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  • #1406
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      I just ADORE the mummy icon!:mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :mummy: :games:

      OMG a whole busload of Italian mummys just came in wanting to play poker…..

      #1581

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      AvatarJib
      Participant

        OK I got a link to that serendipityfilly… ODAd about mandrake root, also known as wild lemon or racoon berry…

        American Mandrake Root is a strong and powerful purgative that has been used historically and primarily to regulate bowel and liver function. It is believed to be a strong stimulant that efficiently cleanses and removes waste products from the body

        We need that to let go of all the associations and bs :))

        #1575

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          A Deep Purple synch with Eric’s Roger Glover, lovey dovey joyous song because Deep Purple may have been in my dream Armelle – meditations, dreams, synchs, thoughts # 2”. (Rod EVans being the name of the person who handcrafted the wand and a member of Deep Purple for a while, of course I don’t know that the Rod Evans in my dream was THE Rod Evans, actually I only knew that about DP because I googled the name, oh Paris is on the news as I write this, is that a synch? Also where is Rod Evans now? nobody knows. Maybe he is going incognito as that mystery stone carver bloke. And then of course there is the purple thing with Jib :yahoo_devil: purple, not devil).

          Hmmm well that is a weirdo synch, :yahoo_feeling_beat_up: but no stranger than some of them. :yahoo_oh_go_on:

          oh this is a truly rubbish synch :yahoo_blushing: the things I say to entertain you guys. :yahoo_chatterbox:

          And a rose for the maligned Rod Evans :yahoo_rose: wherever he may be hiding out now.

          :yahoo_peace_sign:

          Did Tracy notice her orange synch was comment 57?:yahoo_clown:

          I think you can overdo the icons.

          #439

          Leörmn the dragon had been retreating silently what felt like a long time ago. For most of the dragons, as they grew in age, needed to occupy more and more of their time in dreaming.
          But dreaming was not an idle occupation as human sometimes were prone to think. He was phenomenally active in the Unseen when he dreamt, and most of the times, he didn’t even have a dream corporeal existence such was the intensity of the activity, that he projected in many many many different ways at the same time.

          At times, he slowly woke up, barely aware of all of what he had done. In one fragment, some other focuses of his friends were in an odd classroom, and were asked whether they had read some transcripts of a trance conversation with a dragon. At the beginning the pupils had felt reluctant to answer, but some bold hands had been raised, and he knew these people, they were closely related to him. The teacher had been telling them how different the energy was, and how intense, for it was not the same kind of consciousness… Of course, Leörmn knew all of that, but it was one of the many things that had occurred during his sleep. Because all of that was a reality, occurring in other frameworks, other dimensions, other scenes, but all of them were happening.
          And in another one, there was this young man who had just changed his name, looking through a sort of big flat glubolin at some parchment map that one of his friend had put in front of his eyes, and the young man was amazed at how close it looked like the map he had seen in his own dream, with rivers outlined…

          Leörmn felt immensely grateful for all of these personality essences exchanging with him, and enhancing and widening his own exploration, and he felt like he wanted to modify once again the cave. He would create some guest rooms into the cave for them, if they wanted to use them. They would be furnished as they wanted to, and reflecting what was their comfort, and dear to them…
          At Malvina’s request, he had already created one abode for Irtak, but now, he would also create one for the finckely Arona, the wandering Sanso, who in turn could invite some of their own guests.

          And so once again, the cave was transmugrified…

          #1938
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Yurick wondered for a moment what action was required behind “floating downstream”, the motto that his friend Finn was brandishing with renewed fervor at each of their encounters.

            Perhaps it was actually a “non action”, and that reminded him of all the Taoist texts he had loved to read when he was younger. One of the tenets of the philosophy of Taoists was wu wei 無為 or “non action”, but this was not meant as being lazy and passive, quite the contrary… A bit of a mind-stretching concept:

            WU WEI (from the 道德经 Dao de jing, attributed to Lao Zi)

            The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
            and acts without effort.

