me to be her colleague and mentor and servant.”

He addresses Madison directly, knowing that I am serving only as a conduit. This is a common pattern I experience in communication sessions with other animals.

“Madison, every time you look at me, I see in your eyes a hunger for unity with self. I can offer you that when you blend you physical being with mine as we ride and I can also by every other physical encounter we have. The physical is the most obvious connection, and yet you have only to sit in my presence to feel my knowing pour into you in every place you open: your mind, your heart, your skin; your energy centers, especially. If you will place your hand on each of my energy centers and the other hand on your own, there will be a magnificent transferal of energy and healing as you wish to a much greater degree than you had imagined possible.

“I carry the message of wisdom in my being and I offer it to you with every breath. I do not limit my offer to you but to every being, and specifically to every being you bring into awareness of me. If you make photographs of me public and invite people to look at me and open their hearts, they will receive blessing.

You never know where those glass doors might be. I’ll tell you about the ones I find and will appreciate your doing the same for me so that we can both travel more wisely.

It was there all the time.

And so I searched for an image that would by its very nature blatantly evoke the idea of sparkling light as an external fact. It did not occur to me to refer to my own truth about what it is that we communicate naturally, unstrategically, and without being able to help ourselves: we communicate who we are. 


I’ve begun a new venture: a part-time revival of the strategic communications consulting practice that helped send Seth to college while my husband and I continued to pay our mortgage and go on a few vacations.

So I set out to create a new business card. Because my creative process is often a jumble of words and images at the outset,  I started with both a word and a visual. The name I chose to encompass my new venture is Lightspeak, a name I’ve used for many years to hold the intuitive work I do. Therefore, of course, I wanted the card to show light. I played in the fields of Adobe for several hours and when I thought I had a first draft, I posted the card on facebook for  review and input by my creative, generous friends. You, yourself, may have offered your perceptive, supportive, critical advice, which caused me to revamp the card until I thought it would do quite nicely.

Lightspeak Strategic Communications

I was ready for the next step: a website. As soon as the word “website” sat in my consciousness, I realized, a bit aghast, that no, this image would not do.  Don’t ask me why — I just knew. To tell you the truth, the thought of all that yellow full size on a screen made me gag. I know I could have used the image smaller, but I wanted a large visual display.

And so I searched for a new image. I googled “sunlight through trees” — too much “the-voice-of-God.” “Sunlight on water” brought too much visual turbulence.  Then I remembered that I had taken some photos of my favorite place on the planet, the Hudson River just above Rockwell Falls in Lake Luzerne, and I made a new card.

Lightspeak communications Luzerne

And oh, my goodness, I felt like I had come home, found Mother after being lost in a store, awakened from a strange dream of artificiality. Of course that was the image to use.

That image pulses in my heart always. That is the view, whether in real life or as a photo, that fills me with peace.  When I am actually there, sitting on the large, flat rocks (out of sight in this photo), listening to the water rushing past me and the leaves rustling in the breeze, I feel my molecules becoming congruent with the place itself. I have commented to friends that I believe that if I were a specific bit of geography, I would be that place.

Long ago I had Vistaprint put it on a mousepad; I painted tiles to look like it and created a large ceramic work of art to hang over the stove in my last Schenectady kitchen. I ordered a version of it as wide as my bed as a headboard in my Rohnert Park bedroom, and a smaller version to hang along with some gorgeous photos of the delicious jade green Yuba River in my living room.

In all my life, there are two images that open my heart wide, wide, wide as the cosmos: Seth’s kindergarten picture and this.

Seth 5.jpg

So why did I spend hours looking for images on the web? Why did I forget that like Dorothy, I had what I needed right here at home?

