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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Violet Message From Ma

My Ma crossed over in 1995. I was 38 years old at the time and missed her intensely. She had lived in Michigan, where I was born, and at the time she died I was residing in Connecticut with my family. However, Chris and I had actually moved from Michigan by 1983, whereas Ma stayed in Michigan mostly all of her adult life.

Up until she could no longer converse due to the cruel thief, Alzheimer's Disease, I had pretty much called Ma every day of every week of every year since I had moved. Sometimes we would chat for a few minutes, but other times our phone get-togethers would be much longer.

Now I won't say Ma and I always got along. Far from it. We were alike in some ways but very different in oil and vinegar combo that often had opposite opinions and ways. Still, we admired each other even if we didn't always let this be known to anyone, and certainly not regularly to each other.

After the funeral, Chris, our boys, and I drove back to Connecticut. Among other things I brought back were some woeful African violets that had been neglected over the last few years and hung onto life by a thread. Once we got home, I watered the plants and actually found myself talking to Ma through them regularly. I remember saying, "Ma, if you're still here with me, show me your presence through these violets, please."

I can't remember exactly when all the plants began blooming...a few days or a few weeks...but BLOOM they did. Prior to this they were the sorriest plants that were ever laid eyes on. But when they bloomed, it wasn't just a few flowers produced. Each plant was literally covered in blossoms. I KNEW I had my answer that Ma was fine, heard me, and was watching over our family.

A few years and moves later all the African violet plants did die. I did not neglect them in any way nor did I overwater or underwater them when this happened. It simply was their time. I knew Ma would always be looking out for us but I sensed she had other things to do now (busy 'tween lives), as well. I wasn't sad. I was grateful that the violets helped me make the transition that Ma couldn't be with me physically anymore. I know she's with me spiritually and always will be.

Sunday, August 23, 2009


At two different times when shopping at our local used-items store, "Experienced Goods" in Brattleboro, VT, I found products by Louise Hay. Louise is founder and owner of one of my favorite publishing houses, Hay House. It always feels as if I've struck gold when I find books/DVDs or other neat stuff at stores selling used items, garage/tag sales, etc., and the "Hay" finds were no exception.

The first thing I purchased quite a few weeks ago for a whopping $1 was Louise's, "Heal Your Body ~ The Mental Causes For Physical Illness And The Metaphysical Way To Overcome Them." The book was copyrighted in 1982 but the edition I found was revised and expanded in 1988, Hay House Inc., Carlsbad, CA. This is a little book (83 pages) packed with A LOT of wisdom. Basically, there's a whole slew of health ailments listed that are followed by their probable cause and accompanied by a new thought pattern. The "new thought pattern" is an affirmation that one can say to change the way one thinks.

In the book's intro Louise writes, "... I want to share with you one of the reasons I KNOW that dis-ease can be reversed by simply reversing mental patterns." She goes on to tell how she was diagnosed with cancer of the vagina. After the initial panic of finding out about the cancer, Louise found herself not surprised by the diagnosis given the fact that she was raped at 5 years old and battered physically and mentally as a child. Louise writes, "Being aware that cancer comes from a pattern of deep resentment that is held for a long time, until it literally eats away at the body, I knew I had a lot of mental work to do." Louise goes on to say, "I immediately began to work with my own teacher to clear old patterns of resentment. Up to that time, I had not acknowledged that I harbored deep resentment." She went on to explain how she also went to a nutritionist to start detoxifying her body. Louise writes, "So between the mental and physical cleansing, in six months I was able to get the medical profession to agree with what I already knew; that I no longer had any form of cancer."

Because I suffer from stomach aches, especially when under stress and anxiety, I was anxious to try Louise's affirmations for this problem. Louise writes that the stomach "Holds nourishment. Digests ideas." The probable cause for stomach problems is "Dread. Fear of the new. Inability to assimilate the new." I have now posted a note on my bathroom mirror with the following, recommended by Louise Hay:

I digest life with ease.
Life agrees with me.
I assimilate the new every moment of every day.
All is well.

In addition, I suffer from allergies (mold, tree pollen). The probable cause for allergies is "Who are you allergic to? Denying your own power." (Please see the past post, A Past Life Regression Helps To Reveal "Why Allerg...). In addition, "hay fever's" probable cause is "Emotional congestion. Fear of the calendar. A belief in persecution. Guilt." I have also posted on my bathroom mirror the following, recommended by Louise Hay:

The world is safe and friendly.
I am safe.
I am at peace with life.
I am one with ALL OF LIFE.
I am safe at all times.
My plan is to say these positive affirmations whenever I'm in the bathroom and, once memorized, whenever I think of them. My plan is to say them until they become a permanent part of my thought patterns. It's interesting that one does not, especially at first, have to wholeheartedly agree with these positive affirmations. But if one keeps saying them, the change of mind WILL occur.

