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  • #464

    His senses were now hightened and he could feel the multi-layered energy patterns of the cave created by Leörmn. He could feel the connections with Leörmn and that they were part of him as he was part of them too. His foffing aspect just rippled inside the cave and for a few seconds added a green hue in the energy of the cave, rendering it smoother and a green flourishing moss began appearing in some hidden places.

    — There is different probable paths for us to follow. Different qualities and different probabilities to emerge :)

    She smiled, looking at him observing her energy. Their energy fields were merged as often when they were together. Their colors were blending, adding new qualities to their expressed focuses in this dimension.

    — We are following all of them, beloved, she said grinning. I don’t want to actualize in this particular focus the quickest though I want to lof a little before.

    He was seeing Salome’s energy intertwined and blended with all the energy of this dimension. Some more present, some lighter and not so focused in this particular area… she was observing him observing the blueprints also, they were fascinating… a bit different from what he was remembering from his last visit. They had changed them… well he also had changed them. It was a new exploration. From this particular interest in the new qualities added he felt he was creating new focuses to explore these and also new essences decided to fragment and explore differently, again changing the vibrational tone of the dimension… it was a continuous and wondrous process.

    The marmoset was shining blue, still full of Salome’s energy. Leo’s energy pattern seemed quite new to this dimension.

    — You are the one who introduced them in this dimension, he smiggled cunningly, I feel others are coming now. They find it quite fun and welcoming here.

    They both laughed and She grinned slyly.

    — Well I’m a Path Opener, you know..

    Leo jumped on her right shoulder and wrapped his tail around her neck possessively. He did that little squick she was so fond of.

    — Sam has been following us also. She said. I feel she’s already with Malvina and jumping all around the place. Time to go before she messes the cave around :))

    — Well this way then my precious :>

    She saw him shift his attention sideway a little and his energy hue changed, becoming a bit more mustard, the tunnels around them were becoming translucent and he walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the sky blue energy of their beloved friend Malvina.

    #463

    — A marmoset then… Georges said Salome grinning widely.
    — Yes. Did you get a name for him?
    — Leo.
    — That’s cute… With his little white mane around his face, Malvina will love him.

    Leo had jumped on Salome’s shoulder, as it was a bit exhausting for the little creature to follow them.

    — You know they are disappearing on this island of Tikfijikoo where I was just before. I think they found the invasion of their habitat by humans no longer funny. Lots of them have already popped into another reality for their kind… It takes some adjustment to refocus and reconfigure the energy, but it seems to go smoothly, as Leo being here is proof.
    — Yes, as lots of old species on Earth ware doing. The relocation process is a bit energetically crowded, in a manner of speaking…
    Georges was finding usage of words in that dimension a bit uneasy. That ware was such an example of how language needed rearrangement when they talked about simultaneous events in both past and present. At least, he knew Salome was understanding beyond the words.

    Salome smiled and envisioned Georges and herself bathed into a field of fluid mulberry jelly colour, and around them some of the particles floating haphazardly around started to gather orbiting in rippling circles around them.
    Salome was remembering an undulating shape too that she could use as a tuning fork, and she added it inside the central circle.

    — Oh, you’re right…

    « the translation device ! » they both said simultaneously, bursting into laughter.

    — I always tend to forget about that funny toy Malvina once explained to me. And you know how much I love to play with it… when I remember it, of course…

    Malvina had told Georges that the particles which were in his field were assisting him in translation, and had a grounding and focusing effect.

    Leo started to applaud frantically at the new light quality of the energy.

    #460

    Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

    Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

    The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

    When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

    Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

    Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

    She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

    That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

    She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

    I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

    Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

    Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

    Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.

    #456

    Dr Bronkelhampton could not help but smile as she unwrapped the bandages and saw the peach smooth skin underneath. So far, so good. All was going to plan beautifully.

    Veranassessee had departed ten minutes ago to greet the two latest arrivals off the plane, and more would be arriving on the island over the next few days and weeks. They would have to be handled with care. Dr Bronkelhampton hoped they would be willing to participate in the experiments, or “treatments”, once they fully appreciated the benefits. But, if not…., she shrugged, there was really no way off the island except by her own say so.

    #449

    All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
    This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

    She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
    She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

    :fleuron:

    Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
    She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

    Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

    The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

    :fleuron:

    For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
    Good riddance.

    This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
    She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

    She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

    In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

    :fleuron:

    In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

    — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
    — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
    — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
    — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
    — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

    Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
    A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
    But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

    — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
    A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

    #1585

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      I just love the image of all the broken plates and water stuff! What fun! I nearly choked to death once at a party, and nobody thought it was as serious as I knew it was. I was trying to demonstrate the Heimlich manouvre whilst dying; nobody knew what to do. Actually I think I have hundreds of dead probable selves!

      Points Jib for following your intuition and bugger the plates!

      #446
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.

        Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.

        Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.

        Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.

        Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.

        I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.

        I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes

        Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

        Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.

        On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.

        Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.

        Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.

        And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.

        I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….

        hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.

        Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.

        Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.

        Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.

        I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.

        Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.

        Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.

        The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.

        She kept rocking, faster now.

        She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.

        I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.

        Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.

        Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!

        She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.

        She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.

        She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.

        I don’t know, she whispered.

        She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.

        I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.

        :fleuron:

        Lucille returned with the lemonade.

        How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?

        Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.

        Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.

        #1584

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        Jib
        Participant

          Dead sync :yahoo_heehee: I’ve had a drink with a friend this afternoon and he told me about the trip in Vienna last June… he was with us but did not attend the Elias session.
          During this trip, he almost choked to death in a restaurant… nobody seemed very concerned about it at the moment but I felt he was really having difficulties, I just pushed the tables around (broke many plates and water stuffs :p) and “helped” him in a way.. He told me later that he’d seen him dead during the experience… he may have created a dead probable self at that time.

