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

Into the Column of Light

Something in us says “Thank you.” Is the voice from ourselves, or is it part of the wave? It doesn’t matter. It feels like a blessing, a relief, a cessation of tension, a dropping of the shoulders.

I invite you to step with me into a column of light – if you’d like to say “an imaginary column of light” that’ll do just as well – serving as an axis on which our planet spins. This column of light is so bright, we cannot open our eyes while we are inside it, even with sunglasses.

(If you want to really let go and be guided through this, give your eyes a break and just listen.)

So we take a few steps back, and a few steps more, until it feels safe to open our eyes. So we do, and may have to shield our eyes as we perhaps take a few more steps back. This light is brilliance.

Now we find ourselves standing on – maybe even floating above – whatever serves as the ground or the floor in this imaginary place, and we notice that we are part of a throng of silent watchers, all peering into the column of light. The throng is at least ten people deep. We’re all fixed on this shimmering luminosity that fills our vision.

There is a faint vibration – a slow wave of relaxing warmth that flows toward and through us from the light. Something in us says “Thank you.” Is the voice from ourselves, or is it part of the wave? It doesn’t matter. It feels like a blessing, a relief, a cessation of tension, a dropping of the shoulders.

We now see that from the column of light, extensions of light extend all around it like long, slender bridges. If we stretch our arms and hands toward the light, we can almost touch these bridges. Somewhere in our bodies there is an answering reaching out, a part of ourselves coming forward to meet and embrace this light, to give and receive a healing welcome. It feels like coming home.

As we tingle with a resonance of communication with the light, we feel or hear a question either coming to us or flowing out from us, or perhaps it is an answer to an unanswered question that is coming into us with clarity, and we think, “Of course!’ or “Really?” or….

Notice your question, or the answer that came into you. Hold it with appreciation. This is part of your authentic wisdom, for you to use, or simply to note. You have no obligation to do anything with it. You can enfold yourself with your light-infused arms and slowly, gently withdraw into solitude, a blessed and blessing being.

Or, if you would like to see how you can weave what has become part of you in this moment into an aggregate strength in the quiet, receiving throng around you, turn around now, away from the column of light. Notice that there is a pattern of beams of light through the assembly. Allow yourself to become aware of a resonance in some part of those around you, whether close or very far away. Move, if only in your mind, toward that resonance. Notice how you become aware of any changes in yourself as you approach that resonance.

Enjoy the fluctuations of light, warmth, sound, sense of place, or even memory, or anything and everything else as you move.

You may find yourself melding with the resonance, so that you feel you have joined with another being. You are still yourself. You still have the ability to separate, to instantly find yourself where you started, or even clear of this imaginary place completely.

And you also have the ability to dwell in this harmony of being as long as you like, and to store in within yourself in a way that you can revisit it any time you like.

When you feel yourself moving away from this moment, see if there is a part of you that remains in the other’s beam of light, and notice if and how you have taken in some of the other’s essence into yourself.

When you notice that you are completely separate from the central axis of light, breathe quietly, finding a word, a phrase, an image, a sound or a feeling that you can carry back with you into your everyday world. Let this word, a phrase, image, sound or feeling be a touchstone you carry with you. Bring it into your awareness when you need a moment of peace, a cessation from worry, or a brief visit home.

In the Beginning

A friend in my workplace asked me what it was like and I had to think a minute before finding the right image. “It feels as if I am somehow standing aside, an empty tube, or a channel through which all these words and images are flowing.” I had never encountered the word that came to be so popular that we don’t even want to use it anymore: channelling.

People have asked me how I began channeling.

First of all, when it began happening, I had never heard of or read any accounts that described what I was feeling. A friend in my workplace asked me what it was like and I had to think a minute before finding the right image. “It feels as if I am somehow standing aside, an empty tube, or a channel through which all these words and images are flowing.” I had never encountered the word that came to be so popular that we don’t even want to use it anymore: channelling.channel

What you’ll read here is a truncated version of the story, and the juice is in the awkward sputterings through the faucet when I turned it on for the first time. I’m sharing these first downloads exactly as I wrote them down at the time because they may serve to bolster confidence and offer calm to anyone who is now opening to her or his own expanded awareness and experiencing words and images pouring into her head from somewhere that doesn’t feel familiar.