Because I thought I was looking for a image to go on a business card, as if my business self had to be, of course would be, different from my real self. That rings true, doesn’t it? That’s the old paradigm.  I grew up with adults who believed that that was the way things had to be, and they promulgated the schism in their own not-so-virtuous business practices. And I, a vocal proponent for authenticity, for honoring the heart and the path within, fell into step with the line of drone-thinkers. Even remembering that “the personal is political,” I assumed that I needed to step outside my sacred, loving self because I was launching a new business venture. And so I searched for an image that would by its very nature blatantly evoke the idea of sparkling light as an external fact. (I suppose that the ability to keep catching myself in embarrassing points of view is a good thing, a sign that I am not static.)

It’s all personal.

It did not occur to me to refer to my own truth about what it is that we communicate naturally, unstrategically, and without being able to help ourselves: we communicate who we are.

Good heavens — that’s the whole point of what I do for people: I help them find how to be the person they want to communicate to others, and then I offer suggestions for how to design their communication with a plan in mind.

When I placed that scene at the top of my new business card, a giddy anticipation flooded my self-awareness. I felt myself releasing what I had not known was a tight hold on the reins of my being in the world, finding a natural gait I had never dreamed possible. I could trust myself to be who I am not just in my private, chosen communities, but everywhere.

I knew then that the only light I could offer my clients would be the light sparkling within me — as a mirror for their own. It’s my light that I offer, not some external fabrication. It’s my joy that sparks a mirroring hopefulness and eagerness in people who invite me to help them craft a version of themselves to bring into the world.

And what’s more, a new certainty rose up in my heart, surprising myself as I watch myself initiate yet another project. Before I left the world of business and salaries and working every day at something I didn’t always enjoy,  I had projected that “retirement” would be empty of external agendas and activities, leaving lots of time for wandering in nature and making art. I laughed out loud with unforeseen delight at the realization that just broadcasting myself through this image is satisfying all by itself, as satisfying as any painting I have ever finished.

Hmm. In fact, the joy of this broadcasting of self  closely approaches a vision I have not shared publicly before.

I love an audience. That’s not knew to anyone who knows me even a little. But now, this:

Eccomi: I see myself standing on a proscenium stage before an immense crowd — at least 5,000 people. Maybe more. The hot spotlight makes my face flush. Anyone sitting in the audience sees not the colors of the clothes I am wearing, but a hazy, bright shape, the light is that bright. I look at the crowd, seeing it not as a jammed-in mass of individuals, but as a pulsing, living being whose gaze I feel as a welcome invitation to announce, finally, after all this time, why I am here and what I have to offer.

I place my hand at the indentation at the bottom of my throat and move my hand down to the bottom of my torso,  unzipping myself. Placing my hands over, not touching, each side of my body, the left hand over the left side and the right hand over the right, I slowly  open my arms, bringing my hands out and away from my body completely. The light around me intensifies as I  butterfly myself, revealing and releasing from its hiding place within my flesh all the Source light within, my essential being. This light uncovers and magnifies every single truth about me. I am naked beyond naked, available for and unprotected from perusal, research, study, critical observation and discussion, wonderment and love,  and as a model of willingness to serve. I am human.

This is what we all are. We are transparent and totally visible to everybody all the time, but we need to believe that we live in an opacity that affords us privacy, because the enormity of what begins to happen to us as soon as we slide out of our first cave is terrifying, confusing, and impossible for our finite minds to hold.

Moreover, I know that each one of us, each amoeba, each cell of every body in creation, is also essentially this light seeking recognition and unification with every other expression of creation. I invite you to stand up on this stage with me. My unrelenting dream is to share this stage with everybody, all of us relaxing into the surrender of our fears to our unguarded, radiant truth.

And oh my goodness, in these words, I have just fulfilled my vision as surely as if we were really in that theater. I bow to your generosity with gratitude. Namaste.



Getting to Global Wiring: And the Angel Said

And the angel said, “What I tell you in the middle of the day with the sun hot overhead, what I whisper to you in the middle of the night when you hear your name and don’t know who it is calling to you, when I send a shiver up your spine for no apparent reason at all, that’s when you know.”

