Silk Road Visions * Back Here On Earth

The caravansarai were once the resting places along the Great Silk Road. Here, we found warm welcome, food, water, fresh camels, information, and of course, a little gossip to lighten the journey. A night’s rest, then setting out again with the Dawn…Jolting along the ancient Road, I listen for the beat of the drum, my gaze lost in far horizons. Swaying high above the drifting sands, I close my eyes and dream of Home…

The Silk Road * Travels With the Higher Self
How I have loved the ancient Silk Road. – a metaphor for Life here on Earth!

I close my eyes and see the shimmering horizons, vast peaks rising far away…I feel the ancient rhythms, hear the ancient wisdom, and revel in the sands and grasses flowing – this river of Time, this river of human life. Though its physical form is now buried in the ever-shifting sands, it lives as a metaphor for human life on Earth.

Beginning in ancient China, its Source, the Silk Road flows out through Central Asia, pauses at Iran, the ancient Gatekeeper, then continues steadily through the Middle East to the Mediterranean world and its children in Time, Europe. As it winds, passing through whole worlds of deserts, mountains, great cities and small village huts, the Silk Road still lives, pulsing in time with the heartbeat of the Caravan.

The ancient Silk Road consisted of trails, roads, bridges, and pathways that stretched across nearly 5,000 miles of land and water (we tend to forget the magic of the Silk Road by Sea). It was not one long road, but rather many smaller roads and pathways that were connected, and worn by the use of thousands of travelers over a period of hundreds of years.

“Although it is suspected that significant trade occurred for about 1,000 years beforehand, the Silk Road opened around 139 B.C. once China was unified under the Han dynasty. It started at Changan (Xian) and ended at Antioch or Constantinople (Istanbul), passing by commercial cities such as Samarkand and Kashgar.

“It was very rare that caravans traveled for the whole distance since the trade system functioned as a chain. Merchants with their caravans were shipping goods back and forth from one trade center to the other. Major commodities traded included silk (of course), gold, jade, tea and spices. Since the transport capacity was limited, over long distance and often unsafe, luxury goods were the only commodities that could be traded.

“The Silk Road also served as a vector for the diffusion of ideas and religions (initially Buddhism and then Islam), enabling civilizations from Europe, the Middle East and Asia to interact.” Taken From The Silk Road and Arab Sea Routes

It is a safe bet that almost all of us traveled this ancient Silk Road in at least one of our other lives. We wore other faces, other skin colors, other garments; we believed in other gods, feared other peoples; sometimes we rode, lurching along on the backs of camels, horse and mules; sometimes we walked, for it was what our camels could carry that made this Road such a legend in its own time.

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A Mystical Rose For Healing

In my mother’s work as a channel, or medium, in the very early 1960s, she and her group were taught some fascinating truths about reincarnation, karma, and dream analysis, along with techniques of healing mind and body – borne out much later by scientific and medical research.

It was in a series of early meditations – taught to her by her guides – at our country home Hillshore that my mother was first shown a short simple method to create and use a beautiful image to replace ugly, painful, fearful ones. Mom’s experience was lovely and most helpful, so I am passing it on here.

My mother loved flowers and had a large rose garden to which she added year after year. One morning in meditation, she found herself doing something quite fascinating – as I mentioned, one must let all this happen spontaneously. “Someone” was explaining (like texting, not an actual voice) that she could create a rose image and use it to “tape over” harmful or negative images/event and the emotions arising from them.

I should note here that this was different from our usual daily meditations in which we experienced a very informal and spontaneous form of something akin to Active Imagination.  More on that in other posts!

On this occasion, mom began to work on building a more universal, magical image – the Rose – which could be pulled up on the mental screen and applied on short notice to almost any disturbing experience one might encounter in daily life. This might be a graphic, ugly scene in a movie, book, of TV, an upsetting scene with someone close, a repetitive phobia, unhealthy urge, anxiety, the sight of a hurt animal or person, and other forms of what we would call PTSD.

(It seems clear that what Mom was about to learn how to do is part of the science of neuroplasticity, the Brain’s ability to change itself. We know too that “what fires together wires together” in the Brain – we get negative “associations” and can’t shake them – hence flashbacks and triggers which make old trauma present to us in the Now.

