Shelora's Excellent Adventure

2009-10-14T08:12:00.001-07:00

Out of clutter, find simplicity. From discord, find harmony. In the middle of difficulty, find opportunity.
Albert Einstein

2009-10-12T17:08:00.001-07:00

Genius is perseverance in disguise. Mike Newlin
aconversationfortransformamation.com

2009-10-12T13:47:00.001-07:00

Nothing is so strong as gentleness, and nothing is so gentle as real strength.
Ralph W. Sockman. http:aconversationfortransformation.com

2009-10-11T09:13:00.001-07:00

The Truth is very simple. It is not complex at all. Get out of the way and let Love live through you. The Way of Mastery

2009-10-11T09:00:00.001-07:00

Release the drama, release the dream, and choose to remember the truth that is true always. The Way of Mastery

2009-08-25T12:49:00.001-07:00

"The most important thing is the most easily forgotten." Obluique Strtegies www.shelora.com

2009-07-28T12:03:00.001-07:00

This is it! The New Earth is here now! May all of us turn around and step into the Light and set the world ablaze with love. ww.shelora.com

2009-07-28T12:01:00.001-07:00

The world is joined today in a global intention to create a balanced, peaceful world. It is Firethegrid.com at 19:19 Rio de Janeiro time.

2009-07-07T12:46:00.001-07:00

My heart is filled with so much love, I can barely contain it. We are the World. Look at the One in the mirror, and change the way we treat each other, indeed. I love you all. www.shelora.com

2009-07-03T16:43:00.001-07:00

Check out my latest blog entry at AConversationforTransformation.com
It's about how we end relationships that don't work, and why. Called Release and Return to the Divine Feminine. Let me know what you think.
http://ping.fm/n41l3

2009-06-27T14:31:00.001-07:00

So beautiful a soul could not contain this world in his heart, so he exploded out of it into eternity. So beautiful a soul could not contain this world in his heart, so he exploded out of it into eternity. http://ping.fm/pDs9l

2009-06-25T07:44:00.001-07:00

It is amazing what you can accomplish when you do not care who gets the credit. John Wooden
http:AConversationforTransformation.com

2009-06-20T14:44:00.001-07:00

The "survival instinct" is nature's way of expressing love.
Neale Donald Walsch
http:AConversationforTransformation.com

2009-06-14T09:29:00.001-07:00

The economic downturn has made us reassess how we relate to one another, and we are gravitating towards comfort, not confrontation.
Judith Woods, the Daily Telegraph

2009-06-14T09:04:00.001-07:00

The Four C's of Productivity: Clear, Creative, Clean and Complete
http:AConversationforTransformation.com

2009-06-13T22:56:00.001-07:00

I am writing.

2009-06-13T22:07:00.001-07:00

Allan just taught me how to Ping!!! At ping.fm

IMAGINE PEACE

2007-10-07T23:01:00.001-07:00



	www.IMAGINE PEACE.com Join the biggest online peace demonstration. If one billion people in the world think peace, we'll get peace. You may think: "Well, how are we going to get one billion people in the world to think PEACE?" Remember, each one of us has the power to change the world. Power works in mysterious ways. You don't have to do much. Visualise the domino effect and just start thinking PEACE. Thoughts are infectious. Send it out. The message will circulate faster than you think. It's time for action. The action is PEACE. Spread the WORD. Spread PEACE. Remember: A dream we dream together is reality. So stand up, speak out, and come together. Imagine all the people living life in peace. Copy and paste these mailouts: http://www.imaginepeace.co m/mailout1.html and http://www.imaginepeace.com/mailout2.html Email them to all your friends as a chain letter. Get them to send it on. Spread the word! On October 9th, we will IMAGINE PEACE as a tribute to John Lennon. Put banners on your websites. Put IMAGINE PEACE on your work computer. Put posters in your window. Send postcards. Put up flyers. Put them on your noticeboard at work or at school. You can even make T-Shirts. You can do it. Do it now. Get them all from the download section at www.IMAGINEPEACE.com/download.html Make wish trees in your school or workplace, and when the trees are full of wishes, send the wishes to the IMAGINE PEACE TOWER in Iceland. Email us photos & tell us what you're doing. love yoko

--
www.shelora.com
inspiration@shelora.com
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Pondering the Effects of Fire the Grid

2007-08-02T21:09:00.001-07:00

At two-thirty in the morning of July 17th I woke with a wave of nausea and watched a beautiful purple and white Mandala take shape behind my eyes, pulsing with delicate shifting patterns of white and purple light.

I was in an apartment near Stanley Park and went immediately to the beach nearby where people were already waiting for me for the Fire the Grid ceremony. Together we set up the tea lights I had brought in a huge circle. They made a heart of light in the centre and I made an altar with pink roses for the heart chakra, and musical instruments for joy. I gave the sage smudge I brought to a Native woman who smudged everyone as they arrived and joined the circle. People came in waves, finally close to two hundred people gathered in silence.

I said a few words about the ten million plus people that were gathered all over the world, celebrating our Oneness, and how the energy would go right through the heart of the earth to the iron crystal at its centre and be amplified a thousand times. Ten million times one thousand is Ten BILLION. That is more than humanity itself. We have reached critical mass!

I led the circle in a prayer for Humanity by Don Miguel Ruiz, and said the Sanskrit Salutation to the Dawn. Then there was a talking circle in which each person said what they were wanting to contribute to the event. Mostly it was LOVE.The talking circle ended magically precisely at 4:11 am. We sat in silence as the dawn swept the earth. The tea lights twinkled against the backdrop of the lightening sky, and the city lights across the ocean. It was GORGEOUS. When it was 5:11. I rang the chimes, took the hands of those on either side, and we rose as ONE. We were all so beautiful! There was purple light all over everyone. I suggested we sing "Let There be Peace on Earth and Let it Begin with Me." Then we sang "Happy Birthday" to Mother Earth. It was, after all, a "Rebirth day Party" for our Beloved Mother. I think She liked it! And it was definitely the best birthday party I have ever had.

Then we went for breakfast at Denny's.

And waited for signs of the miraculous.

For some of us the seeming opposite was true. But miracles come in strange forms.

Last night I went to the Memorial for a new friend I met five months ago, a Renaissance man named John Pifer. He was at the height of his career as a political commentator, writer, and spiritual practitioner. He had just gone to London and Paris, his favourite cities. Diabetes. Gone in five weeks, after a toe amputation.

When I visited him in the hospital, I could see he was dying. I went to him, gave him a huge hug, and asked him if he wanted me to touch him. He indicated yes, he wanted touch on his temples. So I put my hands on him and Divine energy flowed through me into his head. Tears flowed out of his eyes as he said "That was very powerful.I think I am finally getting it now. I feel so loved."

And just now, in the middle of the day, I lay down for a nap. I was woken again by the same wave of nausea, and this time there was a mandala of purple and GOLD pulsing light. Waves of it, intricately veined and patterned, pulsing like flames of liquid gold and purple flame. It was exquisite and lasted for some five minutes or more. It feels as if there is some transmission of Divine energy being downloaded. My friend who was recently enlightened tells me it is just chane and purification. But I wish they would let up on the nausea thing!

There are those who are looking for some more tangible form of confirmation that something changed on July 17th. Stanford University, which has a system of measuring Human consciousness, has been recording the patterns for twenty-odd years. They see spikes upwards and downwards when there are major events like 9/11 or the Tsunami. They recorded a decided spike in energy on July 17th.

According to Neale Donald Walsch, we are now in the midst of a Divine transmission of energy unlike anything we have ever known before. It took 300 years for Humanity to revision itself during the Renaissance. This time it will take about thirty years, but the next three or four years the process of Ascension will accelerate. Barbara Hand Clow explains that this correlates perfectly with the Mayan Calendar culminating in the final year of a a 26,000 year cycle with 260 days in 2011 and 2012.

As Gangaji said this past weekend that I spent with her, Humanity is making the most important choice it has ever made, a choice between Ascension and Armageddon. She said, with a wry smile, "I know which one I want for us!" It is a choice each of us individually must make, knowing, or trusting that each one that does powerfully choose to wake up will light up a thousand others with their love.

The ONE of us is waking from a long nightmare of separation. There are those who will continue to gather evidence of Armageddon and the Judgment of Hell that is being visited upon us. But, as Gangaji pointed out, each of us has the choice of what we want to make our lives a sign of, pointing to Heaven or to Hell. The most important thing she taught was that it is by embracing the realm of Hell, the horror of human existence, all of it, the good, the bad and the ugly, as part of the Divine Oneness, the perfect mandala that we all are, that we can all awake and remember who we really ARE, and findn Heaven on Earth. That is the sweetest nectar of all, the reward for the willingness to embrace the encounter with the dark side, the fear and judgment, the pain and suffering of the Hell Realm in whatever form it takes for you. She said nobody wants to go there, there is plenty of evidence for the suffering of loss and gain. But, she explained, underneath all loss and gain, if we enquire authentically, we come to a place where there is only love.

It is the willingness to distinguish the awareness of this love that will eventually save us from the nightmare of war, greed and lack, the rampage of hate, death and destruction that seems to be running us into utter madness and devastation. This is so in ALL our relations. The war between us all must end. I pray for those who hate and fear each other that there come an end to their suffering.

And so I want to send my gratitude and blessings to all light workers everywhere who participated in faith and hope on July 17th.

Because by your simple faith in being there in whatever way you did, even in your sleep, you had the courage to Find Hope in Hell. For those of you who came to Stanley Park, rising in the dark to face a new dawn you demonstrated just how powerful one act of faith in can be.

Let that choice reverberate throughout your lives as it has through mine. And, as you do so, may you be blessed by the gentle beating of angel wings shedding their comfort on all who yearn for Love's gentle embrace.

Angels are strewing little white feathers in the oddest of places. Last night I am certain there were angels inside the swelteringly hot Masonic Hall where we gathered in the sweletering heat to remember John's life. At the back of the room I found a tiny white feather. It must have been carried in by the refreshing breeze that swept through the hall as his friends spoke, though I did not see it float to my feet. It was just there. Then, after I drove a newly enlightened friend home, I found another feather on the floor of my car. There are angels everywhere, if you choose to see them.

My dearly beloved friends, be prepared for more such waves of glorious healing all over the world. It is subtle, invisible, but do not mistake that for non-existent. The scoffers and the nay-sayers are simply filled with cynicism, resignation, doubt and fear. They are looking for proof that nothing happened so they can continue in the egoic self righteousness of despair.

Know that negativity, that sense of separation and hopelessness is being burned off and transformed and purified as we sleep and move in our days. Our relationships are being transformed. All hatred, jealousy and greed is being held up to the light to see it as it really is, the face of fear and control, anxiety and worry.

There is an opportunity, more accurately, perhaps, a challenge being given to each one of us to restore integrity to our relationships. As Reverends Austin and Mary Hennessey told us so movingly last night, look to see who you love, who you have lost connection with, who you need to forgive or be forgiven by, and simply love them. Tell them you love them. Send them your blessings. Recognize the pain of their struggle. Acknowledge the contribution that they have made to your life. Love them.

I say, moreover, clean up your act on every level. Make peace. Create beauty and order. Physically restore your own personal environment to integrity, whether it be by Feng Shui or purging the clutter. Prune the deadwood in our relationships so that they can flourish.

Allow the flame of Violet healing light to shimmer in your mind. Invite the presence of the Divine into your day, and surrender to this powerful process of Love that is sweeping the planet and penetrating everything and everyone.

Anything that is UNLIKE love will be purged. It feels like a giant tsunami wave of nausea and poisonous rage being released from the Hell Realm to express itself fully as it spews onto this planet.

But I assure you that there is an equally massive wave of Divine Love flowing in to take its place. Powerful shift is taking place. Nothing is the same, We have received, and are continuing to receive, healing infusions of emergency aid, transmissions of joy and love and peace that are transforming our consciousness in ways we can't even begin to imagine. It is like a huge process of birthing a new way of being, and nothing worth having is without labour. But the joy of the new birth, the innocence and hope in that lovely child's eyes makes every wave of nausea utterly worth it!

That is what happened on July 17th: an opening of the Heart Chakra of the planet and an outpouring of love unlike anything seen in this world before. I believe that this is only an indication of what is coming. Hold onto your seat-belts, folks. It's going to be a wild ride!

May peace prevail.
Shelora

In the Interests of Peace

2007-07-30T16:45:00.001-07:00

Many times I have asked myself, "How can we have peace in the Human family, if we can't create peace in our own families of origin?

In an attempt to come to terms with this question, I recently went into retreat with a beautiful woman named Gangaji, a shining beacon of light and a reassuring reflection of deep stillness in a chaotic, confusing sometimes horrifying world of greed, and hatred and arrogant self righteousness. The words "Let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with me," take on new meaning and depth in her eloquent, elegant presence.

Suffice it to say, I am utterly taken by her words and her artfully simple skill in seeing underneath the story of suffering that holds humanity in its grip as she reveals how giving up our own personal horror stories can serve Humankind.

Therefore in the interests of an sharing an enquiry into what might create peace in my own personal world, with the intention of extending that light to illuminate the collective Oneness that we are, I am going to quote some of what Gangaji to say in her article in July's Common Ground. She too had a struggle to come to peace within herself and her family, her vigil for peace, and now being a torch to light the way, is inspiring to say the least.

In her radiant demonstration of the possibility of a peace that includes every ONE of us, I hold a vision of our coming to peace together. I am in a ruthless process of investigating what is TRUE in order to bring an end, for once and for all to the war, both within and without.

I have certainly suffered in my life. I have certainly inflicted suffering on others. I have been left hanging swinging in the wind. I have triumphed over adversity that would have left others bitter and closed. I have opened to it all, utterly, experienced and embraced all of it, including the horror, and I am grateful for all of it. I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that birth, death, loss, gain, none of it is real. Every part of it has been and will always be part of the Divine design, an opportunity for discovering and remembering who I really am.

As with all stories, the story of the seemingly inevitable war for love, and the equally adamant defense against it, the self righteous indignation in fighting for what I perceived as stolen from me, the ego battle of defense against the perceived loss and gain, the fight for approval and against guilt and judgment, against exquisitely painful suffering, and devastating humiliation, all of that became collapsed, diminished, for a time, into a game to see who was the greatest victim in order to earn the greatest possible love and attention for our wounds.

In the course of this struggle to know myself, I have been pushed through the eye of the needle, into and through the realm of Hell, and back again, to discover Heaven on Earth. I have known the extravagant bliss of being deeply, wildly loved and the equally wild grief of loss. I have tasted the glorious ecstasy of seeming loss and gain, all in the fight for survival of something or someone that I now discover doesn't exist. Underneath it all, there is only spacious silence and shimmering awareness, no winning and losing, no living or dying. There is just what is, in all its beauty and horror. All. Nothing and no one left out. Everything included, all of it, results in the beauty and truth of simply accepting what I am and what you are. Love.

I now realize it was all a story I made up, a tragic story of lack and unworthiness, compensated for by a success story of a strong suit of creative self expression. Which all means nothing at all. Nothing except what I create it to mean. It is a meaning making world. That is what humanity is doing all the time, making up and justifying an ongoing horror story of greed and destruction, good guys and bad guys, looking good, avoiding looking bad, all totally without awareness that it is a game, a fabrication, a gigantic game of "let's pretend." And we have taken it all so seriously! We forgot to laugh!

The impact of that story, of what happened, and what I made up that meant about me, the inner war that it created, has played out over a lifetime. An upset little five year old girl has been running my life. Along with most of humanity, in all its beauty and ugliness, horror and ecstasy, I fought for love, defended against it, and finally surrendered to it. When I did that I finally came Home to who I really am, the beautiful, innocent, loving compassionate, loving, generous, innocent person who has been here all along.

In an explosion of joy, I discovered that you cannot lose who you truly are. It is indestructible, eternal, and wonderful. It is like falling in love for the first time. You just find yourself bursting into laughter for no reason. And seeing all the struggle, the pain, the suffering, as now optional. A choice. I am free!

The bittersweet truth of that exploded into my awareness this weekend in an exercise in which we asked one another, simply, "What do you love?"

Astonished, what burst out of my mouth was, "My sister."

And that, my friends, is the bare and honest Truth of it. Love. It can't be defended against or explained or understood. It just is. Under all gain and loss, all wrong and right, there is only love, vast, boundless, compassionate, magnificent, and real. And that is the only thing that IS real. Everything else but that is only story based on a HUGE lie, the lie that there isn't enough for everyone, that love is a scarce resource that must be earned, fought for, and eventually lost. Love is not something that can be accomplished, it just is. Hoarding is does not protect against the phantom of death. Death does not exist! The body is just more "stuff." Stuff does not exist. It is just molecules of stardust moving around at an incredibly dense speed. There is enough for all of us. Impossibly extravagant giving is not a way to lose. There is more than enough for all of us. We can afford to be generous, to discover and tap into a magnificent eternal abundance that is available to all of us. The more we share the more we have!

That competition, that struggle, that battle for survival depends on a perceived scarce resource (sometimes called mother's love or father's approval, or sometimes projected onto some all powerful Father figure who wants us to behave to earn His approval and avoid the punishment of Hell,) has governed all the competition for attention in my life, and all the fear of rejection that I have experienced and guarded against, and, naturally attracted.

I suspect all of us have one version or another of this fight for survival, this fear of annihilation, humiliation, devastation, loss. Most of us compensate, strategize, manipulate, charm, hide, plan, and somehow attempt to control the outcome of the game, to protect ourselves by gain. Without realizing it, we are swimming in a completely unreal, and finally totally unnecessary game, a game made up out of shadows outside the wall of the cave we are hiding in, nothingness.

The winner of this insane game of musical chairs, if you will, with only one perceived winner and everyone else left out, takes the booby prize: money, which is supposed to signify success. Or perhaps the booby prize is feeling "superior" or "right" or "better than," or "stronger" or " smarter." But essentially what we fight for is our story of loss and pain, our individual ego identity that says "There must be some way out of here!" We created our ego in the tiny made idea of separation as salvation, to defend ourselves against pain or being controlled or rejection or comparison or any of the other things the ego says. Tragically, the thing we put our trust in to protect us creates exactly the opposite of what we crave. It separates us from and distant from deep and abiding love, peace, joy and innocence. Instead it gives us an identity as a powerless, oppressed, helpless victim, wounded, hurt, and justified in retaliating in self-righteous indignation.

All this story of the ego identity clearly doesn't satisfy or fulfill our true need which is for the sweet joy of meeting truly, authentically in love.
I now realize I can choose to be free or to suffer. The way out of suffering is to forgive myself, extend compassion to the five year old girl who felt so humiliated and exposed, the nine year old who felt so terrorized and shamed. That upset little girl has been running my life. Her upset inflicted on others has had a huge impact on the inauthenticity of my relationships. I am willing to have it stop here. The costs to all concerned, including myself, have been too great. I am choosing to leave a legacy of peace and forgiveness, rather than one of pain, judgment and suffering, fear and loathing, to be passed on to the next generation. I am choosing to stop. I am choosing to go back to the innocent wonder of what occurred before the Fall from innocence. As Joni Mitchell so eloquently says," We are stardust. We are golden. And have to get back to the Garden."

In the interests of calling it off, please refer to the following powerfully simple teaching from Gangaji who I am spending this weekend with.

   "In the interest of peace, perhaps it is time to take an honest look at what you consider to be "problems" you will see that you first have to go into memories of the past in order to generate a story of the supposed problem. No matter what the world is reflecting, whether circumstances are beautiful or terrifying, if your internal story is one of victimhood, you will suffer. IF you are quite certain that you aren't telling yourself a story of victimization,and yet you continue to suffer, then I suggest you are lying to yourself. You are telling yourself some thread of an ancient story of how you have been wronged. Striking out in anger or revenge always involves a story of victimization. Seeing how this victim story plays out in your own life is an important step toward realizing true freedom. When you really see it you see that it has to be recreated in your mind each time it plays….to play it through takes energy, attention, belief, emotion, and some kind of masochistic pleasure in the pain. Yes, it is shocking! To see this operating within your own mind can be quite disturbing.
   To stop being a victim doesn't mean to trivialize the horror in your life, to deny it, to gloss over it or repress it. It means you can fully meet whatever appears. At a certain point you You don't have to run, hide, justify, wail, curse or moan. You can just meet life as it is. Are you willing to let your stories of victimization go? Are you willing to let all those horrible aggressors go unpunished?
   At a certain point you will have to be willing to just call it off. Yes, there has been horrible suffering, and you have been on both ends of it. You have perpetuated it, and you have experienced it directed at you. Are you willing to end it? You are free to suffer, and you are free to stop suffering. No one can end it but you. That is where your freedom is. Conscious freedom is the freedom to meet suffering consciously, and then consciously let it go. The bondage is in being unaware of the choice. You can choose to be free, or you can choose to suffer. It is up to you.
   Everyone has experienced the sweet release of forgiveness, as well as the hard coldness of not forgiving. You know the difference, and you know the investment in the story that keeps a lack of forgiveness in place. You also know the relief when you actually forgive and let go of the burden.
   Now is the time to forgive. Horrible things are continually being done all over this planet, in your own individual minds and in the collective mind. To forgive these horrors does not necessarily mean to forget. You can forgive and let go without forgetting. A huge learning and humbling occurs when you are willing to see the story of humanity with all its horrors. Yet you can also recognize how much effort is needed to hang on to the story. You can see that all the effort and attention put into hanging on are actually a meditation on not forgiving. The stories continue to replay with an obsession over what should have been done or what might be done again.
   Continuing to replay the story saps your energy. It is exhausting. I honour the need to remember and to witness the horror that has been done and is still being done. But usually we bring to that memory more hatred, suffering, and misery.
The futility and waste of this kind of tribal familial warfare is going on within our minds as well. "I'm not going to let go of what they did to me, because it was wrong.Yes, wrongs have been done and are still being done. There is no need to forget or deny the wrongs that have been done both to you and by you, but you can let go of suffering over them. "
Forgive them, for they know not what they do" is the truth.
Any war that is going on because of what happened yesterday is the result of ignorance, or holding on to some idea of revenge. It is very tempting to hold onto these kinds of views, because there is some pleasure in it, and that pleasure must be recognized. It is the pleasure of egoic righteousness. When you are unwilling to forgive you are holding on to a story of your suffering and what it did to you, and you are cursing them, whether consciously or unconsciously. You must be willing to stop the karma within yourself, be willing to say, "No, this time it goes no farther than me.' This is the willingness to be at peace. The willingness to forgive is the natural outgrowth of the willingness to be free, and gives you the temptation to hold on.
Finally, to be able to forgive this whole experience of humanity, with all its functions, drives, aggressions and desires, is to recognize what is untouched by any of that, what remains pure, innocent and free even in the grossest of stories. In our desire to hold on to revenge, we actually keep ourselves from the experience of freedom. As with everything else, in our desire to hold on to one thing, we keep something else away. In the desire to give something, we actually receive. You can inquire directly within: What am I not willing to forgive?"
As you do this,you find another opportunity to bring to consciousness what is not consciously seen, what might be holding your mind in bondage. No effort is needed here, only the willingness to be completely honest. Once you have honestly seen what it is you are not willing to forgive, you might also find it helpful to ask yourself: "What am I willing to forgive?" Recognize forgiveness and savour it for a moment. It is important not to force anything, just to welcome all into the heart of consciousness. Can you forgive? Can you accept forgiveness?"
Gangaji, Common Ground, July, 2007

Even the Bad Guys Have Good Guys Inside

2007-07-27T14:56:00.001-07:00

~ An Open Letter to the Leaders of the World ~

On one hand, we want to thank you. You have provided us with such adversity and it is this that has finally made us stronger. You have been formidable foes, but we are learning that this world will get better only when we love our enemies and see the good in them. We know that every bad guy has a good guy inside. And we know that spark of divine essence that dwells deep within our own beings, also lies deep within yours.

If you were to come and join us at our table, you would find curiosity, friendship, and forgiveness. Just because you have treated us badly does not mean that we hold a grudge against you. We would, however, expect you to understand that we reject your authority and that you will find no support for your plans and schemes among us. We simply no longer choose to be manipulated.

Although there will be obstacles, we are willing to start over. We are prepared to be responsible for our own lives now. We must discard your Cards, Vaccines, and Chip Implants because they have too many strings attached. We must turn off your television and radio programs until their messages become uplifting. And we will start to rebuild our lives, without your help, by first living together in small self-sufficient communities. If need be, we will grow our own food in our backyards as well as in common areas, and we will barter and trade among ourselves. We will also nurture our children with foresight, and learn to love and heal each other so peace and freedom can return to all of our lives.

As we see it, you are also being stalked by your own evolution and you will change. You cannot avoid being drawn out of your secrecy at this time. The only path left for you to follow is one of conscience. Like us, you are realizing that there is no separation between you and what you perceive. We are all beginning to understand that when we inflict pain or hardship on others, we inflict it upon ourselves. Once you fully comprehend what you are doing to yourself, you won't be able to continue. Enlightenment is coming to all who renounce conflict and violence. Even an unscrupulous, sophisticated robber baron can evolve into a higher, more loving entity. He is no less entitled to the Grace of our Great Creator than the people he has conspired against.

Just that one small transformation in your attitude whereby you begin to see, without blinders, that you only lack the opening of your heart in order to take the next step -- a step for which you are poised and ready, but which all of your power and money cannot provide for you. Isn't it ironic, now, that you have dared for generations to hide our own hearts from us? Ever since we were trusting little schoolchildren reciting your pledges and practicing your patriotic ceremonies, you deceptively taught us to place our hand over our heart on the left side of our chest! Only now are we locating our hearts in the exact center of our chests, and we are learning how to activate the wondrous feelings that have long slept dormant within us.

The people of the Earth yearn for the day when we will all live together in peace. You cannot stop us from advancing toward the love we all deserve. That glorious moment nears, when, instead of being adversaries, we will stand together as brothers and sisters whose consciences have awakened, as equals whose time of heaven on Earth has come. Until then: for all the people who needlessly suffer and die because of your economic and political manipulations; and for all the animals who face extinction or life in a cage that doesn't even allow them enough space to turn around; and for all the beautiful plants and trees of the forests who burn indiscriminately, we ask one last question. Why must you continue to bring harm and havoc to all the living things of the Earth when your own truest happiness would automatically come from helping us instead?

From The Intenders of the Highest Good Novel

My Intention for today is:

I Intend that I am seeing everyone, including the current world managers, in their highest light.

Re: Very Good News

2007-06-20T07:23:00.001-07:00

My Dear Rachid,

That is FANTASTIC NEWS!!!
I am so happy and grateful to hear that M'Barek will have a new leg!
This is truly a miracle!
I have been praying and praying! I knew something would come through.
You know, Rachid, it is written that "miracles are the normal order of things, and when they are NOT happening, something has gone wrong. "
This is the nature of love and faith. It can move mountains.
You BOTH truly are in the arms of the angels.
In fact, I think you ARE an angel
You know, the person who wrote that song, "In the Arms of the Angels" is Sarah MacLaughlin, who lives right here in.Vancouver!
I am very touched by how much you love your friend M'Barek, and how you never gave up your faith that somehow he would get a leg.
Your faith and your love for your friend is so powerful that it reached out all over the world!
People from England, France, Spain, and even the U.S. and Canada, responded by helping someone they had never even met.
Trevor and Elaine and Angela and Sandy and Lisa and Dr. Dennis and Carolyn and Colin and Thom and Pattie, and Sonia and others that I don't even know,
all of us were so touched by M'Barek's story and your courage and determination to help him survive and return to the desert with a new leg.
I know that all the people here who prayed or gave money to help save his life and pay for the clinic will smile when I tell them you have found a way to pay for his new leg.
I am sending my blessings and gratitude to the nurse in France who gave the money for the leg.
I am so moved and inspired by your determination and your love and M'Barek's courage in the face of such a grievous loss, but mostly by the coming together through love to heal a fallen friend.
If we can do that, we can heal the world!.
"Together there is nothing we cannot do!"
Thank you so much for keeping your faith strong and never giving up.
Did he smile when you told him?
Now he will be able to be a guide in his beloved desert, again!
Did you remind him of his promise to take me to Jerusalem? I know he is a man of honour, and if he makes a promise, he will keep it if he can!
Now it is time for a celebration of gratitude to the SOURCE OF ALL MIRACLES!
On July 17th for one hour all over the world, there will a global celebration of gratitude, peace and joy.
For one hour at 11:11 am GMT, 10 million people or more in 87 countires.will be praying for peace and giving thanks to God for all that is good in their lives.
This Fire the Grid meditation on peace can change the course of humanity in one hour. It is the beginning of a huge Global Project called Project Cause, which will unite all those who love humanity into one entire gobal council dedicated to the healing of this planet.
I will be celebrating with a group of friends and like minded people.
It will be 4:11 am here. We will stay up all night and watch the sunrise on the beach on July 17th.
I surely will tell them the story of how the floods in Merzzouga destroyed 20 houses, and took nine lives, including M'Barek's mother, father and two of his three sisters,
and how, while he was in a coma, his friends got him to a hospital where they amputated his leg, and how, because of the love of his friends, M'Barek was carried by ambulance across Morocco to a clinic where he got his life back, and how you took him to your home and cared for him until we raised the money for the clinic to help him get his leg back,
and how, once he is healed he will lead a caravan of camels in a pilgrimage of peace across the desert and follow Abraham's path to Jerusalem, because he promised me he would.

When people of all faiths can co-operate in such a venture, it is truly awe-inspiring.

I will tell my new friend Sobhi, (who speaks fluent Arabic and comes from Jerusalem and who is a documentary film-maker) about this.
I am sure that together we will find a way to make this journey to Jerusalem together, and document the miraculous power of llove to create miracles.

"Together there is nothing we cannot do."

Onward!

Shelora

On 20/06/07, rachid aderdor wrote from Fes, Morocco,

Dear Shelora ,

i am happy to tell you i have very good news for all of us, i found help for M'barek,

i talked with a freind of me in france i did not see him for more than 4 years , he is a nurse and he contacted his chef in the hospital of Bayonne in france and they are going to help him, i don't know how but i am waiting the rest of news,but he told me he will help by money or by anything to get m'barek a leg

wow .....i am so happy because finaly we got the goal .

He is In the Arms of the angels.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNGByf8OpTQ

The Miraculous Moment We Have Been Waiting For: Fire the Grid video clips online

2007-06-17T09:19:00.001-07:00

Dearly Beloved Friends,

I am inviting you to join in a "RE-BIRTHDAY" PARTY FOR our PLANET !

For all of you who love humanity, for all of you who asked, "What can I do to help?" this is the moment we have been waiting for.

Please take a few moments to watch the attached videos on YOU-TUBE. It is the story of a phenomenal woman named Shelley Yates who, with only three people and no budget, has created an amazing GLOBAL PROJECT that has touched the hearts of millions.

It is called

FIRE THE GRID

The GRID refers to the body of energy that surrounds the planet made up of each and everyone of us 6 Billion of us connecting to the ONE of us.

This event is taking place for one hour on:

July 17th at 11:11 am. G.M.T. (Greenwich Mean Time)

Shelley's story of death and rebirth, both for herself, and her four year old son, and now for a dying planet, is so amazing that, with only three people and no budget, it has touched the hearts of 8 or nine million in 87 countries.

Go to www.firethegrid.com and read her message. Watch these videos and catch her enthusiasm.

Part 1:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=u2c69egUeY8

Part 2:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=rWBK9nJ4bBY

Part 3:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yA1t-nyA0v4

Part 4:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=FzrPCGP60As

Part 5:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66zQg0v_gn4

Part 6:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_6ajmdt39A

Part 7:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWtJncxNeLI

Part 8: (4.5 min)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=T2sR8DWTD3U

She is so authentic in telling her story of how she moved from being a miserable, unhappy depressed single mother on welfare and Prozac, to a joy-filled woman making a tramendous difference on the planet, that you can't help but be moved.

The wonderful thing is she is telling us that the only thing we all have to do is CELEBRATE whatever gives us joy, for one beautiful hour, all at the same time, to raise the spiritual energy of this planet for all time.

And that is just the begininng. Once we have joined, and lifted the energy of the planet to the vibrational frequency of joy and gratiude, there will be a new project called Project CAUSE which will join ALL the efforts of humankind in an outpouring of love and healing for our Beloved Mother Earth, so that ALL the people of this human family have clean water, air, healthy food, and a place to sleep at night.

Isn't that cause for celebration?

That means if you want to make love to your partner, or bring your kids into bed with you and cuddle, or sing or dance, or listen to beautiful music, or rejoice and think of loved ones who have passed on, or meditate, or simply kick back and watch the sun rise, whatever brings you fully into your heart and fills it with love, that is what is needed at this time.

Can you get behind that?

I sure can.

I am throwing my party on the beach in Vancouver. We will gather at sunset, and stay there all night, until the sun comes up at dawn. The event begins here at 4:11 a.m. and goes until 5:11 a.m. Dawn is at 4:25 a.m. Sunrise is at 5:25 a.m.

Please join me in bringing in the new dawn for a new humanity.

Practice Random Acts of Kindness. Find your own joy and practice it. Listen to music of high vibration that uplifts you and fills your heart with joy

You can Heal our Planet (5:35):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yA1t-nyA0v4
(available in multiple languages, a text intro for people)
All are getting thousands of hits.

