Truth

If you want the life you have, don’t date a mystic woman.

A mystic woman is a wild creature. She spends all her life seeking, for there is nothing else worth doing. She peers and gazes until she falls from the edge of the world, and into the next. Over and over. Each time she returns, she is a little different. What she sees must change her. She dies every moment. She is reborn every day. Can you even begin to fathom the terror and the faith commanded from such a being? Can you even begin to understand what such a life can do?

If you want the life you have, don’t date a mystic woman..

If you are comfortable and cozy, stay away. Whatever you have built around yourself to create comfort: it cannot stand in the blazing fire of a mystical woman. She is no trophy. She is no bodily pleasure-maker. She is the seer of souls. She is the womb that births the divine into the flesh and bone of matter. She doesn’t mean to burn your village to the ground, but she has seen what you are meant to become. You are not a peasant shearing sheep, as you have thought. You are a king dressed in rags who has amnesia.

If you want the life you have, don’t date a mystic woman.

If she touches you, and all the voices on the wind go silent, if you feel you are in a snow globe when you embrace her, she is your destroyer. She will destroy the false idol you see in the mirror. She will smash it open because it is your prison. If you wish to stay there, she will shatter you another way. She will leave.

If you want the life you have, don’t date a mystic woman.

Everybody wants the magic, but nobody wants the Mystery, the schooling: a thing that must be lived in a place where book knowledge has no meaning, for all books are manuals to the world you already know. That means, the well-honed intellect — the masculine theory of reason — will not save you, cannot free you. It is for a world whose time is over. The Mystery, by its very nature, must show you what has never been seen, never been written, never been known, because before you were forged, it was impossible. The arts of women have been called the dark arts for too long, and they are the keys to infinity. Infinite form. Infinite being. Infinite life.

If you want the life you have, don’t date a mystic woman.

If your dreams are not filled with the Mystery, you are better off with a normal life, because she will see things that are invisible to you. She will feel things that you cannot feel beneath the layers of numbness you have wrapped yourself in. She will call upon your true self, your real soul, and she will sing it down into you, into herself and life will open up, for this very moment...

Alison Nappi

Smashing

The small geode in this picture is the only unbroken one I still have.

As a child, my cousins and I would spend summer days prowling the Des Moines river and streams around Bonaparte, Iowa for geodes, littering the banks with the broken flotsam of 'duds' and carrying our crystal treasures up the hill to Grandmas house as if we had struck gold.

Those were happy times, but not all of my childhood was like that. Over the past couple of weeks I have been doing energy work and guided meditations -  focusing, working very hard to find and remove blockages that are preventing me from manifesting the life I want and the abundance I need to live it.

Not surprisingly, in hindsight, I found something in my very early childhood that I have always known of without realizing the deep rooted effect it has had on me. Without going into boring details, because of this, I have always had deeply imprinted feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem, which simply means that, in spite of all the mechanisms I have developed to compensate, I have never really believed I deserve to have the things, or the life I've dreamed of.

Don't get me wrong. I love my life now. I live in a place I never want to leave. I have made wonderful friends and met someone I believe will be important to me for a very long time; and I got here by following my heart and intuitions. I didn't always know - heck, I never knew - what the actual reasons for those intuitions were, but I've learned, especially over the past few years, to listen closely and act on them when appropriate.

Lately they've been telling me I've got this, and to begin to pay attention to anything pointing me in the direction of living the life I want with the freedom I need to be happy. I had never heard of abundance blocks before, but that's now in the past. I've since learned what mine are, how to take consistent action to get rid of them, and I think I've made good progress over the past week or so - but I've been hammering on it and thinking about it way too much! So I decided this weekend I wasn't gonna think about it....you know, let it go, and I was, until this morning when I got out of bed.

This little geode has always been kept with my other altar stones, unbroken, as a symbol of the earth and it's unseen mysteries.

