What is Remote Viewing

What Is Remote Viewing?

Remote viewing is the controlled use of ESP (extrasensory perception) through a specific method. Using a set of protocols (technical rules), the remote viewer can perceive a target - a person, object or event - that is located distantly in time and space. A remote viewer, it is said, can perceive a target in the past or future that is located in the next room, across the country, around the world or, theoretically, across the universe. In remote viewing, time and space are meaningless. What makes remote viewing different than ESP is that, because it uses specific techniques, it can be learned by virtually anyone.

The term "remote viewing" came about in 1971 through experimentation conducted by Ingo Swann (who correctly remote viewed in 1973 that the planet Jupiter has rings, a fact later confirmed by space probes), Janet Mitchell, Karlis Osis and Gertrude Schmeidler.

In the method that they and others developed, there are five components necessary for remote viewing to take place:

• a subject (the remote viewer)
• active ESP abilities
• a distant target
• the subject's recorded perceptions
• a confirmatory positive feedback

A remote viewing sessions lasts about one hour.

During the Cold War through the 1970s and 1980s, remote viewing was further developed by the US military and the CIA through such programs codenamed Sun Streak, Grill Flame and Star Gate. The government-sponsored remote viewing programs were successful, according to many who participated. Some of the now-declassified examples include the highly accurate and detailed descriptions of buildings and facilities hundred of miles from the remote viewer - including a crane assembly in the Soviet Union.

Although these organizations claim that after 20 years of experimentation their remote viewing programs have been abandoned, some insiders believe that they are being continued secretly. Some well-known remote viewers say they were contacted by the US government after the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks to help locate other possible terrorist activity.

What It Isn't

Remote viewing is not an out-of-body experience. A remote viewer does not astrally project to the target, although some remote viewers occasionally report a feeling of bilocating to the site of the target.

It also is not a meditative, dream or trance state. During a remote viewing session, the subject is always fully awake and alert. As Christophe Brunski writes in "Remote Viewing: Conditions and Potentials," "Whereas one might consider a trance state to be 'going down' into the deeper levels of mind, RV might be said to allow information from these deeper levels to 'come up.'"

How Does It Work?

No one really knows for certain how remote viewing works, only that it does. One theory is that trained remote viewers are able to tap into the "Universal Mind" - a kind of comprehensive storehouse of information about everything, where time and space are irrelevant. The remote viewer can enter a "hyperconscious state" in which he or she can tune in to specific targets within the universal consciousness of which all people and all things are a part. It sounds like a lot of "New Age" jargon, but it's a good guess as to what's really taking place.

Ingo Swann calls remote viewing a "form of virtual reality traveling" that is brought under conscious control.

How well does it work? While skeptics contend that it doesn't work at all and some proponents claim it works 100 percent of the time, the fact is it does work, but not all of the time for all remote viewers. A highly skilled remote viewer may have a success rate that approaches 100 percent; he or she may be able to access a target nearly all of the time, but all of the data obtained may not be completely accurate. There are many factors involved, and some targets may be more complicated to reach and describe than others.

Wild Empath Chronicles – purpose

I read on many different sites the thoughts of man being his own god. Those that swear the light is the only way, say god resides in us, and there is no supreme being. We are all a part of a collective consciousness, one piece of a bigger picture. To keep the collective going we must help each other, draw all forces, to protect the small and weak. It is the destiny of the higher being to bring harmony to all, love and light to all mankind. They say this is their purpose, and they are a more enlightened human being, it is for the collective, not for the self. That we are not animals, but supreme beings, knowing of inner power and love.

There is another side to this as well. The side that says, we should follow nature’s rules, the strong survive to insure a stronger species of man. This side says that you are a god, a more selfish god, one that allows each person to be a sole entity to itself. To say there is no connection as a whole, and to tend only survive at the peril of others if necessary; to prey on the weak, to keep yourself strong.


The inherent issues with both ideals leave them doomed to failure. Even if just one of these ideals was upon the planet, they would not survive. Nature is much more complicated than that. Sure they don’t propagate weak species, but they also honor their instinctual nature.

In the wild very few animals are rouge, they need the herd to survive. The hierarchy is such that will benefit the group. In most cases the male is to protect the herd, at all costs. The instinct for self preservation is strong, but the need to keep “his” herd safe is stronger. The females are responsible for care and feeding the herd. They are the nurturers, the ones that keep the species alive. This is true in predator and prey.

In the predator it is the strongest, and most vicious that leads the group, male and female roles. They fight for the right to be at the top, prove their worth, through struggle, and until they can no longer hold their place. Then a new struggle, a new leader will be established. Wolves have families; the pack tends its own. They are not individuals, they are a unit.

In prey it is the smartest and the fastest in most cases. I have studied wild horses, an amazing culture. The stallions although quite vicious, will most times opt for flight to protect the herd. The difference in most prey is that there is only one male, the strongest to maintain a stronger herd. Herds are small design easier to manage, and to protect. And although the stallions fight for supremacy, the lead mare is seldom challenged until she is aged. It is an inherent trait that is passed on that gives her the greater ability to find food and water, to command respect with just a presence.

