The art of regaining balance

Karma – the need to rebalance energies made imbalanced through the addition of or removal (abrogation) of another’s life choices without their permission.

Sometimes the balancing a karmic debt can be very emotional and drama-filled. Because of this, it can take most of a lifetime to balance one instance of karma. Other times it can simply take a couple of astral meetings to work things out.

The amount of difficulty is driven by the age of the souls involved, and by their acceptance or reluctance to put things “right”.

In this lifetime, I had one instance where, while I was willing to put things “right”, the other person wasn’t so enthusiastic about it. [See Karma and the Essence Twin] I’ve also had one where both of us were willing and the re-establishing of balance entailed me to merely invite the person into my home. [See The Diary of Annabelle Lee for the story of what caused the karma.]

But the easiest rebalancing of all was the karma I incurred from my past as a Japanese business man, circa 1650. I was fiercely competitive, as was my main rival. But the strangest part was that we actually enjoyed the competition, and both of us thrived on it, as did our relationship. We developed a camaraderie based on our rivalry with one another and we relished the ability to shock the other with our daring. Every day we strove to find ways to steal the other’s best customers, or find another (better) way of marketing our goods.

However, as the years progressed, the competition somehow got the best of us, especially when the economy began to dip. I found a way to manipulate my competitor’s son into making a bad deal for his father’s shop, and in shame, his father killed himself. That left the company vulnerable, and I bought it, paying less than it was worth. But what I learned that day was that although I had made a great deal on a company, I had no one to share it with; I had no one to gloat with. It wasn’t the competition I had loved so much, but the friend I’d had to share it with.

In this life, I met my rival when I joined the company where he worked. We were friendly, enjoyed working on projects together, and even enjoyed the same type of humor and similar pastimes (books, music, and movies). However, there was a certain lack of trust between us that we both felt, but couldn’t seem to overcome.

In an effort to get it resolved, we both went out at lunch time and did a meditation by the nearby lake. Meeting on the astral levels, we recognized the issues immediately. Our past was getting in the way of our present, and because of what I had one then, we were both having a difficult time creating that trust that we wanted.

We met several more times and each time we recognized the changes in each other and ourselves. While I had hurt him then, I was no longer that person, just as he was no longer Aio Ito, my Japanese competitor and the man I had shamed with my manipulations.

We were both more than those people now; we had grown and changed, and in that changing we had learned. We had learned that while competition can be fun, friendship means more, much more. Winning his company from his family hadn’t been fun because he had no longer been there. The fun had come from the rivalry we shared.

It might seem an odd type of relationship to most people, but still it was a friendship. Winning wasn’t the point of it; sharing the triumphs and the defeats with each other had been the point.

Once we recognized and acknowledged the truth of all of that, we found we could trust one another again. Now we had an even stronger friendship than when we had been rivals in Japan.

We had both learned that friendship was the key, not competition, not winning, not things. No object in this world would ever be worth as much as the friendship we rediscovered and rebuilt. And it’s something that each of us should always remember, in every life we live—without friendship, no one wins.


Meeting myself

Once upon a time, about 25 years ago, I met myself – or one version of me, anyway.

I was in the midst of writing my first novel, while working a regular 9 to 5 job, and I was excited. I was sure that the story was great and that everyone would love it. (Personally, I feel that way about most everything I write.;-)

Although, the book was only about half done, I started sending out letters to agents (I had heard you needed an agent to get a publisher to look at your manuscript, so I figured “why not get a head start on that”. One of the agents I wrote to actually wrote back and said they liked the story synopsis I had included, so we arranged a meeting.

The day of the meeting, I took a train into the city. It was later in the morning, so the train wasn’t overly crowded—not like rush hour. The gal sitting across the aisle from me struck up a conversation. She was excited because her first novel had just been purchased and she was going to meet with her agent. The serendipity of it hit me right away, but I didn’t comment on it. Instead, I asked her what her novel was about.

As she described her story, my eyes grew wider, and she mistook my surprise as awe.

“…I know, it’s a great story isn’t it?” she finished.

I nodded; how could I not? It was a great story; it was my story. It was the story I had been working on for nearly a year. It was the story I was supposed to discuss with the agent in the city.

Now it was more than just serendipity, it was downright bizarre.

We were just starting to pull into the station downtown, and I realized that I didn’t know her name. Still smiling, she answered me when I asked and even spelled the middle name since it was just slightly different than normal. We shook hands, and off she went, excited, bubbly, and completely unaware of how she had just completely changed my day (and my life).

