I have begun to change my relationship to the spiritual teachings coming to me. I am really good at huge events that create transformation in my life. I have experienced traumatic events including a head on car crash at 100 miles an hour. Because of these events that have occurred in my life I have gained tremendous insight and spiritual awakening. Because I had chosen huge 100-mph in-your-face experiences to "get it" I began adding to my prayers that I could be still enough and awake enough to be able to hear the voice of God in gentle ways. I took a trip down to San Luis Obispo, California were I was seeing clients and was on the radio. I left in the middle of the night to get to the airport for a 6 a.m. flight. I was feeling unsettled. I had several glitches leading up to that trip that brought up some old issues about feeling alone on my path. There were some events that previous week that supported my preconceived notion that life had to be hard. As I was boarding the plane I began to realize something was very wrong. Every person on the plane was intensely interacting. Everyone was talking to each other. Everything had taken on a glow of Technicolor. It became very clear we were beginning some significant event. I fly quite a bit in my work and I always do a quick check of everyone's aura before boarding. I had the idea that if with my psychic eye if something was wrong I would not get on the plane and somehow save myself from doom. As I sat down in my seat with the in focus intensity of something very out of the ordinary. I centered myself and went within to ask what was happening. The first thing I got was that something was wrong with my luggage. Then I heard emergency landing. I knew I was part of whatever was about to unfold on that plane. I continued to move within and be in clarity for what ever was ahead. A very old man and woman boarded and sat next to me. She seemed confused and he was helping her with her seat belt and all the details of settling in for the flight. I tried to engage her in conversation but she was too confused to follow in a conversation. We took off and began our flight. Morning coffee was passed out but immediately picked back up because of the turbulence we began to experience. No one was moving around the cabin; the flight attendants were all safely buckled in. I was in the isle seat and the elderly man next to me suddenly asked to get out and went down to the bathroom. As I turned towards his wife she said very clearly, "He has had a heart attack before and I think he is going to die this time." I pushed my assistance button and got out of my seat. Stumbling down the isle the attendant met me. "There is a man in the bathroom having a heart attack', I said. The attendants went to assist the man. I went back to my seat and began to talk to his wife. Again she acted as though she could not understand me and could not answer. I realized that it was highly unlikely that she had spoken to me about her concern for her partner out loud. I had heard her inner plea to help her husband. A few moments later I was asked to exchange seats with a paramedic that was going to assist. The turbulence was still bouncing the plane along and with everyone else safely in their seatbelts as I began to walk down the isle to the back of the plane. Because of old injuries causing nerve damage to my feet and legs I still have difficulty walking on uneven surfaces. The plane being tossed in the turbulence had now become my personal Spirit walk just to get down the isle. It was at that moment that the clarity and intensity came fully into supernatural focus. The intention on the entire plane focused for those few minutes on getting me safely to that seat. Each person held my arms as I passed them. The plane movement at points lifting me completely off the ground. I looked down the isle at the beautiful faces of these strangers who had been for that instant connected in a higher purpose. I knew at once what was happening and began to walk. In our spiritual community we do an exercise called an Angel Walk. The two lines of people face each other and one at a time we take turns walking with our eyes closed down the middle. People gently touch and support you on your journey. We sing, "How could anyone every tell you, you were anything less that beautiful, how could anyone every tell you, you were less than whole…" Down the isle of the plane I walked. Surrounded by Angels and the support of my community of humankind. As I walked I said to myself, "I am supported by the Universe. My path is made easy by the support of those who surround me." The song we sing at the Angel walk came flooding back, "How deeply we are connected in our souls." We made an emergency landing and the couple disembarked to receive medical care. The moment ended, people fell back into their own agendas. Complaints of missing connecting flights and grumbling replaced the precious moments that had just proceeded. I however hold the memory and speak to you with the knowledge that you don't have to huge experience happen to you to be in the presence of Angels. Even a walk down the isle of a plane on a Sunday morning can change your life with grace and ease.
