Galactic Maya

Glimpses into wider realities and observations during life on planet Earth

Page 15

 July 14, 1998:  Poppy’s arm bruises, those awful-looking bleeding areas all over both of his arms are completely gone!  Gone! And I notice that he hasn’t suffered those extremely difficult coughing spells for a few days!  It’s so dramatic a change that I just really wonder if we are experiencing a phase I’ve heard about from various people working with the dying and through books I have been reading, which is that within a few months before the dying make the transition, the physical body undergoes spurts of health that are incredible.  On the other hand, healing—well, healing is definitely occurring at some level.   Poppy, to me,  seems to have an appearance of translucence about him.  It is eery, but I am glad to see him feeling and looking so well, for whatever reason.

July 15, 1998: For two days now, Poppy has been full of energy.  He has even gone back to working almost full time.  He has somehow psyched himself up to a great extent.  He is unbelievable, and I admire his courage.  Is he going through some great period of healing?  Is that possible at this stage?  I don’t know; frankly, I don’t care to know.  He is happy and comfortable, and that is all that matters here.
July 16, 1998: Know what is so beautiful about life?  The knowledge that every single moment brings the promise of something totally different; surprising, happy, sad, adventurous, unexpected, new, inspiring, tragic, challenging.  And THOUGHT is what creates the next moment!  Pure thought!  The potential for self-empowerment here is awesome!
About 30 minutes ago, I began to sense a happy anticipation.  Just knowing I have a clean slate or canvas to paint on in the next moment is suddenly very exciting!  What’s going on here?  Am I now ill and my father well?  What are my mind and my emotions bracing for, here? 
I’m feeling quite positive, yet quite charged that a major change is almost on top of me.  Poppy?  Maybe, but it feels like a multilayered set of circumstances, but staying in the moment feels to me particularly important right now, so I don’t miss anything.
(Later): This scandal surrounding President Clinton has gone beyond laughable—it is downright Luke Skywalker v. Darth Vader!  For over six months, this administration has dodged one bullet after another.  There is a power struggle of monumental porportions going on, and it is going to dramatically reshape the political structure of America—of the world!   I personally do not belong to a political party; that term is so self-limiting .  There is no freedom of choice here, unless you want to choose between two sides of the same old used up coin.  
To me, these political “foes” are like lawyers—they put on this great show of antagonism in court and the people they represent say “Yeah! Go get ‘em!”  But in truth, these lawyers are most probably playing golf and planning who-knows-what together in their off hours. 
Why, oh why is the public so gullible?  We may have evolved in intellectual achievements, but boy, we have steadily declined in our ability to see through the illiuson of the last 12,000 years.
Anyway, as I watch these proceeds drag on, and on, and on….echos of the character Lucanus in Taylor Caldwell’s novel Dear And Glorious Physician come to mind. 
Lucanus, who is living in the time of the Roman Empire, reflects that republics become democracies, which inevitably crush into dictatorships. I believe that this entire concoction of a scandal is being played, WITH THE AGREEMENT BY BOTH SIDES, to try to condition humanity for a great and subversive attempt to unleash havoc on this planet.  Why? 
I suspect forces are at work beyond what we can understand—right now—but it will be revealed in the not-too-long future.   I feel it in my bones.

July 26, 1998: (2 a.m.): I did not know why, but Bandit was very persistent in nudging me, whining incessantly for me to get out of bed and into the living room, but he didn’t want to go outside.  Then, Cleo was out here with him and they were both acting as if their entire goal in life was to keep me here in the living room at 2 in the morning!  Once I came out here, Bandit blissfully stretched himself out on the floor and Cleo on the coffee table. 
I tried tiptoeing back to my room, but they were at my feet in no time flat trying to corral me back to the living room.  I finally put them both on the porch where they just stopped, looked at each other, and then they looked at me.  Neither one seemed to know what to do.
Okay, I let them back in, pulled out my journal to write, and the two of them just sat at my feet. 
Then, the phone sitting right next to me started to ring.  Agh! This will wake the whole house! I reached for it with lightning speed.  It was Aaron, calling from Oregon!  All hugs and kisses and I miss you so much Aaron.  He realized the early hour but he said he had a feeling I would be up! 
I just stared at Bandit and Cleo with my mouth agape as I listened to what he had to say.  He wanted to come by.  Said he feels it is time to pay Poppy a visit.  Uh-oh.  He’ll be here next week.  I’m going back to bed.  The cats can relax now.