Someones invitation, visual with music (3:47)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mH9OYDZ6JmU

TEAM HUMANITY - SAVING THE WORLD ONE MIND AT A TIME

2007-05-31T06:34:00.001-07:00

I recently spent a day with Neale Donald Walsh listening to him talk about his concept of paradigm change which he has outlined in his books, especially What God Wants, and Tomorrow's God. I like what he had to say about the future.

He says that we are in an age equivalent to the Age of Enlightenment, more commonly known as the Renaissance, in which it took three hundred years for humanity to completely change its mind about itself. I call what is happening on the planet "Te Quickening" because he believes that we are in such an age now, but it will take ONE TENTH the time. That means thirty years to a complete revisioning of humanity's purpose. We are making the most crucial decisions about ourselves, and enlightened self interest will dictate that we get it that this is One World, and we are IT! It feels to me like the dark ages and the age of enlightenment running concurrently giving us the chance to decide whether we choose LOVE or we choose FEAR. That concept, that there are really only two choices, fear, and everything that flows from it, panic, anxiety, sickness, poverty war, and all forms of lack and scarcity consciousness, exploitation, greed, force, control, all of that....as the Course defines ego, or lack consciousness, which is fundamental separation, or Love which flows from awareness of all that is, joining, creating oneness, restoring innocence, remembering peace, promoting generosity, compassion, kindness, healing, and grace is, I believe, the greatest contribution that the Course has given to humanity. Most people do not realize that that awareness was the guiding idea of the Course. It has infiltrated the consciousness of much of the spiritual discourse that allows such concepts as the law of Attraction, forgiveness, gratitude etc to be built upon the basis of CHOICE of our thoughts. Conscious choosing. This is the most powerful awareness one can have, and this is why the Secret is such a blessing. The fact that clever marketing has spread the idea of choosing ones thoughts and intentions to manifest into form what is only a thought is such a powerful concept to introduce at a mass level. The learning curve from personal prosperity to planetary consciousness of abundance cannot be far behind. It is not an either or situation. We ARE the planet, and by prospering ourselves we create the means and the willingness to extend this prosperity to all. A leap of faith, granted, but we are going off the cliff together, and learning to fly! The alternative is too dreadful to contemplate. It is so depressing, but given that depression can lead to anger and lift us OUT of depression into ACTION, it gives one a framework within which to understand the quantum leap of faith in humanity's ability to transform itself that is currently underway! How do you like THEM apples?

At the end of "What God Wants" Neale says that since are connected to one another, If we become aware that we ARE this vast infinitely complex matrix of connections, we become more calm, more clear and more peaceful. And then he goes on to say that if you really understand the implications of what he is saying, that there is no OUT THERE OUT THERE, that we are "The Only Thing There IS!" (TOTTI for short) this is who we really ARE, and understood the implications of that for the planet, we are barely able to sit still. This is exactly what happened to me while I was listening to Neale speak.

Neale told us that there were probably six or eight of us in the room who knew, and had always known, that they were called to be spiritual messengers. He said that what we should do about that was to begin to speak about these things. He said to put an ad in the paper and announce that we had something to say that speaks to the spiritual thirst on this planet. Tell people, he said, and speak for free. And once you begin, people will begin to come. The message will attract more and more people and you will soon find yourself speaking to large groups of people. This is how anyone who has ever accomplished anything significant in terms of influencing people has accomplished it.

It seems to me that we are in a momentous time, and the time has come to speak out about these magnificent new ideas of who we really are. The consequences of NOT doing so are obvious. The world is operating out of an old paradigm that dictates that there is a God OUT THERE who WANTS something from us. If we give this father figure what he apparently wants, in terms of certain behaviours that please him, then we are rewarded and get to go to the hereafter and live happily ever after in some form of Heaven.If we don't, of course, we end up in Hell. Nothing suggests that this Heaven or Hell is available to us here and now, and is self created. It is all happening TO us, usually against our will, and the only hope we have of salvation is to rigidly adhere to some set of moral rules or other which should control our lives, since our true human nature us basically evil, and in dire need of control and correction, and eventually reward or punishment, depending on how well we obey the criteria of what this God outside our self wants! Of course, there are different versions of this God, and what he wants, and battles are being fought as we speak about which God is the TRUE God, and will therefore make which group of adherents victorious. And especially the GOD OF MONEY, (In God We Trust) is the battle drawn.

The only thing that every religion seems to agree on is that God is EVERYWHERE. And that includes US. If we are made in God's image, then why would we think WE are left out? This concept of scarcity extends to the concept of GOD, and the idea that we don't NEED anyone or anything, that we are independent and autonomous and SEPARATE beings, is our solution. That is the concept of SEPARATION as SALVATION. That thinking, our BEST thinking, has gotten us where we are today. I believe it is time for a new way of thinking, and we are blessed to be living in a time of powerful, massive spiritual transformation on this planet which will change the way we see think and feel forever. I personally find this an incredibly positive and hopeful time, despite the nightmare which is strutting it's stuff and continuing to try and convince us that this is just the way it is, and THIS is reality.

REAL reality is so much more wondrous and miraculous than what passes for reality that sometimes I can barely contain my joy. The knowledge that we are NOT who we think we are, that we have forgotten who we REALLY are, and are slowly awakening from a long and tedious dream of despair and terror into a new dawn, and are finally remembering our REAL ESTATE......well...the possibilities are boundless.

If you want to explore these possibilities and perhaps become as encouraged and excited as I am, read, of course, "Conversatons with God, but more importantly, read "What God Wants" and "Tomorrow's God." And then, my friends join me on TEAM HUMANITY.

MISS FRIZZLE and the Magic School Bus are about to head out and begin the greatest adventure of all. Come on aboard. We have a planet to save!

I am seeing Judith Skutch/Whitson, the founder of the Foundation for Inner Peace this afternoon! Halellujah!

2007-02-26T14:00:00.000-08:00

"When you have become truly dedicated to the doing of the will of the Father in Heaven, the answer to all your petitions will be forthcoming because your prayers will be in full accordance with the Father's will, and the Father's will is ever manifest throughout this vast Universe. What the True Son desires and the infinite Father wills IS. Such a prayer cannot remain unanswered, and no other sort of petition can possibly be fully answered."
The Urantia Book

Wow! this is the power of prayer at work! I have been truly blessed.

I have an appointment this afternoon with Judith Skutch (now Whitson) the woman who, along with Kenneth Wapnick founded the Foundation for Inner Peace which publishes A Course in Miracles. She is the person who will ensure that the Course is translated into Arabic and give me her blessing for my pilgrimage of peace to Jerusalem. I am SOOOOOO excited! This is my dream coming true.

Judith is a friend of Dr. Helen Shucman, the person who channeled the Course, a friend of Dr. Jon Mundy, and Gary Renard, and all the other Course in MIracles teachers. She is the grand DAME of the whole movement, the only one, except Kenneth Wapnick, and Dr. Jon Mundy, (who is my friend and who spoke to Judith for me) who is still living since the Course was completed in 1976. She is the person who, when I wrote to her asking if the Course had been translated into Arabic, (thanks to Gary Renard, author of the Disappearance of the Universe, hooking us up) emailed me, saying, "We have been waiting for you, Shelora!"

Well, I have been waiting to meet her for 18 years! Yahoo! I will meet with her and tell her of my vision of how the translation of the Course into Arabic is part of my vision of Peace in the Middle East. Thank God there is WIFI in my hotel room that my Beloved friends Thom and Pattie (who publish Connection magazine) gifted me, or I would not have known that she shifted her appointments so that she could see me.

The Holy Spirit works in wondrous ways!
Shelora
--

For those of you who do not know my story, read my blog at www.shelora.com

Re: Miracle in Rabat, Inch'Allah! By the Grace of God!

2007-01-24T08:58:00.000-08:00

On 24/01/07, sonia haynes wrote:

Hello Shelora,
Thank you for your beautiful email and message. When I said to you that
your reason for going to Barcelona sometimes is not the reason, I hope
that now you are seeing what I mean. Sometimes God sends us to places
using the only reason that would cause us to get up and go. Please do
not lose heart about finding love. It will happen as I have said once
this Karmic journey is completed. You see, at one time your friend
M"Barek helped you, in spirit you made an agreement that in this
lifetime you would be in the position to assist him in his hour of
need.
Your desire for love and your search for it created the space where you
could make it to begin your journey thus setting you on the path of a
lifetime. Had the message for you been "you will go to Europe where you
would eventually meet, help and become a catalyst for change in the
lives of so many", would you have gone? Would you have put aside your
dream of a mate, and allowed yourself to grow up beyond the high need
to now create that space within yourself for love to find you and
settle within you? The Shelora, I met that day in Lonsdale Quay was not
ready for such a thing. God has a way of giving us hope without us even
knowing what that message of hope is.
Thank you for allowing your heart to open and ever expand. Nothing can
close it now or ever. Thank you for being brave enough to still follow
the journey even when it seem that your desires are not arriving fast
enough. I promise you that love will be yours. My heart is full hearing
from your spirit.

I have a quick story. I have not sought love in my journey on this
planet because I found that my beloved is me. However I have taken the
path of being a light for others. The day we met I had chosen to put my
book in the Lonsdale Quay in order to promote my workshop. I know that
I am always being guided. The idea made no sense to me, however, I
always follow divine guidance so I booked my space, set up my booth, (I
think I forgot some of my promotional materials) and stood for hours
because, I forgot to bring a stool also. I am not a networker. I am not
a mass marketer. I sit in a quiet place and wait for the ones whose
hearts are open to the message to find me. When I have to go out into
the world it is an incredible burden for me. You see I love humanity, I
do not like the fear that keeps humanity bound is limitation and lack.
Based on the way that spirit has worked with me, I knew that I was in
the Quay to meet a very special angel who had gotten herself lost and
energetically knowing where she would be at that specific space in time
I showed up. I cannot say that I knew your name or what you looked
like. The outer appearance means nothing to me, I only know your
spirit.
Now had I just appeared as a customer, sense could not have been made
of our encounter. I had to take the form of a woman promoting a little
book and a message about the power of money to capture your attention.
(You know the same thing happened when I spent a fortune setting up at
The Women's Expo last year. I met an angel who was in the space
emotionally to open to finding her way back to joy.) Our meeting lifted
my heart. After I met you I had no more reason to be there.
What caught your attention about me? I was not selling readings... I
was not trying to make myself conspicuous.

What I am trying to say dear angel is that you go where you are guided,
and in showing up you are given an opportunity to grow extra plumes on
your wings. Had you not followed the call of your heart... you would
not now be at the crossroad where you will be rewarded with the joy of
a love that fills you beyond what you as a mortal can conceive. That is
not to say that you go back to longing for love although I know that
now you cannot. This is the message of hope for you. Keep your heart
open and wait for spirit to guide you to that place for your actual
meeting with the soul that is your heart flame. Continue your work and
the blessings of the Divine spirit be with you.
Much love to you,
Sonia.

On 23-Jan-07, at 8:41 PM, Shelora Fitzgerald wrote:

> And so I prayed.I asked God, the Universe, the Force, The Holy Spirit,
> Allah, Jesus, all of them, whatever that allness, that "I Am" ness is,
> to send loving healing energy to M'Barek and his friends, to give them
> courage and hope to help M'Barek. I asked my friend and fellow Course
> in Miracles healer,

Dear Sonia,
What a marvelous, perfect, and timely reply. Barek moved his finger, and I see him whole and complete. He will make himself a leg, if that is what is needed, but the miracle is he will come out of the coma, simple, humble, at peace, accept what Allah has given him to deal with, and deal with it. He has taught me the lesson of love and humility and service. I know that we have known each other before. He promised he would take me to Jerusalem on camel. Three weeks. Now he has one leg. But it does not matter, because Jerusalem, the memory of those glorious days when Jesus was alive, live in my heart as if they are now. Because there is ONLY now. Thank you and bless you Sonia for holding my spirit in your heart and in your vision. Yes, I have always known I have a date with destiny, and that I am to do great work in spreading the message of abundant peace and prosperity to the planet. There is more than enough for all of us. I was drawn to your stillness. It was represented by the meditation tapes. I was supposed to buy something from the parkade to get the parking free, but I did not have to buy a tape. I recall I said, "I could use a little of that peace that meditation will bring me. I wanted to hear your voice, but the fact is I knew from your poise, your stillness, and your obvious inner peace, that you were an enlightened being. But what a gift you are to the world, standing in the market place, solitary shining, radiant with joy. Your passion and your vision captivated me. And there have been many many signs along the way. The angels drop little white feathers as a guide for me. There were eleven pennies along the path as I went to take out the garbage. I listen to the still small voice now, as I go amongst the hustle and the bustle.
I too have found the Beloved, and it is me. Any man that falls in love with me, will do so watching me work, seeing me in action. I am a Spiritual Activist. Just watch me, and you will see, and how could you not love me? The person will be attracted by my energy, which, by the way, is so much more powerful now, that I am a force to be reckoned with. I had been operating under the radar before, but now I am so large that I am visible, even when I say nothing. Which is what I will do. Whooee! What a wonderful ride this is! I love you, now, forever, and for always, my simple shepherd. I love you and your people. You are noble, and wise, and humble, and you have always been so. Bless you for being you, and for being in my life, and for listening to your guidance that day. It was an miracle.
Shelora

Letter to Oprah: M'Barek's Story

2007-01-23T20:43:00.001-08:00

Ever since I read The Little Prince when I was nine years old, I have dreamed of going into the Sahara desert, and sleeping under the stars. I am sixty-three now, and this summer my dream came true. I have had the adventure of a lifetime.

While I was in Fes, Morocco, I was adopted by a poor family of fifteen, living in a four floor tenement, supported by their widowed mother on her policeman husband's pension. The last night I was there, they asked me to promise I would tell the world about them. I said I would go on Oprah and do just that!

I left Fes for the Sahara Desert where I rode for three days on a camel led by my guide, M'Barek, 28. A guide since he was 8, he has never been to school, yet he speaks seven languages, learned from tourists. He has never been to a mosque. He says the desert is his Mosque.

On the second day of our trek, we came to an oasis where we would have lunch and rest. M'Barek found the well was dry. He told me he would be back in half an hour with water. True to his word, he returned to the tent with a plastic gallon jar filled with water, with which he doused me, laughing: a Morrocan shower! I asked him where he had gotten the water. He told me he had dug a well. Two wells, in fact. How? With his hands! I am so grateful to this simple, joyful Berber man who took such good care of me.

So I was deeply saddened to hear that last week in flash floods in Essouira, M'Barek's house was swept away, killing his mother, father, and two of his sisters. They took him to the hospital in Erfoud, where they amputated his leg. He is in a coma. His friends raised 300 Euros to hire an ambulance to take him to a private clinic in Rabat, the capital of Morocco, at 50 Euros a night. This is more than most Morrocans make in a month. They are afraid if they put him in the public hospital he will be left to die.

They appealed me to help. If I appear on Oprah, it is because I promised God I would find a way to let the world help them, and the Secret led me here.

Miracle in Rabat, Inch'Allah! By the Grace of God!

2007-01-23T20:41:00.001-08:00

And so I prayed.I asked God, the Universe, the Force, The Holy Spirit, Allah, Jesus, all of them, whatever that allness, that "I Am" ness is, to send loving healing energy to M'Barek and his friends, to give them courage and hope to help M'Barek. I asked my friend and fellow Course in Miracles healer, Dr. Dennis Gaither, Psychiatrist, to tell me what the prognosis for someone who had ben in a coma for two weeks was. He told me, brain damage was likely, the longer that he stayed in the coma, that he needed to be fed intravenously, and by a feedign tube, he needed round the clock care, which he would not get in a public hospital. And the younger they are the better they do. I grieved the joyful, sunny, humble man who had taken such magnificent care of me in the desert, fed me, brought me water, made me laugh, and showed me the secrets of the desert, all the while, singing quietly his song of joy. I cried, I grieved. I let go. I accepted that it was not up to me, It was up to God, and to M'Barek. If he chose to go on, and be with his family, prehaps it was better than to live brain damaged, with one leg. How could he guide like that?

I asked my friends to pray. I asked my friend, Colin, who does long-distance energy work to send hin healing energy. He did so for a week. He told me that he saw M'Barek, "Is he a Blue Man of the Desert? he asked, "Yes, " I answered. "He is a Berber, the poorest of the poor in Morocco, so poor that the flood that took nine lives, four of them from M'Barek's family, is not even reported in the Moroccan news. No one takes note of the deaths. No one sends aid. I tried for three days to contact the Red Crescent, the equivalent of the Red Cross in Morocco. No response. Cannot be reached. They are left to take care of each other."

The Berbers, I discovered in Spain, are the Moors that Shakespeare speaks of, noble, elegant, and proud, who inhabited and ruled southern Spain for eight hundred years. They built L'Alhambra in Granada. They were scientists, architects who anticipated earthquakes, and allowed a gap in the slender alabaster columns so that the tremors would not destroy what must be one of the seven wonders of the World. They are wise, humble, noble people, nomads, now living simply in beautiful mud houses or tents, but extremely civilized, gentle, and kind people.

Colin told me M'Barek seemed, from what he could tell, much older than twenty-eight years old. He could only see his eyes, with his blue turban wrapped around his head. Colin told me he seemed at peace, content with what was happening, and he accepted the energy Colin sent him. He told me not to be sad, that M'Barek is fine, accepting of what has happened, at peace. I accepted that he might die. And I surrendered to that possibility. I accepted it. I felt his peace, let go, and gave him my permission to do if that was what he needed to do.

In fact, for two days I heard nothing, and I thought he might have died. I did not know. But I accepted and made peace with whatever happened. And on Sunday, I felt a shit, and a feeling of inexplicable Joy flooded through me. All day I focused my intention on M'Barek, while going through my day, meeting incredible people, and sharing the story with anyone who would listen.

I kept on sending him energy. I kept on seeing him in the light. I sent money. I asked my friends to help in any way that they could. One by one, people gave me money to send to M'Barek or sent it to Rachid, by Western Union. My cousin, Elaine Hobday, who recently lost her beautiful young daughter, Rosalind, to breast cancer, sent enough to keep M'Barek in the hospital for one day. I ws so encouraged by her kindness and generosity. It was like everyone was opening their hearts and what I wanted more than anything was for these three people to know that they are not alone, that we care for them, that we are touched by their tragedy, and we are willing to do something about it. They are not invisible. They exist, and they are one with us, and their lives have value.

And, of course, I realize now, that this is myself I am talking to. The action of love that I take in the world is given to myself. Because I am that man, who I consider to be the most humble, and richest man I have ever known.

I kept picturing him healthy and smiling, and laughing. I replayed every moment of those wonderful three days. I kept repeating his name, like a Mantra, and sending him all the love in my heart. I went to Western Union to send the money that my teacher friend Trevor gave, and came home. And there was an email from Rachid. He had been in the south, with his father, who gave him all the money he had, 1000 Dirhams. That is about ninety dollars. His life savings.Rachid told me that he had talked to the doctor, and M'Barek had moved his FINGER!
And he said that he should be out of the coma within a week!

It is a miracle. He will live! I am so grateful for this sign of life,

I cannot begin to tell you how much it means to me, all of you who have helped. You have made it possible for him to stay in the private clinic which was his only hope. Rachid says he is being very well cared for there. I am truly amazed and humbled by the gift that this experience has given me.

I now know, for absolutely sure, that I am not a body, I am Spirit, and I am free. As my friend, Dr. Gaither so eloquently put it, the portals of our love for each other have communicated across time and space, and demonstrated beond a shadow of a doubt what is Real. Only Love is real, and the healing came as he received and understood, at the level of his soul, how deeply loved he is. What a blessing this simple man has given me. This truth, which I knew previously only intellectually, is, as Dennis put it " now implicit, a part of the very fiber of my being" that we are not bodies. We are free. We DO NOT DIE! The Holy Relationship transcends time and space with the power of Divine Grace. We are all included in this blessing!

So thank you to all of you who offered your prayers and opened your hearts and some of your pocketbooks. It does not matter in what form you responded, and continue to respond, What matters is the outpouring of love that shifted everything. Never doubt that, as it says in A Course in Miracles, "Together we cannot do."
We are all ONE HOLY MIND JOINED IN ETERNITY

Bless us all, every one.! And THANK GOD for this miracle of healing which is available to all of us. THIS is the SECRET of the SECRET. This is the Law of Attraction at work. This is the healing power of love at work. That focused intention is what cut through the illusion of time and space and tapped into the realm of eternity.

On Sunday at Church where I went to listen to a lecture in a series on The Secret, the DVD that is sweeping the planet with a message of hope, of peace and prosperity for EVERY ONE. Austin and Mary Hennesy talked about the Vertical Axis that goes straight to the Kingdom of Heaven, and creates it here on Earth. They said, as it says in the Course in Miracles, that if you put the Peace of God, the Kingdom of Heaven, above all else, then all shall be given to you. Simple words, but profound in their implications.

Once you realize that, then you can have anything you want. And so it is.

In the midst of this process, I decided that I would take the opportunity to write to Oprah, and tell this story. She is looking for people to be on her show who have an amazing story to tell of how the Secret works in our lives. Proof, if you will, of ordinary miracles, using the law of attraction.

The last night I was in Fes with Assya and her family, Said, her brother, the musician, asked me to tell the world about them. I promised I would. I told him that some day I would be on Oprah telling the world about these people, their poverty, their generosity, and their beauty. And I would help them. I intend to make good on that promise, and I fully expect that when Jack Canfield and James Ray and all the others from the Secret DVD are on Oprah, I will be there with them. And if I am, it is because the Secret led me there.

Hold that thought, that i reach out to all the people watching the show and am able to touch their hearts and they send help to my friends in Merzouga.

Peace and prosperity and well being for all. That is my heart's desire.

Tragedy in Morocco - A Cry for Help

2007-01-19T08:08:00.000-08:00

I have not written much since I came home. I have been waiting for guidance as to the next step. It came in the form of a cry for help from my friend Rachid Aderedor in Morocco. We have kept in touch by Skype, and I received very sad news from him about a situation involving involving my Moroccan guide, M/Barek. There has been flash flooding in Merzouga, theh Oasis near the Sahara where M'Barek lives, or rather, lived. In the floods last week his house was destroyed. His mother, his father, and two of his sisters were killed. He survived, but in a coma.They took him to the hospital in Erfoud, 40 miles away, where they amputated his leg. This is the town where I stayed at Ahmed's house with his cousin Rachid, whose family has a hotel in Me\zouga. Rachid has stayed in touch with me. The thing is that in the public hospital in Erfoud, while he was and still is in a coma, they amputated his leg. So he is hanging on to life by a thread. This is the man who found me water in the Sahara desert, who sand joyfully and laughed as he caught me a lizard, the fish of the desert. He was my guide, my cook, and my friend. And now he needs help. In order to get him to a private hospital in Rabat, in the North of Morocco from Erfoud in the South, they raised 300 Euros to pay for and Ambulance to drive across Morocco. He is now in Hospital in Rabat. It costs 50 Euros a night. RAchid says that the treatment is much better than in the public hospitals, and he is praying that he lives. I sent money, of course, and I am now looking at International Global Aid agencies. No one ever knows about the flooding in Mersouga which wiped out a large part of their community last year. Because of Global Climate change, the heat has gotten hotter, and the floods have gotten more severe. They have never experienced flooding this bad. It is the Moroccan Katrina. But no one even knows it is happening! I need to find help, fast, to pay for M'Bareks's hospital, and eventually, if he lives, for a nw leg. Otherwise he cannot guide. He has no education. He speaks six languages, all learned from the tourists. He is a good man, 28 years old, and his life has been devastated. He needs help and he needs it now. Any suggestions?

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

The Path of Abraham: A Pilgrimage of Peace

2007-01-10T10:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends

This summer I went to Spain thinking I would walk El Camino Del Campostello. Instead I found myself alone with my guide in the Sahara desert in Morocco looking at the Face of God from atop a dromedary ( a one-humped camel.) As the camel swayed, I watched the magnificent sunset over the sand dunes. Enraptured, I found myself singing, in a language I did not know, an unbearably sweet song which my soul understood to be a hymn of praise to Jerusalem. In that sacred moment I made a solemn promise, a vow to myself and to God (which I consider the same entity) that not only would I remember this moment on my dying day, but I would work for the rest of my days to make peace in Jerusalem between all the different faiths.

Today I discovered this project:

http://www.abrahampath.org/about.php?lang=en

The building of this Abrahamic path of pilgrimage and worship is, I believe, essential to restoring peace to this planet through forgiveness, compassion and understanding.

In the words of the poet Rumi,

"Define and narrow me,
You starve yourself of yourself.
Nail me down with a box of cold words,
That box is your coffin.

I do not know who I am.
I am in astounded lucid confusion.
I am not a Christian, not a Jew,
not a Zoroastrian,
I am not even a Muslim....
I am the life of life.
I am that cat, this stone, no one.....
I see and know all times and worlds
As one, always one.

What do I have to do to get you to admit who is speaking?
Admit it and change everything!
This is your own voice echoing off the walls of God."

In the words of A Course in Miracles, the Voice for Love, perhaps that of Christ, states:

"The power of our joint motivation is beyond belief, but not beyond accomplishment.
What we can accomplish together has no limits,
because the call for God is the call to the unlimited."

Please help participate in this beautiful work of affirming and walking the path of peace.
--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

WOW! Thank you, Universe!

2006-12-31T21:03:00.000-08:00

I am astounded! Miracles ABOUND! They never cease!

It is midnight, the day after the workshop in Granada ended. I just came home from another amazing day. The day began with my pulling the Course in Miracles Card:

"If you knew who walks beside you on the path you have chosen, you would have no fear".

For the last few weeks I have had the sense that there are angels all around me, radiating light all over everything. This morning Kristian told me that I was his angel, that he now sees light all around everything, and it began with me. Last night Oscar told me that when I burst on the scene, it was like my energy cleared everything in its way, like a whirlwind, errupting with joy. He said that he felt as if "All the dirt dropped off me," he said, and I am ready to work.I knew that I would heal my relationship with my father with you."He was a quick and clever student, like his father, and, with the help of Spirit, the miracle that I expected arrived, despite fear and doubt and uncertainty. By the end of the weekend the father and son reunion had inspired an avalanche of reunions.

I was deeply grateful for that opportunity to bring healing to their family.

But I was exhausted! I gave so much and at that moment, I had no more to give. I woke at three and could not get back to sleep. I have to learn to deal with energy vampires, because I appear to have boundless energy, and I am willing to give so much. I do it because I am aware that the Source is infinite, but I have to set boundaries to protect and nurture my energy so I have something to draw on. Meditation, and rest and food are neccessary.

I am in a body. I am not an angel yet!

So this morning I took it easy, took advantage of my office here, and the quiet, and sent emails. I cracked up at the Note from the Universe that said I owed at least a wink or a sideways glance of acknowledgment for the miracles that were happening. Because every dream I have ever had is coming true.

I am here in Europe WORKING!

Everyone went home from the workshop and called all the people they love, and apparently they are driving from all over Spain to meet me! I have seven appointments booked tomorrow! Private sessions, in a house out in the country north of Granada. And people in other towns wanting me to come to their town and do workshops.

I am booked to go back to Barcelona tomorrow, but.... I still don't know what comes next. I am not rushing into the next moment until I know what it is, which is revealing itself to me like a fine white carpet being unrolled at my feet, softening my every step and leading me gently on.

I am trying just to stay present and be available and say yes to everything that presents itself. It is clear to me that there are no obstacles any more. Anything i have ever wanted I can have here and now. I am a manifesting dynamo! And it is so easy! So gentle. and so much FUN!!

Listen to this.

This afternoon Monica took me to her RECORDING STUDIO. I did not realize they had a RECORDING STUDIO! State of the art. Top musiceans in Spain record there. It is my dream looking me in the face once again! All I have to do is ASK and when the Universe delivers, say THANK YOU!!! Wowee!! I can record the guided meditation tapes I have been rehearsing and are present inside me, HERE!!!

Within a few hours of walking into the recording studio, we had laid down a track of my voice , guided by the Voice for Love. Inspired by Spirit, I sat on the stool in front of the mike in the darkened studio, with Monica at the sound board, and through me flowed a guided meditation which I located in La Alhambra, a place of fountains and reflecting pools and gardens of great beauty and peace. It was practically perfect, flowing out of me. as my eyes were closed and I pictured La Alhambra in my mind.I wove together the strands of the visions I have already been given. 30 minutes and 21 seconds, and room for music, pauses, all making it 45 minutes to half an hour. Monica will edit it and produce it tomorrow! While I am doing private sessions with all these people who are coming to meet me!

The teacher of the group, who has been in Ramadan, 600 kilometers away, wass phoned at one in the morning by one of the participants in the workshop. Today when Monica phoned him, he said, "Why didn't you tell me she had a message for me?" I told her she should have said, "Why didn't you listen?"

So, I have five clients tomorrow, and a place to work, and that is just the beginning.

I have already designed the CD cover, and I will ask Laila if I can use her painting for the next one. And the music? Dead Can Dance, the very music that is on my Ipod, is on their computer in their studio. Add some sounds of wind and flowing water, and we have a beautiful first class CD which I did in HALF AN HOUR! One shot!!! It just flowed out of me.I will ask their permission because of the copyright, but if it isn't there, Angel (yes, that is Monica's husbamd real name) can create some music on the synthesizer.

This kind of spontaneous creativity t has been part of my dream forever, to make CD's and write my book, to travel and teach and write and speak and inspire people to live their dreams as I am doing now, and to live in a creative community. I am here, and I am doing it. It is so easy, and so much FUN!!!

The best part is that I now realize I have a whole team of friends all over the world who are cheering for me, and troops of angels who are surrounding me and supporting me and leading me on.

Sonia Haynes told me that she did not see me staying in Canada. She said if I had to come home that I would return to Europe. She also told me I needed to charge five hundred dollars when I speak, to begin with. because I cannot continue to live on a credit line with everything going out, and nothing coming in.

This has been a time of clearing and investing my energy.

But that is not all.

Now, just as I am about to go home, GET THIS!!

Another part of my dream has been to infiltrate the business world with the Course, and Teach the basic principles of The Law of Attraction, and Love in the corporate environment. I was so baffled today that when we went to Monica's parent's house, I was asleep in the front seat of the car. Monica came out and woke me, saying that her father had some questions he wanted to ask me. Later.

Well, after the recording session we went to pick up Monica and Angel's little girl, Lucia at her parents hosue. There was the whole family, beaming. Mother brings me coffee so I can stay awake. I find myself in a business meeting with Jose, who said at the end of the workshop, "I didn´t believe in miracles, but I have had a miracle in my life." Basically he was saying that I made a believer out if him. And he had spent the whole day thinking about this whole question of his coaching business.

I had been sending him energy around it, because what had happened to his family life had so severely affected everything in his business life and vice versa. Seven or eight years ago he gave up and disappeared, abandoning his family. They had never forgiven him, and he had never forgiven himself. Somehow in the workshop I managed to clear the relationship between the father and the son, and you can't believe what happened next.

This man, who was a top level executive and is now a business coach, asked me to help him with his coaching business. He said he could not deal with the emotional aspects of a certain CEO who was killing his company because everyone was sick of him yelling at them and controlling them, and he needed me to help him heal this man, the way I had done in the workshop with him.

He needed me to help him heal this top level CEO. Would I become his partner in a new business?

Would I?? Uh, YEAH!!!

Within one hour we had formed the business and he committed to writing the business plan within four weeks, and sending it to me, and inviting me to come and work for his company in Spain! In the Spring!

So, now I have accomplished every goal I set before I came. I said I was going to explore the possibility of living and working in both Europe and Canada, Now I have exactly what I need to come back here! He wants to make BIG money, three thousand a weekend! Form a team! Everything I always wanted!

Now, knowing how impulsive and spontaneous, and even reckless I can be when I get carried away, I have to figure out what I can post on my blog safely, because I don't want to blow this one!

Whoops! There goes my ego again! How can I blow it? That is ridiculous. That would be ME robbing myself of my natural inheritance, which sure as Hell isn't GUILT! In fact, one of the books that is sitting inside of me is the comic book that Samuel suggested. I have the name for it: GUILT BUSTERS!!!!

So, whenever I feel tempted to attack myself with guilt, or wallow in self pity and fear and delusions of lack, and attack,

I just pause, and remember the words of the Course.

"ALL ATTACK IS SELF ATTACK,." so therefore,

"If I defend myself that I am attacked.". and

"It is but myself I crucify." "

Nothing unreal (guilt and fear) exists!" because

"What is all encompassing can have no opposite!"

It is as if I have imbibed the Course for so long, that it is a part of me, and it teaches me throughout the day. I can hear the Voice any time I want to now. I just have to stop and listen. "Be still a while and go home." It just flows through me like a river of light, washing me clean.

According to the Law of Attraction, The Universe is waiting to deliver anything I want, and because I have cleared the blocks to receiving it, with forgiveness, there is no resistance, no place for it to get stuck. The way is now CLEAR! I am to put aside all my small projects, and GO for it!

Oscar, Monica, her husband Angel and their father Jose and me are going to work together as a TEAM! All the conditions of the Holy Relationship have been met. We are joined in purpose, we love to work together, there is a safe place where we can heal together, and we can bust each other's egos! We laugh together, and eat together and rejoice and celebrate together. Family!

I can WORK here! I can teach here. I can make money here. Legally! There is no limit to what I can do! And, joined with these lovely people, there is no limit to what WE can do!

