Category Archives: About Carol

Writing In the Skies * Mysteries In My Birth Chart

Here, I open up my birth chart, with some observations as to how interpretation of a chart works, and also how we can identify mysteries which are foretold in a birth chart. Sometimes they are quite starkly revealed but unless the astrologer is open to such mysteries and “dark secrets” these mysterious clues will be missed.

Each chart is unique; each person’s life begins before birth and is profoundly affected by the choice of parents and birth circumstances.  Very often, the mother’s choices and life patterns are as clear in a client’s chart as are those of the client.

As always in the astrology of family history – one of the ways we can talk about DNA in the birth chart – we look for the placement of Pluto, Saturn and Neptune.  These can refer to deception, betrayal, and denial as part of the childhood; Uranus too must be considered because here is where sudden shocks, revelations and even blows of emotional or physical kind can be foretold.

The Ascendant (or Rising Sign), for Vedic and Medieval Astrologers, has always been the focal point of the chart, regardless of Sun Sign.

In my case, the Sun, Moon, and Mercury are all in Aquarius, and my life and personality clearly reflect this. But I have Libra Rising, and when someone gets close enough to see (not easy with an Aquarian) it becomes evident that in my everyday preferences, clothes, decor, handling of situations, etc, I really express the qualities of Libra more than Aquarius. You have to poke and prod quite a bit before “the Aquarian” comes out in full view and when it does, it can be a revelation to those around me, but also to myself…

Continue reading Writing In the Skies * Mysteries In My Birth Chart

Libya Dreaming * Far Memory and the Sands of Space and Time

Sigh…In modern times Libya makes  news headlines for its wars and struggles to find a place in the world.  It was not always so…

Sometimes I find myself Libya Dreaming, following a trail of old maps, histories, and feelings, till I arrive, at last, in the golden sands of Far Memory…

There is – there was – a Libya I know better than the city I have lived in for 45 years.

Archaeological Site of Cyrene (Libya)

A pillar of ancient history, it was a jewel in the crown of the Roman Empire from 146 BC to 640 AD. It was prized even earlier by the Greeks, who founded Cyrene – the Athens of Africa – in Cyrenaica in Eastern Libya from which modern eastern Libya and Libyans still take their name.

The site of Cyrene was chosen – most wisely – on the advice of the Oracle of Delphi and the city would become one of the largest in the Mediterranean. The area is now a World Heritage site and is rich in mythology and history.

There is a strong possibility that the invading Greeks built their temple to Apollo for protection from Libyan Amazons and over artefacts of an earlier, more advanced culture.

In the beginning, though, it was the home of the Berbers. The earliest name given them – Libu – appears to be the origin of the word Libya, the name for most of the African continent in classical Egyptian, Greek and Roman times.

Continue reading Libya Dreaming * Far Memory and the Sands of Space and Time

Beginnings * My First Psychic Pictures

Hillshore on the Bay of Quinte, c. 1954

I was no more than ten, sitting on the back steps that led into the old extra room, really a storage shed, tacked onto the farmhouse at Hillshore. In there, we kept our piles of chopped wood for the ancient black cook stove, “Beulah”.

It was also the place where Rocket, our large bullmastiff, used to sleep with Patsy, the small black Labrador cross, tucked close to Rocket’s tummy for warmth. Our stolid bodyguard, a cat named Sir Pook of Quinte, would ensconce himself on Rocket’s back and in this fashion the trio would settle in for their night’s sleep.

The day came, however, when Dad tore down the old shed with its step, and we could go directly across the small gulley to the larger apple orchard. Rocket was allocated his own suite of rooms in the barn for winter, Patsy was given hers close by, and Sir Pook of Quinte had by then inveigled himself into becoming a House Cat….

But the old steps and shed were still there when I settled in that evening in the late fall after supper. It was almost dark, and a light mist had fallen over the Bay. It was quite usual for me to find an odd spot to ponder things. I was a thoughtful, only child, very interested in the deeper questions of life. I was born under the Sun in Aquarius too, so that I was  a child deeply concerned from an early age about justice, animals, refugees; I was always different” in some way, not quite one of the crowd.

And with an IQ of around 140, I was said to be “gifted” though no one paid much attention to such things in those days…certainly it was always more of a burden than a gift…

Bay of Quinte shores, southern Ontario

But I was a dreamer, and found my world in places others did not see.  So as I sat there on the old steps, I was fascinated by the large auras of mist around the trees that lined our waterfront along the beautiful Bay of Quinte, and stood in groups in our apple orchard.

I felt myself merging with those misty apparitions, and as I gazed at them, a series of pictures began to form in my mind. They were very different from daydreaming, quite unconnected with anything I had been thinking about; they were coherent, with a message, a teaching session.

Such an experience might, in some circumstances, have been a worrisome “symptom” of impending mental illness in a child; not all that appears “psychic” truly is.  Fortunately, in my case, these pictures were the announcement of a lifelong gift.

I know now that such pictures are a form Active Imagination, a kind of dreaming, during which the conscious mind and therefore the Ego both remain awake, participating in the spiritual, clairvoyant, and often psychological revelations of the Higher Self (and sometimes of one’s spirit guides). These pictures or images “come in”, one might say, like a text message.

These were the pictures that, in the future, would always be there on request when I gave professional life readings. They enter my mind spontaneously as I pore over my clients’ birth charts.  These were the pictures that would light my Path in the darkest of times.

Continue reading Beginnings * My First Psychic Pictures

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.

Continue reading A Mystical Rose For Healing

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 – our own Silk 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