And the angel said,”What would you do if you allowed yourself to be the angel all the time? What would you do?”

A few weeks ago, at our first potluck in the aftermath of the ravaging fires, I had a spontaneous conversation in the kitchen here at Ner Shalom with two members of our congregation, in which I recounted my 1980 conversation with the great teacher and founder of the Jewish Renewal movement, Rabbi Zalman Schachter Shalomi, of great blessing.

That conversation was a result of my recently having read a book which changed my thinking about what is for many Jews, certainly to many Jews of my generation and earlier, the other C word. Christ. (The book was “Revelation: The Birth of a New Age” by David Spangler .) I wanted to talk to my family and other dear Jewish friends about a dynamic concept I had never imagined.

So I asked Reb Zalman, “How do you talk to Jews about Christ?”

“Aaaah,” he said, and looked to the side, the way we do when we’re looking for an answer that’s not on the tip of our tongues.

And then he said, “Talk to them about the angel Michael.”

Well, my Reform Jewish family was not ready to think about angels, either, but I have thought a lot about angels since then, and have encountered what I believe to be angelic presences.

So it’s not surprising that when I heard Francis Weller say, in the New School at Commonweal presentation here recently, that as human beings “we are not wired” for the global magnitude of information which sears our hearts and throws us way out of balance, I began to think about how we might possibly be able to hold a global load.

And I thought about the possibility that the self we are aware of — that self we call “I” – is just part of a larger identity which is our birthright as beings made in the image of the Creator. In my intuitive energy work, I see and feel and hear evidence of a larger, more radiant, and more powerful version of who we are.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I don’t know how we can make the jump from the locally wired human being to the globally wired human being, but the possibility intrigues, inspires and pulls me.

And so I asked. And I am going to tell you what I heard because maybe my story will tickle your story.

And the angel said, “What I tell you in the middle of the day with the sun hot overhead, what I whisper to you in the middle of the night when you hear your name and don’t know who it is calling to you, when I send a shiver up your spine for no apparent reason at all, that’s when you know.”

And the angel said,”What would you do if you allowed yourself to be the angel all the time? What would you do?”

I would sing everywhere song appeared in my being.

I would sway when the inner wind blows.

I would not hesitate to tell people how much I love them. I would hug them and rock them against my breast, I would caress them and tell them how wonderful they are and how I marvel at their courage.

I would look at people openly to SEE them as often as I wanted.

I would not let fear stop me, ever. Fear of alienating people, fear of embarrassing people, fear of increasing their pitiable stress, fear of standing out and being noticed.

Is it not for that that I am here? To be noticed, perhaps laughed at but then brought home in the laugher’s mind and heart to wonder, “what if..”

Is it not what I am here to do, to hold myself in the light and make noise in the darkness so others can see how it may be possible for them, too, to live out loud, to live in joy, to live in paradox with forgiveness and sorrow and celebrate all at once? Is it not what I am here for, to whisper, “Can you hold your image this way, so you see it differently? Can you hold the mirror higher, so you can see how the light makes you shine through and through?”

To do this, to live with the angel speaking and seeing and hearing and moving through the public mirror, makes me quake sometimes. Often. Most of the time, and that’s why I make smaller gestures, watch my words, wait to think. It’s what makes places civilized, this waiting and watching, this calculus of human response.

Civilization tames the wild, and often I rail at that while I carry it out, myself, in myself, as well as wishing, “Sha, shtill,” so often, in so many situations. My mother biting her lips to keep from saying what she knows will hurt.

What would I do if I allowed myself to be the angel all the time?

I would not wait. I would love more openly and more generally, and not stop because I thought people would think me weird. I would be weird in the world and show people its powerful beauty.

I would stop asking what I would do if I allowed myself to be the angel all the time.

I would shift the arc of my vision to the angelic plane and take my cues from there. I would raise my arms to the shoulders of the great ones and see how well I fit, modulating the tensions and stiffness wherever I found it, to stand in their pulsing, golden circle, indistinguishable from the others.