The other Hay "find" I purchased just the other day, again for $1, is Louise's 2-DVD set, "You Can Heal Your Life," 2007, Hay House Inc., CA. Chris and I just watched the first DVD of the set last night. WOW!!!!! Lots of positive input from other popular Hay House authors, as well as the sage wisdom of Louise herself. I can't wait to watch the second DVD of the set.

One of the things I learned from the DVD is that it's important to word personal affirmations in a way that miracles can follow. Those of you who follow my other blog, Spinning Spider Jenny, and know me, know that I'm still in the throws of getting a spinning, dyeing, and knitting book ready for printing. But rather than say, "I want the BOOK done," I am saying, "The BOOK is done!"...which it is, since I have written it and now it's simply being edited. So, also on my bathroom wall is the following (Geez, wonderful affirmations are taking over the mirror. So be it!!):

The BOOK is done.
The BOOK is about spinning, dyeing, and knitting.
The BOOK is excellent and beautifully clear.
The BOOK helps people.
Many people buy the BOOK.

Whoever donated the Louise Hay items to "Experienced Goods", a sincere Thank YOU!!!!! Do consider seeing if your library has a copy of anything written or published/produced by Louise Hay.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009


For those who aren't familiar with pendulums at all, they are a small weight of some sort, be it metal or wood or stone/crystal, that's suspended from a chain or string or line, often with a smaller bead or decorative charm on the opposite end of the chain. Pendulums are personal tools that are used for personal divination. I mention "personal" because once you've acquired a pendulum please do consider not allowing anyone else to use it except have your own vibrations and the bond between you and your pendulum is important to establish and maintain. Pendulum divination works particularly well with yes/no-type questions...the kinds of questions that don't work quite so well with Tarot.

I was first instructed how to use my pendulum from friend, Shirma, past owner of "Kindred Spirits" where I read Tarot until it closed. Shirma had a nice selection of pendulums at the store and I took my time deciding which one I felt most comfortable with and was drawn to. I chose a metal version, a little on the heavy side (as compared to some of the crystal types that hung lightly). It was as if a whole new world opened up to me when I saw how easy it was to access information via a pendulum.

Here's some information regarding pendulums that I recently wrote on the Psychic group on
I use my pendulum quite a bit. After establishing for myself that yes swings forward and backward (like a nod) and no swings from side to side (like someone motioning no with their head), I never asked for it to show me this again. When it stands still after I ask it a question, I know that I’m not meant to know this answer at this time. When it circles, I know that there could be more than one answer that would solve whatever I’m asking (sometimes in this case I do further, more in-depth questioning). When I bring out my pendulum, I do always ask if the answers are coming from the Light (I’m not interested in mischievous or negative spirits who wish to speak through my pendulum). I also ask if the answers tell the truth. That way, I always know that I’m being helped by a high vibrational being or my own Higher Self. I often call whoever answers via my pendulum, my “Pendulum Angel,” but I know that there are more than one high vibrational beings that answer at any given time…sometimes one of my Guides, an Angel, etc…
I keep my pendulum in a little zippered silk case along with some rose quartz. I often carry it in my pocket to be ready whenever I need it. That said I don’t over-use it and am not addicted to asking it for every Tom-Dick-Harry thing.
I always say thank you after an answer is given. I try not to ask the same question more than once, but sometimes I rephrase a question if I think I didn’t ask it clearly to begin with.
It's important to note that each person will have to establish for themselves how their pendulum answers yes or no. In other words, just because my pendulum swings in a particular way for yes, doesn't mean your pendulum will swing the same for yes, etc.

Another tip I can give is to lock your elbow next to your side so that your arm isn't inadvertently moving the pendulum. Interesting tho', there are times I find my whole body acts like a pendulum to answer a question...hmmm. Additionally, I can often feel the answer in my solar plexus area, whether I have a pendulum in hand or not.

When using the pendulum, I don't generally hold the chain right at the opposite end of the pendulum weight (i.e. I tend not to hold the small bead or charm itself), but instead hold the chain about an inch or so after the small bead or charm, letting the chain drape over my pointer finger.