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Melba came into my life shortly after my mother-in-law Edna was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She fixed the meals, kept the house, bathed her, and generally helped out. This is not the first time Melba had played this role. She had helped many loved ones through terminal illness. What she really did was hold the space and prepared us for Edna's transition. I have to admit I almost missed the opportunity to learn and accept love from her. Melba was soft and round. She wore polyester pants and seldom wore her false teeth. She was raised in a small town and had been a care giver of one type or another all her life. The kind of person, much to my chagrin, I might not have seen. Melba's teaching came through who she was; this is what I call "Melba Wisdom". Melba was a Gatekeeper. There was a shine about her, a sparkle of Spirit that could not be concealed. My first lesson was to really see her and to keep seeing the real Edna as her physical appearance deteriorated so quickly. Melba encouraged us to say what we needed to say, to love Edna fully and to risk not pulling back. Melba was quick to hug and quicker to laugh deeply. Many times Melba cried with us. Melba encouraged us to keep Edna's bedroom full of grandchildren playing. She took time to let us speak our sorrow. Melba said, "Just love each other". Edna made her transition; and Melba followed a year later, her body tired from doing the work Spirit asked of her in this lifetime. Since then I have learned much about the special work Melba, and so many other Gatekeepers like her, do on this planet. I have also learned to assist these special souls to continue their work without unnecessary toll to their physical and emotional bodies. Gatekeepers hold a special place. You can often find them in helping professions working with birthing and dying. Gatekeepers gather and hold aspects of soul fragments that might otherwise become lost or confused. They assist others into the Light. Gathering and holding these soul fragments can cause illness as well as emotional and physical symptoms of being "full" or holding physical weight. It takes a tremendous amount of energy for Gatekeepers to hold these soul fragments, energy that could otherwise be used for health and other life processes. Being a Gatekeeper is much like having a neon sign above your head with a constant "open" sign on, directing souls to safe haven. Although the job of Gatekeeper includes gathering and releasing soul fragments, many Gatekeepers, because of a feeling of concern and compassion to help others, hold onto the fragments without releasing them into the Light. Gatekeepers will always continue doing their job even if it is detrimental to them because it is part of their soul purpose. I believe Gatekeepers need to reawaken to their soul purpose in a conscious way and create a plan to automatically release soul fragments into the Light. If you gravitate towards healing professions, have worked with people making transitions or been drawn towards places where great numbers of people have made their transitions you could be a Gatekeeper. If so, I encourage you to use the following technique based on my work in Multidimensional Cellular Healing to call on assistance from the Angelic realm to guide soul fragments into the Light: Move into a meditative state. Ask for Angels, Guides and Psychic Surgeons to come down and be with you throughout the procedure. Place your hand on your body in the location where you are drawn, usually this is the chest or belly, and imagine you can hold the soul fragments under you hand. Ask an Angel to come and hold these fragments and all the ways they have been affecting you. Watch as the Angel lifts the fragments and feel your body responding to the removal of these energies. After the Angel has them all ask the Angel how many fragments you were holding. (The most fragments I have retrieved were from a woman who had strong religious beliefs around abortions. She released thousands of fragments of babies she had drawn to her and had been compassionately holding.) Ask the Angel how these soul fragments were affecting you physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Ask the Angel if these fragments manifested as physical weight on your body and get a specific number of pounds it represents. Often the number will be very large, hundreds or thousands of pounds. This weight represents etheric weight and can be responsible for fatigue. You can imagine how much energy it takes to hold hundreds of pounds of etheric weight. Look up with your spiritual eyes and see the Light of Source. Press down on your body with your hands to represent the weight this has been and all the ways it has affected you. Watch as the Angel releases the fragments into the Light. Feel yourself get lighter and lighter. After the release is complete look up again to the Light of Source and ask two Angels or Teachers who are willing to work with you as a Gatekeeper to step forward. Two beings will emerge from the light. Be specific that you want Gatekeeper assistance. These beings are specific to this work. Many of the beings that come to help in this way are very tall and narrow, somewhat pillar like in appearance. Often there is a birdlike representation at the top of the pillar. I call these beings "Pillar Angels" or Falcon Angels". These particular beings have a protective aspect to them and do come for other purposes too. These Angels will now stand with you to meet souls coming towards your light. They will take the souls into the Light without soul fragments coming into your space. This method enables Gatekeepers to continue to do this soul work without expending energetics needed for other purposes. I almost missed my teacher Melba. Missing Melba might have meant missing the lesson about Gatekeepers which has helped so many