And all because I asked the Universe for this opportunity.

"Ask and ye shall receive. Knock and it shall be opened unto you!"

The Vision is clear.

The Mission is clear.

And the Purpose is clear.

Oscar's father, Jose, sixty years old, a man who had suffered at the hands of a "strict father" as most men in Spain do, was now sitting next to his son who translated for us, working in union with him, his dream coming true.We all joined in a Holy Relationship, and we shook on it.

As I left his house with his son to drive home to the apartment that Oscar has given me for my stay, Jose stood on the steps, put his hand on his heart, looked deeply into my eyes, and, speaking in English, which is difficult for him, he said, simply, "Thank you for bring light to my family!"

Oscar told me later in the car that his father has been thinking about this need for transforming and healing the corporations from withing instead of just "rearranging the furniture on the Titanic," or redesigning the organization flow charts, for a long time." Basically, "Oscar said, "You are the the answer to his prayers." And this from a man who did not believe in God! Well, the old patriarchal, punishing, vengeful God, anyway. Now he understands that God is good, compassionate, and kind. And inside of him. There is no old man on a throne sending one to the left to Heaven, and the other to the right to Hell. That is the Auschwitz version of God. THAT is the God that is dead, the God created by the ego when it usurped the throne of God.

The miracles keep on coming, and I just keep opening, opening, surrendering to the incredible boundless joy of it. It is so amazingly quiet and sweet. The bursts of joy are like a silent orgasm of light. I can see it everywhere now, at any time. It is dazzlingly beautiful, but calm at the same time.

Thank you, Sandy, for being my teacher and my inspiration. As you showed me, I am Unstoppable, outrageous, and TRULY powerful. I am attracting support and followers and creating and coaching my team. I am attracting opportunity and creating openings for miraculous transformations. I love my life. I look fabulous. I have boundless, infinite energy and creativity.I am receiving guidance from the Highest Source. The abundance of the Universe is glowing in my mind, flowing through me like dazzling fish in a river of light. " And a river will save them," said DavidPaul and Candace's little girl, and it has. I stepped into the river and lI et it take me. Every apparent disaster, I have healed with forgiveness.. I am truly blessed!

Now I have stepped into my true greatness, as opposed to grandiosity. I am now the Teacher I dreamed I would one day become. Yesterday, in the workshop, a beautiful artist told me that I was her teacher, and so, if I was returning to Vancouver, she would move to Vancouver to be with me! What? This is more than I even dreamed was possible, but strangely enough, I feel comfortable with it. I am ready. As long as I move slowly and gently and let myself be guided, I will be fine. I finally understand what the Course is saying when it says that "a healed mind does not plan." Sonia told me not to worry too much about a few hundred dollars here and there. Listen to Spirit, she said. She also said "I am very proud of you!You have learned how to follow guidance, and miracles are abounding in your life. Love is on your doorstep!

Sonia told me that it was so big, that I had no idea, and that in order to allow it to grow to its full potential, without anxiously rushing ahead and trying to plan and control, my guides were trying to teach me to go one step at a time, just stay present. I am good at what I do. It is dedicated, I am fully committed, and now the way is open.

Somehow I know that, even though I have not met my Beloved in physicial form, I will meet him here in Europe when I come back. I have work to do here, and I need to go home and get a Visa and get my book written! And my articles for The Course in Miracles conference. I need an agent! I have a producer! I have a team. I am training them. They love and support and appreciate me.

So there it is, the way to the CD's, the Video's, the speaking engagements, everything I need and want, is here. I asked Jose where I would live, and he gestured, UPSTAIRS! Everything is just falling into place. It is just so easy and graceful! All I have to do now is write my book!

They love me, and they say there is a great need here in Spain. Everything I ever wanted to do, I am doing HERE! And NOW!!!

Hallelujah!!!

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

--
Posted by Shelora to Shelora's Excellent Adventure at 10/23/:47:57 PM

A New Year

2006-12-31T14:25:00.000-08:00

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

MEET EACH OTHER! And Together Let's Have the Best Year Yet!

2006-12-31T11:09:00.000-08:00

I want you all to know that as I look at this new year of 2007, I see great hope. I am so excited by this vision that I felt compelled to write to you all, and hopefully inspire you to begin joining in purpose with me to lift the world to a new way of seeing.

So, I am talking to all of you as if you were in my living room, where I am starting my Intenders Mastermind Circle. This is a group dedicated to making dreams come true. It begins with me, and I am inspired just thinking of all the amazing, magical and miraculous healings and enlightenments that happened in Spain this summer. There is no limit in time or space that cannot be transcended by a powerful intention. I see a world healed, I see prosperity and thriving economies all over the world, and people sharing the water and the air and the resources, and helping one another to grow and prosper.

More specifically, for the group of amazing young people that I was guided to meet this summer, I see a multi-media production of inspiring artists, musicians,film makers, writers and speakers, all teachers of Love, like myself, taking the world to the next level of wildly abundant joyful living through practicing the SECRET POWER of manifiesting.

The truth is that together we are unstoppable. AS Bon Jovi said in Live Aid, We ARE the World!
Michel Jarre just did a CONCERT FOR THE WATER IN MERZOUGA, the Oasis in MORROCCO where I was this summer. I know musicians there as well. I promised Said I would do something for the planet. He promised he would write me a song that unites all, across the lines, neither Muslim, nor Jew, Nor Christian, nor Zorastrian, but ONE VOICE FOR LOVE AND PEACE AND HEALING AND PROSPERITY ON THIS PLANET.

This is the future, my friends, and I intend for us all to be a part of it!

So, down to practical details of HOW.

Kristian, and Caroline and Gala, this is the email address of Bernardi productions in Granada. This is the recording studio owned by my friend Monica Bernardi and her husband Angel. I think there is a way for you, Kristian, to make your music video there, and record your songs. It is time to write some music, my friend, and be an Ambassador of the Light that you see all around everything now. Share your happiness with the world! Monica, Kristian is a FANTASTIC young artist, and with the right handling could become a star, easily. His boyfriend owns a school for musicians and actors in Barcelona. I want you to talk to each other!!! Kristian had an experience with me the way that you did. He has a message of joy and peace and happiness for his generation which has been lost, in the dark and in despair. He asked the Universe for help, and it sent him me, as it sent me to you and your family. I consider you both part of my soul family, and nothing would make me happier than to see you working together. Monica, this is the way to make your new career. Find young people like Christian and produce them. You will create a new wave of music in Spain, not the usual. but more inspiring. Then we will do live shows, and we will have inspiration for the nation!! Send a copy of this email to Oscar and make sure he emails me! Caroline lives in Barcelona, downstairs from where I lived, near to the Unity Church minister, Carlos Romanillos. She has diting skill and film technical editing and shooting equipment. You could make music videos together, although she does not have faith, as you both do. Kristian, you met Caroline. She is the beautiful black woman with the wonderful afro that was in my building. She has a GREAT video camera, and the best equipment. She is very clever and quick and with it, and well trained. She is a great editor and has everything you need to do music videos. She can teach as well. She has a lovely little girl, about six years old. Her name is Charley. Monica is a film maker as well as having a recording studio. She has a little girl about two years old. Gala is a wonderful organizer and very efficient with great people skills. Gala is a GREAT producer. Marina has a fabulous production team for fashion photography in Barcelona and in South America. She is brilliant at getting things done, and has a wonderful community in Ibiza. Marily is working for Elizabeth Arden. She comes from Peurto Rico and is relocating from Gibraltar to Madrid.

I consider you all to be a part of my team. I want to be able to do a documentary when I come back. I want you all to be moving on your dreams, making them come true, so we can share the SECRET of amazing abundance and success coming from the Source of all prosperity and creativity with everyone!!! I intend to set Europe on FIRE with all of our talent and vision and our message of hope and healing for the planet. Together we can reach the youth of Europe and change the world through inspiring music and film. You are all young, beautiful, and talented. Maria is a fabulous artist and can do album covers and set design. She will travel anywhere and do anything to make it happen with her wonderful husband. I have had a chance to look at the wonderful things that happened in my last month in Barcelona and realize what is up with this trip and what is supposed to happen with all these gifted, loving young people I met. I love you all! let us spread the Voice for Love all over the world. In fact, Kristian, that should be the title of your next song!!! the Voice for LOVE! it is more powerful than death, more powerful than pain. It is the voice of peace, the voice of love, the voice of forgiveness, the voice of healing. Let's come together and start being the powerful ambassadors for peace that we can be. it is up to your generation to find a way to turn this thing around, give up its addiction to pain and suffering and despair and rage, and let the healing begin.
So.....
You need to start working together. Get with it! Gala, do your thing to get them talking to each other, and keep Carlos in the loop. He is a WONDERFUL INSPIRING HEALER and his wife is wonderful also. Together you can reach the young people in Spain and wake them UP to the magnificent abundance that comes with faith in Spirit.
My email address is shelora.fitzgerald@gmail.com
or
inspiration@shelora.com
--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Trip Home

2006-10-31T04:30:00.000-08:00

I took the train from Barcelona to Paris, overnight, thinking it would be 70 Euros to London. It was 225, or $400.00, because it was a ten day school holiday, and the trains were full. I bit the bullet and paid it. Then I took the train from Paris to Chartres, where I was blown away by the beauty of the Cathedral. I stayed there watching the sun set from a cafe beside the Cathedral, and talking with a young man and his father, who had been a priest. Late that night I took a hotel room in Chartres, a lovely prosperous and beautiful little medieval French village, got up at five thirty, took some early morning pictures of the Cathedral, then ran to the train station where I caught the commuter train to Paris, to the Gare du Nord, where I was booked on the Eurostar chunnel train at ten fifteen. I retrieved my luggage,which was HEAVY, despite the fact that I had sent so much home, so heavy that I tripped backwards on an escalator with it Thinking I was falling, I looked backwards and there was a security guard right behind me, smiling. Angels everywhere! I reminded myself that nothing happened, and enjoyed the trip to London with a French family, father and two teenaged kids, and a family from Canada, two gay men, the sister of one of them and the mother of one of them. Got a detailed explanation of how the Chunnel was built, while I drank a litre of wine that I had kept from Spain. Only 2 Euros! Drunk, I arrived in London Waterloo, and found I had to go to Victoria Station. No Sterling, not accepting Euro coins, buying a ticket for the Underground took half an hour, but then I was off to Gatwick, where I bought gifts for my girls, perfume, etc. I was down to one rolling bag and a backpack, but it turned out I had to check in my backpack, because it had makeup and liquids in it, toothpaste even! And I had bought perfume. So I put the backpack and perfume inside a new suitcase, and checked in, and then, when I got to the other side, I was allowed to buy new lipstick! Made no sense whatsoever to me, but it was a good enough excuse to go shopping at Gatwick. The plane was an hour and a half late leaving London, couldn;t even get a gate until half an hour before departure, and the lounge was full! Arrived home only forty minutes late, and then I had to wait for my bag to come off the plane until the very last. An hour and ten minutes in baggage! Thank God my kids waited for me. It was so good to see them.Now I am home, knackered, and, of course, cannot sleep! I have sorted through my mail. My apartment is lovely, and clean. It is missing pillow slips, and the shower curtain has been replaced for some weird reason. But other than that, everything is hunky dory, except I cannot get my computer reconnected. Can't remember how. I'll sort it out in the morning, whenever that is. I haven't slept in three days. This is a torture technique designed to get me to agree to anything, which I am quite sure I have done, or am willing to do. To bed now!

On 30/10/06, David wrote:

Hiya
Hope the trip back was smooth and enjoyable. Chat soon
D

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

A Note from the Universe

2006-10-23T01:07:00.000-07:00

I just thought you might enjoy this little Note from the Universe I received this morning.

Excusez-moi, Shelora, but celestial protocol usually involves either a nod, a wink, or at the very least an acknowledging sideways glance while peering over your sunglasses, whenever a life-changing miracle is performed on one's behalf.

And I'm quite sure you know exactly what I'm talking about.

O.K. O.K. I know EXACTLY what you are talking about. And winking over my shoulder is exactly what I am doign this morning.

I have had my miracle. I spentthe weekend teachng my own very first full on workshop here in Granada, and it was FABULOUS!

At the end of the workshop the father of the girl and her brother who brought me here said, I didn't believe a miracle was possible, but now I have had one! He was able to reunite with his father and his daughter and be with them in Loving Presence.

Oh, you're welcome.

Anytime. Anytime at all.

The Universe

The Course in Miracles Card I received this morning was:

If you knew Who walks beside you on the path you have chosen, you would have no fear.

And I don't! I keep seeing the Johnny Walker signs here. They say: Keep Walking!

This is the one with in-depth visualization guidelines, easy belief-alignment techniques, and the 3 steps anyone can follow to get unstuck...

"Perfect for anyone who feels at all stuck or limited in anyway...!" * "I was in awe again with the material you present!" * "I wondered how you could possibly add to Infinite Possibilities... now I know!" * "WOW... I love how you've simplified universal truths...!" * "I simply do not know how to thank you enough...."

Leveraging the Universe & Engaging the Magic

Thoughts become things... choose the good ones! ®
© www.tut.com ®

They never cease, huh, Shelora? Especially not for you.

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May peace prevail.
Shelora

No, REALLY! NOTHING HAPPENED!

2006-10-20T15:57:00.000-07:00

I had another miracle yesterday.

I left Barcelona, after doing a session until eleven at night or later, buzzed from the session, not being able to sleep until three in the morning. Woken by a knock on my door by my host in the lovely apartment in Barcelona she shared with me, where I was invited to stay for a week, I got up to catch the plane at eight forty-five. Groggy, but packed, I went out into the rainy dark streets, (Yes, it does rain here, and there are thunder storms, that last for half an hour!)to find a taxi to the main plaza where Marina had told me I could get an airporter bus. I managed to get a taxi, but he thought I wanted to go to the airport. When I told him I just wanted to go to Plaza Catalunya downtown, he talked me into taking me to the bus stop at the city limits, Plaza Espanya, and thius saving time, I would rather have saved the money, since I had plenty of time, but I decided to go with the flow because, frankly, I was too tired to resist. The driver chatted in Spanish about Canada, (which is, by the way universally loved and respected her,) and I realized I understood at least half of what he was saying, and could respond in Spanish, and have a decent conversation. The Airporter arrived just as we got to the bus stop. I paid him his 9.50€, instead of the 3.50€ I had been expecting, and got on the bus, where I had to pay another 3.75€ for the rest of the ride to the airport. I knew that the taxi driver had stretched the trip to make more money, but I had allowed, since I knew he had been hoping for a trip to the airport, which would have been 25€.

"Give your brother what he wants, " the Course advises, so I did. But it was on my mind as I made my way to the back of the bus. I exchanged a few words with the man beside me as I placed my backpack on the luggage rack in front of us. As we glided through the early morning dark, I started wondering and second guessing myself. Had I been a fool and let myself be taken advantage of again? We arrived at the airport. Hoping I understood the Spanish on my email ticket, saying Terminal B, I asked the business man sitting next to me. He confirmed that I was right. Still half asleep, but anxious, I got off the bus with my suitcase at terminal B.

I went looking for the Air Europa desk, and asked instructions from the security gurard that was checking in the bags. I told myself that I knew how to do this. I have done it hundreds of times all over the world. But at that moment, pulling myself together, I checked my back, and realized that my back pack was not on I had left my backpack on the Airporter bus!!! In shock, I realized that I had left all my remaining technical goodies, my cell phone, my camera battery charger, etc., but most importantly, the entire record of my trip, the NOTES FOR MY BOOK, now handwritten in my journal kept daily throughout the last four months, because of the loss of my laptop,

Oh my GOD, I must be completely STUPID!

STUPID, STUPID STUPID!!! I kept repeating these words to myself as I went through the revolving door, rushing outside to see if the bus was still there. It was not.

My mother's words echoed through my head. If your head wasn't screwed on, you would forget that too!

I panicked, desperately running around the airport trying to find someone to help me who spoke English. The TouristIinformation protested that she didn't know, and maybe the Airport Police could help me. She gave me a phone number for the airport police, but did not know the number for the Airporter Bus. She told me that if I wanted the Police, I needed to walk to Terminal A at least ten minutes away, She did not know if they would know the Airporter Bus number. That is typical of "information" in Spain. No one knows anything. And no one speaks English.

They all believe in one thing. FATE! LUCK! BAD LUCK; especially!

I finally found a young man who spoke English, could navigate the pay phone, which remains a mystery to me. For some reason, I used the money I had to call my friend Gala in Barcelona. She is the angel in the massage therapy clinic who had told her friends about me. Gala Is an angel. The room lights up with her beauty when she smiles. I went there every day just to see her smile! I knew that she wanted more than just to be a receptionist in a massage therapy clinic, and I told her so. This led to her working with me, and feeling like she had been reborn. She told her friends about me. She must have raved, because they went to the website, said I looked like an angel, and the next day they invited me to come to Granada to work with them.

In the ONE MINUTE phone call that cost 1.85€, I managed to give her the police phone number and tell her what happened. I thought I should go outside and find the airporter bus so we did that. I got the number of the company from the driver.. But he said there would not be anyone there until 8 o'clock. My plane was leaving at 8:45.

Then I said that I should wait outside until the bus came back. But the man said "It will take around an hour for the bus to go back to the city, and return here. And anyway, you would have to be REALLY LUCKY for your bag not to be stolen, and the bus to come back to the airport with it still there!

I said, "But I am lucky!"

And right then and there I remembered the truth, that we are never alone, that there are invisible angels waiting to help us if we only ask. But we have to ask, and then let them take care of it!

I started visualising my bag being returned to the airport.

The man had said you will be lucky if someone doesn't steal it! There it was gain, the spectre of the theives in Spain, and I was being given ANOTHER opportunity to create something different.

So I PRAYED BUTT OFF!!! I visualised my bag being proteceted, and coming back to me with everything intact.

Then I thought, I must check in, so I went to Air Europa and there, in Business Class was a woman who spoke English and had a cell phone which, once she understood what had happened, she let me use, even thought she said her boss would KILL her! She allowed me to phone Gala, and explain what happened and she got it. I gave her the information on the ticket: which bus, and which driver, etc. She said not to worry, she would do her best to it back.

And then I had to go because my plane was leaving at eight forty five, and it was eight fifteen. They were boarding. Off I went .I got to the line up with five minutes to spare. The plane left the tarmac at 2 minutes after nine. All the way, on the plane to Palma Mallorca, in the waiting room at the layover and on the next place to Granada, I continued to visualize my back pack safely being brought back to the office by the bus driver.

At the airport in Granada I was met by Monica, the beautiful woman who saw my webiste and said that I must be an angel, and had to work with me. Shecame with her beautiful baby, Lucia, who was asleep in her stroller. She brought me here to her brother Oscar's apartment in Granada where I am staying while I teach.

Oscar arrived on the sidewalk, we embraced, and kissed on both cheeks, as we do here in Spain, and he said, "First I must tell you, your rucksack is safe! Gala phoned me to tell me she will pick it up at the office tomorrow, and keep it for you!"

Wow!!! I had had three hours sleep, I was exhausted, but all of a sudden I had energy to spare! What a miracle. I said thank you, and we went on with our day. When I called Gala, she told me that the bus driver had found the bag and had RETURNED TO THE AIRPORT WITH IT!

Shehad tried to get them to page me, but the plane actually took off at nine o.clock. We were already on the runway taxiing, so it was impossible, but WOW! Talk about the power of the mind to manifest what you think, almost instantaneously. I cancelled any thought that it would be stolen, not even an fragment of doubt, once I recognized my ego mind was wanting to prove that I was a stupid fool, that I deserved something bad to happen to me to punish me for my carelessness. I saw how I did it to myself, and I forgave myself instantly, and it was undone. What a blessing. The Universe delivers exactly what you ask for! So be careful what you ask for! Thoughts are things, so choose good ones!

All I have to say is, "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!"

Now I am in Granada, where I have my own apartment with my own office. Last night I met the Master of the Spiritual Centre who has offered his space to us for FREE! His name is Antonio, and he is a writer and a Shaman, and teaches the Kabbala, and has classes of mostly women. We arrived there last night and there were at least twenty women and one man, all stone faced serious, taking notes, while Antonio, a Leo performer, presented a lecture on ....yup, you guessed it, projection and introjection! And attachment to the material world, and how most people hand on greedily to what they have, believing if they give they will have less, but not realizing that giving is the way to abundance. He had given them an exercise to give something precious to them away, and record their reactions. Not one of them had done it. He acted out the way most people live their lives believing they are puppts on strings, and then he finishe his lecture on moving up from the lower base instincts of FEAR and GREED and attachment to the material world to the solar plexus and the heart which lightens your energy, and then to above his head, where he said, in Spanish, over and over, "No pasa nada" He said, we should make signs saying, "No pasa nada!"

He had summed up the entire Course in Miracles in two words!

I burst out with the two words in English, that he was holding up over his head:

In English we say,

"NOTHING HAPPENED"

I was astounded .My friend and teacher Sandy Levey, seventeen years ago, when she began to teach the Course in MIracles, had SIGNS made that said,

"NOTHING HAPPENED!"

And here in a room in the Civic Centre in Granada, seventeen years latere, was a man gesturing with an imaginary sign over his head that said "No pasa nada Nada!"

What a hoot! Synchronicity abounds.

So that was the second miracle of the day.

Of course, we had to go out for a drink together, the four of us, Monica, Julie her friend who speaks perfect English, and Antonio and I. We recognized each other immediately, and started playing with the cosmic joke of each other, and he admitted that he liked me! I would just have to accept that. He played with mock guilt and we both cracked up! The two girls said that they would have to leave now, but no, it was just playing. And that was what was so delightful. When two teachers who are at the same level meet, it is a delight, and we can play like children.

After he left, Julie and Monica asked me if I wanted to continue in another part of the city close to Alhambra. Even though I was tired, I said Yes. Monica worked in radio and that is where she met her husband. Now she is a new mother, and it is, of course, exhausting and demanding in ways that you can't even imagine. And she is on this spiritual path, wanting to become a spiritual teacher and writer herself.

Apparently, a month ago, Monica had asked Antonio why HE was teaching about the Goddess, and why it was always male teachers telling women about their spiritual path. She asked him why she couldn´t have a woman teacher. She asked her teacher why she couldn't have a female teacher, and, of course he said she could! But the way he did it was brilliant.

She was moaning about her crisis in her life, and her husband and so on, and he said to her. "You are making a bad death. At least make a good one!" He made her laugh at her drama, and at that moment she realized she could have anything she wanted. She was creating her misery, why not create a miracle?

It seems that I am her answer to prayer, her proof that miracles do happen. And, just to confirm it, when I arrived for lunch with her brother and her husband, the credit cards which had been lost for five days, ever since she went to book the trip for Granada for me, reappeared, as if by magic, in the shirt pocket of her husband's shirt.

And so we ended up in a Morrocan tea house where we had mint tea and talked until Monica had to go and get her baby from her mother's house at midnight. Just before she left, we were joking about witches, and how women were punished in the past for speaking and practicing their truth. At that moment, Monica's eyes bugged out of her head. I remember this! I know you!

Apparently, when she got home with her baby, she couldn't carry her, and her bag, and the bag I had left in the car, and she realized she had left her keys in the car. When she arrived at the door, there wer her husband's keys in the door!

And his name?

Angel!!!

This feeling of recognition, and the feeling of being surrounded by light and angels has been happening repeatedly here.

First it was Kristian, the Spanish Rock Musician, with light all around him, saying he had never experienced anything like this meeting, as if he knew me and I knew him. that happened when he asked me, "What is happening in this world?" And I gave him a real answer.

It happened when I went to the Course in Miracles Center and the teacher came into the room and locked eyes with me, and we recognized each other and broke into a burst of wild laughter. And then at the end of the workshop the translator came up to me, embraced me and said, I heard that you were coming, but I didn't know it was YOU! She repeated it three times, in English. I didn´t know it was YOU! I didn´t know it was YOU! And then she embraced me, and said how good it was to see me again.

So people are starting to see me as a Teacher. I don't need to sit and take notes any more. They will sit and take notes while I talk, or learn from me. Sonia told me that she saw me with people sitting at my feet, enchanted, and I was speaking in Spanish. She said I have a lovely voice, and people love to listen to me. Just like my beautiful ex husband said. He told me, long ago, you would have people sitting at your feet and working for you if you only realized how powerful you are. And he got it from hearing my voice on the radio!

The day before i left Barcelona there was a woman in the elevator speaking French. She had a lovely little girl with her, and I spoke with them, as I am wont to do in elevators, thus breaking all conventions. But by the time we reached the top floor, we were fast friends, and she told me that she is a professional editor, teaches young people Final Cut Pro and Avid, and has a Sony broadcast quality camera!!! Wowee!! I should have asked her to come to Barcelona adn do a DVD of the workshop! That is what Sonia told me to do! It is happening so fast, David! The miracles are coming one after another, and it is so easy.

Back to the Morrocan teahouse. After Monica left, her eyes, bugging out of her head, Julie got to ask the questions that were burning inside of her. I stepped into the role of teacher, with ease, and gratitude for being allowed to be a vehicle for the Voice for Love. I listened deeply as she asked about the power of the dark, and how vulnerable she felt in her meditation to being taken over by the dark forces, and how she felt she could not ignore all the pain and suffering in the world. She was filled with the pain of the nightmare of the illusion, and was paralyzed with the pain she perceived as real.

After a two hour private session with her, over mint tea, she came to realize that she had mistaken sacrifice (crucifixion) for love, and that she did not have to give herself away and exhaust herself in order to love. "

"It is but myself I crucify!"

When she realized that she was giving to the One, and that she could not lose true inheritance, which is Love, she lit up with joy. That recognition, that there is only One of us, and we are all waking up together, gently healing together and going Home together, that, my dear friends, is the true meaning of salvation or Atonement - At ONE ment!!!

Once you realize that, "Every encounter is Holy, because you only meet yourself, " then you can stop wearying yourself with the strain of constant judgment, trying to sort out what is evil and what is good.

"What is all -encompassing can HAVE no opposite!"

So there is no need to be on guard constantly trying to protect yourself from attack, and therefore, you are safe.

Just like a little girl waking from a nightmare, you don't shake them awake and yell at them "Wake up. It is just a dream, you stupid thing! Don´t you know anything??" The ego loves that sort of thing. It can be very subtle, undermining any chance at happiness you might allow yourself. In fact, the ego is VERY suspicious of love, or anything resembling happiness. It has a wide range of responses to the approach of love, form suspicious to VICIOUS. This gives rise to what appears to be Hell on Earth! All the pain and suffering, war, gred, envy, suspiciousness, conflict, all the forms of competition, power and oppression, all the conniving and manipulating and calculation and counting and measuring and comparing, and I've got more than you, I'm better than you, "the one with the most toys at the end wins" philosophy, is just the futile posturing of the crazy ego mind.

To think that when you are in a deep state of meditation, or a dream of Peace, One with all that there is, open to the benevolent energy of the "totalidad" or the Universe, floating in a boundless expanse of pure spaciousness which is nothing but eternal love and peace, that this would be an opportunity for the dark forces of greed and oppression and terror to enter in, and attack you, is merely to misunderstand the true nature of love.

Once Julie recognized how she had misunderstood what love was, doubting her own ability to discern between love and attack, she realized she had been crucifying herself in the name of love, giving to everyone but herself. She wept with relief. Through the process of forgiving herself for what she had created from guilt and projected onto the world, she remembered who she really IS and she came Home to the Truth. That was her moment of salvation, when forgave herself for separating herself, and believing to the voice of the ego which says you must protect yourself, that the best defence is a good offense, that reality is struggle and sacrifice, attack and defence, pain and suffering, and that unless you suffer, you can't earn love, which, of course is conditional! Sheh let go of that false security, and came into the Truth, become at one with all that there is, which is infinite love and patience, and trust. In that place, nothing can hurt you, or even come close to taking anything away from you. You are One with the infinite Source of all abundance and joy, and all you have to do is extend it.

Teach only LOVE because that is what you are, and to teach is simply to demonstrate.

So that is what I am doing. I have turned my life into a hymn of praise and healing. I have accepted salvation for myself and I am Home. Now I simply am extending the invitation to anyone who wants to join me. I am doing the work I came here to do. And I am deeply, profoundly happy. The goal was not happiness, but it is the result of giving myself to the ONE. I no longer need to defended myself against a hostile world conspiring to rob me of my peace. Nothing can touch my peace. There is nothing in this world that I would trade for it. I have given everything to the Kingdom, because I now know that that is what I AM, so I give but to myself. Nothing has power over me.

I am AWAKE! I am FREE! I am fulfilling my PURPOSE. I have received a gift, adn now i am sharing it, and like the miracle of the loaves and fishes, it expands to fill the need. Three is, as my dearly beloved ex husband used to say to me, "more where that came from!"

I realized once again how much I love this work, and, even though I could not sleep until three again, it was worht it to see her face light up when she realized that SACRIFICE IS NOT LOVE, and that she gives to others by giving to herself. As a nurse who is constantly dealing with pain and suffering, She natrutally has the inclination to believe that all that pain is real. But, rember the Course says

"Nothing REAL can be threatend.

Nothing UNREAL exists!"

Herein lies the Peace of God."

She offered herself peace and trust and faith, instead of draining herself and exhausting herself trying to decide whether she could trust herself to distinguish between what is dark power and what is light, and thereby have her power taken from her.

I understand only too well from my own presonal history how all those memories of past lives when women were crucified, (burned, roasted, toasted, tortured, you name it) for being healers and wise women, those days are OVER!

The quickening has arrived. The answer has been given. The problems have all been solved. All we need do now is listen. Hearing is no longer the special function of a few special chosen ones. It is available to all of us if we choose to listen. We are safe to love one another. And we are safe to LIVE OUT LOUD!!

"In my defencelessness my safety lies.

It may seem impossible to believe, it may seem that attack is more possible when you are "undefended" whether in sleep or in meditation. It may seem as if some force can strike you out of the blue and take your peace from you, that you need to have everything perfectly under control, with your furniture just so, your money just so, your affairs in order, guaranteeing your security, and then something, the stock market crashes, you lose your inheritance that you had been counting on, you get diagnosed with breast cancer, your parent dies, your husband leaves you, you are robbed, you have three car accidents in a row, you are forty two and still not married, and you fear you never will have a child, you are raped, whatever it is, appears to come from outside yourself, and steal your innocence, your peace, your certainty.

Doubt enters in. You give your power away. You become uncertain. This is too much pain. You swear you will never_____________________ again. Fill in the blank: Share your writing with someone who can criticize you, talk in front of a group of people, love again, trust again, care again about anyone else, give again, etc. And all the time it is not the events that happen to you but the meaning you gave them that is determining what happens. What we believe we perceive. What we resist persists. We carry it forward and project it, moment by moment onto this moment, and scribble the present in the name of protecting ourselves from the pain of the past, thereby ruining our future and making ourselves right that REALITY is PAINFUL and that Giving is a way to lose and that we are ultimately alone and separate, and that we have no one to trust in except ourselves. Well no wonder we are afraid!!!

But, of course, this is not the Truth. It is a difficult concept to grasp, but the Truth is that in your DEFENCELESSNESS your safety lies. You are transparent. You are One with the Love that created you. You are still and silent inside, no matter WHAT appears to be happening outside you , no matter how much the puppet strings of Deception are tossing you about.

You don't struggle with the dark forces. You don´t attack the nightmare and make it more real! You turn on the light and tell the child that it is safe NOW! THEN you explain it was just a bad dream and they can wake up into the happy dream. Still a dream, but how much more pleasant to be awake in it, able to play in it, adn have the realization that you are not a puppet being manipulated by the invisible strings of dark and powerful forces over which you have no control!

You are awake! It is beautiful! You can have anything you want! You are the creator of the Universe! When YOU wake up, we save one thousand years in the illusion of time.

A Feather from an Angel

2006-10-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

Ok, That does it.

I just finished posting the story of my backpack, Right?

And in the story I also included the story about Julie and Monica, Julie feeling she must stop her process because she had lost control of it, and Monica feeling like she is just beginning her process.

Now, in the story, near the end, I mentioned that last night when Monica got home from her mother´s, she was carrying the sleeping baby, Lucia. She was struggling to carry her bag which had the keys in it when she heard a a Voice said to her, "It's all right. You don't need them. Leave the bag in the car and go upstairs." She is hearing the Voice! She also tells me that all day she has had the sensation that she is looking at everything, the couch, the chairs, and realizing that SHE created it! Now her only problem is to decide what she wants to create instead.

This is from the woman who one month ago was saying that her life was over! (And being advised that since she was creating death, she should at least make a good one!
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Last night, when she arrived at her door the keys were there waiting for her.. left by her husband, Angel. Coincidence, right? Or, as my daughter Katy would say, "It's just a feather, Mom, " when one appears at the foot of my bed, as I am leaving for Europe, or one appears by my purse on the floor when I am talking with my friend David Buckland in a restaurant in Vancouver, or one starts swirling and leading me out of the wrong turn and towards the Cathedral where I see the Holy Chalice or Grail.

OK. It is a coincidence.

But what do you make of this???

I just went over to have lunch with Monica who lives across the beautiful clean tiled courtyard from her brother's condominium. (Spanish Tortilla, Tuna salad, and bread and onion soup, wonderful. )

I am standing talking with Momica in the doorway of her kitchen, when she looks down and picks up a FEATHER, saying, "What's this? Where did this come from?"

