A Day at an Edmonton Cemetery

Mount Pleasant Cemetery

The day was overcast with intermittent sun. My granddaughter Holly sat in the back seat, all nine and a half years of her. I stopped by to pick up Kirsten and her two year old, Emmy. Emmy and Kirsten were sitting on cement steps outside their townhouse. Greetings and smiles all around as Kirsten belted Emmy into her car seat and then Kirsten climbed into the front seat.

Mount Pleasant is located in an older, larger treed neighbourhood. The graveyard begins across the street from the ending of Mount Pleasant elementary School and near the end of the houses on the cemetery side.

I drove in the closest entrance to 51 Avenue. There was definitely a heavy serious feeling in the air. The road meandered around, small hills blocking out the houses. Trees dotted the graveyard. I finally stopped beside a little hill. All of us debarked and headed for the sites on the passenger side. The small gravestones near the road belonged to young children and newborns from over fifty years ago. Some dated to the 1800 hundreds.

Emmy and Holly ran around. Holly read dates and ages, while Emmy sat or walked in between tight fitting, back to back headstones. On this grey, windy, August day, I began to see children playing, 4 or 5 year olds, laughing and watching us. These children gathered together because of their own funerals many years ago. The clothing, from what I remember, seemed as if from the forties or fifties.

The energy in the air was definitely heavier despite being open air. In closed places, energy from traumatic events can become trapped, but I expected the graveyard to be lighter than it was. Thousands of funerals had gone through this old graveyard, with thousands of people mourning, crying, depressed etc. I can understand the heaviness now.

When Kirsten and I were standing at the top of the hill in the middle of the graves, I began to see a woman, dark haired, sporting a tight sweater, a poodle skirt (without the poodle picture) and a wide belt come towards us. She dressed like she was straight out of the fifties. Then she faded away. I don’t know whether she died in the fifties or whether the fifties had been the part of her life she had liked the best. Many spirits, if they died when they were older, often appear much younger when they allow themselves to be seen. They go back to that part of their lives when they were healthy and happy.

My granddaughter said she saw children playing across the other side of the road (spirit children of course). That was it other than the fact that there were so many Margarets on the gravestones. That is my given name, one which my mother always calls me.

The Ringing Cedar Series

Anastasia. What a person! My Dad used to say that an individual only uses about 10% of her his brain----if!. I always thought that if we could tap our psychic powers and develop, those powers could increase. I felt that through yoga. Anastasia is just that woman. She uses so much more brain, heart and spiritual power. We are supposed to be like her--- good, kind, compassionate, loving. That makes her so powerful. We can be just as powerfully good, loving and compassionate by operating from our hearts.

The feeling of magic and mysticism overcame me while I read the books; each book more powerful than the last.

The Ringing Cedar Series are just what the world needs.



Maggie

God

I do think that God is like a parent who REALLY loves us. We don’t always get punished for not making choices our parents want us to make. Wait a minute, some parents are like that. If we behave, they love us and if we don’t, well……….
However, there is much talk about unconditional love and how as parents, we should love our children with no strings attached. I believe that is the real deal. This is how God is. He loves us unconditionally. Is He not the real example of unconditional love?

The religious take on God is more human, loving and judgemental, forgiving and punishing, more like us humans. Didn’t God give us free will? Doesn’t that mean that sometimes we don’t make the best choices? Should we be punished for minor bad choices and major bad choices? If God has all this power could He not just strike us down instead of sending us to hell? God has been humanized with the worst human traits of intolerance, lack of patience and a ridiculous judgemental attitude by most of the religions. This is an easy way to control souls who are not sure if their particular religious leaders are correct or not. Make them feel guilty. We are so easily controlled if we can be made to feel guilty. Also, you can burn in hell if you break religious rules.

One of the things I do is go in and de-haunt houses. Stuck ghosts always feel guilty for their earthly actions, even when they were extremely religious when alive. Even the ultra religious can be afraid of moving on. Thousands of years with religions controlling how we think, who we talk to, who we marry and what we do has had a tremendous impact on all of us. It’s time to realize and recognize that God is the source of unconditional love. This is the God I believe in.

What happens when people return from a near death experience? They are no longer afraid of God because for the brief time of death, they were greeted with love, so totally and completely that they don’t even have words to describe the death experience. No fear of dying now or where they will go.

Who is in charge of the afterlife? God! Why do returning souls only feel love? Love is really all there is. The concentration of love is really what all the religions should be concerned about. Rules are meant to be broken when they go against the heart. God is all about unconditional love, shouldn’t we be copying that?

Micro-Chips

This morning while I was waiting for my first children, the pair of D.J.s began to ask for opinions on chipping your children. The pro argument is always the same. What if your child was lost or taken?

Well, children can move quickly when curious. My youngest son used to go for a walk so many times that I can’t believe that my hair did not turn grey when he was 4. Little Rigil would make sure the rest of us were busy, then, he would light out on his own. The rest of the children and I would notice him missing and begin our search outdoors. He always ended up with those who were nice. He was given chips, toys, popcorn, and clothes. His instincts, for kind people, was infallible. A few times the police were called by the people who found him, and if I spotted a police car, I would race to the spot. One time, Rigil saw me coming and scrambled from the front seat into the back seat of the police car. The policeman asked if I was his foster mother. Another time, a cop was holding Rigil and Rigil threw his arms around the man’s neck and hung on for dear life.

Man, could he walk fast!!!! It seemed that he was only gone 5 minutes and by the time I found him once, he had gone at least 16 blocks. Rigil was 5 years old at the time. Whenever I finally convinced whoever it was that Rigil was mine, Rigil would keep saying sorry and grab my arm to kiss. I just kept telling him that I loved him and that was why I was so worried. Rigil kept running until he was in high school. Whew!! Rigil has Down’s Syndrome and this is apparently common, although I never met anyone else who went through this for years.

Saying all this, I still would not have had Rigil chipped. Fine!!! Get your animals chipped, if you are worried. The basic idea of chipping is very science fiction, but not in a good way. Did you know that the U.S. military is chipping soldiers? The plan is eventually to convince people to get children chipped. After that, there will probably be a terrific amount of encouragement to get adults chipped. Why?

Maybe we would be easier to find and control. The chip can easily be controlled by a computer. All our financial information could be in the chip as well as our health. If someone decides that they don’t like what I have to say, I will bet that my health could be at risk. This sounds like robot town. The way the world works, there is a huge amount of disapproval for those who don’t fit in or agree with whatever the common opinion is. I am not interested in being controlled. Those manipulating the computers which house the chip information better have lots of integrity when playing with the chip information. Isn’t there a saying, “power corrupts”? Have we seen lots of evidence of corruption in our religions, governments and police forces, never mind drug companies, insurance companies etc.? I would rather do what is best for me than expect those in power to tell me what to do. Sorry, no chipping for my children. I want them healthy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Headgear

Where did cover your hair come from?

For those living in hot, tropical countries, I understand the need to wear a hat or a covering. Being in the hot sun day after day for extended periods, could fry the brain. My ex-husband, for example loves the cool weather. Once when we were married and the children were small, we went to Calgary raceway, for car racing.

It was a hot, dry summer day. Within half an hour, I could feel that I had too much sun. So I draped a t-shirt over my arms. My children and husband had caps on. However, we all went home with too much sun. My face and arms were burnt. The children were red across their faces, but my husband had a terrible headache. He then told me that he had sunstroke before and had been hospitalized. If he had not been wearing a cap, he would have been much sicker.