Neither can survive without the other. Without prey, the predators would perish, and with out predators the prey would over run the feeding grounds and would perish.

Same is true for people… only to think of it unto yourself. If you live solely for the greater good of man kind, the collective you go against the laws of nature, you open yourself up for the failure to protect yourself, and eventually you will no longer be able to survive in this world. Even if every human being opted against violence, nature isn’t that kind. If you live solely for the personal betterment of your life, there is no way you can be all things to yourself. People need people, for survival, for comfort,

In nature all things are balanced. When the balance is disrupted nature finds a way to bring it back to rights. Nature has no feeling on it one way or the other. All it wants is equal plus’s and equal minus. Down to the smallest electron, it is established such a way.

It doesn’t matter if you believe in a higher deity or not. Nature doesn’t care. If we are here to survive, we need to help each other but not be afraid to help ourselves as well. The whole system is set up with checks and balances; the intricacy of the big picture is too perfect for random chance. We are not gods; we are but pieces to the puzzle. We did not set up the system. In my own opinion a greater being did.

As far as people go, the higher being in my humble opinion is not the most giving or the most taking, but the most balanced. There is great freedom there.

Wild empath chronicles- the dark

I am not a dark hearted person, and the whole concept of people saying they are “dark” was not in my understanding. Why would anyone embrace such a notion? It was beyond my thinking.



She was chatting with a friend, someone that said often he was dark. She never knew what that meant…to be dark. Was it to think dark thoughts, do dark deeds, was it a lifestyle, a way of looking at the world?

As the chat started it was light, gentle banter. He received a call from a family member who’s opinion mattered to him, and the call was a reminder of his short comings. The mood changed quickly, so drastic she felt it. He had decided to drown his sorrows, in the more common of ways, in the form of drink. At first the banter remained light hearted, then an increasing feeling of loss was felt. It made no sense, but she paid attention to the changing moods. He was listening to songs that reminded him of a bleak dark time in his life. The mood changed even more. He wanted to feel pain, to cause pain, over come another. As she watch and felt, he drew up all the past transgressions that had been done to him, all the perceived wrong doings he had dealt out during his life. And as the feelings grew, the hate, anger and sorrow turned to rage. A gust of energy flew towards her and she started to protect herself just before he warned her. He was consumed by the rage, he honored it, welcomed it, and bathed his being in it. His humanity was lost. Hope was lost. It was at this point she knew what the darkness was.

As he realized that he could no longer control the feelings he withdrew the best he could. She could still feel consuming darkness, it felt like raw power. But more than that, the rage was in control, for a short time there was nothing of this man but the power of the darkness, loss of hope, loss of humanity.

He regained control at no short cost to him as there was no way to direct the anger safely. It hurt his mortal body to take in that kind of energy, his blood pressure spiked, but still he kept it inside.

Eventually he did gain his senses back, his humanity restored. His pain was full on, and he accepted it as a token of what he was.

Through the link of their friendship he showed her what would more than likely never be experienced by her in her lifetime if fate was kind to her. A gift of knowing? A warning? Or just a part of a man’s life that few can understand, many shy away from, and no one wants to see.

Wild Empath Chronicles - Mind, Body and Spirit

We are told of a life with no boundaries, no burdens. We are told we are allowed to fly free, unfettered by the confines of life. We check in with reality and the ego states loudly, yes! Yes! I want this freedom. Let us tear down the walls of confinement that hold us so neatly in place. The ego rises to the challenge, shouting and cursing the boundaries set upon this life.

 The spirit waits, hoping against hope that this can be true, hope, the everlasting life essential for all of mankind. 

As the ego rails against the walls society has erected, balances the power of the spirit and takes a moment to see what these walls are made of. Brick, mortar, steel and glass, all strong elements but the ego is not daunted, it pulls from deep within and with every ounce of effort and the strength of the hope of the human spirit it blows the walls to pieces. But now all around there are bits of sharp stone, broken glass, pointed pieces sharp enough for arrow heads, the ego is crushed. 

The sight seen in the distance is one of great beauty, everlasting space and time. But one step on the broken shards would tear the foot to ribbons of bleeding flesh. If you were lucky you would make two maybe three steps and then be unable to go on, surrounded by nothing but those things that can give you great pain.

 Hope fades as you stay in your small safe circle, now seeing what is out there and unable to join with it, the freedom within your sight, but still inaccessible to you.

But wait, the spirit whispers to the ego. It was you that built this wall, how is it that it has been built so fortified with such strong elements? The ego slightly appalled at the question answers, isn’t it obvious? What else could keep such a strong being so confined? It would take mighty things to keep freedom at bay. 