I would love to hear from more of you who use pendulums. It would be great to add your tips and various uses here for easy reference. Additionally, if you have any questions on pendulums we'll do our best to help. Thanks.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Four Dreams

Four recent, vivid, dreams:

I asked to see what my Spirit Guide looked like. Not long ago in meditation I had established his name was Joshua. Actually, I believe his name is Yeshue, but I was told it was fine to call him Joshua.

Dream 1: I was in an art classroom and a guy with long, brown hair was a few rows up from me (the desks were "stair-stepped"). It was known that he was the best watercolorist around. Then I found out he was BLIND. I remember contemplating how he could be such an amazing painter if he was blind? End of dream.

Dream 2 (same night): I was at a new friend's wedding. We had become good friends fast. Her husband-to-be also had long, dark brown hair. The husband noticed me taking photos and having problems over what button to push in order to make the camera operate properly. He said, "Perhaps I should take the photos?!". I was miffed about this. I pushed another wrong button and broke it (cracked some glass or plastic). The to-be-bride was very nice and very happy, oblivious to my non-pic-taking and bad photography skills. End of dream.

I asked to see my Ma and Dad again before I went to sleep.

This dream occurred: I was to go to a Lunar Ladies get-together and was packing bags to do so. Chris was away and my Dad (no Ma present in dream) was in our house, tho' it wasn't the same house I live in now. It was winter and quite snowy. I kept packing stuff and changing into different skirts. Friends, Jenna and Maureen, were there and for some reason they decided to caravan to where we were going, with my Dad driving me. Another woman was in the car but I have no idea who she was. I got into the car and Dad drove some distance before I realized I had forgotten to put my packed bags in the car. I panicked but Dad seemed calm. The woman in the car said, "No problem." Then she wiggled her nose like Elizabeth Montgomery did in the old TV show, "Bewitched." My bags appeared. I glanced over to my Dad and lo' and behold, it was Jenna's father instead of Dad in the driver's seat. End of dream.

Didn't send any intentions last night regarding what/who I'd like to see in my dream, but my Dad appeared again.

In this dream, my Dad was not his usual, jovial self. He even seemed personality-less, which was puzzling. Dad and I were together in his '80s, rust-colored, BIG car (a Buick, I think)...the car he drove before he crossed over in 1983. Again, there was another female in the car who I didn't know. This time she was a teen or in her early 20s. I was driving the car and the roads were weirdly steep (like in San Francisco, but not winding), with a strange "lip" at the top, which immediately went into another steep road with a lip at the top, as well...etc.... In other words, the roads were stair-stepped (there seems to be a theme with this whole stair-step thingy!).

I gunned the engine so we could climb the nearly impossible road, only to see a woman with a baby in a buggy crossing at the lip. I freaked out, worried that I would hit her, and started going backwards. I got exasperated and pulled over to the side of the road where it was grassy. I said, "That's it, Dad. You drive, please, because these roads are driving me crazy." End of dream.

It's amazing to me how many times cars and driving show up in my dreams. Geesh. Interesting, I haven't driven for over 10 years. Wonder what's going on with all this symbolically and metaphorically?

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Angel Intervention; Part Two

The second time an Angel saved my life as a teen is also car related (see Angel Intervention; Part One). I was doing some freelance photography work, taking pics of individuals and families at their homes. On one weekend, I had to travel very early to a town in Michigan that I was not familiar with and that was quite far away from where I lived. I've never been a strong and confident driver at the best of times but I proceeded as planned, nonetheless.

The country highway I found myself on was devoid of all traffic, quite monotonous; seemingly endless. Thankfully, it was not a winding road but quite straight. It's important to note that chances are good I didn't get to bed early enough the night prior, as I should have. At some point I was sleeping with my eyes open whilst in a trance. When I've told Chris this story, he's never surprised by this because he says I'm the only person he knows that can sleep anywhere, eyes opened or closed, standing up, sitting down, etc. A car, with an Angel in it, came up next to me and beeped. The beep shocked me to become awake. I was going very, very fast...maybe 85 or 90. I slowed down immediately and waved to the male Angel to let him know I was alright again. He sped off and disappeared from sight. I don't believe I saw another car until I got into the small town where my client was.

How do I know an Angel saved me? It's just one of those things that I know and have no doubt about.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Angel Intervention; Part One

This morning, as I sipped my cuppa tea, I was reading "Don't Kiss Them Good-bye," by Allison DuBois. When I came to chapter 3, "Angel On My Shoulder," I immediately flashed on to two incidents that happened to me as a teenager. What follows is the first of the two occurrences.

