Lady Jane Grey.

jane3

(This poem came into my head 10 years ago, but I didn’t know it was about Jane Grey until my guides told me. It was a painful poem to ‘hear’, and to write. I had never heard of her before so I wasn’t sure why I was given it, but it felt like it represented all women, oppressed and used by men for their own purposes and beliefs.)

Do it Quickly…

Do it quick and easy, her eyes pleaded as she knelt in front of him;

his sword above her head, poised and ready.

Do it quick and easy, so that I do not have the feel the pain of your fear and anger as the sword’s blade cuts through my  flesh.

Do it quick and easy, so that my mind is freed of all your dogma and corrupted beliefs;

So that I can be free of this world and its poisons, its hatred and joylessness.

Do it quick and easy, so that I may experience love again, in some other world, far away from here.jane4

Just one cut, one slashing pain and I will be free.

You think you are hurting me?

No, you are hurting yourself.

Trying to protect yourself from what you have been taught to fear.

Your sensitivity, your love, your heart’s fullness.

What is there to fear in love that you have to destroy it?

Answer me that.

Then make it quick and easy so that I too may know.

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The Dragon Ruby.

1b68acb58ac230767f25d5a13f14af61The sleeping dragon lay in her cave atop a mound of beautiful, multicolored gems and sparkling crystals. Through an opening in the cave roof, beams of sunlight  played on her golden scales, casting a soft golden glow all about her.

She lay peacefully, dreaming of many things, especially of all the jewels yet to be discovered in the world. She had lain there for a long time and had nearly forgotten what ‘outside’ her cave looked like. She was quite happy to sit and dream in the sunlit caverns, where the shadows danced in the depths and where she felt safe and sound. She had spent so much time alone, that she had nearly forgotten that others also existed besides herself.

One day, a visitor appeared in her cave. He had crept in so slowly and quietly she hadn’t even noticed him. He saw her, apparently sleeping on her treasures, and carefully he made his way closer, picking up a sword that lay discarded on the cave floor. It looked better than his own sword. He held it in his hands, testing the blade for sharpness.

‘Can’t kill a dragon with a blunt sword,’ he thought to himself, as a drop of blood appeared on his fingertip beneath the tip of the blade. Satisfied, he slowly pulled his old sword of its sheath and placed it quietly on the floor of the cave and then crept closer to the sleeping dragon. But she never moved a muscle. She didn’t even twitch.0621dragon_hoard

He started to feel slightly anxious. ‘It shouldn’t be this easy,’ he said to himself. ‘Something’s not right.’ He looked closely at the sleeping beast, watching the rise and fall of her body as she breathed. It looked like any other dragon. Not that he had actually seen one before, of course, but he had heard the stories. Big, fearsome, and definitely likely to devour knights and virgins, given half a chance. He had grown up with the tales told around warm fires on cold, misty winter nights when the days were short and the nights were long.

Like many of his kind, he was brought up to believe that in order to gain the treasures, he must slay the dragon. But this one was not exactly the fearsome creature he had been led to believe it was. He was perturbed, to say the least, and unsure of how to proceed.

As he stood, thinking of a plan and watching, the dragon shifted on her pile of jewels. She opened a large lazy eye to see the strange man in shiny armour, standing before her, wielding a sword and preparing to fight a battle to the death.  ‘Mine,’ she assumed.

ruby2She moved her huge head closer to the petrified man who stood rooted to the spot. She took a long hard look at him and then smiled a large, toothy dragon smile. She reached beneath her and took from her pile of crystals a beautiful, faceted ruby, nearly a foot wide. She held it out to the terrified man who had regained his composure and was standing in a warrior stance; legs apart and sword hilt held firmly in his hands.

In his mind’s eye, he could see the huge dragon preparing to incinerate him and he was ready for a fight, but instead she was holding out a crystal to him, as a gift. His heart stopped for a minute, and then, stumbling and tripping over his feet and his sword he scrambled back to the entrance of the cave and outside, to safety.

