Pegasus (watercolor 11x14) by NW

Continuing “Bridging Worlds” on Blog Talk Radio (Feb. 21, 2012) LINK to Show Feb. 28, 2012)

In the physical world of 3D if we want to get to another place we can jump. We can stretch. We can ride an elevator, take the lift, climb atop an animal or step into a vehicle, boat, plane, or even a rocket ship.

But what do we do when we want to go to an invisible, unseen place?

Well, we can go to sleep, have a dream, but we will remember it as a dream then, and it won’t seem quite real. It won’t have happened in our waking state. We can also simply close our eyes and have a vision. Visions are wonderful, especially when we can bring them through into our reality.

Others take a pill, a drug that will transport them to another world, and that’s certainly an option. But drugs are an artificial inducement, and no matter what the insight they provide, the source hasn’t come from our own being, or our own being-ness in the world. It is not something we have earned through our own efforts. And that does make a difference.

It starts with dreams. Dreams are our first gateway to the inner realms. I’m not an expert, but I know there are cultures who value dreams much more than we ever have—ancient cultures, and indigenous peoples have known how to use dreams to enhance and expand their waking life. It is a type of experience that can seem very odd and foreign to technologically advanced, right-brain societies.

Dreams can often be frightening, especially to children. I remember a dream I had at the age of two, and another one at the age of eight, that had such a profound effect on me that I’ve not only remembered them, but I’ve managed to incorporate them into my life-story, the memoir I call The Nancy Who Drew. I believe these dreams were messages from my soul, instructing me on who I really was, or who I was above and beyond this particular life in this particular body. And I believe that part of my mission in this life has been to connect the dreams to my experience here, and further connect them to an intuitive knowledge I came in with, was born with.

Creating from the imagination, whether it’s writing stories or painting pictures, is very much like entering the Dream World. When I was little I used to tell stories to my younger sister and brother at night when the lights were off. I made them up as I went along, and never wrote them down. But when I was thirteen I decided to write something down. I story I hadn’t told anyone yet. I didn’t get very far. I think one of the reasons was because my father was a writer and I felt intimidated by his vast intellectual knowledge, never feeling I would ever be able to catch up or know as much as he did, or write as well as he could. But the other reason was the story itself. I could only go up to a certain point of the action, and then I had to stop because I didn’t have a clue as to what came next.

This is how it began. There was a boy and a girl taking a walk down a path. The boy was named Andy, the girl was Andrea. They came to a house. They went up to the house and stood at the door. Now here is where the problem began. Should they knock? If they knocked, would anyone answer? What would happen then? And if no one answered, would they try the door knob and see if it was open? What if it was, what then? Or maybe it was locked. Would they leave then? I didn’t know where to take the story, where to take Andy and Andrea. So they stood there, paralyzed on the threshold, and that’s where I left them.

Door Under Water, oil on canvas by NW 2009

I’ve always felt bad about that story. It seemed to mark a creative failure in my young life. A lack of imagination. The door carried great significance in my dream-life, and would soon become very significant in my waking life. And maybe some part of me knew that. And that was why I was frozen. Frozen at the sight of the door. Frozen at what to do with the door, whether to open it or not. Should they go in or shouldn’t they?

To hear more, tune into Blog Talk Radio: LINK to Show, Feb. 28, 2012

Twenty-five years ago I had a vision of a bridge in consciousness. I had taken the leap across, and now I was back. An inner voice prompted me to build the bridge, so that others might see it and make the crossing.

I knew I possessed the tools to build this bridge. I was a full-time artist, living in a studio filled with colorful paintings. Many of them were quite large. I’d had to learn to build stretchers. So the first thing I thought of then was my hammer. It had been given to me by a friend when I’d inadvertently left mine at a gallery when I was hanging pictures. This new hammer was old and beat up, but bigger and heavier than my original one. When I thought of this hammer in connection with the bridge, I was also thinking of the song, If I Had A Hammer. I knew the song well. It was a protest song, a freedom song. It begins with the hammer, and then it goes on to if I had a bell and then a song. But it starts with a hammer. The hammer for smashing things and breaking them apart, or nailing them together.

