Calling An Angel

Last night I prayed to Archangel Gabriel. This is noteworthy for a couple of reasons. For one thing, I have never believed in the existence of angels arch or otherwise. For another, I don’t pray, finding no one to pray to.

But a week ago, Chevy called angels in to help me. And I felt their energy surround me. Palpably. So I have lately begun to allow for the existence of angels

Chevy said to ask Archangel Gabriel for help. I knew nothing about this being. I asked for Her help. And then I saw a shining being of light dressed in long robes of gold and green. The light was blinding. I asked Her to help me, to free me. She illuminated the area around us.

Something greasy and black was lifted out of my gut and recycled(?): a pre-verbal nameless fear.

Tonight when I Reiki’d myself the energy was kicked up to an almost unbearable intensity. I find myself holding back, and cutting it off. But it is thrilling. An intense rush.

Tonight I read that Archangel Gabriel’s energy appears as gold and green light.

I knew that.

The Audition

Tonight I auditioned to read Trudy Howell in a staged reading of “Let Me Down Easy.”

The first time I read the monologue, I thought this character is so hard-hearted and matter-of-fact about this enormous heart-breaking tragedy. It seemed outside of my range and not very sympathetic. I wondered if I wanted to read an unsympathetic character, even if I could.

The second time I read it, a few moments later, I had already become curious about this woman. I was stretching. Or so I thought for a while.

The third time I read it in the audition. The audience was moved. I had found all this emotional depth in the monologue.

I didn’t get the part.

As luck would have it, there is a NYC reporter in the play, and as usual I’m the only NYC accent around. So that’s the part I got.

On the way home, I made some connections. I’m a retired corrections manager. I was a parole and probation officer, a trainer, a hearing officer, a grievance coordinator, a prison supervisor. I did many many jobs during my career. Always I carried a badge. I arrested people when they were an immediate threat to themselves or someone else, and I was often perceived as a “hardass.”

So it wasn’t all that much of a stretch for me after all.

It was an honor to read for the part.

Roseanne Lasater
Spokane, Washington,

Arthritis A Wake-Up Call?

I think so. An alert that the time has come to start letting go. I mean, maybe this body is getting worn out. But the spirit that resides within hasn’t aged a day since 1963.

The wise have said it’s best to prepare. Such is Life, yes, a preparation of sorts. Not only for Death, which is accomplished regardless of whether we bother to prepare spiritually. No, Death is an event. A passage, not a destination. Over in a flash: breath .., no breath.

I think what I’m preparing for is whatever follows Death. Whatever that may be, it occurs in a realm of Spirit, not flesh. So the preparation ought to be Spiritual I guess.

Enter Spiritual Practice.

The Buddhists start with consciousness of personal mortality. The principle is “dependent origination.” Nothing exists in and of itself. Everything comes from something or some state and is moving toward dissolution and reorganization, or simply put “recycling.” This is the first step toward waking up in Buddhism. I personally find a rational relationship with reality agreeable.

This new view of life prepared me to begin letting go. Arthritis is doing its part as well, showing up with solid proof of degeneration in the skeletal system. I also have high blood pressure. Wearing out.

It’s weird being so young in such an aging body.

The Ego Knows

I call your attention to the transitory nature of Earthly experience.

Your physical body being a manifestation of this world, will be rolled, and rudely tossed and yes, battered about. You may be more or less fortunate in this regard. It’s best to be grateful in all events.

Here’s my theory: We came here to break our egos, like we break horses, so that having deposed it from its present high station, we may go forward spiritually.

Okay it’s just a theory, but as far as I can tell it fits the facts, so for me it stays in contention until disproved.

I imagine beyond the present challenge of subduing our unruly egos, there is a vast realm of creativity. A realm of unlimited possibility wherein we may develop our creative powers. What better setting than the present wherein to become responsible creators? Right in time to save the planet … What a Polyanna!

Meanwhile it appears most people are totally unaware of anything beyond their petty ego-centricities and half-baked fears. It seems to me they experience life along a narrow band. Like the blinders on a horse, their narrow range of vision controls their perception. I hope I’m wrong.

I want to wake up one day and find the energy different than I find it today. Yet there is so much beauty and joy already, perhaps we are closer than I have let myself think.