Until this morning, I had never given thought to breaking it. Suddenly, out of the blue, it is now a symbol of the negative energies of my childhood and I know it is time to release them. As a symbol of earth abundance and prosperity, intuition also tells me that breaking it will symbolically release those abundance blocks.

Even with all that certainty, I was still amazed to find the perfect stone for this particular ritual waiting at the foot of the stairs to my apartment. I'd never noticed it before, except to note that the most amazing smelling pineapple chamomile grows around it all summer.

The geode was solid and took four good whacks before it broke. The pieces flew and I had to search through dead leaves to find them. When I did, I felt that I wasn't done yet, so I hit the larger piece again, twice, and it relented.

My effort revealed pure white quartz druzy that sparkles in the sunshine, bright as today's new snow - so beautiful....so, has anything changed?

Well....I feel lighter; and I feel happy that there was crystal inside and not dust, as if that is a good omen.

As kids, my cousins and I opened many geodes of all sizes and found iron dust or dirt instead of the coveted crystals, so after holding on to this little gem for so many years in honor of its mystery, I feel honored to be moved to release the negativity it held for me and reveal its beauty today.

I won't keep the pieces as that energy is no longer mine. Tonight's waning moon will take it with her and the stone is given back to the earth.

Now it's time to make some lists and get to work.....

Namaste

Dating and Quantum Theory

What does being conscious mean to you? I saw this question on a dating site and thought ok, really? Well, that’s a good question. Don’t get me started….  too late.

According to various dictionaries, consciousness is the state of being physically awake and aware of your surroundings. Ok. Awake and aware of which surroundings? The chair you’re sitting in? The car you’re driving? That sweet Harley and rider scooting down main street? The pile of dirty laundry on the floor? The shenanigans down at city hall? The activities of your family and friends? Your connection to the universe?

What?! Wait. Whoa now! My connection with the universe? You mean with God? My religion?

Well, sort of. More God, I think, than religion. Most western religions were created for political reasons and aren’t aware of much in my opinion. But the way I understand God, by whatever name you call her, she is the life force of the universe, also known as Source or the ALL and lots of other names besides.

Ok, so with that said, follow me and hold on tight because I’m goin’ off the ranch and right into the Fire Swamp! 

All matter, including you and me and the ROUS’s, is made up of atomic structures. Some of these structures are fairly familiar to most of us, i.e. atoms with their basic protons and electrons, positive and negative charges etc. Science knows pretty well what most solid matter is made up of, and we know that those spinning electrons and such make all matter vibrate at one frequency or another. The atoms that make up denser stuff like rocks vibrate more slowly, while those that make up, say you or me, vibrate more quickly. Heat intensifies vibration and cold slows it down. Pretty basic stuff right?

Right. So, some other tiny bits of the universal fabric are less well known, quarks, neutrinos and such and this is way oversimplified but neutrinos make up torsion fields, torsion fields are subject to spin theory (means they can be manipulated) and it gets really technical from there. But you, my friend, may actually be familiar with torsion fields, because they are generally equivalent to the ‘ether’ or ‘aether’ studied and postulated upon by none other than Plato and Aristotle, among other more recent postulators. 

Of course ancient Greek philosophers didn’t have the capability to physically study quantum parts, but they did come to the logical (and since well-studied) conclusion that something fills the spaces in solid matter. Atoms and molecules vibrate but they don’t move through space. The Ether describes the energy/information bearing ‘magic pixie dust’ that fills the spaces between all those vibrating atoms and their parts. More specifically, ether carries information, not mass, which is what makes it very difficult to study. 

My own K.I.S.S. (um, Keep It Simple Stupid) theory is that ether simply carries information relative to the area or physical structure whose spaces it occupies. So anyway….

Native Americans knew this. The Celts of pre-Christian Wales and the Druids knew this. I’m sure other ancient civilizations knew this also. What they knew/know is that all things are alive, even rocks; because ether is the connection of all things to all other things - ultimate consciousness. Now I’m not saying that a rock is physically aware or can think, but each type of crystal matrix does produce its own energy that can often be physically felt. The vibrational frequencies of specific crystals are known and whether one uses a crystal for a specific purpose or simply admires it for its awesome beauty, it has its own power.