The dragon, still holding the ruby, was surprised at the man’s reaction. ‘What’s the matter with him?’ she thought, perplexed ‘Isn’t this what he wanted? Humans. I’ll never understand them!’ She lay back down on her pile of gold and gems and resting her head on the crystal between her large forefeet , she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.aaef61b09c5e4abf7f15852f8ac12857-1

Meanwhile, outside the cave, the man, breathless with fear, and still holding his sword, had fully expected to see, and feel, a blast of fiery breath emerge from within the cave and burn him to a crisp. He hid behind a rock jutting out into the cave entrance and waited, breathlessly…but nothing happened. Everything was quiet. He couldn’t understand it. What was she doing?

He strained, trying to hear a sound from within, but there was nothing, not a whisper. After a few minutes he decided to risk taking a look, so he carefully peered around the stone and squinted into the cave, but the dragon had gone back to sleep.

He leaned back against the rock and slid down to sit on the ground. He balanced the sword across his knees. This was confusing. All of his life he had listened to the dragon stories. They were murderous beasts. They razed villages to the ground. They ate virgins for breakfast and they basically had really, really bad tempers!  Only a knight, fearless in battle, had the strength and courage to slay the dragon and protect the village…and the virgins. But…and this is where it became confusing, this dragon did not fit into his ideas of ‘scary virgin-eating dragons’. He looked around the entrance of the cave, just to check. Yes, she was still there, sleeping peacefully, as though he had never even woken her up.

f9b997d2f0bf0e7da49761e5dfa77f91He stood up and began to pace up and down in front of the cave entrance.  “But all the myths say the same thing,” he argued with himself. “Only a fearless knight can slay the dragon and steal all her treasures. That’s the way it is…isn’t it?” He couldn’t figure it out! He felt rather powerless and didn’t like the feeling very much. This dragon did not fear him? Why not? He was a knight, wasn’t he? All dragons were supposed to fear the knights. They were brave and courageous men, fearless in battle and skilled on horseback. But this dragon had just looked at him and…smiled. Smiled, as if he was…nothing, and definitely not a knight.

Then  a thought struck him. ‘Maybe this is just a trick. Maybe she lures me in, and then when she thinks she has me fooled, she will burn me to a crisp! She will come screaming out as soon as I make an effort to take the ruby from her and I will die. Yes… that’s what she’s going to do.’

He thought he had it all figured out and, bristling with irritation, prepared himself to face the beast and save his land.

But then another thought entered his head, ‘But what if she really isn’t a normal dragon?  What if she  really will give me her treasures, without me having to harm her? That would be a win-win situation wouldn’t it? Nobody has to die, I get the treasure, she gets to live, what’s the problem? Yes, that was definitely a possibility. But then again, he was a knight. It was his job to slay the marauding dragon and free the people from the terrors wreaked on the countryside by the destructive, fiery breath of the winged demon.  1a413ee8f507bbcee0d346f18d959f5e

But, now that he thought of it, he had never actually seen any fields of corn, burnt to a smoldering crisp, or a virgin tied to a post and left in a field for a dragon’s meal. He had never heard the  great wings that sounded like thunder, according to the stories, as the dragon flew over the terrified villagers whilst they sat huddled and terrified in their miserable hovels. He had never actually known anyone to lose so much as a sheep on the hillside to a hungry dragon.

He peered around the rock again, but this time he was not so scared. However, now he had to make a choice. Which path would he take? On the one hand, he could walk away and look for a more accommodating dragon; one who would play the myth out with him and who he can slay so that he could walk back into the village like a hero, OR, he could see what would happen if he walked into the cave and accepted the ruby.

Part of him wanted to feel like a man, powerful and heroic, but he was also curious. This golden dragon did not behave like other dragons were supposed to behave and that is what drew him into her cave.

He decided to take the risk. To risk the fact that it might be a trick after all and she might just end up eating him. He would still be seen as a hero. Stories would still be told around winter fires about his brave efforts to save their village from the destructive, and dangerous, fiery dragon. They would still sing songs about him. Yes, that would be a good way to die.dragon

So, gathering himself, he stood in front of the dark cave’s entrance and strode purposefully, if not fearfully, back into the cave. He took his sword, held out in front of him…just in case.

