Muscle testing workshops. Learn kinesiology with Laurie Fraser, energy healer

2020

2020

I hate shopping. By the time I got around to buying my dehumidifier, it had been on a to-do list for months. As I walked up an entire aisle of dehumidifier choices in a big box store, I could hear an older couple discussing square feet, hose vs. bucket, cost and size. Their conversation petered as they watched me rub my index finger and thumb together in front of each brand. The box that “tested yes” for me was middle of the line in size and price. I loaded it on a cart and walked away. The woman shook herself and called after me: “Did you do some research on these?” I grinned and shrugged, “No, just muscle-testing.” The dehumidifier has worked out perfectly.

Our energy comes into contact with other energies constantly, a million times a day. Why do you feel wonderful after meeting some people and depleted after even a brief exchange with others? Certainly all living things are imbued with different energies (or frequencies). When you pick up a pear, it has a different effect on your energy than a cigarette. Even an organic pear will test stronger than a non-organic pear. As it comes into your energy field it will either strengthen it or weaken it. If you could read that effect, you could make an informed choice before buying or eating.

More and more people with allergies energetically test their foods. As I walk along in the grocery store, I rub my index finger and thumb together. When they “stick” (or test yes), I put the food in my basket. It’s a simple test in a restaurant where the server can’t know all the ingredients. I test the items listed on the menu (I don’t need the food to be right in front of me) and then order with confidence.

All energy healing depends on communication between the practitioner and the client’s energy. This is done by intuition or muscle-testing or both.  I use muscle-testing which is quick, easy and infallible. Muscle-testing takes me through a series of menus and sub-menus, finally ending at a specific procedure (I know many and when I learn something new, it is added to my menu (or list of available healing options with me). And so, any procedure I do on a client, has been requested by their energy. It is never a decision made by me.

And so a client’s uncomfortable symptom will be treated the way his/her energy requests by leading me through menus and submenus until I reach the healing modality that will work. (Because what is that energy that fills and surrounds your body? That energy that never dies? That communicates easily and knows all the answers? Whatever you call it, it is very intelligent and knows you implicitly.)

It’s fascinating. As I gain experience, I am stunned to see how many of our physical woes are caused by emotional energetic blocks. For example, when I “lock in” (or address) a problem like herpes, I am led by the person’s energy to many causes: a virus, a depleted root chakra, a fear of love, and a bad break up fifteen years ago. All of these causes can be cleared energetically. (Heal the energy first and it will lead the body to health). I’ve addressed heavy menstrual flow and gone to a healing menopausal procedure. But the cause of the disturbed hormones and glands has always been emotional: a miscarriage, adolescent experiences, a fear of losing control, coming from a line of women who were unable to cry and so bled instead. All of these things can be cleared energetically and the symptom alleviated.

I have successfully addressed all sorts of pathogens, diseases, pain, allergies, infertility, emotional and spiritual issues, fears, insomnia, depression, anxiety, past life issues (a behaviour pattern or physical symptom is related to a past life trauma) and much more.

When I had lyme disease (notice the past tense) and the doctors didn’t know what was wrong with me after 15 months of  specialists and almost unbearable symptoms, it was a B.O.S. practitioner who tossed a lyme filter on me, muscle-tested, and said, “You should ask for a lyme test.” (A filter has the frequency of, in this case, lyme bacteria, in it, and it will either muscle test positively or not- resonating with bacteria in the body, or not. No different than a pear.) My medical treatment (antibiotics) lasted over a year, but included regular energy healing sessions which determined many contributors to the illness. It addressed a mean bacteria, that’s for sure, but also deep grief, old events, and a lack of spiritual perspective. It brought immediate pain relief.  To my doctor’s astonishment, I was on antibiotics for a year, not the predicted two.

I had been receiving energy healing treatments for a couple of years before it occurred to me to ask, “What is this energy that is communicated with? It’s intelligent. It knows me better than me. Is it my soul? Higher Self? God? Universal energy? And why do I ask only health-related questions?” At the end of my next session, instead of asking about supplements as usual, I gave my practitioner a list of a hundred archetypes and asked which ones were mine. He muscled-tested eleven positives and I went home and studied them, their lessons, their effect on my life. I began to ask questions like: “Is it in my highest good to take job A or B? Is in my highest good to be in contact with this person? Is it my highest good to learn Qigong, get a dog, pursue this relationship, change careers, paint the bathroom?”

But I was dependent on my healer for answers and saw him only once a week. When I learned muscle-testing myself, my life changed once more. I am in constant communication with my energy. My guidance is always with me, but I’ve learned not to be overly dependent on muscle-testing. My intuition has developed and my confidence in intuition has grown as I verify it by muscle-testing. That doesn’t mean life got easy. What is in my highest good, is not necessarily the easiest route. But even on the narrow path, I have constant communication and support. And I’ve learned that I’m always fine and the best thing for me, always happens. I have learned how deeply I am loved; the importance of my every thought, word, and act; the impact decisions have on my health, energy, joy and progress.

Absolutely anyone can learn the simple skill of muscle-testing regardless of age, belief-system, or state of health. I believe it should be taught at school, along with reading and writing.

MUSCLE-TESTING WORKSHOPS:

Two to four people, three hours, $65.00.

Leave a comment or reply below.

Get together a group of friends and enjoy a fun afternoon filled with healthy snacks, practical exercises and clear effective small-group learning.

Or just contact me and I’ll put a group together- you’ll meet like-minded people for sure!

Managing Emotion

Trillium

Trillium

Emotions enrich our lives, but they are meant to come and go, always ebbing and flowing in a natural rhythm. Gibran wrote “Together joy and sorrow come and when one sits alone with you at your board remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”

Sometimes emotions get stuck, and we have trouble letting them go. For so many reasons, we hang on to our emotions: nostalgia, fear of change, enjoyment of secondary benefits (eg- sympathy, assistance, attention…) Sometimes getting stuck in an emotion saves us from looking at what’s under it. Or what’s next.

Emotions are meant to pass through us. When they get stuck, it is usually in an organ or chakra. Generally, smokers are sad; drinkers are angry. That’s because sadness and grief get stuck in the lungs. Anger mostly gets stuck in the liver and the bladder (pissed off), but some anger settles into the digestive system. Anger shows up in the root chakra when it’s about money.