And the voice said, “I will take you where you need to go, I will wrap My Being around you beyond your control and I will take you, and you will not be able to resist, and know that just as I am leading you, so I am also leading every other, and there is nothing you can do about that, either.

“Do you think that I am your light only? No, I am the Light, completely and solely the beam along which every single being travels, and others’ light may look different than the one you see as coming from Me for you, because their needs are different than yours. But don’t think for one nanosecond that you are anyone else’s light.

“I and only I am the Light with the power to direct and heal. You are not in control. I am the Light, I am Source, Source eternal and forever, and you can relax and be confident that you are My responsibility and I am forever.”

The Sun said this to me, and I felt completely absolved of the sense of obligation, of the folly of feeling responsible for others’ well-being that I had allowed myself to believe was a virtue.

We each ride a ray of Light, each ray configured through the magic of DNA, soul memory and God knows what else. I think of Reb Zalman’s encouragement when I need to rise above the leaden ache in my gut. I know that shimmering above me, or at my side, is the greater presence of my Self that holds the global awareness the smaller I can’t. I believe that that presence shimmers for all of us, and that when we need to breathe more deeply, think more clearly, and find the stability we need, we will find ourselves anew in that Human 2.0, which Jean Houston calls the Quantum Human, Barbara Marx Hubbard calls Homo Universalis, Carolyn Myss calls Homo Noeticus, and others call Homo Divinus and Homo Galactica.

Maybe there IS something new under the sun, and it’s us.

quantumn human

Unlimited Possibilities

In these things and in all matters of encountering consciousness in and through other species, it is important to remember that you are here as divine agents. As carriers of the manifest love of the universe, as facile sensors of Creator. You are eyes and fingers and sensitive skin of the ongoing creator of all life, whether you think of that creator as creatrix, Mother Nature, God, The Universe, or any other set of letters and numbers which you string together to convey to yourself the meaning which most serves you.

I have been an animal communicator, having meaningful conversations with other species, for many years. Some of these conversations changed my ideas about who animals are and what they think about. Many of them moved me to tears, opened my heart, and helped me embrace life more tenderly than I had been able to before.

So I decided recently to share some of these conversations in a book. Today, I finished the first several short chapters, in which I described the method of communication I learned, and as I typed “Chapter 7”, preparing to get to the juicy part, my mind filled with thoughts I had not planned, a download from Source.

Welcome to my world today, whenever today is that you are reading this.

In these things and in all matters of encountering consciousness in and through other species, it is important to remember that you are here as divine agents. As carriers of the manifest love of the universe, as facile sensors of Creator. You are eyes and fingers and sensitive skin of the ongoing creator of all life, whether you think of that creator as creatrix, Mother Nature, God, The Universe, or any other set of letters and numbers which you string together to convey to yourself the meaning which most serves you.

There is no one way to address or think of or frame this creator force, this Source, the essence of being, and there is no one way to confine, define, or condense the All into a form and a linear construct which you can perceive with meaning toward your own progress, the purpose of your  life. Yes, the purpose of your life is to make progress toward the completion of you journey, and each journey begins and ends in the undefined infinite All of Source.

This book is intended to help you find another expression and form of your own radiantly precious identity. You are human, and you are angel, and you are animal. You are Creator, and every other created being is Creator, and I give all of these to you as mirrors, that you may see yourself in an unlimited mirror for all the possibilities you possess and express in your own life. Your life allows you to choose among the myriad possibilities of any one moment in any of the unlimited dimensions to which you may have allowed yourself access. Only you control this access. Only you decide which is permissible and which is not, according to your beliefs and your sense of what is, what is not, and what is safe.  Only you decide that one way is too much challenge, and another way is folly. Only you are the arbiter of every nuanced iota of your life.