I used to have a Hutterite friend, Elizabeth. I spent the day on the colony with her. Elizabeth and the other females all wear kerchiefs on their heads. The rule is that all kerchiefs can be removed after 6:00pm.at home. Elizabeth said that she kept hers on until she went to bed, but that younger women, especially the unmarried ones remove theirs after 6. I should have asked why the kerchiefs were kept on all day, probably so the men are not driven wild, I presume. Anyway, Elizabeth was the same age as I was, yet looked older and her hair was terribly thin on her head. Elizabeth told me that all the older women were losing their hair. There is an easy solution, remove the kerchiefs, let the hair breathe!!! Remember men make the rules and rule each colony, so there is only a grade eight education allowed and guaranteed no woman would be allowed to remove her headpiece.

Then, when I moved to Alberta, I noticed every guy had a truck and wore a ball cap on his head. However, over the years, men coming from families with great thick hair, are indeed losing their hair. For those wearing a ball cap day after day, beware, beware!!!

I grew up in Quebec and while in grade seven, I went to a Catholic school in Rosemere. The nuns taught us and lived there in the school. The school had a depressed feeling as soon as I walked in the doors. I had to be quiet and I never saw any example of laughing or cheerfulness in the halls. It was like being in a church.

The headgear the nuns wore was pointed at the top and not a hair protruded from the tight fitting white cloth enclosing each face. We, the students used to wonder whether the nuns had shaved heads or very short hair. It must have been hotter than hell in the summer, I would bet.

Tibetan nuns shave their heads and don’t need hats. They may be more similar to the old time Christian nuns than they realize.

Several years ago, I worked in a number of group homes. One Saturday, I went to a home in the west end of Edmonton that I had never worked at before. A young woman with shoulder length dark hair answered the door. She explained all the duties and responsibilities for the house. We talked about a number of different subjects before she had to leave. It was then that she began packing on the clothes. I had not realized that she was Moslem. When I asked about covering her hair, she explained. Men are attracted to women and women could be raped because their hair is exposed. Hair is so sexual according to this woman. Can’t the men control themselves, I posed. We did get into another discussion, but this whole reasoning seemed so ridiculous to me. Look what happens when men make the rules. I grew up Catholic. Look how ridiculous, the rules were for women generation after generation. Women had to wear hats in church, men were not allowed. Nuns wore headpieces all the time, maybe that’s part of it.

My Dad’s old neighbourhood, in Montreal was peopled with mainly Irish Catholic and Orthodox Jews. The Hasidic Jewish men sported hats and curls in front of each ear. The women were reported to have shaved their heads once they married. Apparently, these same women have to resort to wearing wigs. The wigs are itchy. I don’t know the reasons behind this shaving, but I would guess again that men have made the rules, as they do in every religion.

Then there are men with covered hair and covered heads. Their women have beautiful hair they can show. The turbaned men all look like each other as they become older. Their beards and hair are allowed to grow long. The hair is tucked into a turban wrapped around their heads. The beards are tucked in at the sides to give a neat and similar appearance. I think I might have a hard time picking my guy out if I was married to one of these men. However, these men are wearing their uniform, just like the nuns of old. Hmmmm!!!!

Be Careful What You Wish For....

Several years ago, when my children and I were living in Riverdale, the weather was cold and rainy for about two weeks. Hey, it’s pretty much the same as it has been these last two weeks, except we did get snow yesterday!!!!

Anyway, my boyfriend, Sonny, told me that he would cut my lawn after work. Sonny was a cement finisher and no stranger to physical work. The day was overcast, with an unsteady drizzle, like today.

I was in the house doing a chart when I heard the lawnmower start up. I completed the chart and my client left. I went outside to see whether Sonny would like a cup of herbal tea or something to eat. No, he said, he would wait until the lawn was done.
I made lasagne for supper and had a little tomato sauce splashed on my yellow t-shirt. Stacking the dishes in the sink, I put on the kettle for tea. Once the tea was steeped, I poured some into a mug, added a dollop of honey and walked through the kitchen down the steps to the back door. I saw Sonny at the back door and as I opened the door, he said rather quietly “I just cut off my toes.” I stared at him, thinking he was joking. Sonny was quite the teaser. Then Sonny yelled, “Move!” I jumped, startled. He headed around the outside of the house and I raced to the bedroom, grabbed my purse with my wallet and thrust my feet into loafers at the front door. Then I ran down the front steps to Sonny’s car. He was seated on the passenger side.
I always put a white light around me when I drive and I needed to since I had never driven Sonny’s car before. I guess I was taking too long, because Sonny urged me, ‘Hurry up. I thought you liked to drive fast.”
“I don’t know your car,” I responded. Well, the steering wheel was loose and I turned the corner carefully as I slid onto a busy road. I was cautious and Sonny kept telling me to go faster. Sonny gripped the door handle, rocked himself a little and tucked his lips between his teeth as I drove.

The car felt so loose, but we finally arrived at the Royal Alex hospital. I drove right into the emergency entrance where the ambulances parked. Two attendants walked toward the car, one of the men shaking his head, disapprovingly. When they reached the driver’s window, I didn’t give them a chance to talk, and burst out with, “He just cut his toes off.” Both medics hurried around to passenger door, one reached for a folded up wheelchair and Sonny was whisked into the chair. As they pushed Sonny around the car toward the emergency door, I pulled out of the enclosed exit and looked for a parking spot outside.
Once out of the car, I straightened my top with the tomato stain, smoothed my shorts, with a small tear and noticed I had two different shoes on, one white and the other tan. My white shoe had a hole near the big toe. I laughed, shook my head and walked toward the emergency entrance.
The same two medics stood at the entrance, one of them laughed as he stared at my shoes. I laughed and said, ”I’ve got two more at home just like these.”
When I went inside, Sonny was sitting in a wheelchair near the nurses’ desk. He had already been processed and was waiting, gripping the arms of the chair. Sonny asked me to do him a favour, would I check his foot to see how many toes he still had left. I crouched down beside him and peeled back the torn white leather of his right foot. Part of his large toe and the toe beside it were gone. I went to the reception desk and asked the nurses how long we had to wait. About half an hour, maybe more, I was told.
I went back to Sonny who said he really needed something for the pain.

Back to the reception desk, I asked the nurses where I could go to get something for the pain. I was told that Sonny could get nothing until a doctor looked at him. I told Sonny and waited a few minutes. I went back to the nurses and questioned them again about the wait. A nurse separated from the other nurses and came toward me. She said she would try and get him in soon and don’t get any meds, she cautioned.
Within five minutes, the same nurse catches my eye and tells me to follow her. I wheel Sonny into an emergency room. A nurse removes Sonny’s shoe and cleans his foot. I head to the pay phones and begin calling Sonny’s family. As I walk back and forth through the hospital, I see people staring at my mismatched shoes.

Then Sonny is taken to an emergency operating room. I walk around to the head of Sonny’s bed and begin reiking him. A female doctor comes in and unwraps his foot. Sonny makes a joke about the wrong foot being looked at. The doctor stares uncomprehendingly and then Sonny laughs. In walks the orthopaedic surgeon, he checks Sonny’s foot and the female doctor assists. I was still reiking Sonny as his foot was unwrapped and damage was being detailed.
I began to feel really hot and slightly sick. I kept my hands on Sonny’s head, concentrating on attempting to make Sonny feel better. The next thing I remember, I was on the floor and the woman doctor was asking if I was okay. Sonny was howling with laughter. Apparently, I passed out, slid down and caught my neck on the crossbars of the bed. The orthopaedic surgeon told the female doctor that I had fainted, she didn’t move because she thought we were joking again. By the time this woman got to me I was gurgling and gagging from lack of air. She put me on the floor. When I came to all I said was, “I never fainted before.”
“You did now,” stated the doctor.
Sonny said he felt my hands slide and heard me gagging. He said he never felt any pain for the whole time because he was laughing so hard. I hit a bunch of bed pans as I went down and was stuck under the bed. Sonny said the woman doctor was funny to watch as she struggled to stay where she was. She could not believe I had actually fainted.

