When I receive things in prayer, often the words I hear are common to me.
(*) Therefore “angel,” “heaven,” and “eternal life” are in the text, because those are words that resonated with me at the time of the writing. The words can easily be replaced to fit another’s comfort level.
This was scribed by me over a year ago. Had I asked this same question today, no doubt the response would be somewhat different in word choice and content. Still this stands the test of time for me. I continue to find the message comforting and affirming.
Spring 2011
On FEAR
(by Samantha Craft)
There is a lot of energy in your area that is directed towards fear: fear of illness, fear of disaster, fear of future, fear especially of repercussion of past choices. This fear is a necessary part of the process of human evolution. At the same time, this fear is necessary to release.
Fear creates more fear, even as fear sleeps below as nothingness. It can create. This fear is nothing, and yet it produces. This is a concept of debate, but nonetheless true.
Without fear we do not learn to release fear. In the process of release, we discover, if even for a small moment, a sense of tranquility and knowingingness that is best described as lifting of the veil.
In fear we find refuge from our common problems; we escape momentarily from what is around us in the present, and let go of where we stand, our foundation slipping beneath us into oblivion even without us taking note. People respond to fear like iron flecks to magnet. This fear calls to us, promising us solution and reprieve from our ordinary dwellings of spirit.
This fear is a falsehood, with false intention and false promises.
Answering the call of fear does not do little; answering the call of fear does great—in this we mean there is no small amount of consequences of responding to the call of fear; there is only large amount of consequence.
Fear begets fear, begets fear. Fear instills fear. Even a discussion or revelation of the consequences of fears’ travels, begets even more fear.
There is similar process with love, except love currently (for you) does not have the same magnetic pull. Perhaps because the axis of the earth, as you perceive it, is more prone for fearful thoughts and circumstances. Perhaps more because the axis of the mind is more prone for fearful thoughts and circumstances. For as the earth is on an axis, thus is the mind, spinning out of control with the simplest of perceived threats.
WE must turn back and find from where the threat has risen, from what the ultimate fear has stemmed from. When we look closely, and with open spirit eyes, we shall soon rediscover what we already innately knew; we shall witness that fear is always a derivative of death. What we fear ultimately is what will bring us to death. Death is perceived as an enemy, a curse that falls on the unlucky and cursed. Death is something to escape, to run from, to spend countless energy in all forms sprinting from.
There is no escape. Death is here. Death is all around you. Death is in the flower giving birth; to the tree releasing his soul; to the ocean bleeding on the shores; everything sheds, releases and is reborn.
Instead of running from death, it is beneficial to run towards love.
WE are so busy creating in our minds the scenarios to escape death, that we become blinded by our neighbors, by the needy, by the naïve, and staves of hopelessness.
You need not fear this word created as Death, for he is as real as your shadow, as real as the reflection on the water where you look and cannot touch. For if you touch these illusions they diminish before the brain can process their possible existence.
You too will diminish, as a shadow that was born for only moments. In this moment you are but an existence within an existence, a shadow within a shadow.
There is no escaping a threat that does not exist. Only escaping a mind that tricks you as the coyote tricks the layman. You are but a crippled traveler, thinking he has set eyes upon an oasis in the desert, running towards the illusion of water to relieve a thirst that does not exist.
Fear not this self-created death—fear more the response you have created in your world to an illusion—to the actions of the fearful—to what you leave behind and forget when fear is the house you reside your spirit, your soul.
You are so much more than illusion and self-created pain and fear. You are like the dove with the laurel branch offering guidance and reassurance amidst a land that has been washed away. You need not fear, for your wings will carry you to the highest ground, to the place above fear, where you can look down, as a scope to the world, and examine all that is beneath, before, and after.
Above are the answers; lift your head to the heavens (*), and then go above this place of fear.
You have no control over the evolutions of time, the events that mark your destiny, the places you shall and shall not travel.