There is no limit to how you may know yourself and what you may find useful to that exploration. The story of the tree of good and evil is expression of choice and consequence. Every possibility has an opposite and equally potent  version. There is good possible in every choice, and there is no end to the experiments you may and you can conduct for yourself as you create the paths of your life.

Let this book show you that what is true for you is also true for other beings, beings who are clothed in bodies that use four legs, that are covered in fur, and whose embodied souls are kin to yours.

Find blessing in your lives at every turn. Let the mirrors you find in this world and in all other worlds to which you give yourself access serve you in joy wherever possible, and always for growth. Let the singing spheres and glowing winds caress you and bring you comfort in this great challenge.

We are yours to love and to rail at. We are the ONE you call home in every breath.

Selah. I AM.

Gracie Christine Donati pig

Entering the Dance of Blessing

It is now time to bring that reality to pass, in all you do, in all you say to each other and to yourself, in what you eat, drink, in whom you love and when, in the work that you do, and in the games that you play. It is the time of transformation in more material ways that you ever thought possible in your pretend self, the one who made up all those pictures whose burning light created the glory of the self you have allowed yourself to see. Let it all come to pass. Let yourself love unashamedly. Let the tears come, let them flow. Let the laughter fall out of your mouth. Let the ears pick up the innuendos of acceptance and admiration, and let the eyes see all levels of creation in its great beauty. Let the song of creation within the human mind and heart travel to its apex, to begin the second phase of becoming who you are.

One of the most powerful downloads I received in past years was a transmission of instructions as facilitator of my local gathering to mark the Harmonic Convergence in 1987.  I have wanted share it more broadly, but have not done so yet, embarrassed, frankly, to have let so much time go by. My embarrassment led me to rationalize that it could not possibly still be relevant.

But that’s small thinking, and entirely dismisses the nature of eternity, our matrix. I asked about this today. Here’s what I received:

Once received, no matter how sequestered, a message never loses its relevance. There is value for the student of history, for objective study and for appreciation of the idea, even if the idea’s vibrational magnetism pales in the stronger light of a more contemporary message.

You hold in great reverence and tender memory the directions we gave you at the time of the Harmonic Convergence and again at the Harmonic Concordance. Those messages still hold power, and entering their dance blesses the dancer.

The times now are as to that time and those directions as is quantum physics to the Law of Gravity: a multidimensional multiplication of a basic principle.

If you have been opening yourselves to the continuum of the increasingly evolving frequency to which you have access, you will have increased your capacity to hold paradox, treasure, and possibility beyond what you would have believed possible 20 years ago.

No: you would have believed it, but not have been able to project its trajectory. Now, with patience and careful recall, you could track your evolved ability.


I would appreciate knowing  to whom I may attribute this image.If you are or know the artist, please contact me.


You can now hold in one hand what once felt like a moving, often invisible web pulsing over your whole being.

Here are the original  instructions I received for the Harmonic Convergence.

Way long, He ‑ ya‑ hey, tell the fishes and the trees that all is light now, and there is no more fire to fear. He who is watching is here in the form, the way is clear for the fishes and the trees. The way is open for the babies and the worms below, for the insects and the birds to become one in their longing for each other.

The way is open for all the fire to descend into the hearts of the yearning, for the flow of the river to quench the burning of distress. You are one with us, and your mouth is our mouth. Your hands are our hands, as our heart is yours. The eyes see what they need to.

Is there a message I can share especially at this time which will bring great joy and beauty?

Three yarns spin around each other, forming one. The rope thusly formed is stronger than the greatest rift, formed in the deepest oceans, the highest heights. Each of you is a carrier of the rope, for in each of you there is a strand as close to you as your own genetic code, as far thrown from you as your dreams have allowed you to see, and constantly thrumming you toward the next person, toward every next person ‑ he whom you see on the street, she whom you try to avoid in the public place. Every next door neighbor is your cosmic mate, the one who could set you free.