Sonny’s toes were fixed. He came back to my house for a few days where I monitored his meds and took him for check-ups. One of my daughters told Sonny that she went into the backyard to look for his toes and could not find them.

Sonny used to complain about his toes, he always thought they were too long. After his accident and lots of discussions, Sonny began to croon to his existing toes. “I love you babies.” Be careful what you don’t like, throw enough negative energy at something and your wish will come true. It’s better to be grateful!!

I went out and bought a push mower. My oldest, at home was a teenager and since my children were young, I wanted them safe. Push mowers require a lot more energy and I am usually sweating and hot by the time I finish mowing even when the weather is cool, like today.

Rodeo

Early Sunday morning I got a call from Faron, a friend of mine. He was a little worried because he could not contact his son Mark for a ride. Faron’s truck limped into town Saturday night from Rocky Mountain House. Apparently some bearings went on the truck. Anyway, Faron needed a ride to get to Caroline, Alberta because he was riding in the rodeo.

I picked Faron up. He was wearing his jeans, boots, shirt, jean jacket and a cowboy hat. It was overcast and chilly in Edmonton when we left. Faron told me that there are a lot of young teens living on the reserve near Rocky Mountain House who were getting into trouble, so Faron began to teach them about rodeo riding. A few of those teens were also riding in the rodeo.

It took about two hours to drive from Edmonton to a dirt road, in the middle of open fields and trees, trees, everywhere. We were in wild west country. A large field held rickety looking stands with a large fenced corral in the middle. There were trucks and cars around the stands. A small concession stand sent out smells of hot dogs, hamburgers and French fries. A beer tent with a fenced off area at the end of the stands was filled with men and women wearing cowboy hats, talking, smoking and drinking beer. They could still watch all the activities.

I settled myself in the stands while Faron headed over to where all the riders were. More fences near the grandstand held the announcers and penned bulls, horses and sheep. Small children between the ages of 3-5 years of age came out wearing hockey helmets riding large woolly sheep. The tot’s small fingers clutched the wool on the big sheep. A man ran beside each child as the child came out of the gate. As soon as the child began to slide off (because the sheep ran as soon as the pen released them), the man would grab the child and help him or her back to a safe area. Everyone was laughing.

There was barrel racing, women and then young girls hanging on to the horses and racing around barrels, attempting to clear the barrels without knocking them down. Meanwhile, in the stands, people are talking, laughing and eating. The sun came out for a short time and my layered clothing felt too hot. Once the clouds took over and the sun was only peaking through, it was cool.

I watched calf roping. Two riders came out racing after a large calf. One rider would rope the calf’s head, while the other rider attempted to rope the two back feet of the poor calf. The first competing pair was a husband and wife team. The wife missed roping the calf’s back feet and the announcer said that’s why couples don’t usually compete in this because the ride home is too long. Each successive pair either missed the back feet completely or only caught one. This was hard, I could see that.

Another calf event which seemed crazy as well was this: A rider bolted out of the gate chasing down a large calf. The rider threw himself from his horse at the right time and grabbed the calf’s head and attempted to flip the calf on his back in record time.

Bareback riding began. Each rider came out with a glove. The gloved hand gripped the reins while the other one found itself flailing in the air. The horses bucked and jumped to throw each rider. Eight seconds is a long time when the ride is rough. It was Faron’s turn. He gave his glove to one of the other riders and came out on his wild bucking horse. Faron was thrown and hit the ground motionless. The other cowboys came racing over. A medic ran over to the still body. A few minutes later, the crowd cleared, as Faron was lifted on to a stretcher, he raised his arms. The crowd cheered and Faron was carried away.

I made my way from the stands to where all the cowboys were milling around. The fenced in area kept me out, so I waited and watched the rest of the bucking horse rides. A woman, Flora came shooting out of the pen, hanging on with one hand. Flora was thrown and rolled in a summersault, then jumped to her feet. She was much older than I thought. I turned to someone standing near and said that Flora must be about 40 years of age. The woman looked at me and said, ”She’s closer to fifty. You know, her brothers were all riders too.”
I walked over to the office where all the trophies were displayed and asked about Faron. The women there all told me that Faron was an old rodeo rider and these riders were tough. These riders are the last of the daredevils. Who made up this game?
I watched some of the bull riders. Again they could only use one hand and needed to ride for eight seconds. The two guardians on horses would ride close to the bull, the bull rider grabbed onto a horseman and slide himself down on the other side of the horse. The bull rider had to put distance between him self and the bull. The bull often would go after the rider even after the rider had left his back. I saw a successful, young bull rider throw himself over the corral fence as the bull raced toward him.
These guys are really athletic. They make everything look smooth.

There were little chuck wagon races. Teams of small Shetland ponies pulled a wagon and driver round and round the corral. Then I spotted Faron, he looked sheepish. The teenagers that he mentored had won money and placed well. I met a bunch of riders. They all said that the horses had really been wild and difficult. Usually after the second buck (if you can stay on) the ride is easier. Faron admitted that the horse had seemed quite docile and he never talked to it which he always does. He said that it was the rankest horse he had ever ridden. Faron had done a rodeo a few weeks ago and won prize money. He has a few more rodeos to go and said he will never make the same mistake again of underestimating a horse.

I told Faron to call me with his new dates. Sunday, after Faron was knocked out, I went back to my car to check my ephemeris. I saw that Sunday was one of the worst dates for Faron for success. I did tell him after about it. If I had looked before he rode, I would not have told Faron not to go, his money had been paid, I would have urged caution.

We drove back to Edmonton with a full car and lots of rodeo talk from the other occupants. At the end of the day, my face was red, I guess I did get some sun.

Arranged Marriages

A client of mine, Joanne was having trouble with her oldest son. Lewis was in a group home because he was very angry. He tried to get his way by using a knife to threaten Joanne. Lewis was only 10 years old and you would think subduing him would be easy. Joanne’s social worker was visiting and Lewis attempted to scare the social worker by jabbing the knife at the worker. Eventually, Lewis lost the knife ( not sure if he gave it up or what) and was returned to care.

The second time I visited Joanne, I asked her if she had been in love with Lewis’ father when Lewis was conceived. Joanne shook her head and then said no. She had never been in love with Hal, Lewis’ dad. That was the problem.

All the clients, I saw who had difficult children were asked if they had ever been in love with the fathers of the difficult children at the time of conception. I never received a yes.

In order to attract a positive soul, a couple need to be in love with each other at the time of conception. When the heart chakras are closed, any entity can step in. When the heart chakras are open, the love will attract a calmer being.

There was a case, years ago in Quebec where the mother and father were estranged. Mom was pregnant and wanted to terminate the pregnancy. She really disliked the father who was an ex-boyfriend. The dad had been abusive, physically and emotionally. Mom went to a psychic to decide whether terminating the pregnancy was a good idea or not. She was told the child would not only have physical problems, but mental problems as well. So Mom terminated the pregnancy before the court had decided one way or another. Dad was not happy, but there was nothing he could do.

I don’t know why some of the major religions of the world have allowed arranged marriages. As a practicing astrologer, I have cast many charts for extremely unhappy women who had been forced into arranged marriages. Many of the arranged marriages were put together by astrologers. The couples had absolutely nothing in common. The marriages must have been arranged because of the money, not the potential for a great love relationship.

A recent client came for her chart. She seemed sad. I asked for her husband’s birthday. When I saw the aspects, I said he had a bad temper with a negative attitude. My client said, ’I hate him. I don’t agree with arranged marriages.’

I asked if she would force her children into this. She said ‘no’ rather adamantly.