Life has taught me not to expect smooth sailing, and when a smooth patch comes along I try to enjoy it deeply, knowing it will be brief. I expect bumps in the road, and I’m getting better at not viewing them as misfortune.

If I choose to look I eventually find the lessons. As my husband says, in his slow Texas way, “Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while.”

I’ve paid the price for procrastination, denial and avoidance.

There are no passes, or exemptions. My lessons are mine and they’re not the same as anyone else’s. Unfortunately, the program did not turn off when I turned on.

In the end every body, like every being and every “thing” else will be broken by violence or by age, and it will die. That is the law of this physical world: all things, every manifestation however solidly contrived is coming from source and returning to source, coming into manifestation and going out again. This cannot be denied. Your senses tell you, the mind confirms it. This is the Law.

It’s exhausting to contemplate. But remarkable to experience.

Buddhists prepare for death. I find this admirable but wonder at how long and hard they seem to feel they need to work on it.

The Yaquis practice conscious awareness of their own coming death as a way to bring attention to appreciation of life in this present moment.

I like both approaches and practice both in my sloppy half-assed way. No paragon of virtue, I don’t flagellate myself to develop piety and humility. I do, however, confess my sins, first of all to myself. Once I have admitted to myself my behavior or thinking is flawed, I can admit it to other people.

This is my beginner’s effort at subduing my ego. It seems to show up everywhere. It’s telling me I’m fat and ugly as I walk past a mirror. Then it pats me on the back for winning a game.

All of my upsets are generated by my ego. It demands to have its needs met. Lately i’m trying to say no. I no longer want to be its slave.

I remember an old radio drama that used to be popular before there was TV. It was called The Shadow. It’s slogan was. “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?”


Tonight’s Prayer

Creator of All, please show me how
to be an instrument of your will,
that I might do less harm and more good. I commit to follow this path with mind, heart and soul together pledged, trusting your guidance will be there when I need it, that this life may not have been wasted. Amen

Food For Thought

I have no God.

I do have a Creator. The distinction is significant. I doubt my creator cares for worship, fearful submission or doling out rewards and punishments. These are, I believe, remnants of
the past.

I believe I (and everyone else) am like my Creator in being, myself a Creator, on a much smaller scale, which is of course heresy. I have always been a heretic. But my beliefs aren’t meant to be heresy, that is just what the established religions call them. So pretty much I stay away from institutions of religion, because they do presume to tell me what I should believe, and had better believe or at least profess to believe. At 13 I left the Roman Catholic Church, wherein I had been thoroughly indoctrinated, and struck out with my own small brain and big eyes to find my own way, which I have done, becoming a Reiki Master energy healer and something akin to a shaman, traveling out of my body, communing with spirits, visiting the “other side” and much more. And the more I learn the further I get from the Holy Roman Church. Say Amen.

It’s amazing to me that anyone still goes to these spired halls and participates in what passes therein for spirituality.

The Dalai Lama finds no fault with any of them. I guess I am less evolved than His Holiness, in case you wondered about that. I’m not a dilettante by nature, and I’ve long ago stopped looking for the church where I wouldn’t be a heretic. However my basic life path is primarily spiritual. So I speak about such things, with no authority at all. Read on at your own risk.

Lately, I am struck by how few people notice their words and actions create their (and our) world. Even their most casual meandering thoughts, as well as their most fixated hatred and their most seductive dreams of revenge … why stop there? … let’s not forget their maddest ravings, most hideous debaucheries, their most evil actions. All that. The dark side of a primitive brooding from which we have yet to awaken.

All sent forth upon an undefended sleepy world of flora and fauna, rock and sand, sea and land. The whole of creation bears the brunt of it. I wish I was more of an optimist.

Don’t think we are creators of worlds?

When we adopt a stray from the animal shelter, we create a home for it. It is no longer lost. It is home. We create it. Wouldn’t you agree?

Is it a good home or the type we see on “pet Detectives”? Depends what we create.

My point is that the world is like an art studio where we create. Most of us just dabble. Ah! But some achieve greatness. Make your own list. It will be different than mine.

