SACRED TRAVEL…Down to the South I Go [Little Rock]

When you have lived in the North your entire life there are preconceived notions of what you will experience in the South, the biggest being racism and conservative values.  I am pleased to announce that my short visit to Little Rock showed me a different view of both.  I traveled to Litle Rock, Arkansas as a guest presenter/author at the Little Rock Literary Festival.  I went alone, as a snaffoo on the part of the organizers left me without my hotel or flight information until the prices per ticket were over $800.  As much as my husband likes to travel with me, we both agreed that $800 could pay for 2 plane tickets to a place of our choosing, and a trip longer than 2 days.

As I flew over Arkansas, approaching my destination, I couldn’t help but notice how the city was surrounded by open fields, winding rivers and greenery…trees, parks, and nature were everywhere.  The Arkansas River runs between Little Rock & North Little Rock; twin cities that together are about the size of Burlington, VT.  In fact, there were definitely aspects of the city that reminded me of the Queen City.  I was greeted in the airport by a sweet woman, holding a sign with my name on it.  Her kindness and charm were delightful, and upon talking a few moments I found out that all the authors were picked up and dropped off by volunteers.; local folks, who like literacy and thought picking up a writer might be a fun time.

My literary duties began an hour after landing, with a meet & greet, dinner & drink thing, in which the public could come and meet authors.  This was my first time as such an event, in which no-one really knew each other and we all had to interact by reading name tags.   However, as you all know, I am quite social and did not lack abilities on the introduction level.  The interesting part came when I told people what my book was about.  Here is where I was reminded that I was not in my liberal, cozy corner of the universe.  Most people were interested, but there was about a third of the people who responded by stepping back a step or two.  Curiously enough, 1/2 of those who stepped back, thought of Mediums as bullshit, the other half that stepped back were doing so for religious reasons.

My response to their back-step depended on the reason they were doing so (the benefits of being Psychic).  For those that thought of Mediums as hokie (this group was primarily other writers)…I made sure to let them know that I had a book contract before I had a book written.  My way of saying…”Hey, I am the real deal”.  The second group, those with religious leanings on the conservative level (mostly local), I made sure to tell them of my family background; being Irish Gypsy & Blackfoot Indian.  With this information, the local conservatives visibly opened to the discussion.

Happily caffeinated Salicrow

Things that were difficult in the south…coffee & food allergies.  I experienced the same thing while visiting Florida a month ago.  Northerners are way ahead of the curb on the food allergy spectrum.  In fact, the writer’s party/meet and greet had a lot of lovely food…all of it made with wheat and the majority of it also containing dairy.  Seriously not even a veggie platter.  But what the lacked in food options they made up for in free drinks.  LOL, so needless to say, I drank my dinner that night (I am a serious light-weight so it wasn’t much).  And coffee…well I believe Northerners are almost cultish about good coffee.  We will  (I admit doing this) walk block after block in search of a decent cup of coffee.  

 

The real eye-opener came the following day when I met my moderator; the person who would be assisting my book-talk.  I met Russell in the author’s room half an hour before my talk.  He had read my book and was prepared to ask questions during the talk if needed.  Upon being introduced to him, I discovered that he was a Chiropractor and a leading member of the local Unity Christian Church.  He had stepped back from his work as a Chiropractor and was primarily working in ministry and counseling for his church community now.  This fact made my thoughts do a side-step, a Christian Minister in the South had been chosen as the perfect match for my work?  After a few moments of talking to him though I was delighted to hear that he practiced energy work, led meditation at his church, and that they believed that God consciousness resided within us all.  Holy Shit!  This was not the South I had prepared myself for.

When my book talk came about, I had a pretty full room & I was prepared to let it all hang out, as I always do.  I read from the early part of my book, speaking of my experience with Spirit in childhood, of communicating with myself and Spirits though mirrors, and I ended my discussion with speaking about ‘the November Incident’; my walking the line of crazy, spiritual opening.  It was generally well received, all of it…the only person who seemed put off by it was sitting in the back room with his wife, but he didn’t leave early, nor did he have anything rude to say.

I do not expect everyone to understand the path I walk or even believe in the experiences I have had, but respect and politeness are a lovely thing….and the South has that in accolades!

After my discussion, I was pretty much free to do whatever I wanted.  I decided I needed to walk, and chose to walk the downtown area, check out shops and get some food.  After eating, I was in a small art gallery/store connected to the library system when I ran into an older lady who had come to my discussion, and waited patiently in line to have me sign her book.  Mary, a spritely 80-year-old was truly delightful.  After talking to me for a few moments in the store, and my talking about how much I loved nature, she said “Alright then, let’s go walk the river walk”, and like that, I was off on a journey with a complete stranger.