Raj was in love with a man in India, but her parents did not approve of him. So, she was forced to marry someone else. Her husband brought her to Canada and the abuse continued. Her parents, in India, thought that she should stay married. I asked if her parents had been happily married. No was the answer. Did they love her? I could tell by Raj’s chart that it was unlikely that Raj had ever been loved. Great, a generational thing with no love, that attracts negative people and negative relationships. Is the world a better place with such people? I don’t think so.

Anyway, Raj brought out a picture of her marriage day. There was beautiful Raj, in a ceremonial marriage sari looking so lost and sad. Standing next to her, was a beefy man with a slight sneer. He looked angry. I could feel his negative energy through the photo. I asked if her parents noticed anything wrong with him. She said they just wanted me married.

Raj then pulled out another photo of her face. Her left eye was black and blue and shut. The blackness went up to her eyebrow and down to the middle of her cheekbone. Although her right eye was open, there were lacerations all over her face.

Now there is an appearance in court and her ex-husband has sworn he never touched Raj. Raj has left him and said he has no heart. By the way, his parents had arranged marriages too.

Love is a necessary ingredient for marriage. Is it any wonder that there are so many angry people in the world? Where is the love? Certainly rare in arranged marriages. Getting pregnant with someone you don’t love who does not love you is flirting with disaster. How sad and very depressing!!!

I have only met one woman to date, who had an arranged marriage and is happy. She really liked her husband as a suitor and told her parents prior to the meetings that if she did not like the man, she would not marry him. She did marry him and they both seem crazy about each other. I love to see that.

I believe that India, for example is a Capricorn country. They believe in maintaining the status quo. Poor, neglected childhoods are common. Being bony, thin is normal. Capricorn is a very traditional, paternal sign. If their parents, grandparents and great grandparents did something a certain way, the way is continued, no matter how inhumane it is. Having money and power is thought to be the be all and end all. Capricorns will marry for money, status and power. I have heard that from many Capricorns.

If you want to have love in your children, it better be alive and well in you mate. Simple, really.

My Daughter and Angel Readings

My daughter calls quite often from Austrailia and we often have long discussions. The last three times she wanted an angel reading. Here they are.

April 5, 2010


Talked to C. today. She feels like she has changed. She wants to be the girl she was, not angry.
She had a dream of being at the club, but she wasn’t working. She felt very weak, passed out, so tired being there.
C. asked me to do an angel reading. Here it is.

We are here. Well, it seems obvious that C. feels the bar is taking the life out of her and that it’s time to move on before she passes out and can’t find her way or the strength to go. She feels she has returned to the land of the living and now is a good time for her to follow her heart.
She must be true to herself. How to do that when she does not know? The book you are reading will be a help. Love is all she needs to reconnect to herself and to the universe.

Thank you angels

• The book is called ‘Living in the Heart by Drunvalo Melchizedek.

If we write down our dreams, wait for a few days and read them aloud, they can make sense.


April 9, 2010

C. called today, she was quite upset. She hates the bar. She likes other people there but not the owner. She said he was a pervert. She can’t find another job. She asked for an angel reading.

We are here, we are here, we are there… We have been trying to help C. but if it strikes her as what she does not want to hear, she ignores! What she wants and needs are not always the same. She must listen to how she feels. If she feels good, fine, if not, should she pretend it’s still fine?
There are other opportunities, but not where she is. She does feel this, but does not wish to look elsewhere. Who knows what could happen should she? We cannot tell her what to do but only encourage her to pay attention to her feelings. Sometimes that is the best, to begin young, to go there --- to do that!
Does this sound cryptic? It is not meant to be that way. But, the one truth she does know is, the place of work is not good for her. Money is not a good reason to stay, ever! This is important she is true to herself first.
She needs to be around those who wish the best for her by being the best for themselves. Any other association is unhealthy. We will continue to help when she asks, whether C. notices or not. We are here to support.

Feeling good about herself, is not as good as it could be. Having positive people around her is best. We love her. We love you C. Listen, listen. We are always around. We are hard to hear when you are worried. Yet, we shall stay. All ways.

Thank you angels

Finally, C. quit her job the next day.



April 19, 2010

Talked to C. last night. She doesn’t know what to do, is confused. She can’t find a job since she quit the bar. She said.’ I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I don’t want to be a failure. Dad’s going to think that. I can’t find a job.’
Then she asked for an angel reading. I thought that the angels always have a cool way of phrasing things, so I was happy to oblige.

We are here, that crazy, little, funny C! She is fun to watch but has a way of blocking what is right in front of her.
She knows how she feels, uneasy, unsure, sad, etc., but she does not want change, change of where she is and the fun she loves. So much is in her waiting to be released. She must believe that her best efforts in any area bring results --------- not always the results she wants but the best results.
Bets efforts in an area which is closing should not be seen as a failure but as an entry to another endless assortment for new possibilities. When one door closes, stop pounding and look for the new door (in your case, you see exit). Will you take it? Your choice!
Remember each closure means time to move on. Enjoy the excitement of the unknown and believe it to be great with new opportunities. Then, every new entry will seem less like an exit.
We love you C. We have been trying to help. You are so funny!. Sometimes the heart urges what you attempt to fight. Go with the flow when you done your best. Obstacles happen for a reason. It’s your choice to push them or go around. You have pushed. Is it working?
You are plucky, indeed. Love you, we do, dear C.

Thank you angels

Of course we had a long talk, but C. was much happier when she hung up.

Drugs : Illegal and Too legit To Quit

For a number of years I worked as a family support worker with five different agencies in Edmonton. Social workers would call the agency because someone was needed to help various families with different issues. The issues were parenting, addiction, abuse, education, health, budgets etc.

I saw many parents who had trouble coping with day to day life. Within the first couple of meetings, I would be told background histories on my clients. Every one had stories of abuse, lots of abuse. A question I always asked was, ‘Who loved you?’ As long as my client had a father, mother, grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle or someone who really loved her/him, I knew my client had a fighting chance to deal with whatever and come out of the situation stronger and healthier than before.

Those who could not name one person who loved them took longer, if ever, to come out of their personal fog.

Street drugs took their toll. Heroin addicts and alcoholics aged really badly. I saw so many that were twenty years younger than me look twenty years older. It was sad and yet it seemed that somehow at a younger age, they could have been helped. The children brought up by addicts often disliked their parents, but again found themselves on the same path.

Then, I worked for a company (Excel) which ran and owned over thirty group homes and day programs. These were homes for adults over 18 years of age. The disorders were often multiple, brain damage (strokes, beatings, drunk driving, drugs), autism, schizophrenia, bipolar, Alzheimer’s, deaf (plus), depression, developmentally delayed (plus), diabetes, leukemia on and on. I think I only met one client in all those homes who was not on medication. Other clients did meet and mention to their Capital Health worker that they would like to get off the drugs. These souls were told in no uncertain terms that to get off drugs meant leaving the house.

Alternatives were never brought up. Pharmacies tried to stay with clients, but the one favoured by Excel forced many others out. What a cash cow!

At the beginning, each client had a photo taken which was placed in the medication book. This made it easier for new staff. In this way, the client could be recognized and the wrong meds would not be given. It made me feel sick to realize that many of these people would never get better and would end up taking more and more meds, usually stronger and stronger.

A client in one of these homes came in, very depressed. He stayed in his room for days and rarely left the house. Then somehow, he perked up, followed his interest in cars and got a part time job. He began staying over night at friends and family. Noah began missing his meds. Yet, he was still doing well. You see, when a client left for the day or night, he took the meds he needed with him. Noah did not always come back when he said, but he was doing great. A staff member, in charge of the house, was quite controlling and resented his coming and going. The fact that he was getting better did not seem to occur to her. Eventually, he did leave, much better than when he came. Noah wanted to get off all the meds and missing his allotted pills in such a gradual fashion seemed to be fine. Noah told me that he needed to feel like he was doing something. Anyone in a depressed state is usually blocking creative flow. Doing something, anything is a good start.

