Dancing with Devas

Rays of Life among all leaf matter, dapple down the way.

How is it that I can move through life, and yet not see it shift, not see how it settles out, not be in line with how things go?

“Well,“ thought Claris, thinking to herself that she may as well take up an offering to the mandates that govern how the existences take shape.

“I think,“ she pondered…

“I know,” thoughts beleaguered…

“Who is it that…,” she followed up.

“Well?” she questioned.

“Claris Deva….”

“It’s Claris and I’m not Deva.”

Silence.

“If I am Claris Deva, who are you?”

“Claris Deva….”

“You are…”

“Deva, of the plant, to the right of Claris Deva.”

“Deva, of the plant, to the right of myself, is a pointsettia. Is that how you refer to it?”

“Deva of the pointsettia plant, of the realm Devic.”

“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that this is what I have been meaning to discover. If I were to say that I have spoken to the Devic Realm, how would that hold water?”

“Devas don’t hold anything. We, our capacity is to hold the shape of something by merely setting roots, roots that don’t have a footprint. Roots that are boundless, sense-less, holding nothing and holding everything about an organic, living matter. If you talk to a plant, you are talking to the essence which makes it plant-like. Nothing in the Devic Realm is manmade. Everything in the Devic Realm is ‘of new’, ‘of reclaiming balance’, ‘of maintaining resilience’, but not in the face of destructive forces. Claris Deva, you are of the Devic Realm in that you see how things come and go and appease the Devic Realm with your tactics.”

“Devic Realm, what are my ‘tactics’?”

“Fortuition.”

“Claris, how about dinner?” says Fornay.

Under her breath, “I’ll be back with you later, Devic Realm. Bye now.”

“Claris, are you going to have dinner tonight? I’m starved. How about some fresh arugula from the garden? I’ll be back by in a moment. Pick some, alright? I have an idea for dinner. Surprise you.”

“Devic Realm,” whispers Claris, “alright to pick arugula?”

“Claris Deva, alright but not momentarily. Wait….”

“Claris, are you on board with arugula?” Fornay exaspers.

“Momentarily, Fornay. I’m listening for the go-ahead.”

Fornay listens. “How about now?”

Under her breath, “Devic Realm, alright to pick arugula?”

“Claris Deva, alright to pick arugula.”

“Fornay, alright to pick arugula!”

The End

Animals as companions, compadres, calm resources: Tapestry

It’s fingers, toes, and threads of life forced out through the movement of the brain stem to pick out the best way forth for the body to exacerbate its lead.

My thinking body frame is only a piece of the puzzle. There’s more, for when I maintain a momentum that flows instead of ebbs, meanders instead of leaves, and perpetuates the specificatory nature of who is inside…

“Meow,” says my cat, Recinda.

What has that to do with anything, you might ask. Everything, for it means that I heard it, picked up on it, acted on it, responsively gave back, and am nourished by it.

“Whoooeeneya,” says my horse, Wyndham.

How is it that I can transform my hearing a voice to that which is so rich with life. When I pick up on something that has to do with ‘love’, a transference of energy such that my body and mind are in interaction with each other, a mention that there might be something in it for me, then. My heels kick up, my contemporariness leads to placating my inner resolve such that there is motion, transitoriness, inflation, chronic joy!

If I happen to whisk myself by my goat, Balentine, and she hears the whoosh of the mental state of things as other than balentinian, meaning scrumptious, delicious, anticipating more than is right for a physical being to have happen in any space of time, there is a wandering sense that things are not as they should be. And Balentine, bless her, will take to a running leap and land dead in front of me:

“What on earth are you doing to yourself, may I ask you, Claris?”

“Balentine, how on earth can I ever thank you enough?”

“Claris, I thought that you would never ask in a million years.”

“Balentine, may I conform to your way of thinking? Hummm, I feel so much better now.”

“Claris, see that you do.”

Now, if it were Virginia, our goose, it would be all over the map, for she is a Wentworth. If there is something to go for, it’s worth her time and energy.

“So, Claris, if I were you, which I am not, and if there were more to talk about, which there is not, I might simply have a cold drink out of the faucet.”

And that’s how things sit for Virginia Wentworth.

“Still, I wouldn’t mind some understanding about Gil. He tends to roam about with nothing to say to me. Gil? Gil? Claris, you try and talk to him.”

“Gil, what is it about your nature that speaks volumes, and yet you are of few words?”

“Claris, that’ll do. And one more thing – I don’t mind being discerning.” And he waddled off, wading into the pool, being discerning.

“Oh, Claris, how can I find my way to the kitchen? It’s mealtime.”

“Gretchen, that’s a good question. I’ll find out for you.”

Meanwhile, Gretchen goes about looking for scratch.

They bust up laughing. It’s a great way to spend time on the farm.