As we walked along the river, Mary told me tales of her city, and of her life.  She had lived in Little Rock for the majority of her life, and apparently, I was not the first stranger she had hooked up with before.  She was a retired school teacher, with a keen mind, a strong intuition and a great deal of kindness.  When I walked her back to the library she invited me to come stay with her the next time I came to Arkansas.

On my voyage along the river, I was again delighted to see that my view of racism was also not completely true.  Now I am not saying that there is no racism in Little Rock, what I am saying is I was surprised by the number of mixed race couples I saw.  In fact, there were almost as many couples of mixed race or same sex as there were heterosexual couples  of the same race.  I found myself thinking on this, and questioning if this was the result of the ‘Little Rock 9’ ‘https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/central-high-school-integration.  The Little Rock 9 in short, refers to 9 black students who enrolled in a formerly all-white high school in Little Rock in 1957.  There enrollment was due in part to the Supreme Court ruling school segregation illegal in 1954.  It is a tremendous story of bravery that you really should take the time to read (see link above).

After my time with Mary, I attended a panel discussion featuring cartoonist who wrote about important political and ethical issues.  I was there primarily to see Trina Robbins; a prolific feminist writer, who I had met at the Authors dinner party the night before.  I had found a natural bond with Trina (also a spitefully, delightful senior) when we realized we were both carrying Wonder Woman purses. (Trina was the first woman to draw a Wonder Woman comic).  The other panalist were also waving their liberal flags…Erin Nations, a transgender man who bravely writes the comic series Gumballs, which speaks on transgender issues, and MK Czerwiec a nurse, who writes comics for the Journal of the American Medical Association.  Taking Turns: Stories from HIV/AIDS Care Unit 371 is about her time spent working with HIV patients in the 90’s.     Way to go Little Rock, for bringing in writers (and cartoonist) who are rocking the real word!

After listening to the panelist I headed out to the river walk again, this time to do some work.  I made my way down to the Clinton Presidential Park Wetlands, where I did a bit of earth magic.  Singing/toning to the wildlife and water itself.  If your interested in seeing what I did, go check out my Facebook Live video on my page Sali Crow.  I delighted in seeing the abundance of turtles in the water (I saw at least 50), and the biggest bat-house I have ever seen.  I continued down the river, stopping periodically to sing to the Earth and place crystals here and there (I placed some in other metropolitan areas as well).

All in all, my trip south was a refreshing view of Americans.  Almost all of the local Arkansasians said the same thing “There is a strong current that runs below the surface of most Arkansasians”.  They are in general, or at least the folks I met, more open-minded than I ever imagined, and genuinely interested in meeting people.  The highlights I will keep securely in my mind are those of meeting Russel, and his open-hearted soul, and of Mary taking me on a journey without even blinking an eye.   Thanks for shedding some southern charm on this Northern girl.

spreading love-salicrow

 

 

 

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Stories of Spirit…Welcoming Death [the art of the Doula]

Last night at the end of my Sound Meditation class, it came to my awareness that a fellow Reiki Master, friend, and gentle healer had entered into Hospice.  She had fought the good fight with Cancer only to watch it return, this time with death as it’s companion.  The thought crossed my mind of heading straight to her house and catching a ride home later with a friend, but it had been a long day and I opted for riding home with my husband and making a quick dinner.

Waiting on dinner, I checked my Facebook messages and read “You should come sooner than later.  She seems to be holding on,  enjoying time spent with her boys, but her time is close.”

I put down my phone, packed my basket with oils, sage, my drum as well as snacks, water, and coffee.  When death calls, I never know if I will be going for a short visit or a long.  I ate quickly and got in my car, immediately tapping into my dying friend.  Before I was even out of my driveway, I was singing Spirit Song [song of the soul] and could feel the miles between us dissipate.  I was in duel reality…existing both in ordinary reality-driving my car, watching the road & the otherworlda psychic/shamanic state of existence.  In the otherworld, I was sharing space with my friend; as close as if I were sitting by her bedside.  In this state, I could see her life force and recognized that my decision to see her that evening was a good one.  I felt it as an honor and a duty, that death itself was asking me to come recognize such a beautiful soul as she transformed from body to spirit.  Her work as a healer needed to be acknowledged.

When I got to her house, I was touched by the way her family was already showing reverence.  The love in the house was palpable, and there was a somber reverence that spoke of how much they wanted to honor her in her passing.  We spoke for a few moments about creating sacred space when a loved one is passing, and soon they were walking around the house collecting photographs and special items to place on the altar in their mother/friends room.

