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Archive for the ‘humor’ Category

We are going through an emotionally intense time. We can get lost in confusing emotions and it is impossible to step back, to trust that all is happening for a good reason and to take us to a better place.When in “high juice” it is difficult to be clear and to take in any new information.

You don’t need to look at the stars to know that there is a whole lot of transformation happening now. But, it does help us to find clarity and gain understanding of the bigger picture.  I will be talking about this during the webinar Saturday.

There are two ways to expand your feelings of self-love and self worth. The first is to have more experiences that reinforce those positive feelings and to say “yes” to that. The other way is to experience the opposite and say “no” to the situations and people involved. When you are experiencing the second scenario it can feel like the universe is trying to make you feel bad.

If you need a way to smooth and ease your way through or would like clarity about what is happening, I hope that you will join us tomorrow, Saturday July 18th, for my free webinar.

If you just enjoy expanding out with other human angels and would like to feel wonderful and blissful, you are very welcome to join us, too.

Those of you who know me know that whatever I do is going to be enjoyable, expansive and usually funny.  I love being able to help others without getting “all serious” (I love to get “all Sirius”, though).  Sirius is a big participant in the cosmic dance right now.  Since Sirius is in direct alignment (conjunct the Sun) I expect to get some yummy cosmic energy from the Galactic Center via Sirius to our Sun and to us!

My soul has spent a lot of time living in the Sirius Star System (and a part of me still does) so I love to roll around in the glorious cosmic flow.

I suspect your soul does also… 🙂
Date: July 18, 2015
Time: 1:00 p.m. Pacific Time
Check the World Clock for your time zone.
Cost: Free!

With all the great energy moving through and around us now, how could we NOT get together and DO something?!

Click here for the webpage.

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Could you use a laugh?  I promise at least a giggle from these photos.

http://www.onegreenplanet.org/news/dogs-play-fetch-underwater/

My favorite:

Dog chasing ball underwater

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The fireworks in San Francisco were just beautiful and amazing!

I went with my three kids (ages 12, 17 and 20) and the 20 year-old’s girlfriend to my sister’s apartment in “The City”. Her building us just about 4 blocks from the marina. We had dinner and the kids walked down to check out the scene by the water. When it got dark we all went to the roof of my sisters building which has a fabulous view of both fireworks displays. They were completely synchronized, bold, colorful and loud!

I didn’t take this picture but it shows the two shows happening at the same time.

I had to laugh at myself because regardless of the fact that I expected the loud booms, I still startled. I’ve always been a bit skittish around loud noises. I remember when I was in college I spent a lot of time in the woodshop/metalshop/ceramic room. (I’m an unusual woman because I really love tools except arc welding.) If you turn of an oxy-acetylene torch the wrong way is makes a loud pop. The guys in the shop would deliberately do this just to watch me jump and then blush in embarrassment.

If I were in that situation now I would laugh at myself and be flattered that I was getting so much attention. However, I would still jump at the sound. I guess some things never change.

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You are cordially invited to join me for my Free Teleseminar. Connect with some Old Souls in the New Energy and have fun!

You can also ask questions and do expect some new information and energy “work”.

Here’s where you start: http://goo.gl/DgsOc

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Purple spiral fractalI had a wonderful time talking with Lance AKA The Zany Mystic on his radio show called Zany Mystic’s Fireside Chat.

Here’s how Lance described the program: Guest Sarah Biermann, renowned intuitive counselor and healer, takes the listeners on a guided journey outside the confines of this 3D density, beyond the gravitational pulls, worries and fears. We meet up with Ascended Masters, angels, devas, fairies and elementals, then open a portal into a meeting with our own Oversoul to just “be” our expanded Selves.

When we return, Sarah shares some fascinating stories about her crystal and indigo children, which open the doors to new possibilities for us all.

You can download the audio here. http://cosmicpenguin.com/Zany/

Have Fun!

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During my adolescence, in what I now realise was a dysfunctional family that left me deeply traumatized, rock music was the San Andreas fault between my father and I. I was a shy, sensitive, unconfident teenager: my rebellion was of the ingrown toenail kind that turns upon itself and festers unseen. By contrast, my father was an assured, almost bombastic figure who seemed to have a strong grip on the tiller of life. But instead of nurturing me to make my own decisions, I was assaulted with predetermined outcomes that never quite worked. My father loathed rock music with a vengeance. He used to bellow with laughter when recounting a story about the one-time organist of Bristol cathedral who had been asked what he thought of modern music. This paragon of wit replied that he thought nothing of it, as it wasn’t music. When this trouser-wetting morality tale failed to curb my appetite for rock, I was issued with a classical guitar and sent off for lessons. I can still feel the humiliation I endured strapping the guitar in its oblong cardboard box to the back of my motorcycle – another bone of contention – and careening through the streets, carrying what appeared to be a small coffin, for a few painful lessons before the guitar was mercifully reemployed as a dust-gatherer.

I felt completely alienated from my family. My school grades, once so promising, tumbled; I never made it to college. The only thing that resonated with me and my friends – themselves all battling dysfunction at home – was music. It was the mid-1970s and the rock scene bristled with a new generation of stars. From England came Queen, Rod Stewart and Pink Floyd. Fleetwood Mac blended British Blues with sun-drenched SoCal soft-rock. From across the Atlantic came Neil Young, Jackson Browne and Tom Petty. Billy Joel’s literate piano ballads counter-pointed Bruce Springsteen’s dispossessed working class rock. It was all grist to my mill. Listening to the radio, way down low, in the dark of my room; or getting drunk at a party, eyeing the girls to whom I was completely invisible, rock music was my lifeline.