The End

Death of a loved one: Bergen's Breadth

“If I were to tell you that I was going to die, would you still play with me?” the mother asked her children one day.

“Well, how is it that you will die, Mama? You are not so ill, are you?”

“I’m not so well. The doctors said that I have a particular condition which requires that I cannot control my destiny. It is set before me now.”

And so the children wept at their mother’s feet, and their mother dissolved into them.

Mama said, “I have a notion that I will always be with you, even after I have left my body behind. I feel as though we are here on this earth for a very short time together. When it is my time to depart, I will take up my soul and fly to the astral realm. How is that for you, children?”

“Well”, said Veronica, “I think I may not be able to express my mind, but my heart is throbbing.”

And Sol chimed in: “Mama, I don’t think that I can live without you.”

Mama pulled them close and said, “That’s an interesting point about relatives. We are so connected that we have absolutely nowhere to hide when something like this occurs. It’s as though there’s a knot with us inside. When one part of the knot is dispersed we don’t have the same knot. Luckily, we have other knots that we are a part of and so, if we take up another knot, we feel whole again. I bathed you. I fed you. I nestled and struggled and tossled your hair. How is it that you could forget. And that will never change. What will be in need of change is that, perhaps, I can no longer play the games that I used to play. I no longer have the energy. And there is nothing that can be done about it. However, we can develop new ones, like this one.” And setting them on their feet, started:

“Children, open up your hands and cup them in front of you”, she said, closing her eyes. “I resonate inside my heart and the juice of love penetrates my being. I hold my hands above yours,” she said as she winked open an eye to see where she was going, “and incline my energy such that if I were to pour my heart’s love into your hands, it would say:

I bequeath to you my joy and my love,

May joy and love be yours always.

Blessings, Mama.”

…The children were incredulous. They felt such joy at the prospect of a new type of game and a new recollection of their symptomatic heart throbbing. It was pure love that they felt for their mother and it shone in them through her example.

They took up a practice and became quite stellar at sharing their hearts’ flow with one another.

On another occasion, the children thought of a game of their own.

“What is it?” declared Mama.

“Well,” thought the children, “it’s better to show you, Mama.” And so they did:

“Mama, what would you say to an outing today?”

Mama said she would take them up on it.

Bedside, they told her the most marvelous encounters with great horned owls, gossamer-winged butterflies, and thick forests of trees.

“How did you like your outing, Mama,” they asked plaintively.

When she came back from her reposeful journey, she said, “I haven’t had this good a time, since the last time we played.”

They were ever busy, the three of them, making merry with the games they taught each other. Some were mirthful, some mercurial, and yet, all with the purpose of stealing time for their eventual parting.

“Well,” said Mama, “I really must be having a look at you both.” And she did. “Would you say that you could make it without me?”

The children burst into tears and ran to Mama in a panic. “I don’t think we could,” they said.

After she finished hugging them, she said, “Then, that calls for another game… When you are done with this game, you will never see my body as anything but angelic. And you will take up your swords of light to my presence by you forever. Do you understand that I am an angel, as you both are from the same realm, and once I am no longer in my body, I will take up residence alongside the both of you; see that you resolve yourselves every day to my presence as light. And take up your swords of light, bearing with them the good qualities that you both offer to the world… There. How was that game?”

They had such a time comingling their auras with one another. They flung their swords of light above their heads in a victory march. Mama watched on. And now, it was time for bed. As they dropped off to sleep, Mama repeated the words again and again to them, tossling their hair as she said:

“I bequeath to you my joy and my love,

May joy and love be yours always.

Blessings, Mama.”

And Mama passed away during the night. Her children nestled against her bosom and she was so happy to be returning to the astral realm. They had foreseen it, Veronica and Sol, for they felt the angels reclaiming their very own, Bergen. She followed the path of light in her realm, atop Veronica’s head and Sol’s sternum. Duals were like this…

And when the children awoke and found their mama gone from the body, they took up the plan but not without tears in their eyes – they, hand in hand repeated over and over again:

“I bequeath to you my joy and my love,

May joy and love be yours always.

Blessings…”

They halted, stared out into the universe, and, faltering no more:

“Blessings, Mama”

“Mom, we get it,” they said simultaneously.

“Mom, we know that you are near. It wouldn’t be anyone but you in our angels’ realm. It’s that way for us. We feel gratitude… We believe in you.

Blessings, Mama”

“Bergen,” said Samantha, “how did you fare this time around?”

Bergen, now feted with astral recollections of her joy of motherhood, reflected, “I think they’ll do alright.”