In 1980 I stepped up into the RV which the much-praised psychic, David Massengill, had parked on a friend’s country lawn. He told me there were guides waiting for me to be ready to receive information. Their names were Andreas and “Master Matthias.” I wasn’t into the whole “Master” thing – a carry-over, I thought, from the antiquated Alice Bailey material. But I suspended my disbelief, sat – enthralled — through a two-hour session and stepped down onto my friend’s lawn quite changed, and ready for action of biblical proportions.

David told me that my guides wanted to set up a schedule, and added, grinning at my raised eyebrows, “They have schedules, too.”

On the appointed date and time, July 30, 1981, at 1:45, I sat at my desk, a fresh sheet of paper in my typewriter, and closed my eyes. I saw a man’s face, which seemed to be laughing and twinkling. This image lasted for a second. A fullness rose in my throat, blossoming as an immense pink flower with seven rounded petals. The petals expanded. I wondered if I should stop, concerned that this soft growth could not possibly fit in my throat.

As this was happening, I had several impressions, and typed out the following words:
The water running through me creates a mirror down the center of me. Oh my soul I see you and reflects the lights lords from above. The reflection is a solid shaft of light that passes through my pink flower throat chakra into my mind where it is channeled into its proper places to begin functioning efficiently toward the purpose. The more water I drink the brighter the reflection, which is the communication they told me about.

This gobbledygook didn’t make sense in any linear way, but it felt wonderful. I trusted that there had been a connection with my guides and the tip of eternity they held open as a door into Discovery. I was content that my soul, through the opening of my throat chakra, was now firmly connected to the Source of all being, to the divine, to all I had never even dared hope would be revealed to me. And so now I felt I was one with a kind of future that would be informed by my higher self.

I drew a picture of the flower I had felt pushing out the boundaries of my throat, and tacked it up right in front of me on my bulletin board at work. I felt beautiful whenever I looked at it. (I have searched in vain for it, to include it here, but alas. Perhaps it will surface later.)

Also on July 30, my doctor called. He said that upon reviewing my record, he noticed that back in November, he had noticed a swelling of my spleen and my liver, he was concerned, and wanted to put me through some tests in the hospital. I was scared.

I continued with my normal activities as wife to Lee, mother to five year-old Seth, friend, daughter, homemaker, human services worker, writer, painter. On August 14, around 1p.m., again at my desk ready to receive, I felt an odd sensation in the lower right side of my skull, as if

bingen
Hildegard of Bingen pictured it exactly.

someone was knocking at an inner gate. I closed my eyes. I felt words come into my head, which I wrote down.

Regarding your illness, let it be recorded that there is no illness. There is only the body’s adjustment to its own rapidiment. The cure will be itself’s action in time, but the quest might prove useful for overcoming doubt as to proper course of action. Of course the painting is appropriate for that time. Yes, this is it. We have hoped to contact you prior to this meeting but the activity prevented. Suggested that the time be put aside regularly every day for reception.It is enough. Other business at hand can be taken care of by the secretaries. The proper order is very important. Of course the anticipation creates its own impetus. Knowing the paper is there is a help to the process. I suggest you keep large paper at hand. It will be necessary – a good idea – to rest and continue to drink lots of water. The pancreas is involved as well and especially needs the water. The bile duct – it’s a matter of priming the pump – lubricating the flues so that matter is not secreted which excites the liver. Avoid starchy, fatty foods. Enough.

As the words were pouring into my head, I began thinking about the process and the source. I wanted to see how high into this expanded awareness I could get. It did not dawn on me that the source of these words was actually a being, or a group of beings, who would respond to my inner fluctuations. I had a lot to learn about the process and the senders. As I asked my inner question about the source, there was a wavering of the words, and a feeling of great distance, light, and an attenuation of our connection.

Fixed in your mind is the impression that we are here to serve – and not to ask. We have things to ask. Rest assured the information is correct. Many there are who have waited to be heard, just as there are those in great number who have waited to receive. The alignments are rare, and exquisite only are they which fulfill the requirements. We extend our hope that this will be fruitful. The height – the high Colonial (one from the high Colony) requires thin piercing. The matter of the body strains to accommodate, hence material difficulty. It would be better to accept the comments of the Laughing Face as valid which they are, and true.

