IMPORTANT PSA

Covid-19 Silver Lining & Self-Work

My friend posted the following opinion piece to social media. I'm copying and pasting it here and also will provide a link:

What Psychedelics Told Me About The Coronavirus

Azrya Cohen Bequer

 

An Empowering Message to Humanity from Ayahuasca

 

 

No matter how complex a question I may have, when I take it to psychedelics I always receive an answer. So when the Coronavirus pandemic kicked into high gear, I brought the subject to my trusted mentor Ayahuasca to be illuminated.

Ayahuasca is an ancient shamanic plant medicine technology, consisting of 3 simple ingredients: a vine, a leaf and water. The ensuing brew is consumed in a ceremonial context, and commonly referred to as “the medicine.”

In the visionary state, downloads around COVID-19 began pouring in and it all began with the humble teachings of a tiny little insect known as the caterpillar.

Did you know that a caterpillar will consume up to 300 times its body weight per day before entering the cocoon?

I share this fun fact because, as the medicine showed me, we have reached a moment in our human evolution where the clumsy, dense, survival obsessed caterpillar stage of our collective human consciousness must finally stop mindlessly consuming and surrender to the chrysalis, in which everything it has known itself to be dissolves into mush.

Welcome to the “Corona Cocoon.”

Yup. We are in the disintegration stage now where all the magic happens and the next chapter of our human experience can transition into the era of the butterfly; a being that is light, free, empirically exquisite and in service to others (pollinators).

Let me illuminate how this is far more than a nifty metaphor.

Times of crisis bring a tremendous opportunity because there is a “pattern interrupt” to our collective, habitual ways of operating, most of which are heavily anchored in excessive consumerism, distraction and a relationship to productivity so unsustainable it has become violent, both to our own minds, bodies and spirits, as well as to the mind, body and spirit of our Earth. Which is — surprise surprise — a sentient being as well and has its own consciousness.

 

The Coronavirus is the great equalizer.

As the pause button on the rat race is pressed and so many things we take for granted suddenly withheld, the opportunity in the apocalypse reveals itself to those who are willing to detach from the panic enough to actually listen to a deeper truth that is emerging from the wreckage.

Before I dive into what that truth is for me (and of course, this is all my perception and by no means empirical fact), I must first share the fundamental framework of my lens on reality, so the following statements have context.

In the arena of personal development — an industry which I am very much a part of — there is a term called “shadow work” that is very important to understand.

SHADOW WORK

The baseline world view here is that everything in our reality exists because of a complex interplay between light and shadow, thus creating a vast field of polarity in which consciousness can manifest itself. Through an esoteric lens this interplay is captured by the Ying Yang symbol, which exemplifies that each polarity contains within it a speck of its opposite. From a quantum physics perspective we can explain the same phenomenon through the language of vibration, of frequency. We can measure the amount of light particles contained within each frequency. The “lighter” or “higher” the frequency, the faster the oscillation, the more information or light is contained within it. The “darker” or “denser” the frequency, the slower the oscillation, the less light is contained within it.

While we in our culture have generally deemed the light to be “good” and the shadow “evil” (just watch any Hollywood movie ever, it’s always about “good vs evil”), neither are actually superior or inferior, they are simply expressions of duality itself and give birth to the very nature of our human existence. Yet our judgment of these forces — which exist on the macro-level of the Universe as well the micro-level within each individual human being — has condemned the shadow to such a degree that it has become repressed, and therefore dangerous — for any force that is repressed long enough will eventually erupt — like a geyser under pressure — with equal intensity to restore balance.

“Shadow work” is the voluntary examination of one’s own internal darkness, or — to put it in more psychological terms — the excavation of our subconscious — which lacks the light of our conscious awareness and is therefore hidden from view.

Most human beings on the planet have no concept of “shadow work,” and even those who do may not have the courage to voluntarily look into the dark crevices of their own psyche. Repressed traumas, inherited fear programs, undigested pain and all sorts of other disturbing and uncomfortable revelations lie buried there, represented by the metaphorical “boogie man” of our collective human unconsciousness.

And yet — no matter how much we ignore, reject and deny the shadow — it never disappears. In fact, quite the opposite is true. The very fear that keeps us from looking at it, is the same fear that feeds it.

I believe, times like these are a collective wake up call to actively participate in our shadow work or be swept away by the darkness once and for all.

The Coronavirus is simply the trigger to force us into being with what has been there all along. As a wave of fear permeates the collective, the shadow we’ve repressed for generations can no longer be ignored. Until right now, we didn’t have external circumstances dire enough to bring it to the surface. And now that it’s here, we stand at a crossroads.

THIS IS A CHOICE POINT MOMENT OF EPIC PROPORTION.

Every time I participate in a psychedelic experience — and especially when working with Ayahuasca — I am confronted with the same question:

Do I succumb to the current operating system of “victim consciousness”? Or do I claim my “creator consciousness”?

VICTIM CONSCIOUSNESS says, “I have no or very little personal power. I am at the whim of my external reality and things are happening to me beyond my control. My fear based Ego must cling to any semblance of control it can find in order to ensure its survival, and fight for that control at all costs. I project blame externally, refusing to take responsibility for my reality.”

CREATOR CONSCIOUSNESS says, “I am infinitely powerful, precisely because I am ready to relinquish my false sense of control and trust in the greater intelligence of life (and death) itself. Everything I experience — pleasant or not — is a result of some form of conscious or subconscious co-creation. It is through taking full responsibility for my experience that I liberate myself from victimhood.”

Truly, at this stage of the game each individual human being is confronted with the decision of which operating system to run. One is based in fear, the other in love.