others. I hold no sadness in thinking I could have in some way helped Melba with what I know now. I know there are no mistakes and the timing of my process has been perfect. Melba has been my teacher and continues to do her soul work. I end with offering you this prayer so you too can meet your Melba: "May I stay vigilant and look for Spirit in every form it takes without judging outside appearance. May I recognize my teachers. Let me love without fear of being left alone. Let me give voice to what is in my heart and listen from a place of healing. May I honor Spirit in simplicity." Just love each other. Blessings. Cathy Pfeil It has been many years since Santa has visited our house. With our daughter Heather and her two children now living with us we bought our first actual tree in years, strung popcorn, wrote letters to Santa and had long philosophical conversations about the reality of Santa and that Santa had a clear understanding that he needed to leave gifts at both his parents’ homes. The one thing I really do love to do is put out Christmas lights. This year I was hoping to have a large flowering Cherry tree wrapped in lights. From my bedroom window I can see the tree, during the day filled with birds, and thanks to Chuck and the amazing men in his life, I have the tree filled with light each night. We have no intention of taking the lights down, having lights in that tree are part of my bottomless bucket list, the one that will not be able to be filled for 30 years or so. And I am so thankful for every one of those nights. Finally I am writing another installment of Currents. First, let me update you all on the surgery I had at Virginia Mason before Christmas. This was a surgery to replace a lead wire I had somehow dislodged from my spine, probably from fainting and falling. Buried deep under the ample material of my right bum cheek I have a computer that runs a wire through the foramina, or hole as most of us would call it. I can control the amount of stimulation sent down the wire by placing a plastic paddle over the area with the device and dial in the pulse length and intensity. How this actually works to control bladder function is not actually known, or at least I do not hold I high enough government clearance to have that information. The part that is clear is level 3/1.0 puts me back in BIG GIRL PANTIES. The other news about the surgery is from my Health Insurance. Because my new diagnosis of Multiple Systems Atrophy includes bladder symptoms, they are not willing to pay for the wire to be replaced from a previous surgery which they paid for, but I was not diagnosed at that time. And of course, needing the surgery in the first case was because I was having the symptoms of an undiagnosed disease. This year, right after Thanksgiving, our grandson Oliver came home from kindergarten asking questions about how to rig the camera so that it would take a picture of Santa as he came in the living room. Apparently the existence of Santa is a hotly debated topic in the Lincoln Elementary Kindergarten. Which reminds me of my favorite Christmas Poem, The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus by Ogden Nash that has a line, “Slunk like a weasel or a marten; Through nursery and kindergarten; Whispering low to every tot; 'There isn't any, no there's not!' So here is our high tech little guy, ready to set motion detectors on the roof, and install low light cameras in the living room so he could bring this definitive proof to school, to defend his belief in Santa to all the weasels and martens. So I helped him out. Did you know that during Christmas it is the darkest time of the year? I point to the table top I painted showing the wheel of the year, the solstices and equinoxes. (Yes, I am a very hip grandmother!) See, December 21st has the longest night and shortest day. So it is a time when everyone kind of huddles together. It used to be there were no lights, no warm heaters or anything to help keep people feeling safe and comfy through these dark nights. That is why we have a big bonfire and share a meal with all our friends on that night. Lots of people thought it would be a good idea to gather in one place and share what they had, to feel safe and make it through these dark nights. People in different places and who have different religions all had special names for this time of sharing. The Winter Solstice, Christmas and Chanukah are only three of many names people have for celebrating this special time of sharing with those they love. We carry the idea that the light can stay lit and carry us through the darkest nights. And where is that light? It is the light within each of us, so we share, increase the flame, the warmth and the light. During this season of sharing, people’s hearts feel so full of love that they want to give special gifts to others to remind everyone that in the darkest of days we can find love and sharing together. This feeling of giving and sharing is so huge that the idea of Santa is the idea that represents how big this feeling is. So lots of people want to be Santa. You see him at the store, or in parades, those are all people who are channeling the joy of the season. People see him and say, Yes! I remember that good feeling, and they want to pass it on. When we collect food for the food bank and take it there, or make a gift for someone we care about, we get to be the channel of giving too. As a child you get to be the receiver of lots of presents from Santa and everyone who loves you, when you are older it gets even better, you get to become an aspect of the Spirit of Giving. So is there a real Santa? Indeed there is. So don’t bother trying to catch him in the act, you will never catch him. Although there was one time when I was very small I am pretty sure I saw him as he was flying away. Hold your magic close; those dark nights can only be filled with the brightness of your love.