He walked right up to the dragon, his heart in his mouth, and stood there…waiting for her to acknowledge him. He was very nervous, and his armour did nothing at all to keep him cool. He could feel the sweat begin to run down his back. He hadn’t realised it was so hot in the cave. But he didn’t budge; he didn’t move a muscle.

The dragon opened up one of her huge eyes and looked at him. After what seemed like an eternity, she rose up to her full height and extended her huge golden wings, bringing them around him, holding him in place. But oddly he didn’t feel scared anymore. He felt safe, and protected and very surprised.

The dragon lowered her head, pulled back her wings and looked him straight in the eye. She picked up the ruby that she had offered him earlier and held out the beautiful faceted gem, which shone with a brilliance he had never seen before. She waited for him to take it. He held out his hands and she placed the stone carefully into them. The ruby’s light shone even brighter and the dragon knew that she had given her treasure to the right knight.

397c7e07b16e5ff00e3e2fc39f36de4dAs he stood in front of her, he realised that not all dragons were the same and that heroes do not have to slay them in order to gain their treasures, but need instead to be brave and courageous, to do something different. They need to risk their hearts and be vulnerable.  In order to gain the Treasure of Creation, that is all that they need to do. He felt glad that he had returned to the cave. That he had been brave enough to do something different and challenge the beliefs he had grown up with.

He felt glad that he had returned to the cave. That he had been brave enough to do something different and challenge the beliefs he had grown up with.

Maybe the myths need to be rewritten?’ he thought, as he stared into the glowing light of the ruby. The dragon responded to his thoughts with a long contented sigh and softly closed her eyes.

They finally understood each other.

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A Life Well Lived.

ef3ed83cebe5821dd46d11294ea90313resnet8_6In the beginning, there was a man who had lived several past lives but, of course, he couldn’t remember any of them. His name was Janus and he was a silversmith, making jewellery for very wealthy patrons. He was very good at his craft and people came from far and wide just to have a piece of his work.

One day while he was sitting in his workshop, making a particularly fine piece of silverware for a noblewoman with every exacting demands, the little voice in his head intruded on his thoughts and told him that he would have to go far away to a land he had never been to before.

He was astonished, for he had never heard the Voice so clearly before. It had been there all along, giving him ideas for his work, telling him to add a bit here and lose a bit here; twist this bit this way and add a jewel or crystal there. But never had it spoken so clearly and definitely. It was so definite that he knew that he would be unable to ignore it, so he collected together some of   his possessions and set off on the journey, leaving his wife and baby daughter behind. His wife was distraught but knew that there was nothing she could say that would make him change his mind. Once he had an intention he could not be swayed until it was achieved. A very good quality one might say, in other circumstances…

victorian-man-with-top-hat-carrying-a-suitcase-walking-in-the-old-town-at-night-jaroslaw-blaminskyHe travelled for many miles, collecting and accumulating many beautiful and different designs for his work. Never once did he wonder about his wife and child, alone with no-one to protect them. All he could think about was his craft.

One day, while travelling down a particularly lonely road, he met a handsome red fox, dressed in a red coat and tails.

 “Hello,” said the fox with interest. “Where might you be going, dressed so fine and all?

“I’m on a special journey,” the man replied, amazed that he had actually met a talking fox. He’d read about them, of course, but never really believed them. They were imaginary, everyone knew that.

“I see,” said the fox, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Might I travel with you aways?”

“Be my guest,” the man answered, delighted to have some company on his journey. However, what the man did not know was that the fox was a thief, but not just any thief. This fox stole memories and hid them in the small tin box he always carried with him.picsart_09-15-10-13-25

One day the man asked the fox what he carried in his tin box, for he had noticed that the fox never let it out of his sight.

“Oh this?” the fox,  answered casually. “These are all my treasures.”

“Oh,” the man was intrigued. “May I see them?”

“By all means,” answered the wily fox, for this was how he stole their memories. He opened the box with a little key which he kept in his waistcoat pocket. He slowly opened the lid, watching the man’s curiosity growing and growing. Suddenly the man pulled back in surprise.

 “Oh,” he said, staring into the dusty box. “It’s empty.”

“Well, of course,” said the clever fox. “My treasures are not to be seen. They are far too important to be visible.”

The man was confused and suddenly found that he couldn’t think straight.

