Fun and Flooding

It’s good to have friends—one really does need at least a small social life.

Last evening, Luke came to the campsite and brought bratwursts and hamburger and along with Daniel and Mandy, we had a dandy cookout.  All around us were campfires and children playing and adults talking and laughing together at their individual camps.  Even though there was little direct interaction with our neighbors, overall there was a feeling of community.  Daniel even broke out his ukulele and we sang songs for awhile.

The park was full, of course, because of the weekend, and we feel like one of the lucky ones to have a spot because the river is rising and the lower two-thirds of the park is closed and under water.  It’s coming up fast, too.  We noticed a difference yesterday from the time we went into town until the time we got back.  This morning the water is even closer. 

I dreamed that we got flooded in because the water covered the road, but it looks clear for now.  I suspect that the Army Corps of Engineers would evacuate us before that happened!

Today I am working on the formatting for Bartleby: A Scrivener’s Tale for its eBook debut.  Only a few more days, I hope, before I can launch it.  Then its on to the new marketing plan for Psycards 2013, and the search for a salesperson willing to work on commission only. Any takers?  Contact me and we’ll talk.

Some photos of the campground this morning:

And here we are in the row closest to the road, high and dry, with the sound of the trains for company!

June 27: Location and Synchronicity

It was pointed out to me today by a friend that I had not updated the blog with our newest location. And he suggested that I include a map with our location. Thanks, Luke! Feedback helps me improve my blogging skills.

Our location: So, this week (probably until July 3) we will be at Clark’s Ferry Recreation Area in Montpelier, Iowa. We are about twelve miles down river from Davenport on U.S. 22. (Take Rockingham Road out of Davenport, past Buffalo to Montpelier.) Most of the campground is closing because the river is rising and is not expected to crest until Sunday, but we are on the upper portion, next to the railroad tracks. We were lucky enough to get a nicely shaded spot, lot #21.

 Our map:


View Larger Map


Two synchronicities in the past couple of days:

1.  We arrived yesterday and are camped two sites away from the friends we made at Fisherman's Corner:  Daniel and Mandy.  After we set up, I took a nap, and dreamed that the four of us should share a spot to save money.  Later last evening, Rick and Daniel went down to the office and signed us up to share a space. I had not told them of my dream!

2.  This morning, I woke up with the idea that I was going to be getting a lump sum to support Psycards USA.  In my dream it was "ten or twenty thousand."  Around 10 AM, Nick called from London and wants some figures and a marketing plan so he can think about sending a lump sum--maybe $10,000, he said, maybe more.  The lump sum would be for me to use at my discretion to attend fairs, place advertising, and cover operating costs.  Nice.  Now I have renewed hope that I can continue to sustain Psycards USA until we have been main-streamed in the body, mind, spirit market.  Thanks be to my spiritual guides and guardians.  Help me make a worthy showing!

I hope the maps show up properly--I haven't done this before, or if I have, I don't remember how. 

Spirit Dawning

In that twilight zone
That alpha space
Between the dreams and the dawn,
I stretch my arms
Above my head
Hands to elbows
Upon my back.
I feel my crown open
And light floods in,
In that twilight zone
That alpha space.

In that twilight zone
That alpha space
Between the dreaming and the day

I feel my belly vibrate
Down low, the base chakra vibrates
And spinning rainbow spears
Of light begin to twist
A rainbow lightning flash
Between the two
In that twilight zone
That alpha space.

In that twilight zone
That alpha space
Between the dark and dawn

Three columns twist
Rainbow tornadoes
Moving strands of prism'd DNA
And join-ed thus
'Tween crown and base
I wake

From twilight zone
From alpha space.

I was awakened by Spirit this morning with the above experience, and now I am moved to write at dawn.

Last night before sleeping, I was reading The Mystery of Death & Dying: Initiation at the Moment of Death, by Earlyne Chaney.  One of the last things I remember reading before retiring was this:

"Each moment spent in prayer brings some charge, some dynamic power, up the spine to stimulate the chakras...concentrating upon a holy one, such as Lord Jesus or the divine Mary, through a rosary or a meditative chant, balances the positive-negative forces...The head centers of the Third Eye are vitalized and kundalini...is drawn upward through magnetic attraction."

This experience was not the conscious directing of my own will, but an opening beyond my conscious control.  I could see the twisting rainbows, swirling like little benevolent and energetic tornadoes--three of them (though I have no idea what that signifies).