Have you ever touched a tree and felt its life force? What you feel is the vibration of the physical molecular structure of the tree plus the living ether that moves through it into your hand when you touch it. Again, it is in everything, in us. Even when the tree dies, the physical parts continue to vibrate, more slowly, and with help from other tiny living creatures, breaks down the molecules of the tree into the living loam of the forest floor. Energy cannot be destroyed, only changed. 

I believe that cycle, that particular energy in its purest form comes from source. It is the interconnectedness of all things, all life, the power of nature and, I think, the reason we as human beings are drawn to nature. The living forests, mountains, oceans, rivers, deserts, plains and wildlife are part of us far more than the (also vibrating and ether filled) concrete jungles in which many of us live.

As for dating, on a smaller scale, as with everything else, each of us vibrates at our own specific frequency, and maybe with exceptions, no other person shares your exact vibrational frequency. Finding the ones or the one who matches it closely is how we choose our tribe or our partner - and often why relationships can be so weird; but if you think about it, when you meet someone - anyone - and your vibration and theirs are similar, according to my theory of consciousness, that means something, and you're going to mean something to each other. 

And that, my friends, is what being conscious means to me. It is being connected to source and grounded by science. It is also quite possibly the reason I seldom date. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go polish the chrome on my motorcycle.  Somewhere in the trees I missed a fire spout pop and got singed a bit. Cheers!

Here to Stay

So I'm living in Pinedale, Wyoming, a town that it is almost impossible to simply stumble across unless you happen to be on the way to Jackson via Rock Springs. My being here is the poster child for 'things are not always as they seem' but it's a small town. I know people do love to gossip and in the absence of facts they will make shit up as they see fit. So they talk behind their hands and clam up when I walk in.... Why is she here? I heard she's stalking him? She doesn't seem the type....  well I heard.....

And I suppose that's fair. I hear the same shit, know how things must look, and quite honestly, the reality is nowhere near simple. I really don't feel the need to explain any of it; but I find it's often good to just write. And since this is MY Fire Swamp, and I am your host, and you are my guest.... sit back if you're interested, chillax and watch out for the flame spurts and lightning sand. Here is my story.

Maybe you have met someone out of the blue who has had a profound, unexplainable, unbreakable, catlystic influence in your life and maybe you haven't. I have. I won't try to explain it here because I can't and I never could. Maybe it doesn't have to be anything but a catalyst. I have no idea what it means, but it is mutual, unexplored and unresolved. Maybe it always will be, but I have no regrets. I am where I am supposed to be. I just really don't know why yet.... 

When I left Invermere, BC after my first divorce in 1997, with my 4-year-old daughter, hauling a ten foot UHaul trailer behind a Ford Escort, headed for Waukee, IA, I knew I'd be back west, in the mountains, one day. I didn't know how or where or under what circumstances, but I had no doubt. My time in Canada was over, though.The ranges of SW BC are stunning, and Invermere/Windermere/Radium Hot Springs are wonderful, but moving back would require a job to be waiting for me....or I'd have to marry a Canadian, which didn't work out well the first time, so, no. I do have some very dear friends there, though, that I miss more than they know.

This post will jump around a bit, so if you're still reading, bear with me..... there are other places I've thought about moving to over the years. I've always loved the Black Hills and the Big Horn country of Wyoming. The Kalispell area of Montana around Glacier Park and the park itself is incredible, and as much appeal as they had for me, they were never places I wanted to stay in, to live in. They are beautiful and sacred, but they just didn't speak to my soul that way.

The summer of 1990 I drove up to Glacier Park and back via Cheyenne and the eastern slope of the Bighorns, knowing there are mountains farther west that I've never seen and wondering what was out there besides Utah, Yellowstone Park and the Tetons. It seemed silly at the time, but as I drove east towards Cheyenne, checking the rear view, I felt strongly that one day I would know. It wasn't something I thought about again, really, until last night when I was having dinner with a friend and remembered that 'knowing' during our conversation.