 “I feel strange,” he said and he sat down to rest on the grass verge. His head was spinning, and his heart was racing and he thought he might faint.

He sat there, with his head in his hands, struggling to feel normal. What he didn’t know was that the box was full of memories, other people’s memories, and now his memories were in there too and he didn’t even know it. The fox used other people’s curiosity to trap their memories so that he could use them for himself. They made him feel bigger and better than everybody else. Because he was, after all, a very small fox and he needed to feel very big.

The poor man sat on the side of the road, shaking his head, trying to focus, his eyes  flicking this way and that.

picsart_09-15-10-04-58“Well, if you’re ready then,” the fox said, locking his box and tucking it back under his arm.

“What?” asked the poor, bewildered man. He didn’t know that his memories were now in the little tin box under the fox’s arm. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, have you forgotten?” asked the fox with a sly grin. “You were going home.”

“I was? Oh yes, now I remember,” he said, confused. “Oh but I can’t seem to remember where my house is…”

The fox gave his companion some directions knowing full well that the man would be lost forever. But once he was out of sight he would even forget the fox, and so the fox didn’t care.

The poor man wandered the countryside looking for his home, which he could never quite find. He’d forgotten that he was a master craftsman and that he was on a special journey. He couldn’t remember anything at all. So he wandered and wandered until one day he met a young woman who asked him where he was going, for he looked very bedraggled and old.

He replied that he was going home but that he couldn’t quite remember where his home picsart_09-15-10-06-00was. The young woman recognised him as her long lost father who had set off on his travels many years before and who had never returned. Even though she had not seen him for many years she could never forget his face. She had looked at the only picture she had of him, for all of her life. Every part of his face was engraved on her memory…and her heart.

“Perhaps I can help you?” she said to the old man.

“That would be very kind,” the old man answered with relief. He had been travelling for such a long time and no-one had thought to help him, seeing only the bedraggled old man.

The young woman, who loved the man greatly, guided him back to his home, which took many weeks of travel. When he set foot inside his shop he didn’t recognise it all. In fact, he did
n’t recognise anything. But the girl understood, for she too had met the fox and she too had seen his little tin box. But she was smarter than the fox and had snatched the box out of his paws and opened it herself before the fox had had the chance to trick her,so now all the memories were hers, even the fox’s. Now she knew everything and she made it her life’s work to give back all the memories to all the people they belonged to, a task which had eventually led her to her father.88a782a48d52d9360c9b

When the old man regained his memories he was overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude and asked for her forgiveness.

“Why do you need my forgiveness?” she asked. “Don’t you know that love forgives all?” And she took the old man’s hands in hers and kissed them.

“But it is I who should be asking for your forgiveness,” she then stated simply.

Surprised the old man asked her why.

“Because,” she said, “When I was a small child I wanted your love so badly that I forgot the most important thing in the world.”

“And what is that?” asked the old man feeling curious.

“That no matter what happens, no matter how small and insignificant you think you are, you are never alone. There is always someone who loves you. Even if you don’t know it.”6a0112791cb10528a40120a656e2b2970b-500wi

“I don’t understand,” said the man.

“Because I felt alone and small I wanted you to learn how it felt to be lost and alone. When I came across the fox and tricked him out of his box I knew what had happened to you but I wanted you to feel the same loss as Mother and I felt when you left us. I wanted you to learn that lesson. So I didn’t seek you out at first. I wanted to return all the other memories to those other people, especially the ones who had helped another. They deserved to be helped.”

“What?” shouted the old man angrily, “Because of you I have wandered and struggled for years. I lost everything. How could you do that?” Then he stopped and realised what he was saying. She was not to blame for his leaving, he had done that himself. He had met the fox and been tricked by him. She had done nothing. It was all his own fault!

The young woman looked into his old and crabby face. “I did it because I love you,” she said. “Now, when you see someone alone and lost perhaps you will understand how they feel and perhaps you can learn to make their lives better? When you leave your family, who need you, to follow your own dreams, it makes life very difficult. When you left us we had a terrible time. We had no money and mother had to take in other people’s washing just to feed us.  But she never blamed you. She understood.”0a40ddaedda5e40f7fe6405484a677ca

The old man realised what the young woman was saying and his heart broke. “I am so sorry,” he said. “I never thought about all of that. I was only thinking of myself. I see now that we need each other and that our way can be lost when we don’t know who we are or where we are from.”