I sat back down in my seat, and tried to put it together. My name, my story, same city, … what were the odds? I never went to my meeting. I took the train back home where I bundled up the diskettes with the story on it and put them in a file cabinet.

Oh, I didn’t stop writing – in fact, I’ve written two other novels and several non-fiction books. However, I decided that that particular story, well, that was HER story. So, I put it away and haven’t looked at my version since. (I have read her version of it, though.)

For some reason, I had crossed paths with one of my other selves – the one who chose to be a published novelist. I’m not sure why we crossed paths, maybe it was because I hadn’t let go of the path she was already on; maybe I had to understand that one version of me was already pursuing the path of novelist and that my path went in a different direction.

I’m still a writer, although not a novelist who makes a living from her book sales. I’m a writer of technical documentation and how-to’s, a blog, and several self-published books. And although it was hard at first, I’m now okay with my path; after all, one of me writing and publishing novels in this reality is probably all the world can handle. 😉

We are defined by our choices, not abilities

“It isn’t our abilities that define us, but rather is it our choices.”

That quote from the Harry Potter novels is the epitome of life. Each of us is the sum of our choices, not the sum of our abilities. It doesn’t really matter if you can speak 5 languages if you choose to use that ability to insult and offend everyone you meet.

Most of us are born with some innate talent or ability for something. For some, the ability is very obvious, such as someone who is a violin virtuoso or a brilliant cartoonist. For others, the ability may be more subtle, perhaps you’re a brilliant analyst, superb leader, or empathic humanitarian. However, none of those abilities are worth as much as the choices you make about how you will approach and use those abilities.

Let’s take someone with a marvelous ability to play the piano. Perhaps they demonstrated a unique aptitude when they were still a child so the parents got them the best teachers and had them practicing for hours a day. Now, as an adult they’ve decided they no longer like the piano, so they choose to ignore it. Instead, they have chosen to pursue a career in business. Or perhaps they decided that it was simply the structure and lessons that they disliked, so they continue to play, but only for the sick kids at the hospital.

See, choices…that’s what really defines us.

Okay, let’s look at someone with one of those more subtle abilities. This person has great leadership abilities. Everyone turns to them when they need advice, or when they need someone to take charge of a project. This person can accept this and use their talent to move things ahead; they can choose to slough it off and refuse to lead or offer advice when asked; or they can choose to use their leadership ability to better themselves at the cost of anyone and everyone else.

Several years back I met a young man who had an uncanny ability for healing. Not the medical doctor type of healing, but the type of stuff referred to as “faith healing”, “energy healers”, or “spiritual healers”. He could use the energies in his and your auras to fix your physical, mental, or spiritual body. However, he preferred not to. Yep, he’d been aware of this ability of his since he was a child, but as he grew up and found that people like him were considered rather fringe, on the edge, or just plain kooks, he chose not to follow that path.

Of course, he’s always willing to help his friends despite the risk of being branded a kook (he used his ability to heal my back after a car accident), but overall, his focus, his chosen path has had little to do with his abilities as a healer (or so I thought).

This marvelously thoughtful and empathic young man went into the business of science and technology. Yet, even though he followed a business career, he always tries to see every side to the issues when making decisions, and his presence always seems to help keep people calm during turbulent situations.

I truly believe that this is because of his healing abilities. Rather than healing individuals, he has chosen to heal situations. He didn’t shut off or ignore his abilities as I originally thought. Instead, he has merely chosen a different way in which to use them.

Rather than performing a “laying on of hands”, he absorbs the atmosphere of the situation and uses his abilities to “heal” any bad feelings, ill will, and awkwardness. He is more than just empathic, because he not only “feels” the situation, but can manipulate it. But he doesn’t manipulate it to suit himself, or to benefit himself or his company. He manipulates the energies to ease the strain, stress, and negativity that would otherwise keep everyone involved from reaching a unified and balanced decision.

Choices, not abilities. His choice is to make the world a bit calmer, a bit more sane, one group at a time. Just as my choice is to spread my perspective of the world one posting at a time.

We all have some ability whether we recognize it or not, but it’s our choices in how we use or don’t use that ability that truly makes us who we are.

So, what choices have made you who you are?


Scuttling Salamanders

I’ve been sitting here watching a baby salamander scampering around the deck as it seeks out insects to eat. It scuttles from point A to point B, its nose to the deck pavement, never looking up, never seeing the small space beyond its own nose.