The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus by Ogden Nash
In Baltimore there lived a boy. He wasn't anybody's joy. Although his name was Jabez Dawes, His character was full of flaws.
In school he never led his classes, He hid old ladies' reading glasses, His mouth was open when he chewed, And elbows to the table glued. He stole the milk of hungry kittens, And walked through doors marked No Admittance. He said he acted thus because There wasn't any Santa Claus.
Another trick that tickled Jabez Was crying 'Boo' at little babies. He brushed his teeth, they said in town, Sideways instead of up and down. Yet people pardoned every sin, And viewed his antics with a grin, Till they were told by Jabez Dawes, 'There isn't any Santa Claus!'
Deploring how he did behave, His parents swiftly sought their grave. They hurried through the portals pearly, And Jabez left the funeral early.
Like whooping cough, from child to child, He sped to spread the rumor wild: 'Sure as my name is Jabez Dawes There isn't any Santa Claus!' Slunk like a weasel or a marten Through nursery and kindergarten, Whispering low to every tot, 'There isn't any, no there's not!'
The children wept all Christmas eve And Jabez chortled up his sleeve. No infant dared hang up his stocking For fear of Jabez' ribald mocking.
He sprawled on his untidy bed, Fresh malice dancing in his head, When presently with scalp-a-tingling, Jabez heard a distant jingling; He heard the crunch of sleigh and hoof Crisply alighting on the roof. What good to rise and bar the door? A shower of soot was on the floor.
What was beheld by Jabez Dawes? The fireplace full of Santa Claus! Then Jabez fell upon his knees With cries of 'Don't,' and 'Pretty Please.' He howled, 'I don't know where you read it, But anyhow, I never said it!' 'Jabez' replied the angry saint, 'It isn't I, it's you that ain't. Although there is a Santa Claus, There isn't any Jabez Dawes!'
Said Jabez then with impudent vim, 'Oh, yes there is, and I am him! Your magic don't scare me, it doesn't' And suddenly he found he wasn't! From grimy feet to grimy locks, Jabez became a Jack-in-the-box, An ugly toy with springs unsprung, Forever sticking out his tongue.
The neighbors heard his mournful squeal; They searched for him, but not with zeal. No trace was found of Jabez Dawes, Which led to thunderous applause, And people drank a loving cup And went and hung their stockings up.
All you who sneer at Santa Claus, Beware the fate of Jabez Dawes, The saucy boy who told the saint off. The boy who got him licked his paint off. Everything went well for my surgery yesterday at Virginia Mason. Of course it took longer to find a vein than to do the surgery. It took two doctors, two ultrasound machines and one nurse. Of course the nurse found a vein that would work, unfortunately it was in the arch of my left foot.
Groggy and exhausted Chuck and I left Seattle at 5:30, and joined a slow freeway crawl after a bad tanker truck crash outside of Dupont. We actually considered a hotel room.. Thank goodness my sister lives in Lakewood and we ended up spending the night at her house. Thanks Nancy! The surgery was to replace the lead to my sacral nerve stimulator which had dislodged from my spine in one of my many falls. I am happy to report so far so good with the stimulator on again. What could these "misfolded" protein molecules be trying to create? A new design, practicing it's mutation without success up until now, that holds a vital evolutionary brain update, the very link to the unfolding of the human race?! Or is it just a misunderstood command to fold left instead of right? Whatever the cause I claim my new advanced brain pattern as Divine Creation.