I had to say what I believe. They are from Angels! They are evidence that we are being watched over. They materialize in the most unlikely places out of the blue, just to let us know that all is well.

And now I go to give my talk to the group about Hearing the Voice for Love! Ten people are expected.

May peace prevail.
Shelora

"Nothing Happened!"

2006-10-20T06:53:00.000-07:00

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May peace prevail.
Shelora

Liberation from The Prison of a Powerful Mind.

2006-10-09T07:45:00.000-07:00

The reason I was being "held" here in Barcelona finally emerged this weekend. I don't know if I told you that I was looking for a Course in Miracles person or center here in Barcelona, and boy did I find it! The way in which it came about was, of course, miraculous. I arrived here, having spent two weeks in Ibiza and Formentara, allowing what I thought would be sufficient time for my new bank card to be couriered to the permanent address I luckily had in Barcelona, where I left one of my bags during my travels. But, due to complete breakdown in communication, it had been sent back, and so I asked for it to be sent again. It turns out, of course, that UPS is the problem. They did not recognize the address in Barcelona, said it was incomplete!! Yikes! So the damn thing wasn't sent until Oct. 4th, a full eight days after I requested the second one be sent, and that one will take another five to seven business days, not counting the nine hour time difference. Which means that I will still be here in mid October, which leaves me a very limited time to go to Poland and see where my mother was born, and see the room in which the miracle of her birth after death occurred. But that is another story, and one I am finally WRITING!

All through the thefts and the adventures in Morocco, I kept thinking of how I would connect with someone who studies and loves the Course in Barcelona. I had an English language magazine, and in it was an advertisement for a Unity Church. When I arrived here, after dealing with all the money issues, I finally called the number. Can you imagine my surprise when the woman who answered, the MINISTER, lived in the same building, one floor down? And her husband, Carlos, is an avid Course student, and wants to start a study group here.She was leaving for Peurto Rico the next day, but we exchanged information, and Carlos and I got together the next day, and he gave me the address of the New Age books tore in Barcelona, where I thought there must be a bulletin board with something leading me to the Course center. There was better than that. There was the Course in Spanish, and all the accompanying books, including the Disappearance of the Universe, by my friend Gary Renard, which had just been published in Spanish. And when I asked about a Course in Miracles study group the owner of the shop took out her personal phone book, and gave me the address and phone number.

The next day, in the shower, I heard the Voice that has been speaking to me more and more powerfully and clearly and simply, ever since I did a phenomenally effective one day workshop with DavidPaul and Candace Doyle in hearing the Voice for God, regardless of your religion. The story of how that Voice came to me can wait, but you might want to check them out. They have a lovely book called The Journey that Never Was, and you can check them out at Rightmindedness.com. it is filled with useful exercises and gentle guidance.

The Voice said to me that I should begin now to do my teaching. I came to Europe to do just that. And so, here I am, in Barcelona, where I began three and a half months ago, and last night, for the first time, I gave a mini-workshop at the Unity Church here in Barcelona. It was wonderful. Four women, two from Peurto Rico, one from Germany by way of Brazil, and one from Chile, by way of Vancouver! All of them spoke English. In the morning Carlos, the minister, had given a talk on introjection and how it becomes projection. He used that as an introduction to me and my work, and told them that I was offering to work with them on forgiving their introjected beliefs. They crowded around me after the service, and we arranged a workshop for the evening. Hallelujah!

But this is not all. This followed on an absolutely brilliant weekend that I spent in Mataro, outside of Barcelona at a Course in Miracles Center where two teachers from Wisconsin were giving a workshop, which I brought Carlos, the Unity Church Minister, to, and which I attended intermittently all weekend. The energy of Light and Love and healing in that room was phenomenal, and the experience of being in a room with international teachers like myself who welcomed me with open arms and loving hearts was incredible.

When I phoned that Center the first words I told her was that in the shower I had been told to begin here in Barcelona teaching the Course, which of Course is not something that CAN be taught. But imagine my surprise when I asked her how she came to the Course and she responded, "in the shower!" She was weeping in the shower, pleading for help when she heard two words, Power and Now. Of course, later that day she told her friend, and she said, The Power of Now, Eckhart Tolle (who, by the way, lives in Vancouver and was introduced to Gary Renard during the book tour I drove Gary on.) In The Power of Now, Tolle constantly refers to the Course, and she came to it through that.

There are no accidents, eh?

I wonder if you have read The Disappearance of the Universe in your bookstore there, or or Journey That Never Was, by DavidPaul and Candace Doyle. Or if you have A Course in Miracles, or The Journey Without Distance. That is by Robert Skutch, as Dr. Helen Shucman told it to him, and is the story of how the Course came. It is quite amazing.

The Journey Without Distance recounts how Helen, five foot one, Jewish, from a well to do family in New York, and born on Bastille Day, July 14th, like me, (you can make any other connections you like) was a professor of Medical Psychology at Columbia University. In 1976, she began hearing voices after a particularly intense department meeting during which the Department head, Dr. William Thetford had stood up and said he was fed up with the way that they were relating to each other and there must be a better way, and he pledged to find it. At that moment, Helen jumped to her feet, and committed to joining him in that quest.

A few days later, she started having bizarre dreams of past lives, and seeing a vision of a scroll being offered to her which would reveal everything of her past lives, or everything of her future lives, or everything of her present life. When she found herself answering the Voice, saying, "I think I will stick with the present this time," and the Voice praised her, saying, "You got it right this time," Helen thought she was clearly cracking up, since in the medical model, if you hear voices and see visions you are hallucinating and need immediate medical attention! So she went to see her superior, Bill Thetford, for counsel. Very sensibly, he asked her what the voice was saying to her. She told him that the voice kept repeating,

"This is a course in miracles. Please take notes."

Now Helen was a very disciplined research scholar, skilled in taking notes in short hand. She was also a confirmed atheist. As an only child she had lived, at one end of a ten room apartment in Manhattan, with her nanny, an Irish Catholic. Her parents lived at the other end. One night as she observed her nanny muttering words and playing with a sort of bead necklace, she asked her what she was doing, and the explanation of prayer, the Rosary, and religion peaked her interest. She asked if she had a religion, and if so, what was it? The nanny replied that she thought that the family was Jewish, but she wasn't sure. So Helen proceeded to her father's study at the other end of the apartment, where she found him reading the newspaper. When she asked him what religion they were he acknowledged that they were Jewish by birth, but did not practice. After a few tests for the existence of this "God" person, including some medical experience that terrified her, she gave up on religion, and turned to the Bible solely as literature, along with the works of Shakespeare. She became a brilliant scholar, and those works were the only literature other than scientific research that she read. So you can well understand how stunned she must have been when her superior, Bill Thetford, instead of diagnosing her with psychosis and prescribing a pharmaceutical solution, advised her to simply do as she was asked, and take notes. He said he would read them, and see if she was crazy.

The rest is history. Every day, from seven to nine in the morning, for seven years, these two brilliant scholars transcribed the dictation of the Voice, which, it became clear, was the Voice of Jesus, speaking through the Holy Spirit. The Course is a correction of the misperception of his teachings. It is a manual, an answer to the question of HOW to create peace on Earth. It is an explanation of the concepts of sin and evil and death and war and pain and suffering as creations of the ego, rather than the punishments of a vengeful God. It came in the same year that the Pope acknowledged at the ecumenical council that there is only ONE GOD. Many paths, one goal. The Course is a self study course, a sort of combination of Buddhism and Christianity without the guilt. It is not about the worship of pain and suffering and death. It is Jesus explaining that he is not special, that any one of us, in fact all of us, are his equals, and can do what he did, become One, and enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

Helen always knew that this was the case, that this was the Voice of Jesus, who did not die, and who continues to love and teach us, as he did while he was on Earth. She understood this intellectually, yes but she NEVER accepted what the Voice was saying. She did not believe in God. She resisted what she experienced as her "assignment that she had accepted in another place and time," and stood at a distance from the content, merely obediently doing as she had been asked, and taking down the dictation that she heard in a distinct inner Voice. If you read even one sentence or paragraph of the Course, you will recognize that this is not something written by any human hand, not even Shakespeare could have written it, although the first five chapters or so are in iambic pentameter, as in Shakespeare. The book is holographic, symphonic in nature. The3 writing is so profound that it takes a thought and in a single sentence both creates and undoes any thought you might ever have held as true. It turns what passes for normal perception upside down.

At one point during the seven year process, Helen asked the Voice, "Why me?" He told her, "Because I knew you would do it." Of course, he was right. She did. Despite her resistance. At the end of seven long years, these two brilliant academics had transcribed a document of 1200 pages, a Text, a Workbook with 365 lessons, and a Manual for Teachers. They were so excited that they showed it nervously to a few friends, who showed it to other friends, and as soon as they realized what they had on their hands, they decided they had to publish it. They told the printer that it had been written by Jesus. "Are you kidding? You can't copyright JESUS!" So they put down the author as "anonymous" and so it is. Anonymously yours, J.C.

Whether it is actually the Voice of Jesus or not, (which is, of course a huge issue for Evangelical Christians who see anything other than the edited version of the Gospels as written in stone, and therefore anything more recent from the same Source as being from SATAN, and worthy of being BURNED!) the wisdom of the Course is eternal. It does not proclaim to be the ONLY way. Remember, this is A Course in Miracles, not THE Course in Miracles. But it is a clear and cogent and profound guide to the True nature of Reality and the path Home to Who YOU TRULY ARE.

The Course can be summed up very simply. In the introduction it states.

Nothing real can be threatened.

Nothing unreal exists.

Herein lies the peace of God."

Deceptively simple, I must say.

Here in Spain I have been wresting with the unreal, with the phantoms and shadows of fear that still dwell in my mind, with the illusion that I can lose what is mine, that it can be stolen, or that I can be attacked and have everything I hold precious taken from me. Yes, I have had things taken, and I have lost, in the illusion, my inheritance, my wallet, my computer, my innocence, my sister. All of that is in the story of my personal history, and may appear true. But it is not. In REALITY I do not even exist as a separate ego with a body and a story. I am a part of all that there is, and all that there is is energy. Energy, as you well know is e=mc2 in the form of mass times the speed of light squared. As one of my Asian students, who stayed up all night studying quarks and black holes and parallel universes told me, "If you went as fast as the speed of light, you would live forever." Ba da bing, ba da boom. Eternity = Infinity. Time stands still, disappears, at the speed of light. That is what happens when we leave our body. The energy form that we were locked into in the form of mass, returns to its Source, which is the Great Rays of Light. It retains, however, its vibrational signature.

All of this is being dealt with by quantum physics, and in the What the Bleep movie, and by Cr. Candace Pert and Dr. Fred Wolf, and other scientists who work in conjunction which Stanford, and Harvard, and the Institute for Noetic Sciences, founded by astronaut John Glenn.

It appears that time is speeding up. Either that, or it is collapsing.

Giving and receiving occur in the same instant, just as attack and defense do.

In that context, I am finally recognizing just how powerful my mind is, how quickly whatever I think manifests in time. The other night I had a brilliant demonstration of how there is nothing outside our own mind which creates exactly what we believe, what we believe we perceive. Let me tell you what appeared to happen.

I stayed in Mataro where we watched Memoirs of a Geisha with English subtitles. When the movie was finished I told them I was going back to Barcelona on the train. It turned out that the last train had left three minutes earlier, so a kind gentleman offered to drive me home, along with another woman who lived in Barcelona. When we got there he dropped me off neat my address, at Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's unfinished masterpiece. It was midnight, and I was wearing a backpack, clearly a tourist, and I wasn't quite sure where I was. A little disoriented, I figured out the correct direction home, and walked through the streets alone, a little nervous. Ahead of me I saw two men coming towards me on the sidewalk. One passed by. not even looking at me. However, as I feared, the other started heading directly towards me. I kept my head down, and moved to the side to avoid him as he crowded me towards the wall. I looked up and he was "in my face" I jumped back, startled, and he reached out and grabbed my breast, leering. I yelled NO! in English. "How stupidly ineffective," I thought. Here it is happening again, just like when I was a little girl in the woods, and I was standing in a ray of light, with two white butterflies hovering over my head, landing on my head, in a state of pure innocence and grace, and a boy who had been stalking me sauntered out from behind the bushes and invited me to look at the dead squirrel behind some bushes. Nine years old, he attacked me, and terrified me, until I promised him a lot of money if he let me go. He let me go, all those years ago, but they caught him, and brought him to me to be identified in the little hut where the park supervisor held me in her arms and rocked me, as I cried, asking, "Why? Why? Why? I think I have the answer to that question now.

The man on the sidewalk in Barcleona was another manifestation of this idea that I could be attacked and lose what is most precious to me, my peace.

He walked away, smugly triumphant, looking over his shoulder and shrugging, as if to say, "That is what you expected, and that is what you got."

Thank you, my brother. You are not a stranger. You are my friend, a mirror of my mind that still walks in fear because of that long ago attack in the woods. At some point we all introject the frightening, negative experiences we have as children, and in an attempt to understand them, we believe that it is something about us that provoked that attack, whether it is your mother or your sister mocking you as you sing, and telling you that you can't hold a note, or a boy jumping you and telling you he is going to "F----" you when you are nine years old. It doesn't really matter what the content of the attack is, whether it is in the form of a judgment or a physical attack, it induces guilt and fear, and separates you from your true self, which is innocent. That introjection of guilt is so painful, so unbearable, that we can only stand it for about fifteen seconds, before we project it outwards onto the world. I shook with sheer terror when I saw that fifteen year old boy in handcuffs, with a policeman on either said, preparing to take him to jail once I had identified him, instead of being allowed to go free and rewarded with money as I had promised him. But from that point onward the idea that I had lied to gain my freedom, I had said my father was very rich and would give him money (as any little girl wants to believe...my favourite song that I used to sing in the car while my father was driving me to my ballet lessons was Summertime..."Your daddy's rich, and your mamma's good looking, so Hush, little baby, don't you cry!·" formed my sense of who I was, my self identity. I forgot my Higher Self, my innocence, that moment of sheer bliss and joy and stillness and peace and wonder in the ray of light. I entered a world where I was not only guilty of going into the woods alone, and leaving my little brother and sister to be looked after by the teen-aged baby sitter who only had eyes for the boys at the wading pool, but of having been attacked and thus causing my mother to feel guilty of not protecting me. I had sent a boy to jail, and lied about money. And where was my father who was supposed to be rich and save me?? It was my mother who handled the situation. The boy said that he had been given an assignment to qualify him entry into a teenage boy's gang, to go find a girl and "f---" her. All he could come up with was a skinny little nine year old in a yellow bathing suit, standing with white butterflies on her head, pretending she was Maid Marian in Sherwood Forest! A fairy! A wimp! But he promised he had learned his lesson, and my mother agreed not to press charges. A second violation.

And now it was happening again, here on the streets of Barcelona.

What a lesson in manifestation!

One of the lessons in the Course which I had read the day before was, "If I defend myself, I am attacked." It was immediate. Of course, I was shaken, and walked home quickly, fumbling for my key, trying not to show my wallet, and unable to unlock the door, I was so upset. Maite and Laila welcomed me and listened as I tearfully told them what had happened, and how violated I felt. The Course teaches "In my defenselessness my safety lies," and here I was creating attack AGAIN! I clearly have not understood the lesson! There was Maite, exclaiming, "Povrocita Shelora, Povracita - Bascially, you poor thing, you!" I was a victim again, the little girl in the woods attacked out of nowhere at the moment when my defences were down and I was apparently with God, safe and protected.

What a great test, and great lesson. My personal history, my story, repeating itself once more so that I could understand that only I can deprive myself of anything, that my fear had attracted that attack, and the others came from my guilt. That was the beginning of the dawn of light. At that moment of realization, I accepted full responsibility for the creation of my mind, and I blessed that man on the street for being my teacher. I had been told to walk in glory with my head held high. Instead, I walked in fear, with my head held low, communicating my terror to the world, instead of my light and love and certainty.

The Universe is only too willing to give you what you expect, and time is speeding up remarkably, so the manifestation of thought into reality is instantaneous.

In fact, it will reach its appogee on Octover 17th, this year, at 5:10 pm. At that moment one million souls will be putting out powerful thoughts of love and peace and blessing this earth. Because at that moment there will be an opening that will amplify any thought one million fold! But that is a sidebar. The Course says that if any one mind is fully awake and extending the gift of peace it has received, the radiance of that Light will extend throughout the Mind of God, and save us immeasureable time, at least a thousand years. Since we have been around for at least forty thousand years, that is a lot of time to save!

This is the nature of the Disappearance of the Universe. Time will disappear when we no longer have need of it to make real what is not real and never was anyway. Illusion confirns the "tiny mad idea" that we could separate ourselves from all that there is, into seemingly separate egos. But at that same moment of separation from what I call God, the answer was born, a call to joy that is irresistible. In that place of timelessness every problem has already been solved, and everything that we remember in our personal history, our petty self identification, our personal histories, never happened! "

"Everything you remember never happened! The only thing you can be certain of about the past is that it is not here!"

These words from the Course are frightening to the ego that lives by fear of love which it cannot comprehend. the ego is at best suspicious, and at worst vicious. The closer love gets, the more hostile the ego becomes, and finally, it becomes viscious, and creates what Jesus refers to in the Course as a "slaughterhouse!" It is extremely difficult to accept that the ego, to which we have entrusted the function of protecting us, is actually Hell bent on soul murder. It wants to annhiliate the existence of God, and will do it in the name of whatever we hold Holy, including Scripture!

In The Coursse, which was, I believe, sent to correct our misunerstanding of the Bible, Jeus explains how in the hands of the ego, even Scripture is turned to vicious ends, in such erroneous statements as "Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord!" A vengeful, punishing God separating the Good into the line that goes to Heaven, and the evil into the line headed straight for Hell is a delusion created to keep us enthralled in the dream of death forever! When we wake up from that nightmare and realize that we cannot die, that we are beings created of light, and energy, and that we remain forever as manifestations of thought, then the idea of vengeance, judgment, the sins of the fathers being visited unto the fourth generation, beomes as nothing. These thoughts of attack are revealed at their source, merely a mistake in perception that is not real or true. They do account, howerver for the tragedy that is taking place in this nightmare we call the earth, the Tsuami, the wars, the incredible inhumanity of humankind to the Brotherhood of man. It is all merely the energy of fear creating attack sickness, poverty, lack, and misery, culminating in that most dreaded of phantoms, death. The belief that we lose our lives or can have them taken from us, that love is hard won, that we have to deserve our worthiness, that love requires sacrifice and suffering and ultimately loss, is not now, and never has been true.

The Course in Miracles teaches us that Love is not something which can be taught, but that the purpose of the Course is to remove the obstacles to the awareness of Love's presence, whihc is constant and eternal, and indestructible. Thsi is the reality that cannot be threatened.

This is the infinite creativity of the Universe, the Mind of God. This is the parallel universe that we cannot comprehend that is barely being hinted at in quantum physics, as demonstrated in the movie "What the Bleep do we Know," This is what accounts for the apparently miraculous healings, the moments of indescribable bliss and awakening, which are taking place on this planet simultaneously with the apparently unsolvalbe dilemma of wars and incomprehensilble suffering.

The Course tells us that, since time is already over, that everything has already happened, and all of this is just a dream of time we are dreaming, that every problem has been solved, that there are many anwers we have been given but not yet heard. This is terrifying to the ego, of course, which fears the loss of control, and the end of time, because its illusory neature will be disappeared in an instant, and time will never have occurred. We will all dissolve into the Light.

"God is very quiet. There is no conflict in Him."

The Mind of God is just stillness and peace. What is all encompassing can have no opposite. There is nothing to oppose, nothing to fear, noting to struggle with, nothing to be right or wrong about. There is no man with a beard dictating punishment or reward. All those ideas are born of the guilt engendered when we thought there must be some way out of here, that we didn't need God. We could be independent that we can take care of ourselves! That us the voice of the ego, not God. That is the idea that there is right and wrong, and if we do wrong, we will be punished by roasting in Hell! The concept of punishment is simply the illusion of guilt for the idea that we could and should separate ourselves from all that IS, from "all THAT, "as my young friend Kristian refers to it, pointing to the stars over the Atlantic Ocean.

ALL judgment presumes we are guilty and must be punished. Many of us only attack ourselves, and think that we maintain our innocendce in that way But since there is only ONE of us, ALL attack is self attack. ALL punishment is self inflicted. It is only us who can deprive ourselves of anything!

Caught in a dream of death, and war, and blame and guilt, we just forget who we really are. We identify ourselves as the victims of circumstance. We feel sorry for ourselves, believing we are alone, unprotected, abandoned and guilty. We righteously justify our greed and selfishness. We confuse the voice of the ego with the Voice of God. We are filled with the fear of the illusory shadow that we call death. We forget where we really came from, and the innocence that is our birthright. We forget we are as God created us, innocent, pure and perfect in every way.

There is only ONE of us! The brotherhood of humankind is eternally joined in the mind of God. He is waiting for us to return home. This accounts for that sadness that underlies the longing for home, that sweetness of the forgotten song, the memory of those beautiful people who heard its melody with us, and how much we loved them. We all long to go home, but some of us mistake the home of our childhood for the Home we crave. When we release our personal story, when we take responsibility for being who we REALLY are, we lighten up the Universe immeasurably, and collapse time. In the gap that seemed to exist, there is only LOVE!!!

Wheeew!!!

Don't know where all THAT came from, but I felt a strong need to record it, so I did.

I feel as if I have finally understood just how powerful my mind is. If I can create that attack in a moment of hesitation, bringing my past with me, the attack in the woods, the attack on my inheritnace, the attacks of the man who beat me and dragged me in front of a crowd of people who stood helplessly watching, the attack of the robbers, the police who dismissed the fact that the man who stole my computer was still in the building, the attack of the gypsy in the cafe in Valencia, the attack of the gypsy on the Metro in Barcelona, all of it playing with my guilt ridden mind, like a maestro, then just imagine what it can do when I direct this powerful mind to creating and extending only loving, gentle, kind, forgiving and generous thoughts? Imagine the healing that is possible if my mind is that powerful?

In creating all those stories of attack and defence, I forgot who I really am. I am that beautiful, innocent, magical child in the woods, BEFORE the imagined fall from grace, BEFORE the seductive voice of the ego crept in saying that I was a liar, and that I shouldn't have gone into the woods alone, like Red Riding Hood, and that I deserved what I got.

I did not realize how brave and intelligent I was. I did not understand how brilliant it was to get myself out of being raped by seeing that the boy did not really want to do it, that he was afraid too, and that he was innocent! He was just following some crazt ego-driven script of how to be a man that his tribe had imposed on him

I have forgiven myself for believing that I was responsible in any way for his choices, or his freedom from punishment. I am not responsible for anyone but my own thoughts.Thoughts are things that take form and manifest in the body, in the events of a lifetime. Finally, here in Barcelona, I am coming home to the Truth of who I am. I am gladly exchanging it for the TRUE freedom of a mind that takes responsibility for its ability to create whatever it wants. I want the peace of God more than anything that this world can offer. I want to disappear into the light, and become one with all that there is.

I want love! I want joy! I ant freedom. I want abundance. I want peace. I want innocence. I want bliss. I want adventure. I want eternity!

I want Heaven on Earth.

And guess what?

I want what I already have! I am the love I seek.

Thank God.

"When you want only love you will see nothing else."

So, now that I have realized just how powerful my mind is, and how instantly it can create, now that I have really heard the Answer, now that my every problem has been solved, all that remains is the rest of the adventure in the illusion of time.

When I return home, I realized I do not have to stop my adventure. For ninety-nine dollars, I can get on a Greyhound bus and travel all over North America, stopping at different Course centers, and teaching and learning, just as I have been doing here.

Because, as the Course says, "To teach is to demonstrate." And I finally acknowledge the gift I have been given. My mind has been healed. I am awake. And now I have the gift to give and extend to others. I can radiate the light of my forgiven mind, my innocence, throughout the Universe.

I am not my credit card, or my clothes, my new boots, or the jewellry I wear. I am not my VERY special crystal that I wear around my neck as a magical talisman to ward off attack. I am pure light and love, and in my defenselessness my safety lies. I can ward off the attack in my own mind by being constantly vigilant, and forgiving any unloving thought, immediately. I can clear it from my mind simply by asking to be forgiven for that thought, and knowing it is not the Truth of who I am. That fast. That simple. I can become simple. For simplicity can not be achieved by one who carries past pain.

Here and now I lay down my baggage from the past. All the lovelt clothes I thought would protect me from being rejected as I go older. All the money I accumulated as a protection against a lonely old age. All the degrees I accomplished to prove how much smarter I was than those around me. (How lonely it is to be cursed with a high intelligence quotient, higher than the ninetey fifth percentile!)

Now, as I lay down the baggage I thought would protect me, but only burndened me with having to protect it, my story of being a victim of circumstance dissolves. In its place I have become a Pilgrim of Peace and a Teacher of God. My purpose and mission ha emerged. As Judith Skutch, now Whitson, told me, "We have been waiting for you, Shelora!" All it takes is "a little willingness." And I have been willing to be totally honest with myself and own my own creations, all the ways in which I made myself right and others wrong. I have been willing to see the innocence in those who I thought had wronged me. I see through the eyes of love, and all I see is love. I see a forgiven world.

I have finally recognized that it is but myself I have been crucifying all these years. I embrace myself with loving kindness, forgiving myelf for all these insane ideas that I made up to justify my specialness which kept me separate. There is nothing outside my own mind, my own perceptions. I am free to create as I wish, becaue the Source of all wills only one thing for me, that I be HAPPY!!!

And so, I will make the rest of my life a testament to the Peace of God. I will finally put my trust in Him who protects all, not in credit cards and inheritances of money, and the things of this world. As my aunt Norma so wisely said, when I told her how my sister had taken my mother's house and sold it four days after she died, despiter her distinct instructions NOT TO, "You can´t take a house into Heaven."

And it is true. What you take into Heaven is LOVE.

I know this for a fact. Because I have been blessed to hear directly from my mother who is in Heaven, a Heaven she never believed in, a place of astonishing beauty, where her mind has recreated her as young and beautiful, with long, "raven-blue black hair" where the skin on her face isn't wrinkled, where the skin under her arms doesn't sag any more. From where she is, in "rehabilitation," she now knows that she was wrong. She knows that she did not understand what her true inheritance was until she died. She told me that she never knew what love was, and she did not understand how much I loved her. She apologized, begged me to forgive her, and offered me a bunch of tiny white flowers. As she always said while she was in a body, she told me from where she is now that "old age is for old people. She always used to crack that "Old age is not all it's cracked up to be. The Golden Years, are not so GOLDEN." But she added, and this is what gives me comfort, that where she is now, the ambience IS golden. "It is golden here,"she says. I asked her how it was to die, and she said, "Not bad." Simple. Straightforward. The thing that she had been terrified of all her life, ever since she was born dead, and revived by being plunged into a bucket of ice cold water, a miraculous beginning to a life of a Jewish woman born on Christmas Day, the death that terrified her was "not bad."

So.....I have no fear of death. I know that who we really are does not die. I only have one fear left, that I will not accomplish what I was sent here to do. And that fear just disappeared, because, here and now, I am doing what I came here to do, which is to communicate, to use this body to communicate what it really is, which is nothing but pure love!!!

And I will continue to communicate, in whatever form I am asked to, for the rest of my life. I will use my gifts from God to extend love and light into the world and confirm that who we really are remains the Truth, that we cannot be hurt, and that God wills only that we be happy and free. And USE the gift of healing that God gave me.

When I asked my father, the movie maker, who only had one eye, but whose eyes I now see through; my father who sends me visions in the blinding white light on the ocean or the snow of wherever light is most intense; seen through his eyes, the light fragments into glorious colours of the rainbow, lime green alternating with navy bue, magenta with torquoise, pink with gold, shimmering transparently on the light of the water or the snow, like a gel on a spotlight, that father tells "This is what it looks like in Heaven. Isn't it gorgeous?")

When I asked him what I should do about the money I had lost to mys sister, which I had counted on to finance my house and make it possible to make my movie about the spiritual adventure story I am writing, he told me two things:

He told me:

"All things come to those who wait. There IS a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Your day is coming. Bastille Day."

Only those who know me know that that is my birthday.

He also told me, when I asked him about my project, (which I am writing with his assistance):

"Take it to the nucleus, and take it to the stars, and it will have vast implications for humanity."

And when I ask my Heavenly Father, he says:

"Patiencfe is natural to those who trust."

As the T-shirt I saw on a street in Barcelona said:

"And so it is."

--
May peace prevail.I love you all.
Shelora

Re: the 2 children

2006-10-07T10:42:00.000-07:00

Dear David,

I am in a workshop on A Course in Miracles led by two teachers from Wisconsin. I lucked into it, and there is major healing going on here. Before I came, I was infuriated by the reluctance of the bank to give me a Visa cash advance, because I did not bring my passport with me, because, quite frankly, I am scared!

On the Metro the other night I realized that I was robbed AGAIN! This time the Gypsy woman got my little wallet that had my memory cards in it. She must have thought it was my wallet. But somehow I must have known that was going to happen, because I had taken one of my cards out, a one gig one, and bought another one the day before, and had them in a different place, and had a 512 in the camera. It was rush hour. I had just been shopping and had a big shopping bag. The gypsy woman created a big fuss on the Metro, saying she was pregnant, holding a piece of cloth over her arm to make people believe she was pregnant. She forced her way into my seat, and made me stand up, using the fact that she was supposedly pregnant. Then the next thing I knew, she was up and off the train. With my memory cards, which I did not discover missing until last night. I just sobbed, David, when I realized how freaking unsafe I feel here!

All my talk about "in your defenselessnes my safety lies" feels like a crock!

But here I am in a room full of beautiful souls all of whom understand that the time space location I inhabit is not real, there is no time or space, and that we are one in the mind of God, and the universe has already disappeared into the light. They all are devotees of A Course in Miracles. They know that this is all a memory of the past. Everything has already happened! There is so much love here.

Yesterday I came here to a suburb outside of Barcelona to a session with Can and Ellie who have come from Wisconsin. Afterwards, when I went home to Barcelona, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't know why I was so sad, but I felt I did not want to be separated from these people, especially the young woman, Ellie, who is leading the group. Her husband Cam made the connections between The Bleep and The Course! It was amazing!

So.... the fact that I went to six banks and none of them would give me cash is small potatoes. I will get money on Tuesday. I can make it till then. Right now, here in the workshop, there is beautiful music playing, beautiful souls embracing and releasing the resistance to the awareness of love's presence, and saving thousands of years of time. Time is collapsing as we speak, my dear friend. It is astonishingly, impossibly beautiful. Cam just touched me ever so lightly on my toe, and I was in the energy immediately. Exquisite, pristine, pure, innocent love and light. Incredible.

So I guess there was a reason I came here. I am looking at a cross on the hill outside the window as the sun sets. I am deeply happy. There are children, babies, about twenty or thirty people in the a workshop, free! Sucj a goft/ I had no idea how lonely I have been. I am tired from doing it all alone. Exhausted. I surrendered, and support rushed in.

One of the women here embraced me and said they had told her I waa coming, but she had no idea it would be ME! She said it again and again, and then she said it was so good to see me again. And the same feeling with the Course leaders. WE have been on this path together for eons. I am on my path. There are no accidents.

David wrote:

Angel on fire...
Interesting. Last night I was at a discussion group on Conversations with God. The theme was much the same. An interesting perspective on why we choose to"fall", to immerse ourselves in the density of the relative dream as an exercise in getting to know reality better, from contrast. Curiously, the meeting was held in a Rosecrucian ritual room, with carpet, upholstery and curtains all purple. A "dead" room in several ways.

We talked about the nature of duality, how anything dual is not-God (good/evil, etc), why we choose "evil", and so forth. They say we're not here to learn but to remember. That waking state is another form of dream state.

"By coming into physicality, we caused ourselves to forget Who We Really Are so that we could allow ourselves to create Who We Choose to Be."

There was a news piece I saw briefly where they said it was flooding in Spain but the bone-heads didn't say WHERE in Spain. This affect you at all? I hear a Spanish celebration is dropping burning of the effigy of Muhammed in celebration of driving out the Moors.

Breath. Breath in life. Breath in the light, the light of God. And you will find your center...
D

On 05/10/06, David < wrote:

Hiya
Seems I'm a bit slow sometimes. Didn't "find" the 2 childrens story Krishna mentioned, so I asked about it again. Not sure why, but I'm very cautious about accepting this stuff.
Anyway, he said they were my 2 children - the past and the future. The story is my creation, my chosen illusion.

Kind of my mistake in identifying with it too much. Putting too much on it. The Universe quote today was right on (laughs)
oops.
D

The ego dream of death is Busted!