Creating an Altar for the dying is a beautiful and thoughtful way of calling in the Ancestors to help with the transition between life and death.  I have given directions for creating an Ancestor Altar at the bottom of the article.

As her family gathered pictures and memories, I began to do Reiki on my friend and to sing gently to her.  My song was a continuation of the song I had already been singing to her during the 20-minute ride from my house to hers.  When singing the song of dying, the words are not important, in fact, I seldom sing with words at all.  The song of dying is sung with emotion and reverence for the person awaiting transition and for death itself.  As a Medium, Death is a friend of mine.  I spend much of my life between the veil, communicating with those who have transcended into death.  I have a great respect for death, and can honestly say that I love it.

By loving death, I do not mean that I love pain and suffering.  I mean that I love the act of transition.  Like birth, death is magical, it is more ‘real’ then any other experience we will have in our lives.  When we sit with death we cannot be anything but what we truly are.  We are vulnerable.

Singing to my friend, I began to loosen the strands of life that were sticky; the places she held tight to her body.  I sang and I soothed.  I could feel her life force & was aware that her death would be soon and did not believe she would live another day.  My song was joined by the soft murmurs of the others in the room.  Her children and friends joining in ‘spirit song’, guiding her soul across the veil.  As I held my tones out long, I felt her sliding on the vibration and her breath becoming slower and slower.

Then it was done, my time with her had come to pass.  She would not pass for hours still, but I felt that it was time for me to leave.  I knew she would be gone before long, but that her last hours were for deep quiet and her family alone.

I left her home at the same time as another friend, and we stopped to talk outside the house.  I spoke of how my need to visit; which had been so urgent, felt like administering last rights…kind of like “Hey there, all is well across the veil, safe travels to the Otherworld”.  In such moments, I connect deeply with my ancient self, my priestess self, the tribal shaman, volva-self.  I see this as the holiest of the work I do, for it is never something to plan on, but something that I must do when I feel it’s vibration.  When death asks me to pay a house call, I do so with great reverence for both the dying and the spirit of death alike.

We are changing the way we interact with death, we are remembering the old ways of honoring and reverence.  Families are interacting deeply with the presence of death through hospice, as well as with the art of home funerals and celebrations of life.  We are remembering the sacred and death is becoming a deeper act of healing.  Years of disassociation with death; death behind white curtains, and sterile environments, and funerals without connection to our ancestors put a serious hick-up in our ability to heal and understand death.  That is changing.  Death is an exceptional moment of Spirit.

My friend passed late this morning, and I am happy to know that her spirit is free and she is no longer burdened with a painful body.  I take heart in knowing that one of her dear friends washed and anointed her body with lavender, showing love and kindness in the ceremonial act of preparing her body for death.

Creating an Ancestor Altar for the Dying-

*You will need- a shelf (dresser, portable tray in the hospital, bookshelf, window sill), family photos of living & dead relatives, special treasures (wedding rings, holy items, crystals, etc).

Set the altar up where the dying and the people holding space can see it.  Even if your loved one is unconscious, set the altar up within their personal space.  Invite your ancestors to join you in the room, and to come aid in the passing of your loved one.

My hope is that ‘ancestor honoring’ become a regular part of death and dying.  We need to remember that we are connected on both sides of the veil.  Our Beloved Dead are waiting for us when we cross, and like our living loved ones sit by our side when we are dying, our loved ones in spirit do the same.  One saying goodbye, the other welcoming home.

I hope you enjoyed the read folks…peaceful travels to the spirit world for those who are crossing.

spreading love-salicrow

salicrow.com

Stories of Spirit…Betwixt & Between & the Shared Dream [the ever evolving story of growth]

April in Vermont exist in the Betwixt & Between; it is no longer technically Winter, but looking out one’s window it is hard to consider it Spring.  Snow and mud cover the landscape, the trees are bare with only the occasional buds starting to appear.  On the warm days, sap is running from the Maple Trees, and steam pours out of the local Sugar Houses.  There is a feeling in the air akin to waking from a dream, as people, animals, and spirit begin to emerge from the deep slumber of Winter.

This time of Betwixt & Between, when things are neither one or the other is a magical time when the dreamscape of the mind is rich with ideas.  People begin planning their gardens and dream of sitting with the sun upon their faces. It is a time when I feel the woods calling me the most.  A time when I can feel the Spirits of Nature and the Ancestors energetically humming in a kind of precognitive trance.  This rich state of becoming is fertile ground for planting one’s dreams/intentions.  It is not the same energy as New Years, where we boldly declare our declarations of change…it is instead a time of groundedness and planned growth, a time when we lay the pathways upon which we imagine ourselves guided toward the change we envision.