As I watch it scuttle from one spot to another, I keep thinking that if it would only raise its head up, if it would only look out instead of down, it might have an easier time finding food.

There are several pockets of insects—small ants, flies, and centipedes—scattered across the deck, but with its head pointed down it only sees what it stumbles across, what pops up right in front of it.

Unfortunately, a lot of people I meet are like that, too. They scurry forward, never looking right or left, bent to their tasks and unable to see anything except what is directly before them. But there is so much more to life, if they would only lift their heads and look around. Yet, there they go, nose down, eyes fixed straight ahead, unwilling to buck the status quo, afraid to try anything different.

I know life is about choices, and that if they choose to follow that path of unawareness, then it’s not my place to judge. But still, it saddens me that they can’t even see the beauty around them. That they’re so frightened by everything that they continue to follow the same path every day forever. And it’s probably the same path that their parents/church/school followed, and then taught them to follow.

I want so badly to find a way to shake them up, jar them out of that path (that rut) and make them see the joy and beauty that exists around them. Maybe they bother me so much because they remind of myself and the way I was a while ago.

I had gone to work for a company, and while not great, it was an okay job. But about 3 years into the job, the company was bought out by another. Now the job was no longer just okay, it was horrible. The people I had enjoyed working with either left or were laid off, the tasks I enjoyed doing were taken away, and I was left with my head down following a path I no longer looked at.

With head down, I convinced myself to stay. I gave myself a dozen different reasons for staying, but if you looked at all them closely, they all came down to fear. It took getting laid off to make me recognize how blind I had been, and I swore I would never let myself become that immersed in the fear again.

So now I keep my head up; I look at the world around me, and I watch the path unfold in front of me. I get to see the joy, the beauty, and the love that fill the world around me, and I revel in the knowledge that I might have missed all of that had I continued to hide my head in fear.

But I also see the others, who unlike me, have yet to release their fears; have yet to raise their heads and see the wonders of the world we live in. And I hope that they soon reach a point in their lives that forces them out of their ruts, out of their paths of fear, and onto the path of joy and love.

It’s all in my head

In the last Harry Potter book (The Deathly Hallows), Harry asks Dumbledore, “Is this real? Or has this been happening in my head?”, to which Dumbledore replies, “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it isn’t real?”.

That is exactly what today’s scientists are finally beginning to understand—reality begins in your head. Thought is the main building block of any reality.

Science today is finally recognizing some basic truths regarding thought:

  • Thought is energy
  • Energy impacts matter
  • Our physical reality is comprised of matter
  • Matter is comprised of energy
  • Energy is thought
  • Thoughts create reality

Of course, many of us have realized and understood this basic concept all along. Simply, you are what you think, and so is the world around you. Thought matters.

Have you ever wanted to change your physical appearance—not just through the manipulation of hair dyes or make up, but really change it? Perhaps you want to be taller, or you want your hair to be straight instead of curly. If you focus long and hard enough on it, you can change your reality.

Is it easy? Not really, because physical matter is very obdurate (heavy and unyielding). But it is easier to change your personal reality than say, the global reality. That’s because a global reality is comprised of the energies of everyone participating in it. For instance, we on Earth have all agreed that the sky exists, it is blue, and it spans the globe above us. For one of us to decide that we want the sky to be green rather than blue, and then make it turn that color would be nearly impossible. The amount of focus required to overcome the billions of others energies would pretty much guarantee that the sky remains blue.

However, if you decide that your personal reality needs to change, well, that’s a bit easier. Yes, the matter around you is still heavy and unyielding, but you created your own reality in the first place, and the only one really holding it in place is you. So, if you want to change it, then go for it.

Some parts of your reality are easier to change than others; after all, it only took me about a year to extend my body from 5’3” to 5’4”. Seems silly doesn’t it? Wanting to be an inch taller, yet for 4 years I was 5’3” and everyone said that’s all I would ever be, since at my age (at that time) we were pretty much done growing. But I was supposed to be 5’4”….somehow I KNEW that deep inside. So, I began focusing on that goal, that goal of 5’4”, and soon I was.

It’s much easier to change your path in life than to change your hair from curly to straight, or vice versa, or add inches to your height. After all, to change your path, you merely need to decide where it is you are and where you want to go, and make the path that will get you there. (This is all predicated on the concept that where you think you want to be is also where your spirit thinks you should be. If the essence of you wants to experience life as someone immersed in poverty, then it’s going to take a lot more focused thought to create that million dollar mansion and multi-million dollar lifestyle than if essence also wanted this.)