The spirit smiles and ponders for a moment. Brick, mortar, steel and glass are all things made from man. It is God that offers us freedom. What if, just what if those walls are made of our own emotions? Thoughts soft as summer sunshine that change like gentle breezes, what if this is what made of these walls? You, ego feel it must be something harsh to allow you to accept your captivity. But this is something of your making, not something that God gave us. What if this barrier, these walls have burst and all that surrounds you are gentle things soft as goose down, gentle as a lover’s kiss, lovely as a rose, what if this is what must be crossed to find this elusive freedom we crave. 

The spirit full now of hope takes a chance, one step. There is no pain, and greater hope ensues. The spirit takes another step, then another, the feeling of broken barrier tickles the spirit’s fancy. The ego is mortified. How could I be so foolish, how could I not realize that God would never want this body to feel so trapped? Spirit smiles and nods, it wasn’t foolish, we all just have to be ready at the same time. And together Mind, Ego, Body and Spirit stepped out into the vast expanse of time and space.

Wild Empath Chronicles protection part 3

So many things had happened in such a short period of time. Moving from park to park and enjoying the most beautiful places on the planet. Incredible canyons, multi colored rock formations, lush forest of green and light. No beauty was missed, nothing over looked. But the ride had stopped and it was time to get off.

Hooked on amphetamines, her tall slender frame was down now to 89 pounds. She looked like a refuge from a concentration camp. Every bone protruded, the long lean muscle nearly gone. He reminded her of that often. Of her diminished looks, her inability to think rationally, her need for him.

He was good at what he did. He saved her from a foe, and allowed her to think he would protect her. In her heart she knew there was no connection, but the wonder of the new drugs he introduced her to clouded her sight. First it was speed, she loved the feeling. Next there was the wonder of psychedelics, acid, mushrooms, peyote. All doled out in small doses, but enough to break the mind. Always you think you have control, always you were wrong.

The systematic way of destroying a person’s self worth is not as hard as you might think. It starts small, an innuendo, a comment, a look. Then as you react to the stimuli with shame or sadness, the force takes hold, and the comments more brutal, the reactions more fierce, the shame finally etched on her face.

The continence had changed. Shoulders now slumped, a face that showed fear or worry, inability reason unless it was to guess what he wanted the answer to be. She was gone. He played her like a puppet. A quick smile would bring her joy only to be debased for some little thing of no consequence. There were no friends in the new town, no one cared, and after all he reminded her many times, she was hardly worth the trouble. She was lucky he put up with her at all. She was broken, mind, body and spirit

She was done. She sat alone in a coffee shop at the counter, a plate of French fries in front of her and a pepsi. She was just lost. The fry cook made polite conversation, and she tried to respond, always looking at the door, hoping he wouldn’t catch her talking.

A young woman entered and sat at a booth. She beckons her over, “please join me she said”, I hate to eat alone”. She did so, happy for the company, but still unsure of the reason. The woman told her that her name was Lem. It was her initials and that she never told anyone her real name. It was just the way she was. The women chatted lightly of things that don’t really matter. The diner, what to have for lunch although it was quite late in the afternoon. As she was lolled into the conversation, mostly just nodding at the right time or offering a short answer Lem, surprised her.

“I have someone I want you to see, she said. He can help you.”

She assured Lem she needed no help, but Lem insisted and handed her a card. It was for a psychologist. She smiled, “I am not crazy”.

“Just humor me, Lem smiled. I will walk over with you after I eat. You have time today, you aren’t working”. She smiled and wondered how she knew that, but kept it to herself.

The walked over to a nearly vacant building, there were many empty offices, and Lem stopped in front of one. The walked inside and Lem introduced her. The Dr. was a young man in his 20’s she guessed. He had kind eyes, and a sweet smile. She was embarrassed and worried; she told him she had no money and that she didn’t want to bother him.

She turned for the door, and Lem held out her hand. “Please stay she asked, just talk that’s all, just for a little while.”

The Dr. led her into an office sparsely decorated with just a couple of chairs and a table. The Dr. motioned for her to sit and he explained that this was a government run program and no payment was necessary. The Dr. asked her name, and soon they were discussing her life.

“He is right you know, she started, I am not worth the effort, I have become so ugly.”

At the Dr. laughed, not a mean sound but a sparkling gentle sound. “There is nothing wrong with you, only what you have chosen to believe”. The Dr. told her what had happened, how he made her feel this way. That there was no reason for her to put up with it, and as he talked she started to feel more empowered, it wasn’t just the words, but a feeling, an energy. Not too much different than a pep talk really, but as the reasoning started clearing and the amazement at what she had allowed to happen, she started getting mad. She mentioned how her father made her feel that way; it was easy for her to believe the words she had heard all her life.

The Dr. took out a card and wrote on the back “My father, who’s approval I no longer need, but who’s love I’ll always have’ and gave it to her. “This is your ticket out,” the Dr. told her.

She got up to leave and shook the Doctor’s hand. She asked him for more cards to give out if anyone needed help, but he told her, that was the last one.