As a Medium, I am aware that many of my plans, particularly the big-business ones; the ones that are important to my soul’s path, are worked on by more than myself.  They are shared dreams, dreams in which more than one person, and often more than one Spirit are actively taking part in creating.  This April, I have begun weaving the pattern of growth and collectiveness with others in a grand and holistic way.  Working with a blueprint I created with Spirit over 3 years ago, with roots much older than that.

Last fall I stepped up from renting a studio space @ the Grindstone Cafe, in Lyndonville, VT to sharing ownership/management of it.  This happened naturally and organically, and within a few months the cafe was transforming to include a wellness component, and as it evolved the shelves began to fill up with crystals, and cards, lotions, and potions, geomancy tools and more.  The studio I rented became a shared space, with other practitioners, until it reached a point in which I was starting to schedule myself out of a workspace.  I approached my business partner and said that I thought we needed to talk to the landlord about the possibility of renting another room (the building is large and maze-like) and she agreed….the next day Spirit intervened, to assure us that we were on the right path.

The day after our discussion, before my partner could reach out to our landlord, she reached out to us, letting us know that the people who rented the space next door had decided not to renew their lease and that the space next door to our cafe would be available as of June 1st.  You would have to be blind to not see this as a sign from the Universe, especially when I put it in context with the fact that I had envisioned a wellness learning center over 15 years ago when my Spirits told me that it would be so.  At the time I was overwhelmed with the information they gave me and scrambled to imagine how the hell I was going to be able to afford a big brick building…’How the hell was I going to build Hogwarts? (the problem with interpreting the visions of others).

We decided to trust the path that the Universe was presenting to us, and I put out the idea of turning all the small rooms in the next door space (it is currently a tanning salon) into work rooms we could rent out to other holistic healers.  We never had to advertise, people who we felt would be natural fits to our vision just started filling the spaces.  In fact, we had all of our space filled before we ever did a walkthrough of the space next door, something that will make our growth both affordable and comfortable.  After all, one of the things everyone involved agrees upon is the importance of community…

This is an exciting time in so many ways.  For one, I have an outline already…as I had planned on opening a center like this 3 years ago.  I recognize the Wyrd of it, I see how connected to Fate it is.  It is one of the things I have come to recognize as normal when one has the mind of a Psychic.  Often I know things I am supposed to do, right down to the details years before I am actually supposed to do it.  It comes to me in the form of Awen (the spirit of creativity), often consuming my thoughts.  I have notebooks upon notebooks with detailed ideas and designs, my mind fantasizing about it whenever there is space to do so.  I recognize it as being more than a fantasy, I know what I am experiencing to be a connection with Creation and it comes to me in the form of a download.  The downfall is I can often get so wrapped up in the experience of download to the point where I cannot see the timeline.

This particular dream I have is not mine alone, as I said above it is being shared and created with a group of people all of whom have a deep love of community, and want to share in responsibility and celebration of this center together.

In brief…the Grindstone Cafe & Wellness Center (where I have my studio) will be growing this summer.  In June we will be opening the wall between our current location & the space next door to us.  We will be adding 5 new holistic practitioners to the services already offered by myself and Michele Wildflower of Wildflower ImmunoTherapy.  My current studio space will be emptied out making it even better for the Yoga classes we offer.  We will be extending both our indoor and outdoor seating and retail offerings (holistic and magical goods, hand-crafts & more).  The Cafe offerings will grow to include food (soups/sandwiches/salads),  and light medicinal tonics.  We are excited about this growth, and cannot wait to share it with you.

This blog article started with me wanting to talk about the power of co-creation, and manifestation in the time of dreaming that exists in the Betwixt & Between, it is still such an article.  We are powerful forces of creation, especially when we get out of way and start thinking from the perspective of  ‘What if?’ instead of getting stuck in the reasons why something cannot be.  Our minds and souls are deliciously alive and we are here to be co-creators of our story.  Ask yourself how the story you tell yourself serves you?  If it doesn’t, perhaps it is time to start telling a different story.  Quantum Physics has proven thought matters, it is important to see our dreams, thoughts, and ideas as powerful tools of manifestation, and to remember that is true whether we like the story we are telling or not.

spreading love-salicrow

 

 

Stories of Spirit…Kindness [seeing the humanity in others]

I was sitting at 5 guys yesterday with my back to the door; something I only do if my husband is with me, after all, I was raised by a Marine, when a women came up behind me and asked me for $2.  Having a stranger touch my arm and speak to me from behind my shoulder startled me for a moment and my answer was a quick “No”.