There are four prayers I use often, usually silently.  The Lord's Prayer, because that is one of the first "real" prayers I learned as a child.  The Twenty-Third psalm is the next one.  A sort-of broken version of the Hail Mary, followed by the Jesus Prayer chanted within as long as feels natural.  Nobody realizes when I am doing these prayers--they are between God and me.

So the lesson I take here is that any form of prayer, anytime, brings us closer to the true energy, to healing, to wholeness, to oneness with the Great Creative Divine, even when we are not "striving" for it.  So, pray.  And relax.  Because God has everything under control, including you!

Invisible Americans

No spiritual journey worth its salt is without its trials.  And we’ve had our share so far, with more to come, I’m certain.

But it is also an opportunity to learn about the lives—and the plight—of others.  I met a woman today, who along with her husband lives in a tent.  They are working poor, thirty-somethings—she is a news producer, and was recently fired from her job.  Her husband is a sound man and gifted musician, but as we all know, creative people rarely are able to make a living in our culture, which values money over people and rewards the greedy, while punishing the kind.  The husband also has serious trouble with his back—trouble enough to require surgeries and metal hardware.  But also considered ineligible for disability. 

Two talented and intelligent people, doing what they can to not only survive, but make the world a better place, reduced to living in a tent in the heat and humidity, without medical coverage, but still hoping to build a better life, a better future.

It makes one wonder how many gifted citizens the U.S. overlooks, ignores, and undervalues every day.  How much potential to be a great nation is lost because of the ignorance and greed of the powers-that-be? Americans are wasteful—not only with natural resources and consumer goods, but with people too.  I fear what our national karma may be if we don’t shift our thinking and begin to live with gratitude, selflessness, kindness and compassion. 

Living here in our little RV, with electricity and a computer and a television, makes me deeply grateful that I am not living in a tent.  God bless them in their journeys and if you’re reading this, hold a prayer forth for all the disaffected, disenfranchised Americans whose belief in the American dream has been shattered, that they may find succor and success, and that they have the strength to continue to not only endure, but to hope.

A Summer Birthday

Yesterday was Rick's 51st birthday and we had a lovely day, free from anxiety for the first time in weeks. The beginning of the month is always the easiest and we happily paid the storage and the car payment.  We went out for breakfast to a nice little restaurant here in Hampton, Illinois, where we are parked at Fisherman's Corner Campground, just south of Interstate 80, right on the Mississippi River.  As we drove back to the campground, we passed Illiniwek Park and stopped to walk part of the trail to the scenic overlook. Although we didn't make it far, a little walking is better than none.

Later, Rick ran errands and I putzed around the RV, doing little things and just enjoying the morning.  In the afternoon, we went to the grocery store, visited my daughter Mary Ellen who was working there, and stopped at the Goodwill to pick up a few needed things.  We purchased a small crockpot and a griddle ($6 each) to have a wider variety of cooking methods than just the microwave.  We figured it was less expensive than filling the propane tank (approximately $50), and less expensive than eating at fast-food restaurants.  I was in need of some new pants, as my old ones are shredding at the waistband, and because most of them are getting to be too big and they are constantly threatening to fall down.  I've lost about 25 pounds since we began our adventure and I was tickled to be able to shop for pants.  I found a pair of jeans--real jeans, not fat-girl, elastic-waisted jeans--but jeans that fit perfectly.  Tight across the bottom, straight-legs and just the right length (short). I haven't looked that good in a pair of pants in years, and I was thrilled!  I found some other very nice pants to wear for the shows and such, two in summer colors (yellow and pink) and two year-round colors (black and navy blue). As a splurge, I bought a pretty embroidered v-neck t-shirt for the full price of $3.85.  The others I got half-off (green tag day). 

When we returned to the campground, there was a big turtle in the road!  There's that turtle medicine again. 

Because it was Rick's birthday, we went into Port Byron and visited two of the taverns there, where Rick was gifted his birthday drinks (many taverns will buy you a drink on your birthday).  We visited with some very nice folks, chatted about the town, with Rick cutting up and playing stand-up comic.  It was genuinely fun and we were happy to come home at nine and watch a video.

We discovered that instead of renting videos, we can check them out of the library.  This gives us a week to watch them and no charge!  I like it because I can get documentaries. Without a satellite dish, we have few options for television viewing--depending on the campsite, we may get as many as ten channels, or as few as none!  Fisherman's Corner is one of those where we are lucky if we get two or three, but sometimes we don't get anything at all. 