By teaching the Brain new associations, new pairs of firings, one might say, the Brain rewires itself and “learns” to drop old negative automatic associations by replacing them with new positive ones…This is what Mom’s guide meant by “taping over…”)

Mom spent considerable time actually building the Rose. In the first several meditations she was encouraged to simply just visualize her favorite rose (I knew it well) a gorgeous salmon-pink, just barely in bloom, fresh in the morning sun. She then seemed to take it apart – dwelling lovingly on every petal, and especially on the leathery dark green color and texture of each leaf.

Finally, she visualized it reassembled, in perfect form – an image of pure Beauty on several levels of sensual experience – smell, touch, vision, and on the level of Mind, where artist perfection takes us to spiritual realms.

In time, she was able to use this healing technique at will, summoning up her Rose in full, dewy, aromatic detail, holding it firmly in her mental vision until it filled her mind. Then, calling up the disturbing image which needed to be erased, mom would superimpose upon it the Rose, holding it there till the ugly image had dissolved.

Mom told me she occasionally “refreshed” her Rose – repeating the visualizing process. It would simply show up in a meditation, and she noted – almost as an observer, the way both mom and I often felt in meditation – that she was once again visualizing her Rose so that it took form once again in careful, slow detail, before her Mind’s Eye.

I do encourage my readers to try this – and don’t be surprised if the flower or image that presents itself to you is something other than a rose, for your Higher Self will know of just the right symbol for you! But a rose can be where you begin, and if you are patient, and don’t try to direct the process, things will unfold from within you…

Caravans and Sifting Sands

We are part of a Great Web of Life – a metaphor sprung to life as we connect, through the Internet, in our millions around the world each day…

Nations, which we build together, have karma too, and often whole peoples reincarnate together in more than one historical time. In the study of history and political life we may meet ourselves, for we leave our threads woven in Silk Tapestries of nations and peoples as well as within our own lives.

From these larger Stories come memory, meaning and belonging, carefully preserved in the Book of Life which belongs to every Soul.

I see the Spiritual Path as one which for most of us leads into and through a busy, very-human World.  We set forth anew through the Morning Gates, with hope in our hearts and our heads held high.  We travel together in our Caravans – our families and nations, our friends and our foes.

We jostle along with our laughter and love, with our strife and our sorrow – it’s all good, yours and mine.  Yet we look for the distant horizons too, and we listen to Stories we weave from our Deeds, precious Silk from our Time on the Road.  For the deeds of this world, and each life we live here – come only once and are gone, entrancing, ever-changing, like the shifting desert sands.

A Spirit Message For Dark Times

One Message For All From Those on The Other Side
Clairvoyance, healing and other psychic gifts were my inheritance from my mother. Her guide called these the “gifts of the Spirit Line.” He said they came from the Irish side of her family, from a kind of psychic gene pool intertwined with the physical one.

The gifts – and our spirit kinship – were why, he told us, I had chosen her for my birth.  From her, I later learned a special kind of  meditation in which I developed these gifts which I was able to then share with others as a professional psychic. Surprisingly, this same form of meditation led me to solitary shamanism, or perhaps the shamanism always came first, and what mom and I called meditation was really a form of the shaman’s journey.

Yet all these gifts – though precious – are far less important to me than the larger message of my mother’s mediumship, and later of my own: “We come here many times, each with our own Plan, with lots of time to grow, to make repairs, and to change our writings in the sands of Time. We need not envy another his or her life, for we will have ones just like these in our own time, just as we must feel compassion for those with harsh lives, for we too will walk parts of the Road that seem long and hard…

We are loved beyond imagining. We are cradled by the laws of the Creator’s Wheel and sustained by the love of the Creator’s Heart. Nothing is ever wasted or meaningless. Everything in our lives becomes part of the Plan, for it stretches in love to include all that we do. Things that we want to do over, we do over – and it all becomes part of the wisdom we store. Our birth, our Coming In, is timed precisely according to the Plan, and our Going Out is planned also, down to the last breath we take.

So may you be of good cheer as you set out in the morning of your Youth, with the Road fresh and new once again…

Or perhaps the heat of the mid-life sun is upon you, and the horizon a blur in the distance. Then sit here for awhile, review your Maps, and take some refreshment in my caravanserai…

And if your sun is sinking low and the Night close upon you, be of light and steady heart, for the longer rest – in the Great Caravanserai – will be more wonderful than you dream. Welcome it for its peace and rejuvenation, for a new Dawn will come soon, and with it will come your next journey upon the Great Silk Road.

Blessings, Light and Love, Carol