The law of reflection

I wonder about the law of reflection. You know, you are in a grumpy mood and then the rest of the day you feel like everyone around you is impatient, cutting you off in traffic or yelling or simply being mean. Fortunately, I rarely have such days. I used to think it was my being an optimist.

I tend to see the good side of everything. Burning my toast in the morning perhaps meant that I wasn’t supposed to have the carbs of bread that day. Getting caught on errands in a downpour meant I was supposed to enjoy the smell of the rain and wait for the downpour to let up before venturing back to my car and driving home.

I wonder though if there really is something to the universal law of reflection. That law states that anything you put out into the universe will reflect back to you. If you are in fear that something bad will happen to you that day, you are literally pleading with everyone to do something to you for you to be fearful about.

I used to live in Baltimore Maryland. It has been in the news lately of being one of the most violent, crime ridden cities in the United States. Multiple times a day I heard the wailing siren of police cars as they sped down the street near my home. Several times a year I would hear a police helicopter overhead as one of the nearby businesses had been robbed yet again.

My next door neighbors had a burglar alarm system and a little sign in their front yard telling the world that they were protected. We did not. I never feared at all the fourteen years we lived there that we would ever be robbed. I would imagine our house was sometimes invisible to robbers and they would never even think to break into our house. I would sit on my back porch and gaze out into my lovely flower garden I had planted and feel I was in a peaceful, safe, beautiful oasis. Our home was never broken into. Our next door neighbors though with their fears of being robbed had that happen, and more than once.

I don’t think it was about being lucky or unlucky. It was all about energy. While I sent out thoughts and feelings that the world was beautiful and safe, my neighbor sent out thoughts that living in the city was a bad idea. My neighbors attracted a group of young men to come and rob them. They had to see our house when they decided which house to break into and the energy surrounding my house had to somehow repulse them like bug spray is to mosquitoes.

I am noticing this law of reflection works beyond human interactions. Last week I was in the mood to make lovely summer sandwiches with fresh mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, and a balsamic vinegar. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, the temperature was beautiful, and there was low humidity. I went into the store and ever single item I had on my grocery list was on sale. I had a perfect sandwich on a perfect day!

No wonder I stopped watching national news several years ago. It was full of fearful items with killings, wars, domestic violence, and other not so nice things. I also don’t like horror movies or violent movies or those with lots of fear and suspense making your heart pound and hands sweat. I don’t invite those things into my life. I choose love.

Some people might say I live in a fantasy world and to just accept that violence, hatred, and fear are all around. However, I see sadness and separation in much of that. If I close my eyes, I can imagine the robber being a little three year old having his toys yanked away from him, leaving him crying. I can imagine the abuser being a little child and being hit by an adult until they were bruised and bleeding. I’m not saying the abused became the abuser any more than an acorn can become a telephone pole some day. There is potential but not an absolute that it will happen.

So I imagine when I go on vacation, that the weather will be perfect. Divinely perfect. On one vacation, it rained the whole time with a cold sort of rain where the best thing to do was wrap yourself up in a blanket and sit by a fireplace. I was staying at a Bed and Breakfast that indeed had a huge fireplace with a welcome fire going all day as the rain pelted the windows. Being there, inside, near the fire with unlimited hot teas or coffees all day was perfect. On another vacation, I stayed in a cabin on a Lake Heron. The weather was perfect, whether it be windy enough to cause waves to crash on the rocky beach or mild and sunny to watch hummingbirds flit in and out of a bright red feeder on the porch overlooking the lake. I have to believe because I was with peace with the world and expected a beautiful vacation, all would be well. And it was. The weather and entire experience reflected the joy and peace I was feeling. The law of reflection is for real.

Imagining a story

I am struggling with imagining a story that will have excitement but not be filled with duality of good vs. evil, power over/power under, fear, anger, anguish, etc. I read a few novels to get a sense of the flow and wording of what makes a good story, and I am left with the dark contrast of a 3D world to a bucolic 5D world of wonder, magic, and harmony.

When I imagine the 5D world by itself, I am at a loss to see what struggles are there. I imagine no wars, no conflict. I imagine even sporting events to be of unity and creating something together. I imagine people spending time creatively expressing themselves in music, art, dance, and other forms of expression.

I see this story starting to take shape in my mind, like a dark gray fog that is barely starting to lift where I could make out shapes and form. I know intuitively that this story, this novel will be one to bridge between the 3D and 5D worlds. There will be the 3D expressions of conflict and karma, and there will be the 5D expressions of wonder and grace. In time, I’ll learn in the novel how to bridge the gap between the old and the new so that slowly the 3D will change as everything is viewed from a new light.

This is transformational. This is wonder. I have a whole legion of Guides helping me with this venture.

I don’t want the story to be just of the usual 3D tensions that have been explored in books and movies and song and dance for thousands of years. I want a story which will help people see things from a new perspective, then do things from a new perspective.

I am trying to do that in my life. I see someone cutting me off in traffic on a highway, zipping by in between the cars on down the road. From a 3D perspective, I could say, “How rude! He’s going to get killed or kill someone. How horrible!” All of these statements are filled with judgment and shame. From a 5D perspective with the same activity, I could respond, “I wonder if he’s alright. Maybe he’s rushing to the hospital. Or perhaps is running from something.” Instead of lashing out with a gut response of judgment which is so ingrained in society, I responded with compassion.

This is not easy to do all the time, but yet I still practice it. It is slowly becoming easier and as natural as the heated responses were.