As she left the office she made a plan. That night she went home told him she was leaving. He laughed, and told her that she needed him. She held firm. The next day she got boxes at the store and packed up all his stuff, and put it outside the door. She locked up, put the couch in front of the door. That night she heard him banging on the door yelling terrible things. The neighbors must have bothered him, he left with is stuff, and she didn’t’ see him for a couple of days.

She was good at saving money, and had a few hundred dollars saved up. He knew this.

I had been a little over a week, and she was starting to think he wasn’t going to bother her anymore. She met some people at work, and was starting a new life.
One morning she was getting ready for work. She was in the shower when she heard a loud crash. He had kicked down the bathroom door. As she looked around the shower curtain, he pulled a knife, one of those folding buck knives. He grabbed the curtain and rod and threw them on the floor. He held up the knife and started for her. It was then she heard it. Do not be afraid. I will not let him harm you. She took a deep breath. He screamed at her to give him the money she had saved. She calmly answered no. He lunged for her, and she didn’t move. It was odd, his eyes went wide, and he just stood there for a moment, then turned around and walked away.

She stood there in shock, watching the water slowly soaking the bathroom floor. She didn’t move for what seemed a long time. Finally she uttered a thank you, and sank to her knees and let the tears fall.

She got to work late and finished the day. She had gone to the police and filed a report, but they couldn’t do anything because nothing was stolen, and she wasn’t hurt. That wasn’t what she wanted, but it was on file incase something happened again.

She decided to go to the psychologist’s office to tell him what happened, as she walked up to the building, there were no cars in the lot. Thinking back she couldn’t remember if there were any the first time she was there or not. As she walked to the office door, there was a feeling of being watched. She looked down the hall, there has a older man watching her. He asked if he could help her, she politely declined and started to open the office door. The handle had dust on it, and as she looked in the window she noticed the room was empty. She turned to the older gentleman and he smiled. They must have lost their funding. They have been gone now a couple weeks.

Wild Empath Chronicles protection part 2

She smiles when she thinks of her best friend. Debbie has been with her more years than she wants to admit. Aging isn’t a good topic for her. There is still so much more to do. Debbie is the one person that was up for anything. Debbie’s birthday is three days after hers, maybe that is why they were so good at having fun. When they turned 50 it was no surprise to those that knew them when they went skydiving for the first time. Adrenalin was their drug of choice.

She had lost her job. The boss hit on her, and she didn’t play along. It upset her greatly as she had done it all right. Went to school, got good grades, applied and was accepted in the job of her dreams. Then that ugly married man backed her to a wall and strongly suggested the unmentionable. It wasn’t right. She played by the rules. But the rules didn’t play by her, and she sunk to new lows. She had done things wrong and was hurt. She did things right and was hurt. Life just wasn’t working out for her, so what the hell, time to float and see what happens.

She had tried to get a job and failed, so it was time to leave her new friends. The bikers had taught her many things, how to shield, honor, and internal justice. She gave what she could, but it was time to go. She bought the biggest bottle of Jack Daniels she could afford, wrote a note of thanks and goodbye, packed her stuff and left. She never saw any of them again, her life had shifted, time for a new one.

She moved to where Debbie lived, knowing she would put her up until she could get back on her feet. She took cash paying odd jobs, as she was getting unemployment. Debbie worked at a restaurant in the small farming community. The restaurant was quite fine for the podunk town, the food excellent and the staff well trained. Debbie loved working there and made friends with the owner.

He was an interesting man. Not but a few years older than their 19 years, but he held an aura of power and control. His friends looked to him for guidance it seemed. They all worked together and she assumed it was because he was the boss and owner of the place. They were all well groomed, dressed in expensive yet tasteful clothes, had nice jewelry and cars. They were young, but carried themselves rather worldly. They moved from their home country, and spoke English broken but understandable. But most important at the time, they loved to party, and they had honor, they would protect them if need be. Never did they make unkind advancements, it almost seemed wrong. They were polite and always gentlemen. They would drive to the bay area to party. These guys knew all the fun places to go, and as the owner walked into any establishment they frequented, the people stood a little straighter, and where always accommodating to him.

She noticed it all, but didn’t think to worry about it. They were well protected and having a blast. Going to concerts, getting high, dancing, whatever came up. They spent the night at a friend’s house, both of the girls in the same room. As they undressed for bed there was a knock at the door. The girls looked at each other with knowing looks. They had been waiting for this. To their surprise there was a quiet “excuse me”, and one of the guys walked in. He smiled nervously and reached under the pillow and pulled out a rather large hand gun. He smiled and backed out of the room. Things were starting to make sense, but still they didn’t care. She knew the protection was there, she could feel it. But now she started paying closer attention. She was worried the gift had left her that it was not working right. They got up early that morning, hearing talking in the kitchen, as she rounded the corner, there was a table cloth quickly thrown over what looked like army type guns. She looked away as though she hadn’t seen anything, but now it was clear, they had to get out of there.