I remove betrayal and despair from hearts quite often. Worry and overthinking tend to build up in the spleen. Fear finds a home in the kidneys. I once removed fear from the third eye of a person who had lost touch with their intuition.

Examples:

Removed paranoia from the kidneys re: covid and lockdown

Removed betrayal from the heart re: past partner & trepidation about a new love.

Removed fury from the liver of an alcoholic re: childhood abuse

Removed anger from root chakra of a client with hemorrhoids re: divorce & finances

Removed grief from smoker’s lungs re: wife’s death

Removed anxiety from stomach re: conflict

Removed fear from the kidneys re: job search.

Removed self-doubt from the solar chakra re: finding her path

The problem with emotions getting stuck is that they then resonate with similar emotions in the future making them seem more intense. We call these our “triggers”, right? If a supervisor criticizes and your reaction is to feel like a 4-year-old, the experience is resonating with old emotions. If your only response is tears or paralysis, well, those old emotions are really interfering with your ability to keep the boss’s criticism in perspective.

When your children leave the nest or you go through a break-up, does it resonate with every other time in your life that you felt abandoned? Are you coping better each time it happens? Or worse?

And so we’re back to that old image of the full glass. If your energy is chock-full of anxiety, the next visit to the dentist is going to put you over the top. If some of that old anxiety is removed, the dentist becomes much more manageable.

A woman who I worked on telephoned to say, “I don’t yell at cars on the Queensway anymore. And I’m not holding anything back. It’s just not there. I just don’t feel angry.”

Another client sent this email: “We had a session a year ago… I really have had positive life changes since then. Thank you for that. I don’t have night terrors anymore. I quit all drugs successfully.”

There are many ways to remove emotions from our bodies. I do it energetically. You can do it by letting emotions flow through at the time they happen. This is a conscious choice. Joy moves and so does despair. Don’t let emotions stagnate in the body. They can cause illness. (How well do organs fight cancer when they’re burdened with emotion?)

Emotion, especially when it’s flowing, is truly musical, adding a dimension to our lives that can be exquisite: the deepest love, the sweetest empathy… awe, inspiration… even the gulping tragedy of loss is exquisite when we allow ourselves to feel it, fully feel it, and then move on.

_________________________________________

Laurie Fraser is a writer and certified BOS practitioner.  $90.00/session. Email: thewordnotspoken@gmail.com

appointment info here.

 

freckled face

today my amaryllis bloomed orange

dotted with red.

today is the first day of a war.

on tv, a soldier with green and beige spots said,

“they honestly think it’s an honour to die for their country

and we’re going to give them the opportunity.”

it’s an honour for him too, I hear.

when I sleep I dream of children

splattered with blood,

the amaryllis

big as a freckled face

jan. 16, 1991

Walking out of Lockdown

Walking out healthy, that is. I don’t know if lockdown left anyone unscathed.

Energy healing examples:

Marnie, aged 39, survived lockdown with 2 adolescent boys and her husband working from home.

  1. calming procedure, removed generalized anxiety.
  2. Look and Fix procedure. I am clairvoyant. I saw things in Marnie’s energy asked her energy whether they should be removed. Generally, the image represents an experience or emotion.
    1. I removed red (anger) and water over her entire body (overwhelming sadness).
    2. I removed chains from around her feet and wrists, a collar from her neck (lack of control and freedom) and some pots and pans. (She says the kitchen work was “unending”.)
    3. There was a dog in her aura and her energy wanted him to stay. I described him- small, black, barky. She said it was Bailey who had died several years earlier. (Sometimes I see things that the energy does not want removed: flowers of all kinds, musical instruments, babies, totems… The baby and dog are not really there- it’s love, a memory only.)
  3. Holographic healing. Marnie’s energy directed me to her root chakra. I pulled out a holograph of a dining room table, many people around the table, very crowded and chaotic. Not enough chairs for everyone. My job when seeing a holograph is to fix it. In turn, the chakra becomes less burdened, the body healthier. In this case, Marnie’s energy directed me to add chairs, make the room & table bigger, give everyone some space. Then I blew the darkness / black away with my breath and replaced it with red, the proper colour for that chakra.
  4. Holographic healing on kidneys. I saw a red wagon with only 3 wheels. The client was “fearful about moving forward”. Kidneys hold fears. I put a fourth wheel on the wagon, greased wheels.
  5. Past life healing. Marnie’s energy took me to a vision of her life 5 lifetimes ago. She was male, Asian, and stuck behind a locked door. It was a jail of some sort. I unlocked the door & let him out, but, as well, I cleared the emotions from that lifetime. It was resonating with covid restrictions, making it more difficult for Marnie to cope.
  6. Sugar Correction. This a Biocomputer Operating System procedure to assist the body with sugar detox. (Ya, I think a lot of us fell into poor eating habits during lockdown.)
  7. Calming procedure again, this time specific to “job search”.

Results:

Marnie has updated her resume. She reports fewer butterflies in her stomach and more patience with teens. (She has healthier kidneys too, but that is preventive stuff- removing emotions from organs results in less-stressed organs. eg. grief from lungs, anger from liver, loss and sadness from hearts, nurturing issues from breasts.)

I do only what the client’s energy directs me to do. I communicate with their energy with muscle-testing and clairvoyance.

Flora, age 71, vaccine fears, anxiety, dizziness, breast cancer survivor.

Her father, who crossed over several years ago, attended the session. He had a message of support and love for her. Her reply, through tears: “Thank you Papa. It means so much to me!”

  1. anti-anxiety procedure (general calming)
  2. trapped freeze trauma from giving birth years ago removed. (fear of hospitals)
  3. trapped freeze trauma from illness at ages 45 – 47 removed. (mistrust of medical professionals and procedures, cancer trauma)
  4. holographic healing on root chakra. (I repaired a broken house that represented her body.)
  5. Past life healing (death due to infection, age 37, female, born 1642, East coast of South America.
  6. Look and Fix (medical paraphernalia, a car accident, various stuck emotions- all removed from her aura.)

Results:

Flora reports: “I’m calmer than I’ve been in over a year”.

_________

Laurie Fraser is B.O.S. certified, 14 years experience, $90. subsidies available

thewordnotspoken@gmail.com

first published in Tone Canada Magazine, July 2021

 

Disappeared Deer- a short story by Laurie Fraser

Disappeared Deer 

for International Women’s Day,

lest we forget the missing and murdered indigenous people in Canada.