As a painter, I had done more than my share of putting things together. Aside from stretchers, four pieces of wood with slats at the ends that fitted into one another, making a frame for the canvas to then be stretched upon with special pliers that gripped the cotton or linen so it could be stapled to the wood, I had put colors together. Forms and shapes together. I had cut and ripped things apart to make new things – always images in my case – by sewing or gluing.

But this hammer,  this hammer was a tool for a builder. A carpenter. A creator and destroyer. When I thought of how I was going to build that bridge, I didn’t think of a brush, holding a brush in my hand. Or one of my palette knives. I thought of the hammer, perhaps to hammer the message home. Home. That’s where the bridge was leading to. It was leading me home.

Home was nothing less than Heaven, of course. It was a place far away—or at least it had seemed far away until that day in 1987 when I had reached a crescendo. Now I felt I was sort of there. Here, but not here totally. I was between worlds, actually. Between dimensions. And now this inner voice was telling me to construct the path. Build the bridge across, not only in order for it to become more solid and more real so that I would be able make the crossing at will, but so that others could see it. So that I could say, here—here is the bridge. Let’s go!

But first I had to build it. And this did not mean make pictures of it. Though Art is certainly a bridge to realms in the non-physical world, making pictures was all I had been doing for a decade. This time I had tried to write about the pictures. From time to time I would sit at my typewriter and compose poems or prose poems, explaining what the paintings meant. But they always came out very abstract. I didn’t think much of my writing skills. And yet this inner voice, before it told me to build a bridge, it told me to write how I got to this place. It said I had painted enough, and now I had to write how I got here. To this heavenly place, which was still my studio, still New York City, exactly as it had been the day before, and the day before that, and yet now it was different. Now it was alive. The air was pulsing with energy. I was pulsing with energy.

Yet at the time I was very confused. Imagine, you are going about your life as you always have, and suddenly things change. It begins with feeling more alert, more sensitive. You find yourself reading meanings into what people say. Everything you hear seems to have a special meaning that pertains to you. Words have become symbolic. Even the letters of the words are now symbolic of something else. You find you don’t know what anything means anymore because it all seems new to you. You begin looking words up in the dictionary, even the most simple words, because you don’t know what anything means anymore. The dictionary helps, because now you are breaking things down, taking words apart, and you feel you are getting closer to the crux of the matter. But how can you, because you don’t even know what the crux of the matter is at this point. All I can say is that I had suddenly stepped out and away from where I had been, and I didn’t know where this new place was.

I had a couple of large houseplants in pots on the floor, and the pots were in baskets, one wicker, one cane. When I was thinking about how to make the bridge, aside from looking at my hammer, I was also looking at the green plants. They had both been given to me as gifts. One had been a cutting from a larger plant that I had nourished lovingly, and the other had been delivered to my door, robust and healthy, fresh from the florist. They both had big, waxy leaves. The leaves on the cutting had solid, unbroken edges. It was a sturdy plant. It was this one my attention was now focused upon, because it had come from a woman in the office I had worked at some years before. The boss was a man named Greenspan. Greenspan. The color green, and the word span, as in a bridge. A green bridge, that was what I was thinking. Something green, spanning the gorge or the gap.

I was fixated on the color green, on plants, and on spanning, or bridging the gap home.

The gap appeared to me as a break at the horizon, a tiny, almost invisible crevice—or visible only to one who was aware of it in the first place—between earth and sky, or sea and sky. A crack in the normal appearance of things. I knew it was there. I had been there already, sort of. It gave me an inkling that all was not as it seemed. And another world lay just beyond this one.