Whatever narrative we choose to focus on moving forward will significantly impact the quality of our human life moving forward. What a ripe opportunity for massive transformation! The stakes have never been this high.

Congratulations everyone. We are officially in the cocoon.

Before I illuminate both the gifts of LIGHT and the gifts of SHADOW available within the “Corona Cocoon,” I want to say to anyone who has had a loved one transition due to the Coronavirus, my heart goes out to you. I sincerely hope that my perspectives on the situation don’t in any way demean the pain of your loss. I also recognize that it may feel almost impossible for many reading this to understand how this devastating event could have a major silver lining, and that’s okay. I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything.

My intention is solely to share my perspective in order to support you in making an internal choice that can have a lasting impact far beyond this pandemic — which could end up being the most profoundly valuable thing that has ever happened to you in your life. Again, it’s all up to you to decide what you do with the information.

THE REALITY OF DEATH

Currently, Earth is activating her defense mechanisms and — like a stern mother — putting our insolent asses in time out, so we may come face to face with the very thing we have been avoiding for so long: Our mortality. This is also known as “being grounded.”

I’m not just talking about being forced to confront the inevitable death of our physical bodies, but also the death of our comfort zones, the death of our false sense of security in regards to finances, food supply, health care, government and international affairs.

Death is really — at its core — the fear of the unknown. This is why those who are doing authentic spiritual work are going to be less affected by a crisis like the Coronavirus. If you’ve experienced yourself beyond the physical dimension and connected to the infinite aspect of your consciousness that will continue to exist long after your body has deceased, there is no reason to fear death.

The Coronavirus — an “invisible” threat — confronts us with our relationship to the spiritual realms, which we cannot navigate with our five senses.

Every time we open our Amazon boxes to pull out the next bulk order of toilet paper while wondering if the cardboard is contaminated, we are quietly confronted with the mystery of the invisible, unknown nature of reality.

Examining our mortality is also an access point into more deeply understanding the biologically ingrained survival mechanisms that run so much of our day to day lives. Truth is, the vast majority of humans — regardless of income bracket — do not feel safe and secure in the world, and are plagued by anxiety and stress because of it.

Isn’t it amazing that death — an initiation every single human being must face eventually — is so taboo in our culture? No wonder we ignore and suppress this fact, when nothing in our modern education systems addresses the subject even in the slightest to prepare us for it. Indigenous cultures create elaborate rites of passage for their youth to confront and even embrace the reality of death, so they may be free from the fear of it. Rituals around death were and are commonplace, necessary initiations in ancient cultures. We have lost these ways. Today, our fear of death has tampon commercials showing period blood as blue instead of red, so we don’t have to face the truth. We can’t even connect to the death of the animals we consume in such copious quantities. Meat products are neatly shrink wrapped and disguised with names like “hot dogs” and “burgers” so we don’t have to think about the reality of the sacrifices we so casually pull off the grocery shelf while scrolling through our instagram feed. There is no more tangible connection to the cycles of life and death that occur in the natural world, and that connection is now ready to re-awaken, bringing with it the hard yet sweet realization that:

Nothing is guaranteed.

When we truly embrace the truth that we are all going to die, that life is a profound gift and each breath is a privilege — every moment becomes infinitely precious.

THE PURGE

In the ancient, shamanic healing tradition of Ayahuasca the purge is a very sacred and crucial component to “getting well.” Fighting the purge is hell. Relaxing into the purge, truly surrendering to it, that is the medicine.

It’s easy to forget, but we have some pretty serious traumas in our very recent history. Just in the last 100 years we had two world wars, the cold war, the Vietnam war and 9/11 (plus all the other violence, environmental distress and genocide going on in the world today). Until very recently when science began the study of epigenetics, we have had very little understanding of how trauma can be passed down from generation to generation and how it manifests itself as disease in the body if left unaddressed for too long. Epidemics like the Coronavirus are a very serious invitation for us to look at the emotional material that is surfacing as more and more “war like” conditions surround us (borders closing, mandatory quarantines, the potential of martial law, etc.). My German grandmother — a WWII survivor — never had the opportunity to consciously process the trauma of her experience which means that if we believe energy is neither created nor destroyed, only transformed — either my mother, myself or my children will eventually have to consciously transform that energy and break the chain.

I see trauma as a zip file of information, which contains valuable lessons within it. Unpacking it might feel like trying to diffuse a very dangerous bomb, but if I can truly trust that the trauma is here to serve a greater purpose and my only job is to be brave enough to really feel it fully once and for all, the suffering disappears and only gifts remain. I believe the remnants of the collective trauma that we’ve acquired in our human history is now ready to be purged and transmuted, and so it makes sense that we would subconsciously evoke conditions similar to those that created the trauma in the first place. Only this time, instead of having to go to the front lines and fight in battle, we get to do the inner work in the comfort of our own homes.

SCARCITY & MONEY

Now is the time to look at our fears and especially our scarcity programs. The “not enough” conversations that are happening externally in the form of “not enough toilet paper,” “not enough supplies,” “not enough income,” “not enough hospital beds,” “not enough flights” are an amplified reflection of our incessant, internal scarcity conversation that keep so many of us locked into the rat race of our modern lifestyles.

“The world is caught up with the non‐essential, and yet it yearns for the essential.” — Richard Rudd

There’s a massive reset button being pushed on the financial system right now and it is a huge opportunity to come into greater integrity with how we generate revenue. Yes, the Coronavirus will have a devastating impact on small and large businesses, as millions of people are laid off due to the government ordered shut down, AND — using the example given in a recent Wall Street Journal article of “…the entrepreneur who invested his life in his Memphis ribs joint only to see his customers vanish in a week…” — there was a hidden, denied truth in that business that can no longer be ignored, which is the quality of life of the animals whose ribs are being consumed for profit in the first place.