            Teaching without verbosity,
            producing without possessing,
            creating without regard to result,
            claiming nothing,
            the Sage has nothing to lose.

            When he had asked his friend Elias about this, Yurick got that answer,

            “We have spoken previously of how you each have divorced yourselves from essence, and subsequently have forgotten your own native language. You now incorporate a desire to be connecting with essence, to be dissolving of the veils that exist between the focus and the entirety of the whole. In this, it communicates to you, but you have forgotten your language! Therefore, be not in distress; and allow yourself the opportunity to be assimilating a new language, and not pressing yourself to be attempting to interpret within your present language.” [session 100, June 16, 1996]

            and that completed nicely another thing he had previously heard from him, speaking about our natural language in essence:

            “Be listening to your impressions and be recognizing of your impulses, and DO NOT be denying of your impulses! This is your language to yourself from essence, and it is not harmful to you. It naturally moves you into the most efficient directions, but you are taught within your belief systems to be discounting of your impulses and to be suspect of your impulses, for they are bad. They are not! They are your natural language to yourself. Therefore, be listening to this language.” [session 294, July 01, 1998]

            So basically, floating downstream, or being in the wu wei state of mind required only one thing, to be focusing and acting upon our impulses, and not judging or denying them… Probably the most challenging thing we are learning to do now…

            #1572

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              hmmm lemon synch, a neighbour just gave me a HUGE bag of lemons :yahoo_thinking:

              #1570

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                youtube of the Veils

                Finn and baby synch :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                Advice for Becky :yahoo_tongue:

                WELL I thought this was hilarious.

                :yahoo_alien: yes, but everyone knows you are weirdo

                #1935
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Be GENTLE with yourself! It matters NOT! And, wink :yahoo_heehee:

                  #432

                  Inspired by the courageous example of Finn, Quintin was thinking of changing his name too.

                  There were too many Quintins out there, and he needed to find something more suitable. Michaela had mistaken him again for another Quintin, and of course, Quintin had heard Elias laugh in the background.
                  Yann’s battery of his new phone was charged at 33%, so that was probably a confirmation too.

                  Why not something like Yurick
                  Looking for a confirmation, Quintin found this.

                  YORICK: Altered form of JORCK. This name was used by Shakespeare for a court jester in his play ‘Hamlet’. :yahoo_skull:
                  JORCK: Danish form of GEORGE

                  So that was it… Having recently read some poems from George Gordon Byron, Quintin thought that it was in perfect sync.
                  Yurick was henceforth adopted.

                  Interestingly, Yurick noticed that it was the 303 rd comment posted. So it was obviously another confirmation. Perhaps that with his new name, now Yurick wouldn’t need 3 confirmations in a row…

                  #1489
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster
                    bq(Quote). Mmmm footnotes can be done[1] like that[2] etc.
                    fn1. This is my footnote
                    (new line)
                    fn2. This is my second footnote etc.

                    Mmmm footnotes can be done1 like that2 etc.

                    1 This is my footnote

                    2 This is my second footnote etc.

                    #1859
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      OOPS!! well…that’s not a bad description actually…..

                      #1568

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        LOL!! WE WILL be making money from fossils and pebbles! :yahoo_money_eyes:

                        #424

                        — The legend of Mævel — (Part VII)

                        Today was the Day of the Forgotten. Mævel had slept well, nestled into the soft and warm depth of her dreams, her head resting on the short blue fur of the fox.
                        In sharp contrast with the lovely night, she awoke strangely irritated. Even the birds songs were like noise to her ears, and every sound of the forest she heard with acute intensity and a sense of being submerged by many sensory inputs.
                        Hopefully, the blue fox voice was still very comforting, and she started to wonder how they could come across a Forgotten One in need.

                        — I think I know where we can find some Forgotten One in need.
                        — Where? asked Mævel

                        The fox paused, then answered her question:
                        — Near your human parents’ home.