            The people who have been there in the place in themselves where words, patterns, order, dissolve, will know what I mean and the others won’t. But once having been there, there’s a terrible irony, a terrible shrug of the shoulders, and it is not a question of fighting it, or disowning it, or of right or worn, but simply knowing it is there, always. It’s a question of bowing to it, so to speak, with a kind of courtesy, as to an ancient enemy: Alright, I know you are there, but we have to preserve the forms, don’t we. And perhaps the condition of your existing at all is precisely that we preserve the forms, create the patterns…”  Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook

LINK to Blog Talk Radio Feb. 14, 2012

On Saturday, the day that she died, I was feeling sad all day. The weather outside was cold and the sky was a gloomy gray that cast a mournful spell over everything. I felt groggy, as if I couldn’t quite wake up. It wasn’t until that night that I heard the news of Whitney’s death. But then my mood made sense to me. Because we have the ability to be as tuned in as we want to be, to anything that is happening on the planet (or off – if that’s the case), and I think I may have tuned into the mournful cries of the angels out in the city of Los Angeles.

And yes, as someone mentioned on Twitter, Whitney Houston and quite a few Syrians died on Saturday. This is not to diminish anyone’s death, but Whitney was an icon of the music industry and her voice and what she did with her life affected millions of people.

I felt very sad about what I presume will be called an accidental overdose. But as I began watching some of her videos, the older ones as well as the newer ones, I realized what happened. Or what didn’t happen, I should say. Because she never got beyond her personality. She didn’t make it to soul consciousness. And then I listened to her song, “Where Do Broken Hearts Go,” and I knew it was going to be the right thing to address on my show Tuesday. Where in fact do broken hearts go?

My show is called The Nancy Who Drew, which is the title of my memoir, and the theme is Sacred Betrayal. My motto is, Betrayal is Sacred when the Heart can encompass the Whole. And I mean that. I mean that with all my heart. It’s a deep topic, a complex subject. It’s the kind of consciousness that doesn’t happen overnight. How could it? The heart has to encompass the whole. Which to me means the smaller self has to let go in order to discover the Higher Self. The Higher Self, or the Soul, the part of us that knows everything. That knows why we chose a certain kind of life. Why we chose the particulars of what happened.

We have to see ourselves as powerful beings. We need to develop a healthy ego. That too, is part of our journey. As Whitney sings the lyrics, I will never walk in anyone’s shadow. That was obviously important to her. Part of her knowing the I AM. But she sings about her personality surviving, dealing with setbacks. Sure, the body survived. And the psyche survived, intact in some ways, not so much in others. But unless the higher light is allowed to filter in with all its Grace and Power, and unless the Personality surrenders to a greater force, God, or a Supreme Being, or Source Energy – or whatever you choose to call it – there can be no healing. No getting over it or putting it behind you, because these falls, these betrayals, this pain that seems unbearable, happens for a reason. We have called it to us. As Khalil Gibran so beautifully puts it in The Prophet:

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for you pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

We have called it to us.

It was last week when I decided to call my show The Rose in the Fire. I was looking for material about dealing with the pain of love. I knew my show would be on Valentine’s Day, and since my subject matter is not the usual kind of happy love we like to think of on that day, I went to Marion Woodman’s book, Dancing in the Flames. “The Rose in the Fire” is the title of one of her chapters.

Whitney Houston was a rose in the fire, and she allowed it to consume her. Her beauty and her voice will remain with us always.

Song to Jung (detail) by Nancy Wait

Mental hospitals, prisons, and the graves of suicides, are filled with the betrayed. With those who got left out somehow. Those who were born into the light and found only darkness. Or found too little light to keep them going. Or didn’t have the tools to spark the flame of their own inner light.

For those of us outside of institutions who are dependent upon psycho-pharmacology, we are just as imprisoned.

I believe it all starts with the feeling of having been betrayed somehow. Maybe it’s by your parents. Or maybe it’s by the bank, or the government, or the system itself. Or your lover, your spouse, your child. The weather. TV. The media.