My point is clients on a lot of meds, such as taking pills morning, noon, suppertime and bedtime can really age clients. As I went from house to house, I would ask when the photos were taken. In two years, these clients looked as if they had been on the streets. In five years, whoa, they did not look good.

When I mentioned that legal drugs and street drugs age people pretty much the same way, I was met with dumb struck looks. This convinced me that no one wants these poor people to get better. I do have to say that most of the Excel staff were good, compassionate but no one seemed to think of any other alternative. What seemed obvious to me such as eating healthy not processed food, was not a big deal in some of the houses. The microwave which eliminates 98% of nutrients was in constant use. In one of the all male houses, the same clients would return hour after hour for another microwaved meal because they could not get full.

Combine bad food with microwave food and a barrage of medications, I can see why clients rarely left. They just died.

Skin (Cancer)

When I was a teenager, my best friend, Brandie liked to sunbathe. So I would walk down to the beginning of the street, change into my bikini at Brandie’s house, grab a big blanket, go into the large backyard where we would lie down and sun ourselves. Although, we had each other for company, doing nothing bored me. I became hot so quickly that I realized baking myself on the outside may bake me on the inside too. Since I was a fair skinned blonde, I could not take too much sun. After the second time, I told Brandie that I felt like a roast and could not bake in the sun any more.

I worked as a camp counsellor or a recreation leader in the summers and that was plenty of sun for me. By the end of the summer, my hair was bleached white and my nose and cheeks were sunburned red. I had great colouring once my peeling nose healed.

I still spent a lot of time hearing other friends saying, “you’re so pale. You should tan.”

In 1976, I attended the University of Guelph. One day in my only Genetics course, the teacher walked in and asked who did not tan. Only three of us in the whole class raised hands. The professor went on to tell us that we were the healthiest because our bodies warned us when we had too much sun. I was elated.

In 1989, I attended a seminar in Calgary. The guest speaker was a well-known Naturopath. He was a robust healthy looking man who gave a funny informative talk. Well, he was a Sagittarius, after all. He said that he never met anyone with skin cancer who had a healthy diet. Fascinating! I had met a few people who had gone through healing from skin cancer and all of them had a fast food diet.

Now, there is such a huge increase in skin cancer that not only people who eat fast food get this cancer but also those who don’t eat fast food regularly. Could it be that all the chemicals and additives that are put in our food have helped cause the increase?

If I go to the grocery store, I really have to check the ingredients list. Most people check for just fat or salt percentage, while I look for words I can’t pronounce.

I have decided that organic food is the safest for me and my family.

A lot of farmers are coming down with skin cancer and other cancers. When I have checked, these farmers regularly used pesticides or chemical fertilizers. I mean these guys are supposed to be eating the best. What’s wrong? It must be the chemicals. The firms that mass produce these chemicals have convinced farmers that chemicals sprayed on the food don’t affect the consumers. Ya right! If even the farmers are getting sick, what stops the rest of us from being affected? Nothing! Because we have been. The population has been getting sicker and sicker. We end up getting treated with more chemicals to clear up the toxins we have already ingested.

What is the answer? I would rather spend a little more on healthy food then spend time in the doctor’s office or hospital getting treated for God knows what.

Thank goodness there are still natural farmers out there growing healthy food.

Have you ever tried to melt margarine on the stove to make a sauce or to cook something in it? The strong smell of plastic assails the nostrils. Apparently, margarine is one molecule away from being plastic!!! Yum! Yum!

One more thing before I stop, has anyone ever read the list of ingredients on the new and stronger sun screens? There are very few words that a nine year old could read, never mind an adult. If I won’t put chemicals in my body, why would I put CHEMICALS ON MY SKIN SO THAT MY BODY CAN ABSORB THEM? Am I being silly? I don’t think so!

By the by, we need the sun, there is now a Vitamin D deficiency running rampant. Why is that? We have been told that the sun is harmful. It can be if we get too much sun. The sun is a great Vitamin D provider, so go for a walk, use moderation, but go out in the sun at least 15 minutes a day.

Okay, okay, this is the last comment. Last fall, 2009, I had a chance to see an ex sister-in-law of mine. She used to make comments about me being pale. I had not seen her for about thirty years. Susie did not look too bad, but she had all these freckles all over her face. I spent most of the evening trying to remember if she ever had freckles. When Susie brought out old pictures, it hit me how much she used to tan because I could not see a single freckle in any of those old photos. I realized when I left that she was full of age spots, not freckles. Am I glad I didn’t spend any more time turning myself like a roast in the sun. Whew! Close one!

Being Gay, Angelic Take

We are here and happy to discuss what we notice and observe.
Human beings have separated themselves into them and us: male, female, black, white, this religion versus that religion, this country versus that country, married versus unmarried etc. With all that separation comes judgements, rules, and restrictions on and on.

The bottom line is really love. Who loves another and the love is returned equally, is lucky, lucky, lucky!!!!

It matters little what race, religion, culture or sex, love is love. Where love is, compassion, thoughtfulness, consideration and acceptance abound. When in love, souls are tender, nicer and more compassionate with others. Everyone wins!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where love is outlawed is surely a soul test. For each soul will come with its own challenges and rewards. The biggest challenge is acceptance. The biggest reward is love.

Love is all that should count. When love is missing, violence, harshness and cruelty can slide right in. Is not the world better off if more are allowed to love who the heart is attracted to? Everyone will benefit.

Some souls choose to go the gay route and often it is not so gay. Families, friends and strangers present judgements and thus obstacles, even though it is NOT their life to judge, yet they do! Dissatisfied with their own, it appears.

Happiness does not exclusively belong to so-called heterosexual couples and yet these ‘straight’ people have decided it does. Quite ridiculous, yet fairly common on this earth.

All beings have a spirit with a heart and soul. Feelings come with every soul. What person feels it is his right to decide what is best for another soul, based on colour, religion or sex? ---- An unhappy one!

For those struggling to be accepted, accept yourself first. Then the world will open to others to accept you. Be open, generous and err on the compassionate side. All of you deserve to live and be loved, all--- every man, woman and child, equally.

Do not attempt to block or hurt another because of intolerance. Be an example of love, only love can make great positive changes. Acceptance is key. Get rid of judgements. Pay attention to intuition and be free with love.
We understand how difficult this can be, but it is essential for spiritual growth and happiness, right here, right now. We love you for never giving up. That is bravery!!!!!!!!!!!!

Judgements, tension, anger, guilt and shame all go back into the body and can result in physical problems such as cancer. What you give out does come back. Love has a great return.

PAST LIVES

Alrighty then! What is the big hullabaloo about reincarnation? It happens. We have lived before. Buddhism, one of the most compassionate religions and hence a wise one, accepts reincarnation as a fact of life. When I became aware of past lives, it made such sense to me. Where do little geniuses come from? A so called innocent with no prior knowledge all of a sudden can play an instrument at a very young age. Where did that come from? Why are some of us born poor, rich, malnourished, homeless, athletic, smart, dumb, healthy, crippled, male, female, developmentally delayed, a genius, brown, black, white red or yellow? Does only one life make sense? I mean really, now!

I began to see past lives superimposed onto strangers when I was attending the University of Calgary in the eighties. I was getting a degree in Education and was meeting a lot of people daily. My friends and I discussed Astrology, reincarnation, psychic experiences and anything else that was interesting. My friends began to become more psychic and I began to see past lives with every person I was introduced to. Because I was not shy about stating my impressions or intuitive thoughts, I would tell the person I had just met. In fact, my friends began saying, “Maggie! What did you see?”