There are thousands of books and videos that will teach you how to create a path to the new place in life that you want to be. Just remember that wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, and whatever you want to be is simply a matter of focusing your energies, your thoughts. It’s mind over matter, that’s all. Focused thought, thought with intention,

That’s what it takes to overcome our obdurate world. Just think of where,
what, why, and who and you will be, and with enough focus and intention behind it, the path will be there. Of course, it’s easier if essence (your soul) wants the same thing you do, but as I said, even if not, you can still push your path forward, it’ll just take a little more umph.

And remember, it’s not just all in your head…even though it is 😉

Death and the biker

It was dark, and not just because it was midnight. No, there was another kind of darkness around this place; a darkness that hovered like a deadly gas, permeating the building and the area around it. I didn’t want to be here, but someone had called me to this dingy roadside bar, so here I was.

Already I could feel the emotions from the people inside. They pummeled me like a sledge hammer—hate, anger, fear, but mostly rage. A blood-letting, overpowering, kill-everything-in-sight rage. It was cold, too…not the temperature, but the energies.

I shuddered, and pulled my energies closer to me as I tried my best to block out the overwhelming miasma of negativity that filled this place. Taking a couple of steps inside, I tried to figure out why I was there.

There were about 15 people standing along the walls staring at the three fighters in the middle of the room. The dress code seemed to be jeans and t-shirts, accessorized with biker logos, leather vests, and chains.

I noticed that several bodies already littered the floor, but whether they were dead or merely unconscious was a little more difficult to discern due to the overwhelming rage that filled the room. The source was a scruffy-looking young man over by the pool tables. Knife in one hand, and a broken pool cue in the other, he was holding off two others. A gun was on the floor, half under one of the pool tables near the body of a young woman.

I felt the brush of something even colder at my back, and when I turned around, I saw a tall biker standing behind me. He was dressed all in black leather with a chain wrapped around his waist, and another slung over his shoulder. The only face I saw was mine reflected in his black-visored helmet, but I knew it was Death, he just had that aura about him.

I heard the whooshing of air coming toward me, and a moment later a broken pool cue swept through where I was standing and collided with someone behind me. I spun around in time to see a guy in a red t-shirt collapse onto the dirty barroom floor his face an indistinguishable mess of blood and dirt.

A moment later, a shotgun blast filled the room, and suddenly there was silence. Yet the rage and hatred hadn’t diminished, and the source of those emotions was now stalking toward me. No…it took me a moment to realize, he was stalking towards Death.

I backed up, stepping gingerly around the body of the guy in the red t-shirt. As I repositioned myself, I heard an odd rumbling sound, and looked around for the source. When I finally realized that Death was laughing, I couldn’t stop the thought from forming, “…well, as long as he was enjoying himself.”

My attention was then taken by a young girl, maybe 19 or 20. She had moved away from the wall and was staring at the body under the pool table. I watched her face as recognition streamed across it. As she opened her mouth to scream, I grabbed her hand and planed her to a construct of the bar.

I left her sitting on the floor next to the construct of her body, as I felt the link to the real bar pull me back there. I popped back in and Death and the rage-filled biker were dancing around each other, each with a knife in one hand, and a rather odd-looking chain wrapped around their other wrists. I puzzled about it for a moment, until I realized that Death had locked them together because the young man still had no idea that the shotgun blast from a moment ago had literally torn him in two.

His rage so consumed him, that he would just keep fighting anyone and everyone he saw, and since the only people he could see, were me (and I certainly didn’t want to fight with him), anyone else who was dead, and Death…well, then Death it was.

Another young man was coming toward me now, and for a moment I nearly panicked. Then I realized that he was coming towards me because no one else could see him. He must have been the reason why I was pulled back here so strongly. I quickly grabbed his hand and planed him to the bar where the girl was.

Being in the construct greatly reduced the emotions I had been dealing with, and I released some of the tension that had wound itself around my own energies. As I checked on the young woman, I saw she was still hunched down next to the image of her body, but now I could feel waves of regret and remorse pouring off of her.

She knew she was dead, so now it was time to move her to a place where she could begin to deal with that information. I gently touched her shoulder and moved her to a construct of her childhood church. She wanted comforting and forgiveness, and she had always found them with her religion and her mother, so that’s what I gave her now.