Whatever it is, it’s not the way you thought it would be. It’s not the way you expected it to be. You feel led up the garden path, as they say. Duped. Betrayed.

This is your wound. This is where it hurts. But there is another way. There is seeing the wound as a gateway. An opening. An opening into more Light. More understanding.

The other way is a path into hopeless or revenge. Into anger or destruction. Into more darkness.

My book, The Nancy Who Drew, The Memoir That Solved A Mystery, is the story of how I turned around my own experience of betrayal. It is the story of finding the sacred in the betrayal.

Through opening up my heart, and never losing hope, not completely.

Today I am beginning a new show on Blog Talk Radio on the theme of Sacred Betrayal, and finding the Blessing in the Wound. LINK TO SHOW

I cannot think of any more important topic than healing our wounds and letting go of everything that has held us back in any way, from being the true Divine selves that we are.

I begin, and will carry on with my theme of Sacred Betrayal, finding the Blessing in the Wound. We can go to all the healers we want, but in the end, we have to be willing to heal ourselves.

“What people actually need is not a tensionless state but rather the striving and struggling for some goal worthy of them.What they need is not the discharge of tension at any cost,but the call of a potential meaning waiting to be fulfilled by them.” Victor Frankl

Welcome to The Nancy Who Drew pictures. Pictures that pointed the way to her soul story.

Watercolor by Nancy Wait 1987

The other day I posted a painting on Tiferet Journal representing sort of the ultimate in balance. I called the picture Portal because I have found that when I am in perfect harmony – or as close as I can get to it, another door seems to open. It’s like I have to come into complete harmony and balance with something in order to be ready to move onto the next level, the next thing. In other words, being in balance with myself and the world around me, even if it’s only my apartment – or a room in my apartment, clears the way for the next step. And there’s always a next step. 

Today, however, I am seeing the importance of being off balance from time to time. When I am off balance I tend to see with new eyes. I tend to see things fresh.

I used to become very unbalanced when I fell in love or become fascinated with someone. My whole being felt upended. I hardly knew who I was anymore, and sometimes I struggled to think where I was. This was understandable, as strong emotions have always sent me into another realm.

I am thinking about this now because the other day I became obsessed with – a gadget! I didn’t want to go to sleep until I figured out how to use it. 

Staying up all night or not getting enough sleep, straying from my ‘healthy’ routines, upsetting my status quo – these are the things that can put me off balance. But sometimes this is good! Eating dinner in the morning instead of breakfast – anything to mess up the schedule. Because it’s when I’m off balance that I make new discoveries. A little more light might filter in from unexpected places. I know from experience there’s a price to pay if I stray too far, but with the passing years I seem to have grasped that law.

Nowadays, I take care to make sure everything is in order before I retire for the night. I put things away and hang up my clothes, don’t leave dishes in the sink, make sure the cats have full bowls of food. Because how do I know how long I’ll be gone? How do I know where I’ll take off to? And how do I know who I’ll be in the morning – or if I will even be the same person? Because tomorrow – what is that? 

These are perhaps the things someone does who is a little unbalanced – and knows it. But I know from experience that when my psyche – my soul – thinks it’s time to move to another level, it will put something in my way. Love, or maybe only a new gadget, but I will have to change somehow – and find a new balance – to accommodate this new thing. And that’s why it’s good.

This painting, Balancing in the Moonlight, is for sale on my art website or as prints or cards. LINK

Watercolor by NW 1987

The mindless place. Oh, I know it’s all Mind, but off with our thinking head, because we are going to the Inner World. The inner world of thought and being and intuitive knowing.

Inner knowing. Poetry. Art. A different patterning of words and images that catches us off guard. Takes us past the barriers of conditioning, of programming, to see differently. Hear differently.

Inner awareness. Meditation. Dancing.