When Wolf howls at Moon, it is said that all Disappeared Deer hear their names. He howls each name, and they know he is looking for them; they know they are not forgotten. Their mothers and fathers hear their own anguish when Wolf howls. Wind joins in then, wailing and moaning around trees and dens, calling out their names with Wolf: “Ada, Ruth, Cheyenne, Alissa, Rhonda, Azraya, Edna, Marilyn, Cheryl, Delaine, Beatrice, Gladys…”

When Councillor Wolf howls the names of Disappeared Deer, most animals in Bangan Forest stop to listen. It is respect for missing deer, but it is respect for Wolf as well. Strong, black… and always alone, Councillor Wolf is their protector.

The Deer Clan is experiencing a heartbreaking crisis: deer, usually females, are disappearing. It’s been going on for years.  disappeared deer

The Council of Seven have met, of course, many times about Disappeared Deer. Experts have been brought in, studies studied. Theories abound, most of them involving foul play, humans and poachers. Councillor Eagle can’t let go of the UFO angle and he is harshly judged for his alien theory, but to be fair, Eagle does fly awfully high, sometimes quite close to Sun, and occasionally he reports seeing things that the residents of Bangan Forest can hardly believe.

At Council, evidence has come to light that supports the tricking theory. Daanis Deer was only an adolescent when she told her friends that a human had offered her a job dancing in Town. Her father had forced her to dance from a young age, so it was natural for her to think of herself as a dancer. Daanis was especially pretty with little white freckles on her nose. Males admired her gorgeous legs and long supple neck.

“She said his name was Mr. Human,” Daanis’s friend reported to Council. “He told her that he owned some dance clubs and vegetarian restaurants. Daanis said he was really nice to her, like a boyfriend. He gave her a whole box of sugar.”

Another missing deer named Nindaanis had told her family that she was going to visit some friends in Next Town, but she had never arrived. No one knew what happened to Nindaanis.

“It’s a long journey between towns,” Wise Beaver pointed out. “Anything can happen out there. Land between towns is not protected like Bangan; travel isn’t safe for deer.”

“They’ve probably been shot by human hunters,” said Councillor Turtle. He was concerned with truth and it was he who would be the one to speak the most difficult words. “They may be in freezers and on dinner plates all over the country.”

“Daanis talked about dancing opportunities in far off places like Greenland and Japan and Las Vegas. She was quite excited about that,” said her friend.

“Japan has plenty of their own deer,” said Eagle, who had been there.

“Mr. Human said Daanis was especially beautiful. They don’t have deer that look like her in Japan.”

“You see?” said Wolf. “It’s a type of trap. If one deer didn’t come home, we could imagine she is settled in a new home. However, it’s not one deer- it’s dozens now. How could so many disappear without a word, without a message sent home to their families? Obviously, they are not working at jobs or travelling to exciting destinations.”

The Forest Boys were asked to come before The Council of Seven and advise. The Forest Boys are a loosely organized group of minor criminals operating in Bangan Forest. They’re mostly involved in sugar smuggling. Membership includes elk, raccoons, coyotes, weasels and badgers.

It was Fat Badger who spoke. “We are aware of humans contacting deer and offering jobs or gifts of sugar. That happens in Outer Meadow usually, or in the ditch on this side of Danger Road. Sometimes deer want the sugar so much that they go off with the humans. We don’t know where they go. We try to convince them to stay because we want them eating our sugar, not town sugar… but they tell us it’s free in Town.”

“How can sugar be free?” asked Wolf.

“I know, that’s what we say, but they’ve made new friends. They’ve been promised.”

Ever since hearing Fat Badger’s testimony, Wolf pretty much lives in that ditch. All day he watches for new friends with promises and job offers that are too good to be true. He watches for fake new boyfriends who are too generous to be true. He watches for young deer who are uncertain of their path, who are especially beautiful with white freckles on their noses. He watches for hunters with guns and camouflage hats and refrigerated trucks.

He is one frustrated wolf. He spends his days watching from ditches and meadows’ edges, but Wolf has not found even one human handing out sugar and telling stories of fame and wealth. He has not returned even one female deer or fawn to Bangan Forest.

It’s still a mystery, the facts are not known, dozens of females are lost out there- maybe as close as the nearest Town, maybe as far as a stage in Japan. They might be travelling the world. They might be trying to get home. There’s a chance, and no one except Turtle is willing to acknowledge this possibility, but there’s a chance that they’re dead.

All of us here in Bangan Forest miss these females very much. They were supposed to grow up here, helping us, as deer do, with pruning and so on. They were our future Council members and who knows- teachers, ballet dancers, firefighters.

There’s a chance too that they are singing and dancing in your town.

Could you keep an eye out for these dappled deer with gorgeous legs? Their mothers want to see them. Their fathers feel helpless. Wolf howls their names every night. You can know them if you listen: “Loraine, Nashie, Shelley, Minnie, Verna, Spring, Laura, Savanna, Jordina, Viola, Margaret, Regis, Mitzi, Rebecca, Paula, Maxine, Theresa, Vivian, Mary, Tashina, Sarah, Robyn, Patrina, Melissa, Lynn… “

After he howls the names, Wolf runs around Mother Earth, circles her every single night looking for Disappeared Deer in towns and forests and bus stations. Moon assists, but even so, Wolf could use a hand at this point. I mean, if you see some pretty female deer on the street, please, just take a moment and ask: “What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you want to go home?”

Deer at Mud Lake eating Sumac

Deer at Mud Lake eating Sumac

Wild and Blue- a short story by Laurie Fraser

Wild and Blue

a story from Bangan Forest

Blue Sky was skinny and sharp and blue. That about covers it. He was no more than 2 inches tall, thin as a pin, sharp nose, pointy hat, blue skin. His skin was losing colour. I mean, he was born bright blue, but a decade later, he was more the colour of faded jeans. He’ll die young – all fairies do – and he’ll be translucent by then.

Blue awakened early in anticipation of Corn Moon. She would be full tonight. Blue climbed out of his bluebell blossom bed and slid down her stalk. Grass was taller than Blue. He pushed blades and stalks aside and made his way to Echinacea who had some drops of Morning Dew on her petals. He washed his hands and face in Dewdrop. Since it was a special day, he pulled off his pointy blue boots and washed his pointy blue feet too. It tinged Dewdrop blue, but Dewdrops are used to these fairy effects. I mean, sometimes, if you take the time to notice, dewdrops resting on Sweetgrass and flower petals in the early morning are many different colours: pink, green, gold, violet… depending on who’s been washing in them.