The very interesting thing was that habits and interests that attracted this stranger showed themselves in the past lives that I picked up! For example, one woman I saw had been a dancer in a harem in one life and stoned in another for speaking up against injustice. Now these are only two that I saw, but these two had affected her life. She brought fears and talents into this life as a result of those two. When I did her chart, many more lives showed themselves, but those two were strongly exhibited to me. In this life, Kari was very afraid of giving her opinion. She kept quiet. She also showed dancing talent when she was very young and her parents put her in dancing lessons as a child which she still participated in.
Check out your children, they often show strong fascination with unusual subjects. My oldest child could draw very well and constantly drew military operations, especially with knights, shields and planes. I picked out 17 names as possibilities when I was pregnant with him. I left the list at home when I went to the hospital. After he was born, I asked my husband to find the list so we could try the names on for size. However, one name had haunted me from the beginning and when Bruce (my husband) could not find my list, we chose the one that had stayed in my head. So my son Lance is now in England. His hobby is sword-fighting at castles throughout the summer. He is in a re-enactment group. He looks like a knight and acts like one.

My whole point is to tell you about some of the past lives that I have seen with my special needs children and adults I have met and worked with. Okay, I worked in a day program with adults who displayed many different kinds of disabilities, physical, mental and emotional. Sometimes all disabilities showed and sometimes not. Some were autistic, verbal and non-verbal, brain-damaged, deaf and mentally challenged and /or physically, some were in wheelchairs, although most could walk. There were adults with brain damage from accidents or born like that, schizophrenics with other problems as well, and some Down syndrome adults. Anyway, walking into a room full of these different souls was fun. I would begin to see past lives with the noisy clients.

When a being decides to come back into a special needs body, whether it happens at birth or later, there are reasons. Much can be gained from inhabiting one of these bodies, especially spiritually. Those who volunteer to be in bodies which do not respond well are there because they want to make a difference and spread compassion. Hence those souls are usually positive and kind. The ones who fight their existence in this life can be very difficult to interact with. They were likely ‘encouraged’ to enter their maimed body to learn what was needed to learned, but are not happy. However, music makes them all happy. Have you ever been in a room with 500 ‘disabled adults with great, dancing rock music? The dance floor fills up quickly with gyrating bodies and not one soul cares who is watching. They all dance their hearts out. It’s a great sight!!

This was my first day in the downstairs day program. The building was two floors and today I would be downstairs with a lot of non-verbal adults. They needed greater supervision and the ratio of staff to clients was often one to one or one to two. Upstairs, the staff ratio could be one staff to three or four clients.

When I first walked in, there were two rooms with about twenty clients. Then I saw Kay, who was dressed in green. With her black, shiny short hair and dark eyes, she looked quite pretty and then Kay had a fit! A low growling started in her throat and she began biting her left arm, sinking her teeth over and over until a staff stopped her. Kay was angry and tried to fight the staff to get back to biting her arm. A past life as a woman in a rich and influential family showed. She was beautiful, spoiled, heartless and cruel. Those who tended to her every whim were subjected to harsh punishment for any perceived transgression. Little Kay had people beaten, tortured and killed. She listened to one but her own selfish urges. Now Kay could hurt no one but herself. Kay had been institutionalized at a young age. Her mother could not handle her and left the province to live in the U.S.

Then there was Garrett who lived in a wheel chair. He could not say words, just sounds, except for ‘Hi there’. He had all kinds of problems including cerebral palsy. Garrett’s forehead was also slightly elongated. The first time I had Garrett for the day, I was told, he was quite happy but laughed at nothing a lot. Garrett was about 21 and could not even feed himself but what a great kid!! I looked where he looked and watched his reactions to people carefully. Friendly staff and kids got’Hi there’, others got nothing. He laughed at funny interactions between others, not at nothing. Garrett was a loveable sweet young man. His presence brightened my day. The last time I saw him, I took Garrett for a ride and I parked the wheelchair to talk to him while we watched the planes come into the airport (which was close). Garrett began to cry and I knew he was going to die soon, so I told him what a wonderful soul he was. He responded by watching me and I knew he knew he would not be here much longer. Garrett had agreed to be put into this body, this prison of his. He had a few past lives as a soldier that I could see. Garrett did die a few months later, although I never did see him again.

There was also a young man, the same age as Garrett with the same problems and non-verbal too. Reese was nice looking but moody and unhappy most of the time. I never worked with him but I saw a rich pampered life before this life. He shunned those who were not perfect and his personal judgements on those who were not up to his status, were cutting and intolerant. What a difference!!!

A fourteen year old teenager on my bus was from India in another life. I saw him wearing white, his clothes, his turban, even his surroundings were white. Everyone listened to his every word whether he was foolish or not. He had position and money. Now he is on a special needs bus and has trouble relating to his peers. This boy, Ryan , wants a lot of attention. When he sings, he wants people to tell him what a great singer he is. He will sing even though the person next to him tries to ignore him or the kids on the bus tell him to stop. Often he will say mean things to others in a whisper, which I have addressed. Having a life where everyone hangs on to your every word is unrealistic and now Ryan still wants to be important. I told him that since he was born with three sisters, he must study them if he wants to figure out women. He likes girls but can be rude and mean with his comments. His reaction is ‘What? What?’ when I call him on his comments.

Another fourteen year old is very aggressive if called on his behaviour. I saw him in France where he had been a thug. He stole, lied and fought for a living, killing a few people along the way. Now he is probably FAS. Mason lies at the drop of a hat, his Dad even asked me about something Mason had lied about and I could see his Dad’s frustration. Mason is better, but he is the only one who was verbally aggressive with me, yes, swearing to show his contempt when I called him on his actions.

I heard a rumour that many of the top military people in Israel are re-born ex-nazis. It certainly makes sense. Whatever you hate, you become. The Nazis were known for their obsession with the Jews. No wonder, Israel lacks the compassion they once had.

Hate no one because all you are doing is hating yourself.

What about being gay? Does it not seem obvious that some men have been women before? Please!!! All you have to do is watch “Queer Eye for The Straight Guy’. Alternately, it seems obvious that some women have been men. We all change sexes if we have something to learn and something to gain. Appreciate everyone, for whoever you hate you will return to experience what you handed out. Gay marriage, why not? Love is love and that’s all that counts.
Why are we so judgemental with anyone who seems different or unusual? We must appreciate what is unique about each of us.

We really get away with nothing, so I would rather do good stuff. That feels better when it returns. Be happy being you or you will never like anyone else. Negative, miserable people are energy drainers and end up alone. Misery loves company, but no one likes miserable company. I prefer the company of positive, cheerful, funny people. How about you?

SCHIZOPHRENIA

I worked in group homes and day programs with individuals with an assortment of problems. Autism, schizophrenia, brain damage, cerebral palsy, developmental delays were a few represented. So many were wonderful people and I am grateful for the experience.

Some of the people who were diagnosed with schizophrenia had used drugs when they were younger. Many had never used drugs, but some family dynamics were strange.
The one common theme for me was that the voices these people heard always told them terrible things about themselves or others.

One client, Rose came from a family with one parent. Her father died when she was young. Rose’s mother was extremely controlling and although Rose had a good education, she really doubted herself and was guilt ridden. Her voices always told her she was in trouble, people were talking about her and jail was imminent. No matter that none of these dire (to Rose anyway) predictions came true, Rose still listened.
When the voices would be strong, I noticed a big brown, elongated shape hovering well over her head. When I told Rose that the voices lied and never told the truth, the hovering thing poured over her head towards me. It looked like something from a horror movie.
Other schizophrenics I was around had dark shapes and brown things around them.
The voices are real despite what the doctors tell these poor souls.
When I showed my clients how to surround themselves with love, the voices disappeared for awhile. If I burned sweetgrass or sage, the voices would disappear for about 24 hours.