I have those now and then. I call them 'knowings' because they come out of nowhere and are crystal clear - not as to their meaning necessarily - but clear as in they ring of truth. And yes, I've been completely convinced I've gone round the bend sometimes for giving them credence, but as I live, that one was real and I'm here now.
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Facebook is a dangerous place. So many people and so many interactions that may or may not mean diddly. I have met some wonderful people online who I  enjoy seeing and interacting with. Those that I don't enjoy seeing or interacting with, well that's simple enough to fix.

About five years ago, I met a man online, out of the thousands of people there, who despite all my efforts at reason, denial and logic, became someone who has been very important to me. I say 'met', but it would be more accurate to say 'recognized'. I can't explain the connection any other way. I've met hundreds of men online and....nothing. So, we flirted briefly at first, but somehow the connection became.....more, and as hard as I tried to ignore it and let it go, over months and then years, it's never really changed. Neither of us encouraged it for many reasons.  Well, to be honest, I did push a bit, later on, because I believe in facing situations, fears, whatever; dealing with them. But I digress.

When we met back then, I was at a place in my life where I'd begun to feel stagnant. I couldn't see how to move forward from where I was - married to a good man who liked life the way it was and was content to live that way for the rest of our lives. Quite honestly, now that the kids were grown and flown, that terrified me. I had projects and friends, but I had become bored and unhappy, and now I think that I met this man, recognized this spirit, at that time because it was time for me to begin to wake up, to do something about it, to listen to my soul and follow my destiny. Oh, and by the way, he lived in, of all places, some podunk town called Pinedale, Wyoming.
 
My spirit has always been restless, a gypsy in need of adventure, challenges - growth, and at this point I'd been settled down longer than I had ever been. I had always wanted to learn to ride a motorcycle, so I discovered that joy at age 50 and for a while my husband and I had something in common again. We  took a bike vacation to the Black Hills in 2012. I had hoped that trip would rekindle the spark and help us find some common ground to save the marriage. It didn't. It broke my heart but I had to tell him I was leaving soon after.

So somehow this person that I hardly knew had made me feel my heart again, and more than almost anything, I wanted to meet him. Needed to. The summer after my divorce I took a 3-week dream bike trip. First  I headed up to British Columbia to see my wonderful friends and my daughter, who was there for her dad's wedding. It was an amazing, fun and relaxing week - very healing; and then I was off to Montana.

He and I met on the side of the highway south of Livingston, and it was a long time coming. He was exactly as I knew he would be, but the energy was confusing, much like a dream. I often wonder what would have happened had I not crashed on Beartooth Highway that evening, just outside of Cooke City, and landed in the hospital at Cody for three days, all banged up with my arms hamburgered. He was wonderful and went far out of his way to stay and take care of everything I couldn't, so I could get home. That's just who he is, how and where he was raised. What kind of place must that be? I would have to wait another year to find out.
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Fast forward to July 23 2014. I was back in Montana to ride Beartooth Highway, to face the crash demons and my fear. It was an awesome ride on a true spirit day. After, I rode south through Yellowstone and Teton Parks, through Jackson, Hoback Canyon and Pinedale, where I planned to stay for a few days, spend some time with my friend and explore. My spirit was open as I rode those last few miles - exhausted. I had pulled out of Red Lodge about 9am and it was getting late now after twelve plus hours on the bike. As I rode past the last overlook and saw Pinedale laid out at the base of the Windriver mountains glowing in the last rays of that day's sunlight, my heart moved in my chest and spoke to my soul. I was home. That was about all I knew right then except that I was more than ready to get out of the saddle and relax.

Six days later, riding south and east, back toward Des Moines, I knew I would be back. Again, I didn't know how or when or under what circumstances. Then in late February 2015 I was downsized from my job of six years at ADP. It wasn't really a surprise, and I had been actively looking for another position with the company, either at the Salt Lake City office or remote, with no success.