2006-10-06T12:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Lisa

What a deep outpouring of anguish. I am so sorry to hear this tale of bloody death and the assasination of innocence. The only thing that I can tell you is that today I went to a Course in Miracles group led by two teachers from Wisconsin, and they talked about orginal innocence. The woman told me she had attempted suicide six times, and the sixth time was apparently successful, but there she was in the hospital with the doctors looking at her as if she was dead, flatlined, and she kept saying, but I'm still here!!! And then she realized that her "solution" which is the ego's solution to the question of God, was death, and she was not dead! She went to her father who is a teacher of the Course, and he explained to her that we are reincarnated as ourselves. In other words, we do not come back as someone else. We come back as the essence of who we are, and it is always us! "We live one long life lasting tens of thousands of years," says the Course. We are vibrational energy, and we each have a fibrational signature that persists. We do not die! So that is the answer to your question abou those children. Read The Lovely Bones. We do not DIE! Where they are is the same place that all those innocent children in the Tsunami went. It was instant. No pain. Gone. Disappeared. Actually, the Course teaches us that everything has already happened, that the Universe is a memory of a dream, and when we wake up, it will disappear, and we will be where we were just before the Universe was created out of the tiny mad idea of separation. So, there we are. In Heaven all along, and we never even left!

All the apparent insanity and pain and suffering is the egos valiant attempt to usurp the throne of God, and tell us we don't need God. When we realize that, we come to a place where we say,

But I had such a terrible time, and everything was horrible. You wouldn't believe how horrible it was!

And God looks at us and says, basically, "I don't knwo wha tyou are talking about!" You have been having a bad dream, but don't worry, it is over. You are safe now. That is how you must be with this apparent nightmare that seems to be the world. It is a projection of fear. Jesus in the Course tells us that the ego has a range from suspicious to vicious. The closer Love gets, the more suspicious we get, and when it gets really close, we get vicious! The courage not to defend against attack dissolves it. This is the true meaning of turning the other cheek. If we want peace we can do it only by accepting the Atonement (at one ment) for ourselves, and since we are AT ONE with the Universe, that means when we accept it for ourselves it is extended to all. The great range of radiation of light that is available to us illuminates the world. The only thing you can do with the black hole of darkness is pop out the other end of the wormhole, into the light! The pressure of the dark, the mass that is a black hole is dense matter, so dense that it is purre gravity. It is the only thing that keeps us from flying off into space. When the pressure becomes unbearable, as it seems to be for you at this time, then you have to let yourself surrender to the vortex of the black hole, and POP OUT THE OTHER SIDE into the LIGHT! This transformation is exquisite in its simplicity. Anyone who is carrying pain from the past cannot be simple. Simplicity is humility in the face of the complicated machinations of the ego, the willingness to look beyond it to the Light. The power of the image of God parting the Red Sea would have far less majesty if there were not an army of warriors hell bent on the destruction of the Israelites, in hot pursuit of them. The image of the Ocean swallowing them up means more in the face of the terror that drove the Israelites foward throught the opening to the other side. Those children are innocent children of God, just like you. Your innocence is your birthright. It is indestructible. Remember the powerful words of the Course: "Nothing REAL can be threatened. Nothing UNREAL EXISTS!! Herein lies the peace of God."

I think at times when we get seduced into believing that the nightmare is real, we need to remember those words. The REAL truth of Loves infinite power to heal is eternal and indestructible, no matter WHAT it looks like in the dream. We wake up a small child that is having a nightmare, not by shaking her awake and telling her it is just a dream, but by telling her that she is safe now. Where those babies are they are safe now. They are in the arms of the angels. They are enfolded gently, being carried down a path in summer. Remember, yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. He layeth me down in green pastures. He restoreth my soul. He restoreth my soul, Lisa. Pour out your love and forgiveness and blessing to those dear children's parents, to the Amish community, that built itself on guilt and sexual repression. I think that is what has touched you so deeply. The innocence that is your birthright means you deeply understand that you are eternally pure and whole and clean and there is NOTHING that can hurt you. There is no punishment. The body, even thought it is used lovelessly, serves the purpose it was given for, to communicate love. ONLY LOVE IS REAL: That is what we must focus on in times when the ego is having a field day with our dream of Death. Dancing with death is like a skeleton wearing lipstick, says the Course. Everything is all right!! Everything is all right., I'm ok!!! But really down deep is the terror that it is a lie. Under that mask of innocence is the mask of hate, and under that mask true innocence. Does this make any sense to you? Let yourself watch the face of death until you realize it is a dream, and you allow yourself to wake from the dream of fear into the happy dream which tells us that we cannot die. Those who fear change do not want to hear that we do not die. The ego sure doesn't want to hear that! How would it keep its power over you if you lost your fear of death??? You would be impossible to control. OOPS!

Gotcha!

Love you,

Shelora

On 05/10/06, Lisa Underhill wrote:

http://shelora.blogspot.com/

Shelora,you wrote...
"The miracles in my life now appear like pearls on a string, each one perfect, each one formed from a
the crucifixion as you have always told me that many Christians are too much focused on Jesus's death. However the image and gleen of the pearls created a bright calling and compelled me on a journey inward ..how lovely that the golden thread goes to the Course. A thread being bot delicate and tenacious all at once.... sounds like you in a way!

"This is the structure I want for my book. That, and the journey to the center of the labyrinth, holding the golden thread. Because we each have to confront our own form of the Minotaur, the demon of our own chaos and confusion and pain, caused by our own misperception and fear of the Will of God. The fear of the Will of God is one of the strangest beliefs ever made by human kind. "

my gosh my heart has been tormented and in anguish over the cold blooded murders 2 days ago in an Amish community in Pennsylvania who are now grieving the death of 5 of their young, innocent girls found covered in bloody one room school house.

The murderer now dead, I believe would have benefitted from the Teachings of the Course. The whole notion of our innocence and inherent goodness, our likeness to God. It seems that rural pockets around Canada and the US suffer from the oppression of religion and beliefs about God that only serve to increase suffering and separation...blah blah... but really, I just finished reading Rhinestone Button by Gail Anderson-Dargatz, she lives on Vancouver Island. One of the key characters comes to peace with his demons and gifts of synaesthesia (sorta like seeing sound in colors) through an ultimate rejection of a traditional, fundamentalist Baptist religious community. I can't help wondering how rural life enables one to hide out and keep one's demons at bay?? Yet the tormented killer who attacked innocent students at Dawson College found his way to hide out on the internet. Cities are not immune from delusional crazy hateful minds and souls...

I need to pray for healing Shelora. For this man's family who has left his family of 3 children, fatherless, and more emphatically for the 5 young girls who left this world with a bullet in their heads. The world is now shocked at the acceptance and surrender of the Amish community amidst their private grief yet I am touched at their ability to surrender and have faith and hope in this bloody incident.

Who am I to know what is faith and when is the best time for hope and forgiveness? I do know that whatever is afflicting these school killers in the US and Canada, the Course could help them. It's the only spiritual teaching I know of that teaches us our innocence which creates the basis for our own forgiveness and ultimately God's forgiveness.

Take your mission of peace to the heart and souls of these fucked up men with guns in their hands and hate in their souls for God, innocence and desire for dominance. Let us all rejoice in our own innocence, love, and be the mirror of God's love coming through our own and other's eyes.

These killers' lost their own reflection of God's love and light and admiration for each of us. Their mirror's turned to stone as each of their soul's hardened. God had no way of penetrating their shells of "normalacy" or hate. When are we going to look beneath the gun laws as a way to protect further innocent victims? It's not enough, we need to reach these people, at the level of their inner hardening, and hatred. The gun is the final violence, outward, of their inner self violence. Not to simplify it all but our politicians/and media react too quickly to blame the guns when the souls are sick too. We are all responsible in a way to heal this separation of ourselves and others from "god"/spirit/goddess/creator.

Amazing how we are all affected by our world around us. Where do I need to feel my own innocence and surrender? How is my mirror getting fogged up and blocking my own light to shine through? How can I heal myself and help heal this violence? I can weave my own story like the pearls and the golden thread you spoke about at the beginning. Somewhere my golden thread of connection to the divine needs to be strengthened through all of this violence. Your blog helps me to have a forum for my own reconnection to my spirit and divine light. Thank you.

Thank you Shelora for the opportunity to write and nourish my soul and spirit through my own reflections and living vicariously through your journey of discovery,love, openness, and wonder!

Love Lisa
Ps: you are coming home on my birthday!! hee hee's

Do you Yahoo!?
Next-gen email? Have it all with the all-new Yahoo! Mail.

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Miracle in Barcelona

2006-10-02T09:11:00.000-07:00

Dear Csongor,

You are in Egypt at this moment. I am in Barcelona. You do not know me, but, having watched your video on your website just now, I realize that you are someone who may understand the significance of what I am about to say to you.

I too am a healer. I work with healing the mind and with forgiveness, basically with A Course in Miracles, as a therapist. This year at Easter I was told to come to Spain where I would meet the love of my life in a cafe in Barcelona. There were many details around this message which was delivered to me in a market place, gratis, by a wonderful intuitive named Sonia Haynes. Working with her, she told me details about the man, and she suggested that I paint his face as I saw it.

After this session I lay down to rest and as I watched the trees outside my window a face took form amongst the leaves, a man with a high forehead, a goatee, smiling a wickedly knowing smile. I never forgot that face. I came to Barcelona in July. I stayed here for ten days, but no one appeared.

So I set out to explore Spain, and then I found myself in Morocco where I spent a month, and had many amazing adventures.

But, you may ask, what has that got to do with ME???

I will tell you. As I was going through my papers to decide what to send back to Canada, I came upon the brochure that Betty sent me about your trip to Egypt. I had for some reason put it with my things to bring as important. I thought maybe there might be a way for me to hook up with you in Egypt. But when I looked at the brochure, all of a sudden I recognized the face smiling out at me. It was YOUR FACE I SAW IN THE TREES, CSONGOR, complete with that knowing smile of yours. It was almost as if your image had winked at me! Bizarre, eh? I have no choice but to follow spirit and contact you.

I do not know what to make of all this. But I was dazzled by your energy, and the fact that you do distance healing. You are a beautiful, joyous person. I believe have been drawn to you through the mysteries of the Universe for a reason I do not understand. I hope you will take this communication in the spirit in which it is sent, as a mysterious occurrence with no attachment to outcome.

My website is www.shelora.com

There you can read my blog, and learn a little about me.

Most sincerely yours in love and light,

Shelora Fitzgerald
--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Expectancy

2006-09-30T09:52:00.000-07:00

I have a laptop! It belongs to my host here in Barcelona.She hasn't a clue what to do with it, and it was not working, but she got it working this morning, called in a techie from the phone company, and now I am on wireless!

Yipee!

And I have a phone card which I can use on her phone. So I can call the people in Barcelona that are involved in the Course, and the Unity Church, and the people from Barcelona who I met in Formentara and Valencia, etc.

Now, you want to hear the latest? Of course you do.

You already know the story of how Sonia Haynes, the lovely Jamaican "intuitive" that I met in the cafe in the Lonsdale Quay market who, moments after the Voice had asked me why I didn't go to Spain, asked me if I going to Spain! I told her that driving to the market, not five minutes earlier, I had heard a voice suggest that I go to Spain. With the hair on her arms standing on end, she said that she now knew why she had come to the market that day to sell her meditation CD's. Not a single person had even stopped to talk to her all day. She proceeded to give me a full-blown reading right then and there. She told me that I would meet the love of my life in a cafe in Barcelona.

You may remember some of the details of that prophecy that I shared with you; the fact that she described the relationship as "yummy, yummy, yummy!" She also descrilbed it in other ways. She told me that he was a great cook, a brilliant Renaissance man who spoke five languages, that he was an articulate, and charismatic man, that there wasn't anything he couldn't do.

In fact, she described the man I had visualised and written about two weeks earlier during a course with my good friend Miriam Evers. I had written that in Europe I met a Renaissance man who spoke five languages and had a house in Europe. I had written that we would buy a house in Ireland together, where I could write. When I told her this, Sonya said, "No, not Ireland. Spain."

She told me that I would hear him before I saw him, and as soon as I heard his thickly accented voice, I would know it was him, and I would be terrified, I would want to run away, because I had been through a relationship that hurt me so much that I never wanted to feel that way again. She said that once I accepted that this was it, I would be absolutely besotted with him. She saw me looking up at him, in the cafe, mesmerized, as he talked. That was the only question I had for her, "Is he articulate?" Most of the people I meet don't even know the meaning of that word. After my last relationship with a man who couldn't spell, and knew nothing of the world, either politics or literature or anything else outside of his small world, I knew that was essential for me.

Here in Spain and Morroco many, many men have tried, but only one of them, the professor in Morroco even came close to being what I am looking for. A Brilliant, spiritual, successful man is not so easy to find, I guess! But well worth the wait, I am sure.

What a blast, someone who I actually want to listen to! And will shut up for! Someone who can teach me something!

She saw us travelling together, she saw me with my glasses on the end of my nose, painting on a beach in Greece in my two piece Mediterranean blue bathing suit, which she described to a "t." That particular piece is what hooked me, it was so accurate in the way she described the bathing suit I have been wearing here, the bathing suit I bought in Sarasota after I talked with my parents in "rehabilitation." By the way, my mother also said she went to school every day, and that she had a teacher and his name was Tan! Sounds Chinese to me. I wonder if he has "raven blue-black" hair?

She said that he had loved deeply once, and lost that love, and had been waiting and hoping for another, but he did not believe it was possible. She told me that his guides were telling him that I was coming and to wait for me. She also told me that the metaphor for the relationship was that he would hold me in his hands, and protect me so that I could grow the rest of the way up, because I had not had the protection I needed when I was a child. She said he would hurry home when he was away from me, because he could not bear to be parted from me, he loved me so much.

You know how, when I was in New York for the Sterling Women's weekend, I met a woman in a clothing shop who told me the clothes in New York were nice, but I "could do better in Barcelona."

You remember how at the workshop I received a card with a WISH that I would "Hurry home,so that he could hold me in his HANDS so that we could bask in the warmth of our love. "

I carry that card with me everywhere, along with a picture of a man who looks like the image I saw that was also on the table at the dinner in New York.

Sonya had told me that basically this relationship is a "done deal." I asked Sonia how I should find him. Her answer was blunt and to the point. "Have you never heard of letting spirit guide you?" Seeing that this was not enough, she suggested that I paint his face, which she told me was dark, with a square jaw, that he was my age, and very strong and good looking.

Sonya had promised me that she would "hook me up" with him in the Astral Plane. But that did not happen in our session.

But beyond that, seeing that was not enough for me, she suggested that I take what I knew of him, and paint a picture of him.

She had already given me more than enough inspiration and information. I decided I could give this to spirit and watch for the signs, which came abundantly, and I could do this myself.

So, I hooked up with him myself, in my own way. I did a session on my "Angel Board" which is a sort of protected form of the Ouija board, and, sure enough, just as the spirit came through many years ago and told me, six years before it happened, that my sisters twins were dead in a canoe accident, (I thought both, but it was actually one,) he came through, powerfully, unmistakeably, definitely. He told me his name, Zoltano Azroff. I knew that that was not a Spanish name. I asked where he was from. He said he was Macedonian. I asked how old he was. He said 60. I asked his birthday. He said November 5th. I asked how I would know him. He said, "I will say your name." Then, as if we were having a conversation, in real life, he paused, and said, "So, What is it?" I spelled out my name for him. And then I put the board away, and lay down on my bed, (where I found angel feathers, as you well know, because you were there when I found one of them.) As I lay looking out the window at the trees in the courtyard, I saw an image forming in the trees. It was an image of a man with a high forehead, a goatee, and a wise and knowing smile. He looked at me as if to say, "This is what I look like."

She warned me not to be too serious, because this man did not have money worries, he had done his life well, and now he just wanted to have fun!

I can handle that. Bring it on!

I certainly have had more than my share of fun here. I have had many wonderful experiences, not the least of which was my completely unplanned, spontaneous trip to Morroco, and my meeting with Professor Houssin who may be the one man able and willing to translate the Course into Arabic. The moment when Judith Skutch, now Whitson, the publisher of the Course, who Gary Renard hooked me up with, said, "Shelora, we have been waiting for you," is miraculous enough.

But I still have this hope that I will find my love. After all, the Course is different from any other spiritual teaching in that it basically says the way to God is two by two, in Holy Relationship, when two become as one. That is what I want, for the rest of my life, with one person with whom I can heal. That is my fervent prayer.Towards that end I have been working with forgiving all thoughts of separation, all ego comparisons, all ideas that I am guilty or separate in any way. I have been healing with my children, my ex husband, my mother, my father, my sister. Forgiving them, forgiving myself for separating myself from them through guilt or blame in any way, I am coming every day to deeper and deeper peace and innocence. I am ready to love again. And this one is for good, forever.

Now, of course, the question is, where IS he? How do I find him? I am going to investigate the Course peopIe here in Barcelona. I am going to try to contact this man who looks like the image I saw in the trees. I am going to try to contact Betty in Egypt, where they are travelling together. I have her itinerary in the Brochure. I am also going to contact the Unity Church. I don't know what else to do. But I am not giving up. There were too many signs and portents.

Well, I have been in Europe for almost three months, and no sign of him. I am here in Barcelona sorting out my things and sending anything superfluous home. I am sorting through my papers yesterday, and I find a brochure from the Medium from Sarasota, Florida, Betty MCCormack, who "hooked me up" with my mother and father after my mother's death.

I must have told you how they each identified themselves unistakeably, in ways that no one could have told to a fake Medium. I am not sure if I told you that story, but it does not matter so much, except to say that this woman is exceptionally good, and accurate. A messenger extraordinaire.

I know that to many it sounds crazy, but she told me that my mother, after begging my forgiveness, saying that she took bad legal advice, and that it was a mistake, said she was working on my sister"Don't underestimate me. I amalready whisperhing in her ear." to get her to understand that her intention was not to keep the proceeds of the house. She apparently had actully believed that when the house was sold, which shespecifically had said she DID NOT WANT, that it would be divided between the three of us children, my brother, my sister and I.

Now all of this could have come from any mother to any daughter, but I knew it was my mother, because when I asked what she looked like, she described herself as having "raven blue-black hair." These were the words she used to describe her hair when she was a young girl. In her vanity, she prided herself on the fact that her hair had blue highlights, like a raven´s wing, not red as is more usual.When I asked how long her hair was, the Medium told me she was shaking her head to show it was long. My mother's hair was to her waist when she was young.That distant memory of my mother's self-description resounded in my mind and heart, and I was, at that moment convinced that this was actually my mother speaking through this medium, who kept reminding me that she was just a messenger.

Through this messenger, my mother recounted that the skin on her face was not wrinkled any more.She said that the skin under her arms did not sag any more. She said something that she always used to say when she was alive, "Old age is for old people. It is not all it's cracked up to be. She always used to say, "The Golden Years are not so golden." But, fromwhere she is now, she said, "It is golden now!" Remember, my mother was 93 years old, when she died. I asked her where my mother was. She replied that she was in "rehabilitation." She then told the medium that I should follow the gold bar and that would lead me forward. She did not understand that, and nor did I until later when I realized that she had meant the golden rule, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." And then my father came through, told me that it was good to see me and my mother back together again, that there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, that all things come to those who wait, that my day was coming, "Bastille Day." tThat mystified the Medium but was entirely clear to me. She asked me what that meant, was I French. "No," I said, "That is my birthday." Then my father told me to go ahead with my project, to "take it to the nucleus, and take it to the stars, and it would have great implications for humanity." He told me that he would help me to write the story. I asked him how, and he responded, "air writing." I guess that meant that he would talk to me through the air.

So, those are my marching instructions from my father. Since then he has appeared to me in the form of a Voice, and in the form of Light, in colours that are beautiful beyond belief. Opalescent, shimmering, on the water, or the snow, or any other place where white light is reflected intensely: I see navy blue, torquoise, lime green, mauve, pink, gold, dazzling shimmering, transparent colours, like a gell over thelight. My father's voice says, "This is what it looks like in Heaven. Glorious, isn't it?" Yes, it is. And so it is.

My children do not believe me. They think I am crazy, that I am making it up. They do not believe that I saw Christ, either. But that is ok. It is not necessary for them to believe for it to be true.In fact, no matter how much of a case you make against yourself, no matter how fool-proof it is, it is not God-proof. The only case that God has against you is if you forget who you really are, and his only message is to restore you to your original innocence. This is where religion, with all its guilt and sin goes wrong. God is not about revenge. In fact, in the Course, Jesus clears that misconception up for once and for all. He talks about how the ego uses Scripture, the Bible, to justify its horrible, evil perception of the world, and of God, which it does not believe in at all, by saying "Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord" and "The sins of the fathers will be visited unto the fourth generation." Jesus explains that this particularly vicious interpretation is completely incorrect, and that the purpose of saying Vengeance is mine is to take the whole idea away from humanity, and that the opportunity for healing will be visited upon the children, so that they may see the situation with new eyes, even unto the fourth generation, and, I am sure, beyond. So my children will understand some day, just as my mother had to die before she understood what she had resisted all her life, that ONLY LOVE IS REAL, and it cannot be threatened or destroyed.The crucifixion is one more piece of nonsense that Christ clarifies as unreal. He did it to demonstrate that the pain and suffering of the body is not real, that only eternal life is real. We DO NOT DIE! We are energy, vibration, and we live one long life, lasting tens of thousands of years. All that happens is that we change form. When I asked my mother how it was to die, she said, with her usual brevity. "Not bad."

And so, in this lifetime, I have been blessed with memories of past lives, with the ability to see, vision, or clairvoyance, to hear, clairaudience, and to intuit, clairsentience. It scares a lot of people, but I cannot be silenced now. I have important work to do. And I am doing it! What a privilege it is to be able to extend the gift of healing that I have been given. I am filled with gratitude and wonder, every day.

So, yesterday, I looked at the brochure and saw shining out from it, the very face I saw in the trees. His name is Csonger Daniel. He is an internationally known healer, lecturer, and writer. His publications include: "Biotherapy: A Healing for the 21stCentury" Right now he is in Egypt with Betty McCormack, the woman who spoke with my parents and interpreted their messages to me. She is incredible.

I will now attempt to find him on the internet.

Waiting for a Miracle in Barcelona

2006-09-27T09:34:00.000-07:00

Now I am in Barcelona, after an amazing eight hour trip on the ferrry from Ibiza. I was with a young boy I met in Formentara, Kristian (note the name!) who is beautiful being who I believe will become a rock star in Spain. He will sing songs of love and inspiration for his generation, which he considers ¨lost.¨ The first question he asked me was, "What is happening in this world?" It was a real question and deserved a real answer. So, of course, I did my best to give him one. But the short answer is, "We are healing the illusion of separation from all that there is." He calls that Gaia. I don´t care what you call it, we all feel it, and know it exists, like an ancient song of joy that echoes in our memories, and seems to call us home. Sometimes we mistake that for the home of our childhood, but it is much more universal than that, because not everyone has had this experience of a happy childhood, yet everyone has this sense of a purity and innocence and a feeling of Paradise lost. Some are more saddened by this feeling than others, some more aware, some react with anger and greed, and try to steal it from others who appear to have it, or they kill those who give to them the love they think they lack. But everyone, regardless of their experience, at some level knows the feeling I am speaking of, lurking behind the appearances of this veil of illusion we call the "real world."

In that "so-called 'real' world, which is actually a nightmare of separation, the events proceeding from the theft of my wallet in Valencia two weeks ago, continue to unfold. I arrived here in Spain and found out that the bank card which was sent here to Barcelona to the address of the woman I left my baggage with, Maite, was rejected by her because, speaking only Spanish, she did not understand what was happening! My card was Fedexed immediately to me, but she had it sent back! So I waited for two weeks, and now I find I have to wait another two weeks!

It seems that there is something holding me here in Barcelona.

This morning I discovered that there is a lovely Brazilian artist staying in the same room I stayed in, in Maite's lovely apartment. And she too had all her money, 5000 Euros, her passport, her cards, everything stolen at the airport in Ibiza. She had to stay there for forty days waiting for her cards. She is the first person I have met here who has heard of the Course.

It feels as if there is a reason why I am being called back here. She told me that I should pay attention to the signs, and stay here. So I will.

Yesterday, on the ferry for eight hours in the Atlantic Ocean, with the sun glaring down on Kristian and I on the upper deck, the wind whipping my hair in my face, blowing my hat away, the engine pounding, the waves churning white in the wake of the boat, the sky clear and blue, I felt filled with an inexplicable sense of joy, you might even call it ecstasy. I feel so blessed to be here, to have survived all my adventures and come out with a sense of freedom and love intact. In fact, I feel fantastic, as if the best part of my life is beginning.

In fact, I was realizing that when I was seventeen I came to Europe for four months before I went to Montreal to the National Theatre School of Canada. An Italian man who was a guest in our home for a year while he worked at a travel agency, returned to Naples. We continued to correspond, and a year later, he sent me a ticket. I had a weekend to get a passport. My father got a friend of his to open his photography shop on Sunday, take the picture for the passport I needed, and couriered it to a friend of his in the government in Ottawa. On Tuesday I had the passport, and I flew to New York, with a letter from Augusto in Italian. When I arrived at the ship, I was directed to the address on the envelope of the letter, the Captain of the ship. He read itm ub Italian, and then smiled at me, and welcomed me to the Captain's table! I had dinner with the officers that night! Mahogany, crystal, white linen, candlelight, a boat built in the nineteen thirties making its last village home, owned by the ancient Grimaldi family of Italy, Prince Ranier of Monaco being one of the Grimaldis, some of the richest ship owners on the planet.

I cruised from New York to Brazil, throught the Carribean. Every night I stood at the prow of the boat, watching the stars and the foam on the sea, and listening to the 45 record of Percy Faith's "A Summer Place" (Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue. Brad Pitt, eat your heart out! ) that I had brought with me. I at in a swing onboard with a young man from Brussels, Thieri, who was being forced into an arranged marriage by his wealthy family (shades of Titanic!) and, of course, we fell in love, for a moment, just long enough for him to understand that he was going to tell them, after this trip he was being sent on to "think it over", that he was not going to marry as ordered.

I shared a Cabin with a wonderful woman from France. At seventeen she seemed so sophisticated to me. Her name was Ogla Cazmir Jeanon. She was a combination of Spanish, Russian and French. We spoke French together, thanks to my highschool education. She told me that her boyfriend was Briggite Bardot's manager. For those of you who do not know who Brigitte Bardot is, or was, she was the French sex kitten who started the whole blonde bimbo thing.Before there was Monroe, there was Bardot! ( Rhymes, you know.) She told me that if I came to Paris, I should look her up! Which I did, but that comes later in the story.

After visiting all the Carribean islands, we crossed the Atlantic to Naples, where I was supposed to meet the man who had gifted me this incredible cruise. But instead came a stranger to take me to the hotel, where two dozen roses awaited me in my room. The next morning Augusto arrived to tell me that he was married! So, I cried, ended the relationship right then and there.

As if reflecting my sadness, the lights in the hotel went out that night. I found myself standing on the terrace watching the lights and life in the courtyard opposite. I became aware that there was someone standing next to me, and we began to talk. He turned out to be a Spanish Concert pianist on tour. He took me out for dinner, and told me I was beautiful, and I should continue to see Europe on my own. Which I did, for four months, and then returned to Canada to attend the National Theatre School in Montreal, where I had been chosen as one of seven girls and seven boys from all across Canada to attend. I learned from the greatest talents in the country, and had an amazingly wonderful time there too, despite all the scary and challenging things that inevitably happen when you are young and inexperienced.

But back to that trip of long ago.

When I reached Paris, of course I went to see Olga, who lived in a beautiful apartment right on the Champs Elysee. She took me with her everywhere. One day we went to the hairdressers, and Anouk Aimee a famous French movie star, was there, their version of Audrey Hepburn, the gamin. And then she took me to the office of Brigitte Bardot´s manager. There was a life sized photo of her in the lobby. The two of them, Olga and her boyfriend, thought I reminded them of Zazie, a character in a film that was popular at that time, "Zazie dans Le Metro" and so they adopeted me. He drove a red MG, small English racing car, convertible. They put me up on the back seat above them, and asked me where I wanted to go! They showed me Paris like that. What a blast I had! I have been so lucky in my life!

So, as I was on the boat last night coming from Ibiza to Barcelona, I realized I was at the back of the boat now, watching the sunset. I realized also that the sunset of my life is the richest time of my life, full of the deep Burgundy and Indigo and Gold ochre hues of the sunset over the ocean. I want to experience this time of richness and share it, like the Madeira wine I drank on board the "ship of fools," as I called it! It had everything, rich widows, and a third class filled with Jamaicans and a steel band, and wild dancing, just like in the movie Titanic. It was fantastic, and I have had a life filled with those kind of adventures. Now I want to share them with those young ones who come behind, and who have the task of returning the world to joyful innocence, and finding cause to celebrate.

Which brings me to my purpose here in Europe. I am to inspire and teach and help gently those who are seeking. Those who ask me how and why I am so young and so happy I will tell. I will tell my story.

It is a story of miracles, one after another, compiled until I see nothing but joy and forgiveness everywhere. I will make my teaching and hopefully my life here, and in Canada. Wherever I am called, I will go. If it is back to Morroco, I will go there. I am being gently guided, and I am constantly astonished at home intricate, and yet simple the Divine plan is. And it is NEVER as I plan it! That is the one constant thing that I think is true. If I depend on my own strength, no wonder I am afraid. When I surrender and ask for help and guidance, I am shown the next step. It unfolds as if I were being "gently carried down a beautiful path in summer."

So, as I was leaving Ibiza, I wondered what the purpose of going there had been, and, in the hairdressers where I went to make myself lovely for ....I don't know who, I met a young Dutch woman who has a big house and six other houses. Her husband builds them.She has a vision of using her big house for workshops. It hit me. No one here knows anything about the Course. I am evolving into becoming a Teacher of the Course. I can teach here, in Paradise. People would love to come here!

I must finish my book, and come back here and do workshops, introducing the Course in Miracles, but combining it with all the creative arts, performing, singing, painting, all directed towards a discovery of the truth of who you are through creating your way home.

I can feel the way of the work forming and taking shape inside of me. Perhaps I will use Paulo Cohelo's work as a structure, with his exercises from El Camino del Santiago, the Pilgrimage. I also am realizing as I study the Course that there is a structure to the lessons that can be condensed into the structure for my book, because I am learning certain lessons that depend on others. Each group of lessons builds to a breakthrough, and the experiences that I am having seem to fall into a natural order. As you know, I am sure, the Course says that there is no order of difficulty in miracles. The golden thread of my story is one miracle after another, beginning with the miracle of my mother's being saved at birth from certain death by her grandmother.

The miracles in my life now appear like pearls on a string, each one perfect, each one formed from a resistance to the grit of pain and suffering, a sort of crucifixion which transforms them into gleaming orbs of opalescent light, little suns, all strung together on a golden thread.

This is the structure I want for my book. That, and the journey to the center of the labyrinth, holding the golden thread. Because we each have to confront our own form of the Minotaur, the demon of our own chaos and confusion and pain, caused by our own misperception and fear of the Will of God. The fear of the Will of God is one of the strangest beliefs ever made by human kind.

Now, my patience is being tested again, because I have already waited two weeks for my bank card, but now I must wait again. Why? The Course says this: "What could you not accept if you knew that everything was gently planned by one who has only your best interests at heart?" So, for some reason I find myself in Barcelona again, and compelled to stay here for another week to ten days! Yikes! I felt like I was coming home, coming home to a lover who is waiting for me with open arms. I still have faith!

Last night as the sun sank over the Atlantic, Kristian and I watched, as the sliver of moon rose into the Indigo. We had been talking all day about God, a word he simply cannot accept, too many connotations of religion. We finally decided to refer to it as ALL THAT IS! I like to refer to it is the ONENESS. At any rate, we came to a place where the first star was shining just to the right and above the moon, and I taught him the rhyme I learned as a child and passed on to my children:

Star light,

Star bright,

First star I see tonight,

I wish I may,

I wish I might,

Have this wish,

I wish tonight!

I have taught that rhyme to children in the Sahara desert, and there I was teaching it to 21 year old musician, who knows that I am returning to Barcelona as "The City of LOVE!" So together we wished on the star, for each others happiness, and our dreams to come true. I feel an excitement I cannot explain. I feel as if everything I ever wanted is within reach now. I am creating it as we speak. It is flowing through me with an abundance of Grace.

The Brazilian artist has a shop called "Full of Grace" I love that! Her paintings are filled with colour and joy and light. They are so happy. She had the same experience as me, being robbed. I think that I will put together a workshop in Ibiza, with teachers of painting, music, and drama, all tied togehter with theme of Healing through Forgiveness. I think I will call it: Return to Innocence.

I have so much to give, and I have such a wonderful story to tell. I think it is a stage show, a theatrical performance, with lights and dance and music, because it depends on my energy, combined with that of the youth around me. I see Kristian as part of it. His partner has theater school here in Barcelona, and he is a genius at lighting and sound. I am beginning to see it now.

You should have seen us on the beach that last day in Formentara! It was Paradise! White sand, no clothes, brown bodies everywhere, swimming, taking pictures of each other, running in the sand and the water, so free, so happy, like children. Kristian and his friend Germana, from Naples simply could not get over how good I look "for my age!" The want to know how I do it! Even Maite, the woman in Barcelona who grabbed me last night when I finally arrived at her door, saying that she thought I was dead, said I looked younger, and asked me what my secret is. I don't have one, except what Kristian said to me when he found out how old I am, "You must be with God!" True.

As soon as we met we recognized each other. He is beautiful, powerful, innocent, free, young, strong, the way that Christ was when I saw him painted on the cloud above Maui. His hair is brown and gold, long, and he wears white, always, and beads.