I am shifting how I see the world. And in response, the world is changing around me.

Sit with me as I evolve.

Dream Stream

Continued from the previous post…

So here I was, again, before my big friend. “What may I call you?” I asked. I wanted to be polite and respectful, so a title or name would be proper.

“You may call me Ka’rog. That is the closest you could call me because I really don’t have a name. I have a vibration.”

This was quite odd to me as everything in TV world had a name, especially if it could hold a conversation. I glanced at Ka’rog expecting a lecture of some sort, although I had never been taught by a Sasquatch before.

“Today you need to explore the Dream Stream,” he spoke with authority. We were going to focus on observation of all in the woods, but this is more pressing.

I gave him a puzzled look.

“Every dream, every thought, every action, every experience from any world or realm or dimension is contained in the Dream Stream. Musicians, inventors, and writers all tap into the Dream Stream for inspiration.” And then with a questioning face, he said, “Did you think that all the fantastic stories of adventures and drama were just pulled from someone’s imagination?”

I didn’t know where they came from. I thought the individual was just being clever to think up entire worlds of fantasy and adventures.

“They are tapping into everything that is, in any time, in any dream, in any imagination from any perspective and bringing it forth. Dreams can be nightmares, with monsters and chase scenes. Dreams can be loving and gentle. If you can imagine it, it exits someplace, somewhere, in some form.”

“How do I do this then?” I asked as I loved to daydream and this sounded like a new adventure to me.

“You already are, dear one. You just don’t know it yet. Since you began writing what came into your head, you have been tapping into the Dream Stream.”

“What about when people die? Do their dreams just fade away?”

“They can. But more likely, their dream are just part of the Dream Stream, for someone else to pick up and run with. Think about how you can have multiple people coming up with the same invention at the same time. They all were tapping into the Dream Stream. And even if someone dies, as you put it, their thoughts and dreams remained in the Dream Stream for others to pick up and read. Nothing is lost.”

I wondered how it was that fantastic ideas sometimes popped into my head, or how I got inspired to just hum a little tune to myself or even write this blog. It never occurred to me that I was tapping into something universal, something far beyond the reaches of my imagination that many many others can also tap into whenever they dream, asleep or awake.

“You have been chosen to tap into the Dream Stream and write,” Ka’rog began. “This dream you are in is going to take a slightly different direction. Instead of writing about yourself and your dream here, you need to begin writing from the perspective of the Dream Stream itself. Some may call it writing from the narrator perspective, or third person. You are to write the story that unfolds as you see it.”

I felt a weight on my chest. “Write?” I asked. I am one who spends a lot of time dreaming and thinking, and put a few notes down on paper here or there. But write, as in write a novel? “Where do I begin?”

Ka’rog looked at me then found a big flat rock that sat only a few inches above the ground. He sat down, crossed his legs and instructed me to copy him. He had me close my eyes, breathe in and out deeply, and wait.

I did as he instructed. At first, all I saw was the inside of my eyelids, imagining the blood vessels, skin, and eyelashes. Then, it faded to a kind of silvery gray.

“Now hold the intention to tap into the Dream Stream,” I heard Ka’rog say in my mind. Intention is everything. Imagine you are there, in the place where dreams are formed and held.”

I then felt I was on a highway of color, or maybe it was wide ribbons of color or thread. The threads moved in many different directions, weaving and crossing other threads, sometimes braiding with one then going off in another direction, disappearing in a thick weave again elsewhere. This weaving wasn’t flat, though, like an endless rug that was woven on a planet size loom. No, this weaving seemed to have multiple directions, and was much more than the X, Y, Z axis of a three dimensional object, as each of the threads had a shadow of many other similar threads. I was looking at a tesseract, a multi-dimensional shape that continuously changed.

Each thread was an individual soul, which crossed paths with others. The shadows were possibilities of where the soul thread could go. Where there were small choices, like which outfit to put on for the day or what to eat for breakfast, the threads were very close together. But where there were choices such as moving to a new city, getting married, or choosing one career over another, the threads suddenly took wide divergent routes.

As far as I could see, there was no beginning or end to the Dream Stream. It just was, in every direction. I touched a string in my mind randomly and I then saw what looked like a knight fighting in a battle, holding a sword and shield and fighting another. I touched another string some distance away, and I saw someone sitting in the shade next to a river with a fishing pole. I touched another and then saw someone eating a slice of pumpkin pie. Each of these were memories from someone, somewhere. Each of these is part of a story.

I then plunged my whole arm in and touched dozens of strings. My head immediately began to spin. I was seeing many many different adventures in a jumble, like trying to listen to the radio but getting the overlap of all the different stations bleeding through. Or, in a visual example, seeing tiny snippets of each dream going so quickly that each was visible for only a fraction of a second before a completely different dream appeared. So many stories. So many people. It didn’t matter if they were from TV World called the past or future. It didn’t matter being from a perspective outside of the Dream Stream. There was no past or future. Everything just was.

I pulled my arm out and sat. My head still swirled. I became overwhelmed with where to go, what to write about. There were so many stories, so many unique adventures. I opened my eyes and asked, “Where do I begin?”

Ka’rog looked at me with a gentle expression. “Just write. Start to write and it will come together. Trust yourself.”

My mouth felt parched and I felt my heart flutter. This all was exciting yet I had never written something as daring as a novel before. I eyed the river in front of me. I walked over and plunged in. I was in a dream, after all, so anything was possible.

And so the story continues with a new sense of direction…