Deep Summer had a way of making everyone believe that she would never leave. She settled into Bangan Forest like a fat human in a double-wide chair: heavy heat spread into every nook and cranny. It seemed it would be too much of an effort for her to ever pull herself out. Temperature was already torrid as Blue picked his clothes for Corn Moon’s celebration. He picked 3 clover leaves and wrapped them around his body. His belt was Blade of grass who wound around his waist 3 times, that’s how skinny Blue was. He topped his outfit off with his blue felt hat. He’d worn that hat every day since he found it hanging on Tiny Twig, forgotten by a long-ago fairy. It was a bit sticky but that’s because he used it to filter maple syrup in Spring.

Blue gathered food for breakfast: fibre from Dandelion’s bitter leaf sweetened with honey drips from Bee’s hive and milk from Milkweed. After he ate, he sat on Earth and wrapped gifts to share at the celebration. He put several honey drips in the middle of Buttercup’s blossom and then folded her petals over one by one to protect the tacky treasure. He was building a pile of these sticky yellow gifts, absorbed in his task, when:

“BOO BLUE!”

He startled even though he knew who it was immediately. “Wild! Don’t scare me like that!”

She giggled. “What are you doing?”

Blue showed her the sharing gifts. Wild had brought a little package of Primrose Pollen for the party, but she sat down beside Blue and helped him wrap Honey Drips. Soon they were both covered in honey up to their elbows. By then Morning Dew had evaporated, so they gathered the sharing gifts up in a sack and headed to Cricket Creek to wash up. The sack was heavy, but no dragonflies were around to help, so Blue and Wild held the sack between them as they doggedly flitted up and down, at the mercy of Breeze, all the way to Cricket Creek.

Wild checked her reflection in Water. She had fresh Daisy Blossom on her head, the white petals reflecting Sun and keeping her cool. Her enormous eyes were violet- smokey violet. Wild had picked a white party dress- 2 fresh rose petals. As always, lavender filled her shoes and pockets; lavender flowers tangled her long hair. They were even in her ears. Sometimes she woke up with lavender petals in her mouth! All of that was because she slept in Lavender Bush. Her full name was Wild Lavender, and Blue Sky adored her. She looked good and she smelled good, but most important of all, she was his best friend.

Once they were all cleaned up, they flitted over to Sunny Rock. Sunny Rock was wide, low and flat. Sun loved him and they were always hanging out together, making themselves quite popular with snakes and dragonflies and fairies. This morning, Sunny Rock was covered in fairies who wanted a ride to Little Clearing. Red Dragonfly Service was working non-stop, but there must have been 20 fairies waiting. Blue took Wild’s tiny hand in his and they flew down Elk’s Path a short way to get away from the crowd. A few minutes later, he flagged down LuLu Butterfly, and they were on their way.

Now, fairies will celebrate anything. Their lives are short and jam-packed with joy. Every single moment is worth celebrating in a fairy’s life. They celebrate new moons and full moons. They celebrate every new plant, every death; they celebrate the first fruit and the last fruit.

If you see a wild strawberry plant and there is a fairy ring around it, a ring where the grass is lighter and thinner, you can be sure that fairies danced there. You can be sure that this plant birthed the first strawberry of Summer. Fairies never eat that first white berry, even once it turns red. Well, no one in Bangan Forest does that, for all have agreed to abide by the Honourable Harvest rules, one of which is: Do not take the first one nor the last one.

This day Corn Moon would be full and Little Clearing was full of fairies: fairies in summer dresses, fairies in supple leaves, fairies in flower blossoms, fairies with no clothes at all, fairies with acorn lid hats, top hats, garden hats…

Wild and Blue took their sharing gifts over to Buttercup Clump. Many sharing gifts had already arrived: pine needle baskets and pouches too, dried salty plants from Old Swamp, soapberries from the other side of Bangan Mountain, Dandelion straws filled with honey and milk, Lavender from Outer Meadow, a wide selection of feathers, some White Birch syrup, a few flint flakes.

“How blessed we are in Bangan Forest!” said Wild.

“Plenty,” smiled Blue. He wanted to kiss her. He kicked the toe of his pointy blue boot into Earth. “Plenty blessed.”

“With food and friends,” Wild said. She wanted to kiss him, but she just took his hand.

The friends flew over Goldenrod and Asters. Little Clearing was busy, but it would be downright crowded with fairies by Nightfall. Some friends lived here, like Morel Mushrooms and Pond, Rockin’ Rocks and Lilypad Knot. Others travelled a long way for the festivity. Wood fairies, River Fairies and Mountain Fairies were all here, gathering to gather together.

Fairies celebrate the moment because they live in the moment. Although there was plenty of chatting, there was little actual news. Fairies don’t care about the past and they have no faith in the future, so for them, it’s just now. This Day’s news was that Corn Moon was full. No gossip. No fake news. No fearful imaginings. The only news a fairy needs is what to celebrate today.

Hummingbird had contributed to the buffet and she was a remarkable cook. Always humming, Daisy stuck behind her ear, Hummingbird loved to prepare festive foods. For Corn Moon, she had prepared corn muffins, corn panna cotta, corn chips, popped corn kernels, charred kernels, and creamed corn. No matter how much fairies ate, Hummingbird would dart in with more delicacies: candied crab apples on branches, pine nut brittle, candy floss clouds. To cut through the sweet treats, she served the tart tastes of Deep Summer: fresh blackberries and blueberries and ground cherries.

Blue filled 2 glasses with Nectar and brought one over to Wild who rested on Queen Anne’s Lace. He thought she was exquisite with her violet eyes and white rose petal dress, her long lavender braids and Queen’s throne. She reached out one delicate arm to take the drink.

“To this moment,” toasted Blue. It was Fairy’s Toast; it was always the same.

“To this moment,” grinned Wild. She thought he was spectacular with his blue skin and Clover clothes, his pointy nose and fancy boots.

Their glasses clinked as if they had kissed.

You would think Wild and Blue would kiss then. I mean, fairies don’t waste time. They cherish every moment. Like flutterbys and butterflies, fairies don’t live long. It’s their wings, their delicate wings. They are dripping fairy dust, dropping fairy dust everywhere they go. Enchanted dust that grants wishes, heals hearts and wields magic. So little precious dust, so little precious time. Because of this, fairies savour moments.