I was talking with him about the Course, in a cafe, and I gave him the book, telling him to put his finger down. He did, and it was on the words,

" I am the Light in which God sees"

At that moment there was light all around him, mauve and pink light, and he looked at me and told me there was light all around me too. We were inside a dark cafe. There was no window in the corner where we were. It was an inner light radiating from both of us, visible to both of us, in that moment of joining and remembrance. At that moment he said, "I have never felt like this with anyone! It is as if you KNOW me! And I know YOU!" And so it is.

I feel the same way at this age. I feel young, strong, free, filed with love and joy and ecstasy! I feel filled with hope and excitement about the future. It is as if everything I have done in my life has led me to this moment, as if I have returned to the innocence of my childhood, yet with the wisdom and knowledge of experience. Everything that has happened in my life has filled me with a sense of the exquisite nature of the Truth, which is overflowing Love. Literally, "My cup runneth over!"

My skin is brown the way it was at the end of the summer at the cottage in Ontario. I remember a picture taken of me, where my skin was so brown, my hair so white blonde, as I stood in the doorway of the cottage in my white nightgown, billowing around me in the breeze, that at first my farther thought it was a negative, photos back then being in black and white. The blonde curls are not there, but my hair is bleached white by the sun, and straight. I am tanned all over the way I was when I was a little girl and my sister and I lay in the rowboat, naked, to the dismay of the neighbouring cottages who would not let their children play with us. That, of course, is the difference between Puritan Canada, and cosmopolitan Europe. Nobody cares here. Formentara is filled with Germans, Italians, and Spaniards. There are children running free and naked everywhere on the beach, and their parents too. Lovely! So natural. All the children have lovely round heads, with full heads of hair. You never see a crewcut kid. And their eyes are huge and round with wonder and innocence. They seem to come from somewhere else. You rarely hear a child cry here. They are the Crystal generation.

As for Judith, there has been nothing since, so I am not worrying about the porn thing. She sent the books in English and in French to the Professor in Morroco yesterday. I emailed him. I am waiting for his response. I am filled with a sense of certainty and joy like never before. Everything is unfolding as planned, and I am simply watching in wonder.

So, my dears, this is the latest from your correspondent in Barcelona!

Waiting for the next miracle to appear.

Shelora

Free at last in Formantera!

2006-09-21T04:16:00.000-07:00

I am not sure where I am going next, after I recuperate here in Formantera, but I have started writing, and that is good. It is beautiful here, peaceful, and safe. I have finally written the letter to the Professor I met in Erfoud, asking him to translate A Course in Miracles into Arabic. The Miracle of Gary Renard referring me to Judith Skutch, now Whitson, the publisher of A Course in Miracles, who responded by telling me ,"We have been waiting for you to emerge!" was the most amazing feeling of welcome and recognition, what the Course calls a Holy Instant. The Course community is my path and my future now in a way that is becoming clearer each day. I came to Europe to write, and I am writing!By hand, now, because I have lost my laptop, but it feels clear here. The light is exquisite, and the flow is easy. I am also painting watercolours of the rainbow panapoly of light that I see when I look at the light on the water. It is so relaxed here, and sophisticated. The first night I met a lovely man, a professor from France who has been coming here for forty five years. He has a house and garden here, and comes here to read and garden and relax. He has only one arm, because he lost the other in a tractor accident when he was young. A few months ago he fell on his other hand and broke all his fingers, but he could not let them put a cast on his fingers so they could heal, because then he could have done nothing! So I could not shake his hand, but he did write a letter in French for me, as a cover letter to Marie, who is a friend of the professor in Erfoud. I am praying that he will send me his address so that Judith can send him a copy of the Course, and that he will be willing to overlook its Christian language, and be willing to translate it into Arabic. After all, Helen Shucman never believed the content of the Course which she was asked to transcribe. She was an atheist, but her willingness and obedience to complete the task are why she was given it. She said it was as if she had agreed in some other time and place to accept the assignment. When she asked the Voice,the Voice of Christ, why she was chosen, the answer was, "Because I knew that you would do it!" The instruction was clear: "This is A Course in Miracles. Please take notes." Seven years later there was the 1200 page Text, Workbook, with its 365 lessons, one for each day of the year, and its Manual for Teachers of God. Every morning between seven and nine o'clock in the morning, these two professors of Medical Psychology, both atheistic in belief, transcribed what appears to be the greatest Scripture of the new milennium. After all the misinterpretation and political fanaticism surrounding Christianity, and all the wars fought over the Abrahamic religions, this Scripture shows a way out, a way to peace. It is deceptively simple. The way to peace is through peace. If we want peace, we must reñinquish all thoughts of attack, completely. If attack is not relinquished completely, it is not relingquished at all, and, since we are actually ALL the equal Sons of the same God, the illusion of separation is just that, and therefore ALL attack is self attack!

Nothing real can be threatened.

Nothing unreal exists.

Herein lies the Peace of God.

I have been carrying that illusion of the loss of innocence since I was nine years old. Here in Europe, with so much time alone to reflect and observe my mind, and study the Course, I am coming to a clarity of purpose that is extraordinary. The flow of miracles is constant, and I am always watching to see what each day will bring and how I will be directed to proceed. It is truly extraordinary in one sense, but extremely ordinary in another, for, as the Course says, "There is no order of difficulty in miracles. Miracles are ordinary. When they are not happening, something has gone wrong." The definition of a miracle, though, is not a spectacle used to inspire belief, as we think of it in the Bible. It is merely a shift in perception, from error to seeing what is real, and nothing that is real, either peace or innocence or truth, can be threatened. It simply IS. You do not have to believe it, or go to Church, or subscribe to it, or be converted to it. The Mind of God, which Einstein said he wanted to discover, and found in e0mc2, "the equation of my youth," the beauty and order of the Universe, the speed of light or infinity, boils down to this equation, which Einstein said was the equation of his age. LOVE=SPACE. Everyt molecule of space, every particle of our being, of the Universe, is carved exquisitely out of LOVE! In the space between the particles, it is LOVE. The love that consumes all, the love of God for his creation. Agape. Whatever you call it, by any other name, a rose is a rose is a rose. Love is not something which can be taught, but the Course simply aims to remove the obstacles to the direct experience of love, which is the only way to know it. This moves you from perception to knowledge, which is infinite in its power and simplicity, and which is the nature of mircles, which heal the mind first, and then the illusion of separation which is at the root of all forms of sickness, including the sick mind, or insanity, or the instanity of war, poverty, and even death. The worship of death as the ultimate solution is insane, and it is the source of the ego mind that is dominating the planet at this moment with its ridiculous beleif that the way to peace is through war. That is a nightmare, a delusion. But once we wake up and realize that the way to peace is to become the peace we seek, we are on the journey home to the Truth of who we are , which we have forgotten, yes, but which is ineradicable from the Mind of God, which we are all a part of, whether we believe or not. The good news in this is that Hell is here on earth, and by shifting our perception of it, through forgiving ourselves for our projections onto the world of fear and guilt and pain and suffering, we become purified, and we can experience Heaven on earth. This is what I am experiencing as I forgive the thefts, and the attachment to the material world that was so upsetting to me. As I let that go, the miracles that flood in, the connection with the publisher of the Course herself, and the writing that is flooding through me, guided by the Voice for God, that is more than anything this world could every offer. I am deeply grateful for this time and this experience. I have followed the Golden thread to the heart of the labyrinth, and defeated the monster of greed, and fear and guilth, and now I experience an abundance of creative possibilities adn miraculous transformation that is infinite.I am in the hands of God, and I am eternally protected and safe. Nothing can happen to me against my will. Nothing has happened. I am home, and I am free. Thank God!

I read a book called The Boy Who Loved Anne Frank about what would have happened if Peter lived. I am realizing I must go there, and to Poland where my mother was born to trace back this feeling of fear and guilt that entered me when I was nine and was attacked in the woods. The idea that I lost my innocence for some reason has haunted me. I am still filled occasionally with the misinterpretation of God's Will for me. I mistakenly think that I am being punished for something mysterious and unknown, but all-pervasive that only God can see. This, of course is completely wrong. The fear of God's Will is one of the strangest and most all pervasive beliefs ever created by mankind. It seems to stem from this idea that God gives life and takes it away, and if we do not live correctly we will be punished ultimately by death, but worse than that, eternal Hell! This is the one misperception core to the fear of God's Will that the Course attempts to correct. In listening to the Voice of God in silence, I am told that I am innocent, and that is the truth that replaces all illusion. Salvation is merely the release of illusion, and the restoration of truth, which is that death is an illusion, we do not die, and God's Will for us is that we heal and experience complete and utter bliss and joy when we recognize that we are loved and protected eternally. God does not punish sinners. Sin is merely a misperception based in fear and guilt, and once that misperception is recognized and forgiven, healing is inevitable. All healing is in the Mind of God, and in that sense, the world is affected by my personal healing. Multitudes of minds are affected by this one simple shift in perception which is the nature of a miracle. The test, of course, is if you can keep your peace WHILE the upset is occurring, and I can assure you, I lost mine! But in the days since I have been examining my mind to see what I actually believe, and I have realized that ever since that unexpected attack when I was a child I have harboured terror at the core of my being where innocence once lay. To restore myself to Childhood innocence has actually been my life's work, and it will be completed with the writing of my book and the healing work that I will do for the rest of my life. As I write, I realize that I am a messenger of God, and He is incomplete without me.

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

David responds

2006-09-19T02:31:00.000-07:00

Very insightful blogs. I love how your travels are spontaneous, where the heart leads you. I've very glad to hear you are coming to know your purpose.

The story of your loss of innocence and how you have played out your life is very interesting. For me, there is the field of action and the field of spirit. They have a close relationship, one is within the other, but the laws of action and reaction are simply a mechanical balancing that takes place. Heres an edited version of a recent post I made:

“Firstly, its important to understand that there are 2 kinds of "seeds" of Samskaras (stored karma/ sins/ stored stress/ life debts - goes by many names) There are seeds unsprouted, that is inactive in our lives. And sprouted or active seeds that are playing out in events and experiences. These seeds, formed in childhood & adolescence are repressed into the hidden recesses of unconscious mind but continue to influence our lives.

So there are 2 types to take care of.

Firstly, you need a practice that brings you in touch with your core being. This may be prayer, chanting, meditation or something similar that brings you that experience of Self/ God/ light and bliss /peace. This is the most important practice as its one that will bring us "home", to true fulfillment. As a side benefit, it "burns" the unsprouted seeds, (forgives our sins) eliminating the future obligations. It also gives us much greater awareness, clarity and acceptance.

The practice you choose is up to you. Each of us has our own path to truth. I consider meditation to be the highest, most direct path but that is for me. Find what resonates with you. Many in the group have good experiences with other practices.

The second part of this is taking care of the sprouted stuff, the tapes and baggage that are active in our lives. The key here becomes awareness and being present. Then we move those dynamics from the sub-conscious automatic zombie like behavior where we seemed doomed to repeat them, to being aware of whats happening and beginning to choose different responses and resolve those inner dynamics. We can reprogram, erase the tapes, and break out of the loops. Like the Photographer did in Bleep. Awareness or consciousness is the source and key to everything.

This second part can be some of our biggest challenges as it requires a self-honesty and clarity that shines through decades (or lifetimes) of ingrained understanding about ourselves. Much of what we think is wrong. Trying to control, decide right and wrong, judge, its all based on a misunderstanding of our relationship with the universe. Those behaviors are natural and normal for the mind and ego, but if we identify with them, consider them "us", then we loose the truth. With awareness and resolution of some old garbage, we gradually come to a series of new understandings and our relationship to self changes. We still judge, get angry, and all that but we change our relationship with that. Instead of being victims to our experiences, we become observers. Rather than being scarred, experiences flow over us like wind and water. We stop leaving a trail of future obligations to be resolved later, like a bad debt. “

From my perspective, you've become aware of this "sin", this bit of karma playing out in your life in a loop, affecting many decisions and responses that followed. It may have been when you took on your lifes load, hence the loss of innocence. You came to identify with the experience. So its also important to understand the REASON you responded that way in the first place - why would someone attack you like that and why would you feel guilt, and so forth. And the reason is because some past actions (sins, whatever) came around in your life for resolution. And now you are resolving them. Without that, the cycle would continue, on into distant futures.

So those old sins have nothing to do with God - they are simply about your actions in the past coming around for resolution. Thats the local/ per action view. There is also the more global view, the view where God is a part of this. The perspective where God is not in the individual actions but does give a guidance, a direction to our lives. No matter how we stray from the correct path, we're still guided to that destiny. Would you for example have connected with Judith if you had not taken a self-review approach for your travels? And would that have happened if you had not had that childhood experience? I've had a couple of times in my life where I saw that perspective, where all the negative things that seemed to be happening where spun off of a single comment from a teacher far away, but it guided my life through others for a number of years. It would have been easier if I hadn't been fighting it.

And remember that the boys karma was his alone. You were merely the catalyst as he was for you. If he had been jailed for his actions, it was because of what he did and his HISTORY. What he had done before. Not because you promised him $. (actually that was a good idea - I never thought of that.)

Hope that helps with your perspective.

Understanding that the great ideas and insights one has are not of your mind but the universal mind, one begins to understand how we are a messenger of God. It is not us doing, it is the play of Nature. Understanding that correctly changes the attitude and that changes the results. Even more significantly, it opens the flow much wider.

Its also important to understand a bit about time. Time is an illusion created in the mind. But as we live in that mind-space, we must deal with things in time, in their own time, and at the right time.

I don't think your blog has changed direction. It was always about your journey - in and out. Thats why its so good. But then , thats your life, isn't it (laughs)

So in your healing, just remember nothing that happened before was a mistake - by you or by God. It was all to lead up to this point in your life so the discoveries would be there and so you can teach. You can't teach what you do not know.

And remember, you don't have a guardian angel. You have a host. Tons. From the personalized view of the world, everything is done by a deva. The leaf falling from the tree, the growing grass, the cars engine, the clouds. The world is packed with spirits. And those assigned to help us grow as we grow, attracted by our touching spirit. We can do it in a way angels can't, which makes human life precious. Contact with Spirit produces soma, the nectar of the gods. So you have a host running about arranging things for you. There is nothing to worry about.

May blessings continue to rain upon you, angel

Dear Lisa

2006-09-19T02:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Lisa
Being robbed twice in one week was an important lesson for me. Here in Ibiza following an intense process that ended with my getting a replacement Visa card and some emergency cash, showed me how incredibly blessed I am. Poverty for me is a temporary situation, not a way of life that makes thievery necessary.

I am not sure where I am going next, after I recuperate here in Ibiza, but I have started writing, and that is good. I read a book called The Boy Who Loved Anne Frank about what would have happened if Peter lived. I am realizing I must go there, and to Poland where my mother was born to trace back this feeling of fear and guilt that entered me when I was nine and was attacked in the woods. The idea that I lost my innocence for some reason has haunted me. I am still filled occasionally with the misinterpretation of God's Will for me. I mistakenly think that I am being punished for something mysterious and unknown, but all-pervasive that only God can see. This, of course is completely wrong. The fear of God's Will is one of the strangest and most all pervasive beliefs ever created by mankind. It seems to stem from this idea that God gives life and takes it away, and if we do not live correctly we will be punished ultimately by death, but worse than that, eternal Hell! This is the one misperception core to the fear of God's Will that the Course attempts to correct. In listening to the Voice of God in silence, I am told that I am innocent, and that is the truth that replaces all illusion. Salvation is merely the release of illusion, and the restoration of truth, which is that death is an illusion, we do not die, and God's Will for us is that we heal and experience complete and utter bliss and joy when we recognize that we are loved and protected eternally. God does not punish sinners. Sin is merely a misperception based in fear and guilt, and once that misperception is recognized and forgiven, healing is inevitable. All healing is in the Mind of God, and in that sense, the world is affected by my personal healing. Multitudes of minds are affected by this one simple shift in perception which is the nature of a miracle. The test, of course, is if you can keep your peace WHILE the upset is occurring, and I can assure you, I lost mine! But in the days since I have been examining my mind to see what I actually believe, and I have realized that ever since that unexpected attack when I was a child I have harboured terror at the core of my being where innocence once lay. To restore myself to Childhood innocence has actually been my life's work, and it will be completed with the writing of my book and the healing work that I will do for the rest of my life. As I write, I realize that I am a messenger of God, and He is incomplete without me.

I have so much appreciated your comments on my blog, and knowing you are reading it has made a great difference. You write beautifully, and YES, when you write you are divinely inspired. I am learning to detect the subtle difference between the voice of the ego, and the Voice for God. Get David Paul and Candace's book, The Journey Without Distance, How to Hear the Voice of the Holy Spirit Regardless of Your Religion. Do the exercises. Take one of their on-line workshops. They are brilliant teachers and their work is making a huge difference on the planet. I consider them, Gary Renard, Dennis Gaither, Jon Mundy, among the greatest teachers on the planet. And I will be joining with Judith Skutch, and Kenneth Wapnick to study more deeply so that I can be an even more effective teacher of the Course, in ACTION, as Dennis says in his forgiveness process.

My blog is taking a turn in a different direction. It is no longer just a story of a journey, but now a story of a journey home to Truth. The healing on this journey is one of the belief that giving is a way to lose, that by giving money or having it taken, it establishes guilt. I am forgiving myself for being afraid of God, and fearing that I deserved to be punished by being robbed of my money which was a symbol of my guilt. A child has no need of money, yet it was money that I promised to the boy who terrified me by attempting to steal my innocence. And when I saw him in handcuffs, I felt ENORMOUS guilt. I had sent him to jail! I had promised nothing would happen to him if he let me go, and he was going to jail because of ME! Now I understand the pattern of attack that has followed me all my life. And, as the Course says, unless all attack is relinquished, it is not relinquished at all. And ALL attack is SELF attack. Definition of guilt? Self-attack. Seemingly simple, isn't it? But once this profound truth, that the world is merely a reflection of what I have projected on it, and I am not a victim of what I THINK I SEE, then the way out becomes clear. Release the projection, reclaim your innocence through forgiving yourself for believing that by punishing. "Forgive them for they know not what they do?" Forgive yourself, for there is nothing to forgive! I asked God this morning the real meaning of giving and receiving, and His answer was simple. To give is to give LOVE, and to receive is to receive LOVE. The exchange of money for goods is the world's understanding of giving and receiving, which is why we think giving is the way to loss, and that to protect ourselves we must hold tightly to our purse strings. In fact, the tighter I held, the more skillfully I was robbed! The illusion that money is real was burst like a bubble in that moment in which I discovered that she had skillfully tricked me out of my so-called treasure. The REAL treasure came the next day when Judith told me that they had been waiting for me to emerge. Now I know that I am truly being guided, and the lessons of forgiveness that I am learning are invaluable, priceless, and the lesson IS finally being learned. Today I gave to a beggar, without resentment. I no longer see myself as a guilty, deceptive beggar and thief. I no longer feel guilty and responsible for the pain of all the world's poor, as I did for that poor boy who mistakenly thought the way to achieve manhood was to steal it from a child's body. I had the wisdom and the courage to forgive him then, and now I am finally reaping the reward for that act of kindness that my parents condoned, allowing him to go free if he promised he would never do it again. I am sure he never did. It was a mistake. And it is healed, finally, in a Holy instant, for "my Holiness envelops all I see."

Shelora

Comment from Lisa

2006-09-18T06:03:00.000-07:00

why is the divorce rate 80%? is it they "harvest" a woman's virginity and then leave her "corpse" for the vulchers??

how brutal this image is but I can't help but feel the pain of this statistic

My gosh Shelora
Your trip to the desert sounded so peaceful and sensual with the way you and your guide connected...

Maybe this opened up your flow
allowing your own juices to flow in the
parched desert

My flow is happening now, like a small babbly brook reminding me of a feeble vein of life within

I am angry and shocked today. One of my "bosom buddies" from the west coast has been rediagnosed with breast cancer again...How I wish I could find the sword to slay this dragon.

Lisa

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Healing the misperception of guilt.

2006-09-16T06:50:00.000-07:00

Ibiza
I sure needed that forgiveness process! Thanks Dennis!
But the real miracle is that Gary Renard has put me in touch with Judith Skutch, the publisher of ACourse in Miracles, and she tells me that "they have been waiting for me!" This in connection with my vision of having the Course translated into Arabic by my friend Hussein in Erfoud.

It seems I will go and study with Kenneth Wapnick. And I will write, and speak, and teach like Gary, and Candace and David Paul Doyle, and Jon Mundy. I am joining with the Course in Miracles community of teachers. I am truly blessed.

So, finally, by following the golden thread to the heart of the labyrinth, and wrestling with the Minataur, the Face of Evil, the Demon of Guilt and Fear, and finding the way out back into the sunlight through the assistance of Love, I have found my life's mission.

And that is actually what I came on this pilgrimage to do.

I am gaining clarity in this deep process of forgiveness and healing that I am undergoing here. Once I have actually healed my mind of this crazy idea that I am guilty because I was terrified when I was attacked as a child, then I can heal others who are suffering the same misperception. My mission of creating world peace begins with me. I can only be upset and angry with a theif if I believe I am one! And I am not. I am rich and abundant with God's gifts, but they are freely given. I did not and cannot steal them. They are my natural inheritance.

What better place to learn this lesson that the things of the world are meaningless, than here in Ibiza where all Europe comes to party, and I am holed up in a clean little room with the shower across the hall for 21 Euros a night!

After all, poverty for me is a temporary thing. While for the theif, it is a way of life that apparently requires deception in order to survive. I must have believed that I was a theif, and had to steal to survive. I release that belief now, and accept that all giving and receiving is the giving and receiving of love, agape, the love that consumes all grief and terror and longing.

I welcome the love of God, which is my true and eternal protection, and the treasure beyond measure. It suffices more than any dream of wealth this world offers. "To spirit, giving is all and getting is nothing." I think I am beginning to understand that statement for the first time in my life.

Relinquishing attack

2006-09-16T06:34:00.000-07:00

Now in Ibiza, I have spent the last couple of days a self imposed prison, a tiny room for 21 euros, a shower across the hall, and bathroom in the next room. Clean, but like a nun's cell. I have been reading, writing, and trying to sort out WHY in God's name I have been robbed twice in two days. I thought I had published the account of the cobra gypsy woman in the cafe across from my hostal, but apparently not. I will take it from the email I sent my brother. But the real lesson is in the core belief that has been attracting attack all my life ever since I was a little girl and a teenage boy came out from behind the bushes where he had been stalking me. In that moment of attack, I defended myself by promising him money if he let me go, which he did. But they caught him and took him to jail anyhow. When I saw him standing there, a policeman on either side, I started shaking with guilt and terror that he was being punished and I had not kept my promise to give him money. I had lied and told him my father was very rich! Ever since I have felt somehow responsible for the poor, and guilty of having more than they do. I have fought over money, the root cause of my divorce, and I have thought I had to protect myself and the survival of my children by doing so. I have fought for my inheritance, which I lost to my sister. All of this fighting over money I now trace to this one incident in my childhood when I thought my innocence was robbed. This makes me vulnerable to attack, and let me tell you, Gypsies can smell it, they work you over with your own guilt for having more than they apparently do! As she circled me like a cobra, first threatening to take my beer, while stealthily taking my photo wallet out of my purse and then handing it to me and asking for money in return, she was like a snake closing in for the kill, a consumate actress, she kept up her cry for money "por los ninos" for te children, while distracting me, and pressing me into giving her some change, and then when it was not enough, asking for MORE! She did the darting across the table from behind thing TWICE; heading for the beer, while actually having seen my wallet, she knew where to pounce, and having created a distraction which ended with me yelling that I would call the police, she left, I am sure feeling justified in her theft, since I had given her so little! What a guilt manipulator, and what an easy prey I was, sitting there with my purse clutched to my chest, thinking I had protected myself! Ironically, the closer to the chest I held my purse, the more vulnerable I became, because she had me feeling like a guilty victim because I did not give her enough! What a lesson! And now I am told I must forgive myself for thinking that I could be robbed of my innocence and my faith in God so easily. If I want peace I must give up attack, entirely, and ALL attack is self attack, or, in a word, GUILT! That feeling of fear and guilt must be relinquished entirely, or it is not relinquished at all. I cannot control what happens around me, but I can control how I interpret it. The cause of the upset was not the gypsy, but the guilt I have been carrying all these years, because the child I was thought I had sent a teenage boy to jail because of a lie. Now I realize that misperception of guilt has been projected onto all the poor of the world who believe that they have to steal or kill to get what they deserve, which is abundantly theirs by the grace of God, and need not be fought for or over. This is easier said than done, however, and I am learning the most important lesson of my life here in Spain. I am on a journey towards the center of the labyrinth. I am wrestling with the Minitaur, the Face of Evil, the Demon of Guilt and Shame and Terror that holds the world in it sway. The Course in Miracles tells me that if I can wholly release this thought, forgive it, and heal it, once and for all, a thousand will heal with me at the same time. The Curriculum is Universal. It is not up to me whether I take it, it is only a matter of when. As I write this, there is still fear in the pit of my stomach. This confusion is still there, between being punished by God, for something I did or did not do, this sense of having my life, my freedom, my innocence, taken away from me for no reason, and my innocence which is my birthright, my freedom to create which is eternally mine, this gift from God, which is life eternal, and not being worthy of it. I am breaking free of this ego driven torment that I believe has caused me to create dramas of theft of innocence all my life. Attack must be relingquished entirely, or it is not relinquished at all!
--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

The Cobra Srikes Again

2006-09-13T13:56:00.000-07:00

You would not BELIEVE what happened last night! I spent the day shopping for the first time since I got here, since the weather had changed and I had sent stuff home and lightened up. Nature abhors a vacuum and all that.

At the end of the day, I sat down to have a Spanish supper, and ordered a BEER. As soon as it arrived along with it arrived a Romanian Gypsy beggar. She invaded my space, asked for money in Spanish, reached across and tried to get a sip of my beer. Then she reached down and picked up my small zippered case with my photo memory cards in it and handed it to me, and asked for money in return! I was flabbergasted! How had itotten out of my purse? I grabbed my purse and clutched it close to my chest, but she would not go away. She circled me like a cobra, while a group of English tourists watched. She left, then came back and asked for money. To get rid of her, gave her a small amount of change. She was not satisfied, and asked for MORE, then she did the swooping in for the beer move again.By this time I was yelling for her to go away, or I would call the police! She left, after another round of "por los ninos." I ate my spaghetti, and went to pay, and discovered, yup, you got it. My WALLET was gone. While she had reached over to get my beer, she had gotten the wallet out of the purse with the other hand. Sleight of hand par extraordinaire. I mean they are PROFESSIONALS! I have never seen anything like it. And everyone was wataching the show! Nobody did anything, they were mesmerized by her, and it is distasteful to watch.

This timeI completely lost it. I stood up and yelled I HATE this fucking country! Twice in five days. So there I was in the police station again, filling out forms. A woman in the street allowed me to use her phone to phone Canada, and I cancelled my cards immediately. It has taken no less than sixteen separate phone calls to at least seven different phone numbers since then, including Panama, Baltimore Maryland, Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal, not to mention Barcelona and Valencia Visa. Yikes! But I found a wonderful Dutch lawyer who spoke fluent French and had just bought a huge amount of land to develop into a community designed for seniors and youth combined. Architecht designed, no less. He walked the streets of Valencia at the hottest time and eventually we found the Western Union where emergency had been sent by Visa.

Tomorrow I will get my replacement card, thanks to the travel agent who let me use her phone for long distance free for hours! Tomorrow, hopefully I will be on the ferry to Ibiza.

What is going on here, do you think? I have spent a great deal of time contemplating the meaning of all this drama and trickery. What is the Universe trying to tell me?

Meanwhile I am reading a fascinating book called The Man Who Loved Anne Frank. From thepoint of view of Peter as if he had survived and kept his vow not to admit he was Jewish or ever tell anyone who he was. All right until he sees Anne's face staring at him from the book cover, in America where he is now marrried. Anyhow, this has set me to thinking I must make a trip to Konskovolia a part of my pilgrimage. Any info you have on that would be much appreciated. I will return to Barcelona and perhaps set out on El Camino, and do part of it, then go to Poland and Germany and France.

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

A Forgiveness Process from Dennis Gaither to You

2006-09-12T07:21:00.000-07:00

When you are feeling upset, first, pause and take a breath. Take 3 – 4 slow, full breaths and make a soft "Ahhhhhhhhhh" sound as you exhale.

Let yourself be mindful of any thoughts, feelings, and body sensations you may be having.

Remember, "I am never upset for the reason I think". Are there any meanings or interpretations based on the past that are causing you to react in this way that you are aware of now? Any familiar patterns? Just allow yourself to be aware of the patterns and feelings without judgment. Be patient with yourself. This takes practice.

Recite this prayer: (Or something similar.) The important thing is the willingness, not the words. Allow in the feeling of willingness or openness. Make it an offering from the heart. It may help to personalize it by beginning with something like "Dear Holy Spirit" (or Mother/Father God, Jesus, Higher Power, Allah, or whatever is meaningful to you).

I am willing to let this problem of, (name the problem), go.

I am willing to let my way of seeing it go.

I am willing to see it differently.

I am willing to see it in YOUR way, as YOU see it, with LOVE.

Then take a moment of silence as you offer your perception of the problem up to your Higher Power. Offer it as you would a precious gift given to someone you love. In your mind see and feel yourself doing this. Then-

I am willing to let YOU heal my mind.

I am willing to receive YOUR meaning now.

Then wait in silence. Open your heart to receive a miracle. It may come as a feeling, a thought, words, an image, a new memory, music or in many other ways. It may not come in that moment, but trust that it will at some time in some way. Be open to receive it.

Then intentionally put the new perception into some kind of interpersonal action that reflects your new way of seeing the situation. This can take many forms. Examples might include: an act of kindness, an acknowledgment or apology or perhaps a forgiveness ritual. Let your Inner Wisdom guide you in this. This will strengthen and solidify your new perception and understanding.

Epiphany! A Forgiveness Lesson in Valenica

2006-09-12T07:18:00.000-07:00

I was in an internet cafe in Madrid and for the FIRST time since I have been in Europe I took out my laptop and took it to an internet cafe. A man saw it and waited all day until I was working at an internet station in the cafe with the case on the floor beside my foot. My foot was TOUCHING IT! When I realized it was gone I asked them to call the police. They refused. So I went out into the street where I found a traffic cop who came with me, and a lovely man who was a professor of business. He spoke English. We went back to the internet cafe, and while we were standign there waiting for the police the man who had eyed my computer came into the cafe and stood in front of me pretending to look at a bulletin board. I recognized him from the morning when he had looked at my computer with greedy eyes. Immediately that he realized I recognized him he darted out of the cafe towards the elevator and jumped into it and went UP! I told my professor friend that it was him and we went downstairs to watch to see that the man did not come downstairs and leave. The policemen arrived and I told them he was IN THE BUILDING! They said, "NO, he has left!" And there I was, with FOUR policemen, none of whom spoke English, and one Business professor, and no one could catch him or even believed me or understood what was happening. So I lost all my pictures from my incredible trip, and all that I have written, and all the pictures of you and I and all the pictures from the last three years. I was going to back it up that night. SHIT! But there was a reason. The next day, after filing the police report, and calling Canada to file a report with my insurance, I came to Valencia, where, I thought I would be able to go to the beach and recuperate, because you really need to heal after a theft. It is like a form of rape of your indentity, and the girl in the hotel suggested I go to the beach where it is calm and peaceful.

On the first day in Valencia, I could not find the beach, but I went looking around and tried to find the Teatro Principal, since that is what fascinates me. I had a map, and I was trying to find the theatre, which was supposed to be off the main square, but there were so many streets radiating off teh main square, and I could not find the correct street. I took one street that looked right, but thenI stopped in dismay, realizing I was lost, when suddenly I noticed in front of me, on the corner of the street a small curved white feather swirling in a circle about four feet in diameter. It went around and around, until it was sure it had my attention. Then it began to spiral upwards, until it disappeared, or so I thought, into the blazing sunshine. I watched, and sure enough, it emerged from the glare of the sun and moved to the left, as if guiding me to follow it. So I did. I went back up to the square where I had made the wrong choice, and followed it to...the theatre. Beside the theatre was the tourist information where I saw there was a theatrical presentation of the history of medieval Vallencia that night, so I got a reservation and decided to go to see a Cathedral that was nearby. As soon as I entered the Cathedral a young man named Victor accosted me and told me that Dan Brown who wrote the Da Vinci Code was a liar, and the REAL Holy Grail, the cup that Jesus drank from when he was blessing his disciples at the Last Supper, WAS THERE IN THAT CHURCH!!! I scoffed at him, and he said I should go and do the audio tour, and afterwards he would bring me the brochure in English that explained it. And there it was, in a chapel above the alter, the cup that Jesus drank from, made from agate, polished in Syria or Egypt in the first century, brought to Rome by St. Paul, and used in remembrance of Christ for centuries, hidden, and then passed on. So that was the miracle, but the REAL miracle was the blessing that I saw in a painting in the Cathedral of Valenica. There was a painting of Christ with the THEIF on the cross, and I remembered that Christ forgave him, and told he that today he would be in Paradise with him, and so, answering the question, "What would love do now?" I forgave myself for my anger at the theif, and expressed gratitude for the blessing of seeing what might actually be the Holy Grail. (Althought the Spaniards do not believe it, even though the Pope did!)