“That’s it,” his daughter laughed joyfully, hugging the old man tightly. “Now you understand…and so do I.”

The old man had learned a difficult but very valuable lesson. He learned that in order to be someone in the world he must think about and care about other people.

That is how we know who we are and why we are really here.

And that, my friends, is a life well lived.

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The Vain Rook.

1a056bd246f49b0a09f31f5520b552bfOnce upon a time there was a very vain rook. He spent most of his days gazing at his reflection from a branch high up on a tree that grew on the side of a very large river. The river was so large that he couldn’t actually see where it began or where it ended.

His branch overhung the river in a particularly quiet part of the river, where two little channels separated from the main river and created little islands, surrounded by clear, slow moving water.

Every day from his perch he would sit and gaze at himself, admiring his long shiny black feathers and his grey-feathered neck.

“I must be the most beautiful bird in the world,” he would say to himself as he turned his head, this way and that, to see as much of himself as he could in the water. He spent so much of his time preening and admiring himself that often he would forget to eat and the other rooks that spent time in the tree thought that he was the craziest bird that they had ever known.

His parents, whose nest lay high above his branch, despaired of him, wondering how they had raised such a vain chick. They shook their heads and sighed and worried about what would become of him.trout-71279_960_720

One day, while he sat above the water, admiring himself as usual, he spotted a fish swimming below him. The fish was looking for flies as she was very hungry and she created ripples in the water distorting the mirror-like quality of the water’s surface.

“Hey,” cawed the rook loudly. “What do you think you are doing there? Can’t you see I am doing something?”

The fish looked up in surprise. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?” she asked, her mouth gulping in a large fly that just happened to land on the water above her.

b4c4faa65d14185d55f27ed71c4893fa“Yes I’m talking to you!” the rook said indignantly, and he stuck his neck out trying to bring his beak closer to the water to get a closer look at this rude intruder.

The fish went on looking for flies and other tasty morsels and as she was so hungry, she didn’t really have much interest in the rook or his behaviour.

“Are you listening to me?” the rook demanded, becoming more irate. The fish swam around so much, and created so much rippled water, that the rook could only see the dark shadowy outlines of his body. Gone was the shiny lustre of his feathers and his long sleek wings and dark piercing eyes.

“Can’t you stop?” he yelled loudly in an angry caw. “I can’t see myself anymore.”

The fish stopped swimming and looked up at the angry young rook, her curiosity overcoming her need for food. She poked her head up out of the water and took a couple of gulps of air. She stared up at the rook, whose beak was now right in front of her little face. She had to twist her head slightly sideways to get a better look!

“So…what are you doing?” she asked the bird, who was by now hopping up and down and doing, what to the fish, looked like a very comical dance indeed.

“What am I doing?” screeched the rook, “What am I doing? What does it look like I’m doing?”

The fish looked puzzled. All she could see was a young black rook sitting on the branch of a tree gazing into the water.

 “Are you…fishing – perhaps?” she gulped warily.

“Do I look like I’m fishing?” asked the rook in the kind of voice only reserved for the stupidest of animals…or in this case, fish.

“Well, come to think of it, no you don’t,” answered the fish. “I mean I’ve seen those beautiful kingfishers flying high above the water and then diving deep to catch smallfry, but no, you don’t look like one of those,” she reflected. “I mean” she added with a relieved grin, “I’m glad you don’t look like one of them. So, if you are not fishing – then what are you doing?”

“I am taking care of myself,” answered the rook imperiously, thinki37720c01bbb6230ee826977a5fb6bf02ng to himself that this was the most ridiculous fish he had ever come across. Didn’t she know anything?

The fish frowned a fish frown, which was barely perceptible to the rook. Not that he was looking at the fish anyway as he was too busy trying to see his own reflection.

Taking care of yourself…” the fish repeated, trying to ascertain what this meant. “Em…I don’t mean to sound stupid,” she added after a short pause, “But how does sitting in that tree, looking at the water all the time equal you taking care of yourself. I don’t understand”.