As she walked by me, I could see that she was obviously suffering from mental illness and drug addiction.  Information came running through my mind like a computer download, giving me a quick overview of the woman’s predicament.  As I ate my burger I watched as she went around the room asking a few customers the same question and they all gave her the same answer.  She approached the counter and was greeted by the kindness of the cashier who gave her a cup and told her she could have water from the soda machine and that the peanuts were free.  This all happened within a few moments and then my father’s Spirit was suddenly speaking to me in my head.

“You got plenty of money in your pocket kid!”

My first response was “I don’t give money to people for them to use on their drug habit”.  This was not a judgment of the struggle those dealing with addiction have, but more a feeling of not wanting to contribute to the destruction of a person’s mind/body/soul by financially contributing to the substance.  My father continued by simply sharing stories in my head like watching movies on fast forward.

My dad was the kind of guy who dropped groceries off at friends houses when he knew they needed help but also knew that if they were given money they would likely spend it on drugs or alcohol.  He was also the guy who regularly bought sandwiches for the homeless when he lived and worked in Sacremento.  He would always talk about the importance of seeing people as being human even when they could no longer see the humanity in themselves.  He struggled with alcoholism for the majority of his life and knew that under the addiction was deep pain and soul wounding.  He never forgot that under the broken shell was a human spirit.

When we were kids it was common for my father to pick up a drunk bum named Maynard whenever we saw him looking for a ride.  Maynard was always treated with respect, it did not matter that he smelled bad and slurred his words so bad you couldn’t really understand what he was saying.  Every time we dropped him off we heard the same story about how Maynard had saved my father’s life when he was a boy.  The two of them had been friends, and Maynard saved my dad when he almost drowned in the bog.  My father never forgot that Maynard was a hero, and he approached all people who were down on their luck with the same level of respect.

I continued to watch the woman hungrily stuffing peanuts into her face at the side counter, and found my food tasted horrible, “How could I sit and enjoy a meal I didn’t really need, while I watched another who was obviously starving?”  I waited until the line wore down and went to the counter and ordered another meal…then walked over to the woman and handed her the slip. “This is your receipt, when the number is called you can go pick up your meal at the counter.”

She almost started crying on the spot and being a ‘wet responder’ (someone who cries at every emotion) myself, I was just about there with her.  She reached out to hug me, something I know many wouldn’t accept from a stranger, especially someone who looked as hard worn as she did.  I accepted her hug and returned it with genuine care, and in that hug, I felt her true starvation…” when was the last time someone saw this person as a human being?” I thought.

She went on to tell me a story that I knew was a lie, one of how she had cancer and was starting her job tomorrow.  I didn’t have to be Psychic to know these things were not true.  I simply looked her in the eye and said “You need to take care of yourself”, and walked back to my table to eat the rest of my meal with my husband.

I found it hard to eat, even though I no longer felt guilty about doing so, but because of my father was back this time to tell me how proud he was of me.  He flashed stories through my mind, as I tried to finish my meal, and the woman who I had given the meal to kept waving to me and blowing me kisses whenever she caught my eye.  I finished my meal, waited to make sure she didn’t have a hard time getting hers and left the restaurant.

I walked away seeing how powerful the little things are, how a burger and fries and a hug have a value far greater than money.  No one should go hungry, regardless of the situation that got them there, and all people should be seen as human.  I’m not going to lie and say I help every homeless person I see, or say that I donate hours of my time helping the mentally ill and addicted.  In fact, cities are difficult for me, and I often find myself having to divert my gaze from the downtrodden, as my Psychic mind can pull me to deeply into their struggles.  But I believe my fathers approach of handing a fellow human a sandwich is something I can do.

I hope you enjoyed the read, and that you find yourself compassionate when the universe  (or my dad) asks you to step up and give a man/woman a sandwich.  We find our humanity when we share kindness and compassion with others.

spreading love-salicrow

Sacred Travel…Between the Worlds [Sound Healing & Deprivation Chambers]

While in Connecticut, I got the opportunity to try Float Therapy.  It was something I had been wanting to do for about a year, after first hearing of it while I was in Milwaukee.  Float Therapy is a sensory deprivation experience in which you float in an Epsom salt bath in a blackened room, wearing silicone earplugs.  In short, I loved it!  The experience, however, deserves a bit more explanation…

I was in Connecticut to do a Spirit Gallery and Book discussion for the CT state Tax Collectors, something I had been having fun talking about for the last few months.  After all, it was an unlikely thing that Tax Collectors would hire a Psychic Medium to be part of their annual conference, but such is my life…filled with the wyrd and unusual.  The time I spent with the Tax Collectors was truly beautiful.  They were an open-hearted group of people, eager to expand their understanding of the unseen world.  This alone was worth the trip!