July 27, 1998: Folding clothes this morning, it came to me to serve coffee to Poppy in bed, so I just did.  Poppy is still with us, which gives me more chances to say I love you.  Relief floods me, but there is a Light all around him.  He does not look solid to me. 
It reminds me of the day I looked at a newspaper photo of a little girl about to embark on a cross-country flight, (as the pilot!) with her father.  I believe she was about 11 years old.  Seeing the photo, I rubbed my eyes because to me, her lower extremities appeared translucent—not solid.  I knew something was wrong here. 
I learned the next day that their plane had crashed, killing both the child and her father.  I think that was in 1996.  Poppy has that translucence about him, but I still have a feeling he has a way to go with us yet.

July 28, 1998: Poppy just emerged from his room all calm and peaceful.  He sat down next to me and said:
“My transition is happening this week.” 
My eyes flew open.  
“I awoke about 4:30 this morning realizing that.” 
There I was again, all agape; not a word would issue from my mouth.
He perked up and said, “I need to get to work!”
“Poppy…uh…what happened?  What did you experience at 4:30 this morning that you…’know…?’ ” 
I grabbed my journal to write down what I thought were going to be profound words, awesome Spiritual connections, first-hand experience about transition making!
“My SSI insurance is running out this week.  I need to get back to work full time on a regular basis to get a transition to other insurance.”  He smiled, got up, and off he went.
I have come to my room and collapsed on the bed, where I think I should like to stay all day.  Agh!

July 29, 1998: I have been watching and listening to the press conference with Linda Tripp.  Aside from any perceptions I may have had based on negative press, I want to journal my perceptions based upon just this conference and her body language.  She speaks with her lips trying to be closed.  It appears to me like a struggle and effort to open them fully to form her words.  Maybe it is a muscular thing, but it feels like she is not comfortable with that she is saying.  She wishes she didn’t have to say these words because they contain falsehoods, I believe.  Highly nervous.  I would be, too, but if she really is talking from the heart, the fear would dissipate and I don’t see that happening.  If she is telling the whole truth, she should be sleeping well and feeling confident in her redemption.  Instead, she looks extremely not rested and her eyes are blinking rapidly. 
Way back in January, she stated that she thought she was “in danger”.  If this was so, why does she not talk about her reasons for feeling that way during this conference when she has the entire media floor?  That’s pretty crucial. 
Alas, Linda, Monica, Jennifer Flowers, Paula Jones, and the entire troupe of women here all have more than Bill Clinton in common; their strings are all being pulled by what I call the Great Puppet Manipulator Machine, that unseen dark force that could care less about the welfare of these women (have these ladies lost their self-empowerment completely?).  
If it is the intention of these forces  to lull us to sleep while they accomplish their real goal—world control—these women can do the job. 
I fall asleep after about five minutes of their whining. 

July 27, 1998: Aaron is coming by today.  I felt strongly that I should wear my long orange and yellow, strikingly bright dress.  It just kept coming to mind, so here I sit.  This dress probably glows in the dark!  Anyway, I am feeling right now like a little girl who senses something big going on around her but does not have the vocabulary to express it.  So I think I will stop right here.

(Later): Aaron took me for a buffet lunch.  He seems to think of himself as my respite, I suppose, but we did reconcile a great many issues.  I was at a loss for words when he suddenly interrupted me and said, “You know, you have made me a better man.” 
Yes, I am honored he said this, but for the life of me, I cannot imagine what was transpiring in his memories that caused him to say it.  Maybe it was that I was never impressed by his wealth—just the man.  Perhaps that is unusual for him.  For me, Aaron the man counted, not Aaron with independent wealth. 
One of our greatest issues had been his perception that to keep me, he had to impress me with buying things.  He found out that to me, “things” are just that.  What I am interested in is the Spirit of the man.  Anyway, Aaron is apparently going on a trip to the Fiji Islands and other native lands, such is his calling.  He did not know when he would return, but he felt that somehow, if I needed him, it would work out.  In the meantime, as usual, Aaron has now gone off to parts unknown.