What if we are here to learn to use our creative powers? It sure looks that way to me. Meanwhile most of us don’t think we are creators. Most experience life as a rapid bombardment, if not with actual bombs then certainly with non-stop incoming issues of one kind or another. I have no time to be creative, many complain, myself included. I’m too busy COPING to be creative. Well that’s a popular deception. Do we have all the time in the world or not a minute to waste? That’s a good topic for meditation.

Either way, if you look I think you will begin to see that every move you make has not only the potential to change the world in big and small ways, it DOES change the world in big and small ways.

I think it would be really amazing if people were aware. What would you do with full knowledge that your every thought and action has far-reaching consequences? Now that’s what I call food for thought.

Choosing the pain

The Daily Dalai: “Encountering sufferings will definitely contribute to the elevation of your spiritual practice, provided you are able to transform calamity and misfortune into the path.”

Don’t you hate it when it feels like he’s talking right to you? Oh boy. This one puts me in the crosshairs. Take a deep breath and relax. No blame.

So what do I see?

For one thing, I think I am a work in progress. Transforming calamity and misfortune into the path implies non-resistance. For me, I’m always looking for a lesson. But I’ve been running from pain for most of my life.

Now that I’m not taking anything but an occasional aspirin for pain, I am clear the decision to stop taking pain meds was a spiritual choice. I want access to the full range of my psychic and spiritual potential.

Because? Because there is so much happiness in serving. Because there is so much suffering. Because I can help.

If I’m disappointed I can always go back to pain medicine.

This is called having nothing to lose, but it’s bluff. I have lots to lose and I know it full well. And I view reliance on pain meds as weakness. What will I learn now that I have set up this experience?

And so, although I don’t have it all sorted out, I am choosing to be with my pain and learn all I can from it. And that is being on the path.

Whew! I think I’m okay.

Those Glasses Rose Colored?

The Daily Dalai: “The creatures that inhabit this earth–be they human beings or animals–are here to contribute, each in its own particular way, to the beauty and prosperity of the world.”

Ha. Ha.

They just don’t know it. Nor do they act like it. It’s one big shameless display of self-interest.

I guess when the cows start thanking us for liking hamburgers, I’ll start considering that possibility, Tenzin.

And humanity contributes what exactly to the beauty and prosperity of the world?

Memo From Earth

No one has a clue what is really going on. Who are we? Where are we? Why are we here? What should we do? Whose idea was it to blindfold us?

People cling to life down here and they’re terrified at the moment of death. Then they pass through, kicking and screaming and find themselves in a far better place. Now what was all that fuss?

Let’s be real:

This is not the best of all possible worlds. It is a kind of Purgatory where the ego is burned away. So much beauty and so much pain. But highly habit-forming, addictive delights abound. The pleasures of the senses. Yet they lack the power to sustain.

What holds us together in the madness of incarnation is the love. It’s the thread that knits us into the tapestry. Without love this world would die.

So we come through the gauntlet again and again, wondering what is the point of it. Until one day, we start to see things a little differently. The ego weakens, perspective is earned here through the experiences we have. Eventually, the thickest will break free of the spell.

From within the limits of this dense subjectivity we try to find our own way. We learn humility over many lifetimes of egocentric wandering. It’s all about us, isn’t it? Me, look at me …

In the end, if nothing else then boredom, that old reliable clean-up crew will at long last win the day.

No longer mesmerized by my reflection in the pond, I will eventually begin in earnest to search for answers. My view of life evolves. At the moment of death, will I say “Thank God that’s over!” Or will I balk? Cling to my ego. Beg for life?

Ah life! It’s so confining. This body with its five senses and its ecstatic pleasures is compelling, there’s no denying that. But when the mortal fascination wanes, we ought to move on to weightier matters. How about the well-being of our immortal soul? Is that as important as a night of sexual indulgence or a day of self-indulgent musing.

When we begin to see the limits of this existence, we set aside blissful ignorance and put on the mantle of maturity. There’s suffering at stake. Pay attention!

Is maturity the requirement for parole? is this some form of juvenile rehabilitation? Useless as long as we are in love with ourselves, the ego is slowly burned off, layer by layer, until the mature spirit emerges at last.

And then what?

And then you get out of here. Death is a liberation.