There was no problem as the guys seemed in a hurry to get them home. There was tension in the air, it was thick. But the weed was plentiful and they were laughing and joking around in no time. Seeing them safely home, the guys sped off but not towards work, back to the freeway. She was just happy to be home, away from them. Debbie wasn’t as aware yet to what was going on and although they discussed it Debbie thought she was being paranoid. Perhaps she was. It was on the news that night. Several gun men had shot up a bay area restaurant. The same type of cuisine that Debbie’s boss served. Still Debbie refused to see it.

She felt the danger now, upset she couldn’t before. She was nearly out of cash. She paid her rent, and was counting quarters to do laundry. She walked down to the Laundromat loaded the machines and walked over to buy soap. The machine gave her back her money and the soap. She had an extra dollar. She started the clothes and walked next door to the taco place and treated herself to a burrito. There was a man sitting at an outside table, he smiled and offered her a place to sit. He looked like a mountain man, thick build but not fat, longish hair and beard. She sat at his table and they made small talk. He was on his way to Death Valley for work. He was moving from Oregon making a new start. They chatted, she left to put her clothes in the dryer, and looked out the window, he was still there. She walked back over and they talked some more. He offered to take her with him. What the hell, she thought, here is the answer. She had her clothes and a quarter in her pocket, got in the man’s truck and stared down the freeway. He told her he would take care of her if she took care of him. Seemed like a fair deal at the time.

She was on full blown self destruct at this time and was looking for a change. Besides she had a quarter, she could call someone if she needed help. It seemed that fate had lead her to him, if the machine hadn’t given her back her money, should never would have bought the burrito and never would have met this guy. This was supposed to happen.

But what she didn’t know then, is that when you throw your life to the wind, you never know which way its going to blow. Not all things happen for a good reason. Fluttering in a breeze with no faith, no love makes you vulnerable to all things, not just the good ones.

Things went well for about a week. She was bored and took a job in the concession stand for the national part. The mountain man got jealous of her talking to other guys. She worked in a restaurant, she had to be friendly, and besides it was her nature. But he got uglier and meaner. They had employee housing there, and her plan was to get a room as soon as one was available. There were a group of employees that traveled from nation park to park working the seasons. She thought she could get a ride to the next one as she had made a few friends. A room came up, and the plan was set. She would move in the next morning. She didn’t tell him, there was fear to his reaction, but he was acting worse, somehow she felt he knew.

That night she had what she thought was a strange dream. He was choking her, both hands around her neck. She couldn’t figure it out. She was not awake, but not asleep either. Things were going dark, the panic set it. He was killing her. She started to struggle. Then it came, it was loud, it was persuasive. Do Not Move, the voice said, Be Still. He will not kill you. Just Be Still. She listened. She had heard this voice before, long before, before the dream, during the dream, it was the dream. The thought barely finished and she passed out.

She woke the next morning, threw her stuff together and ran down the road to the concession area. She had been crying, her neck was bruised, and she looked like crap. But her heart wasn’t as heavy as it should be. The gift was still there, her protector still cared. Perhaps it was now time she do the same. Perhaps.

Wild Empath Chronicles A truth

Wild Empath Chronicles A truth

She clutched the invitation in her hand as she walked down the long hallway looking for the room on the card. She is in a convention center, the corridor was plane, industrial type carpeting in grays and blues, light walls, with dark molding around the door ways, every now and then an easel with a placard telling the name of the event going on in the large room. She read the invitation again, it was a strange request, the boards were buzzing about it all. Some one had offered to allow them all to meet, air fare was provided as well as mystery of the reason for them to meet. It was surmised that it was one of them too humble to admit their wealth that wanted to just get them all together.

There was a surreal feeling to it all, like a dream, and perhaps it was. She didn’t care, it was something to do, a new adventure. She found the room, and as soon as she stepped inside she could feel the energy. She let it flow through her, around her and took in what felt good, and blocked what felt “off”. She was an empath practiced in dealing with this type of thing.

She stepped up to the table set up in the front of the room, and was asked for her name. She could feel the people behind her, knowing they were wondering who she was. She dressed simply in jeans a nicely tailored white blouse, her favorite distressed leather jacket, and boots. She wasn’t pretty, but had long hair that fell to about the middle of her back. And just as all young women learn with they relies the power of being female, she knew how to display her assets to the best advantage. She was fit, and confident in her strong points, and didn’t worry too much about her weak ones. She signed in and instantly felt his energy. As she turned they locked eyes and he came towards her. She looked down and there was an odd feeling in her chest. Her white blouse was streaked in red, a jeweled dagger protruding out of her chest.

He came to her, and for the first time she saw his smile, a true wicked grin. No doubt the intent, but it was not one of malice. The nature of it all was just dark. He stepped up to her and removed the dagger in one quick motion, and leaned down and licked the wound clean. With the taste of blood still on his lips, he held the back of her head with one hand he kissed her hard. He held the pressure there until she relented and surrendered to her need. Even though his lips were pressed against her she could feel him smile. She opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her, she raised an eyebrow in question, and he backed off and smiled again. She answered his smile with a small grin of her own, almost a dare. Thoughts were the same, one of interest, and one of fear, a very interesting combination.