I was around 18 years old, finished with high school, still living at home (my parents were renting on the outskirts of Detroit by then), and not sure if I could ever afford the college education I yearned for. I had been working since I was 14 and was in another dead-end job that amused me not, but paid for gas and my wardrobe. At the time I was also busy sowing wild oats in the evenings after work, not to mention being decidedly snarky and not wanting to adhere to any parental rules. I regularly came home in the wee hours of the morning, getting sometimes only a few hours of sleep before I had to get ready for another workday. My car, gifted to me by Dad, was an old, green, manually steered, Duster.

My Dad warned me that I was asking for trouble as a young woman traveling by myself so late at night. When he'd give me yet another talking-to, I'd roll my eyes and tell him to stop worrying. He hated when boyfriends didn't pick me up and bring me home at a reasonable hour, as my long-time boyfriend had when I was in high school. But no one could rein me in at that time, not even Dad.

One late night, around 3 am, I was driving on Detroit's 8-mile Road, heading from the west side to the east. I remember thinking there weren't a lot of cars on the road, even unto being oddly desolate. Next thing I knew, a car had sidled up way too close to me. A quick sideways glance told me the driver was male and my gut told me he was up to no good. What happened after this all took place within a few minutes. The guy tried to push me off to the side of the road. His car's bumper actually hit the side of my car. I was terrified but held the steering wheel steady and knew it was critical to keep driving and not stop.

Out of the blue, another car came up along the other side of the man-who-was-up-to-no-good, and tried to push him out of my way with his bumper. I KNEW that it was an Angel in the second car. I KNEW I was being saved. Within a second I was free to gun the engine and get out of the dangerous situation. Heart beating fast, adrenaline pumping, I kept going and never looked back.

I never told my Dad about this incident. I did, however, tell my Ma many years after Dad had crossed over. 'course she said I never listened back then and always thought I was right. Thankfully, an Angel was there when I most definitely wasn't "right."

Friday, August 7, 2009

Learning To Believe In Yourself

Am nearing the end of reading James Van Praagh's excellent newest book, "Unfinished Business ~ What The Dead Can Teach Us About Life." The book, like many of his other offerings, is a combination of fascinating "readings" for others that James did as a medium at conferences and other demonstrations, as well as helpful tips and techniques on meditation and living a life of love and compassion. I've never been disappointed by any of James' books, and this one is no exception.

A section in the book that really hit home for me personally is entitled, "Believe In Yourself." It begins by saying, "There is no one that knows you better than yourself." And most importantly, James writes, "Over time, you will go through many trials and tribulations in order to have a better appreciation of and trust in yourself. But in order to reach this awareness, you must be willing to withstand the critical opinions and beliefs of others and see those opinions and beliefs for what they are - merely someone else's point of view."

Now I always thought I had a pretty healthy ego and opinion of myself...not too egotistical but enough that I was confident and willing to forge ahead on what I call "my hair-brained ideas". I believe in my work. I've been a fiber artist for nearly 30 years and have written and taught in the field. However, over these years I have realized that I don't withstand criticism well. I get hurt very easily. I am an empath...a sensitive...and feel things very, very deeply. I'm too swayed by other people's point of view; even worse, when I think their opinions concern me. That's right, I worry about viewpoints that I'm not even sure folks are having about me. I agonize about people's opinions before they happen, not even sure if they will happen! Eeesh! What a waste of precious time fretting about things I don't even know are true, eh?

My goal is to stop this nonsense NOW of being troubled about what others think. As James writes, "If you worry about what other people think or say, you give away your power, and that is a surefire way to live an unfulfilled life."

I'm in the process of finishing a book on spinning, natural dyeing, and knitting. When the book comes out there will be folks who will like it and there will be folks who won't. I know what I've written will help some folks become better spinners and dyers, setting them on a path of self-discovery through the fiber arts. That makes me feel very good. What's most important, however, is that I've put my best foot forward, remaining true to myself every step of the way.

Thank you, Mr. James Van Praagh, for reminding me to believe in myself.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A Past Life Regression Helps To Reveal "Why Allergies?"

A few weeks ago a friend set me on the path towards figuring out why I suffer from allergies. Among other things, I know that tree pollen, especially that from evergreens, makes me sneeze, waters my eyes, and at times makes me so stuffed I can barely breathe out of my nose. These allergies seem to be most prevalent in spring and fall.

My friend felt that some answers could be gotten if I'd self-hypnotize (something I've done many times) and do a past life regression. I had a tape of myself reading Brian Weiss's Script For Relaxation and Regression from his incredible book, "Through Time Into Healing." If you're interested in past life regression and want to try regressing yourself, this is the book for you. If you want to go to a past life regression therapist, you still may want to consider using Brian's script several times before your scheduled session(s), not to mention afterward. Dr. Weiss's methods are completely safe and not difficult in any way.