                        Mævel was surprised. She trusted the fox, and never had really questioned him, because more than that she trusted her own feelings, but now her feelings were telling her that there was something the fox had not told her. Or had told her partially. She was silent, pondering the unseen implications.

                        — Mæ, I’ll try my best to answer your questions, but remember I cannot tell you everything. I can help you remember some things, but there are things that my curse does not allow me to reveal. You have to find them by your own, in order to free us…
                        — Free us? I thought you were the one Cursed?…
                        — Yes I am, and…
                        — How do you know my parent’s home? How much do you know about me?
                        — I know you since you are a baby actually. And even before…
                        — Before? I don’t understand a thing… I feel there are some unseen links, that I cannot decipher, yet they are so close to…
                        — You’re right, there are links, links that are important, and that I cannot reveal.
                        — Why can’t you reveal them?
                        — Let’s go to your human parent’s home…
                        — Why do you always say my human parents?

                        The fox blew in front of him, creating a wobbling sound into the air in the form of a ring large enough for them to go through it. And he hopped inside, disappearing in mid-air.

                        Mævel was perplexed, but did not hesitate. She hopped too into the watery ring in front of her and found herself falling into a void, to reemerge on a bed of dry leaves in front of her parent’s home. Blohmrik the blue fox was seated in front of her, observing a shadowy form at a distance in front of them.

                        — Is that the Forgotten One we will help?
                        — Yes.
                        — Why do you need me? You could help her, couldn’t you?
                        — She wouldn’t see me, Forgotten Ones are usually obsessed by a few people, those who they feel can remember them, and don’t usually see other people. Their perception is quite different than ours.
                        — Hang on a minute… Why do you think she will see me?

                        Mævel looked into the eyes of the fox, and she knew.

                        — We are linked.

                        It was more an affirmation than a question.
                        Mævel wondered who that shadowy figure was. When she focused on her, the form was getting more solid, and she could catch glimpses of how she looked like. And she was surprised. She was about her age, with long blond hair as hers.
                        Mævel’s voice was broken:
                        — My parents had told me I was about to die when I was a baby, then by a sort of miracle, I became healthy… Was that true?… I mean… Was that a gentle way of telling me that I had a twin who died or…
                        — No, Mæ. She is not you. She is not linked to you by blood. You can talk to her, she will listen to you.

                        So Mævel went to see the shadowy figure. She had stopped wandering and trying to find an opening around the house, for there were none for spirits: all openings were locked by stripes of red cloth hung onto the doors and windows.
                        Mævel felt the pain of the Forgotten One as she approached her.

                        — Who are you? she suddenly asked Mævel, raising her head at her approach.
                        — I am Mævel.
                        Mævel… It means marvel of Maÿ… I was born in Maÿ…
                        — What are you doing here?
                        — This is my parents’ home.
                        — How is that possible?
                        — Twenty one year ago, I was taken away from them, given to Shaint Lejüs in place of a fairy princess. But Shaint Lejüs was no fool, he had sent his apprentice to spy on the fairy king.
                        — Blohmrik?!
                        — Yes, Blohmrik… But Blohmrik disobeyed the Elder God, and when he saw the exchange that was about to happen, he let it happen. He wanted to protect the fairy princess from his master. Because Shaint Lejüs wanted the princess as a bride. Ahahaha, how disappointed Lejüs was when he saw that I could not perform the most basic magic spells. I was good at nothing, so he let me go wandering into his Realm. He’d just thought the half-fairy princess had inherited no magic from her father.
                        — How do you know all that?

                        — I told her, the blue fox said. I was hoping to bring her relief. But she started to look for her parents, and Lejüs discovered the truth… Because she was not looking for a fairy king. She was heading here, year after year.
                        — That’s the reason of your curse, is it?
                        — Yes. She can’t see me because I was Forgotten too, in that form of a blue fox. But as Forgotten Ones don’t forget, I didn’t forget. I couldn’t tell her, because she couldn’t see me.
                        — So, I am that fairy princess you are talking about… that strange idea was starting to dawn on Mævel.
                        — Yes. When Lejüs discovered who you were, he wasn’t interested in you any longer, because he thought your magical potential had been irremediably damaged by all those years spent in human company.