I realized that at some very deep level I have been projecting onto the world that I am in some sense a thief, that I do not deserve what I have, and the freedom to do what I am doing, and what I have, my abundance, my life, because in some way I have not truly earned it, and therefore I must be guilty, and deserve to be punished. Ergo, I created a thief to rob me, so I could express the rage and guilt that I feel towards myself onto the thief, and desire him to be punished as I think I deserve to be.

And so, remembering what Christ did, and realizing that we are all one, that Christ is not special, merely a brother, an innocent Child of God, like myself, and realizing that God is nothing more or less than agape, or the Love that consumes and forgives and blesses al with compassion, I forgave myself for believing that crock of guilty nonsense that I have been carrying around like so much extra uneeded baggage. I decluttered myself of that erroneous thought, and returned to simplicity and peace, here in Valencia. Someone who is carrying past pain and negativity cannot be simple. And cannot receive love. There is no room. Too much baggage. And, my God, it costs a lot of money to send baggage home where it belongs!

As the Course in MIracles says, "The only thing about the past that you can be certain of is, it is not here!"

So that is story of my the learning on my pilgrimage for today!

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Magnificent Madrid

2006-09-07T07:57:00.000-07:00

Well, after about seven days of horrendous communication difficulties, combined with fear of some parasitic disease punishing me for my brilliant time in Morocco, I finally succeeded in getting my ticket changed,. I had to pay for it (using air miles, of course) because they just didn't buy my staying here until the end of October because I was sick. They were willing to go to the end of September, but the last flight home is the end of October. Quite frankly I am not at this point sure why I bought the extra time, but I did, and now I am in Madrid.

Granada was the last place I surfaced, and posted to my blog. Granada's sweetness and combination of Muslim and Christian cultures suited me to a "t". O spent a luscious week there, visiting L'Alhanbra every day, and finishing with a visit to the summer home of Garcia Lorca. I read his "Letters on Duende" (the demon of inspiration which separates the great artist from the mediocre) on the bus as I came to Madrid.

Once I arrived here, I sunk into a funk. The energy here is dense, intense, filled with money and power and grandiosity. Everything is overstated and excessively ornate, almost self consciously comparing itself to Paris, London, New York. It took some getting used to after the simple beauty of Granada, which is a city of only 250,000. Madrid is more like 3 or 4 million. I hid out from the complications of learning yet another Metro system and finding out what I absolutely had to see, in a tiny hotel room in the centre of the city.

Never a moments silence; after the liquid subterranean lush green beauty of Granada; it took me a couple of days to adjust to the more rapid rythyms of Madrid and get the hang of it. But once I had taken the tourist bus to get an overview, I got off in front of El Prado, and went to the only Museum in Madrid open on Monday, La Rena Sofia where I saw a wonderful Picasso exhibit centred around the 25th anniversary of the return of Guernica from MOMA to Madrid. A stunning collection of all the firing squads, faceless on the right, aiming at the heroic victims of whatever war it was, The second of May against Napoleon merged with the German attack on Guernica, it really was powerful.combined with works from El Prado that inspired Picasso, Manet, Velasquez, Goya, all the firiface-to -ace with Guernica, the most powerful anti-war statement of the twentieth century.

I think I actually began to understand the exaggeration and extreme distortion of the lines Picasso uses in Guernica. It is like a silent scream, jagged in its intensity. But one last symbol of hope, a flower clutched in the hand of the dead soldier, disappeared after the second world war in his later works. I bought a book by one of his many wives and mistresses, Francoise Gilot, and found it interesting to read what was going on in his life during that ten year period and her understanding of the man who, in many ways reminds me of the tyrant that is my uncle.

I have visited El Prado, of course, and the Royal Palace, etc. But the piece de resistance was last night. I got dressed to the nines in my long black dress, and took myself out on a date to the Teatro Royal where, from a front row seat in the second balcony I saw the most gorgeous Russian version of Le Corsair with the Kirov ballet! What a treat! It felt like I was a little girl again being taken to see the ballet with mom. I found myself sitting in the same seat that she occupied for nearly thirty years at Massey Hall. She left an unconsious legacy for which I am deeply grateful.

I will never forget her dressing in her black dress with the lace insert and her Sealskin fur coat, smelling of perfume, her red lipstick and black hair upswept as she came in to kiss us good night before she and dad went off to the theatre or the symphony, where she brought home autographs for me of famous musicians or actors. Dad had friends from the mysterious past in vaudeville who sometimes came to visit. He shared memories of seeing Pavlova dance, or dining with the entire Sadler´s Wells ballet company in New York.

Then there were the special nights when we were dressed in satin and allowed to come along into that glamourous world. I especially recall when we were allowed to go into the lighting booth at the Roual Alexander Theatre and survey the stage through lighting gels, courtesy of the manager of the theatre, also a personal friend of dad's or go back stage and visit with the Prima ballerinas, Moria Shearer, with her brilliant red hair being cut by Robert Helpman and dropping in shanks onto the white floor.

And then those terribly British, terribly gay men, and elegant women would appear at our house for supper! One moment I was in a movie theatre watching them on the screen in The Red Shoes or Tales of Hoffman, and the next the stars of the movie were discussing the scarcity of meat in London after the war, and dad was agreeing to send them meat or driving them to Niagara Falls.

To a romantic dreamer like me, it all seemed like a movie, and it was my life! What a privileged childhood we had, and how the echoes of it still linger in moments like last night at the Kirov Ballet, which I had never seen.

True to our Fitzgerald7Shugaar roots, I headed downstairs through elegant seventeenth century rooms, past portraits of Kings and Queens and finaly backstage where three other people waited. As soon as I arrived I was told that we could only see Ulanova. Fine with me! We were escorted to her dressing room where the lovely ballerina, (can´t remember her last name in Russian) welcomed me into her dressing room alone! I told her about how Margot was a frequent house guest when I was a little girl and truthfully admitted I had not been so inspired by a ballerina since Fonteyn! How gracious and ethereally lovely she was. Her arms went on forever, flowing like water in a silent fountain. Her bows were deeply humble and included everyone equally. Such naked intimacy behind the mask of such rigid formality. No lie, she was incredible.

Naturally, I got her autograph, but I had left the battery to my camera charging in my tiny little hotel room, so I did not get a picture of us together, her exquisitely made-up face like a mask that only came to life under the intense lights. They got the flowers all wrong. The colours of the set and the costumes were the pinks and torquoises of Matisse, yet they gave her yellow sunflowers!!!

I forgot my camera battery, because at the moment I needed to leave for the theatre, (where I had lined up for an hour and half along with a large group of Intrernational Baccalaureate students and dance students waiting for last minute tickets, a sight you would never see in Canada, I can tell you!) I heard a thunderstorm break out! I got flustered and rushed out of my room, late as usual. LIghtning and a downpour and not a taxi in sight! But a man on the corner was selling umbrellas, so I bought one and headed for the Metro. What a gas to take the Metro to "Opera," dressed to the nines in my long black gown.

Afterwards I took myself out to the theatre restaurant and bought myself a lovely dessert and watched the rich Spaniards and their stolid wives dine out in splendour. The restaurant was incredibly dramatic, with a canopy of stars placed exactly as they were on the night of the opening of the restaurant, and all the waiters in white gloves! Just my style. But still alone, I am afraid.

I have not yet returned to Barcelona where my things are waiting for me to sort out and send home. OK, OK, you were right. I took FAR too much. But it was worth it for last night alone. I will divest myself of even more and set off on El Camino de Compostella (which means Field of Stars.) After Morocco I feel I can handle anything.

I will begin to seriously look into the possiblity of work here soon.

I am deeply connected to my inner dialogue here, as I imagine happens for anyone when you are absent from your own language and from anyone to talk to except yourself. I read and value literature more, and I experience things very intensely.

In some sense, the purpose of my trip is already accomplished. I feel very much at peace, and am enjoying a serenity that has eluded me for years. I am walking my pilgrimage every day, closer and closer to God. I am deeply grateful for the inheritance we did receive from Mom, however small, because it has enabled me to make this trip. But I want to continue living like this. I crave, and I do mean CRAVE a place like Lorca's, where it is simple, beautiful, and quiet, in nature, near water, and light, where I can write.

It is very hot and still in Madrid, but not for much longer. I can feel the change in the air. The thunderstorm last night was the first inkling that there is anything in the world except constant one hundred degree weather and blue skies! I wish that I could just find a place to set up and stay for a few months here! It suits my tempermant, being a summer born child, I think.

I remember you saying once that I should spend the last part of my life as an ex-patriate in an artistic community. You were pretty close to it, because now I am looking for my kindred spirits here.

My time alone has honed my senses and I am ready for companionship of a deeper nature, like that I had for a brief moment with "the professor" in Erfoud. I feel I still have something to say, and am being protected in some sacred way as a messenger of a deep and inspiring peace and joy that I have found in my life. I can honestly say that I have beheld the face of Christ, and that is not something that everyone can say. I feel blessed by and grateful for every moment of my life, no matter how much suffering and illusion I had to see through in order to get here. I feel abundantly blessed and I owe it all to the presence of the Voice of God in my life. I am walking on toward God.

Granada- Where East Meets West

2006-08-31T13:56:00.000-07:00

La Alhambra - Granada

Finally, after a week of recuperating physcially and mentally from my trip to Morroco, and adjusting to the European pace of life, I spent the day yesterday at the most perfectly beautiful place I have ever experienced. La Alhambra, which means ¨red¨in Arabic, is the remnants of a palace, or rather I should say a city of palaces, gardens and fountains, built by what the Spanish and the British refer to as ¨Moors¨but who actually were Muslims who invaded Spain from Morroco centuries ago, in fact in the eighth century of the last milennium.

Here in the mountains where the water flows abundantly, and cools the air, they harvested and controlled it and incorporated it into pools and fountains and elaborate chanels that flood the entire place with perfectly mirrored reflections of its delicate beauty. Everywhere you turn there is a new vista of elegance and simple beauty. The hundreds of delicate white alabaster pillars that support dark arches of wooden lattice work carved from cedar, have withstood centuries of what has destroyed every other monument of equal splendor.

Earthquakes, wars, and simply the erosion of time have not greatly affected this beautiful place where once beautiful women dressed in silks and flowing robes lived in Harims while the Sultan dispensed justice in the Hall of Justice, and the public waited for his decision in the marble floored anterooms; where guests were welcomed with grandeur beside the reflecting pool or a fountain formed from twelve lions, each with a sparkling stream of water emitted from its mouth, at the center of a cross representing the four elements of the universe.

Designed by architechts who clearly took into consideration the temperature of marble both in winter and summer, the angle of sunlight at sunrise and moon rise, the movement or stillness of the reflecting pools, arranged to display the shadows of the columns and the light through the traceries of lattice and the greenery of the gardens, , this splendidly sensous city reflects for me what my Palestinian friend said when he said, "Once we were a great nation. Now we are nothing."

This is the first time I have actually seen the marvels of the Arabic mind at work, executed with such attention to detail and proportion that its beauty stuns you. No wonder the Muslims dream of recovering this place for themselves! Time has barely touched it. It was designed to last for eternity, and it has come very close to achieving its aim, as close as anything in this world can claim to do. The heartbreak is that at some point, the control of this beautiful place was surrendered, without a battle, by a sweet natured Arab named Boabdil, who, unlike his viciously brutal father, was a gentle and peace loving man. So, he left in the night, asking only that the portal by which he left be closed so no one would ever leave by that door again. Without a bloody war, his court divided by disension, the Spanish somehow were able to divide and conquer with politics and innuendo, taking advantage of Boabdil´s uncertain hold on power and inability to take a resolute stand and command his people with authority. In a moment of weakness, Boabdil allowed Queen Isabel and King Ferdinand to take over La Alhambra in 1492.

If that date seems familiar to you, it is because the first thing the Queen did to celebrate their victory in recovering and conquering the Arabs who had lived for centuries in La Alhambra, was to give money to Christopher Columbus to go to find the fastest route to the Orient, so they could conquer that too!

Today I saw the casket in which Queen Isabella kept the jewels she alledgedly sold to finance Columbus' trip. It is kept, believe it or not, in the museum attached to the Cathedral that she had built to celebrate the victory of Catholicism over Islam.

The Cathedral they built is an incredible contrast to the beauty of La Alhambra. It is enormous, with 45 foot high cuppolas looming high over you so you must gaze upwards and feel overwhelmed by its immensity. But to me it seemed gaudy in its Baroque overstatement, filled with ornate golden statues and elaborate dust filled altars worshiping the Virgin Mary secreted in every corner. Even the candles that flicjer and burn in other Cathedrals here are electric imitations.

The subtlety and delicately orchestrated loveliness of the Arab architecture has permeated Granada, which, to my mind, makes it the most beautiful city in Spain.

But, in contrast, the Catholic sensibility to my eye seems permeated with blood. The blood of Christ seems to be the obsession of all the paintings and statuary,. That, combined with the sacharine, sentimental idealization of the Virgin Mary, with the ornate throne upon which she is constantly placed, and the extravagant and excessive use of gold seems garish to my eye, next to the simplicity of line and sweetness of La Alhambra.

It might be too much to say it seems arrogant, but it feels like the place is boasting and shouting is in a place that should be still, and express gentleness and humility. But that is how it is here in passionate Spain where it is almost impossible to hear silence.

I have trouble with the blatant adoration of suffering, the images of the bloody crucifixion and the sad, weeping faces are everywhere. The love affair with Christ's painful death seems to fill the paintings and statues that suround you. It is like an altar worshipping death. Nowhere is there the image of the risen Christ, filled with joy, demonstrating that death is merely an illusion. Where is the Christ that welcomed children and taught that you must become as a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? Any child that enters here would be frightened at all the blood and gore. By the time they are grown, they have dismissed God, and turn instead to drinking, gambling, and sex.

The wonder of the miracle of the resurrection seems entirely lost here in the world that worships money, power, sex, and, yes, death! It is entirely based in the manufacture of guilt, and the erroneous belief that confession gives you a clean slate to sin again! It fosters dependency and encourages guilt and fear of punishment to control an errant population who seem to ignore the whole thing with great ease! The women seem dowdy at fifty, descending into plump maternity immediately after marriage. The men congregate in the cafes and watch television and drink and smoke constantly and play pinball.

Outside the Cathedral lurk gypsy women who accost you with a branch of a plant that is shown on top of the Cathedral. The try to press it into your hand, and if you make the mistake of accepting their gift, as I did, they immediately proceed to read your palm in Spanish, telling you, of course, that you will have a long life, your children will all be healthy and free of accidents, and you will have a great love in your life, and he is waiting for you here in Spain! Well, I may be gullible, but that gullible I am not! And then they want money for telling your fortune in a language you do not understand, and did not ask for. And if you offer coins, they refuse them, saying coins are bad luck, and they must have paper!!!! Well, I lost my peace on that ruse for a moment.

That experience seems a perfect example of the contradictions of Spanish culture, though: gypsies preying on people who are paying three Euros to go into the church! And then, of course, you pay another three for the museum where you get to see where Isabel and Ferdinand and their crazy daughter and her husband are buried in iron caskets in a crypt. (The English woman beside me said she wanted to crack them open so she could see what they looked like! On second thought she took that idea back immediately! I assured her that they were not there, anyway, that they were somewhere else. I left it an open question as to where, but I pointed up. She seemed to understand.)

Most of the tourists here are European, and the preponderance are from Italy. I understand a little Italian, so I listen in on the guides pointing out the superiority of Catholicism over Protestantism, and I wonder, ¨Will it ever end, this constant comparison of religions, each one proclaiming it is superior to the other?¨The fight for peace seems destined to continue until humanity recognizes it is one, and it cannot be separate from its Source which is Divine Love!

Here I am in an internet cafe surrounded by images of the young Michael Jacksonin Thriller, Tiger Woods, Richard Gere, and somebody´s famous basketball, images of the American culture they aspire to emmulate.

And it all began here in 1492 when Isabel and Ferdinand won La Alhambra and sent Chrisopher Columbus off to find China, and he came back with America! Here is where East meets West, and I must confess, after this trip I have a far deeper appreciation of the Eastern way of life! It is far too expensive here, 1.80 Euros an hour. But at least I have recorded my feelings about Granada.

I managed, finally, to get my ticket changed so that I do not return until October 30th, so I hope someone is reading this blog and knows where I am! My next step is to call my friends in Europe who have offered me places to stay in Germany and in Copenhagen. Perhaps Lisa will find me a place in France. I would love to hear from anyone who is reading this blog! My email is shelora.fitzgerald@gmail.com

The Flow

2006-08-29T10:07:00.000-07:00

The flow is in the waves of the desert, the movements of the wind lapping against your cheek, the flapping of your scarf in the breeze as the desert sand cools. the flow is in the outbursts of laughter and music, spontaneous as the tears that flow in response to a moment of truth in a crowded cafe or a dirty tenement kitchen. The flow is the organice movement of life, recognized in a holy instant, without fear, without greed, without regret. I trust in the flow of the current of the life force to carry me through and take me to the destination that is the same for all of us, the Ocean of Divine Love.

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

I Return to So-called "Civilization" in Spain

2006-08-29T08:57:00.000-07:00

You are DARLINGS! It is SO good to hear from you.

I have not been near an internet cafe since returning to Spain a few days ago. I had so much to integrate during this return trip that I went into seclusion, so I could hear myself think, and process what has happened in the last month.

I went into culture shock returning from Morroco. On the last part of the trip, in Tanger, I returned to the place where I bought a "Kilim" which turned out not to be a Kilim, but to be machine-made in Europe, and not silk, but cotton, and FAR too expensive. I am ashamed to admit thatI was taken there by an "official guide" who, of course, turned out to be not official at all.He was one of the famous thieves who prey on gullible women like me. But, having spent three weeks in Morroco, almost a month, actually, and having been educated by the rug salesman in Marrakech who invited me home, I went to the police in Tanger, and then to the place where the guide had taken me.

The owner, a Berber gentleman, said that he was not there at the time, and it would not have happened if he were there, naturally. They would have thrown him out in the street, because their establishment is known all over the world. Wisely, knowing that I had already gone to the police, he gave me back most of my money.He said that the guide had told them that he had taken care of me, taken me to stay with his family, etc. and therefore he had received 250 Euros for his "work". I got 350 Euros back, and I get to keep the "kilim" That 350 Euros is what I am living on.

On the ferry-boat I met an American woman who had just married a Morrocan man fourteen years her junior. She was 37, from Illinois, and the boy was 23. This followed a two year courtship that began on a holiday in Turkey, during which she became convinced that he loved her for herself, and not for sex, because, of course, they don't have sex until they are married. She was weeping in the ferry terminal, because she had to go back to America for four months. It turned out she has fourth stage breast cancer, and had to go back to finish her radiation treatment. She had no money at all, and so I fed her, and adopted her. Turns out she also had no idea of the bus schedule, so when we arrived in Algeciras in Spain, at two o'clock in the morning, she had a six o'clock flight to catch in Malaga and the bus station was closed.

So I thumbed for an hour to find someone who would driver her there. Being a blonde at the moment seems to have advantages. A Morrocan man stopped and picked her up for me, an answer to prayer. The men on the sidewalk who had been watching the whole affair said, "You are an angel!" I have had so much generosity in this trip that it was easy to give back.

Howver, the ultimate highlight of the Morrocan trip was the Sahara. On the second day in the desert on camel back, alone with my guide, M'Barach, we arrived at a Berber Oasis, with a dark tent, made of blankets draped over a structure built of bamboo sticks, a kitchen, couches, mattresses, rugs, blankets, and a well.

The place was deserted.There were pots and kettles and blankets, etc, but the well was completely dry. The temperature was 50 degrees centigrade. I was wearing the cotton caftan I had sewn for me in Erfoud, white cotton, but I was dripping with sweat. So M' barach went out into the desert to find water. He came back with a big can full of water which he playfully splashed on my legs, and soaked my cotton scarf that I had been using to protect myself from the sun. This is called a Morrocan shower! He had dug two wells in the sand with his own hands! I can tell you I have a new appreciation of water!

Thank God for my wonderful guide, M'Barach. He knew the secrets of the Sahara so well that he knew how to find water, both for himself, and me, and mark it for his fellow Berbers.This is the life of a nomad.He took such good care of me. He knew the desert so well that he showed me a fox, and a lizard, which they call the "fish of the sea."

On the last night we reached the Oasis at Merssougah, where Caravans have gathered for thousands of years. Everyone from all over the world was there, primarily rowdy Italians. I did not feel like joining in the party, prefering to remain with the blessings of the solitude I had been experiencing, listening to the slap of M'barachs slippers in the sand, a meditation in rythym with the camels footsteps, sleeping under the stars, talking with the Berber children, learning a few simple words of Arabic from them, like "itrene," which means "the stars."

At one moment, perched side-saddle on the camel, watching the sun set over the dunes, as my shadow stretched longer across the sand, I broke into a song of praise of the magnificnece of the desert in a language I do not know. I found myself pouring out all the love of God that I have been experiencing so profoundly and yet so simply. I was filled with pure rejoicing and the words just poured out of me, sweet, flowing, musical, like Hebrew and Greek and Arabic all combined into one.

Later, I realized that I think I must have been speaking in what they call "tongues," like Paulo Cohelo did in The Pilgrmage. When I was finished, M'Barach said, in English, That was a good song!

I realized afterwards, when we arrived at the big Oasis at Merssougah, that he wanted to show me off to his fellow guides, as we had become quite close during the trip. After all, it is a very intimate thing to be alone in the desert in such naked, burning heat. There is no room for pretense. Nature dominates.

But I chose to sleep in the dunes distant from the Oasis, and woke before sunrise to watch the sun rise in the desert. What an incredible trip! I will go back there some day, I hope, but this is definitely the trip of a lifetime, that I will never forget.

You are right, now I am in Spain, in Granada, recuperating from Morroco. I am trying, without success so far, to change my ticket back to a later date. I am supposed to come home September 7th, but that is not going to happen. I may have to go stand by. The phone communciation here is next to impossible. I have been trying for days to get through to them, without success. I will try by internet.

Tell me which package has arrived? Is it from Tanger, or from Marrakech? I am slowly divisting myself of the non- essentials, because the experience in Morroco, after Fes, in the Sahara, was incredible and all the things I thought I needed dissolved. The simplicity and the beauty of that experience will remain with me forever. In fact, one night there was a sunset so magnificent that I told myself that I will remember that moment on my death-bed, and go straight to God.

Returning to Spain was a shock. Here I hear the sound of discontented, spoiled children crying, complaining, demanding. I see children driving Disney toy cars, and fighting over taking turns. I see that what people earn in one month in Morroco buys a pair of shoes here. I am ashamed of how I haggled over the price of things in Morroco. I never heard a child cry in a spoiled, whining, complaining way. I saw beautiful, peaceful, happy, healthy, if dirty, children. I see loving families, proud parents, laughter, sweet smiles of joy and pride.

Here, it is LOUD! Everyone smokes, yells, and fights. I see children feigning illness in the emergency ward where I went when I found myself because I was bleeding internally. I freaked out, of course, but it turns out that it was simply a hormone imbalance induced by the progesterone that I got from my doctor friend in Fes, the one who spent three years in L.A. and then started the institute for sexually transmitted diseases in Morroco. He was responsible for introducing the idea of sexual protection to Morrocans, for whom the subject is taboo, since sex outside of marriage only happens with prostitutes or divorcees! (who are considered tantamount to prostitutes, since they are no longer virgins.) He told me that the rate of Aids, based on his statistics in Fes, is one in a thousand.

Of course, this fact is not known, because it is completley politically incorrect, as is the statistic that 80 per cent of marriages end in divorce! This leaves women in a ridiculous position, as they no longer have value on the marriage market, and are forced to work endless hours for ridiculously low salaries, and put up with constant requests for sex from married men, and single alike, who consider them fair game. My Doctor friend paid his assistant 500 dirhams, or fifty dollars a MONTH, and on this she was suppose dto support her two children, but was forced to live with her mother at the age of thirty-six. And he claimed he was broke because he had to pay her! Meanwhile he spent every day after he worked in his clinic, at the hotel, drinking, playing cards, and dancing with his girlfriend. Because, of course, he is divorced!

I was overwhelmed by the poverty, and did not know what to do. I spent a night with Said, the musician son of the Fes family, that ended at four in the morning with the call to prayer. It was so beautiful that at that moment I felt that I was a Jew, a Christian, and a Muslim, all wrapped up into one, and that the solution was already available.

If only all the religions would realize that there is only one God, and that God is LOVE, and nothing else! For me, the Morrocans were closer to God than the so called civilized Spaniards. Here I turn on the television in my room in Granada, and I see the bull-fight, with blood dripping from the bull that is beef, completely depersonalized. I watch the poor bull, confused, controlled, manipulated, and finally brought to its knees in submission after a prolonged torture, only to serve the ego of the man who kills him to the sound of applause.

But that I expected.

What I did NOT expect was the blatant pornography on five different television stations. Soft porn, yes, but it was so anti-erotic, all tied up with some thin plot line about gambling, and violence, the other vice of Spain. Everyone here plays the lottery or gambles. The other television stations all have psychics or tarot card readers who counsel depressed people about their "problems," while on the other side of the screen people make out, or there are advertisements for the lottery or phone sex.

NOT a happy people! It makes me sympathetic with the Muslims who say we are dorrupt!

In Morroco there was poverty, but there was a simple openess and joy in living, despite the poverty, that touched me deeply. And there was a deep spirituality.

I met an amazingly intelligent and cultivated man, Hussein, who moved me with his vision, a teacher, a GREAT teacher, whose English was astonishing, and who spoke fluent, brilliant French, English, and Arabic. A man who has dedicated his life to ensuring that the young Morrocans are well-educated and can raise themselves above poverty. Fighting the good fight, and doing good works, and making a real difference, I think.

I met one of his students, a young man named Muhammed, (they are all Muhammed) who astonished me with his fluency and the poetry of his language. But he too saw me as his way out of Morroco. As I waited for my bus in a cafe, he pleaded with me to let him see me naked, to hug me, to take me back with him, saying his teeth were white, his English was brilliant, and I would not regret it!

God help me! I do not want to marry a twenty-five year old Morrocan boy! Let alone let him see me naked! I try to tell them I am older than their mothers, but they will have none of it! Apparently it is common for eighteen year old boys to marry desperate women of two or three times their age. My family in Fes begged me to find European husbands and wives for them. I cannot.

But, of course, I have compassion for them. They want to get out so badly, and Canada is one of their main destinations, because we speak French here, or at least in Quebec.

So, enough of that. I must put it behind me and move on.

Perhaps when I return to Canada there will be something I can do.I will definitely continue the contact with Hussein who is more interesting intellectually than any man I have met in Canada, or elsewhere. A devout Muslim, he agreed to read A Course in Miracles and consider translating it. That is a miracle in itself, and he wrote in my book "God bless the woman who tries to learn and to comprehend, and God save those who want to bring spiritual life back to usual/ normal and natural."

Moving on.

I have dealt with my medical problems, having been assured that it is nothing particularly serious that I was menstruating at sixty-three! I was having visions of flesh-eating disease, because I have broken out in hives all over my arms, legs, and even a little on my face. My legs are raw and dry where they rubbed against the camel. and then the blood came, and completely freaked me out. I thought I was doomed! That I had caught some rare parasitic disease and it was eating me from the inside out! What a Drama Queen I am!

But it gave me a chance to see the medical system here. It is nowhere near as hot here as it was in Morroco, and I am in the mountains. I will go and see El Alhambra tomorrow. I needed this time to recuperate, get my hair done, and re-enter s0-called civilization. The wonders of a clean toilet! The gratitude for a simple meal. I miss the mint tea and bread and jam in the morning. I am thinking of going to Turkey, where I hear it is equally cheap, and you are treated exceptionally well.

I still have to go back to Mai Te (a compression of Maria and Teresa) in Barcelona, where my other suitcase is resting. I didn't need a THING in it, of course, and I will send everything in it home. She is a lovely woman, but does not speak a word of English. I must phone her again and let her know I am all right, and that I will return soon. Meanwhile, I am stuck here in Granada, attached to the everyday details of my life getting sorted out, and trying to become efficient again, after the fluid rythyms of Morroco, the waves of the desert, the heat in the afternoon, everyone sleeping, the wind, the music, the sounds of laughter and music, the sudden explosions of joy and recognition, the looks of love and sweetness, the young man in the line at the ferry singing the call to prayer for me, and everyone stopping and tears in their eyes from the love of God, even tears in the eyes of a Palestinian man sitting by the door of the hotel in Spain, when I embraced him.

They seem so much closer to God in Morroco than here. Every moment of every day someone is thanking God for everything that they have. I have learned a very important lesson, and I am very deeply grateful for this opportunity I have had to experience the other side of life that ninety per cent of the world lives every day.

Now I will deal with this problem with my ticket, and then I will go on. I have been re-reading Paulo Choelo's The Pilgrimage, and I feel that after Morroco I am ready to do the Pilgrimage to El Santiago in September. But first, I must change my ticket.

Thank you for your presence and open-heartedness. Your spirit is like that of the Morrocans, generous, and willing to help, no matter what. It is simple, and rare, this ordinary, simple humility.Pure souls, the two of you.

I cannot give you an address, however. I could give you the address of the woman in Barcelona, but she does not speak English and she does not know where I am. I am feeling more alone here in Spain than I ever did in Morroco, but I am adjusting, after a lot of reading and writing. It was very good to hear from you. I am o.k.

Shelora

Revelation in Erfoud

2006-08-18T08:46:00.000-07:00

There was a reason that I came here to Erfour. At first I said "I do not want to wait here in this dusty town to go to the desert.There is nothing here for me." How wrong I was. Once again. I have been here for two days, and it has been amazingly instructive.

Yesterday, after the revelation I had in the talk with Said, the musician, that there is a way that is above all religions that separate Jew from Christian, and Christian from Muslim, and our agreement to work together, he asked me to promise that I would tell everything that happened to the world. In my own way I am. I reaIized that night, at four in the morning, as the call to prayer began, beautiful, plaintive, sweet, that I needed to find the person here in Morroco who can translate A Course in Miracles into Arabic.

Today, as I sat in the cafe owned by the driver of the Land Rover that will take me to the Oasis in Merzzouga today, (where all the caravans meet) today, I received the answer to that prayer. I saw an amazing, beautiful, elegant Berber man, wearing a blue and gold caftan. I asked who he was, and they said, "Oh, that is 'the Professor' " They brought him over to meet me and I was astonished to reconize that he spoke PERFECT, BRILLIANT English, better than my own! He sat down to meet with me, and I realized he could understood the concepts I was trying to explain to Said, the night before in Fex.

Taking my hand, we both closed our eyes, and went instantly into deep meditation. When we opened our eyes, there were tears in them from the sweetness and depth of the sacred connection. It was a Holy Instant that I will never forget as long as I live. He said, "You are the hub. I am the hub. each molecule of existence is the hub of the universe!" Finally, someone who goes to the heart of the matter, immediately, and even deeper than I imagined possible.

He caught my attention instantly because he talked of the way in which language can enchant the user of the language until you are under the spell of your own words. This is a phenomenon only someone who uses words brilliantly like him (or, ok, me, if you insist) can understand. If you are a master of the language, it can take you over, and IT speaks YOU! This is something very few people understand, let alone articulate. Imagine my delight when I heard him say this, and I explained, "It is a gift from God." He said, after a long silence...."Yes, but is this an inspriation or a revelation?"

At last, someone who knows the difference! And can meet me where I am, and teach me something.Immediately I became his student, and teacher. deep listening. A deep and lasting connection that will have profound implications for humanity. How I know this I do not know, but I know it, beyond doubt.

A teacher of Secondary School, elegant, polite, and a deeply spiritual man, in the cafe we connected so deeply that I realized he was the answer to the prayer I made yesterday for God to send me the man in Morocco who would be able to translate A Course in Miracles into Arabic.

Of course, he will need to read it first, and this is a very immense task, but this man has a comprehension of the splendor of language and of God, and is open to the concepts in the book. He is a professional translator, a lingust, and an artist with words.

In fact, what I am learning here in this Muslim country of the riches of the heart are lessons of the Koran, as much as the Bible. And now, of course, there is another scripture, after the Old Testament, after the New Testament, after the Torah and the Koran, that is the next step.

I believe that A Course in Miracles and the principles of Oneness therein are key to the next step for the understanding of humanity of the true nature of reality. This is the scripture for the new Milennium, and the foundation of the transformation of the mind of the planet, so that together we can heal the illusion of separation. The implications for humanity of melding the three great religions and taking them to this new form of thought are beyond comprehension.

So, the revelation that I had with Said, that there needs to be something higher than all this religious craziness, this war based on the idea that there is a better way, a better God, and that one religion has exclusive access to that way, I have found it, resulting in the belief that the way to peace is through war; and I will bomb you into submission until you accept my way, which is clearly the only way.... this insane beleif system of separation is the source of the problem: There must be some way OUT of here! An d the way, of course, is to judge and condemn anyone who does not agree with my individual point of view, my limited ego identity, called individuality. The supremacy of this individuality is highly revered in the West. And look where it has led us. Hell bent on self righteous destruction and death for every single one of us.
Because the Truth is there is only One of us. But the redemption inherent in that Truth is that salvation is available for every One of us simply by recognizing that Oneness.