Here is an amazing article from OHSU: OHSU researchers develop new drug approach that could lead to cures for wide range of diseases12/09/13 Portland, Ore. A team led by a longtime Oregon Health & Science University researcher has demonstrated in mice what could be a revolutionary new technique to cure a wide range of human diseases — from cystic fibrosis to cataracts to Alzheimer's disease — that are caused by "misfolded" protein molecules. Misfolded protein molecules, caused by gene mutation, are capable of maintaining their function but are misrouted within the cell and can’t work normally, thus causing disease. The OHSU team discovered a way to use small molecules that enter cells, fix the misfolded proteins and allow the proteins to move to the correct place and function normally again. The researchers were led by P. Michael Conn, Ph.D., who was a senior scientist in reproductive sciences and neuroscience at OHSU's Oregon National Primate Research Center and professor of physiology and pharmacology, cell biology and development and obstetrics and gynecology at OHSU for the past 19 years. This month, Conn joined Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center as senior vice president for research and associate provost. The team’s work will be published this week in the early online edition of the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. The work was the culmination of 13 years of work on the process by Conn and Jo Ann Janovick, former senior research associate at the ONPRC who is now also at TTUHSC. Richard R. Behringer, Ph.D., from the University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center, M. David Stewart, Ph.D., from the University of Houston, and Douglas Stocco, Ph.D., and Pulak Manna, Ph.D., from the department of biochemistry/microbiology at TTUHSC, also contributed to the work. Conn and his team perfected the process in mice, curing them of a form of disease that causes males to be unable to father offspring. The identical disease occurs in humans and Conn believes the same concept can work to cure human disease as well. "The opportunity here is going to be enormous," said Conn, "because so many human diseases are caused by misfolded proteins. The ability of these drugs – called ‘pharmacoperones’ – to rescue misfolded proteins and return them to normalcy could someday be an underlying cure to a number of diseases. Drugs that act by regulating the trafficking of molecules within cells are a whole new way of thinking about treating disease.” Proteins must fold into three-dimensional shapes in precise ways to do their work within human cells. Before recent discoveries about misfolded proteins, scientists believed that proteins that were inactive were intrinsically non-functional. But work by Conn and others revealed that, when the proteins are misfolded, the cell's "quality control system" misroutes them within the cell and they cease to function only because of that misrouting. Pharmacoperones can fix misfolded proteins and thus make them functional again. Scientists had in recent years observed this process in cells under a microscope. The work of Conn's team is the first time the process has worked in a living laboratory animal. “These findings show how valuable laboratory animals are in identifying new treatments for human disease,” said Conn. “We expect that these studies will change the way drug companies look for drugs, since current screening procedures would have missed many useful pharmacoperone drugs.” A wide range of diseases are caused by an accumulation of misfolded proteins. Among the diseases are neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's disease, Parkinson's disease and Huntington's disease. Other diseases include certain types of diabetes, inherited cataracts and cystic fibrosis. Conn said the next steps will be clinical trials to see whether the same technique can work in humans. The research was funded by the National Institutes of Health (grants OD012220 and DK85040), the Ben F. Love Endowment, the American Heart Association, the Texas Heart Institute and the Robert A. Welch Foundation. December 2013
My big news is that I have had my 3 month checkup and I do not have any further progression of neurological symptoms. I have been hunkered down and totally focused on my health the last three months and have made huge changes in my life. The main thing I am working on is creating a huge open space for healing to pour in. I am simply being me to the fullest, allowing myself to be sad and mad sometimes, but mostly I am really happy. I am surrounded by my family, I wake up to grandchildren getting ready for school, and a house filled with love, and I am overwhelmed by the generosity of my friends and family. Okay, enough of that… TOP TEN PLACES TO FAINT
