Category Archives: Cardinal signs

Angels Among Us Indeed

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Angels Among Us Indeed

Back in January 2017 I migrated to North Texas from the lowest regions of the state. It was a moment in time where I was at a crossroads of adult proportions, building the foundations for the next portion of my life. I have left behind another person, an immature version of myself whose behavior upon recollection, brings me horror. I don’t needlessly look back unless whatever was back there has threads of existence dogging me now. That’s how I know there’s more attrition that will take place. They say “forewarned is forearmed”. I’m not armed. Really all that means is I remain flexible in ways that count, to bend not break, be open to suggestions, integrate not separate, surrender. Attrition is defined as rubbing something off of a surface, or shedding extraneous casings, husk, if you will. It is also a military tactic where you defeat the flanks, wear them out until they give up. I prefer the rubbing version. It works for me. I also imagine seaweed draped across my arms and legs as I ascend from the ocean waves and I flick them off as I get to the sand, or just let them drop. Joy by attrition. (I have repeated this phrase in many articles here).

The Cancer Full Moon was still glowing silver rays when the next day I had let supreme hurts that I felt inside, rage in my world such that I couldn’t bear to be around anyone. I knew I was a porcupine and anyone who I spoke to was going to get it. So, I passed up on an important family function. I was distraught, not angry. I was afflicted with wounds, the mothers’ kind, the kind where her heart is full of sorrow for knowledge of separation from her child. It was very primal and I knew it was important, too. I was doing floor exercises for MFR (#jfbmfr) and my root and sacral chakras were so damaged from years of not being gentle with myself. This stuff wants to heal. It’s not pleasant at times but you know, the only way out is through. #joybyattrition Patience is key. Patience proves lovingness. Truly.

I cried all morning and finally fell asleep until late afternoon. At 5:30pm I suddenly woke up and looked up a community ad for rideshares in Austin. Austin is a happening city and you just never know. I decided I must find a ride up North. I have to be there at that gathering and I regretted my stubbornness. I really don’t let my mind derail me when impulses speak to me, like the one that gripped me at that moment. I emailed a few ads and got a response from one of them. I found a ride. He was turning around and coming 45 minutes in the other direction to pick me up. It was a large pickup truck hauling a small trailer. Halfway to the Oklahoma border, we drove right through the middle of Waco. They had built a huge stadium next to the freeway and used green colored lights. It was foggy…my ride and I are conversing. Hours and hours we talked and this sweet youngish guy was such an angel. I even said that to him at that point, as we are going over the bridge in Waco and the fog made the green lighting on the stadium light up the entire night sky in front of our eyes. It was like the Jetson’s (look it up). Another world in the ethers. He said “it’s funny you should say that because…well…I am an angel.” Okay, well, that was cool. I can handle that.

The ride seemed like a few minutes, not several hours and was successful. Since then, my climb out of the cave into the light has been an adventure I can’t describe. But I knew that is what I was doing and it was just okay. I called him a week later, but no more after that. I got texts from him occasionally in the winter but I had not even thought of him until today. Why? Well, because I have a new friend whose name is Angel and I had texted her. She didn’t respond so I talked to her and asked her if she got my texts. No. Oh. Huh? So, I called the number and asked if I could speak to Angel. Wrong number. Ok, now I am confused. OHHH. I got it mixed up. That “Angel” was the guy who had given me a ride in January when I was breaking through. I didn’t want to forget who he was so I programmed him in my phone as my angel but I forgot his name. I thought, “Oh, I should call him and let him know I am doing well and thanks for everything.” So, I called back. A young woman answers and is so kind and understanding but has no idea who I am referring to. I finally said, “That’s fine. Have a good night, sorry to bother you.”

I hung up…what’s this? I know people change their phone numbers a lot and maybe it was a wrong number but he may have just been an angel, for real and isn’t in this timeline now. Where ever you are, Angel, thanks for the ride, it really did help.

 

*check out my youtube channel for I Ching Readings and music. https://www.youtube.com/c/musicalchemy

 

 

Music Alchemy Rides Again – Show Me The Good!

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Astrology is powerful. Once I began studying my own chart almost 4 years ago I knew I would never use the word the “coincidence” again. In a neutral sense co-incidence is fine, it literally means incidences happening in relation to each other or at the the same time. However, since the word is weaponized to discredit real phenomenon let’s leave it alone. There are many more tools at hand and available language to describe the process of being a super-sensible sentient human and co-creating our world as we go. Every living moment, not just when awake, we are creators designing our personal universe. I wrote a piece in early March 2017 that I have not published yet that would explain what I discovered about my sleeping hours. It will be posted soon because in that article, which I am still editing, I describe my activities during sleep and what I thought was occurring. I have always had an active dream life but then I discovered upon awakening that particular morning exactly who and what was using my energy, identity and will with my consent, but not in my design. I immediately removed and revoked my consent to be used by and for anyone other than myself and for my own highest purposes. Once I did that, peace returned to my chaotic mind space and within my relationships where discord seemed to be having a party.