They were alone in a crowded room of people. The found a place to sit, but no words were spoken. He was lost in thoughts of conquest and plans. He had tasted her, and knew she was honest but not pure. He didn’t know yet what avenue to take with her, but she would get what she asked for.

She tapped into him, and he was open, she got through the hard ass exterior to find the heart. She saw it in a cage, constantly reaching for love it just could quite grasp. It would strain and stretch through the bars, and just barely touch the outer edges of love, but never get a grasp or hold of the elusive emotion. There standing near was a gate keeper with the keys to the cage, jingling them softly, with a smile on his face.

The gate keeper spoke the same words he always did, “you want out to feel the best life has to offer you must learn to forgive those that have caused you harm, and learn to love yourself. Should you ever find a way to do so, I will unlock your cage and you will be free to love and be loved, but not until.”

The rage the heart felt was immense. There was no way it could forgive all the wrongs done, all the unkind, unfair things that had been done to it. It screamed for the gate keeper to acquiesce, but he just looked down, crossed his arm over his chest, leaned up against the wall and let the rage go around him. There was no chance of that gate opening with out the trial of forgiveness or the self love. It was as obvious as gravity and the sunrise, and nothing could change that fact.

She looked at him and sighed, she felt so sorry for his pain, and wanted more than anything to ease him from it all. She though of others she tried to help, to show them that love was available. And through her own musings, she heard her own gate keeper laugh. She had long since quite trying to reach trough the bars, quite dreaming of the day that she could touch love, knowing she would never live long enough to forgive all that hurt her or ever learn to love herself. “Fuck off”, she said to him as he jingled the keys.

Just a day

A thunderstorm is brewing, the wind chimes are singing their song. The air is tingling with ozone. Of course I just got my watering done.  :)

So it's an in the house day. I ran out and picked milk thistle heads and have them in the dehydrator so they will give up their seeds. From what I have learned those seeds are the best natural healer of the liver. I will probably make a tincture out of them, or maybe crush them for capsules. Not sure yet.

I have a lemon balm hydrosol doing it's magic in my canning pot as I type this. I hope to get about 16 ounces out of this batch. How awesome that would be for a summer time pick me up in the morning. I'll add it to the dandelion oil I made recently to make a gentle skin cream. 

I am going to make a Rosemary hydrosol next and make a cream for my mom. Rosemary is the memory herb in aroma therapy, and she is having trouble remembering things do to her dementia.  I am hoping using the skin cream everyday will help.

I gave out samples of my Dandy skin cream and got great feedback. Guess I'll make more of that too.

What a fun day in the kitchen. I want to get this kind of stuff caught up before the garden starts producing. Then it will be all about canning and drying my harvest.

Sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong time! 

Have an awesome day today, do at least 3 things that bring you joy. 

Peace
Tammie

Wild Empath Chronicles - Protection part 1

She woke from the dream again. She was only 8, a small child, but felt like something was wrong, like she had done something wrong. She couldn’t put thought to it, it was beyond her understanding, but it had a taste, a smell, a feeling that encompassed her whole being, but she didn’t have the knowledge to know what it meant.

She was hurt, somewhere that never hurt before. She didn’t know how it happened, but she remembered words, feelings, fear. It lingered, but there wasn’t even enough of it to ask what it all meant. The dream occurred now and then, as time went on it started to fade. The one thing she knew, it would not happen again. From this point on she handled all her problems on her own. She felt she was alone, that it was up to her to see herself safe.
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She was lying under a large tree, looking at the clear blue sky through the canopy of large green leaves. She must have fallen asleep, but did feel someone near here. She slowly opened her eyes, and saw a man looking at her long tan legs, then his gaze traveled up her slight body to her face. He saw her as a tall woman, she was 5 foot 8 inches, a budding young woman, she was but 12 years old. Lean and tan, sleeping under a tree in the grass, near the stables were she kept her horse. The boys had been teasing her, trying to get her in the barn, to “play”. But that play didn’t feel right to her, it reminded her of something, but she couldn’t remember what. Now here she was watching this man look at her and that feeling, the taste, the smell, the dream came back.

When his gazed traveled to her face, he looked stricken. His face changed from one of intent to a look of sorrow, shame. She wanted him to help her, but she didn’t ask, she just knew he would. His smile was tentative, almost nervous. Hello, my name is Tony, he said. He asked how old she was and she told him. He offered his hand and helped her to sit up. He asked why she was out there alone, she told him of the boys. He looked angry, but asked her to show him her horse. She stood, he was surprised how tall she was, and how young her face looked. He strolled behind her never touching her, but near.