                        — Who are you talking to? the shadowy figure asked, bemused.
                        — Blohmrik, he is here. But it’s untrue, Mævel said, there is magic in me.
                        — Yes there is, answered the blue fox, and you can undo what has been done with it.

                        Mævel remembered the useless key she had manifested when she had tried to go out of her human parents’ house. She had not even looked at it closely.

                        — You can manifest it again Mæ, said the fox. It is with you. You are its lock.

                        And no sooner had Mævel thought of the big rusted key, than it appeared in her hand again. But this time the rust on it was crackled, and it started to disintegrate, and a brilliant shiny metal started to show beneath it.

                        Scratching what was left of the rust, Mævel started to look at the beautiful key, it was shaped as a musical note, and it had some word written on it, in an ancient language she didn’t know how to read. But she knew the sound when she ran her finger on the surface of the word.

                        « Araoni »

                        That was her. She was remembering, and everything started to change.

                        :fleuron2:

                        The wedding of the God Blohmrik, son of Mirÿnda, Goddess of Mirth and of Bälias, God of the Sparkles with Araoni, daughter of the Fairy Queen Theÿa and the Fairy King Aldurion was pronounced on a bright day of Maÿ, in a beautiful orchard in the presence of Araoni’s human parents and sisters and brothers.

                        Even Lejüs had been invited, even though he would have preferred to be Forgotten…

                        :fleuron:

                        And so my story ends… said Captain Bone to Tomkin.

                        — And was the shadow remembered by her true parents? had asked Tomkin.
                        — Oh, yes she was… Of course. She just didn’t want to steal the limelight from Mævel, you see. Her parents were happy of course to find back their true daughter.
                        — You didn’t tell me the name of the true daughter, did you?
                        — No, I didn’t, said Captain Bone with a wink.

                        #416

                        1/11/2007

                        Finn felt the time had come to call a meeting.

                        She closed her eyes and waited to see which of the others would appear.

                        Yuni1 arrived first. Yuni had first arrived in her meditations about a year ago, a playful, mischievous character, gnomelike, who nonetheless had always given her very wise and practical advise. Armelle the wise Owl appeared next, silently, her loving energy enveloping Finn. The Indian also appeared. Finn did not know the Indian’s name, she called him White Feather and she was pleased to see him there, having not seen him for some time. A playful Lemur came bounding over. There were several other energies present and Finn knew they would make their identity known if needed, but she could feel their support.

                        I have been feeling quite heavy for several months now and it has been becoming more intense. I am tired of it. It’s as though I am wearing the cloak of heaviness again. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know how to take it off, Finn announced to the assembled group.

                        I want to know if you can help me?

                        Yuni spoke first, or rather he waved the faith document2 at her. Finn winced. She remembered the document well. I didn’t know you meant this long, she said quietly.

                        Armelle gave her a gift. When Finn opened the box, there was a joyful explosion of light and colour. There was also a key.

                        The key is Self Trust, said Finn, answering Armelle’s unspoken question.

                        White Feather had been whittling a piece of wood. He handed it to Finn. It was a staff. This symbolises powerful magic, he told her.

                        Finn felt herself withdraw, not wanting to cause offense and reject the gift, yet not feeling worthy.

                        This is your decision, said White Feather

                        Finn felt Armelle smile at her. She took the staff and thanked White Feather.

                        Do you remember the boxes you made as a child? asked Armelle

                        Finn nodded. It was one of the games she had loved to play with her older sister, transforming old cardboard boxes into designer rooms. They would painstakingly and lovingly decorate the interiors to create new worlds. Once the rooms were created they may play with them for a few minutes, but would pretty soon be onto the next one, it was the creating they loved.

