The Climb of Life

On July 19, 2017July 19, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Memoir, Tarot/Oracle Readings, Uncategorized2 Comments

I thought, naively, that it would get easier once I reached the teachings of the third-degree, but that of course was the wish of the fool. The path back to self is not for the faint of heart. One must sign-up for the long haul over treacherous terrain. The stumbles speak of resistance to the fall, yet who doesn’t stumble? This is not a dive off a cliff into icy waters to over-come fear in one brave leap. No, this is the walk of the conscious placement of feet while knowing that the ground may give way at any moment to quicksand. That at every bend in the road, one might find a monster from the past, reminding you of what you have not let go.

We are birthed to experience separation, but life is not actually about the survival of the fittest. No, Darwin had it wrong. This is not about whose genes are superior, for no one is selected out. We can pretend we are immune to the darkness that haunts us as we walk through life. We can pretend we have control over our steps, which are always one step ahead of our shadows, but that too is the walk of the fool.

The Five of Pentacles card in The Rider Tarot Deck

Shadows lurk until we shine the light of awareness upon them. They feed on our thoughts and our dreams, draining the light within until the darkness dims the soul’s truth. Eventually we must surrender.

The Nine of Swords in The Rider Tarot Deck

The demon is always within. All else is an illusion. You can pretend it wears the face of the other, but you can only lie to the soul for so long. Growth withers in darkness, yet somehow most of us learn to shun the light. We forget that the light without is also within. That there is, in fact, no separation. After we are birthed into the world we fall prey to pride, telling ourselves, “Ahaha, I can do this alone. Look at me!”

The Five of Swords in The Rider Tarot Deck

We look at each other and say, “Look at me. Look at you. We are not the same.” Inside our minds we draw up comparisons and place ranks. Yet the soul knows no division. It knows only unity.

You’d think it would be easy, this coming back home to the core. To the truth. Who doesn’t want to experience the harmonious state of oneness. Of a state that is of joy, peace, and grace? Yet we cling to the past. To what we have learned through separation. We cling to the hurts and the perceived injustices. To the what-ifs and have-nots. We cling to the not-good-enough and the I-want-more. We believe life is a struggle for survival, a constant climb to get to the top, not realizing that once we get to the “top,” we must fall back down.

The Moon-Child

On July 9, 2017July 9, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Uncategorized3 Comments

The moon-child forgot who she was before she turned three suns. In her time of forgetting, she mapped the stars with rocks in the dirt below her feet, and played with the rainbow of light around her growing body. When the birds flew down to watch her, the moon-child hummed their songs deep within her throat. Sometimes she would even sing.

One day, when she was playing with the trees’ broken fingers, drawing spirals in the Earth’s brown body, the moon-child learned about silence. The rays of solar light were too glorious to ignore, and the moon-child rose from her crouch, threw the tree-fingers to the side, and began to dance. Her orange dress caught the waves of the wind as the moon-child wove the golden light around her. She raised her face to the sky and opened the mirrors of her eyes to absorb the endless blue. Laughter bubbled up from her belly and tipped the flap of her throat until it released her air.

The moon-child, too absorbed with the sky, didn’t see the tree-finger next to her dancing feet, and when she twirled, one last time, she stumbled her tender body over the rough limb. Down the moon-child fell, like a tiny comet, rolling into a ball over her bleeding skin.

It was the first time the moon-child saw her body release a red river and she became filled with fear. Her small lips opened in a cry to her Earth-mother. Over and over she cried out her name, until her voice grew faint with frustration. Before she gave up her voice, the moon-child grew angry, and stamped her bare feet on the hard ground until her wounded toe bled a small stream of red into the dirt. “Ouch,” she cried out, remembering her pain.

Once again, the moon-child began calling out for her Earth-mother to help her. She wanted to be held. To be loved. To be told everything was going to be okay. She wanted her Earth-mother to cradle her in her arms and make the hurt disappear along with the red stream leaking from her body. When she again paused to listen for a response, her ears heard only silence. Even the birds had stopped singing.

The moon-child didn’t know that her Earth-mother had chosen to sleep away the day, and heard her cries only as a dream. And so, the moon-child also learned about abandonment.

Days passed into troubled nights, and the moon-child stopped dancing in the golden light of the sun. When she traced shapes in the dirt with tree-fingers, she began to forget their origins. Although the birds still settled nearby to watch, and to sing to her, the moon-child stopped singing back. They are not singing for me, she told herself. They are singing for each other. They do not see me. No one does. Not even my Earth-mother who is always asleep when I need her most.

At night, when her Earth-mother left their cabin and it was her turn to sleep, the moon-child gazed at the white light in the sky that slowly grew from nothing into a large white circle, then back down to nothing, as though it was playing peek-a-boo with her. Where do you go? she wondered when the body of light disappeared behind the veil of darkness. Take me with you! she whispered into the inky air as she imagined her body sailing through the dark sea on a path of stars to get to back home.

Finding Magic in the Land: Mt. Cardigan

On July 7, 2017July 7, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections, Uncategorized11 Comments

At the ancient stone circles in the United Kingdom, the shape of the stones often mirrors the surrounding land. It’s both awe-inspiring and eerie. The magic held inside the sacred structures, which extend far, far beyond the more widely visited circles, is quite something to behold. I have written of this before in posts that speak of the magic, and also of the deep longing and sense of home I feel in these sacred places. Living in New Hampshire, where the land, itself, is no less ancient, but the magic has always felt more illusive and gentle, at best, I have recently made a vow with myself to find it. It seems necessary, vital almost.