As she rounded the corner the oldest of the 3 boys that had been bothering her, rounded on her, and started to grab her hand. Tony grabbed his arm, but didn’t say a word; the boy was terrified of the look on the man’s face. She was pleased; she knew he would help her. She looked for the honor in the man, the strength to help her and he did. Tony came by the stables a couple days a week, to see that she was okay. He made small talk and she learned he was 19, and he thought she was older. He had a kind brotherly smile for her, but never harmed her, or anyone else for that matter. He would just look at the boys, and soon they stopped bothering her.

He asked why she spent so much time at the stables when the boys were so unkind to her. She told him that even though they were mean it was still better than being at home. Her parents fought a lot, and her dad had moved out. He had new girlfriends and her mom was drinking vodka until her mom got so sick she had to bring her a paper bag to throw up in. She took care of her two brothers after school, made dinner and did laundry, but anytime she got a chance she would ride her bicycle to her horse, and ride. Run down long dirt roads until the disappointment of her parents was far behind her. Until the responsibility of having to take care of her brothers was just a thought and she could dream the dreams a 12 year old girl should.

Tony was the first time she realized she could get help from strangers. She would send out the need, and the honorable one would heed the call. She never asked for help, she sent word for the right person to come to her aid. She learned there were many good people in this world that had good hearts and a need to help others. She sent the thought with her heart and mind, looked around, the one that would help her looked her way when she did this. It happened quite often, as she was not supervised as she grew and matured. She had no role models, no boundaries and often found herself in less than favorable situations. But for every bad person there was always at least one good one, if not more.

Looking back she saw how stupid she was. How foolish to party with wild abandon and not think anyone would try to hurt her. Looking back she was surprised she was still alive with all the chances she took. She called them her big brothers, some she knew, most she didn’t. Many men have the want or need to help those smaller or weaker than themselves. Many have good hearts and feel for those in trouble. She did seek only men as she wanted strength to help her, and assumed that men would be the best choice.

The last time she remembered using this gift was when her father died. She was no longer a child by any means. But she lived a different life and hadn’t the need for that kind of help in a very long time. His dying was an ugly affair, with hatred from his wife, the fear of losing the money the wife had married him to get. The wife said horrible things, did horrible things, and hated her for no real reason. There where never unkind words, just a threat, her father loved her. He wasn’t perfect, but the love was there all the same.

She went to the viewing alone. Her husband was willing to go, but she was used to doing things alone, and preferred it that way. She was prepared for the ugliness, but knew this had to be done. She walked into the small room in the chapel and saw the casket at the head of the room, her father was propped up so she could see his face, and she walked toward him. The hatred and malice was so thick in the room, it felt like she was walking through spider webs, and had to resist the act of brushing them off her arms. Her brothers were there, but made no move to console or help her. They had chosen to remain in the wife’s favor for the promise of part of the wealth.

She had been prepared for the unkindness and for the sorrow of her father’s passing, but to see her brothers, whom she loved controlled by the dangling of money, like a dog to a bone, the lack of self respect, was more sadness than she was prepared to handle. She was failing as she walked to the casket to take the last look of her father, to say good bye face to face.

She involuntarily sent out for a courageous soul to come to her aid. It had been a long time since she had done this and almost surprised it happened. She stood looking at her father, she touched his face to feel the coldness of his dead body, an affirmation he was truly gone. A hand covered hers, and a man she didn’t know was standing by her side. He asked if he could pray with her for a moment, and they held hands and said a short prayer of peace. He smiled, and asked if she was going to be alright. He then introduced himself as the wife’s brother, and gave her his phone number to call if she needed anyone to talk to. He said it was sad to see her there alone, and when she turned to leave the horrible look on the wife’s face was so plain to see. The brother squeezed her hand and smiled. She walked out of the chapel head up, thanking God for affirmation of her gift, and prayed he would take good care of her father.

Wild Empath Chronicles Freedom

We are told of a life with no boundaries, no burdens. We are told we are allowed to fly free, unfettered by the confines of life. We check in with reality and the ego states loudly, yes! Yes! I want this freedom. Let us tear down the walls of confinement that hold us so neatly in place. The ego rises to the challenge, shouting and cursing the boundaries set upon this life. The spirit waits, hoping against hope that this can be true, hope, the everlasting life essential for all of mankind. 
 As the ego rails against the walls society has erected, balances the power of the spirit and takes a moment to see what these walls are made of. Brick, mortar, steel and glass, all strong elements but the ego is not daunted, it pulls from deep within and with every ounce of effort and the strength of the hope of the human spirit it blows the walls to pieces. But now all around there are bits of sharp stone, broken glass, pointed pieces sharp enough for arrow heads, the ego is crushed. The sight seen in the distance is one of great beauty, everlasting space and time. But one step on the broken shards would tear the foot to ribbons of bleeding flesh. If you were lucky you would make two maybe three steps and then be unable to go on, surrounded by nothing but those things that can give you great pain. Hope fades as you stay in your small safe circle, now seeing what is out there and unable to join with it, the freedom within your sight, but still inaccessible to you.
But wait the spirit whispers to the ego. It was you that built this wall, how is it that it has been built so fortified with such strong elements? The ego slightly appalled at the question answers, isn’t it obvious? What else could keep such a strong being so confined? It would take mighty things to keep freedom at bay. The spirit smiles and ponders for a moment. Brick, mortar, steel and glass are all things made from man. It is God that offers us freedom. What if, just what if those walls are made of our own emotions? Thoughts soft as summer sunshine that change like gentle breezes, what if this is what made of these walls? You, ego feel it must be something harsh to allow you to accept your captivity. But this is something of your making, not something that God gave us. What if this barrier, these walls have burst and all that surrounds you are gentle things soft as goose down, gentle as a lover’s kiss, lovely as a rose, what if this is what must be crossed to find this elusive freedom we crave. 
The spirit full now of hope takes a chance, one step. There is no pain, and greater hope ensues. The spirit takes another step, then another, the feeling of broken barrier tickles the spirit’s fancy. The ego is mortified. How could I be so foolish, how could I not realize that God would never want this body to feel so trapped? Spirit smiles and nods, it wasn’t foolish, we all just have to be ready at the same time. And together Mind, Ego, Body and Spirit stepped out into the vast expanse of time and space.