3D moves along particular tracks – the grid of the physical plane. Our minds are the exception. Our minds are free from Time and Space. Inner Knowing enables us to Jump the Tracks of the Known.

I created this painting many years ago, and at that time, I was off in my head a lot. I think that is why I gave the diamond in the center so much heaviness in the lower half, and left the higher half lighter. I needed to stay in my body. Have that awareness of being in my body. Use my intuitive inner bodily knowing.

Some paintings are created for the viewing public, others for a client. And some, as this one was, are created for the artist herself, as she needs to see what the idea might look like, should she attempt to make it into an image.

I wanted to get out of my head. I began with a photograph of myself standing in a stream, and I cut off my head with some scissors and placed the head in the stream. A year or two went by, and I found myself painting this image of a head cut off. It was one way to tackle the dilemma of thinking too much – picture it! And while I was at it, I also pictured an enormous diamond shape right in the center of the body, which was certainly a reminder to stay centered, and possibly also a reminder that my riches were in my ability to stay centered. Headless, maybe, but whole, all the same.

This watercolor is part of a series I am in the process of posting to a new website. I will keep this blog updated as to when the new painting site is ready.

Years ago when I suffered setbacks (of my own making) (out of ignorance), and was ready to chuck it all in (i.e. my life), my Higher Self whispered, ‘Well, then you’re just going to have to come back and do it all over again, and it will be harder next time.’ So that was the beginning of my Surrender. And in that process of surrendering came the realization that I needed to become my authentic self. To take off the masks and stop pretending to be someone other than I was.

Sometime after that, I took a course called Showing Yourself that involved standing up in front of the group and being grilled by the teacher in such a way that you found yourself admitting your heart’s desire, your heart’s longing, and because this confession was now being witnessed by forty or fifty people, there was a sense of obligation to follow through in fulfilling my intention.

So I manifested getting commissions, quitting my job, and becoming a painter full time. It came down to having the courage to identify myself as an artist in the eyes of the world.

Time passed, and after fulfilling my goal as a painter, I took up writing memoir. And then I found it had been much easier to paint a feeling than to write about it. Paintings can be interpreted numerous ways, but words, not so much. Words stick. Words are specific. Sentences need to be clear, otherwise the reader is left wondering. And that is okay too, as long as the writer means it that way. But what is being served if I skirt around an issue with half-truths?

Memoir writing is cathartic. It can also feel dangerous. I had an instructor in grad school who told me I needed “to scare myself.” To be myself, and show myself, as I really was, as I really felt. It took a lot of drafts, a lot of revisions, and long periods when the manuscript just sat in the drawer while I worked up my courage again.

I published The Nancy Who Drew last June, but it was only the beginning of the story. Now I am working on the tough middle. And I’m finding I have to screw up my courage all over again, as if I’d never done it before.

A new set of stories, episodes and scenes, wait to be revealed. The life they describe has already been lived, but in order to relate it, I must relive it again. Yet I know how inspiring it is to hear another person speak their truth. We say to ourselves, well, if so-and-so can do it, so can I.

And so it is.

Besides (I say to myself), why should I be fearful of telling you who I’ve been or what I’ve done in the past? Will you think less of me?

So this is what I wish for myself – no, scratch that. This is what I intend for myself. I intend that I will have the guts to write unashamedly about the life I had the guts to live in the first place! This is not a story I want my family to read, and that is alright. They don’t have to. I am entitled to have my own life. I’m allowed to have the life I’ve already lived. And what I’ve done has led me to here, this beautiful place where I am now. In owning that life, I’m also owning myself. I am willing to be a sovereign individual. Let the chips fall where they may. Maybe no one will even read it! And if they do, I am curious as to what they will think, but I also like to think I am enough of a writer to steer them into thinking the way I want them to think. And in the end, what others think is more a reflection of who they are, than who I am. That’s what it’s all about really. Being who I AM.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011, I will be talking with Anora McGaha, poet, author, essayist, and editor of the online magazine Women Writers, Women Books  as on Blog Talk Radio as we discuss ways of moving beyond the small self and releasing fear.