The rook, now believing entirely in the fish’s stupidity, explained in a slow manner, just so that the fish would understand what he, the clever and vain rook, meant by taking care of himself.

“Well,” he said, puffing himself up, “I look at my reflection in the water so that I can see how I look. I have to look my best you know, as do all birds,” he jerked his head in the direction of the other birds, “But they don’t understand that.”

“Riiight,” said the fish slowly, still not really understanding what the bird was talking about. She thought about this for a minute, then she asked carefully “So why do you need to look your best?”

The rook looked up to heaven, exasperated beyond measure. But at the same time, a little doubt was starting to creep into this mind. He had done this since he could leave the nest, in fact, he reflected, since even before he left the nest. He remembered sharing the nest with his brother and two sisters and as he grew older and bigger he would peer out over the edge of the nest and see himself reflected in the water below. He thought then that he must be the most beautiful of birds as he never could see the reflection of his brothers and sisters in the water – only his. He felt that this must surely be because he was the most beautiful and so the river only wanted to see him. He must be the special one. And so it was important that he look his best at all times, otherwise the river might lose interest in him and then he would be…just ordinary…like the other birds. “No,” he thought, feeling a little worried, and stating aloud, forgetting that the fish was beneath him in the water “I am the most beautiful. I am special.” He looked down at the water and saw the fish, who was looking up at him with a quizzical expression on her face.e90fa288a111d58832b52f5c2d24698d

“You’re special?” she repeated, curious now as to what this crow saw in himself. All she saw was a rook, and not a very handsome one at that, if handsome was a word one could use with rooks! “And beautiful?”

“Yes, yes I am” stated the bird, straightening his neck to create the best profile.

The fish laughed. She had to go beneath the water to get her breath back as she was laughing so hard now that she thought she might drown with laughter. Once she had composed herself she rose again to the surface.

“What do you mean – laughing at me?” screamed the rook, flapping his wings and bobbing his head up and down angrily. “What is so funny about that?”

“I just don’t see what makes you the most beautiful…or the most special of all the birds.” The fish answered chuckling. “I mean…you’re a crow. What’s so special about that?”

The bird was furious. “I’m not  a crow,” he sputtered, “I am a beautiful rook. And that is why,” he added breathlessly, “the river loves me so much. She sees me everyday and shows me how beautiful I am. Just look,” he pointed his beak at the water. “See, there I am, right there. How wonderful I look”.

And the bird leaned out over the water trying to prove to the fish just how much he was loved for his beauty.

The fish was by now in hysterics. After all, she lived in the river, she knew that the river was just water and didn’t love anyone. Water was water!blue-ripple-pond-madeleine-arnett

She began to swim in circles and the water became very agitated.

“Stop, stop,” screamed the bird wildly. “You’re ruining everything! Now I can’t see anything. STOP”.

The fish suddenly stopped and let the water settle into quietness once again. It became the calm mirror-like surface it had been before. The rook heaved a sigh of relief and gazed anxiously into the water to see himself.

Then the fish asked the rook quietly, “If the river loves you so much how come I can make ripples in it and waves so that you cannot see yourself anymore?”

The bird stopped gazing at himself and stared at the fish. Fear gripped his belly like a vice. He had never considered that before, believing that the river was all there was and that her reflection of him must mean that he was the beloved.

“What do you mean?” he asked shakily. He gripped the branch tightly with his claws lest he fall off the branch.8765476

“If the river loves you so much, which you believe it does, and that that is why she shows you such a wonderful reflection of yourself, how come I can come and change it all in an instant? How come I can make her change what you see?”

The rook became lightheaded. This thoroughly confused him. He had never thought of this before. He believed what he saw in his reflection and never for one minute thought that there might be another reason for it.

He felt that he was going to faint. What if the fish was right and he wasn’t the most special of all the birds…or the most beautiful? Then what? Would that mean that he was just like the others? Drab and boring, not shiny and black as he was? No, no that couldn’t be true.

“I don’t believe it,” he said finally, sticking his head in the air and refusing to acknowledge the fish. “It’s just not the truth. I am special. I just know it.”