This is written: That no man shall know the end times until the end times have past. That no man shall suffer unknowingingly and undutiful without the assistant of his angels. That no man shall be alone. For if one man is alone, all man shall be alone.
And in the end, when the sun has ceased to shine, and the heavens (*) have opened welcoming every last soul to the eternal promise (*) , we shall sing for all that has past, for this enemy in fear, for this teacher; for though he has troubled and hindered, has forbade and tackled, he has also inspired the multitudes to cling like diamond to his sister, and rocket to the sky.
We shall be triumphant, not in our measurement of fear or release of tiresome aches. WE shall be triumphant in our ability to overcome the magnificent foe of fear.
And in this way, when we gather together around the burning embers of fear, embracing the love that bleeds from fear’s core, then, and only then, shall we see the illusion of all that was, is and is yet to be.
There is no you, only us, only we, only eternity in the notion of forever. You are love. You are fear. You are everything you embrace. So we beseech you to embrace love, to see the heart that resides in the core of the fear that grips you. Love yourself, love your neighbor, and in this all will be healed. Forever.
I broke up with normal sometime back. And today I marry the misfit. I am a misfit. I am a person who is not suited or is unable to adjust to the circumstances of his or her particular situation, that situation being a world in which there is manipulation, intentional harm, lies, judgment, ridicule and actions that cause hurt, rejection, and despair.
I like the misfit I am. I like that I stand for justice. I appreciate that I stand for transformation. I have pain in my interior and exterior, a fragile structure so it seems. But I am strong. I am intense. With an intensity and power to affect the world.
Rose-Petal Bride
Today I am bride to all misfits
I marry them all
I embrace their radiating beauty
I say I do
I vow eternity at their side
I wed those who strive for betterment and love
Who question the existing state of affairs
The bravest souls of all
The ones shaking in their boots with fear
Shaking so hard that they long to retreat and hide
But they don’t
They force themselves to stand upfront, straight and center and show their true colors
Oh, how I admire these misfits
My better half
And my equals
With their humbled hearts and humbled souls, and all the wounds they carry
How I admire their drive, their visions, and their limitless ability to pick themselves back up and carry on
The greatest of men are those that have the hugest of hearts, feel the knife of rejection and judgment, know they are different, but embrace this difference, this grand uniqueness to make a transformation in the world
I hold the misfits in the grandest of light today
Embrace their collective existence
Embrace their endeavors, humanity, and spirit
And offer my hand in comfort
May the misfits rise and know we do not need to adjust to the unjust
Rise now all misfits
I give you my promise of loyalty and admiration
I make you my own
You are the miracle of today
The bride and groom of tomorrow
How I marvel your veil of brilliance, creativity, and ability to continue onward in a place so often filled with trickery
How I love your tuxedo of light and gown of wisdom’s pearls
You are the answer: you and your dreams and desires
A song I wrote this morning to play on my guitar today. Inspired by my friends I have met through blogging. I love you all so much and am ever so thankful for your beauty. ~ Sam
“I’m just another writer still trapped within my truth.” ~ Dan Hill
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Sometimes when I dream, the honesty is too much. Sometimes when I dream, I travel into the life and spirit of a friend. Sometimes strangers visit me. Always, always people come, in all forms, with all types of messages. And we touch.
Recently, I’ve had two friends visit in my dreams, just in this last six days. Both dreams were filled with extreme emotion, both dreams had anxiety, both involved an urgency. When I awake from dreams such as these, I am left with a residue, a film in my spirit, something that remains, the remnants of what was shared with me. A streak in the glass of my vision I can’t wipe clean.
If I am fortunate enough to confirm the happening in the dream, and make a connection, and find some validity in discovering what I sensed actually occurred in real life, I am able to discharge and remove some of the energy. If not, sometimes I take on the feelings of the other person, become overly concerned about something I do not understand and cannot even pinpoint. I may feel a rush of panic, fear, or injustice. I might weep. I might laugh. I might become hyper focused. I might hibernate; attempting to disrobe the feelings, only to emerge still weighed down and lost. I take on this energy, as much as I take on the dreams, without knowing how or why, and without knowing how to stop.
