Thursday, February 23, 2006

I come to the computer today with the goal of sitting here, meditating on the blank screen until something comes that I want to say to all of you.

Maybe if I am patient enough and sit here long enough I can channel an entity like the lady who channeled "Sethe" or my favorite, the guy who channeled the being named "Kryon." I've always secretly envied those folks who wake up one day with a voice in their head, only to realize they were not crazy, just inhabited by something with generous wisdom that has chosen them as a vehicle. These people always seem to improve their lives and the lives of others, traveling around the country offering little meetings and performances with their entities, absorbing all kinds of strange cosmic love. These people always beam and seem as though they couldn't stop smiling if they tried. They laugh a lot. They call everyone "beloved."

But envious as I may be, the truth is I would be a very bad vessel for such an entity. I'm very closed off on that level. I don't like to be invaded--hell, I don't even like to be intoxicated very often, anymore. I like the way my consciousness feels when it is steering steady and familiar. I can dig the way energy feels as it moves around, in, and through me--and when I was a massage therapist I certainly had some profound moments of "knowing" things that I could not otherwise know-- but I am quite certain that if an entity so much as tried to peek into the top of my head I would puke or get the shakes or have a seizure or something. I am, after all, the only person I know that ever passed out at the EYE doctor (those eye-drops are very startling!)

The irony is that I am a sensitive person. Like uber-sensitive--to loud noise, to people's feelings, to conditions around me, in other words the ideal candidate for, if not entitities, at least visions! I should see dead people. But I don't. I suppose you could say that I channel through my writing instead, but if that was really true, I'd have a bestseller by now, wouldn't I?

I think that the closest parallel in this life to the kind of sensitivity i hold is that I would make a good nun. I like silence. I can be very obsessive when i want, and like rituals, and am good at following structure. I could sweep the Abbey or whatever every day. I could comfortably kneel in praise of god--though really it would be in praise of the birds and the smell of lavendar and the way the sun would break through the gray stillness of the convent--every day. I could eat simple meals and spend hours of the day in silence and read in the evenings, and tend the flower garden and make sure that all the shelves in the library were dusted and the books in their rightful places.

That's probably what it would take to get a vision, or an entity to come into my head.



At 7:37 AM, Blogger Myfanwy Collins said...

Oh man can I ever relate to this post. I cherish silence. I can't even listen to music anymore when I work. I used to listen to classical or anything without words but now I even find it too distracting.

I, however, would be a crappy nun because every once in a while I like to rage on about whatever and I suspect that would be frowned upon.


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