I am not vegan, nor do I believe humans should never eat animals, but I do believe that the lack of awareness, consideration and empathy for the quality of life (and death) of the animals we consume requires serious and immediate attention, and anyone who is not actively participating in the conversation of humane treatment and sustainability while making money off of meat or any other natural resources, will eventually be forced to do so. Obviously not all businesses require the death of living things, but most businesses exist to sell “inessentials,” aka “shit we don’t need” — and so in this purge, I see a tremendous extinction of the nonessential sweeping across our economy. How many shipping containers full of products to stock malls and Amazon warehouse shelves are truly enriching our human experience? This may be a very unpopular opinion, but if a business dies because of the Coronavirus, there is a very real possibility that:

A) It wasn’t truly providing essential value in the first place.

B) The value it was providing had an unacceptable cost to it (which was being paid for by the Earth itself), and / or…

C) The time for a new, potentially more omni-considerate creative idea is ready to express itself through those involved in that business, and it’s time to innovate and move on.

This topic of sustainability also ties back into the scarcity conversation, because if whatever job or venture we are accustomed to making a living from suddenly disappears, perhaps it’s because a deeper purpose for our unique skills, gifts and talents wants to emerge and only a scarcity mindset would insist on seeing the disappearance of one opportunity as a dead end, when in truth there are infinite ways in which each individual can reinvent themselves. So many people work just for a paycheck without ever stopping and asking “what value can I contribute to the world that nourishes my soul in exchange? What is actually my Full Fuck Yes?” This is the time to ask those questions, for finally the distractions are removed enough for us to begin receiving an answer.

Will it be easy? Likely not, although anything is possible.

Will it happen overnight? No. True change takes time, repetition and dedication. But a very real quantum leap can happen in the next few weeks and months, and with the internet, there is no shortage of guidance, education and tools available to anchor in a permanent, internal shift.

This is also a time where we might see unprecedented acts of generosity and kindness amongst humans. Unlike all the other pandemics we’ve seen so far, we are all in this one together. The opportunity for the global human family to show up for each other right now is huge, and the joy of both asking for as well as receiving support is available everywhere we turn.

MAKE D.O.P.E ART

My mother and I were talking about how the Coronavirus might affect arts and culture, which many would argue are “inessential” to human survival and were wiped out in Germany during WWII. The big difference today is technology. All you need to plug into a vibrant, abundant buffet of creativity is an internet connection and a smartphone, and within seconds you can share your voice and tune into the hearts and minds of the 3.5 billion human beings who are online in 2020.

Human survival isn’t just the physical component, we must nourish our emotional, mental and spiritual bodies as well, and right now technology is our ally in that because it doesn’t adhere to borders, boundaries and “shelter in place” laws. I see the Coronavirus unleashing a creative supernova of new ideas, visions and voices as we start claiming our capacity to Make D.O.P.E (Daring, Original, Personal, Expression) Art, which can manifest itself as anything from writing an epic love song to incubating a sustainable business to rearranging your pantry to reflect back to you a healthier mindset.

Our contributions to the collective narrative can either be saturated with fear, or drenched in compassion and optimism.

Coming full circle back to the beginning of this article, now is the time to choose which operating system you will run.

If you do decide to opt out of the victim consciousness and claim your creator consciousness, know that you are signing up for a deep, spiritual journey into the depths of yourself. The process begins with intention. The intention to truly know yourself. To be with all aspects of yourself, no matter how unpleasant some of them might feel. We will require community and guidance on this journey, even though at the end of the day, no one can do the work for us. I have compiled a list of free resources that have been incredibly supportive on my journey for you to tangibly begin this process, you can find them here: www.The-FFY.com/resources

The profound gift in all of this? You have been given the opportunity to see how powerful your lens on reality truly is. How much it impacts your experience. How deeply it affects the quality of your life, and the well being of the planet itself.

In times like these, new innovations emerge and you can contribute — right now, from the comfort of your couch — to a brighter future for generations to come, simply by consciously choosing to look within.

Stop looking for the answer. BE the answer.

Love,

Azrya

Find me on instagram @thefullfuckyes and @iazrya

I read this above work aloud to my husband, who I felt, like me, needed to receive these important, truthful messages. Moments after I finished reading, a text arrived from my energist. She moved to Manhattan last summer, and her synchronistic outreach was for the purpose of encouraging her tribe to "use this time as an opportunity for self-work." She continued to state: "So many people I know are successfully clearing their past for a new future and are coming out ahead. To help you, here is a free 10 minute meditation:"

https://youtu.be/JbwabrfEyto

Original Quote

"The more disconnected we are from nature, the less we understand about ourselves." -B.W. Davis

What is happening to our skies?

Encounters & Dreams

On the thirteenth of August this year, I had a close encounter of an enchanting kind. Nightfall was just starting to set in, which means around 9:00 p.m. during Pacific Northwest late summers (and much later in late spring). I was out front of my home setting up the sprinkler when a flying object from the west caught my eye. It was large and gray with an enormous wingspan. The specter made a sudden two-point landing on the electrical service line across the lawn from where I was standing.

My sense was to remain still. I didn't want to startle this amazing creature. Or perhaps it was me preferring to not be startled by this amazing creature. My next inclination was to have my husband see it. On rare occasions in the middle of the night we hear owls calling out from the woods behind our home. We've never actually seen one incarnate.

I slowly reached for the phone in my front pocket. As I started to dial the owl leaped from its perch and swooped down onto the lawn where it stood about eight feet from me, wings partially extended at its sides. I couldn't believe it. Indeed it was an owl, a very big owl, about the size of a human toddler.