Inside the church she found a construct of her mother, and her favorite pastor. And when I left, they were doing their best to console and comfort her.

Hoping a more neutral territory would make it much easier for the rage-filled biker to calm and perhaps come to terms with his situation, I hurried back to the real bar. Death and the knife-wielding biker were still paired off, and laughter and swearing filled the air. Death danced around the biker, causing the chains he wore to rattle, while they each swung at each other with their knives. Small cuts and slices decorated the biker’s arms, legs, torso, and face, yet Death was untouched.

I reached out and placed a hand on the biker’s shoulder, knowing that Death would follow. As we arrived, I quickly retreated, but it was if I hadn’t been there. His focus never left Death. The red energies around them buzzed like high tension wires, and sickened, I looked away.

The other young man I had left here was now sitting at one of the tables, his head and face buried in his hands. His energies and his posture told me he was ready, and a brief touch told me what to create. Within moments we were away from the bar and at the funeral home where his family was gathering. Though not entirely sorry for the life he had picked, he was sorry that he had hurt his family by not becoming the type of son they had wanted. Now, facing them (or rather their constructs), he had a chance to work things out. It was what he wanted, anyway.

Back at the bar, the rage still seethed around the room in a red and black swirl, filling the room like cigarette smoke, only more insidious and more dangerous. There was no telling how long they would keep fighting. As long as the biker continued to hoard his fears, angers, and jealousies, he would keep trying to fight Death or anyone else that crossed his path.

Shaking my head, I called in a guide to “baby sit”, and I planed home. There wasn’t anymore I could do. Now it was up to each of them to come to terms with where they were and what had happened to them.

As for me, I got out of bed, and drank a lot of hot cocoa. I just couldn’t seem to get warm, though it wasn’t my outsides that were cold. But I just kept seeing that sinuous snake of red and black energies and wondered how anyone could have that much hate and rage inside, and I would feel the coldness all over again.


To touch another is to share part of yourself. Touching is one of the most intimate acts on the physical plane. There is no other place where two people can actually share a hug, hold hands, or simply touch – placing a finger on someone else’s cheek, touching their hair, or just placing a comradely hand on someone’s shoulder. That is because on no other plane do we experience physicality, and that means no where else does a simple touch mean so much.

Think how much we express simply through touch. You can indicate your anger with someone by shoving, slapping, or poking; and just as easily, you can indicate your appreciation of someone by a gentle touch to their shoulder, a hug, or a brief gripping of their arm or hand.

The greatest range of touch, though, comes when we try to express our love for someone. That love can be love between friends or comrades, which is expressed in touches similar to those used for appreciation—a hand to the shoulder, a hug, a short grip on the other’s arm, a finger touching a face. As the love becomes more intimate, such as that shared between parent and child, the touching also becomes more intimate. The placement of both hands on either side of the face, strong hugs, both hands clasped between another’s hands, and lips touching the face (cheek, forehead, and sometimes the lips).

A lover’s touch is the most intimate of all, not because of the sexuality behind it, but because of the sensuality behind it. Someone who truly loves another (sexually, sensually, and completely—accepting them fully for who and what they are) extends that emotion through their touch. The emotions are extended with the hand offered for holding, with the kiss, the hug, and simple touch that wipes away a tear.

Of course the ultimate touch is that of sharing bodies during lovemaking. There is a difference between having intercourse and making love, and that difference becomes quite obvious to the participants through the types of touching that occurs.

Loving touches involve trust and acceptance, as each person allows the other within their personal space (their auric bubble), and then allows them to make that physical contact. If fear or mistrust is felt or experienced by either party, then the touching is not a true exchange of love. Because true intimacy based on love has no fear, has no mistrust.

Touching someone else imparts a part of your energy into their aura, and if they touch you back, a part of them then remains with you. As I said, this is extremely intimate. But it is also very important. Did you know that more people heal faster when they are touched in a gentle caring way then when not? It doesn’t matter how many visitors they have if no one cares enough to reach out and touch them. Even a simple patting of the arm, is enough to impart a piece of your positive energy into their not so healthy energies.

Emotions are felt more acutely when you actually make physical contact, and that’s because your energies are merging with theirs. Your energies are contacting theirs even as your physical bodies are contacting each other. A smile is good, but a touch is better.

So, as you go through your life each day, try to reach out and touch someone. Show them you love, accept, and trust them. Show them encouragement by offering a hug, or a brief touch to their arm or shoulder. Share a piece of yourself with them; give them a boost of your positive energy.