Sometimes I want to break down and cry. Sometimes I have to close my eyes and hide. The emotions are so overwhelming. I feel like I’ve been opened up and had another’s spirit poured into me. At times I become that person. At times I understand the person more than myself.
I dreamt once, years ago, of my long time friend. She was stretched out on a car and pointing to her kidneys and kept saying, “I need a bladder operation; the doctor told me I need a bladder operation.” I called my friend the next morning, and sure enough she had just found out she required surgery related to the tubing above her bladder.
Long ago, while I was napping my grandmother started wafting above my bed, a ghostly apparition draped in an aqua-colored dress. Swaying back and forth, an inch below the bedroom ceiling, she kept repeating the same phrase: “Wake up. Get off the phone. I am waiting for a man from Egypt to call.” This made absolutely no sense to me, as I was sound asleep some two hundred miles away from Grandma, and I most certainly wasn’t on the telephone. Still dreaming, and wanting desperately to get some rest, I looked up at Grandma and answered, “But I’m not on the phone. I’m taking a nap.”
Grandma continued on, a stream of blue, weaving herself back and forth in my room, badgering me to get off the telephone. Having found no luck, after I placed two pillows over my head to block out her voice, I sat up and screamed, “If you leave me alone, I’ll call you when I wake up. Go away and let me sleep!” On my words, Grandma vanished.
Within the hour I phoned my grandmother. After a few minutes on the phone, I delicately described my dream to her, thinking at some point she’d say I wasn’t making any sense, and that would be the end of the discussion. Surprisingly, Grandma responded, without pause for breath, “You’re a witch! I’ve been sitting by the phone waiting for a man from Egypt to call me about his interest in buying my house. How did you know? Actually, I need to get off the phone now. He might be trying to call.”
Years ago, I dreamt that two of my teaching colleagues would be going to Japan by the end of the year. They both came to my dream together and told me. That year both were surprised to learn they were traveling to Japan. One was accepted in an over-seas teaching program; the other unexpectedly was invited by a host family. Another time an old woman, a stranger, came to me in my dream very upset. She said that my mother was going through her items and taking them, keeping them for herself. She showed me the room where the items were spread out. She showed me my mother holding her things. I told my mother the next day, and sure enough my mother had been to a friend’s house and had collected several items from her friend’s mom whom had just died.
There are so many visits, I could go on and on: a family drowned on the beach, my future house and the owners of the house, my future employer, my car accident, my grandfather’s car accident, my mother-in-law’s cancer, my friend house hunting, the person dying in the car off the highway, my husband’s co-worker getting married and denying it, my son’s karate teacher getting engaged, friends divorcing, friends weeping on couches …..so many various people visiting me to tell me about their lives.
When I was very little, animals visited me and showed me their death. Usually my pets, but once a friend’s bunny came in my dream. The animals usually died just like they showed me within seven days. Once my canary was slashed under the eye by a stray cat. Once my dog died on the Fourth of July after jumping a fence. The dreams came true, just as I had witnessed. Thank goodness I was able to tell my mother the night of the dreams, which then I called nightmares. She was at least able to validate my experience. To show me my dreams were coming true and I wasn’t insane.
Interestingly, it seems lately the more I share and write, and the more I am not afraid to be authentic and honest, the more these dreams and feelings are coming. And the more I’m visited. I don’t mind the visits for the most part. I feel honored and know this gift or ability, or whatever one choses to call my visions, is a part of my journey. But there are definite times, like this week, when the emotions are so over powering that I don’t know what to say or do.
It’s times like these that sometimes when we touch, sometimes the honesty is too much. And then, all I want to do is to just hold my friend and cry, to hold on tight and not let go until the fear in us subsides.
Everyday Asperger's 