After the initial disorientation, I quickly realized that I was now free to go where ever I wanted. I felt liberated, but I knew I had some serious and difficult decisions to make. So my 2nd week of unemployment was spent in deep soul searching; the 3rd began with building a new resume and by Saturday, with incredibly little effort, I had landed a job and an affordable apartment and had committed to arriving to start work at the newspaper on March 30th. When the time is right, the pieces fall together and lord I had to move fast!

So when people learn that I know this man and we have 'a history', they assume I came here to pursue him, I didn't. I came here for me.

Yes, I love him and I always will, but in a spiritual sense. Otherwise I've learned that I really don't even like him very much anymore; I also know that after all these years some things won't change, so I have had to learn to change the way I deal with them.

But much more important than all that is that I've found that people here look out for each other. There are support networks built in to the social fabric for those who have no family or other support available. Maybe other small towns have this too, but it seems unique and special to me. I have found the values that I expected to find here. I'm happy and have had opportunities to do things here that I would have never had maybe anywhere else. So far I have volunteered backstage at a professional theater production, and I've been out sage grouse hunting with falcons.....who knew? Funny how that works, it's all GOOD.

So, at the end of the day,  I believe I've been directed here for a reason; and that reason may or may not have anything at all to do with him. If it's about the connection, then both of us have to face it and want to resolve it. He's not there and I'm not holding my breath. I have much better things to do, as well as a deep faith that whatever the reason is, it can't be forced or stopped; and if the time comes when I need to do something different, I will cross that bridge then.

In the meantime, there is no place else I'd rather be than Pinedale, Wyoming. I love it here, have met some truly wonderful people and will continue to build my life and relationships here, do my best to make good decisions and be true to myself.

Namaste

Prosopagnosia

Last weekend I went for a beer a few blocks from home after I got off work. I walked in and sat down at the bar a couple of stools down from a fairly large man who looked sort of familiar but I was tired and I figured, well I don't know many people in Pinedale yet so no big deal. Anyway, after a while and some general chatting with the bartender and others there, someone said his full name and I did a mental facepalm! He is a riding buddy of a friend I stayed with last summer when I visited here. I met him in a group my first night in town. In my defense, it has been a year since then, and I'm not entirely sure he recognized me, but he is, or should be, pretty recognizable and this kind of thing happens to me all the time.

I have a genetic condition called prosopagnosia, or "face blindness". I lack the 'survival' instinct to recall faces well and clearly; and while it is a relief to know it is a real disorder and not a personality flaw, it has caused me a lot of embarrassment as well as social and professional difficulties.

My case is mild to intermediate and the gist of the effect is that many faces tend to 'blend', meaning one will seem to me to look very much like another until I get to know someone well. If they look much like someone else I am only briefly acquainted with, say they have similar hairstyles and/or coloring or something, I've been known to confuse the two until one becomes clear or I can see them together. On the other hand, when there is something apparent and unique about a new acquaintance's appearance or demeanor, or if I feel an immediate connection with them, this doesn't apply, so I tend to navigate by feel until I can get sorted to the point where faces are part of my memory.

I became aware of the existence of this condition in 2006 when I read a short article in Time Magazine about prosopagnosia here. I was completely floored because I had always thought that somehow my inability to recognize faces and the ensuing difficulties was some kind of personality flaw - and somehow my fault. I knew it wasn't normal and people who said things like "I never forget a face" were absolutely mysterious to me - I could not - and cannot now, imagine having that ability.

I have done all the masking behaviors, like tending to avoid places where I might run into someone. Social gatherings where I know I might see acquaintances that I won't recognize can still be stressful. I will act friendly to everyone or to no one (depending on where I am and/or my mood at the time), or I will pretend to be lost in thought or concentrating very hard on what I'm doing or reading.