I have been muted, in a sense, of late for the past six months. In my silence I was formulating a new universe that I needed privacy to create and not share until the baby was gestated, so-to-speak. If you know about sonograms, people take pictures of the womb baby before it’s born. It seemed the thing to do 30 years ago and is widely used today. But, the process of sonograms to see what is an interesting scene of the unborn baby, has the effect on the baby of  blowing a foghorn into their ears within a distance of micro-inches. How would you like to have a foghorn blown into your ears from such a close distance? I wouldn’t. I imagine it’s pretty upsetting, not to mention, most likely obliterates their peaceful developing frequency at that. Anyhow, I don’t think it’s a good idea to peek inside where I can’t fit and is not my domain. You just have to wait! What’s wrong with waiting? I love waiting…zen helps me do that. But now, the baby is born. You can see it and talk to it, interact and learn all about it, even hold it.

Say hello my new universe! Welcome to my movie, my life of creating harmony within the reach of my voice and within the reach of my energetic life force to a community of interest! This is my first post in and about my new universe. All my other articles are still viable, they are channels of information as well as opinion. But now, I have a better view of the landscape and so my perceptions are broader, more mature. The same thing happened with my songwriting. My first penned effort in 1997, “Walk The Wall” was no less channeled than my latest  published album in 2016 “Another Dimension”. I’ve written lots since I published Another Dimension but no albums have been compiled since I took a “retirement” from my music career and decided I would be a writer last fall. Once I can integrate those elements, which is inevitable, the new records will come. First I had to integrate my Ascendant, Sun and Moon signs. I did that with a song called “Magnificent”. To give you a glimpse of that process I will quote the verse and chorus;

 

(backstory: Cancer Sun, Libra Moon, Capricorn Ascendant – the Cardinal “cross”)

Magnificent
c.2016 Music Alchemy
“My Sun is not online, my Moon is divine
I love all my houses all at once, to me they are all divine.
My Ascendant, you are magnificent! But, you’re almost too much.
Too many people, why can’t we all be one?”

 

So, back to astrology. I prefer to have a “healthy respect” for these powers, forces, energies and not be afraid of them. I’m so sentient that they “get” to me when I’m not looking. So, that’s why I started looking. We all are affected whether we are cognizant of it or not. There are indeed good aspects, but it’s the “we” part that makes it good. I’ve survived the recent tribulation we all just navigated to tell you about it.

Since the run-up to the New Moon, barely 48 hours prior and ever since, I have had to out-maneuver scorching Sun rays, wrestled with a surprised Pluto in my first house and won the match by pulling a disappearing act. I confronted Saturn about abusing Chiron and won the argument by holding space then reconciled them. I dodged Uranus’s lightning bolts successfully and redirected them to a hidden enemy who was successfully outed by Eris, (thank you Eris). I won a staring down contest with Mars who was trying to be a bully but overplayed his hand. I gave Neptune a hiatus, dismissed its forces for a friend who needed a well-deserved break which was authorized by Venus. I ejected a serial killer Moon beam out of the car and held my ground so I could eat ennobled food; which I was able to do a short time later. I wrestled Rahu to the ground to put him in his place using Ketu’s wisdom – it was a tie! (no surprise there!) I had Jupiter called to the carpet for his know-it-all attitude using reverse psychology and honesty until he decided to go into therapy.

Whew! It’s been a busy minute and I’m not even a fighter! It’s all attitude. It’s all trust. I fail with the Trust sometimes…I falter, I stumble, shake it off, get up again. I am convinced in what I know from my own internal compass, from the Guardians who watch over me and inscribe my every thought, word and deed, from the consistent application of the 12th dimensional platinum shield, from meditation on Source and most of all, from my awareness of what exactly is my reason for being here. Glad to be alive. Belly breathe now. Carry on…#letsdothis

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c.2017 Music Alchemy

Eyes Like A Hawk

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You may notice a hawk sitting near the top of the tree. It was late fall and winter was beckoning. Early one sunny morning I got out for a cool walk. The glow of the morning with such a nourishing solar bath illuminated everything including my mind. I was delighted that day to be outdoors and really taking in the moment. I enjoy many moments such as this. Sun is nutrient to me and inspires creative ideas and music. Toward the end of the trail as I was heading back to home base I noticed far off this bird. I waited until I got closer to get a picture but I was quite a distance from my shot here when I initially noticed it. Is it an eagle? A Hawk? I knew it was something because it was so big. I wondered about him for several days until one afternoon while on the deck talking with friends and watching the swollen Bear Creek down the bank, there appeared in the thick woods of the yard, perched on a low branch, a hawk. My friend and I stood up to the rail and just watched him. We were stunned. I said hi. Haha, I did, and it occurred to me this might be the same bird. After all, I know other birds exist, but he was the highest one in the trees that day, the only one actually that I saw in the whole forest that morning. So, I didn’t have my phone handy and not wanting to disturb that moment, I just looked at him. I saw his eyes, yes, they were “Like A Hawk” because he is a hawk and I saw his eyes.