“Oh you might be special,” the fish said, “But no more special than any other cro – rook.” Then she added, just to torment him further as she liked the effect her words were having on the conceited young bird. “I, on the other hand, am special. Look how I can change the water and make you look ugly and distorted.” And she laughed at the bird who had now turned a whiter shade of grey!

She spotted a fly and darted for it, catching it deftly in her mouth and swallowed it whole. She turned then and looked at him. “You see Rook, I live in the river and I know all of her moods and I know that in order to survive we must respect her and be grateful for what she gives us. But you, you will never understand that because you are a bird of the air and you do not know how to live in her, as the other birds do. They know where they belong but you don’t.”

She looked long and hard at him and then said,  “I wish you well, young rook, and I hope you find your true source of happiness one day.” And with that she dived beneath the water and was gone, her tail creating a splash behind her.

The rook sat on the branch, his wings drooping and low and his head fallen on his chest. He couldn’t bear to look in the water, to see the reflection which no longer meant anything. After a short while, he raised his head and watched the other birds in their nests. He watched the other rooks, flying to and from their tree. searching for food and he realised that he was really hungry. He realised that he had spent so much time looking at himself that he really hadn’t been taking care of himselfdsc1606 at all. He hadn’t been feeding himself but starving himself, and for what, adoration? Love? He didn’t know. But he did know this, he knew that he would never trust what he saw in the river again, knowing that the reflection could change at any time and it didn’t tell him who he truly was. He was a rook, and he was supposed to be flying free above the trees and the earth. And, he realised with gleeful surprise, it was something that the fish couldn’t do either. And with a loud and exultant caw he flew into the air and soared as high as his wings could take him.

He flew so high that his parents, who had been watching him and wondering what on earth had been going on, were suddenly struck with fear that he might fly too high. But then they stopped and looked at each other. They each had the same thought at exactly the same time, “Our son is flying…FLYING”. They cawed wildly and excitedly and threw their wings around each other. “Our son is flying,” they cried together. “He has become the rook he is supposed to be.” And they hugged each other and watched as their son soared through the clear blue skies where he was soon joined by the other rooks. The young rook’s parent’s hearts swelled with joy and they settled down in their nests glad that their son had finally found his wings.

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The Lightbringers.

In the deapicsart_05-17-05-38-56dfgd of night when all is quiet and the world is bathed in moonlight there is a sound which can be heard, a sound which reverberates throughout the universe. It is the note of Love which sounds, but which few can hear.

This note is felt by all, at some deep level, but only those whose ears are attuned and trained to hear it can discern it, for it is a note of very fine quality and only those whose instrument is trained can bear its vibration.

To those who are trained to discern this sound it can bring a mixture of experiences, both joyful and painful, for the note of healing is contained within it, and this brings both solace and challenge to those who use it.

For those souls who understand the note of service which this note demands, it can be a hard taskmaster, and equally a fairy godmother, for it brings both abundance and joy to the pain and disturbance which it creates.

To those whose souls have been trained to carry this note of love we say these things: you, and only you, are responsible for how you choose to utilise this Love, this note of the universal stream of Love. Only you have the capabilities and capacity to carry this note into the world of men, so that they too can learn to discern this note from all the other discordant notes which surround them. It is such a refined sound that it takes many lifetimes, and much sacrifice on the part of those souls who carry it, to bring this note into service. For to carry it means the sacrifice of the Small Will in service to the Greater Will, to the Whole.

 

But all is not so challenging to those souls in service to the Greater Good of humanity, for to serve in this way also means that you are the harbingers of many good things to the hearts of men, things which improve the lives of people everywhere. Many are unaware of this fact and will not recognise this service, but for you who carry it out, you can recognise it, for it brings much change to those places you inhabit. You can see how these changes are for the good, even if others see only the negative impact of such vibrations.

The souls in incarnation now face many challenges to accept this new vibration of Love onto the planet. It can bring change, both painful and dark, but the changes which are wrought are supremely necessary if humanity is to prosper in this New World to come.