Prosopagnosia affects about one in fifty people and is often inherited. I believe my father has it as well. All his life, he has avoided social situations where he doesn't know more than a couple of people well. Drove Mom crazy sometimes when they would go out together. Thing is, if they had known, she would have known to simply remind him quietly of the names of the people he didn't recall; then he could have relaxed and enjoyed himself more.

And I totally understand that stress. I have had entire conversations with someone I've just met, for example, at the pool; then I will see that same person at the grocery store two days later and am not able to recall them. They look 'familiar', but not in a way that I associate directly with the person I met two days ago - unless there is something distinctive or unusual about one or more of their features, their voice, or some other aspect of their manner or appearance. I can remember what we talked about, how I felt, everything but their face.

The puzzled looks from acquaintances over the years still haunt me at times, because usually I realize later who it was and know that they were "out of context" from when I met them. Then of course, I feel awful about not being able to remember, but by then, they already think I'm horribly lazy, rude or anti-social.

It's very disorienting and upsetting. It's even happened with people that I used to see a couple times a week, but have not seen for several months. Someone will say hello to me by name in the checkout line or at a party and I'll pretend to remember, hoping that some specific recognition will come to me, but it seldom does until it's too late. In these cases the person will again seem vaguely familiar, but I am completely at a loss to place them - they are "out of context".

Prosopagnosia adds a particularly challenging layer to relocating from the city. As a genetic disorder it cannot be 'cured', but I have been trying to overcome it best I can since I learned it existed. I've recently moved from Des Moines, Iowa, to Pinedale, Wyoming, which is a community small enough for pretty much everyone to know everyone who has been here for a while, if not by name then by reputation.

I love it. My spirit is happy here. It's been two and a half months now, and although I do miss my friends back east, I have met some truly wonderful and unique people here.  The reality of not being able to escape into the anonymity of the city is more apparent all the time; it forces me out of myself and into the moment, and as I begin to make friends and build relationships, I am finding that to be extremely healing....and sometimes more than a little frightening.

So if you have read this and we've met, and you get the feeling when we meet again that something isn't right; I hope that you will remind me and will be very grateful if you do.

And maybe, if you've read this far and checked out the linked article, you have begun to find some of the answers you've been looking for.

Namaste

For My Friends and Family Who Ask Me Why I Ride...

You're on vacation in an incredibly beautiful place - for me it's the mountains, or maybe an ocean/tropical island panorama....you are moved to take pictures - maybe a LOT of pictures. You think you've never seen anything so gorgeous and you want to take it home and keep this moment forever. Then, when you get home and look at all those pictures, something important is missing and you have to rely on memory to recall what it is. The essence of the experience, the part that touched your soul, simply cannot be described or captured in a photograph.

Riding a motorcycle is like that. I'm a relatively new rider (~7k miles in ~17 months) and am asked often by family and friends who don't ride - what is the fascination? Why do you love this so much? and now, after totaling your motorcycle last weekend (I'm fine, btw), why must you ride again? All I can really tell them is that it's part of me, and I don't expect them to understand. Describing the essence of what it's like to ride really is impossible...but I'm going to try.  Here goes.

First, what riding is not: It is NOT about bad boys, bad girls, mid-life crisis or attitude. Well okay, yes, there IS an attitude - a certain confidence, that comes uniquely from the riding experience. Riders don't look down on non-riders, we simply understand that they don't understand, and we gravitate to other riders because they do. Most of us have loving family, spouses and/or friends who don't ride and we're great with that. The bad boy/girl stereotypes really need to die. Most bikers are the best people, family oriented, true friends, professionals, veterans, housewives, people who support their communities and charities of choice regularly...and as for mid-life 'crises', well mid life is not a crisis. Middle school is a crisis. Age is only a number and riders come in all ages. Besides, my thought is this: isn't mid life about the time you've actually learned enough to know how you want to spend the rest of your life?