Does the battle never end? Do the fears ever stay away permanently? Have you ever wondered if, in this imperfect, impermanent life, you will ever be released from the fears holding you back from being all that you can be?

Whether you work on your fears or play with your fears or read about how to let go of fear or attend workshops or pray or plead to the powers above, fear is something that can be overcome, and in all sorts of ways—or not overcome, but lived with, dealt with, as best as we are able on any given day, from moment to moment. It is up to us.

F for Fear. F is the 6^th letter of the alphabet. How does fear relate to the sixth sense? Take away the F for fear and we have the word EAR. All we need is a T-H at the end for it to spell Earth. Is Earth the fear-planet? Or is it the Love Planet? What does your EAR tell you? What does it say to your sixth sense? The word EAR – when you add up the letters in numerology, equals six. All these sixes! Hmmm…..

And six, what does the six mean? In the tarot it’s the card for the Lovers. It’s the card of Union. Divine Union, union of lovers, union with self. Three plus three, the Divine Triangle come together with itself. The Holy Trinity coming together with its earthly reflection.

How can love overcome fear? By opening up the heart, opening the heart chakra, we rise above the solar plexus where the ego resides, where the power of the personality resides. There’s a reason why the lower three chakras are located below the waist, and why the heart, throat, third eye and crown chakra are located above the waist. Above and below. We live in a world of duality of Above and Below. Of Night and Day, of Fear and Love. A world where energy rises, and the sun rises, and the moon rises. A world of openings and closings and endings and beginnings. Of new and old and everything in between. Because it’s all impermanent – in this world of matter in time and space and 3D.

We also live in a world of ritual and ceremony. And now, as we move into the calendar of shorter, darker days, and into the festival of lights, let us take a look at our fears. Let us dissolve them, even for a moment, or only in our imaginations, and set the tone and pace for the new year ahead. Dissolve them, love them, own them, let go of them. See their value. See if they have outlived their value, or not…

On Tuesday, December 6^th on my blog talk radio show Dancing in the Shift, we are going to look at the ‘f’ word, F for FEAR. I invite you to submit your fears to me either publically in the comments box below, or privately message me. Because I am going to read aloud the list of fears we know so well, and then I am going to burn them in a symbolic ritual.

'Floating' by NW 1985

‘Willingness to Shift’ is the title of my blog talk radio show today, (LINK) and these are the paintings I have chosen to illustrate the Shift. They are all watercolors. The first one I did back in ’85. I remember the feeling of being ‘cut loose.’ Being free to float. Feeling myself unanchored, in a new space. An unbelievably rich new space!

The second and third paintings illustrate the sense of shifting from one plane to another, or shifting to different planes,

watercolor by NW 1989

spaces, states of mind. I was very intrigued by angles at the time, and what angle I was looking at a thing or judging a thing or perceiving a thing. I had the sense it was all about invisible yet very real angles of perception. I felt ‘out of time,’ out in space—a new kind of space.

Then, just as suddenly as these images appeared to me, they disappeared. Shortly afterwards I got pregnant by choice, and entered into Time again. The kind of time that all expectant mothers and new mothers enter into, counting days, weeks, and months. Then counting breaths, then counting and measuring baby’s progress.

watercolor by NW 1990

But a few years after baby popped out, I popped out again too, into the Timeless once again. Into the more Universal sense of Time and Space I had become used to as a painter. I spent the next dozen or so years trying to meld the two states, Local and Universal. It wasn’t easy being ‘here’ and not here. I tended to go off somewhere and get a bit lost at times.

I see now that I was going through the integration process, integrating the different energies within, in order to clear my passage.

Living the dichotomy of being ‘here’ and not here can be tricky. It takes practice. And most of all it takes a willingness to receive directions from one’s co-pilot, whoever that might be. The designated driver, as it were. Someone outside oneself, or a being within. Or it can shift between the two.