My husband answered just as the owl took flight again. I could make out even in the darkness it landed in one of the two trees at the end of our front walk. In a whispered voice I told my husband about the owl and to come join me for viewing. Moments later he was gingerly opening our front door and sat beside me on our front stoop. I explained where I had last seen the owl. Suddenly the silhouette of a youngster riding a bike appeared on the street at the end of our driveway, not something we usually see at night. The bicyclist turned around and then vanished down the street. Just as they were turning around, the owl once more leaped out from its perch. We both watched as it flew from the tree over our carport before it, too, disappeared between ours and the neighbor's house to the north.

My only other close encounter with an owl was in Texas. My dad, mom and I were driving home one night. We were about a quarter mile or so from our street when the loudest sounding collision you could imagine struck our windshield, shattering the center third of it. We hit an owl or an owl hit us. The three of us screamed. I believe we were all of course scared out of our wits because of the sudden violence and on a deeper level because it was an owl.

The ancient Greeks revered the goddess Athena, who was supposed to be the goddess of wisdom and guardian of the Acropolis. Her symbol was the owl, so the bird became a symbol of higher wisdom. The owl was a bird of prophecy and wisdom in many ancient cultures.

I like to think my owl encounter is a good omen.

On Sun. 8/27 I dreamed I had a very odd looking spider on my right shoulder. It was elongated, kind of like an ant, but it was definitely an eight-legged spider. A black one. It bore into my skin with its legs. In my dream I don't know how long it had been on/in me. I flicked it off and once it was free from my flesh I noticed it had left behind crimson marks in the shape of a dog bite.

The next morning after I awoke, I was rinsing dishes and loading them in the dishwasher. I pulled the cutting board from the sink to give it a scrub and suddenly noticed a big, black spider at the base of my left thumb. I threw the cutting board and shook my hand. It fell to the floor and disappeared. I was almost more startled because my dream from the night before was still fresh in my mind.

Dream interpretation: To dream of a spider denotes that you will be careful and energetic in your labors, and fortune will be amassed to pleasing proportions. If one bites you, you will be the victim of unfaithfulness and will suffer from enemies in your business.

Another suggests little annoying or irritating things that are left undone. Can be a fear of gossipy things said about you - or the consequences of gossip you engaged in regarding someone else.

Yet another suggests it can symbolize feeling trapped in a stale or unsatisfying relationship. To dream that you are bitten by a spider represents conflict with your mother or some dominant female figure in your life.

Still another suggests it indicates that you are feeling like an outsider in some situation. Or that you may want to keep your distance and stay away from an alluring and tempting situation. The spider is also symbolic of feminine power. The dream may be a metaphor for a devouring mother or the feminine power to possess and entrap. Perhaps you are feeling trapped by some relationship. Alternately, a spider may refer to a powerful force protecting you against your self-destructive behavior. Spiders are a symbol of creativity due to the intricate webs they spin. On a negative note, spiders indicate a feeling of being entangled or trapped in a sticky or clingy relationship. It represents some ensnaring and controlling force. You may feel that someone or some situation is sucking the life right out of you.

On Mon. 8/28 I had a dream with raccoons in it. I'm foggy on the details. After I awoke the first text I received was from my bestie, who sent me a picture of a raccoon at her bedroom window and a note declaring this guy and his friends kept her up until 3:00 a.m. 

Dream interpretation: To dream of a raccoon denotes you are being deceived by the friendly appearance of enemies. Also, the raccoon has stood for deception and mischief, and thievery down through the ages because of his mask and his nocturnal ways. It shows that people are presenting false faces to you in your everyday life.

Partial Solar Eclipse

Dim eclipsed-sunlight filtering through tree leaves cast cloud-like shadows on our driveway.

One of the first social media posts I read today was from a gal who I know through the Lyme community. She wanted to know whether fellow patients were experiencing anything unusual on account of the solar eclipse. Comments included: "I feel like I'm on a wild ride;" "intense;" "overwhelmed;" "I feel like my normal self;" "jittery, anxious;" "weird head pressure;" "migraine;" "teared up from intense neuro symptoms;" "no difference."

Upon waking I like to meditate, and today I did so for 20 minutes. I just sit up in bed, cross-legged with my hands folded Buddhist style in my lap, and set my watch to ring the alarm when it's time. My field of close-eyed vision was calm. You know when your eyes are closed it's not completely 100% dark, even on the most pitch black of nights. It's more like you're trying to watch a TV broadcast of a channel that doesn't exist or there's no reception for. For me I perceive a field of fine static fuzziness comprised of very small, fine dots.

I have an opening mantra I repeat a few times in my mind's eye. Then I watch my breath and request communion with the greater power. I ask it to be present along with providing harmony and healing. This morning's meditation was overall good with moments of clarity and inner peace in the middle and right at the very end before my watch began beeping its alarm.

We took in today's partial eclipse (92.5% coverage) at our private community beach called the Cove. We arrived a little before 10:00 a.m. Pacific. Our original plan was to join the viewing party at the Des Moines library, which was going to be handing out solar glasses until they ran out. On the way there Mt. Rainier was encircled in marine layer; mystical and spectacular.

The library had ran out by the time we got there. We turned down the hill toward the water and thought perhaps the pier at the marina would make for a good spot. That's when we noticed the fog rolling in. We changed course again and returned to our neighborhood's waterfront.

