Ramblings about life . . .
What I share about my life is simply to help reinforce the knowledge that it is possible to live with love and laughter, in between the tough times.
Life is what we make of it, no matter how harrowing. We accept and embody this with-in ourselves, thereby allowing the energy to manifest outwardly in our reality.
It starts with each one of us as an individual to form the collective consciousness.
Be the dream.
We honour the light and the life within you.
Please be aware - I upload other bloggers' posts and then delete after a month. This is my journey and others help me understand where I am, until they become irrelevant (a few posts excepted).
Thursday, 23 December 2010
I woke up this morning ready for a fight. Any reason? None whatsoever – I just need to blow off some steam. The changes ahead have me wanting to bury my head in the sand, feel elated, soar with happiness only to crash to the ground with worry. The energy of balance is nowhere in sight – hightailed it out of here at a fast pace.
Lately I can’t help myself so I called on St Germain and Lord Sananda, who have both been my non-physical mentors for years.
Sananda was his usual gentle, supporting, loving self but St Germain...well, what can I say? Anyone who knows him will understand when I tell you this. He is the one that stops me getting a big head and regularly pulls the rug from underneath me. He maintains I gave him permission to do this. I suppose I must have in one of my weaker moments. He also maintains that most of the time the rug is pulled out from underneath me by me as when I get big headed I topple over. Nothing to do with him. Hmmm...
So what? Today I don’t want to accept responsibility for anything. I want to wallow and blame everyone and everything else. The more I protest the more he grins at me. Aaargh, he sure knows how to push my buttons. Do you think I could deck him with one punch?
My inner tiger is growling and flexing her claws. Maybe I could take on the wolves? Hah, what an idea. The two posturing males downstairs could do with a bit of smacking around to bring them into line. Who better to do it than a female?
Now before you feel sorry for them, well, maybe you can feel sorry for our son, but not hubby – he gives as good as he gets, although I might take him by surprise. The two of us will have a rip roaring fight, while our son retreats, learns a lesson never to cross a furious woman and how to handle the situation from his dad.
Claws out I stalk downstairs in anticipation of the fight...or is it the anticipation of making up, which is so much sweeter.
Fight! - to read comments on LW