For sure, you’d think Blue would kiss Wild or maybe, Wild would kiss Blue… in that moment, that toasted moment… but they did not. All afternoon, Wild and Blue chose to sit side by side on Queen Anne’s Lace, holding hands and waiting for Corn Moon to show up. Who’s to say they didn’t savour every moment?

Deep Summer remained hot when Dusk arrived. Corn Moon showed up early; he was ecstatic to be full. He poured love down upon Mother Earth and all her life: plants, rocks, animals, humans, fairies. Moon loves all without judgement. If you exist, Moon loves you; it’s that simple.

Forest fairies and River fairies and Mountain fairies all danced in Moon’s light. Fairies love circles and Little Clearing was full of fairy circles: big circles, circles within circles, overlapping circles. Wild and Blue held hands as they danced, their wings beating faster than Hummingbird’s. Spirits were high. Fairies were drumming; fairies were strumming. Grasses swayed, flowers bobbed. Night Breeze was filled with petals and giggles and merriment.

Most feet were bare and not touching Earth at all. Fairies spun in pirouettes. Precious dust flew off fairies, sparkles sparkled. Fireflies joined the light show.

Each fairy was glowing their own colour, and as they circled together, they became halos of light. Pink halos, blue halos, golden rings rolling up into Starry Sky. Dancing fairies swirled like Saturn’s Ring. They whirled like Galaxy. And they were no less.

Wild and Blue were born of this place, Forest and Sky. Mother Earth’s love and Corn Moon’s love were one and the same to them. The love they had for each other was no less.

Corn Moon saw Wild and Blue dancing in her light. She saw sweet shyness in their hearts, and she pulled them close to her. Wild and Blue rose through Starry Sky on Moon’s beam. And so it happened that Corn Moon kissed Blue, and then she kissed Wild, right on the lips.

Still holding hands, they slid down Moon’s beam, back to Mother Earth, back to Queen Anne’s Lace.

Oh yes, you’re right. It happened there and it happened then, Blue Sky kissed Wild Lavender, or maybe Wild Lavender kissed Blue Sky in Corn Moon’s light. It was a tiny little kiss, and it changed the world.

How can one tiny fairy kiss change the whole world? Every kiss does that. Every kiss changes the world.

tree spirit

 

Debwewin River – a story from Bangan Forest, by Laurie Fraser

Debwewin River

Oaky Dokey’s testimony was the most interesting, just because he was the oldest witness, the oldest by far. Oaky Dokey was 436 years old. Can you imagine? He has seen more than 5,000 full moons. He remembers when Bangan Forest had no borders, when there was nothing but trees and rivers and rocks; nothing but animals and birds and plants.

Oaky Dokey wasn’t the oldest tree, Black Gum was even older, but Oakey Dokey had spent his entire life beside Debwewin River with his roots pushed right through River’s North Bank, his gnarly toes in water every day. He was the best witness to what had happened to Debwewin, and so it was his role to come before Council and talk truth.

The case had been brought before the Council of Seven by Debwewin River himself. He cited his right to be clean. Council had come to River to hear witnesses on North Shore.

Oaky Dokey grew on a small crest; River was slightly lower and water was wide here. Long Grasses loved both water and land; they danced all over North Shore. Spectators and supporters had trooped over with the seven Council members and they stood around in small groups. The situation was critical.

Oaky Dokey had a gravelly voice. “From the time I was a boy, River has been my friend, cooling my toes, quenching my thirst, growing my leaves, fattening my acorns. We are entwined and my health depends on him.”

“What changes have you witnessed over the years?” Councillor Crow led the questioning.

“Before Town was built,” said Oaky Dokey, “changes were seasonal: flooding, freezing. Current moved around and Sand Bar was erratic, but the quality of water never changed. Spring streams fed Debwewin fresh melted snows and he was clean. Since Town arrived, I sometimes see garbage in River: plastic bags and cigarette butts. Sometimes there is a smell or a pool of oily substance floating on top of water and she can’t breathe then, through that oil.”

A surge of agreement erupted from groups of deer and beaver and heron.

Ducks quacked loudly from River and frogs pumped their fists. They hated the oil slicks. Trout had already testified about the smell. Goose had brought evidence: one of her babies was all sticky.

“Flooding has increased,” continued Oaky Dokey, “and streams come earlier now that Heat has intensified. Year after year, it is too warm. But the dramatic change has been recent, ever since Town humans built pipes and culverts to join Town water with River. Town water is dirty- brown and smelly- and it mixes into River, our pristine Debwewin.”

Stream testified next. “More animals come to me now because I am clean, and I taste better than River. They are depleting me.”

Councillor Turtle was concerned with Truth and so it was he who spoke next. ”Debwewin River has the right to be clean. It is his birthright. More than that, Debwewin shows us our true selves when we look into him. This truth must not be distorted by garbage or oil. Water must be clear.

This very council uses Debwewin River to show wrongdoers the truth of who they are. It is essential that water reflects clearly for the health and good function of our community.”

Councillor Wolf raised his bushy eyebrows. “May I remind you that Mr. Fisher is waiting for his day in court.”

Everyone already knew that Debwewin River’s case had been pushed ahead because of the Fisher case. There was no way to help Mr. Fisher when there was no Truth to be seen in Debwewin.

“Clearly there is an urgent need to rectify the problem,” Councillor Wise Beaver spoke up. “I’ve been out to the site a number of times. It is a matter of re-directing that sewage water back into Town. Give me a team and 3 days.”

It took 3 days of stealthy work and 3 nights of manic work. It took 45 beavers, maybe 20 or so turtles, and a slew of muskrats and otters. It took about a hundred otters, but you’d swear it was a thousand the way they swarmed the project… and wanted all the credit too at the end.

Wise Beaver’s design perplexed Town humans. It was weeks before they realized that their dirty water was being recycled right back to them. Wise Beaver had blocked the pipelines with dams so that dirty water couldn’t reach River. Otters’ slides and tunnels re-routed that Town water right into the water tower on the edge of Town.

Councillor Eagle took Debwewin River under her loving wing and he healed rapidly there. The trees and plants and animals poured love and gratitude into River as he quenched their thirst once again.