If you could only see this there would already be such planetary peace that the universe would spin faster, the balance of nature on all planes would be like a spider’s thread, weaving quickly a net of ineffable beauty in which all could walk without getting caught. The message to heed now is:

Do your best. Don’t be nervous. The time is here. Accept what you have done, and see it in the best possible light. Nothing is lost. Regret will only make the hurt worse, and forgiveness, wherever it can be found and applied, will bring a song to even the tightest lips and the coldest heart.

Everywhere the tolls have closed, the gates are open.

See this image in your meditations and your plans. See the gates, the tollbooths, as open, no more tolls, no more fines, the police have declared a holiday. Those who will commit the crimes have already been jailed by their own acts and fears. Those who are left are singing and dancing in the streets. Hear the jubilation as every heart unfolds its cautious wings.

It may take a while, but gradually you will see all with whom you come in touch manifesting this.

flame-181271__340Picture yourself before the fire of all that has been. It carries your own personal history, showing you in fire‑ pictures those scenes from your life that you would like to be free of. The fire is a bonfire, lit through love, and you have thrown into it only those insensate old pictures which you have no more use for. Old hurts, gone. Old relationships where the growth stopped a long time ago, have turned into photographs, now curling and disappearing painlessly.

There is no sacrifice, but only the joyous discarding of the old, worn‑out, ill‑fitting, out‑dated imaginings. With each picture that you see burning, you see its new form emerge, in beautiful colors, from the top of the bonfire. The phoenix of love carries each old, discarded bit of human energy up to its newly evolved, useful, and beautiful form.

As you watch the fire you recognize these new forms opening their hearts to you, as they float slowly and gracefully towards you. You take each one into your heart, and you become lighter. With each new hope, new possibility, with each phoenix‑transformed future, you become lighter, until you are literally hovering around the fire.

You raise your arms to embrace all that you have allowed to come to pass, all this beauty and promise, and you touch the hand of he or she who sits on either side of you. You notice that the touch of your neighbor is the touch not of skin, but of sun‑warmth, and it vibrates with a song that your hand carries up your arm, down into your heart, and which sings its way through your circulatory system. As it makes its way through your being, you sense it as it adapts in clarity, style, and melodic patterns to each section of your anatomy, bringing cooling refreshment to parts of your body that need cooling, and bringing warmth and vigor to those parts of you that long for stimulation and expansion. You can feel your very molecules changing for the better, adapting immediately and joyously to this instant medicine of cosmic love and harmony that you have brought into yourself by virtue of having been willing to let go of the outdated, useless, and tired pictures of your life.

In your new state, you ask yourself to see the path that lies in front of you. Immediately there is a flood of light, sound, loving and sensual touching that leads you and is in fact the path you were born to finish. This is the last path you will have to travel. It leads directly home, where you can continue to play and serve as you wish. You may take as long as you like to travel on this path, or you may fly there right now and reach your very greatest and most beautiful dream at once.

As you move through your path, you are aware of all those who share it with you, and you feel their great outpouring of love illuminating and refreshing you, as your natural energy in this state serves and delights them in exactly the same way. Now observe those others on your path, and see how gradually their arms, legs, wings, hair, eyes, all shimmer in a transformative orgasm and become melded into the one being that you are.

You, the cosmic one, are traveling along the path you created with your perfect love at the moment of your imaginings, the moment of the awakening into your creator dream. You see the shadows of the future of light which you have created for yourself, and you weep with the joy of recognition, as you see your soul’s home, you hear your soul’s music, and you are transfixed with the unutterable and exquisite sense of pure being.

This is the life you bring yourselves at this time, and this is the destiny you decided on in your creator self. It is now time to bring that reality to pass, in all you do, in all you say to each other and to yourself, in what you eat, drink, in whom you love and when, in the work that you do, and in the games that you play. It is the time of transformation in more material ways that you ever thought possible in your pretend self, the one who made up all those pictures whose burning light created the glory of the self you have allowed yourself to see.