          And he also told me that yesterday he made a lemon pie :yahoo_laughing: and we talked about making a lemon pie too :bounce:

          #1583

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Coincidentally, with all the discussions about the disengagement and gloomy feelings, mummies and stuff, I noticed that these days would be Samhain period according to one of the ancient ways of telling its date in one of the interpretations of the Celtic calendar. :yahoo_pumpkin:

            Nowadays the day of the Dead is set on the 1 st of November, but traditionally it depended on the moon cycles as well as the sun (solar/lunar calendar), and its date would most likely change every year.

            :face-glasses: In one of the interpretation that I’ve used to have it appear in my calendar (related by Pline?) this would be a three-day period beginning on the sixth night of the lunar month closest to November 1 st (the date at the mid-point of the autumn equinox / winter solstice period).

            This year (2007) the lunar month closest to this date has begun on 11/11 – so Samhain would be between 16-18 (the first crescent meaning a shift in the energies). :yahoo_yin_yang:

            :weather-clear-night: :recycle: :weather-clear:

            #1411
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Time gentlemen PLEASE! Last orders! :yahoo_bring_it_on: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_waiting:shouted the grumpy old cow behind the bar.

              :yahoo_crying: :mummy: :mummy: :yahoo_not_talking: :mummy: :yahoo_not_listening: :mummy: :yahoo_heehee: :mummy: :yahoo_laughing: :mummy: :yahoo_whistling:

              But the busload of Italian mummy’s had no intention of leaving,
              and they certainly hadn’t finished drinking, so they disappeared the pub landlady in a puff of rose scented :mummy: :yahoo_rose: :weather-overcast:mummy fart.

              #1577

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                straight after i said i had no turkey synchs i read this in my Yann book

                “What a stunning creature. How apt that in full it is a Royal Bengal tiger. I counted myself lucky. What if I had ended up with a creature that looked ugly or silly, a tapir or an ostrich, or a flock of turkeys “

                (that’s a bit rude to Turkeys)

                hahhahahah when I looked at the word “Turkey” for a moment I read “Tracy”

                A rose for the maligned Turkey :yahoo_rose:

                #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.

                  #1576

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Orange sync! My neighbour just gave a me a box of oranges! :yahoo_pumpkin: :weather-clear:

                    #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…

                      #1398
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Let’s add some quotations from our Friend Oscary

                        A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.

                        A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her.

                        Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.

                        America had often been discovered before Columbus, but it had always been hushed up.

                        America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between.

                        Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.

                        Arguments are to be avoided; they are always vulgar and often convincing.

                        #1397
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          You’ll notice that it works better when there is interesting content. Like on Armelle’s thread of meditation, dreams, syncs and thoughts , there are advertisements on how to get abundant, and on philosophy, and reality creation and such… It’s quite impressive.
                          Guess we will be bound to Guinness advertisements here ;))

                          #434
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            “Oranges and lemons”, say the bells of St. Clement’s

                            (The crone started singing to the baby)

                            “You owe me five farthings”, say the bells of St. Martin’s
                            “When will you pay me?” say the bells of Old Bailey
                            “When I grow rich”, say the bells of Shoreditch

                            (Madrake tutted and raised his eyebrows)

                            “When will that be?” say the bells of Stepney
                            “I may express to you: Whenever you choose to create it”, says the great bell of Bow

                            #1313

                            In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              November 9 th

                              For Yurick, or perhaps shall we say, The Artist Formerly Known As Quintin this sequence of sequence of 911 has the signification of a reminder to be paying attention to self, and being present to himself.
                              The last few days have been, in appearance, quite devoid of exciting new installments of the story, yet, we nudge him not to judge this lack of activity on his part as categorically as he has been used to do. It was a time of self-retreat, a time we have shared with many other essences, as all is connected.
                              A very fine point which has been brought forth by Elias a few days ago (in Yurick’s perception of time) has been that you want to appreciate the process. His illustration was that of a beautiful flower bud that you hold, and that you don’t want to tear open, but rather let itself reveal its splendor, and also, its surprises.

                              It has prompted Yurick to remember something, which had lots of meaning to him.
                              Some years ago, when he was in Kyoto’s forests, he picked up an acorn, as he liked to have seeds or tree corns in his pockets. Back from his trip, in his home, there was this big pot of earth were an old plant had died from the summer heat, and he planted the acorn in it.
                              And he waited. Till he had to move, some months later, having renounced to have the acorn grow at all, as the soil’s surface was remaining desperately flat. Perhaps it had rotten altogether. Before leaving the apartment, Yurick started to rummage with his bare hands into the soil, to look for the remains of the acorn he believed had rotten, only to find it perfectly healthy. And even more, it had grown lots of long roots.
                              So he took it back home, where it was planted and still continues to grow at a rapid rate.

                              Looking at the now big sapling reminds Yurick how that process of growing roots was important for the plant, as they were essential for the oak to be able to survive the winters colds and the summers heats.

                              Such is the importance of these moments were inspiration seem to be scarce, or away. It is ever present, growing its roots very carefully inside the soil of your being, and expanding your connexions, redefining some, bringing new nourishments to yourself… The effects are not always immediately visible, but things never cease to move.

                              Be prepared to be amazed by the colors of the flowers and leaves your seed produces, for as Yurick’s oak was an unusual kind of oak (a chestnut oak ), the very seeds that are in your pockets or waiting in the soils of your dream gardens may reveal their own surprises…

                              #1453
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                hahahaah!! I don’t know, but the future’s looking sunny Sam :weather-clear: :bounce:

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