It sounds elementary and it is. But it is also symbolic for me personally. I was transported back in time to third grade elementary school, the year was 1969. My teacher, Mrs. Miller, was instructing another student on a reading assignment and I was sitting next to the other student, I didn’t know how to read and was quite lost academically and needed help myself. She saw me looking at the other students paper and rebuked me and said “You have eyes like a hawk”. It startled me, what? I just need assistance about the lesson! But, she didn’t like me, or maybe she associated me with my trouble-maker older sisters. But, why would a third grade teacher demonize a child like that? Public schools on the East coast can be brutal. I was not stupid but I did have trouble learning to write and read because I was left-handed amongst a large right-handed classroom full of children. I distinctly remember, however, writing songs at 4 years old on the family’s small tape recorder. I even knew how to spell my name. It wasn’t until my family saw what I was writing, it was pointed out to me that it was correct just in the reverse order. I wrote from right to left across the page the letters of my name and my “stories” which I knew were songs. For two more years I was in and out of hospitals with illness and didn’t attend the public school until I was six years old. It took another 6 months for me to stop sucking my thumb and speak out loud in the classroom. A student teacher tutored me and made comments like “someday you will talk and once you do you will never stop”. I did attend frequent music classes with Mrs. Weiss with her upright piano. She taught us simple songs about kites and apple blossoms that were interactive. Within a few months she selected me to sing the lead for our First grade Christmas performance before the school. I guess if I wouldn’t talk, at least they could get me to sing. And I did. I have not stopped yet and don’t plan to.

These are not mind memories. These are cellular. I recently lost 60 pounds of weight over a period of 18 months. The last 2 months were a fasting period for me and not surprisingly, I lost more weight, this time on my upper body. I didn’t realize I was carrying so much weight in my chest, shoulders, arms, torso. This must be where these memories were stored. My heart chakra is in this region and my throat; the place where music and language come from; no coincidences. My arms, as well, are much thinner and the memories of getting confused about left and right are surfacing. I still do that now but I was born left-handed and had to re-orient and switch sides at six years old to accommodate the school. Initially they taped my left hand to the desk to try to teach me to write with my right hand. That’s probably when I went mute. I don’t recall how that happened. I spoke at home but I had a loud, large and chaotic family so I didn’t dare make proclamations there either. It sounds like torture. It wasn’t pleasant but I feel endowed with treasures by these stories because I have overcome a lot of bizarre situations which would shock most people.

I have shrunk in size and am very petit now. My 29 year old son commented how he doesn’t remember me being so tiny after visiting a few months ago. Neither do I. I always felt like my presence in any situation was undeniable. Maybe the 3 cardinal signs in my natal chart is why that is; sun, moon ascendant, (water, air, earth) all cardinal and Saturn and Jupiter are quite at home in the first. It’s a tall order, but then again, I have always been known to bite off more than I could chew. Maybe Mrs. Miller could see that and felt threatened. I must have been a handful.

But why am i thinking of this now? It took until much later for me to feel at ease with writing but once I did I excelled. Emotionally, however, I was scarred and had low self-esteem, understandably. That has taken decades to fully manifest and become something new to build on. I discovered many scars and now that I am down to my base weight, I am getting re-acquainted with my physical body. My point is, there are cells in my body now that are getting light shining on them for the first time in four decades or more. They are revealing the memories they were stored then, re-visiting these experiences and cleaning house. Some are disturbing like Mrs. Miller. Some, however, are enlightening; like how I instinctively wrote from right to left. My past life was obviously in a different part of the world, I don’t doubt. Like how Music saved me in first grade and has continuously ever since. I cherish those memories, I even cherish Mrs. Miller who was more a reflection of the times and was probably paranoid as hell about “da russians, da bomb, da germans, da mafia” blah blah blah…Whatever the reasons for these things, I won’t be-labor trying to get more understanding about that. I want to know the stories and let them have a voice now. My creative output really took off almost twenty years ago and indeed, my teacher’s aid was right; I won’t ever stop.

Have a great week!