Today, I have to clean and rearrange our "kitchen" and figure out how to best set up and store the crockpot and griddle.  This morning I am writing, finished up a book review (http://www.cattfoy.com/beaucoup-reviews.html), and generally enjoying our unseasonably mild summer weather!  What a relief after the spring we've had.

Photos from Fisherman's Corner:

Frowning tree

Hoary old grandfather tree

Indian grass in bloom

Lead plant in bloom

Lock and Dam 14 from Fisherman's Corner

Mushrooms

 

Different mushrooms

Rick reminds me of a Bigfoot.

Pelicans on the Mississippi

Happy Birthday, Rick!

Sunrise at Fisherman's Corner

Turtle

Face to face with turtle

Wild strawberry

White asters

Dead tree trunk

More fungi

Saylorville

After the busy weekend in Des Moines, we camped Sunday night at Saylorville Lake.  The campsite is situated just below Saylorville dam, near the spillway for the Des Moines River.  Early Monday morning I woke to a fog-covered landscape, with a preternatural dawn shining through.

I went for what has become my regular morning walk.  I was anxious to see the spillway, because the evening before, we had driven past it and the churning water was breathtaking.  There was no one else about, as it was about 5:30 AM.  Here are some of the photos I obtained.

This path leads up the berm of the dam to the roadway above, and the lake beyond.

Mist rises from the spillway, stained pink in the morning light.

I walked toward the spillway, entranced by the moving water and its power.

The river is a morning fog machine.

Churning water in the spillway mouth.

I climbed up the road to the bridge over the spillway and looked down into the churning maw.  The power of the water was overwhelming, terrifying.  I could literally feel the violence of its energy.  I stood and imagined what it must be like to be hit with such a force and thought of the tsunamis of recent years and how frightening it must have been to witness them.  The water itself was dangerous--I couldn't imagine what it must be like filled with dangerous debris.  And then I realized that I was looking at only a tiny microcosm of what such events must be like and I felt very small, very humbled.  And I realized that the fear I was feeling could truly be considered the Fear of God!

I walked down alongside the spillway and photographed it as it emptied into the Des Moines River.  I could see the Des Moines skyline in the distance.

I walked along the river a little way, then turned and circled the campground.  From the intensity of the water to the quiet serenity of the misty morning, I experienced a sense of peace and oneness with the Universe.

Our happy little wheeled home at Bob Shetler Campground on Saylorville Lake, Iowa.

The birds were fully awake and lively now and I was inspired to write this poem:

The Birds Nearby, at Saylorville Lake

By Catt Foy

Bright yellow finches and flashy orange orioles

The distant tiny hammering of a woodpecker. 

Strutting robins alertly seeking worms

The mingled songs of birds unseen

Cardinal and bluejay, a patriotic pair

In the distance, the cry of the crow.

Eagle and hawk keeping sky-watch

While a turkey vulture skulks about for breakfast.

Mr. Robin’s bright breast catches the dawning light

As he sings me his morning serenade.

Embracing the Woo-Woo

WHAT IS “EMBRACE THE WOO-WOO?”

“Embrace the woo-woo” is a rallying cry for all people who seek to pursue any one or more of a wide variety of spiritual practices to inform the world-at-large that we deserve the same respect as any practitioner of a more “traditional” or “formal” religious path.

For decades, the term “woo-woo” has been used in a derogatory way to put down, belittle, and mock those who dare to embrace new ways of accepting, experiencing and understanding their personal relationship with the Divine Universe.

Just as the homosexual community abrogated the term “gay” and made it their own rallying cry, so “woo-woo” has become ours. 

Join with us—come out of your broom closet, so to speak—and embrace the woo-woo.

Who should embrace the woo-woo?

·        Wiccans

·        Astrologers

·        Druids

·        Shamans

·        Neo-shamans

·        Neo-pagans

·        New Agers

·        Psychics

·        Mediums

·        Spiritual healers

·        Anyone who believes that a direct experience with the Divine is sufficient to constitute a valid religious and spiritual practice.

You can join by signing up for our mailing list, by following our blog, or simply by being more open and honest about your personal spiritual  experiences!  Or you can buy a bumper sticker!