Turkey makes me choke. Try as I might I cannot swallow the stuff. I have had this affliction since I was a child. I come from a huge family. So huge that for us all to be together for Thanksgiving we rent a hall. The mere mention of missing the holiday is met with deep sighs and the guilt inducing “your not missing Thanksgiving are you? This could be the last time you ever see your Grandmother.” Like many families children are segregated to a separated area. Our family is so big we actually have a children’s room. All the men watch football until dinner is served and large amounts of alcohol are consumed. You would think that “going to thanksgiving” would mean showing up shortly before the meal is served and leaving after the pie. Not in my family. Thanksgiving begins the evening before Thanksgiving with all the women getting together to prepare food. Old stories are embellished, olives stuffed and stuffing made according to the only true and correct family recipe. No variation in the meal plan is allowed. Yams mashed with a thick layer of marshmallow. The potatoes whipped with butter and cream. Green beans made with Campbell’s mushroom soup and fried onion bits. No off brand soup for us, only the finest condensed soup was allowed. No pre-Thanksgiving evening was complete without the Turkey Dance. Every year, I AM NOT KIDDING, passed down from generation to generation was the special moment when all the children are called into the kitchen. “Kids! Kids! You don’t want to miss this! Come in here right now!” At the sink my mother stood. A huge, raw turkey swaying gently with my mother holding it up by the wings dancing the poor bird around singing the Big Fat Turkey song. Everyone would laugh like this was the funniest thing they had ever seen. In my mind the Turkey Dance and the special ability our turkey had after Thanksgiving were connected. Our turkey spent the next week in our garage covered with a large white tea towel UNREFRIGERATED. My father took a knife and a saltshaker out to the garage for “snacks”. To my knowledge no one every got sick eating this bacteria filled turkey. Okay, maybe a little sick, but this was always written off as pre-Christmas excitement. The turkey must be cooked for a minimum of 8 hours and the cooking of the bird has to begin before dawn. My mother had been up for hours by the time we all awoke. We started the day with the traditional Thanksgiving fast. “We’ll be eating a big dinner later, so don’t fill up”, my mom would say. With the only actual meal later in the day my brothers, sister and I began the traditional all day sneak eating. Before noon we would have consumed half the celery and pimento spread that had been made the night before and a large amount of Chex mix – not the kind you can get now but the real kind that is made on the stove with 3 boxes of Chex, a sack of pretzels and secret ingredients. This recipe, plus many others are passed to the next generation only after you “grew up”. Breaking into the adult woman club and being invited to Thanksgiving eve happened when I got married. For the first 5 years after I entered quasi-cooking status my big job was to bring rolls. Entering into the inner sanctum of turkey dancers did not protect me from the onslaught of opinions about every area of my life. As a child I longed to find out I was actually adopted, but I am truly a member of this family. I have with age turned from youthful rebel into eccentric aunt. As required by family tradition the turkey was carved in the kitchen with an electric knife and served on a huge platter. Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, green beans, marshmallow yams, cranberries (the jellied kind with no lumps), a fancy Jell-o salad and my rolls. I would sit, staring at the plate swirling around in front of me. Leading up to this moment the following are some, but not all of the issues that would have been covered: 1. My weight. 2. The Roman Catholic church and my leaving it, and my mother’s reminder that “if you would only go to communion once a year you could still go to heaven”. 3. My disturbing pro-choice views. 4. That my artistic talent being wasted on “those lesbian paintings”. 5. The lack of a television in my house and “what exactly did we do with all that time?” Slowly I placed a small piece of turkey in my mouth and began to chew. And chew. I added a sip of water to the growing mass in my mouth and tried to swallow. Even with water to flush it down the turkey would stick in my throat. I began to realize that if I simple took the food and moved it around on my plate no one noticed. I wrote HELP in the mashed potatoes and no one noticed. To stem the onslaught of unsolicited opinions and chance being able to swallow turkey over the years I have tried a number of strategies. Strategy #1 Drink heavily. This actually worked for a few years but upped the choking potential. Strategy #2 - Bring a guest as deflection. A shaggy someone with more tattoos, bad table manners and BO was best. Someone my family could really focus on. Better them than me. This worked until they figure out who invited this person. Strategy #3 Pretend that I was visiting a foreign country and I was observing the local customs and rituals of this tribe. A successful technique, but do not under any circumstances mix this with Strategy #1. I realized this after I stood up to thank my hosts for the wonderful time in Japanese. Then I remembered I don’t speak Japanese. Oops. I remember watching the movie named "Bucket List" with all the exotic locations and adventures that the dying men felt they needed to complete before they died. I would not say that I have things I wish to accomplish before I die, but I do have a list of how I choose to spend my time. My "bucket list" is a long list of cool things our family can do together. Last week one of those wishes was filled by taking our family to the Great Wolf Lodge. I took my little electric cart to keep up with the kids on their quest through the hotel. Then I created a comfy camping spot in the lobby so I could watch the kids in the waterpark. To me that is the highest and best moment. My heart is so open! Life is good. |
Cathy Pfeil
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