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Posts from the ‘Precognition/Spiritual Experiences’ Category

CRE 8 IT INC.

I have consciously resisted “The Secret” ever since it was released many years ago. Not that I knew that much about it. It just seemed, I don’t know, hokey. But recently, on the cusp of starting my new business, MAMMASTE™, I’ve been filled with fear, doubt and anxiety. So I thought, “What have I got to lose by checking out the book’s message regarding the law of attraction?” I borrowed the book on CD from the library and threw it into my car so I could listen to it while driving.

A few days later, I was late for a breakfast meeting and I was rushing, driving faster than I should on the snowy, slippery Minnesota roads. The Secret CD was playing and the narrator was talking about how, if our inner dialogue is “I’m going to be late,” or “There’s never enough time,” we are creating our own chronic lateness. The trick was, the voice on my CD was telling me, to start telling yourself, “I have more than enough time, I have all the time I need.”

I smiled at the coincidence and decided to slow down and change my inner dialogue.  As I came around a curve in the road, a child darted out from behind a snow bank in front of my car. I hit the brakes and skidded to a stop in front of the child who froze, wide-eyed, just inches from my front bumper. He then turned and ran on. I sat there, my heart pounding, realizing that if I hadn’t slowed down a moment before, I would have hit him!  “What a fortunate coincidence,” I thought.

Later that same day I was heading out to a lunch meeting for my new business. The Secret CD was again playing and the topic was; “You are a creator.” The narrator was talking about how if we think about what we want to create in a way that feels like we have already received what we want, we can create whatever it is we desire. The essence of the message being, “You create what you want in three steps: Ask, Believe and Receive.”  I was thinking, “Okay, yes, it feels a little hokey, but I will apply this to creating Mammaste,” and then I looked up at the truck merging into the lane in front of me, and this is what I saw. My hand to God, this is a true story.

CRE 8 IT INC.

And that is all I have to say about that.

Mammaste.

There is so much divinity in the everyday.

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This blog post was featured in author, Phil Bolsta’s blog, “Triumph of the Spirit” and also on the “Secret” website .

In Every Face, The Face Of . . .

One morning I slogged down the stairs, feeling cranky and put-upon for having to make school lunches for my kids at 6AM, something I’d been doing for more than 15 years--with another 10 more years of tuna, turkey, or salami on the horizon. (I blame my five children for being born so darn many years apart.) It was with this self-pitying attitude that I tore the clear plastic seal from the top of the cream cheese and saw this smiling back at me.

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Crossing The Celestial Equator Into Light

Many years ago, during my darkest hour, I held a small grain of hope that there would be days like today. A still, clear, quiet, sun-dappled morning--children sleeping in upstairs rooms, an old dog curled at my feet. A populated solitude. Alone but not lonely. This is a day extraordinary in its utter ordinariness. I had faith and I am here and I am grateful.

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My Gift of Dreaming the Future

my dream child

my dream child

In my late 20’s, after several yearly surgeries and hormone therapies trying unsuccessfully to conceive a child, I had a very vivid dream.
In my dream, I was sitting in a large lecture hall filled with students. I looked down the slanted incline of seats in front of me to the professor. I raised my hand. I asked, “Will I ever get pregnant? Will I ever give birth to a child?” There was silence until one student at a desk a couple of rows in front of me turned to me and said, “You know that I will be coming someday. We’ve already decided this. Be patient.”

She looked Native American. She was a beautiful, slender young woman with long brown hair, olive skin, and almond-shaped dark eyes. When I woke I couldn’t understand how this person could ever be my child, as my first husband and I were both Caucasian.

So powerful and unusual was this dream that I wrote it down. Fast forward a dozen years or so. The dream is long forgotten. I am a divorced mother of two blonde haired, blue-eyed adopted children from my first marriage. I have already been told and have accepted that I will never conceive a child. My second husband and I are looking into adoption when at age 39 I become pregnant. My daughter Piper is soon born to me and my Chinese-American husband. When she is thirteen years old, I recognize the young woman who spoke to me in that dream so long ago.

Piper has always had a casual certainty that has never left her of the place from which she came before her birth. When she was three, she was sleeping next to me when I awoke with a start (that feeling of falling). Piper was looking intensely at me and said, “The angels came to talk to you in your sleep, but I told them ‘NO!’, so they put you on the ‘heaven slide’ and ‘plop’ you slid back into your body!”

I have had several prophetic dreams. Uncanny and unsettling premonitions of what was to come at major turning points in my life. One such “dream” literally saved me from death. I do not evangelize about these occurrences. I haven’t even talked about them much until now, but they have fueled decades of my own personal study of mysticism, religious theology, and shamanism as well as any possible scientific explanations. I am a pragmatist at heart. I look for logic, for proof, for rational answers. I have found none of these things–only more questions about those angels that still come to talk to me in my sleep every now and again.

A documentary aired (P.O.V. on Public Television) related to this topic. It is entitled, The Edge of Dreaming. It is a fascinating film.

“Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.” ~Rumi

“Follow the way of love and eagerly desire spiritual gifts, especially the gift of prophecy.” (I Corinthians 14:1) 

“A dream that is not interpreted is like a letter that is not read.” –Talmud.

Mammaste.

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