I’ll say it again. Gaging the layout of this new land can be tricky. There isn’t a map, or at least not the kind we are used to. I think we have to create our own. Through expression of where we are now, where we are now. Now. And then let the moment go….

I recommend The Emerald Alignment. I have been using this meditation from Rainbow Light Foundation since the summer, but now I need to step up my practice so that it becomes automatic.

Here is a description from their website:

All healing is light transmission. The Emerald Alignment is a simple, safe and effective method of releasing anxiety and aligning the subtle energy of the body through the emerald ray. It is important to understand that the alignment exercise is not simply a visualization technique but rather a transformative process based on scientific principles. The visualization process is helpful in sustaining focus to enhance effect; however this also initiates an actual metaphysical process, which we may or may not be aware of. While many of us place great emphasis on maintaining physical fitness most remain unaware of the need to stabilize and maintain the subtle energy which is the source of life. The result is that we are running on empty drawing upon limited available resources which are not replenished.

Detail of Watercolor by NW

Until last Saturday at Occupy Brooklyn, I was quite excited about the thinning of the veil, the dimensional barrier separating us from the inner worlds. For a long time I have been hearing about lifting the veil, piercing the veil (of illusion), and lately we find we are living in a time when the veil is ‘thinning,’ as they say. I didn’t see how there could be anything negative about it. My personal experience with seeing beyond the illusion has only been positive, only shown me more ‘light.’

Yet now I am becoming aware how it is important to be ever more diligent in focusing on the light, because not only is more light coming through, but more darkness is free to come through as well. I did not think of this until I attended the large October 5^th Occupy Wall Demonstration. and while the police presence was huge, they were not intimidating as the crowd clearly outnumbered them and the mood was celebratory. (I left shortly after dark and before the violence happened later.)

Then, on a sunny, cloudless Saturday morning, I went to the first Occupy Brooklyn rally which was quite near my house­—how convenient I thought! Yet despite the small numbers, there was an enormous police presence—at least it seemed that way to me. And then they began penning us in, which was a weird experience—as if we were somehow contaminated, and had to be set apart from the general public. But of course I knew that it was really in order that it would be easier to round us all up once we were contained in a small space.

I kept to the fringes. I am an older woman with a slight build and perhaps overly cautious when surrounded by large beefy men in uniform whom I have seen on videos carting away or pepper-spraying innocent unarmed females. Now, I hate admitting this, but I was exhausted for the rest of the day. (I was also exhausted after the October 5^th day, but I had done a lot of walking after all.) It took me a few days to realize the difference between ‘psychic’ exhaustion and physical tiredness. They are not the same at all!

I think most of us know how the Law of Attraction works, in that we attract to ourselves

Detail of Watercolor by NW

whatever we’re focused on. So if I am in fear (doesn’t matter what of) then I will attract to myself the very thing I am fearful of. I know it’s not fair, but that’s how the Universe seems to operate. I do not want to be fearful. I do not want to feel intimidated. I want to feel safe and protected while I am in alignment with the highest good for all. So this will be my new practice. I will notice what is happening around me (that’s common sense), and while I am doing that, I will also be focusing with equal measure on what is going on within me, consciously letting go of fear as I visualize the Emerald Alignment.

My friends at Rainbow Light Foundation are familiar with methods for psychic protection, and will be updating us with more information soon. I look forward to sharing their links with you.

Meanwhile, let me leave you with the words of the founder, Carol Lamb:

Please know that for every individual who stands in Brooklyn, on Wall Street, or in any other city to raise their voice, there are hundreds, thousands worldwide, unseen, who are standing with them in their light bodies, including us! It is this physical and subtle energy which weaves together to create a force-field of light. No opposing energy can stand against a collective energy of peace.  This is how Martin Luther King achieved his objective of course—Heaven was on his side!