Let it all come to pass. Let yourself love unashamedly. Let the tears come, let them flow. Let the laughter fall out of your mouth. Let the ears pick up the innuendos of acceptance and admiration, and let the eyes see all levels of creation in its great beauty. Let the song of creation within the human mind and heart travel to its apex, to begin the second phase of becoming who you are.

Your guides are at your right hand, holding all the tools you need. Your teachers are ahead of you, checking your progress and dropping hints in your life path whenever you seem to have lost your balance. All the music and people and food you have ever loved are still nourishing you, and the ideas which brought you hope are becoming real in many ways on the earth plane, as your earnest and loving labor brings the earth plane closer to its vibrational source, to the original vibration out of and through which it was created.

You are the glorious instruments of this salvation. You are those who have volunteered your energy and created bodies to be the levers and rakes, the machines of divine creation into the next order of creation available to this plane.

You approach the higher planes even now, as you celebrate among friends new and old. Every moment of your life, especially from now on, you are in partnership with the divine.

The angels look to you for guidance. Your orders are paramount.

Your will has been imbued through your willingness to sacrifice and your insistence on justice. Use your wonderful selves well, as you go through your commencement.


What I know now is that planetary transformation took a huge, noticeable leap in 1987, and it’s not so much that we began, but that we tumbled along as best we could. The energies rising from the center of every smallest particle of being. swirling around  and within us, are still transforming life on this planet. In 2017 we are calling it chaos and wondering what really is happening.

No One is More Important Than The Beloved

We are the holders of hope until those who have hands can take our sweet burden which is never a burden at all from us. We are the whisperers of allah’s perfumed garden, the justifiers of the right to be happy.

As time went on in 1980, the downloads from my expanded consciousness were more focused, and I needed less and less to be aware of the mechanism.

In honor of our upcoming day of love, here is a thread of transmissions, just as I received them, about love.

9/22/80 (The importance of love)
In affairs of the heart, no one is more important than the beloved. The beloved is not only the object of affection – the person who is loved, but is also the yearning inside to love, the small hot space of movement and direction toward the light inside that is satisfied only by the act of loving.

To be loved in return is not even as satisfying as the act of loving. He for whom we wait in attendance ( I had received some prior information about the idea of an immanent Messiah, or World Teacher) , as I am now attending thee, is such a lover as those who love indiscriminately, loving the feeling of love inside.

We are doing the equivalent of tenderly stroking the beloved’s face and neck, gently preparing the beloved for the reception that will be his to put forth. Every act we do should be characterized by the underlying “imaginary” act of stroking in this way.

Getting angry at a child, resentful of another adult, any negative thing can be balanced by the intent over-all to love, and the keeping in the heart of the desire to feel this most wonderful of all gifts of creation. It is for this reason that we have brought you again into our active circle. Your statement that you are a lover was the key. It is heard and reverberates, literally, in the air.


The prayer flags of the orient are effective, as is the spoken word. The silence of the thought makes itself known in the intent to create, and in the realm of thoughts being made manifest, but nothing is as strong as the spoken word releasing its vibration to the universe.

10/80 (a blessing)
We love you. Sister of souls past, lover of the divine love within, seek the directions where love is most evident, leave behind the clutter of hardened memories for others, iron-clad, to ponder. Not for you is the battle field with its terror of meanness, but more to the sunlight and souls in flower. The balance is well fed. The times to wander in are those which nourish, not challenge, thy soul. The cow that gives the sweetest milk is she who has grazed in the sweetest fields resplendent with lush flowers thriving under the rays our lord sun and the gentle mists and baths of Leiche (pronounced /lye-kee/).

Peace to you and to all those who nourish thee, sweet sister, lover divine, and mother of hopes. We have missed your kind company and long for your recognition of our dwelling places, so we can communicate on a more conscious level with thee.

I asked, “Who are you?”

We are the holders of hope until those who have hands can take our sweet burden which is never a burden at all from us. We are the whisperers of allah’s perfumed garden, the justifiers of the right to be happy.

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