The fog bank had rolled all the way north from Des Moines. Another fog bank rolled in from the west and hugged the coast a little ways out into the water. The shoreline was as wide, if not wider, than I've ever seen it with an extremely low tide. Another fog bank was threatening to crest the hillside from the north of us. The view east remained clear as well as within a quarter mile radius around our location on the beach. We were literally wreathed by a fog belt, which was eerie and beautifully surreal.

At one point my husband pointed out the fading light. I removed my sunglasses to scan the landscape, which was cast in an early dusk dimness. Ducks flew in groups westward out to the water from the lagoon east of our location.

The air was cool and as the sun's light faded the air became noticeably cooler. I felt really anxious while we were there, and as the light lowered I felt physically heavier, like the force of gravity had slightly intensified.

The apex of the eclipse occurred around 10:21 a.m. Pacific. A short while after the apex, two large cranes soared overhead. A flock of birds, crows, ducks and others, flew back to shore out of the fog bank. Then a bald eagle began circling overhead. Amazing.

We left the beach about 10 min. later and drove back home. On arrival the broad daylight still appeared strained. I grappled with whether it was the way I was perceiving the light, readjusting after having been out on the open shoreline. Our home is in a more wooded setting.

My anxiousness had me questioning whether I had injured my eyes. I am the very last person who needs to add insult to his already long list of medical ailments; past and present.

My husband wanted to know what I wanted to do with our day. My body temperature was still feeling low. I was chilled, shivering and imagined that may have been contributing to my anxious feeling. I suggested we crawl back into bed to warm ourselves and so we did.

I was still restless, so my husband suggested I do a 10 min. meditation to bring myself back to center. So I did. This particular meditation was very different from earlier. At first my field of closed eye vision was super agitated. The fuzz was moving around aimlessly and rapidly. I took it in and sat with it, and then things calmed. I even felt a moment of divine stillness. My soul overall felt restless. The world feels restless, and it is. It's more important for us all now to find stillness and peace.

Waiting for the eclipse B&T selfie portrait.

Very low tide.

Northwestern fog bank

South, southwestern fog bank.

North fog bank.

Two cranes.

Bald eagle.

Summer of Fire: Seattle breaks dry spell record

This video shows an animated graph of warm weather trends from the time of the industrial revolution until today.

Seattle is a vital part of my world view, it's what I've known for the better part of 36 years, so I can confidently share from this perspective. When my family moved to the area in August 1981, a heat wave ushered in our first week with daytime high temperatures up to 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Coming from Richmond, Virginia's humid summers, the heat was something we were accustomed to. Even without the east coast humidity, having no air conditioning in our rental house was just plain miserable.

Until recently, summer began in the Seattle area like clockwork. Either right on, the day before or the day after July 4 is when we would begin consistently having daytime temperatures above 70 degrees. In the years 2014, 2015 and 2016, the warm weather began continuously as early as mid to late April. Typically Western Washington's Junes are cool, a little drizzly and gloomy. Not so for the aforementioned years. This year (2017) we received record precipitation, especially snow in the mountains, and our warm weather started more typically in July. The spring was much colder than usual and June wasn't quite back to its normal "Junuary" pattern.

We're now week two into a moderate heatwave, which wouldn't be so bad except less than 15 percent of locals have air conditioning and the air is now too unhealthy to open windows. Our poor air quality is on account of massive fires burning in the Canadian province of British Columbia, our neighbor directly north. Of course it's also wildfire season in the Pacific Northwest including my home state of Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana.

I recall wildfire smoke in the Puget Sound Region two years ago this month, and it was nowhere near as severe and much shorter lived than what we're currently experiencing. The air quality has at times been poorer than in Beijing, which is notorious for heavy and dangerously toxic levels of smog.

On August 8, Seattle broke an all-time record for the most consecutive days without precipitation (51 previously). We are now on day 53 and counting, and thankfully rain is in the forecast for Sunday. It cannot come soon enough.

Since middle to late last week I have been holed up in my house mostly. I've made a few trips out of the house, each time causing me respiratory distress; breath shortness, throat irritation, sinus congestion, headache. As part of my complex chronic illness symptoms associated with Lyme and co-infections, I had already been grappling with intermittent breath shortness since spring 2013. The week before the smoke arrived I was actually really beginning to feel so much better. That progress has been reversed, unfortunately.

Here are some images for the record:

Data from the nearest state air quality monitor for this afternoon.

An average, sunny day in Beijing, China.

Downtown Seattle, Washington (13.9 miles north of my home)

We're choking on smoke here in Seattle, and don't just take my word for it: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/09/opinion/smoke-heat-seattle-climate.html

Downtown Tacoma, Washington (22.6 miles south of my home)

Current and forecast weather conditions displayed this afternoon on my iPhone weather app. Relief is on the way this weekend.

Unexplained: An Intelligent Reptilian 'Humanoid'?

X-rays of these small bodies from the tomb in Nazca raise new and interesting questions ...

Nature's Music

What do tree rings sound like when played like a record? 

 

What do birds on wires sound like when played by instruments?

BedFest 2017

It's not too late for an art submission to BedFest: http://www.meaction.net/bedfest/

As someone who has struggled with chronic illness for 4.5 years, I was moved to tears by this short music video. How does one not mourn the vibrant parts of one's self that have been lost to disease? I hope this inspires you as much as it has inspired me ...

LOVE

No Win Situation

When I think of writing about myself, I have often been inclined to cast my husband as the antagonist. In fact, I am pretty sure the reader would most dislike his real life character based on how his behavior and actions are reported in objective reality. That in and of itself should say something, shouldn't it?

I've been sick with Lyme and a couple co-infections for about four and a half years now. My husband has known me since long before illness, during a time when I felt unstoppable. My life was so full then of fun, friends, going out on the town, being active; brimming over with vitality. Most days now all I have the bandwidth for is work and rest.

