Stinkin' Ass Test Drive

It still counts as running away from home when you're 43 and wanna try being someone else because you sat in your room for 6 months thinking about suicide and nobody even tried to talk to you about it. I was taking risks, and I'm still in love with the adrenaline rush of putting myself in danger... just in time to escape to safety. I'm really a mess for it. I even write when I'm high on adrenaline. Guess I should be thanking my few years as a news reporter for leaving me something. At least I get the reward of writing and adrenaline rushes in the same box. Unfortunately I need to be addicted to writing, and I don't need to be addicted to adrenaline rush behaviors that are absolutely horrible for me. 

Writing has been my oldest friend. I left all my old journals in North Carolina, but I'm pretty good at remembering the parts I need to. And if I had all those memories to look back in, I'd have a harder time becoming someone else who has new feelings and new journey. I am reborn and had to leave my old life behind to find out what that even means. I accepted the path. I surrendered to the path, and it is dumb to struggle after that. Even struggling to accept that anything and everything I am experiencing is absolutely connected with a higher dimension and the ways that I am always involved to it, doesn't make as much sense to me. My survival and situation is such a wreck at the moment, til I only hope that this isn't one of the foretelling events I become involved with during certain phases. If I'm going through hard times today, The Collective will be feeling the pain later -- just another possible paradigm in the pack. 

Luck, A Suck, & A Fuck  --- Pack ---

My Rebirth Ceremonies were the most amazing welcome I could have ever had. I really was having a back and forth realm where all the beings were being played by higher selves and I could kinda tell. Nobody could tell me who they were, but some of them were seriously familiar and I was one of them. Wildest of it all was that for much of the experience I questioned whether I had died many, many, many times, and I'm still not sure if I did. 

Boy! Timelines be splittin' 

I have been doing walkabouts for a long time, and I also stalk energy without realizing what I'm sensing or looking for all the time. One of my insane paradigms is that I'm working with some unseen organization of telepaths, aliens, government, or spirits etc., and that I have a dowsing ability to locate interesting things they want a person present to witness. I would go out and drive around a lot to look for things that might or might not have been their business. I am also suspicious of some times and places I was strategically geographical or when I might have lived somewhere. OK -- I might have walked around that one the wrong way, but I'm sure I'll be able to find my way back. 

Telepathy is Weird as Fuck

I mean, where does someone even learn it? I started when I was a kid and walked out in the forest to feel better from my narcissistic soup of a family. The trees were my best friends, which is probably unfair to say in witness of my human friends. I've said the trees sang to me and healed me and taught me important things. Like when the wind blows they say shhhshhh. Or they make their roots strong so they can sway when storms roll in. And they also told me that happiness is really in small things like a hot cup of tea and a visit down to the creek. And I talked to them in a funny British-ish accent and was alone with my poetry notebooks and whatever cigarettes I had been able to steal and grew up with trees as friends. Was it all the trees? Were there other guides and angels? I'm even sure of it now, but if I had not known how to be quiet with them to hear them singing would I have developed into the psychic I am today. I'm sure that I could not have done it without them. 

I even mourned when the lot behind my house was cut down. I had a small shelter back there around a pine tree and the douchebag tree cutters didn't even leave a kid's woods shelter alone. I would have felt the killing the trees personally, like they were killing my friends without that decimation of my hideout I'd worked so hard on, but dang. 

Mourning trees was a theme for me, even. When I was 16, I had what I know was the world's worst Valentine's Day and went to my favorite thinking spot. It had had some huge pine trees out over a gravel pit, and they were at least 6 feet in diameter which is bigger than most of the ones around here. And I had been a romance novel addict since I was 12 and was feeling sorry for myself about being too awkward for boys and took my backpack with a pack of cigarettes and my notebook out to have myself a proper cry about feeling lonely in my favorite spot to have my feelings. And there on the ground were these enormous trees, obviously too big to get trucked out with the rest of them and just cut down to be left behind. So I climbed up on top and cried until my tears ran out. I felt like cutting the trees was as senseless as taking a human life and loved them that much. 