July 28, 1998: Poppy came home this evening craving a thick milkshake.  He has completely dropped wine from his nightly faire.  He said, “I have to stop worrying now.”  That simple.  Now he wants a slice of bread with mayonnaise smothering it.   His body is craving fat; it is struggling with its survival instincts, I suppose. 
Poppy amazes me at every turn.  Someday, I know I will benefit from the great witnessing of this process of death and its Spiritual connections.

July 29, 1998: Since completing my Third-Degree Reiki training earlier this month (so profound, I have not been able to record the experience yet), my body has been going through a cleansing of sorts.  My body fluids and intestinal system have been undergoing some intense toxin release, and it has not been so comfortable physically, but I welcome it and I honor it with the understanding that my body is releasing a great deal of old baggage.  And why not?  Certainly, my emotional baggage has been opened up and under examination for several months now.  It only follows that this physical body of mine will follow suit.
(Later):  Using the tools and symbols that came with my Reiki teaching, I attempted tonight to connect with Poppy’s psyche.  Of course, I had to ask permission before attempting it.  Anyway, it was a little difficult at first but then I felt a sudden connection.  The entire feeling was of being in completely empty space.  It felt cool in a void of some sort.  Then, my mind shifted gears and was asking for guidance.  Unexpectedly, I heard my inner thought inquire:  I don’t understand this about the raising of the dead.  Does this not go against the natural process of sending a Spirit back to its natural abode? 
The explanation I received was this:

One purpose for demonstrating resurrection was to show that man is still in a primitive state of creating disharmony through war and violence. The Soul’s intention was never to pass from the physical under the force of trauma. The natural world allows the Soul to enter and to leave as peacefully and freely as the oceans ebb and flow. However, the concept of violence has created unnatural disturbances. The demonstration of Resurrection was to enlighten man that the natural soul can overcome these disturbances when imbued with peace and natural unconditional love. The Soul never sleeps. The lower Self must overcome its belief that it must wage perpetual war in the mind-thought.

I was then refocused on Poppy’s psyche/Spirit/essence.  I immediately felt him partly in another world, far more than he was here with us.  I saw  part of a leg and a foot still extending through an opening and meeting me on this side.  My sense is that Poppy is “practicing the leap” while in his sleep.  Maybe that is why he had a favorite saying through the years that sleep was just a rehearsal for death.

August 04, 1998: Poppy and I worked on a grocery list this morning.  Most all his requests were sugary items like Sunny Delight and ice cream.  This sure sounds like his metabolism is breaking down more rapidly now.  I remember in the first several months with Poppy here, I was always trying to force him to eat what I thought would be nourishing meals.  How selfish is that?  Poppy knows what he needs for the journey he is about to take. 
Besides, it seems lately that Poppy has been experiencing more and more visions of food being handed to him from some plasma source.  I’m not the only caregiver here.
(Later): I seem to be into body language lately.  I just watched an interesting exchange of body language between a Democrat and a Republican on Crossfire.  Both were debating fiercely.  Then at a brief pause, Joe Kennedy Jr. put his hand gently on the shoulder of his “opponent”, Rep. Boener.  I noticed that Mr. Boener’s demeanor became much more relaxed, more able to laugh a bit.  Interesting.  Reiki energy produces such, too.

August 06, 1998: The” Monica Story”  is at full steam.  You know, the stock market is sliding up, down, and sideways, the weather worldwide is creating havoc, Saddam Hussein has created another tempest to occupy everyone, American Embassies are being bombed—and here we sit, listening to a DNA expert discuss Monica’s dress—more to the point, the substance that was allegedly left on her dress by our American President. 
This is so sad, I am ready to burst out into uncontrolled laughter.

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Written by Galactic Maya

March 15, 2008 at 8:21 pm

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