Mr. Fisher’s case came to Council and it was agreed that the time had come for Mr. Fisher to stop hitting Mrs. Fisher. Crow walked with him to Debwewin River, and Fisher looked at his own face in water.

Debwewin showed him the truth of who he was, for when Mr. Fisher looked in water he saw himself as a boy. A sad boy; a scared boy. He saw his father hitting his mother. Then he saw his father as a boy. A sad boy; a scared boy. He saw a teacher hitting that boy. And then Debwewin showed Mr. Fisher another truth. He showed him Little Fisher, his own son, sad and scared, growing up and hitting his wife.

Mr. Fisher saw all these truths in Debwewin River. He understood that he was a hurt fisher; not a bad fisher. Like all animals in Bangan Forest, Fisher trusted Debwewin River, and so he believed the Truth of who he was.

Humans figured it all out, of course- they are the clever ones. The Town workers unblocked the pipelines, bulldozers ripped apart the dams and tunnels. Garbage flowed directly into Debwewin River once more.

So, Wise Beaver’s team got back to work.

And then the bulldozers came back.

Just when it looked like the cycle would never end, a teenage human posted a few pics on Instagram. They went viral- did you see them? Pics of beavers at work, bulldozers at work, sewage flowing into River, trees weeping, ducks unable to fly with their heavy oily wings. Those pics were shared all over social media.

A reporter came and interviewed Oaky Dokey, Wise Beaver and Town Mayor. Mr. Fisher was on the news too. He explained how Debwewin had shown him his true self. He had taken his hurt to Eagle who gave him so much love, that he came to forgive himself and his father too. But the most important interview was with Debwewin River himself. It was the first time a river had been interviewed by a human.

The media exposés about the cycle of waste made people angry. Humans in Town gathered outside the mayor’s office. They pumped their fists like frogs. They pumped their fists for frogs… and oak trees and fish and fisher families. They protested for Debwewin, the truth of the matter.

And so it came to pass that Town workers installed some expensive machines that clean water. Beaver Team became a consulting firm, much in demand in Town. Mr. Fisher became a loving husband; Little Fisher grew up to be peaceful too. And Debwewin River’s rights were upheld- the right to be clean, the right to be treated as a living being, the right to be his own true self.

© Laurie Fraser 2021

Stream Knows – a story from Bangan Forest, by Laurie Fraser

Stream Knows

It was one of May’s cool damp mornings. Fawn wore a beige sweater and an acorn necklace, but nothing on her legs. Her legs were so gorgeously awkward that no male of any species could pass by without gawking at them. Frogs and herons alike admired Fawn’s legs.

She came soundlessly out of Bangan Forest and stood for a moment where Long Grass began. Peace was all around except for Baby Jay squeaking for his mom. Turtle was beside Stream, acting like rocks. His dark eyes peered at Fawn from under the brim of his cap. Turtle was a sucker for legs, but he posed no threat. Fawn stepped over to Stream.

Her exquisite legs were on display as she splayed them apart and bent her mouth to Stream to drink, her saucy white tail in the air.

“Thank you,” she said to Stream, “you quench my thirst.”

“I’ve been gaining weight,” said Stream. “I could fill a camel.”

Fawn lifted her pretty head and looked around. At this point Stream moved slowly, hanging out with little pools and inlets, but further down Stream, rocks would break water into tiny white waves, causing Stream to spit up like a baby. She was small by nature, not a river, but Stream was long, and she knew mountain meadows as intimately as she knew Bangan Forest.

“I don’t know about a camel, but my brother is just behind me,” Fawn laughed her tinkling little laugh. The whole family needed Stream, and they visited every day.

Stream was birthed by Spring herself when Sun came closer each year. Sun hugged Snow with his many warm arms. Snow would melt with love for Sun and take off running and playing all the way down Bangan Mountain. And so it was that baby streams were born all over the place.

Sun hugged everyone- ice and snow, but also tree trunks and winter sleeping places. He woke bears and groundhogs and turtles. Old friend Rain came back as he always does, even Sleet showed up once in a while.

This Spring, Stream had grown until she felt quite large. Deep curves developed, pockets and eddies came into being. It was because of Sun’s warm kisses that her body was constantly changing. Stream adored Sun and would do anything for him, give him anything- even her own self.

Stream and Sun had a complicated relationship. History. They had kissed before- this wasn’t Stream’s first trip down the mountain, after all. Sun hugged the others- snakes and lizards and baby robins- but Stream was the one he kissed. Stream was special.

Stream freely admits to silliness and poor judgement those first heady days with Sun each Spring, when Pussywillow sang her songs, and Crow seemed to fight with everyone. Every year, Stream would expand and stretch under Sun’s attention, her little ripples giggling, her fingers reaching and reaching for more. She would rush and chase and take some crazy risks choosing her path, but streams are like that.

Of course, Day would grow longer then, and Sun had plenty of time for Stream. Stream could count on Sun to shine on her, warm her waves, glisten her peaks, reveal her precious stones. She loved to give to him- vapour, mist, wet kisses… whatever he asked.

The animals of Bangan Forest would come to slake their thirst and to feed too, for small fish frolicked in her. Stream slowed down with Summer and she gave to all who needed her: dragonflies, moose, clouds.

It wouldn’t be until late summer, but sooner or later, every year, Stream would give too much to Sun. Conversation would dry up first, and then it would come to pass that Stream herself would become quite weak. Sun became hard then, and he would dictate her path. He refused her soft kisses, and it broke her in places. Sun would glower and glare as Stream thinned. Bushes often grew nearby, gaining size by late summer, and she would try to hide under them. Sometimes clouds protected her. Rain rarely helped.

When Sun did bother to show up, he was cold and distant. He didn’t have much time for Stream. She would miss him then and call, but if Sun did pick up his phone, he made excuses: he had to work overtime, he wasn’t accustomed to Stream’s constant babbling.

The truth was that Sun had other streams. Spring was always arriving somewhere, causing melts and havoc everywhere she went. I mean, Spring is famous for that. In Paris or on a tall mountain, Spring will mess you up.

And this hard truth meant that Sun could not be present for Stream when leaves fell. Deserted every Autumn, Stream would cry until she was dangerously thin. Some years she barely survived, nothing but a frozen trickle on rock-hard ground.

Winter was good to her though, holding her safely in his strong arms every year. She could always count on Winter for some stability. He brought the Snows, and they guarded her too. She would rest there until Sun came nudging around again.