I used to be angry about being chronically ill. My disease has taken so much from me. Enjoyment in simple things I once took for granted; like eating complex foods at some glam restaurant. The most painful things ripped from me; friends. While loss is often painful, it can also be cleansing. I make an effort to find gratitude in the things and once important people who have fallen by the wayside. If something is meant to be, it will be. In fact I often tell my clients the right deal always materializes.

My in-laws are in town for my husband's cousin's memorial, which was Friday. Everything "extracurricular" I do I often have to map out in advance, if even to mentally prepare for additional human interaction. Sounds crazy, right? It does to me anyway. At the same time, it's my present reality.

The thing is, I wake up everyday feeling like I'm hung over. Only there was no night before bender to induce this sorry state. Even if I get a solid eight, uninterrupted hours of sleep (insomnia is common with this illness) I still wake up feeling unrested, like shit. So it takes me quite a bit to get going in the mornings, including time to medicate, eat and medicate again, etc. With limited bandwidth, it's important for me to be able to plan, as much as possible, how I allocate my energy day-to-day.

I've been working some crazy long hours the past couple weeks, which is super hard on me. One week, everyday I was up and immediately launched into work on my laptop in bed not to put down my day (dressing, meals and bathroom breaks aside) until bedtime; for days consecutive. Wake up, work, go to bed and do it all over again. That's no way to live, for anyone. Last year I did the majority of my production, which was equivalent to the previous year, in six months. By early October I hit a wall. Nearly six months later I feel like I still haven't fully recovered from overworking myself.

Within the past few weeks, in a fit of frustration, I told my husband I wanted to quit my job. He said if I did we'd end up getting divorced, because we would run out of money. I asked if that's all I was to him; just a paycheck. I don't exactly recall how he tried to talk his way out of that one, feebly no doubt.

Yesterday I was on the road by 8:30 a.m., which really takes something for me. It means planning, extra effort. Had a brief break from 12:20 p.m. to around 1:00 p.m. between driving the hour or so back from my morning appointment to lunch, medicate and write up an offer contract for the client I was going back out to meet at 1:00 p.m. During my rushed, multi-tasking lunch time my husband walked in the house with my mother-in-law. I received them cordially. At the same time I was focused on the tasks at hand. My mother-in-law asked if I was going to dinner at my brother-in-law's that night. I said it was the first I was hearing of it. Just then my husband brashly began berating me about how I have so many message notifications on my phone I didn't see his text message.

I asked when he sent the message. He said about 15 or 20 minutes prior. So I reminded him of my activities to that point, asking him when I would have been focused on anything other than the task at hand. I then asked if dinner would be in an environment where I wasn't constantly being made wrong, because then I would consider it.

Honestly, I would rather be able to spend leisure time with family than feel like I need to recharge. My biological batteries have been feeling consistently quite depleted. It's during these times having additional interpersonal interaction feels like a pull.

The Honourable Jean-Marie de Montague

Rhododendron^{[pronunciation?]} (from Ancient Greek ῥρόδον rhódon "rose" and δέντρο déndro "tree")^[3][4] is a genus of 1,024 species of woody plants in the heath family (Ericaceae), either evergreen or deciduous, and found mainly in Asia, although it is also widespread throughout the Southern Highlands of the Appalachian Mountains of North America. It is the national flower of Nepal. Most species have showy flowers which bloom from late winter through to early summer.

Thanks, Wikipedia!

The Coast Rhododendron is Washington's official state flower. Archibald Menzies discovered the Coast Rhododendron in 1792 when he and George Vancouver landed near present day Port Discovery.

Why am I writing about Rhododendron's? They're just about everywhere I look, they're starting to really blossom and I love it! Springtime in Western Washington is one of the most beautiful seasons and places to enjoy it. My yard has at least a dozen or so well established Rhododendrons, as does my neighbors' right across the street.

Tedd was out tending to his yard when I arrived home a short while ago. He was pruning back a yucca, which I don't understand why one would have such a plant in the Pacific Northwest. Anyway, Tedd is a character. Very bright, from an engineering background. Long story short, his family were some of the early settlers and founders of our town. He and his wife Vickie have lived in that house for about 30 years, maybe more. They are such lovely people.

When it comes to plans, Tedd is a veritable encyclopedia. He seems to know about every species of Rhododendron. Today I admired his giant red one at the very peak of its bloom. He told me it is called The Honourable Jean-Marie de Montague, which I had to say repeatedly in my head and then a couple times out loud to Tedd before I could remember it.

I wanted more info. on this specie, so I did some online research:

This cultivar's long name, 'The Honorable Jean Marie de Montague,' is generally shortened to 'Jean Marie de Montague' or simply 'Jean Marie' for sake of practicality or affection. But it is charming to find it not only listed in such important overviews as Greer's Guide to Available Rhododendrons by its fuller name, but actually alphabetized under the word "The."

Developed in Holland by C. B. van Nes & Sons about 1901 (though not in general production until the 1930s) 'Jean Marie' was for decades regarded as the best of all red rhododendrons. When the buds have matured, there is no more perfect red in existance. The flowers open to a slightly paler red, with faint freckles on the inner uppmost petal.
There you have it! And here's a photo:

Smudging

Mystics say the Native American practice of smudging, or purifying a room with the smoke of sacred herbs, can help clear negative energy from a space. The apparent benefits are steeped in science—when burned, sage and other herbs release negative ions, which research has linked to a more positive mood.

 

On occasion I like to smudge my home. Regardless of spiritual or ceremonial implications, I actually enjoy the way my home smells afterward; a little hippie-dippy.