I had planned to stay in Connecticut for an additional day, before taking a plane to Florida as I wanted time to work on the land & water in Long Island Sound, as Earth Healing is a passion of mine.  When I discovered that the resort (The Water’s Edge) was a beachfront property I knew I would need an extra day, so that I could spend time in the morning doing Geomancy (earth healing) & sacred singing to the Genius Locus/Spirit of Place that was Long Island Sound.

As I set up my crystal grid on the empty beach (the benefits of being there in March) I felt the land reaching out to me.  I recognized the ancient rhythm of the land, something seldom heard by the busy throngs of people that populate the sound.  I opened myself to spirit and sang from my soul. (You can find a Facebook live video of this on my personal page Sali Crow).  I was moved by the energy there and could sense the energetic vibration of the Native Americans who had once called this land their home.  I felt a deep sadness for the lack of awareness most people carry within them, which shifted as I remembered the room of Tax Collectors I had spoken to the night before.  Times are changing I heard in my mind, people are waking up, we can make a difference.

This experience would have been grand enough on its own to fill my need for Sacred Adventure, but I knew more lay ahead for me.  For I had booked appointments for myself and my husband for Float Therapy later in the day.  After are time on the beach we hopped in the car and set up the GPS, only to find that the spa we were heading to was not in the same town as us, but 2 hours away in the wrong direction.  I was totally bummed out.  I had thought I was in Westport, CT when in reality we were in West Brook, CT.  This geographical fuck-up, made my husband chuckle.  He told me he was sorry we wouldn’t be able to make the appointments, but that my ability to lose track of regular things; like what town we were in, was one of the things he loved about me.  He appreciated it as an interesting quirk that made all my Psychic abilities feel more balanced.  That even though I had all these amazing gifts, I still needed help with some of the more practical things in life.

To say I was disappointed was an understatement.  Instead of Float Therapy, I was heading to the pharmacy to pick up antihistamines for my Florida time (orange blossoms due me in).  After leaving the pharmacy we decided to take the rural routes to Hartford and see what we found along the way.  A few miles into the drive I just started googling Float Therapy in CT and found a place 20 minutes away on the road we were on.  Better yet we could get 1.5 hours for the same price as an hour in the first location.  When I called they had availability for the both of us as soon as we could get there.  I felt a deep connection to the sea and the sound again, and couldn’t help but think that the strands of Wyrd (fate) that made up my life, had woven me a better pattern; after all, I really wanted to do 1.5 hours not 1.

When we arrived at the spa we left our shoes at the door and were shown into private rooms which held a shower and a deprivation chamber.  The deprivation chamber was quite large.  The ceiling of it was large enough to stand in, and it’s length and width were big enough that you could stretch out without touching the walls.  The water itself was only about 10” deep and filled with Epsom salt & peroxide.

After showering you got into the chamber (naked), shut the door and settled yourself in the water.  The Epsom salt & peroxide in the water making it almost impossible to stay sitting up, and easy for you to float.  The water and air are body temperature, something that makes it easy to lose track of what part of your body is in water and what is not.  There are lights that are easy to find in the darkness that illuminates the tub and the ceiling above in a pleasant blue, for those who do not feel comfortable with complete deprivation of the senses.  I did turn them on at one point just to see what the experience was like with light.  It was still good, but I wanted the darkness and complete deprivation.

Within a few moments, I was losing track of my body and found that I would drift off and come back in a rhythmic pattern.  The longer I was in the water the further into my mind I would go, and the less connected to my body I felt.  The first time my body drifted over to one of the sides and my finger touched the tub wall, I was slightly startled, to be quickly back in my body…but only momentarily.  The word startled may be a bit much as it was more like stepping out of a dream for a few moments, before drifting off again.

The only sound I could hear was the sound of my breath, something I periodically engaged with.  There were a few moments of discomfort for me, as I am someone who can go so far into trance that I develop a form of sleep apnea and stop breathing for a short second.  I have done this periodically throughout my life, so I was not scared, I just returned to consciousness for a few moments and connected to my breath, until I drifted off again.  This is not told to scare you, but to let you know how deeply relaxing the experience is.  The trance apnea as I like to call it is not really that common, but something I have experienced my entire life.  It does not scare me, it is more of a reminder…”Hey Sali, you are still in your body remember it needs to breath”.