A Course in Miracles teaches that every problem has already been solved, that all attack is self attack, that the war is internal, just as peace is internal, and there is only one Universe, one mind of God, and through the eyes of God, there is no line in the sand, and nothing worth fighting about.

The teachings of the Muslim religion are of peace. The teachings of A Course in Miracles are of how to actually CREATE peace. I tell the professor that they love me here, and he says, But you ARE loveable!" An embarrassed silence, and then an ackowledgement of the Truth of that statement, without ego. Hunbly, I accept that I AM LOVED AND LOVABLE!!!

All this comes from putting the Peace of God above everything else. I am finally learning the truth of the words: "every problem has already been solved, trust would settle every problem now, there are many answers that we have heard but not yet accepted, there is no order of difficulty in miracles." I am learning that if you ask, you receive, that miracles are not spectacles, but shifts in perception, that the Holy Instant, the moment when two souls meet and become one, and are joined in eternity, occurs in the most unexpected and marvellous of ways, and can happen anywhere, at any time. The only thing necessary is an open heart and a willingness to accept that God's will for us is that we be deeply, profoundly, joyously happy! A miracle is not a spectacle. It is merely a shift in perception from the illusion of separation to the recognition of oneness.

But enough of that.

You would not recognize me. I am mellow! I am having fun, and doing what I do best. I am teaching and learning and spreading peace and laughter. I am not judging. I am trusting. I am patient. I am relaxed and open minded to see what new adventure each day will bring, and I am not disappointed. Never.No complaints, no worries, no stress. This is the life for me!

Hassan, the driver and owner of the cafe, the Land Rover, and, apparently, this internet cafe, where I can stay as long as I like for FREE told me that Moroccans love Canadians, because we are so HAPPY! They do not like the Italians and the Spanish who come here only to get Kif and Hashish, and are difficult and demanding. This, he says is why he likes me. I talk with everyone, like family. "You are my friend," he says, angered that they tried to charge me ten dirhams in his internet cafe.

Last night I went out in my new white caftan by myself, now relaxed and beautiful and graceful, like a Moroccan woman, and encountered a group of women sitting together on the sidewalk. I connected with the children, kissed them, and talked with them in my few words of Arabic, and before we knew it, we fell in love. One of the little girls, the only one who spoke English, invited me home to eat with them. I did not go; because Hassan had told me that he would take me to a wedding. Instead he slept, and I missed both the Wedding and the dinner. But that is how it is here. Everything gets done somehow, and the timing is perfect. I am, believe it or not, learning to be patient, and trust in the Divine plan. Today, once again, I realized how simple it is. Be the love that you seek. Be the riches that you seek. Be the joy and compassion and trust and confidence and abundance that you seek. There is nothing outside your own mind that has power over you. It is all a projection of your past, the baggage you project onto every new relationship, until you make yourself right, that you are above the will of God. Instead, give your faith and your problems to God. .Focus on what you want, the Peace of God, and nothing else. From that place, you create your day, moment by amazing moment. Each day, ask for one small sign that it is directly from the Source. Each day, listen for the Voice of God in the wind, in the stillness within your own mind, and feel the connection to all of Creation.

In this way, every day I am given so much. I am so blessed. My cup runneth over! I am filled with gratitude.

In Fes, the miracle of the loaves and the fishes happened every day, as Maman fed everyone, dancing in the bowl with her hands in the couscous; a smile on her face. I told her sincerely, "You and I will meet in Paradise." Since everything has already happened, and there IS no time, I speak from a place of higher knowing. She said, "Are you sure?" And I said, "I am sure." Because now I know that paradise is a state of grace that can be achieved here and now. You don't have to die to get to Heaven. God is not some man on a throne telling you to go to Heaven or Hell. God is the shining stillness of the eternal moment of now. It is the bliss of waking up to realize that there is no death, all suffering comes from believing in the illusion of separation. There is and can be no separation from all that there is.

"Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Therein lies the peace of God." I have finally learned that there is NOTHING more important than the Peace of God, the stillness, and acceptance of what is, the beauty of each shining moment that radiates throughout every molecule of what appears to be matter, but is actually energy in the form of mass travelling at the speed of light.As one of my high-school students told me, if you could travel as fast as infinity; you would live forever! That is because at the speed of light; time stops! There IS not time, only infinity!

As Einstein said, the eqauation of my youth was e = mc2 The equation of my age is love = space. Every molecule of every particle of everything that exists and everything in between, it is all LOVE! And nothing else exists! Not the war, not the line in the sand that divides the earth into pieces and says this is yours and this mine, and if you draw a line in the sand and I cross it, that is grounds for war.

If we really understand that we are all ONE, then there is nothing to be done except to surrender to God.s will for us, which is.....wait for it......that we be happy!

The blissful Truth is that we are born innocent, not sinners, that we are free to choose. And who would choose hate, greed, sickness; war and poverty, if they knew teh infinite abundabnce and deep acceptance and love that is available to them at any moment. If you want everything, you must give up attachment to anything, and the world will be yours.

"He is here, radiant, invisible,

And His presence makes the garden grow more fragrant."

Rumi

Here, amongst the dirt and the stench of poverty, in the sweet smiles and generous hearts of the Moroccan people, I find peace, and a joy unlike any I have known before. I am home.

Morrocan Mysteries Unveiled

2006-08-17T05:18:00.000-07:00

Last night was my last night with my Morrocan family. They did not want to let me go, and kept me three days longer than I expected, but finally, when they realized I WAS going, they gave me a party, with couscous, and dancing, and drums and clapping and singing. They hennaed my ankles, like in a marriage ceremony, and told me that they were marrying me, because I had stolen their hearts, and sang loves songs to me, while I danced for them. Then they rushed me off to the bus station in a friend's taxi. An absolutely incredible eperience. One of the family is a Morrocan star, Said, and he sang to me, after we stayed up until four in the morning, talking about God, and how their is no Jew, or Christian or Muslim, only one God. An amazingly deep conversation. Afterwards he agreed to write a song about it, and asked me to write an article about my experience with him and his family. I will do it. I will never forget them. Now I must find rich husbands for them. This is their only social policy for women! Otherwise they do not have a chance; and the divorce rate in Fes is 80 percent!!!! I am constantly thinking about the poverty, and the sickness, and the joy they find in living amidst such difficulties. I am learning important lessons, and finding a sense of purpose and peace. Today I will begin my jourey into the Sahara I hope. I am in a small village called Erfour, in a hotel, with backpackers from all over the world.
Shelora

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Experience of a lifetime

2006-08-14T08:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Mindy, et al
You would not believe where I am now. For the last five days I have been living in a Morrocan home, with a mother of fifteen children, a widow of 70, who owns the tenement house that holds fifty poeple, (because that is what it is) where five of her grown children live with her, along with their families, the two other children she has adopted. They have adopted me, andI am having an absolutely incredibly amazing experience. And, yes, I am writing it all down.

I am living with them because the Palestinian man, the former P.L.O officer and friend of Yasser Arrafat (who quit because of the corruption he saw in the army that was tolerated by Arrafat) whom I met on the bus from Agadir to Essouira, the man that I wrote about before, asked them as a favour, to take me into their home and treat me as he would. And they did.

He sent me to them, sight unseen, and they are now my family. They have given me a Morrocan name, Zahara, and they take me everywhere. I bathe with them, eat with them, go to the Medina with them, talk about their love affairs with them, laugh, cry and dance and sing with them. At moments, they burst into song and everyone is clapping and dancing and celebrating to the music on the Television, which is constantly playing, or they grab drums and tambourines, and sing and undulate and ullulate to the stars!

The first night I arrived, a baby had been born hours earlier. I was welcomed to the celebration which went on until two in the morning.Since then I have heard the story of how the beautiful Assia was asked to marry a rich Egyptian man, after only eight days. She is so beautiful, and it was a Cinderella story come true. But, living in Cairo, returning to Morroco from time to time, to be with her family and the five year old she has taken as her own child, because her friend abandoned him, the marriage was strained. After two years, during a trip home, she received divorce papers. Over, as quidly as it began. Now, at 29, no longer a virgin, she has lost her value on the marriage market, and lives with her mother, works in a factory, and dreams of marrying again and having children, like her mother.

I am learning Arabic. They laugh at me, but they can translate from French, which I speak, thank god. The sights, the smells, oh my God, the smells! The food, constantly coming, huge platters of food, served by Maman, who sits, like a sultan in her living room with a propane stove at her side, perparing meals. We all sleep in the same room, on benches or banquettes. We sleep when we are tired, wake at dawn to crow of a rooster, or the rising of the sun, kiss each other on both cheeks and say "bon jour," and begin again.

What takes fiteen minutes at home takes hours here. To shower means you must heat the water on the propane stove, bring it to the kitchen, fill a bucket with water from the tap and add the hot water to that, bowlfull by bowlfull. Then, shampoo your hair, pour water over your head onto the floor, where it goes down the drain along with the soapy water from washing the clothes, all into a hole in the tiled floor.

The intimacy of the women in the home is so deep and real. they are themselves copletely in the home, and they stay there day in and day out. Assia and I go out from time to time, to shop or have a cafe, or ice cream, or visit a family member.

That glace, or ice cream with their adopted friend, Hamid, who drives a first class Mercedes taxi, the large kind, not the petite kind, was the cause of a bout of diahhrea (I do not know how to spell that) that laid me out for a full day! Yesterday we went to the Medina where I bought the most important item on my list, toilet paper, a luxury they do not have in their Morrocan toilet, which, of course, is a hole in the ground, with two ceramic places for teh feet, and a bucket of water under the tap to flush with. Saba, Assia's sister, gave me medication for the diahhrea, because she works for a doctor, next door to a pharmacy, and she always carries remedies with her.

There is so much sickness here. Of course, I never drink the water, but there must have been a microbe in the milk, because everyone was sick from the ice cream. I suspect the milk is not pasteurized. I have gotten used to the smell of excrement every time the apartment door is opened, and the constant Morrocan tea, and the primitive showers, except, of course, at the home of the doctor, who is rich; and has a huge apartment, and was the head of an intsitute for the study of sexually transmitted diseases in Morroco. He is rich, divorced, and has all the amenities. He educated them to use protection, but the prostitution rate among the poor is so high that he had one prostitute with aids who had slept with over three hundred men, unprotected. He estmates that one in a thousand persons has Aids. That is incredibly high. But, of course, sex is a topic that everyone thinks about but no one talks about. And no one admits there is Aids here, because of the political implications. There are no social programs here at all. The only plan to make a good life anyone has is to marry a European, especially a rich one.
I have learned a great deal about the importance of love and family here. They have next to nothing, but they share everything so generously. I know that is a clichè, but, still, it is clear what matters is love.

This morning there was an eruption, and screaming, and I recognized that sound. A woman in terror of her husband. They were having a fight abut money.Later we encounter her on the stairs, her shirt bloody, her eyes both black and bloody. I tell her in Canada, the man would be in jail. I wish that were true. I say there is nothing more important than peace, and that money is not worth fighting about. They tell me that this happens all the time, and it is always about money. The men work in an abbatoire all night, slaughtering cows, and come home to discontent anxious wives, and three, four, five kids to feed.

The other day I woke from a nap to see the children playing with what I thought was a toy lamb. In fact it was a baby calf, found in the womb of the mother cow that their father had slaughtered the night before.

They have no toys. I bought the small boy some plastic animals, and he loved them. They live on 500 dirham, or fifty Euros or 80 dollars a month!
After this, if and when they let me leave (they want me to stay here with them forever) I will go to the Sahara, ride a camel, and sleep under the stars, as I have always dreamed. If you do not hear from me, it is because I have been taken prisoner. Morroco has won my heart.
Here I am learning what really matters, and living full out!

As a man in the Medina responded when I asked him about the peace, "What is peace, exactly? Then he pointed to his heart, and we understood one another completely. That man had lived in NewYork for a year.

Everyone asks me what I do, and I tell them I am a teacher. I tell them that I am a psychologist. And sometimes, after a long and deep conversation, I tell them I am a teacher of of God! I tell them that I bleieve all the pain and suffering in the world is because we have separated ourselves from God, which is all there is, and that the Universe and all of creation is Gods, and his will for us is that we be happy and peaceful and love one another. I tell them I believe that the peace we all pray for is an interior job. The peace of God is more important than anything this world has to offer. And I tell them that there is only One god, and it is all of us, it is inside of us, greater than anything we can comprehend, in the DNA of every cell of our being, in Hebrew; Greek, Aramaic, and Arabic, is written the words, "God, eternal, within the body."

So, here, in a Muslim country; I am learning to remain calm and grounded in the midst of poverty, violence, and sickness. I think constantly of how I can help them. I talk business with them. They do my eyes Morrocan style, with Kohl, and dry my hair for me, and bring me gifts of food and drink.

Tonight I will meet the man that wants to marry Assia, a friend of her ex husband's, and a Morrocan rock star. We will go together to a small Morrocan village. Everyone is coming to meet me. I am some sort of star here with my blonde hair and my Canadian accent in Arabic! What a trip!

As my dear friend; Yussef Marzouk Mohamed or Abou Ahmed, the Palestinian, said, "This is a trip you will never forget" Thanks be to God!

The man...

2006-08-06T21:17:00.000-07:00

Last night I was invited to the Agadir Beach Club by the two German women I met the night before. It was VERY grand, and as we were listening to the music, (this time sung by a Russian imitating Shania Twain!) a very elegant Morrocan man, wearing a grey suit, red tie, and blue and white striped shirt, descended the stairs, exuding composure, grace, humility and power. I watched him, then turned away for a moment, and, when I looked for him, he was gone. I was munching almonds, so, a moment later, when he came up BEHIND ME and leaned over the chair and said, "Good evening madam," I CHOKED! Of course, I thought it was HIM, and I was waiting for him to say my name! What a fool I felt as I choked, and he apologized. He was extrememy charming, and it turned out that he knew the women I was with, and recognized that I was a new friend, so, as the Director of the Hotel, he was graciously welcoming me. He spoke a few words about how he would be crazy not to welcome three such beautiful women, and then went on to attend to the other guests. Very charismatic, yet humble at the same time.

Later, after a lovely evening, filled with laughter, music and dancing, and children everywhere, I asked one of the waiters where he was, and he said that he had gone to bed. But at one in the morning, he reappeared, and said they had summoned him! He thought something was wrong, so he came. He sat down with us, and we spent some wonderful moments. He offered his protection and hospitality, along with his philosophy of equal treatment for all people, and we had an amazingly deep conversation about his mother and how she taught him to treat women well. He extended his invitation to us to use the pool and the facilities of the Beach Club, which is next door to Club Med. I will definitely take him up on his invitation.This more the idea I had. I will go there today. Kind of a rehearsal, I think. I could get used to this life! After Spain, the South of France, perhaps the Cote D'Azur, and maybe Monaco!

The Coast of Morocco

2006-08-06T00:37:00.000-07:00

I separated from the two young boys in Marrakech and was on my way to the station to go to the coast of Morocco, when I found out that the train doesn't go there, but only the bus, and they leave every hour. So I shared a taxi with a French Bison meat salesman who buys his Bison meat in Saskatchewan, and went to the market or Medina, where, OK, I bought a rug and had it sent home....and spent the day in the market, and then was invited to the home of the rug salesman, and shared Tagine, a delicious Moroccan dish with lamb and dates and prunes eaten from one large platter in the centre of the table, which was a coffee table, for FIFTEEN PEOPLE...(There is no exclamation mark on this keyboard, or I would use it there) There were babies, and teenagers, and little boys, and sisters, and cousins and aunts, all crowded around, there was lots of laughter, and a "thousand welcomes." The "tagine" was delicious. They have offered everything from a thousand camels to two thousand five hundred, with a down payment of two hundred, for ME. Of course, they all want to marry an "etrangè" preferably a rich one like me, and have me take care of them for the rest of their life in the lap of luxury in paradise, aka Canada. They really don't see any other way out.

After that lovely evening at the home of Shakib, one of the other rug salesmen came and took me to find a hotel for the night, but they were all full, so he suggested I take the bus to Agadir, which is a seaside resort on the coast of Africa; which I did, but I had to sit in the seat at the front of the bus that is usually for the bus driver's assistant; so I SHARED THE SEAT with this Moroccan man for four hours, while they talked in Arabic about me, and I suspect about the fact that I am a single "American" woman traveling alone in a Muslim country.! (At a time when the Muslims are watching very carefully what is happening in Israel.) I had a long conversation in English with a young Moroccan man who wanted to share his religion with me. Of course it all boils down to the same thing, we only attack to defend ourselves.

Anyhow, back to the man squished into the seat with me at the front of the bus; he told me that the other man said he was going to steal my bag, (I have only a small back pack now, as I stashed the rest in Spain near the ferry at a Christian place for backpackers, for free.) So I could not sleep all night. Then I arrived at four in the morning in Agadir, and there were no hotels open. The taxi driver drove me around for twenty minutes and then gave up, then threw a temper tantrum when I only gave him double for trouble, (it cost me 60 Moroccan Dirham (about eight dollars) to get from Marrakech to Agadir, and 40 (about five) to get to no hotel) So I walked the streets until I found a two star hotel that was waiting for a client, but he had not shown up, so he gave it to me. I slept all day, then went out in the evening, after a day spent reading inspirational meditations on the virtues of patience and courage and obedience, etc. I ended up in a French Moroccan restaurant suggested by a French couple on the street. IT WAS GREAT. I had pepper steak and a small bottle of red wine, and afterwards listened to the French Moroccan sing English songs like "Summertime" in a thick French Arabic accent. Thank God for my high school French, is all I can say. But the language of music is universal, and when she went into her own music, I could not restrain myself. I jumped to my feet, kicked off my shoes and started belly-dancing. This was after they had a birthday song for a group of gay men who were British ex-patriates and like the young Moroccan boys. Shades of Suddenly Last Summer (Tennessee Williams.) After that I met an interesting couple of women from Germany. They were sisters-in-law. We talked about relationships for a long time, and I am meeting them again tonight at a different piano bar. It is MUCH cooler here, only 28 at night, and probably thirty or thirty one during the day. And there is a breeze. I got a copy of the Herald Tribune, and caught up on the news. There was a hysterically funny piece on Mel Gibson, who was busted for drunk driving by a JEW, now that is all part of the Jewish conspiracy, you know; we are everywhere!!!!!! (I found the exclamation mark....it was the "equals sign," which is supposed to be the equals sign, which is the dash, which is.....you get the idea....total confusion!!!!!. ) So now I am figuring out simple things like how to find laundry soap so I can wash my clothes, then take a dip in the pool at the hotel. This, after a wonderful Basque ommelette and fresh squeezed orange juice, while I wrote postcards.

It is amazing what a night's sleep and a little company will do for your spirits, especially when there is no hot water in your hotel room shower! Thanks everybody for being there while I record my adventures for you. It does make a difference, knowing you are there, and reading, truly! I will come back to Spain on Monday, travel to Granada, and maybe back to Barcelona, and then to France, after I send MORE of my stuff home from Barcelona.

Next to me a Muslim woman and man are looking on the websites and reading some Ayatollah's instructions and opinions regarding Lebanon. It is a little weird being a rich Canadian in this poverty stricken third world country that is clearly sympathetic to the Hezbollah. Scary, if I wanted to go there, but thankfully, I don't, and everyone is very friendly, and I have not been robbed, YET!
Love you all,
Shelora

If you were wondering where I am, I am in Marrakesh

2006-08-02T05:41:00.000-07:00

Hello to everyone,
If you were wondering where I am, I am in Marrakesh! That is in Morroco, of course, in the centre, in the Mountains. I have been up all night, riding second class with a bunch of loud Morrocans, stopping and starting, coming and going, and trying to sleep sitting up on the train. Yesterday we took the ferry from Spain, gorgeous, just like home, with the wind at the front of the ferry, and a pod of ORCAS!!! In my excitement, I connected with a four year old little boy who was INSANELY excited about going to Morroco and talked non-stop in French to me about everything, while his father, a computer science professor at the University of Toulouse, translated. That was a HOOT!

I just got off the train after a twelve hour ride from Tangers. We, Thomas, Oscar and I, spent a whirlwind tour of the port of Tangiers, which they spell Tanger, with a guide who took us everywhere in the Medina or old medieval, market part of town. The Berber vegetable, fruit and clothing market, where we saw mounds af olives, all kinds, from the olive groves of Morroco, peaches, tomatoes, mint for the "Morroccan Whiskey," ( that is what they call mint tea, because they do not drink alcohol) and clothes, incrediby fancy wedding jelabas, lots of gaudy gold jewellery, embroidered jalabas, caftans, etc. Then he took us to a rug shop, where they served us mint tea and tried to sell us rugs, and then to his friend's restaurant, where we ate couscous, and finally through the narrow winding dirty and smelly streets of the Medina, where the Muslim women giggled at my attire, back to the luggage place, where he got us a taxi, and made sure we got to the train on time! Women love to check each other out, and shop, no matter where you are.

Then a taxi to the train station where there were HUNDREDS of people cued (I use the term loosely) to get on the train. Only second class available. The night was horrendous, as the trip took twelve hours to go six hundred kilometres. That's fifty miles an hour on a TRAIN! Lot's of long stops for people to get on and off, followed by squeezing, pushing, poking, shouting, demanding, apologizing, all in French, for a place in a cabin that seats eight, with men standing outside and children sleeping on the floor! Really remarkable night, never to be forgotten, and never to be repeated! Next time I will find a way to reserve a couchette! We are staying at the Hotel Farouk in Marrakesh, where three of us; me and the two young boys from Sweden and I got a room together for about ten dollars each.

The keyboqrd is Wezird here; so thqt is zhy the a is a q so,eti,es. <i touch type. Thqt is whqt it looks like uncorrected.The keys qll hqve qrqbic symbols, qnd the a is where the q is supposed to be, the w is zhere the z is supposed to be, qnd my brqin is where the sun doesn,t shine>!!! So I go bqck qnd correct it so you can understand.

Before this last three days in Gibraltar and (YES, JESSAMYN ANDKATY, BORN AGAIN CHRISTIANS!!!) So, I got myself saved, again, for good measure. They had a swimming pool!

And then I took the bus to La Linea, across the border from Gibraltar. Someone took pity on me struggling with my huge bag and back pack, dragging it across the border, broken, on the cobblestones. He stopped and took me to the only hostel in town. There I shared a room with five men. That evening, the Gibratrian took me around and showed me the entire country, (the size of Granville Island, with four Christian Churches, a synagogue, and a Mosque, (built by the King of Saudi Arabia.) four beaches, and a City inside the rock that could stand a seige of up to a year during the Second World War, built mostly by Canadians. The English were apparently too busy drinking and fighting to get as much done as the Canadians. And then made me a huge pot of Paella, while I watched the BBC news report on the war between Israel, Hezbollah, and the World! Then I listened as he lamented the demise of his marriage. The next day I hooked up with these two Swedish kids, one a professional break dancer, and the other a musician who is half Canadian. Both spoke excellent English. And together we CLIMBED THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR! It was like being on top of the world, and at the top, while you are looking down at the dots of people on the beach, and Africa across the Straight of Gibraltar, you are being watched by Barbary Apes who are aggressive, wily little bastards, that will steal anything they can get right out of your hands, like a litle girl's ice cream cone, or Thomas's water bottle, or grab the hat right off your head! Or BITE you!

Now I'm listening to Morroccan music in the cafe, a relief after "I'm Slim Shady" for the third time in a row!!

By the way, I stashed all my stuff at a place for backpackers in Algeciras, Spain, called the Lighthouse, so I am finally travelling light, with only a fanny pack with all my valuables, and a back pack that is a small day pack. It is HOT HERE!!! I will tour around Morroco for a while, and then go back to Spain, where I will take the bus to Granada. Then probably back to Barcelona where I will send more stuff home, and then go on to France. After that, when it cools down, I may attempt El Comino del Santiago. After all, I climbed Gibraltar!

Don't worry, I am all right. But thanks for caring about me!

--
May peace prevail.
Shelora

Shelora's Excellent Adventure

2006-07-20T06:19:00.000-07:00

Shelora's Excellent Adventure
I have decided to enjoy myself, so instead of walking El Camino in 90 to 100 degree heat, with a backpack on my untrained back, and hiking boots on my untrained feet, I am going instead to stay at a lovely retreat in Toremelinos, with a swimming pool, and a garden. And a room of my own. Ok, so I'm not twenty three, as I would like to think! And I like my comforts. I don't think I have to suffer to get closer to God. In fact, I think he wants me to be happy, not miserable. So there I am, for a week at least in Torremelinos, near Malaga. Steering my life onward, and expecting miracles.

Shelora's Excellent Adventure

2006-07-20T06:15:00.000-07:00

Shelora's Excellent Adventure
I am still in Barcelona. I have seen the sights, the Sagrada Familia, with its icecream towers, and its puff pastry saints, all carved in stone, waiting for completion in Manana land. I confess I have aquired a huge case of MANANA! The thought of doing El Camino drove me to spend an entire day locating the source of a good backpacking establishment. I went there, and bought myself a good backpack, designed for women. Thank God they had a thirty day return policy. Because when the woman I am staying with came in and asked me when I was leaving to do El Camino, I said NO! The thought of all that WORK, and PAIN and SUFFERING was too much. I took the backpack back, and went to work looking for a quiet location where I can stay and write in Spain. I found it. A Christian retreat in Torremelinos, with a pool, and air condiditoning, and cyber cafes and the beach twenty minutes walk away. Oh yes. All for an incredibly low price of $52.00 per night. Casa Nesca. She is a Dutch woman. She says that there are bulldozers next door, so it can be noisy, but nothing like Barcelona! Here it is constant traffic noise. I have seen the creations of Gaudi, the architect who built Sagrada Familia, and also built the Parc Guell, which was meant to be an enclave for the very rich, overlooking Barcelona. But the rich balked at his avant garde style, and for whatever reason it was not a success, even though the millionaire who funded it was a good friend of Gaudi's. It sounds like he gave up on the rich at that point. At some point in his life, having left his mark on many many buildings in Barcelona, he decided to dedicate himself to completing Sagrada Familia. He sold everything and moved into the Cathedral and slept on the floor. At one point, perhaps in a stupor induced by his visions, or perhaps merely hunger, he stumbled into the pathway of a tram, was hit, and died three days later. A tragedy. Then during the revolution of Franco, the antichurch people destroyed his plans for the church. But someone found a set that had been "forgotten" somewhere, and they are now dilligently working from his plans. It is quite lovely; so is the Park, gorgeous. When I was there I met students staying in a hostel. We hung together for a while, and let me say that Barcelona is VERY LIBERAL about certain activities. It was lovely to be sitting in a parc sharing with young people, openly! And all this to the tune of a lute, and a harp. It really was paradise! But so HOT! Yesterday I went to the top of the Mountain to see the city at night, but the last train was leaving in fifteen minutes so I really didn't see much. I will try again today. The smells and sounds of Barcelona are becoming a part of me. It is the sort of place where you never know what you will smell or see next. I have seen many, many different kinds of dogs, from St. Bernards to muzzled German Shepherds in the Metro, and tiny little toy dogs, and Alsatians, and, well, you get the idea. The two little white Scotties sitting by their master on the sidewalk were a trip. The girls are gorgeous, and EVERYONE wears skirts. NO pants, and very few shorts. Dancing in a disco on my birthday was a blast. I have decided to enjoy myself instead of suffering, so, for now, no El Camino. And for those of you who are curious, yes, I am still travelling alone, and nothing is as I expected, which is exactly what I expected. I have read Paulo Cohelo's "The Pilgrimage" and "The Alchemist" and now I am off on my own pilgrimage with the help of A Course in Miracles, and Rumi! And, of course, God. Via con Dios! Tonight I will eat at the "Spiritual Cafe!" Can you believe that?

Where to next?

2006-07-18T06:04:00.000-07:00

I am on the verge of considering doing El Camino. However, the breeze is lovely here in my luxury apartment, and I don't relish the thought of all that walking! I have spent the morning packing away most of the uneccessary stuff which I will leave here. The rest, on my back in the backpack I will find today. Perhaps I will start with some bus touring. And the advice of Paulo Cohelo. "Somewhere someone is always waiting for the right moment for us to arrive."

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May peace prevail.
Shelora

Shelora's Excellent Adventure

2006-07-14T05:40:00.000-07:00

Shelora's Excellent Adventure

Aboard the train to Stansted airport:
As the train winds its way to Stansted, I have a few moments to reflect on my whirlwind tour of London. Of course, the first thing that stands out is the amount of sheer stuff that I am packing around! So much of my attention has gone to managing it! OK.OK. You warned me. I cut it in half, but it is still Twice as much as I need. I was able to leave a whole wack of it in Left Luggage at Liverpool Station, and spent a good hour there, taking pictures, going to the Internet café (in MacDonald’s!) and generally getting myself situated. I was exhausted from being up all night on the plane, with a lovely young woman who kept me company chatting abuout her plans to buy in Canada with the thirty thousand dollars she had earned being a housekeeper and chauffer to a rich woman in London. Then I had to decide what to do from Gatwick. I met a teacher from Vancouver who teaches at Stratford Hall, which is an International School near Britannia. I decided to take the bus to Stensted, and fly from there to Barcelona the next day. I assumed that I would be able to get into the Travelodge there. No, of course, unlike my lovely daughter, Jessamyn, who was so well organized and planned, I had not booked, and there was no hotle anywhere to be had. The ticket lady quoted me a high price for the ticket, and said it was cheaper on the internet. Off I went to the internet, but first I took a shower in the airport so I could feel like a human being again. Mistake. I should have gone on the internet first. But at a pound for TEN MINUTES, I discovered not only that I could not book online, but that it was going to be MORE expensive. I went back to the ticket agent, and of course, she had gone home. There was nothing to be done except to stay in the airport. I was astonished to see literally hundreds of young people bedded down on the FLOOR of the airport. That held no attraction for me, so I stayed up all night walking around the airport. In the morning the woman said that at midnight the price had DOUBLED!!! I asked her what she suggested, and she said if you have no time pressure, I would wait a few days, and it will go down drastically, if you book on the internet. So I decided to go back into London, and stay a few days. I thought I would be able to stay with my friend Marta in London. Ironically, Marta Stajanova was not available, but I met another woman named Marta in a Youth Hostel. She was a performance artist from Brazil, and we spent the day touring London on double-decker sight-seeing bus. Then we sailed up the Thames to the Tower of London and back on the river boat, and took in a different view of London from the water. The bus went through Mayfair, past Buckingham Palace, and into the richest real estate on the planet, all owned by one man, the Duke of Westminster, the Queen’s cousin. He owns every property in Belgradia and Mayfair and Westminster, billions and billions of dollars worth of real estate. The ironic part is that much of it was clearly empty, five story Georgian Houses waiting for billionaires to rent them!
After the trip around the City of London, past the Temple of Mithras, 2000 years old, over the Tower Bridge, which is actually classified as a boat, because it is a floating bridge, past the Tower of London, where Fitzgerald relative, Anne Boleyn, was beheaded; past the replica of the Globe Theatre, which American actor Sam Wannamaker built, (those rich cultured Jews sure know how to spend their money, eh?) past the City of London School where Daniel Radcliffe, the star of Harry Potter, went to school; past Cleopatra’s needle, which was gifted to London by Egypt after the British prevented Napoleon from invading Egypt during the Napoleonic Wars in 1817, past The Playhouse, where The Rocky Horror Picture Show has been playing forever, past the black and gold railings along the Thames, which Queen Victoria had painted black after her beloved Alfred died, as a sign of her deep mourning; down the street where the Great Fire of London started in the bakery of Thomas Fine, and finally to Picadilly Square, where the Angel of Christian Charity, looking suspiciously like Cupid or Eros, stands guard. The story is that if you fall in love at the stroke of midnight,near this statue, you will stay in love forever. I will have to remember that.
Marta and I got off and had lunch, which we bought in a Starbucks. We ate on a Park bench, while having an amazing conversation about art.She does installation art, combined with dance, and knows someone who trained dance and technology at UC Irvine. His name is Johannes Birringer, and he is a professor at a small University in England. (Probably someone who knows your father, Katy and Jessamyn! These kinds of synchronicities continue to amaze me!) We became so engrossed in conversation about Growtowski, and Polish Theatre, and her installation of a woman dancing, naked in a BATHTUB filled with water, and the artist and theatre director Iadues Kantor, who used to direct on stage as part of the performance, until the day of his death, when they did the show, “Today is my birthday” without him, for the last time. His work was about the interface between life and death, so it was fitting that his last performance was without his presence in physical form.
But enough of that! Today is MY birthday, and I am not dead! I am alive and well and thrilled to be in Barcelona!
I am situated in an absolutely lovely apartment, with a view of Sagrada Familia, the famous unfinished cathedral started a hundred years ago by Gaudi. I have a lovely room with a terrace, and internet access! I share the apartment with a woman of my age who makes her living renting out rooms in huge apartments which she owns. She speaks no English at all, but the lovely young Ana who hooked me up with this place speaks English, and arranged everything. Today I will go to Sagrada Familia, and to the Cathedral, and I will have a lovely day. This evening I will go dancing at Emperitor. I am reading The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho. Really fascinating stuff, and just right for the contemplative mood I am in as I prepare to shed all the accoutrements I have brought with me, and put them in storage, and pare down to the essentials, to begin my real pilgrimage, El Camino De Santiago (Saint James) de Compostella. (which means the Field of Stars!). I am thinking of all of you. Wish me well on my adventure.