Let people know that you are not ashamed of your spiritual practice.  We encourage you to not hide your true beliefs.  The witch-burnings are over.  Freedom of religion is a fundamental right in the United States—don’t let others abridge that right for you!

Explain your beliefs and practices honestly and openly, and let others know that your expect the same respect as those who to adhere to Catholicism, born-again Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Sikhism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and the myriad of other religious practices the world over. 

The bottom line is this:  we are all seeking God, or the idea of God in our own ways.  None of us can be absolutely certain that our way is the best way for anyone but  ourselves.

Speak openly about spiritual experiences:  prophetic dreams, visitations from the other side, psychic flashes, psychokinetic events (things moving seemingly without human contact), past-life memories, and the thousands of other ways that we experience the greater reality. 

2012 has passed and we have now entered into the New Age many of us have long awaited.  Share your knowledge, share your life experience for many are seeking, many are ready to understand.  In sharing these personal truths, we empower others to embrace theirs—and it might lead to great and powerful change in the world

Turtle, Buffalo, Opossum

Opossum

by Cie Simurro

(aka Thunderbird Starwoman)

"My children, I keep my nose to the ground, always sniffing out something that will aid you in your journey onward. I myself travel a great deal. The subject of vacation never comes up for I consider my entire life a vacation. I go where I will, when I wish, how I desire, and except for roads, which are a danger, I move about freely without undue caution.
"I AM OPOSSUM. I bring this message from all of my kinfolk to all of you: IT'S GOOD TO HANG UPSIDE DOWN IN TREES! The world looks completely different from that perspective, it might be advantageous to turn things upside down a bit, shake them and move in a different direction.
"… among my people, my sense of humor is legendary. Are you not aware that I am continuously grinning, especially when laying low - you call it playing 'possum'; rolling over; playing dead. These are merely diversions so that the predators of the world will not consider me of interest or a challenge. I suggest that you imitate my strategy when danger is upon you. I will help you attain long life, for the one who tries to forestall a fight, rather than battling his way through, will live longer - less stress - and of course, there is always the more accomplished opponent. Have a happy life. Viva l'opossum!"

Such a rich emotional and spiritual day—this Saturday at the Iowa Metaphysical Fair.  First, a run of deep and clear readings and the wonderful energies of the women requesting them.  Most of them got full readings—a blessing for us. 

Then a visit from a Mandan medicine man (waxikena), who apparently knew me, read my book and “couldn’t wait” to meet me.  He entered my booth, sat down and began signing a book—a book I had noticed earlier at another booth, but was too busy to stop and examine—but it HAD caught my eye.  His book.

Cedric Red Feather.  Turtle priest (Rick and I had seen a turtle on the middle of the road near West Lake the other day—an unusual sight).

I was honored deeply by his visit.  He radiated such gentle love and I was fascinated.  He told me about the prophecy of the return of the Seven Brothers—and he is the seventh. We talked of the White Buffalo Calf Woman—the white buffalo of Janesville, Wisconsin, whom I have seen.  And the man at the very windy rest stop who saw the signs on the RV, and my big Indian husband, and ended up giving Rick six beautifully wrapped bundles of White Buffalo Sage! 

Then, Cedric invited me (I assume Rick and me, because he had already revealed that he had met Rick at the “smokers” door) to a ceremony on July 20 in Minnesota, a ceremony to help facilitate the renewal of the return of the Indian people’s ceremonies, and stories and ways.  I didn’t get the entire gist of it, but spiritually it felt important—not just to the Mandans, but to everyone, every spiritual seeker in the world.  It is the fulfillment of a prophecy!  And yet Cedric sought me out to invite me to participate.  Not just a you-can-come-if-you-want sort of invitation, but a “we would very much like you to participate.”  Something powerful is afoot and I feel we must attend; it is of true spiritual importance.

Then, around lunch time, after many more readings, and sales, I was walking past the dining area, and I saw Cedric with the first three readings I had and suddenly I felt as though I was looking at angels—my angels—come to check me, to make sure I was ready.  Ready for what?  I don’t know, but I think I passed muster. 

It reminded me of the day of the Angels in the Desert. A story that, if I haven’t posted it already, then I certainly will soon.  That and the White Buffalo visit. 

Oh, yeah, and then back at the campsite, I went to the bathrooms and when I came out, standing in the doorway was a young opossum.  Turtle, Buffalo, Opossum.  Hmmm.