The End

Animals and passing: How Much Can the Heart Hold

When I think back to the time when I moved to Seattle, I was just finding myself able to cope with the loss of my cat, Ronnie. He was a chap who would parade around the house and all the other cats, 4 more at that time, would stand up and take notice. He, who like my recent chap, Christopher, was inclined to leap upon my paperwork when there was something awry. He, who like a soaring bullet, would stake a claim at my side when it was inclined that I take some sort of action that, unbeknownst to me, was inclining or inclined. And when I realized that something was up or needed doing, that my friend was the instigator of the notification.

When I think about my life with Christopher, I remember how it felt to reveal his head against my hand, or to come up short of his stance as I came to a standstill, or to run toys across the carpet only to instill his joy upon my heart.

And now that he is gone, I wonder how much the heart can hold, for it certainly belies my response to what I think, except that I know in faith that what it calls me to do is to relax around the grief, to send healing prayers to those whom he touched, and to revel in the experience that was mine for a short while.

He touched not only those who were known to be ‘animal lovers’ but also those who saw our interaction and realistically couldn’t make heads or tails of the meaning, but could feel the bond, the love, and the devotion that we had for one another.

When he was foretold to me to be the one who had come to help me through a difficult period of my life - because I saw on a daily basis that he helped me in so many ways and there was no disputing the fact that if I could rely on his poise in terms of where he stood and what he inclined me to do – that I could work on my healing and so could survive through a troubled time when I could not make sense of my health on my own because I was not listening to the wisdom of my body to tell me what to do so that it could heal and become healthy once again.

When I think about what was entailed to bring me back to health, I credit not only my family members and friends and doctors and practitioners, but also the reliable and faithful help from Christopher, who stood by me during the worst mood swings and unpredictable behaviors, patiently and calmly waiting it out so that he could move me in the direction of food, or water, or rest.

I understand now how animals can signal a seizure or other anomaly because I saw it with my own eyes. There is something that animals, in general, are able to see, and I would call it an ‘inner knowing’ except that what I realize is that it has something to do with how the body processes are related to what is next on its agenda, whether it be food, drink, rest, or other means. And so if I were to name it, it would occur to me that it is akin to mechanics of the body, a shift in its energy, perhaps, and so I would be inclined to call it ‘energetic perception’.

And so, I was constantly taking signals from Christopher, and what I found was that he was reliable, almost to a ‘T’. However, what I needed to do was to learn myself how to support the body insofar as feeding myself appropriately so as to incline it toward health.

I would care to mention that when Christopher passed away, I felt that he had done his service for this lifetime and that he was in need of a good rest! And I felt that when I could feel how it felt to have such a presence in my life, who faithfully day in and day out took the time and patiently waited, his back turned to me but intentional and forthright, that I had a very special presence in my life, one who knew what joy was because he expressed it so clearly to me, as the outcome of my understanding that what he wanted solely was my wellbeing. And when I was on the mend and could understand that to truly have health, I needed to diligently pay attention to all aspects of what I was taking in to myself, that then it was his time to rest.

When I think about how much the heart can hold, I can truly say, that as a testimony to my cat, it can hold an ocean of love and a fountain of joy and if I can even mimic a small portion of that which was given to me on a daily basis for many years, then I would say that I lived the right way.

Christy’s Garden Blog Revealing Nature: Introductory Remarks

Christy’s Garden Blog
Revealing Nature: Introductory Remarks

When we reveal ourselves to nature, we open the floodgates to presenting a wherewithal to become much more who we truly are.
I’m Christy Johnston and I would care to present a way of looking at health, behavior, and balance as a way of inclining oneself to the true value of one’s existence.
When I had an issue with my health a few years ago, I found that if I could tune in to what the body truly needed at that point in time, and if I gave it that, whether it be food, or rest, or exposure to some sort of remedial action such as a flower tincture or chiropractic adjustment or acupuncture treatment, that it would overcome anomalies such that balance was restored. And over time, that balance was more stable and had a better chance of restoring itself because the body was more in touch with itself as the ‘remediator’ instead of needing a push from some outside source. When the body is so resilient as to take up outside forces from exposure such as when traveling across the street from a supplement store or a grocery store or a nursery, it has the opportunity to balance itself, restore itself, incline itself to such a healthy place that it can withstand influences that would otherwise take its health away. If I were to say what it is that makes a body most inclined toward health and healing of ailments, I would have to say that it was being in tune with its needs rather than what we think we would like to imbibe at a particular time. If this is new to any of you, you might care to keep in touch with the reference material that will be posted on a regular basis. If you were to pay particular attention to how your body feels when you approach an influence such as food, drink, effect such as music or television, natural medicine such as a supplement or flower tincture, plant material, you may experience the body as its natural inclining force, like an antennae gives reference to a radar screen. In that, is the way that the conscious force of nature plays out through our manifested form, that it recalls from our spirit-nature, the way forward such that balance is a way of life and joy is its fulfillment.
Blessings,
Christy Johnston