By Catherine Viel, July 23, 2023
(Golden Age of Gaia)
July 22, 2023
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory, Hallelujah
~Traditional Spiritual
Every time the much-beleaguered cat is afflicted with a new digestive upset…every time a tiff with a family member darkens the atmosphere…every time the bodily discomfort ratchets up…and especially when all of these happen simultaneously, my wannabe Little Mary Sunshine persona takes a hit.
I thumb through the deck of the usual suspects. Let’s see, is my karma still being “balanced”? Or that of the family member? Maybe we had a mutual soul contract to periodically send each other into an emotional tailspin, even in our aging years.
Do cats have karma?
Or are we suffering for reasons unrelated to our soul choices? I’m of the opinion that, whether or not the dark controllers still have genuine power, their machinations grind remorselessly on, like an automaton with self-perpetuating power. Apparently some Earth situations (like fearful, despairing humans) were designed to create loosh to feed those inimical beings; humanity’s suffering and negative emotions act like a giant battery for this Deeply Light Deficient crew.
It’s hard enough to tolerate suffering when I can imagine it’s doing some “good” (balancing karma, I “chose” it pre-birth). Suffering so that some malevolent creature can snack on my energy is a whole ‘nuther thing.
I suddenly notice that I’m about to get caught in a negative emotional loop. Time to round up Little Mary Sunshine and change the channel.
*****
I give the cat Reiki and medicine and ask the Devas and elementals and fairies, the energetic healing crew, for help. The routine is a bit mechanical. My heart’s not really in it.
What can my heart be in? What is there, out of this quite wretched day, that can bring a glimmer of joy?
I actually think meditation is the only thing that could provide succor. So, in addition to asking for help for distressed feline and human family members, I ask for help to set aside five minutes and shut it all out. Silently repeat a chosen mantra. Peace, perhaps. Joy. Or alternate: breathe in on peace, breathe out with joy.
Perhaps my meditation effort can permanently ward off the onslaught of negativity that hovers in the wings, waiting to slither over me at a vulnerable moment.
I realize I’m hungry. Before that opens the door to hangry, time for lunch, and then I’ll do my best to meditate.
*****
Coda. I don’t set a timer, but sit for what is probably five minutes on the patio. The breeze, the music of the birds, and the moderate heat are noted but not mentally remarked upon. Peace, joy. Peace, joy.
When it seemed done, I opened my eyes and felt…slightly relaxed? More in my right mind? Something other than the previous mental churning, at any rate.
I watch a white butterfly as the thought drifts by: Things are not what they seem. Oh, no? Then what are they? What you want them to be.
Was the white butterfly from Spirit? Was that a message from God? My thoughts seem less staticky after that brief spell of corralling the mind’s spinning and focusing on two pleasant and nicely buzzing words. Peace, joy.
The maybe-from-Spirit message offers a little mystery to ponder, if I wish. Since I don’t wish, I return inside to the ordinary, but somehow brighter, everydayness of my quite mundane life.