Oh, he was confident! He could play guitar and of course, being Sun, everything revolved around him. Beautiful, charismatic, he reached every year, reached for Stream.

“Not this year,” Stream would say, her icy thin arms still tight around herself under sleepy slopes of snow.

“Deer is thirsty,” Sun would tease. “She can’t drink ice.”

“She can eat snow!”

“Aww c’mon, Stream. Her babies are coming.”

“Not yet, they’re not.”

But Sun would flirt, you know how he does it- a clear ray right into an eye, a breaking smile, and then the hug that she had been missing… warmth.

“Sweetie,” he called her.

You could say that Stream never learns, but Stream would answer that she always forgives. Stream would say that she loves the cycles of life, the coming of Sun with all his mania, and the leaving of Sun with all his peace. Stream would say that when love encircles us- we must revel in it, expand, and when love has more important things to do- manoo, let it be, take a nap.

Stream knows about this, the cycles that always circle- seasons and water and love.

© Laurie Fraser 2020

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On Leaving the Body (What happens when you die.)

From What I Can Tell, the part of us that leaves the dying body is what you know as your Self. When I was 9, I thought that I would change when I became a teenager, but I remained exactly the same person. I thought that adult me would be different again, but it is not. The part of you that doesn’t change over the years- that’s the part that leaves the body and doesn’t die. I call it my energy or my Self or my Godself, but it is also called the soul, the higher self, universal knowledge, spirit. This doesn’t die, and although we are all connected in that we all affect each other tremendously, we do retain a sense of our individual self after death.

Just before leaving the body, some people have a chance to review recordings of this life located in the chakras. I believe that these holographic records are then filed in the Akashic Records. This is the traditional “movie of your life” but the focus is on how you made others feel, the impact you had on the lives you touched, including the plants, animals and planet. This is almost like watching memories- it is not to be confused with later reviews of goals, progress, karma, healing, etc. accomplished in this lifetime.

We leave our body feeling whole and we get help to show us the way. It can be a loved one or several loved ones, angels, guides, totems, or other. It will be the one you pray to. If you have a relationship with Jesus, he will be there. If it is Ganesh- he will be there. Sometimes we see only a pillar of light or a tunnel of light. If you feel unsure, just pray and help will arrive before the prayer is even completed.

It is best not to look back. When your loved one has died, the greatest gift you can give is to tell them  over and over: “I love you. I’ll be okay. We will look after each other here. You go now, as far as you can go, into your own Light. Don’t look back. Pray if you need help. Go, my Love. I’ll see you after your journey.” Actually, “Congratulations” is appropriate.

(Whatever you do, don’t say: “I can’t live without you. How will I manage? Don’t leave me.”)

When we leave the body, we feel fondness for it, almost a nostalgic love, as we would feel for a boat that had once carried us across an ocean, now irreparable and scarred. How well we know the eccentricities of the vessel: the surprising strength, the sensitive greenstick fracture. So, we say goodbye to this body with gratitude. Free from the constraint, pain and emotion, we slip out like a puff of smoke.

Once free of the body, we feel only love, lightness of being, an ease, a freedom. We do have things to do at that time and help will arrive as needed or requested. Generally, there is a variety of possibilities that I’m aware of, and I assume there are many more.

I have seen that you could go to a void. I found it so pleasant there, that I would have loved to stay. It is an emptiness, but not a hollow emptiness, more of a silence and solitude that can be wonderfully soothing if you’ve died feeling depleted, maybe from giving too much.

If you move past the void, there are giant buildings that look to be made of glass- but it is more of a translucent light- something that you can put your hand through, yet sit on if you like. (I sat on the steps of a library to meet my husband who had passed years before. The steps were made of that light material, as was the huge library.)

Or you could close into yourself and be miserable with grief or darkness or guilt or remorse. You will need saving in this case, and someone will come for you. If you are able, pray for help. Some beings in this state chose to end their last life deliberately.

Or you could go straight to another dimension- I’ve seen only 5th and 7th.

Or you could go to your “home” which is the retreat connected with your Ascendant Master.

Once you have crossed over, there is a time period of 40 days that will involve debriefing & healing. You might spend time in giant healing crystals that look like tanning beds. My understanding is that there is no real judgement, hopefully not even from our Selves. However, we were born with goals & hopes already in place on day 1.

For example, you were fated to meet your abusive husband from a previous life. Except this time, you had the power: you were the daycamp leader, and he was an obnoxious boy in your group. So, you had an opportunity to balance karma, to choose compassion instead of aggression when in power. How did you do? Did you hate that kid and the two of you made each other miserable all summer? Or did you find a way to like that boy, even give him some power? Did he find a way to trust you?

And so, in these forty days, we have counsel while we review our last life and consider what was accomplished, or not, and what damage was done… to the planet, other beings and our own selves.

I see us signing off on the lifetime and the record is then entered as a holograph in a book embossed with our true name. I have opened my book to random pages. Instead of reading the story of that lifetime, I see a holograph that pops up from the page- it’s a lot like watching a movie. (I don’t know if this is the Akashic Record or Library.)

How I Know This: I have seen these things in meditations, healing sessions on dying clients, and during teachings here and on the Other Side.

Desert Rose Meditation:

This happened while learning a stone.

I chose to learn a desert rose because of a life-long fascination with the desert. I’ve acquired many desert roses over time- I just love them. The stone is originally a collection of sharp edges that become worn soft by the wind, until they look like beige-pink roses.

I held the stone in both hands and felt a surge of love for it.

I laid down and held the stone in my left hand. I felt pinpricks all over my body.

I put the stone on my navel, and I could see sand and sand dunes. (I thought I was making this up, so I moved the stone to my heart.)

I felt despair, deep unfixable sadness with the desert rose on my heart and I began to tear up. (This surprised me, always a good sign that it is not just my imagination.)

I placed the stone my 3rd eye. I was lying in the sand, the sun setting, my camel beside me. Tremendous despair. I felt the blowing grains of sand needling my body. I knew that I would die here, the camel would die, and my woman would never know what happened to me. I loved her very much, and there were children too. A whole community, in fact, was depending on me for something that I would not be able to accomplish. I had failed. They would not get what was needed. Oh, my woman! I could see her standing at the edge of a village, her hand shielding her eyes as she scanned the horizon for me. She would watch for me in vain for months. The sand pricked all over my skin; I shivered uncontrollably. I had failed; they would suffer.