Riding is about spirit. It's about living life and the freedom of the road stretching out in front of you; it's the curiosity for what is around the next curve or over the next hill or in the next town. It is working hard and playing hard and feeling strong and at peace with the universe. It is 'getting' what you can change and what you can't, accepting people as they are and choosing friends and battles carefully. Reality is always present. It is about experiencing the elements and focusing on the moment. It honors the independent spirit and teaches us to live life to the fullest. Maybe most importantly, it shows us that even with all of our differences, as bikers, because we share this, we are brothers and sisters. Overall, it may be the single most spiritual activity you can participate in with your clothes on.

Anyone who has experienced success in life knows that anything of value involves risk. In riding, an error in judgement, a mechanical failure, a lapse of focus at the wrong moment or a tangle with another vehicle - even a minor one, can be catastrophic. In life, it's the same, just on a different stage. All accidents/failures are a learning experience of some kind, and any accident or failure that you can walk away from is a gift. If you don't learn something from your accidents/failures, you definitely shouldn't be riding.

So, like those somewhat disappointing vacation pictures, I've been moved to make the attempt to capture something beautiful. The essence of riding lives in the soul, and if I've left anything out, this is my own experience only - I welcome any comments or insights. Some of you might have noticed that I don't mention any specific brand of bike. As individual riders, our choice of bike is as unique as we are and is part of each rider's experience. For myself, I'd be over the moon right now just to have one to ride, and I WILL figure out a way to get back on two wheels.

Ghostly Reflections

1. How old do you think you'll be when you die?
As old as I will get

2. How will you die?
Um...dead.

3. What will your last words be?
Oh shit!

4. What will your epitaph read?
Am I there yet?

5. Any parts of your body you wouldn't donate?
My knees. Who would want them?

6. What song will be played at your funeral?
Freewill by Rush

7. Cremated, buried or "other"?
Cremated. Ashes scattered from the summit of Harney Peak in the Black Hills.

8. If you could take one thing with you to the "next life", what would it be?
All I need is love

9. If you could take one person with you, whether they like it or not, who would it be?
I would never...

10. Supposing they existed, do you think you'd end up in heaven or hell?
My vision of heaven...with no pain, fear, care or worry, a stopover after purgatory and before the next life...but no angels sitting about on clouds, pearly gates or saints...much too boring.

11. If you could haunt any one place, where would it be?
Black Hills

12. If you could haunt any one person, who would it be?
Hayley

13. What type of ghost would you be?
Beautiful invisible

14. You've been given the chance to send one message back to the land of the living. What does it say?
Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty

Some Thoughts on the Number 13

On Friday the 13th, I thought it would be fun to blog about the number 13. The poor thing has so many negative connotations in popular culture. Maybe people simply are not aware of its prominence in nature. Nature, of course, encompasses the balance of positive and negative forces, so what is the opposite of thirteen anyway? That's a subject for another blog!
The number thirteen is the first two digit Fibonacci number. The Fibonacci number sequence begins 0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21...., etc., and continues by adding the previous two numbers together ad infinitum. In nature, particularly in biology, these numbers appear prominently and almost exclusively. Everything from patterns of animal reproduction to leaf development on plants to the spiral patterns on a pinecone or a seashell can be described by using this seqence of numbers. It is extremely unusual for a flower to have 4, 6, 10, 11 or 12 petals, for example. For more information check out: http://britton.disted.camosun.bc.ca/fibslide/jbfibslide.htm

There are thirteen lunar months in a year plus one day. Native north american indian calendars were based on the thirteen scales on the shell of an ancient turtle. In their mythology, the turtle represents the Earth Mother who taught them to mark the passing of time by the moon. Lots more at: http://www.13moon.com

According to the Torah, God has thirteen attributes of mercy. Thirteen was also once associated with the visit of child Jesus by the Magi (on the thirteenth day of his life).

And finally, although by no means all, the number thirteen Tarot card is the 'Death' card. When tarot is read, however, that card is generally interpreted not as death, but as change. Change can be bad or change can be good, but life is always what you make it!

Happy Friday the 13th!