Naturally enough, I tried to emulate my heroes. I began writing song lyrics as a way of journaling the pain of daily existence. I bought an electric guitar. I became the archetypal bedroom songwriter: sitting on my bed, surrounded by chord sheets and “half a page of scribbled lines,” as Pink Floyd put it, strumming an unplugged electric guitar and mumbling incoherent vocals. Some years later there was a band, its brief existence terminating in a cloud of marijuana smoke and bad blood. The guitar went to the pawn shop but the lyric writing continued; to date there are over 750 of them.

Despite my love for music, I always found the actual process of playing an instrument and singing to be incredibly tiring. After just 10 minutes of playing I felt too exhausted to continue; consequently I never mastered either my instrument or my voice. At one point a music club sprang up which promoted original songwriters. At last it felt like there was a home for my quirky guitar style and half-choked vocals that made Bob Dylan sound like an opera singer. I dragged myself in front of a microphone and in front of an audience for the first time in my life. ‘Dragged’ is the operative word: my feet were leaden, my throat parched, my bladder bursting despite four visits to the toilet in the last hour. Every strum of my guitar required herculean effort. Every word had to be squeezed out of a pair of lungs that, no matter how deeply I breathed, defied Nature with their vacuum. I staggered through a brief yet interminable set where I experienced a very close approximation to dying. Someone clapped, probably because it was over.

I could easily have given up. But one thing my father strongly modelled for me was the belief that, in the face of failure, you grit your teeth. “To succeed, you simply have to outlast failure,” I read somewhere. Time after time I hauled myself off to the music club, my stomach a pit of butterflies, and gouged out a few songs. On occasions I lacked the emotional courage to show up; I beat myself up for that. Other times I went and played abysmally; I beat myself up for that too. The music that I loved to my core was also a source of profound pain.

But somewhere along this masochistic path, I learned how to write songs. Despite my technical shortcomings, the other songwriters in the club were genuinely encouraging. I redoubled my efforts. I took singing lessons, but to no avail: I could hit the notes during practice, but as soon as I was in front of an audience I couldn’t breathe. I had voice training, emitting ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ for hours on end. Nothing changed. I abandoned live playing once and for all.

Half a decade passed. Then a breakthrough happened. I caught up with an old music friend. She was deeply into the New Age movement and said, “I love your songs but I can never understand a word. It might be a throat chakra blockage.” She sent me off to a woman who laid me on a massage table and performed some strange hand gestures. Slowly but surely, the seizure I felt in my throat whenever I sang began to dissipate. But my guitar still felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. It wasn’t enough to entice me back onto a stage.

In parallel with this sorry tale, the rest of my life was equally unsuccessful. I became profoundly interested in personal development and experienced some massive breakthroughs, particularly around my sexuality. This led me to an awareness of shame and the unseen role it plays in crippling our lives. It also led me to Sarah Biermann at ImagiCreation. For all the progress I had made in clearing out negative beliefs, I still felt walled off from true, free-flowing expression. I had a session with Sarah and the one-and-only St. Germain; in the following weeks I had a series of insights into specific shames that had been trapping me all my life. One of these was a massive shame about presenting myself in public. As soon as I became conscious of this shame, I felt a millstone fall from around my neck. I knew instantly what it was. Out came the guitar, dusty from long disuse. It felt light in my hands. My voice soared. My head swam. Old lyrics and chord sheets poured off the printer. On went some shiny new strings. I practiced… fifteen minutes, thirty, an hour; for the first time in my life it was effortless. For 30 years I had been trapped in an invisible web of shame for daring to believe that I and my creations – my songs – were good enough to stand up in public. Invisible as it was, that shame was stronger than reinforced concrete. And now it was gone.

For the past few months I have been out, playing at open mic nights in the local pubs, loving every minute of it. My experience is the total opposite of what it used to be; I’m confident, my playing is smooth, my voice clear. I engage with the audience and they respond in kind. At 48 years of age I have finally reached the place I should have been when I was 18: happily playing my own songs to appreciative audiences. But the road, this long road through the darkness, has not been a waste. I know my muse now, its name is Shame, and I have it in my sights:

THE CROSSHAIRS OF DISGRACE

She sat on the stairs, tears on her face
Square in the crosshairs of disgrace
Made to feel small all of her life
For being a lover, not being a wife
Made to feel small for being her self
Made to feel small for the hole ‘tween her legs
Made to feel small for lacking the right stuff
For being too pretty or not pretty enough

When we gonna learn, people are people?
When we gonna learn it’s really that simple?
You run what you brung, you’ve got your own space
Lower your gun with the crosshairs
The crosshairs of disgrace

He lay on the bed, pain in his face
Square in the crosshairs of disgrace
Made to feel small all of his life
He held out his wrist; laid in with a knife
Made to feel small for showing his face
Made to feel small for touching that place
Made to feel small for taking a chance
Not wanting to fight but wanting to dance

We shame and blame and shame and blame
Then bury it all ‘neath a layer of pain
We wander around lost and confused
Is it any wonder we’ve got the blues?

When we gonna learn…

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Monthly Free Teleseminar from Sarah Biermann and ImagiCreation: Smile For No Reason Day!
Recorded May 22, 2009

We cleared the programming that keeps us in negative thinking and having to work for money. And we had a fun time!

You can listen or download here: Smile For No Reason Day

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