Fortune is only the projection of men’s hopes impacted by the others’ hopes and projections bumping in collision.

They will not be able to harm thee by the probe or by other treatment for the body will adjust correctly to balance. Pain is sometimes unavoidable unless the negation of its existence acquires a positive cast.

As for Seth, he is well protected and guarded. It is not necessary to wonder or fear for him. He will guide his guardians for his best care.

No. Death is not in order. It would be an abrupt ceasing of process you have worked hard to establish and which now carries the greater impetus.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
My liver biopsy

With that assurance, I agreed to let the doctor book me into the hospital for three days of tests, and decided to enjoy the rest.

The next day, my birthday, I had another “transmission” – I didn’t know what else to call this blessed outpouring. In 1980, I had never heard of transmissions.

Somehow I didn’t think of this as the same process that David Massengill or other psychics regularly experienced. The transmissions came upon me at the same time every day – which usually fell conveniently in my lunch period. I took my pad of large paper to the restaurant, where six friends and I downed a lunch topped with champagne and raspberry shortcake.
8/15/80
One thing we need (want) to make certain is that foundations require tremendous insight and celebration, as well as the more somber aspects of concentration and alliance. It is certainly in our interest – in the field of common interest – to comment on the cooperative nature of this endeavor.

Now – we have a number of items to cover, and as we have said, order is of the utmost importance. So although it may seem redundant, we want to cover some previously explored territory.

The first order is the machinery of reception. As we said yesterday, the finer the tool, the cleaner and more rarified, yes, a correct term, the product. What we both want here is the exemplary detail possible from concentrated efforts. You have made it clear to us that no less than clear communication will do to firm your purpose in bridge building and clarifying muddy issues. Your teachers by previous readings have prepared your mind well enough to understand for yourself that the mind must be clear. We are dismayed although understanding of the time delay today and we would prefer that you take your imbibing at another time. We have schedules, too. Of course you don’t feel guilty. This is because guilt is a function of the incorporation of the chastisement. This is indeed not your own self chastisement, but one coming from another source. We love the process, we love the being that permeates and unites us all. You have chosen a duty for yourself that is rewarding and fun, and you understand that there are rules, of which you approve and which serve as boundaries within which you are free to romp. So on with it.

Fortunately, as we attempted to begin with before, the ground work has already been laid by some previous workers, so we don’t have to go into everything. We have been working with a number of people whose main interest and thrust has been with the theology of the workings. (It is indeed a good thing that you like to type, since this seems to be the fastest and most legible approach for us to take.) Here we are concerned not so much with the theology but with the preparation necessary to the coming enterprise.

As they – it definitely felt like a consciousness of plurality was speaking – my mind was alive with a flow of images, some clearer than others, some merely fuzzy patches of light. With the coming words, I saw Mary on the donkey traveling, and the word “travail” was a companion. I knew that this word meant “work.” I also understood that this Mary was about to go into labor. And that in my mind, the words “travel” and “travail” sounded alike. So together, they imply an arduous journey.

Yes, it is a good idea to explain the image as they serve not only to vivify the writing but also to make more clear the meaning.

In fact, as I was experiencing the transmission, I was thinking that I should record as much as possible about the experiences themselves. In others’ accounts of receiving direct communication from spirit guides, channeled entities, and other non-identified sources of information they felt in their minds, I had read that they saw specific images, and had impressions of a certain feeling of color, a mood, of multiple images combining in terms personally meaningful to them.

cumulus

When the phrase, “high Colonial,” came into my mind the day before, I saw again in my inner eye — my imagination — my first, breathtaking view of a high, sunlit-rich bank of cumulus clouds as my plane’s wingtips grazed its flank. The distillation of the flow of associations that produced the “high Colonial” is this: Such gorgeous, high glory brought an immediate sense of a place reserved for the elite. I felt the source of the information coming into me as a plural being, the consciousness of a colony. Visitors from higher (more advanced) civilizations flow into less powerfully flourishing cultures and assume control and ownership. That intuitive part of me who makes all the connections between and among ideas is not sophisticated, and not politically correct. She translates input immediately into as words and images to convey the clarity and meaning of her first impression. That’s how intuition works. It doesn’t pass through logic or ego.