Several years ago, I attended a special lecture on Death and Dying at the University of Guelph. The teacher was a man called Ian Currie. Ian went on to tell about the case of a client at a mental hospital. It seems that a woman, Joan had been hearing voices for some time. She told her family that a man was bothering her, always talking to her and constantly harassing her. No one else could see this man. Eventually Joan’s family took her to a psychiatrist and she was committed to an institution. Of course, Joan was on meds to silence the voices. She withdrew even more. Then Joan cut her hair really short and changed her clothing to look more like a man. She walked like a man and sat like a man, unlike her former self. The psychiatrist had Joan come in for an appointment and she sat there answering question with aggressiveness and hostility. The psychiatrist asked what happened to Joan and while questioning ‘Joan’, the doctor sent Joan white light and love. ‘Joan’ became agitated and said he didn’t want to stay in the body anyway because the woman (whose body it was) never left him alone. With that the male entity left and Joan returned.
A psychic, Helen Main told me that she died for several minutes and during that time, an angelic guide took her to a few places. One of them was a bar. She could see all the patrons of the bar drinking and hovering around the drinkers were dark spirits. When the drinkers became overcome with alcohol, the negative entities would swoop into the bodies. Then arguments and sometimes fighting followed. Heavy drinkers are often not themselves. The refrain that so many people over the years have repeatedly stated, ‘He’s a nice guy when he’s not drinking is a rather true comment.
I call these negative takeover entities ‘hitchhikers’.
Since I have also been around drug users and alcoholics, I have seen hitchhikers. My own daughter, C, told me a story about such an experience. It seems that my daughter was visiting a friend of hers who was trying to stay off drugs. My daughter had been through a drug stage and knew how dangerous crystal meth could be. C’s friend decided to call up someone to deliver what she (Kate) was trying to avoid. The dealer arrived looking scuzzy. He was the first love of my daughter’s. C was shocked to see how bad he looked and Nathan was surprised to see her there. Now C’s friend Kate and Nathan both tried to get her to do crystal meth. C decided to go to the washroom to try to clear her head and decide what to do. After she splashed cold water on her face, C looked in the mirror and saw a terrible looking apparition hanging over her head maliciously staring at her. She gasped, dried her face and hurried out of the apartment.

There needs to be a different way we deal with mental illness. All the meds in the world may block the voices for awhile, if they are lucky. Have you ever seen pictures of people who have been on meds for a few years? You’d swear they were on street drugs. Those drugs do age them. Anyway, I can’t imagine hearing voices and discovering that no one believed me. Schizophrenics are told over and over again that there are no voices, it is their imagination. I don’t think that will ever speed recovery.

This is the angelic take on schizophrenia.
Those souls who have attachments despite what ‘modern medicine’ likes to believe, are caught. This is a result of karmic control from other lives. Controlling and manipulating another through one life can cause the manipulator to be controlled by another, eventually. Most upon the earth do not give any credence to what is not seen or felt (by them). They are definitely blocked not to accept that there are things that go bump in the night.
Those diagnosed with schizophrenia suffer from having one foot in this world and one in the other. However, not all is bad because being around this balancing act helps those who are fearful, scared to realize (sometimes a small amount) that their fears are baseless. Not wanting to be in the same shoes as a schizophrenic can be an eye-opener.
All the medications in the world don’t really help because on one hand, meds can dull the voices but on the other hand, the meds can increase how much the person can hear. Just like street drugs can attract lower entities, medications can entice these same entities to stay around.

The voices are very destructive and it’s very hard not to listen when the voices are there constantly. Meds, drugs are not the answer. Perhaps, something better for the soul would be the answer. Love does indeed work. Those hangers-on operate on fear, guilt, shame and lies. Love is foreign, positive and can banish these lower entities. You must use good after bad. That is why anger does not work. Only love can clear up anger, change the energy.

Pluto

Holy Cow! Pluto has shaken up the establishment too. The secrets of the government, agencies working for the government have all found themselves naked, hiding in a towel. If what is presented on the outside is not the real deal, heads will fall and have they ever!

Remember the H1N1 fiasco? During this whole world wide sweep of fear, a former state minister from Finland stated that the vaccination was a sham. The plan from the drug companies manufactured the flu and then produced a vaccine to prevent what they unleashed. This minister clearly said that the drug companies wanted to make more money and this plan was formulated to make more. She warned that it was unsafe for young children and pregnant women.

As recently as last week, a European health organization announced an investigation into H1N1. The study will involve the collaboration between the World Health organization and the drug companies to make more money for their coffers.
There must be a fair amount of panic in the ranks.

Since Pluto rules secrets and secret organizations and Capricorn rules big businesses, this was bound to come out. The drug companies and their allies used terrorist tactics (Pluto) and are being exposed to the world. Capricorn also rules reputations, great reputations that have not been honestly earned are due for a shake-up.

Pluto in Capricorn can affect physical ailments involving sex and the spine. Issues which concern those body parts can be the tip off for you to straighten up and come clean. What is bothering you that you must talk the talk? It is a time for integrity. Judgements about others will bring in judgements about you..
In a relationship you better be the honest one, because secrets will come out. Whatever has been hidden, will be exposed. Sexual secrets will come under closer scrutiny. The only ethical way to act is from the heart.

Now Pluto is square Saturn. Saturn is the ruler of Capricorn, so it’s like a double whammy. Expect the unexpected. You must find a balance in your life by going against rules which do not agree with your heart’s reaction. Look for the good in people, especially your family. Be as honest as possible without any abrasiveness.

When the car, Saturn came out, I thought, ”Oh great! Having a Saturn in the driveway should bring in all those responsibilities to roost.” How many problems became magnified? Such a car is like having someone over your shoulder telling you to do what you need to do. Obligations involving family, marriage and work have a tendency to blossom uncomfortably. I did not want such a car.
On the negative side, Pluto represents war and endless suspicion and Saturn represents lack of love. Put the two together and they will do anything to get what they want.

As an individual being influenced by the planets, I must believe in myself which in turn allows me to believe in others. The energies of Saturn and Pluto will have a positive effect, even though I may have to try and balance duties with what is best for me. It is not as though I will escape, but following my heart is the best way to go.

The big companies and governments (Capricorn) around the world have taught anyone who works for them that the bottom line is money. No one is given a break, there is a lack of compassion in the prescribed rules. This is the time for the heartless big guys to pay the piper. As a worker in such organizations, why won’t you be the first to work with your heart? There are times in all our lives when we need a hand. Be in the moment and you will make the best decision for your future and maybe someone else’s.

When I went through my Saturn return, I decided to return to school, university to be specific. I hardly even felt the Saturn return because I was doing what I needed to do. One side effect was that I was pretty broke but happy. Check Saturn in your own chart and check transiting Saturn or do a solar return for Saturn’s placement.

ELECTRICITY

We all have electrical current running through our bodies, but being exposed to too much can be a bad thing.
One of my sons is an electrician who was a little Tom Sawyer when he was a child. He was the only one of my children who repeatedly put knives in the sockets, despite getting a shock. When he told me what he wanted to do for a living, I was worried. My son had a great apprenticeship set up to work with high power lines in Calgary. At the last minute, he backed out.
He told me that he had heard so many horror stories about other electricians getting fried or at the very least hurt. Knowing that his attention often wandered, my boy did the best thing for himself, he decided to go the business and residential route to become an electrician, not the high power line route.
Since then, my electrician son has returned to school to get a diploma in instrumentation. What convinced him, among other things, was how electrical power was affecting him. There were times when he had to go to sub stations. Those little cement buildings surrounded by chain fences with barbed wire at the top. Anyway, when my son would get out of his vehicle at these stations, he could feel the hair on his head stand on end as well as all the hair on his arms and legs. I quote him now, “I felt as though my DNA was changing.”