The feeling of floating in complete darkness at body temperature, while the only sound you hear is your own breathing is reminiscent of the womb, and the feeling of spaciousness & timelessness is truly remarkable.  I would highly recommend Float Therapy.  That being said, if you are claustrophobic, or not comfortable with your own mind, you may want to hesitate.  It is truly a sacred journey.

I had completely lost track of time, and new this was ok.  Music would gently startup for the last 5 minutes of the session to let you know it was time to get out and come back to reality.  Shortly before this time, I decided I wanted to play with the deprivation a bit, control what experience I had.  So I started to tone (sacred singing) at such a low volume that it would most likely sound like a murmur above the water.  But in the water and darkness with silicone earplugs in, the sound was experienced on a vibrational level throughout my whole body.  It moved through me and filled me with energy (something I carried throughout the entire day, to the point that my husband compared it to sleeping next to an active battery).  The other interesting thing about experiencing the sound of my toning in such a manner as I could see the vibrations in my mind’s eye as well as hear them and feel them.  It was interesting to see how some sounds that appeared solid when I tone normally, were actually more of a quick rhythmic pattern…with short pauses throughout the elongated sound.  This is something I want to explore more in depth and will be searching out Float Therapy closer to home.

After exiting the deprivation chamber, and showering off the Epsom salt mix, I felt deeply relaxed and energized at the same time.  However, I was ready for some espresso, to ground me solidly into form.

I write this from Florida, sitting in the quiet morning sunlight of my in-law’s house. My time here I short, filled with Seances, Readings and Book signings, but I am thankful for the 70+ degree weather, and the green I see out the window.  I will be searching out Float Therapy when I return back to Vermont.  Thanks for reading folks.

Spreading love-salicrow

 

 

Stories of Spirit…Things that go Boo in the Middle of the Night {adventures of the scooby-doo detective agency]

I spent last weekend at the Lake Morey Resort in Fairlee, Vermont, doing Psychic Readings, Spirit Communication & workshops.  It’s a long weekend filled with work and play.  One of my highlights is playing in the Waterlot Ballroom in the dark of night.

I love the Waterlot Ballroom as there is a significant convergence of ley-lines that cross in the room creating a vortex of energy that is easy to work with and creates a lot of spirit activity.  Over the years my sister and I have taken groups of women there for extra events that are not on the schedule.  This year we decided to just go to the Waterlot with only the women who were there working with us.

We had just settled ourselves on the stage near the windows, the lighting was low; only one light to make it easy to get across the room if we wanted.  Holding Lemurian Crystals in our hands and listening to Norse music we were planning on doing Journeywork (trance dreaming) with a focus on our personal growth.  Shortly after the music started we heard the sound of the slightly intoxicated…a group giggling women, creeping down the hallway, in the search of ghosts.  The closer they got to the room, the more we had to hold ourselves back from laughing.  We were having a close encounter with the Scooby-Doo detective agency.  They were spooked, giggling, and egging each other on.   Suddenly, my sister looked over at me and said “I’m going to go turn the light out”, a look of mischief in her eyes.

She crept across the room trying to keep quiet as we all covered our mouths trying not to laugh.  Just as the Scooby-Doo detectives got close to the room the light went out.  This was quickly followed by a handful of screams, laughs, pushing, shoving and a clear announcement of  “I think I peed my pants”.  The women turned tail and hustled it down the hallway.   This alone was enough to become the highlight of my weekend.  We were all laughing so hard we too almost peed ourselves.  I could imagine a pig pile of bodies colliding in the hallways, legs moving but not going anywhere, and general chaos.

We settled back into our music and trance work, only to hear the same voices 10 minutes later.  They were braver than we expected, something that made me proud of the group of adventurers.  After all, they were truly just startled, not scared.  The spirits that reside at the Lake Morey Resort are not evil, scary or bad.  They are pretty laid back.  I have met an old man in the elevator, a young girl and a young man have visited my room multiple times over the years, then there is the young guy in his swim shorts who drowned in the lake years ago, a cat and a few other visitors…all of whom are pretty happy, friendly and generally well behaved.

When the ladies were in the hall just outside the ballroom I heard one of them say “Don’t try to scare us Paula!”.  I knew what group of ladies who were bravely stalking the ghost of the Waterlot, it was the Zumba Ladies from Connecticut.  Like me, they have been attending the weekend for years. I have read for most of them and even visited/done Seances for a few of them when I did my Gypsy Tour of Connecticut & Mass. a few years back.  Paula did not listen, she and one of her compatriots left the group and snuck into the ballroom from the other door and successfully managed to scare the crap out of their friends.  The whole time, me and my group of spiritual adventurers were over in the darkened corner of the stage, biding our time.  When they had recovered from their first scare, we were prepared to give them a second.