Thursday afternoon was the last time I indulged this practice. I've been feeling less than stellar this past week, and it's something I've been meaning to do since our last house guest departed.

First I cleaned house. My kitchen was a mess, so I got that in order, tidied up the rest of the space (a never-ending chore). Then I referenced an online "how to", and proceeded to start with cleansing myself in the farthest, lower room in my house, which is the basement utility room.

I wrapped myself in sage smoke from toe to head in clockwise, then counterclockwise circles while saying a prayer. The prayer was about clearing negative energy, thought form, ideas or attachments never to return. After I finished clearing myself, I went through the rest of my house, going around each door and window as well as filling each corner with smoke. I continued repeating the prayer.

When I reached my lower floor bedroom, our dog came out from under the covers to see me. So I cleared her, too. After, she burrowed back under the covers and I went on to finish the room, closet and adjacent bath. Just as I was finishing the bath and about to re-enter the hallway to the bedroom door, our dog sprang out from the bed, charging into the hallway barking as though she were chasing someone. I nearly leaped out of my skin!

After smudging the rest of the house, I felt better, calmer. The next day our dog started having loose stool and has been a bit unwell. I started feeling a bit more blah yesterday and today a bit unwell, too. I feel like either I didn't do something right or perhaps this is part of the bad juju making its way out of our systems. One can only hope ...

Smart Meters Threaten All Life As We Know It

Ever stop to ponder our modern day and think to yourself, "Geez, the world has become a really weird place since 911."? You're not alone.

Environmental depletion, mass extinction, pollution ... Lack of clean air, water, food ... Mass disease and starvation. Corporations attempting to control most every aspect of our lives, including food and water. The world has never been a more toxic place.

Just when you thought there was enough ill in the world, your electric utility company is set to deploy something that you absolutely must be aware of. Introducing the "smart" meter, the revolutionary way our governing powers intend to fry us and be involved in every aspect of our lives.

According to my local electric utility Seattle City Light, more than 500 utilities across the nation already use this technology, with 50 million advanced meters installed at 43 percent of American households (Institute for Electric Innovation, 2014). So that must make it OK right? Wrong.

These meters emit Radio-Frequency (RF) radiation up to thousands of times greater than mobile devices, the health/safety hazards of which is still under-studied and/or under-disseminated. Further, these advanced meters, as they are also referred, have the ability to communicate with every piece of hardware or appliance in our homes and relay that info. back to the utility as well as third parties interested in knowing our personal whereabouts. That game gesturing technology is awesome, right? Depends on what it's being used for. Playing games. Government spying, detecting our every action, thought and mood. Talk about Orwellian dystopia. It's more like a horrible nightmare.

This subject recently came to my attention at a group meeting for Lyme disease patients such as myself. One of the attendees is organizing a community group to stop these smart meters from being deployed in their Seattle neighborhood. I don't want them in mine, either.

Today I called down to city hall in the small, suburban Seattle town in which I reside. I spoke with community outreach manager Amanda about this issue. She mentioned our town has no cell phone towers, and this is by design. She's going to look into this issue with the city manager as well as their utility contacts and get back with me early next week. Amanda said if we don't have anything on the books, I may be invited to speak to city council about this issue.

If you wish to further educate yourself on this subject, I highly recommend this site and documentary: www.takebackyourpower.net

My headline may seem a bit dramatic. Watch the documentary and then you decide whether it actually is ...

Woody Harrelson Nails It!

Wise words from a wise man ...http://upliftconnect.com/thoughts-from-within/

I felt more connected after reading this. Overlooking the distraction of our current dystopian reality, one realizes they are not the only one who can see beyond the veil of lies and greed. We are not alone. We ARE one ...

X-Files Re-Opened My Struggle

I fucking loved this new episode and am so excited about the reboot of X-Files!!

Browsing some of the Facebook posts about last night's premiere season 10 episode, the New York Times critic seems to think the story had problems, but it was great for nostalgia sake. OK, they're entitled to their opinion as I am to mine. Here goes ... I am not in the least bit surprised this episode failed to resonate with the old, and I mean antiquated, establishment rag such as the New York Times.

The overarching theme of the episode, and the new direction the show is exploring is around government mistrust and abuse.

For viewers, and especially die hard X-Files fans, I believe this theme resonates so well. Why? Because it feels like the truth, and its mechanics are well placed in our reality of present day. Multi-national companies profiting off the deliberate over consumption of resources, those claiming they are feeding the world when they are starving it and taking away humanity's most basic rights to clean air, water and food.

I thought it was really excellent the show went in this direction because of the profoundly dire and actual insights this holds. I'm actually a bit surprised the show was so bold. Let's face it, truth is often stranger than fiction. So is this all really that far fetched?

I can imagine the hidden powers that be, whether corporate/military industrial complex/government, would find this broadcast at the very least a little unsettling. People are becoming increasingly aware and intolerant of the insidious greed which plagues us all.

The Curse of Chief Seattle

According to my 'This Day in History' widget, in 1773 Captain James Cook crossed the Antarctic Circle. Something I find oddly synchronistic about this. Just yesterday I stumbled across a news story about Antarctica possibly containing the world's deepest canyons below the ice. My curiosity lead me to further research the content. Did you know there's nearly two kilometers of ice covering the land on Antarctica and the continental interior is known to be the driest place on Earth? It's considered to be a desert. Only the coastal areas get a little annual precipitation. I digress ...

Captain Cook has a profound tie to the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. In fact he was one of the very first explorers to sail into the Puget Sound. His crew included George Vancouver, who later named every island, mountain, waterway, and point of land in sight, including previously recorded Spanish landmarks.  Puget Sound itself is named for his lieutenant Peter Puget. His predecessor Captain Cook was one of the first "palefaces" the area natives ever encountered.