Wild Empath Chronicles - Evening Walk

I wrote this at a time I felt very misunderstood and unhappy. I was afraid to take that first step to a freer more balanced life. Today I have friends standing in the same place, fear holding them to those things they know and dislike, instead of trying to find what makes you whole. I hope those friends see this, and know they aren't ever alone, and there is better for you, but you have to take that first step. 



She was bored, and decided to go for a walk. It had been raining for days, and the ground was warm enough that the added moisture had turned the valley into a foggy realm of mystery. She knew there were coyotes and other dangers in the night, but cared little. She was past the point of worrying about such things. Past the point of caring. Something in her told her she was safe, that nothing would come near her. Not knowing for sure why, and not caring about that either.

She heard the crunch of gravel under her shoes, the night was chilly, but in her t-shirt she was warm enough. Something internal was tending to her, she wasn’t cold, no, she was numb. Numb to the temperature, to the dangers, to her own mind. Every thing was coming to a head. Her life was changing, things were opening up, gifts revealed. The things that at one time were of utmost importance were fading to the background, the need to be the best in her sport, the need to please those that can’t be pleased. Need of self was changing as well.

She stayed on the road, and rounded a corner near a pond. The frogs and crickets were nearly deafening. She passed a small ranch and could make out the black cows laying down in the pasture, then past another were the owner still had the lights on in the barn. Onward she walked, her mind comfortably numb, with just small wisps of thoughts grabbing hold here and there. Thoughts of how things are supposed to be. How do you know? If you don’t know why we are here, how do you know what you are supposed to do?

All these changes and it felt like she was trying to climb out of a crevice. Looking for foot holds and hand holds that at times would look sturdy, but would crumble with her weigh or fall apart in her grasp. She was up to the task, and looked forward to it, but there where those that didn’t want her to climb out, the wanted her to stay in the mundane world at the bottom. But she saw the different light, the brighter colors and the blacker dark, all variations that offered a more balanced life for their differences. She saw, there was no turning back now. She worked against the wishes of those that would see her dragged back to the bottom.

As she looked up she saw her friends, those that understood and had started making the climb before her. And the would offer a hand, give her a boost until they found that there was something about her they judged as unworthy, and the hand would fall away, and she would be left alone again. After all, the one thing you can count on in the human race, is that people will let you down. Maybe not on purpose or knowing, but they will turn you away or hurt you. It’s a given. You just don’t know where or when, that is the mystery part of it all.

As she got further along on her journey and higher up she found a few very special people that didn’t judge so harshly. The hands were offered, and she felt a more sturdy bonding, and helping that at times she would be able to rise above and give them a hand in return. These people became those that shared more than the journey with her, they shared there love and kindness and at times their thoughts and energy. They were friends she never met in the flesh. People that lived all over the world, but were no farther that a thought or feeling away. What an amazing thing, to never be alone, to have support and love always. She thought of those that wanted to hold her down, that laughed at the prospect that such a thing could be real or even important. Never will they understand, or know.

To know these people the differences were many, the likeness’s few, but the sameness shared was bigger that could be imagined. As she climbed a new hand presented itself, it was strong and bold, as they all were, but they were different some how. And from these hands she was shown a different world of travel and new self discovery, then hands of gentle kindness and healing were presented, and another of practical wisdom, one of energy charging and sharing, and the newest one of acceptance.

To be accepted as who and what you are is a gift indeed. To know there is nothing that happens that these people wouldn’t understand, or be able to shed light on the mystery of the newest experience.

As the gravel crunched under her shoes she looked up and was almost home, she had walked in the dense fog, with nothing but the chirping crickets and the frogs for company until she walked up the drive. She felt so free and so light, until she neared the house and the light feeling turned to sludge. Her foot falls got heavy, her way of movement slower like she was walking through mud, and she neared the front door it was with a heavy sigh she grasped the latch and went inside.