How do you know which changes are positive and which are negative we hear you each ask, for to many they are indistinguishable. Change often brings pain but only when experiencing pain will many souls seek to strive for something better.  For all you souls in service, this can be a difficult time, for you can see what is happening and you know that it will ultimately change for the better but you see and experience the pain all around you and so are left feeling helpless and ‘grounded’. You want to fly but feel stuck in the mud of humanity’s thinking and living. You feel as though you must be doing something wrong, that you are on the wrong track, but this we tell you now: you are not on the wrong track. Your lives are pursuing the only paths open to you at this moment in time. For you are joined to humanity and cannot escape their pain, but you are also the lucky ones, for you know who you are and you know that this too will pass. Everything is transitory and humanity will seek, and find, its true path through all the difficulties it faces. But without your sacrifices, it could achieve little for your combined energies create the upliftment which all to humanity need to grow. You whose vibration is highest, and who often feel like the lowest, are the ones who will lift humanity into its next level of development. This we promise you.picsart_06-27-10-40-50as-2

Strive, always strive to be the best channels for this Love vibration that you can be, even if it costs you your personal dreams, for only the dreams of the Soul will come into manifestation and these dreams are there to inspire and lift those of you still straining to hear the Notes of Love and harmony in your lives.

Lift yourselves ever higher now and let the gifts of your souls shine through. It is now or never for humanity and the changes are upon you. Be the best you can be and do not fear when you find yourselves surrounded by darkness. For you bring the Light of Love into that darkness and without your light none can see the truth.

Shine now like you have never shone before and light the way for all the others who follow in your footsteps. We have told you this before and we will continue to tell you so that you are not weighed down by the darkness around you. Lift yourselves up and be the Light. Sound the Note of Love into your surroundings, using all of the tools we have given you over the years, and watch things grow in the dark. Watch humanity strive to reach the light of Love…and rejoice.

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Limbo…channelled

img_0062-3The Path of Limbo is a path dedicated to ‘waiting.’ It is not, as previously believed, a place in which to wait for those souls who are somehow lacking in Divinity, but it is a temporary path which we walk while waiting for a new direction to appear. It is like waiting for the lights to turn green! Many people on the spiritual path have to walk this path occasionally and as frustrating as it can feel, it is a necessary path, for it means that your true direction is only around the corner and only needs ‘cruising’ to get to it. It does not mean that you are stalled, but that you are ‘waiting’ for your direction to proceed. Once you have received your direction then the path of Limbo changes to the path of Direction and the energies increase as you move along it, speeding up the events which you have been waiting for.

At certain important junctures in your life you will find yourself on the path of Limbo but hopefully, you will recognise it as such and not fight in frustration and take an ‘earlier bus’ thereby missing your true Direction.

After you have started your path of Direction your Path of Manifestation runs alongside it, like the tracks of a train, so you see how important it is to wait, rather than trying to fight to get ahead before your paths are ready. Everything must be in place or the train will not move. There will be nothing for it to travel on and then you would be truly stalled.

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Health and Happiness. Channelled.

Two flowersthings matter, health and happiness…or at least that is what you believe. Health, you see, is a desirable state, but only to your conscious self. Ill-health is often the outpouring of inner-sensory data, filled with potential for change if you allow it to fulfil its path.

Happiness, on the other hand, is what you are told to expect once you have fulfilled society’s criteria for successful living.

“If you live right, you will be happy.”

“If you do as we say you will be happy.”

“If you hide your true desires you will be happy.”

But who defines happiness and how? Is it something that you experience forever, or is like a bird in the hand, liable to fly at any moment unless you hold onto it tightly enough? But if you hold onto it tightly you are liable to damage it, to change its form. So what do you do? You give yourself the illusion  of happiness. You set yourself up to think that happiness is your right  and that others have to provide it.

Now, it is no longer a reality, but an illusion, a mask which 115253b573c8fe266ecee84f991bf2cayou must wear if you wish to succeed. So again…what do you do, do you wear the mask and live the illusion of happiness, or do you take it off and risk the judgement of those too afraid to remove theirs?

This is the task for all of humanity: remove the mask and risk ‘no-happiness’, or keep the mask and keep the illusion? The choice is yours.

Be real and free, or false, scared and imprisoned. The choice is always yours. We leave you now to decide your own state of health and happiness.

Thrill seeker, the right is yours.

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