                        Cast your mind back a few years, Armelle said. What were the things you wanted then?

                        Finn cast her mind back.

                        You have it all don’t you, said Armelle gently.

                        Yes I do, said Finn. Everything I wanted I have in my life.

                        You have created powerfully Finn.

                        Why do I feel so heavy? I suppose because what I thought I wanted has changed and I am trying to still keep it the same. Finn wanted to cry.

                        I don’t really know what I want anymore though.

                        What do you know? asked Armelle

                        I know how I want to feel.

                        :fleuron:

                        Finn was on a raft, floating downstream. She closed her eyes and decided to let the river take her where it will.

                        1 Finn had tried to spell Yuni’s name as Uni initially, interpreting him to be symbolic of one of the “faeries of the Universe”, however Yuni had been adamant that was not the correct spelling. When Finn looked up Yuni only meaning she could find was “man from Iunu”.

                        2 The “Faith Document” was like a legal document Yuni gave Finn to sign, indicating that whatever happened she would keep trusting. Finn was surprised to note when she looked up in her records that this was November 1 st, exactly a year ago.

                        #1557

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          I had a DRAGONfly in my bathroom and there was a swarm of millions of DRAGONflies over Gibraltar yesterday…heading, one might say, from the Sahara towards Salitre……. :weather-clear: what no dragonfly icon! :yahoo_idk:

                          #1556

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            A couple of weeks ago at Rachel’s at Salitre I met a Polish man called Marco (marco polo LOL ). Well, yesterday at Salitre someone was telling me a bit about Marco. He was a salior, and had spent some time in Madagascar. He acquired a lemur which became his good friend, and he continued his travels by boat with the lemur, until eventually he met a lady he wanted to marry in Poland and she said ‘Either the lemur or me’.

                            Marco sold the lemur to a zoo in Poland, for a phenomenal sum of money, so the story goes, because apparently lemurs don’t travel well and need to sail slowly to the new destination in order to acclimatize…so I was told

                            Marco divorced the lady and said that, in retrospect, he was sorry he didn’t choose the lemur.

                            #412

                            :multimedia: CUUUUUT !

                            — Ahahaha, I’m sorry, that must be the sauerkraut we had for lunch!
                            — You’re kiddin’ or what? I tell you for the 58 th time, it’s supposed to be a dramatic scene filled with suspended horror and… Shite! Perhaps you’d prefer to have it Broadway-like, Teri sweetie? With parrot feathers jabbed into your bum and fairies dangling from the roof singing La Traviata?…

                            — Err… You can say that’s because of the fermentation gas produced by the mould inside the mummy, and that her reviving her physiological tissues would naturally generate…
                            — Who the hell is that f*cking know-it-all?
                            — I’m the historical consultant, John Davis
                            — Historical WHAT? Betty’s gonna hear me, I can tell ya, as if we’ve got ‘nuff budget to bother with… Aaah, get lost! Now, everyone get ready for the… Ooooh bugger! Let’s do it tomorrow.

                            Marvin Scrozzezi went to his caravan exasperated. The movie wasn’t going very well, and there were all these impossible deadlines… His worst concern was about the damn budget. He’d thought it was a good idea to hire that expensive castle to do the movie. An adaptation from a book he had found recently.
                            He had bargained with the author to get the rights, and that had been tough, considering his previous movies were not quite that kind of great historical epic he was supposed to do now.
                            At least she had not laughed when Marvin had told her his most successful movie was The Return of the Avenging Dame Zombie of the Lake
                            What a mess… Sure a good night of sleep would make it all right.

                            #408

                            Dory will be home in time for The day Of The Dead celebrations at the Meredwen pyramid, Dan! Becky exclaimed excitedly.

                            Dan smiled and said, Yeah, I thought she might make it back in time for that.

                            It was two years since Dory, the psychic archeologist, had discovered two ancient pyramids in the Andalucian mountains.

                            How about we go up there today, Becky, and help with the preparations?