Also in the news this week, Seattle's boondoggle of a "Big Dig" project hit another big snag. Washington State Governor Inslee put a stop to the world's largest-ever tunnel boring machine Bertha: http://www.geekwire.com/2016/governor-stops-berth-tunnel-machine/

First Bertha hit a mysterious object, which turned out to be a pipe that had been called out in the tunnel schematics.

Then Bertha broke down.

After that, Bertha was rescued and repaired at considerable risk and cost.

Next came a barge that hit an adjacent pier, potentially creating more risk. Oops.

Finally, a sinkhole has opened up.

Nearly 162 years ago to the day, great Chief Seattle, who had foretold the "palefaces" would one day have longhouses that stood on their sides and reached to the sky, expressed the following at the Treaty of Point Elliott signing:

"Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people ... And when the last red man shall have perished-and the memory of my tribe is but a myth among white men-these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe ... At night-when the streets of your cities and villages are deserted-they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land ... The white man will never be alone!"

Just for fun, I'm proclaiming the great chief and his people are not only opponents of the 99 Viaduct replacement tunnel, they have vengefully cursed it.

The tribe has spoken ...

Western WA Origins

Since childhood I recall a special kinship with my hometown of Issaquah and Seattle, its area of dominant influence. My family relocated to the Puget Sound Region when I was entering second grade, age seven and a half. A few things struck me as unique to my new home. An emphasis on nautical hobbies such as boat racing and waterskiing. An emphasis on aeronautics, the area dotted with small airports, gliders and skydivers. Windsocks were common sights as was native-inspired artwork. Today by comparison really only the nautical holds firmly true.

I fondly remember one of my first visits to Seattle's waterfront in the early 1980s. Waiting for a ferry to cross either to Bremerton or Winslow (I can't recall which), I stumbled into Ye Olde Curiosity Shop.

Founded in 1899, this house of 1,000 relics captivated me. If I had been allowed to, I could have spent countless hours there exploring and dreaming. Here one can find everything from native artwork, tourist swag, historic artifacts and quite bizarre creatures (like shrunken heads, two-headed animals, etc.). There's just something about this place and a couple other unique and historic spots like Seattle's Pioneer Square and Pike Place Market that are almost indescribable. It's more than the scent of ancient timbers and decades of managed dust. It's a feeling. A feeling of nostalgia. A feeling of optimism. A feeling of spirit, heart and soul, of what those before me dreamed would eventually become of this sacred place we know today as Seattle.

From a much broader perspective, I had always considered my town as my town, my county as my county, my state as my state and my country as my country. Perhaps one could consider this an entitlement for being born of a certain nativity at a certain time in history, in my case a late twentieth century American. Yet barely more than 160 years ago, claims to this land were much more ambiguously uncertain. Examining how this land for you and me came to be, admittedly I become increasingly less fond of my own native heritage.

Modern day scientists have evidence supporting the existence of indigenous people in my region dating back some 8,000 to 10,000 years before the first settlers of European descendants arrived to this once pristine realm. One certainly need only rely on historians, the local library or the internet to understand who was here before our predecessors began to call this place home and stake their claims to it.

I make somewhat frequent trips to West Seattle from it's burbs to the south. Often my route takes me along the western banks of the once mighty Duwamish River. One might as this river, once teeming with nature, is now a barren wasteland of industry. In fact it is today a federal superfund site; highly toxic. I guess we Americans call that progress?

At the north end of West Marginal Way sits proudly the Duwamish Tribal Longhouse, which looks out toward a park at the edge of the superfund. I've passed by this building on numerous occasions. I was drawn in for the first time several weeks ago by a jazz event, which was actually on a different day than the one I had seen advertised. No matter, the longhouse is open to the public and I was there during regular business hours. So I poked around. A very kind, pleasant woman greeted me. She didn't appear to be of native descent. Then again, I am of half Greek and half Hispanic descent, not exactly anyone's picture of your typical "guy next door all American."

After greeting me, the woman gave me a brief tour of the gallery and museum by pointing out from where we stood at the entrance what I would find where. I started with the splendid gallery featuring work by indigenous descendants. Much of the work was more contemporary, some even modern and most of it quite well done. I was more drawn to the artifacts, relics and historical points of interest. This is when I began my study of these once thriving, native people. The Duwamish Tribe in particular still struggles for federal recognition. They were the first "Seattleites," so how can this be?

My curiosity drew me to begin some initial research on the most celebrated, native tribal figure for whom the founders named this area of dominant influence after; Chief Seattle. Seattle is a variation of this great man's name. In their indigenous culture, the native people of this area customarily never spoke the name of the deceased for fear that spirit resting in peace would be disturbed.

Incidentally, before becoming a Washington resident, I learned to walk on a rocky beach in Poulsbo, a short distance from Chief Seattle's and his Suquamish Tribe's winter lodging grounds, known as Ole Man House.

Last week I ventured to the King County Public Library's Burien branch, which has a surprisingly rich collection of Northwest culture and history. I picked up three Chief Seattle biographies and just today completed reading the third. What a fascinating, rich history this area has! I wonder how many think about all that transpired to "settle" this area.

Between the three books I found some disparities in information, some holes in timelines and in the most detailed book possibly quite a bit of racism. I actually now find the word racism a little antiquated. Aren't we really talking about people who fancy themselves to be superior to another? Should we not refer to them as "elitists" or "supremacists"? If the Cole Haan fits ...

Not sure at this point where my intrigue around local history may lead me, I'm looking forward to finding out!