There are a couple of subdivisions that I drive through every day that have huge electrical triangular towers positioned in a long strung out line. These towers are close to some of the houses and I wonder how the nearby residents will be affected.

I grew up in Toronto. One of my best friends lived in a new subdivision (at that time) called Bridlewood. Across from her house was an open field with a long line of these towers. The towers ran through the middle of Bridlewood. A few years back, a study was done and it was discovered that the residents of Bridlewood had the highest incidence of leukemia in Canada.

My son, the electrician will not even consider buying a house near power lines. Just recently, an Alberta power company managed to push through their agenda for these same towers to be built close to a large residential area. The government backed the power company despite tremendous protests from the residents. How do these people sleep at night?

To do the right thing or not?

Several years ago, I was working as a support worker with an agency in Edmonton. I had clients, mothers, families with addiction, abuse, parenting, relationship problems. My job was to stabilize the family as much as possible. One client had been reunited with her children and was doing her best to stay sober despite some negative relationship difficulties. Joan had done really well, staying sober, returning to school, and taking care of her 4 children. We had been working together for about 4 months. Some of those close to her did not have her best interests at heart and wished to see her fail.
There was an episode where I had visited her when she had been drinking. This was the first time in 4 months.
Her sister was terribly drunk and had brought the alcohol to my Joan’s house. I looked after everything and I struggled with telling the social worker. However, I did. The worker Teresa, by name wanted to apprehend the children but wanted to cover her ass first. Two weeks with Teresa calling me, my supervisor, having meetings with her supervisor until finally it culminated with a conference with my client’s therapist.
The therapist watched me, I knew she was choosing her words carefully, but I could feel that she really wasn’t as supportive as my client thought. A day later, my supervisor paged me to say my client’s children would be taken. What the therapist had told Teresa without me had sealed the deal. I then called Teresa , the social worker, and discovered she was now operating without a heart. She was absolutely going to grab the children.

I spent all afternoon going over what I needed to do. I waited outside my client’s house until she returned from school. I told her what could be done to help her. Everything was set up for her and her mother to go to court the following morning.
The following day, her mother applied for a guardianship order and received it. When the social worker arrived with the police that day to take the children from my client, they were not there. My client’s mother had them at her house. Nothing could be done to remove the children now.
The social worker must have been angry because I was pulled from working with that client and a new worker was sent in. I didn’t care, in fact, I remember laughing when I was told by my supervisor. A year or two later, my supervisor ran into that client who expressed her gratitude for not losing her children.
I had lots of clients and I spent a great deal of time advocating for them. However, there were a few clients that I knew were incapable of looking after their children, due to being FAS, abusive or addictive or both. I always tried to follow my heart and do what my heart felt needed to be done.
When I acted heartlessly, I regretted my actions. When I operated from my heart and broke the rules, it became easier the next time to repeat my actions and not regret them.
When I was going through this, deciding to help my client, I was excited and scared because I thought I was going to get fired. That was the worst that could happen. I would not be hung or shot or burned at the stake. Why was I so afraid to do the right thing? I was afraid of the disapproval. Why did I care what other people thought? This was hard to do, but I was compelled. I was so excited that I could NOT do anything else but help Joan. I still waited with bated breath to hear what else would happen. Believe me though I felt nervous. Today, I am so glad that I did what I did.

Judgements

Whew! I got it! I just finished the angel reading on judgements, had a shower and began my yoga, when I recognized me in the reading. Judgements attract judgements, intolerance attracts more intolerance.
I discovered that the people I was judgemental about were very judgemental people and I was judgemental about their intolerance and judgements. Most people I run into are kind, nice people and I have a hard time with attitudes of others who see people as miserable and not nice. I need to watch my own judgements and be more compassionate if I have an opportunity to be around such souls.
I also see that being judgemental with a few causes a few to really be judgemental with me and I’m talking about people close to me. Whew!!! It all comes back to me, all the kindnesses and unkindnesses. Whoever I give it out to, doesn’t necessarily give it back to me. BUT I do get it back. What I say to anyone may not make a difference, but how I say it can stay for a long time.
A few years ago, my son, his children, wife and her mother came to Canada, from England. There was a family reunion in Osoyoos, British Columbia where my mother lives. Some of my children were there, a sister and a brother and many nieces and nephews. There were about thirty of us. My sister had planned a secret birthday celebration, not just a family get together. We stayed in motels on the beach, sea-dooed, swam, did some boating and tubing. We included my mother and she would be brought from her home to join us. We ate together, drank together and talked and laughed a whole lot. It was great fun and terribly thoughtful of my sister to do this and I was thrilled and flattered.
In all of this, I remember looking up to see Anne’s eyes staring at me. Anne was my son’s mother-in-law. On the beach, at the picnic table, anywhere I was, there was Anne staring. She never smiled, just stared. I attempted to talk to her a few times, but she only made small tight comments. If other people were around, she was much more animated.

When the gathering broke up, my son decided that we should travel to as many hot springs as possible for his English wife and mother. My daughter and I travelled in our van while my son, children, wife and mother-in-law drove with him in his rented van.
We stayed at motels in the mountains and sat in pools of springs in the mountains. One hot spring included the caves from which the hot water poured into a man made pool. My daughter and I walked and pushed our way through waist deep water into the caves while the water grew hotter and hotter. Sitting in all these natural and man made pools, the views were beautiful. Mountains and rivers and forests, they took my breath away.
Through all this, I could feel the tension and Anne’s eyes boring into me. Finally, we were a day or two from Edmonton and we found a gorgeous lake in the mountains bordered on all sides with mountains. Anne and I were left on the beach while the rest of the gang went in the water. We sat on a bench and Anne turned to me and ranted about bad psychic things were. No one should believe in anything like that, for you would only be let down. Anne worked herself into such a state that little bits of spit had gathered on her bottom lip. Was she angry! Holy! I didn’t say much except that when people are being helped, there is no bad.
After that moment, I really avoided Anne. I left the bench and sat on a tree stump and watched my children and grandchildren play. At this point, we had been together for just over a week. Edmonton was a short time away, when Anne would be staying in my house for three more weeks.
When my son and daughter left for any errand, Anne would snap at me. In front of them, she was a little friendly but still stared. When the children needed attention, she took over. If the baby was left and cried , I would offer to take her. Anne would snap at me, ‘No I’ll take of her. I’ve had three children.”
She said that a few times, meanwhile I had six children. One time
, it took Anne at least 20 minutes to stop the baby from crying, The baby fell asleep for about 20 minutes, woke up and cried for a good half hour. I offered to help and made suggestions but the crying went on and on. My help was refused with a sneer but when my son and daughter-in-law came home, Anne cornered her daughter away from my son and me. Poor Michelle stood there while her mother vented about how much she had to do.
Anyway three weeks of this, some racism thrown in and my ex-husband had a surprise party for me at a restaurant. When my son and his party showed up for dinner, they had already eaten. The rest of the party was festive as Anne stared and stared.
I should have realized how wounded she was and I do think I would handle it differently now. I don’t think poor Anne is well-liked in her own family. I think she would like to be liked and definitely loved. Hostility does not make friends. All I was doing was trying to avoid an argument so that my son and his wife would stay. I should have been more proactive, more compassionate. I need to be less judgemental and more tolerant, otherwise all I become is the person I dislike. There’s that old saying,’ if you become obsessed with the enemy, you become the enemy.’
This reading poked my eyes open. I just need to be what I believe.