                            Oh YES Dan! Becky replied enthusiastically. Then she sat quite still for some moments, with her eyes closed.

                            Becky? Dan inquired, You ok?

                            She opened her eyes and smiled up at Dan. We’ll have quite a crowd of helpers with us at Meredwen today, she said, I just sent out telepathic invitations to everyone.

                            Dan chuckled and shook his head…he didn’t really understand alot of what Dory and Becky said, but it all seemed right somehow, and it was no skin off his nose to be indulgent and supportive. Their tips about ‘creating his own reality’ had certainly come in handy on the golf course and at the poker table. He started to pack a picnic lunch, still smiling at Becky’s enthusiastic response to his suggestion. That’s what he loved most about Dory and Becky, their passionate enthusiasm for just about anything.

                            #406

                            A voice in the dark:

                            CUUUUT! It’s lousy guys. We shoot another one…
                            — Oh, shit dudes! Not another one! It’s hot under these bandages!

                            #402

                            — The legend of Mævel — (Part V)

                            Mævel, opening her eyes, found herself in the middle of the forest. It was still dark and the sky was covered with a dark blue haze. Now, she had to find her friend the fox
                            How could she do that, in such a wide forest, she started to whine.

                            Well, why not start by asking… hooted a rowl nearby.

                            Mævel was surprised. She had thought these hot pink speaking owls where found only in legends, not in woods nearby…

                            You are in a legend, sweetie retorted the rowl.
                            — Oh… Surely the legend of someone else then. Who’s legend it is, I am in, dear rowl?
                            — Oh, you can call me Aromelle, sweetie. It’s your legend of course.
                            — No kidding? Phew, what a responsibility… I shouldn’t tell you that, but you seem like a rowl I can confide in, err… I’m no hero, I’m not even educated, and I pass winds like any impolite woman or polite green ogress would do… And having everyone know that would be kind of embarrassing… What a legend that would be…
                            — Then we’ll just say to the bards to skip that part… said wise Aromelle. Now, you wanted to ask something?
                            — Oh yes, I have to find the blue fox.
                            — And would you mind being a little more precise about that fox. I know thousands of blue foxes sweetie. Hoohoo, perhaps that’s an exaggeration, but I know quite a few, of others’ legends… You’re not the only legendary one coming into these woods to ask for advice.
                            — Oh, I’m sorry, blushed Mævel
                            — No need sweetie, snapped the rowl, in fact I know exactly who you are looking for… Wouldn’t that be Gulniforgf, the hunchback one-eyed cleft-lipped ogre cursed by Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters? she said with an encouraging wink
                            — Oh, by Ghört’s sake, no!
                            — Hoohooo, no need to swear. Of course it isn’t, I knew that, sweetie. That must be Mifilthion, the toothless bald thousand-year-old troll cursed by Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, you are looking for, hum? she said slyly
                            — Oh, no, no, no… Mine is Blohmrik, he said he was a god…
                            — Oh, but you know, everyone is a bit of god in a way, so that’s hardly…
                            — He said he was cursed by Lejüs
                            SHOOSHOOO, the rowl flapped her wings visibly distraught. That can’t be him! Poor thing… Aromelle added plaintively, you know in these matters of curses, you have to deal with the cursing one, and Shaint Lejüs is a tough one to deal with…
                            — Oh, for a moment I was afraid that you’d say Blohmrik was a deaf varicosed warty dwarf… I don’t fear that Lejüs, said bravely Mævel… perhaps a bit hastily, she thought to herself
                            — Oh, no, he’s a nice fine man, sweetie, you both would do such a perfect couple…
                            — And where do I find him then, Mævel was getting a bit impatient with the winking hooting hoot
                            — Well, that’s easy, you just happen to have appeared on top of his burrow.

                            What a waste of time, was thinking Mævel… She couldn’t wait for much longer, and after all, the burrow could be a nice place to rest.

                            With a quick thanks to Aromelle, she entered the tunnel in front of her.

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