And now, dear reader, I will continue in the present tense of the journal I kept of those first days of connection to a part of myself I had never imagined.
8/16/80
I have the feeling that I am waiting, perhaps out of vanity, with lonely aspect, for a new, glamorous friend whom I have heard is in love with me and whom I have heard is going to be visiting me. I feel as if I am putting my good dress on, making sure I look right – in a mirror in a dim room. It’s a scene I see, and it is my low self doing just what I have described, as I send up and open myself to whatever will come. My fear is that I will begin writing the thought in my head, undirected, thinking that there is direction – but I trust that any writing coming from within me will serve some good purpose.

There is a change in the internal atmosphere – all needs to be still – and the words come.

Foolish it is that men’s eyes do not recall the beginning of the history for it was told to them as babies in the most basic means possible, and reinforced through the lessons of each group’s times. Few there are who remember the purpose of being, which this receiver sometimes doubts, a measure of the poor mirror presented by the rest of the world. This purpose being JOY – to be written large, adorned, copiously fulfilled – it is a mandate. To this one we have taught it from birth, so it will be the flavoring direction of these notes. Keep in mind that the seer sees only through the only eyes the seer has.

The world is indeed different to each person, for the world that is the perception of existence as it appears to each being is according to the equipment played. Here the world seems precious, fair, poignant and having the ability to love. There are yes many paths to the One and “different strokes for different folks” is surely the best and indeed the only way we can go.

We said we would be covering some history and some beginnings. So back to darkness is perhaps the best approach.

With Gratitude

These early transmissions, as I called them, thrilled me, showering me with glittering inner movies of angelic and elohimic beings, in which these bright, shining ones whispered, sang, chanted, and shouted beautiful words into my inner knowing. My mind was blown so often that I think the apparent top of my head must really be just an illusion.

bliss-to-email
Most of all, of course, I am grateful to have lived long enough not only to know my grandchild, but to look forward to being part of her life.

If I had been born well before the date I emerged, embodying the same physical configuration that felled my maternal grandfather at age 45, I would probably have not have lived this long, with the expectation of many more joyful, appreciative years ahead.

So first, thank you to All That Is for this timeline.

Thank you to my family, friends, and everyone I have ever known for anything and everything you ever said or did in my presence, whether it was intentionally for me or not. I saw, I heard, and have been incorporating the unedited flood, becoming my whole self, and I am not done.

With respect to this new online publishing enterprise, 40 years in the making, I send my thanks to the buoyant soul I knew as Karen Stone, who wrote to me in an email in 2000 or so, “I have just returned from the lap of the gods, aka Taos…” That phrase, “in the lap of the gods” captivated me, moved in, and became the caption for a stream of communication from the divine that I opened to in 1980.

These early transmissions, as I called them, thrilled me, showering me with glittering inner movies of angelic and elohimic beings, in which these bright, shining ones whispered, sang, chanted, and shouted beautiful words into my inner knowing. My mind was blown so often that I think the apparent top of my head must really be just an illusion.

It occurred to me to publish what was pouring through me, but I knew nothing about publishing. I’d go into bookstores and see that others were publishing the part of the stream in which they stood — J.Z. Knight, Barbara Hand Clow, Barbara Marciniak, for example, and I’d think, oh, good, I don’t have to interrupt my life to do this. Someone else is taking care of getting the word out about our multidimensional nature, about Earth’s transformation, and about how we can be in touch with the greater, non-material portion of all being that hovers at our closed lids.

Decades passed. I retired. I moved to the other side of the country to be with my family. I thought I’d be lonely and have lots of time to  pull my writings together into something a reader could hold in her hands. I was wrong. Turns out it was more important to me to embed myself in a community that would wrap itself around me, so that’s what I did.. I found a new community, made new friends — while missing my old friends and maintaining precious contact with them — and found lots  of reasons to avoid the enticing work I’d anticipated as the core of my new life.

A year has passed. One of my new friends, a spiritual companion with whom I have occasionally shared some of my old transmissions, suggested I publish them in a blog.

And here we are. Now — will I discipline myself to add pages to this blog? Time will tell.