My friend  had a thought that perhaps I had lived during the time of the Holocaust of WWII and perhaps this was at the core of my allergy troubles. However, instead of limiting my regression to that time period, I instead set the intention to go to the life that was most responsible for my allergies.

Here's what I learned...
I was a female, late teens-early 20s, in the year 1291. I was pale and frail, living in the dark, dank, but wealthy home of my husband's family, either the Medici's (tho' they wouldn't rise to full prominence 'till more than a hundred years later) or a family who was friends with the Medici's, in Florence, Italy. MOLD was immediately shown to me to be one of the allergic culprits. Things were not good in the household. I could not bear a child and my husband called me "useless," and regularly beat me. He even went so far as to try and suffocate me. On one such merciless beating, my husband feared he had gone too far. He dragged me onto the side of a desolate road and left me there to die. A kind man, turns out to be my husband now, Chris, found me and compassionately took me to a convent, where they cared for my battered and bruised body. I could see myself in bed, covered with some sort of beige, linen clothing, from head to pointy feet. I stayed with the nuns all the rest of that life, doing good deeds in various, small, ways. I died rather old for those times at age 57.

Hmmm...mold, suffocation attempts. Allergies. Any thoughts on all of this?

Interesting that Florence had a huge wool industry at that time period.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

On Being An Animal Empath

I've been an animal empath all of my life. It's just that I didn't know the term "empath" until recently. I always thought that everyone felt the feelings of animals like I did. Surely everyone prayed for roadkill so that God would hold that animal in His/Her arms...right?

As a kid I could NOT watch Lassie. If that show was on in the room, even as a wee tike I'd have to leave the room. It was either that or I'd be crying my eyes out 5 minutes into the show, because surely Lassie would find herself in some sort of peril. Pain would begin deep within my stomach and it would feel as if I was the one in danger.

As an adult, I can NOT watch any PBS animal shows of any kind. I can't even watch shows on insects or fishing.

I remember when the kids were small and a friend of mine asked if I'd take them to some Disney movie about three animals who traveled together and shared all sorts of adventures. I told her I couldn't; plain as that. She looked at me wide-eyed but didn't press me for why.

I didn't seem to mind the zoo as a kid too much (probably because some of the animals lost their habitat and a good zoo takes good care of them...or at least I felt that it did...that is, the zoos I went to). I've not been at a zoo for a long time, so I shall monitor my feelings if and when I find myself at one. I'd be a good barometer if the zoo was excellent or not.

No matter what, I've always found the circus to be dreadful. I could feel the humiliation and sadness all the animals felt. Being at a circus was torturous for me. I can remember my Dad taking me to the circus when I was 7 years old. He was all excited and bought me all sorts of goodies when we arrived. Once home, I was so upset, I wrote Dad a note telling him thank you, but to please never take me to the circus again because I didn't like it. I wonder what my parents thought of that note? I do know they never questioned me nor even talked to me about it, at least that I can remember.

This brings me to what happened just a few days ago. Chris and I went to local Lake Raponda on one of the few sunny afternoons of this rainy Vermont summer to relax and to read our respective books. There were a lot of folks at the lake that day, and two boys were fishing several feet in front of us off a cement "dock." One caught a fish and couldn't get the hook out to put it back in the lake. My gut started wrenching and tears filled my eyes. The kid asked the other kid for help and when he didn't respond, I asked if I could help him. The boy shyly said no and Chris gave me the eye to turn around and not stare. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I saw that blood started to ooze from the fish and I wanted to run screaming. I made myself turn around, mentally blocked out all sound, and after ten minutes saw that the fish was gone and the boys still had their rods in the water. Awhile later, a family of ducks flew in to the area where folks were swimming. The "vibe" of the swimmers seemed OK so I settled in to read a few more pages. Before long there was a commotion from the ducks and the boys said that a baby duck had been hooked in the bill. I started to panic. Chris was going to help them but a lady, probably a mother of the boys, came over so Chris backed off. By then I was sobbing and said we HAD TO GO. The woman was successful getting the hook out of the baby duck's bill but I was already going up the hill towards our car. Chris said, "Wait Jen, it's out." I just kept going. Thankfully, Chris scooped up our belongings and we headed home.

Later that evening I said to Chris, "We cannot go back to Lake Raponda until fall, when all the tourists have gone home." He said, "I know. We'll find another place." Thank goodness I have an understanding husband.

Can you relate to any of these feelings? If so, please tell us your stories and experiences. Thank you.