The lights came on, and we all shouted from our spot on the stage…chaos ensued, with yells, screams, laughing and great enthusiasm.  The Scooby-Doo detective agency had gone to the haunted Waterlot with the hopes of discovering ghost, but behind the illusion was a group of Witches grooving on the energetic vibes of the space.  The story could end there, but I would like to say that not only were they brave enough to go ghost hunting; even when lights went out, but they all enthusiastically joined us in our spiritual adventures, even when we told them that we were going to turn all the lights out.

With the lights out we began to chant and tone, something I am totally into.  I love the way sound can move people from regular reality into shamanic reality.  Our minds can get caught up in the sound and travel on it to places and spaces most never explore, except while asleep and dreaming.  The ladies laid out on the floor, holding the Lemurian crystals I had brought.  Not-coincidentally there were 8 crystals and 8 of them.  As they relaxed we rode the sound of our voices into the spaces betwixt & between.  When we finished, someone’s phone rang.  Not before, not during, but as soon as we finished.

The next day we laughed at breakfast with the Zumba Gals of the Scooby-Doo detective agency, I told them I was going to blog about it, and we all posed for a group picture (minus one Z-gal).  They shared their stories with us and told us it was the highlight of their weekend, as well as what the gist of the phone call that had come in at the end of the journey work.  Here is the phone call verbatim from one of the Zumba Ladies for your amusement…

Chant literally ends…
Ring ring (call from my 20 year old so ..after midnight)
Me (at a whisper) : dude what’s up I’m about to do a Seance’ with real freakin witches ..what do u need?
Spencer: What?
Me: dude you almost ruined the chant … what’s up????
Spencer: wait, witches? Where are you?
Me: yes real freakin ones!! I’m in a dark haunted basement …What’s up?
Spencer: Oh ok cool…ummm……Can you put some money on my card so I can buy some chicken nuggets I’m in the drive thru..
Me: WTF! Click (money added)

I hope this read helps you to remember not to take yourself too seriously, and that often things are not what you think they are.

 

spreading love-salicrow

 

STORIES OF SPIRIT…Best Friends with my Spirit Guide [soul-friends]

My book has been out for 3 weeks now, and people are starting to share their experience of reading it, with me.  Most of the feedback has been in regards to similar personal psychic experiences people have had, and how they gained intuitive insight from reading how I navigated my own Psychic development.  The other sharing I have experienced is that people recognizing the people & places in my story.  This is not all that unusual as I have lived within an hour radius of the Connecticut River for the entirety of my life (minus a few months in Maryland here and there).  Vermont & New Hampshire are my home; particularly the areas of the Northeast Kingdom, and the White Mountains.

Last week one of my community friends brought up Adam when she spoke of my book and how the reading of my relationship with him affected her.  She recognized Adam, she remembered him, she loved him and as she spoke of him tears welled up in her eyes.  At that moment I could feel Adam standing in my space, I looked at the tears in her eyes and I could feel his heart filled with love.  This, of course, made me want to reciprocate with tears of my own.

I changed some names in my book, but not Adams, he insisted that his name and story be mentioned, after all, Adam’s story and my story have been woven together for the last 15 years.  Anyone who has ever done a Seance with me knows who he is.  For those of you who have not, Adam is my doorman; the spirit guide who holds the job of watching my back and organizing traffic in the spirit world.  I call him my doorman because I use to own a bar, and the job is pretty similar.  He decides who come in, who is not welcome and delivers messages for spirits who need a bit of help communicating with me.  Although I knew him briefly in life, our friendship is something that has developed after his death.  I love Adam and consider him one of my dearest friends.

When my friend spoke of Adam she mentioned how tragic it was that his life was cut short.  I understood what she meant for he was a remarkable soul, but I couldn’t help but smile.  My immediate response was to say “He still is making a difference, he is still working toward a goal.”  I often refer to Adam as the ‘hardest working spirit I have ever met”.  He goes to work with me every time I do Spirit Communication, which means he is working a full-time job in the afterlife. Like me he is a healer, helping people to find peace in knowing that their Beloved Dead are ok.

Adam has taught me so much in the years we have been connected.  But the most important lesson he has taught me is that older spirits, ones who have been around for awhile, often continue their work between death.  He has shown me the dedication that spirit guides can carry and how much they are willing to be present in the world of the living. They care about what’s happening here, and the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead is getting thinner.

I appreciate all the feedback, and love hearing your experiences through reading it.  I hope that you are all fortunate enough to gain the peace of connecting with your Beloved Dead.

spreading love-salicrow