In This Life

I've danced around it enough in my life and online, but it is time to admit a truth that is both difficult and freeing: I am of extra- terrestrial stock.

What does that mean?

I will do my best to explain.

On the one hand I am fully human. Human birth into human life from human parents into a human family.

But the other hand tells me that the odd happenings of my life that return in dreams offering  glimpses of otherness while trying to define the otherness in a way my human mind can grasp go beyond the confines of simple Earth life.

I consider ETs my people. When I was young I considered them my real family. I know in my heart they have contacted me. While I regret having no conscious memory of it, I am sure it is for a reason. And I am equally sure I set it up this way for my own good.

Some memories have stuck with me over the decades. I have written on the blog about the clown drawn in grease pencil on a barn wall. I know a visitor put it there because I have never forgotten the day it happened. It plays in my mind frequently.

 In the last few years I have remembered more, how it didn't start as a clown, but morphed into it from fear.

Originally, after the visitor told me couldn't visit me anymore I would go into the barn and gaze at the drawing, remembering our talks.  It wasn't until years later that I understood I am the only one who ever saw the drawing.

I have remembered that during our talks we spoke about my role here, what I was to do in this life. I don't recall what it is. I very much want to, because I want to make sure I do it.

But I believe, now, that part of it is talking openly about the experiences. There are many, many different races in the Universe and I don't know which one I am from, but I do know, among other things, I am a bridge between them and us.

Here's another example:

During a past-life regression in the early nineties I went to a lifetime in Peru thousands of years ago where I was an alien. My current husband was a friend in those days. In the scene I went to he and I had been walking through the rainforest and were stopped on the crest of a large hill. The hill led to a valley and the valley led to a small mountain probably a hundred miles away, if not more.

In it was our base and it was were I was headed. I was excited to go there, but saddened that my friend, being human, could not go with me.

We parted at the hill and I was at the base in an eye blink.

I've always felt I had something to do in life and it always felt big and important. Important comes in many forms. Perhaps my role isn't so big, but it is still important.

Photo -Finish Friday -- Woman at Work

This pic is a pic I took in Peru in 1991. It's a Quechua woman at her loom in the late afternoon.

Coffee Time

Commenter Isabella Mori asked if there were any automatic things I didn’t include in my post about the Successful Secrets.
Well, the big one is coffee. I restrict myself to two cups a day, in the morning, though I make exceptions.

When we were in Costa Rica in 2001 I drank as much of it as I could. Some of the best coffee in the world is grown there and the Ticos are justifiably proud of their product. As such, it all but flows from the taps.

At our hotel in Arenal the coffee was on and it was free to guests. It was just outside the lobby in a recessed area complete with comfortable chairs. It was a glorious place to relax.

Arenal’s chief drawing card is its volcano. It dominates the skyline and it was shooting sparks when we were there. The trick is you have to get up before 6 a.m. to see it, though, as the clouds start building about then and it’s obscured by 6:30.
Early is easy for me and it was already light. I made my way to the hotel’s roof volcano viewing area early enough and stopped by the reception area to see about coffee. Despite it having sat all night it was still tastier than most I’ve had here.

It was far different from the version I drank in Peru years earlier. At one particular place it was boiled down to a syrup and poured into my cup to about one-third full.
It seemed absolutely perfect as it was, but my waiter proceeded to thin it with water to make a full cup. It was okay, but I do wish I’d just had the syrup.

Fellow blogger Bunnygirl posted the other day about a new product called “Java Juice.”

It’s a liquid coffee extract in individual packets that are easily transported. You can add hot or cold liquid to it as you see fit and enjoy a proper cup wherever you go.

I wonder if the inventor spent a bit of time in Peru?

Here’s Bunnygirl’s take on it: http://tri-bunny.blogspot.com/2007/04/cool-product-idea-java-juice.html

More about Java juice:http://javajuiceextract.com/