Telepathy feels like I buzzy feeling around my head. When it's my higher self, I sense it more from the tiptop of my head. When it's a spirit I sense it from behind my right shoulder. When it's an angel from behind left shoulder. When it's the collective I sense it like a halo. When it's a tech collective, I sense it like a halo from behind my head. When It's Source I have another halo. When there are more realms involved, there are more halos and I can perceive them and interact with them through speaking or thinking. And the characters that arrive in my presence are heightened, their eye shine, or they have familiar faces from other interactions on that plane of consciousness. 

These spiritual partners who arrive are sometimes in the guise of familiar greats from my exposure, even a name could bring them as a guest, or the energy ringing in my story aligns to theirs. My unconscious choices or energy play is the same as an invitation at times. How else was I going to talk about psychology with the doppleganger of Carl Jung in his wire rimmed glasses and bowler hat on an afternoon visit to the Dollar Tree in Lincoln, Nebraska? 

Jesus comes to see me a lot. Buddha, too. I've had agregors of some incredible deities and been welcomed by "ambassador" energy of ones who came from around the world. Why do all the Indian families give their kids a god name? Why did the ancient Chinese say we are all living the play of the gods? Why did the entities I've channeled try to impress me that all of these deities, fae, djinn, spirits and all are really aliens? 

My recent favorite of these ambassadors is Brian, 100% Navajo, living in Louisiana. His grandparents on his dad's side were both into shaman medicine and he was raised around their teaching and taught a lot. He even has a lot of their sacred items in his home from their work and years. His validation of my path as a shaman was so meaningful to me that I will cherish his friendship forever. When we were talking about things, I could feel his ancestors looking out from his eyes, observing me and meeting me and also in the way we connected as instant friends. I had the sense that Brian was there to meet me because the Navajo people wanted to support my journey. 

Among my ideals in my vision about calling myself a shaman is the idea that I could return the whole land to shamans who are inspired by place. And we can learn how to learn the earth best from the ones who've been loving this part of the earth longest. These nations of indigenous people who were here before western settlement knew or have special connection to rediscover these natural assets of the land, the medicinal plants, the way to live in harmony with the earth.

When I was a kid in the woods, I could still feel the prayers and songs of these people and knew their love for this place was still here. I would tune to it and feel like their love was something I could also carry with me as a purpose. Respect for the creativity in causing unique cultures from the visions of medicine women and men based around the love of a place of land, the spirit of the land itself, the life it inspires, and the people who know and love it too -- that the spirit of uniqueness -- community to community was more important than all the propaganda efforts to cause conformity of belief or conformity of culture. Too much order is a disorder. The nature of nature is regional, or it's even microscopic. 

I speak in tongues and know it is a language. I just started one day after my "Creative Wakening" which was really the Rebirth ceremony that I was still having a hard time understanding was even happening. Did I die? I was told, that I didn't and that I was getting to ascend without dying. I was also told that I was a holdout. I was also shown my whole life flashing before my eyes with each part fitting exactly right and in such a way that I could even understand myself as an algorithm that got plugged in. Like, what kind of person would we want to construct to share this special message we're going to need someone to deliver, how weird should she be, and what all bullshit should we put her through so she knows it both is and isn't about her? They told me there were lots of Terri timelines that didn't make it. They also told me that those Terri's are on the planning team on the other side. They also told me that this is the simulation version and that it's all a stinking ass test drive. 

Ever have a feeling about someone, like they don't normally have a body? Like they look alike to the last time you saw them as someone else, but this body is just as ill-fitting as the last? Ever have a sense that they just poofed into being so that they could see what you are up to and check on you? Ever look in someone's eyes and see that they know you, and that they're sorry about something you can't even remember had happened between you?