I rose up out of my body with wonder and surprise! How easy it was! No pain. In fact, there was no sadness. The despair was gone. I felt peace. Finally, after the sand and wind, I felt a stillness and silence.

I fell back into my body and the pain. Now I could notice the stomach cramps, the weakness, my throat like it was closed or stuck, the sand hitting me and hitting me, my woman, the guilt.

I lifted out of my body and floated above. Peaceful. Watched the sand bury my small body… and understood that I am the earth, that many of my bodies are part of the earth.

I went in and out of the body all night.

The next part of the meditation is to sit up and look at the stone. It took me a long time to stop shivering and sit up. I opened my eyes and looked at the desert rose in my hand. Beautiful. I closed my eyes. I saw a giant red rose and it came so suddenly with so much love that I burst out crying. It came with a message: “We love you! We are so proud of you. It’s okay that you didn’t bring help. Everything works out fine, all the time. Only the love is real.”

The message wasn’t: “You are forgiven,” because there was nothing to forgive. But I felt forgiven and that was what I wanted. Relief.

The red rose was fresh, wide open, a few drops of dew on juicy petals… to someone who just experienced a desert death, well, it was one of the most beautiful sights of my life.

Thank you, Desert Rose.

desert roses

desert roses

On stones, From What I Can Tell

From What I Can Tell, rocks and stones are alive. They are able to communicate stories and their own history. They absorb energy. By that, I mean that they can absorb emotion and happenings and later report those things. Rocks, stones and crystals are willing to share this energy and knowledge and it can be used for healing among other things. Also, stones can tell us stories about our own selves, even when we come into contact with that stone for the first time.

Stone Bear

Stone Bear

How I know this:

One summer my teacher/healer took a small group of us to an old abandoned farm. Her friend had been using the land for medicine wheels and moon ceremonies, but we went on a dry sunny day. She told us to go and communicate with the plants and trees, off on our own. The women disappeared down paths and through meadows. I was fresh off lyme disease and had a fractured relationship with Mother Earth at that time, afraid of being in nature. I would not be walking across a meadow.

I stuck to the widest path, once a farm road with low stone wall borders. I wondered about the people who had built this farm- the house was small and dark, the barns and sheds decrepit- no one had found their fortune here. In the sun, among birds and insects, I imagined a sweet simple life of weeds and greens, a cow and a horse, wild strawberries and sunny days… I sat on the low stone wall and traced over them with my fingers, listening.

The rocks told me about the days when the wall was built. I was completely surprised! It had been raining and very chilly, down to the bone. Three hard thin men did the work, one was younger. They were hungry and wearing dark clothes.

I knew that inside the farmhouse was as cold as the outdoors, the same feeling I had while living in a cave in Turkey (in the 90s). The fire would have trouble drying their clothes. The stones were placed in misery, “might as well work”, wet cold backs bent in the rain, day after day.

It was my first experience listening to stones.

After that, I learned to hold them and listen. (Instructions below.)

A desert rose took me to a lifetime in the desert when I died on a journey. I remembered the feeling of being buried alive in sand while my camel stood by.

I was male and I was overwhelmed with sadness about not returning to “my woman”. She would worry, would never know what happened. I had failed at getting what I was supposed to bring back; there were children too. I went in and out of my body all night. When I was out, I could look down at the little dune that was growing over me and see the camel and I felt only peace, then back into the body and the pricks of sand, overwhelming emotion, pain… then out- peace… then in….pain, sad…then out- peace

A pink tourmaline said clearly: “I will kill you” and took me a death by strangulation. Terrifying. Later I learned it was Boston, 1800s, attacked from behind.

A quartz gave me the sensation of rocking on water, floating with arms and legs splayed open, completely comfortable.

A smoky quartz took me to the void

An obsidian made me sob.

Just a piece of rock, I don’t know what it was, just from a walk, took me to grasslands, on a horse with no reins or anything at all, holding the neck and flying like the wind across fields and fields of tall grass, both us with long flying hair, feeling one with the animal. I was male, brown legs, the horse was darker than me, chocolate hair rasping my legs- I only saw down and ahead. We got to water eventually- I just jumped off the horse and went under a tree to sleep and the horse went off toward the water. What a sensation- I love to remember that.

Often, I just fall asleep. And from some stones, I learn nothing. Still, feeling them and giving them that time and attention – love really – is a wonderful feeling.

How to learn a stone:

Pick up a stone with your right hand, look at it/say hello/welcome, lie down and place it in your left hand.

Close your eyes and empty your mind (like walking on stones). Listen. Feel. You may feel emotion or a sensation somewhere physically; you might know something, hear something or see something.

When you are ready, move the stone to your navel. Listen. Feel.

Next, over your heart.

Then over your 3rd eye.

Sit up, open your eyes, cradle the stone in both hands and look at it again.

Give thanks.

Example:

My mentor died over a year ago and I miss him terribly. I sometimes manage to contact him, but not always.

One morning, I prayed to him (let’s call him John) and thanked him for the usual stuff. In a fit of loneliness, I picked up a crystal that he gave me years ago. I’ve always been a bit intimidated by it- perfectly clear like water, and quite large. This day, I decided to “learn” it.

I did it in front of the wood fire.

Right hand- tingling.

Left hand- body sensations, like weight, moving energy

Navel- sudden intense love, like a hug

Heart- vision of evergreen forest in the snow, me walking through it, so beautiful and calm, peaceful. I stayed there a long time.

3rd eye- John! Clear as day! I could see him in the mountains where he had lived, staff in hand, blue wool cap, goats all around him! He was herding goats or playing with goats… he was sure happy. I heard his laugh! His voice! I kept watching and I saw that there was an old-fashioned large ring of keys hooked on his staff. Behind him there was a place he goes regularly, where he is building something. It wasn’t clear- just a big deep place of blue in the horizon.

I asked John for a message for his wife and immediately out popped a giant blinking red heart like a cartoon. I asked another question I’ve been wanting to ask for months and got the answer I needed for my healing work.

I never thought of using the crystal to contact him- even when I was desperate to talk to him a year ago and couldn’t get in touch.

I shared the experience with his family, and they reported that he had herded goats for a time as a youngster and had spoken of it as a very happy time in his life.