A couple of weeks ago, I hiked Mt. Cardigan with a friend of mine. Being a long distance runner, who regularly runs 50 miles through mountainous terrain for pleasure, she does not adhere to a leisurely walking pace. Not that walking up a mountain is all that leisurely, but you can understand that it would not be particularly easy to pause and look. To really take in the surroundings, and the feel of land. Not that I had told her I wanted to. We were here to hike, and so we did. Besides, it was a beautiful day and the mountain trail was filled with people.

I would have to wait until we reached the summit to stop and take note. Although it was a beautiful, partly sunny day, it was very windy on the top of the mountain, whose granite peak is exposed to the element in a way that leads one feeling uncomfortable and a bit raw. Like you could blow over the edge if you didn’t watch your step. There is also nowhere to really sit, comfortably. But we made do, finding a fairly sheltered cove where we could eat our sandwiches and chat while our behinds gradually went numb against the granite ledge.

I noticed the tiny bird from the corner of my eye almost immediately. It looked like a junco, with its white breast and gray-black over-coat, but I could not be sure. It stayed just far enough away so that it could be sure I was aware. Looking over at us often. It was the only bird, as far as I could tell, on the mountaintop, and its attention was clearly focused our way.

Because I do not see this particular friend often, and we always have a lot of catching up to do, I tried to devote my focus primarily on her, and our conversation, but the bird kept its watch, and I noted its presence from the corner of my eye. When we rose to prepare our descent, I took a photograph of our winged friend, and noted only later, what the image exposed.

Our winged friend looks out from the edge of the heart-shaped stone

A few more photographs were snapped as I tried to get a panoramic copy of the landscape around the mountain without, once again, really knowing what the images might later reveal.

The heart-stone (to the left) mirrors a heart-lake in the land below (to the right)

The truth is, it took me a couple of flips through the uploaded photographs later, to realize I had captured an image of the heart-stone with a heart-shaped lake in the distance. They are almost mirror images. The bird, it seemed from the earlier photograph, had been pointing the way. If you read any of the posts by the directors of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, this phenomenon of birds at sacred sites in the United Kingdom is not uncommon.

On the way down from Mt. Cardigan, my eye caught upon a large round boulder. “I need to take a picture,” I told my friend so she would pause. I was pretty sure I had found the guardian of the mountain. A guardian, apparently, with a sense of humor.

Although I did not get a chance to do a thorough search of the mountaintop, this boulder appeared noticeably to stand alone amid the curved, flat surface of the peak. Upon closer study of the non-cropped photograph, I noticed it had some surrounding friends.

They’re a little more challenging to see here, but one can make out faces in the raised stones, particularly the two in the foreground.

And, so it seems, I had found a bit of magic during my hike on Mt. Cardigan. To be continued, I hope…

Labor Pains

On July 6, 2017July 6, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Memoir, UncategorizedLeave a comment

A Girl Named Truth is born into the world

Who would have thought it would be the formatting that would do me in. The simple, yet seemingly impossible task of placing page numbers on the pages as they should properly appear in books. You know, with the roman numerals grandly marking the preface, and the number 1 positioned neatly at the bottom of the first page of chapter 1. Not to mention the alternating headers, with every other page marking the author name and the book’s name. Yet, the melt-down was inevitable at some point. The feeling of being so close to birthing, after having labored for so long, but still having that final lip, or hurdle, removed is something I have experienced before. And, like this birthing, it felt like a failure.

It’s all coming back to me now. The memories of trying to birth my first child into the world without help are in so many ways mirrored in this birthing of my first book. But it goes back much further in time. To the five year old child who knew with a fierce, yet secret conviction that she was here to write books. And even further, to the fetus who knew rejection before birth, and held onto the feeling long after. She holds onto it now. When we hold onto a belief, it becomes our truth, and true to form, that fetus became a child, and later an adult, who experienced multiple forms of rejection. Or so that was her perception.

This birthing has taken, in essence, my lifetime to date. It is my story of truth and all the entanglements that have had to be unwoven, then rewoven in new form, to get there. It took me many years to write and rewrite. Over and over again, in an effort to birth a perfect form, while knowing that perfection is impossible to achieve. It took the acceptance of failure, or at least failure in the form I had always imagined. To set aside the dream of having one’s book accepted and published by a “real” publisher is something I’ve had to accept, only I realize now that I have not fully accept this, which feels like another huge form of rejection. It feels like a failure as a writer, especially perhaps, one who has an MFA. You see, we writers who have been trained to be writers, are conditioned to believe that you are not a real, credible writer, unless you obtain a “real” publisher to support your work.

So that is something else I need to let go of, along with the notion that I have no idea what will happen after I do get over the last, seemingly insurmountable, hurdle to self-publish my book. There is, of course, the possibility of another failure, or at least in my perception, of the book, once birthed, not making its way out into the world. I’m not going to lie, having only a couple of dozen copies of the book purchased will feel like a failure, if that is its fate. Yet, birth it I must. I know I have no choice. It is the fetus, now formed into a full-term baby, pushing its way out of the birthing canal. I can feel its pull to get out of me. It squirms with release, yet there is a lip that pushes against it, holding it back, for now.

The Eagle’s Return

On June 13, 2017June 13, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections, Uncategorized3 Comments

The eagle has returned, although I imagine it has never left. Once again it makes its presence known at a time when I feel the calling to find the power within. An ambiguous unease has been setting in, and there is no clearly definable reason why. I have come to accept this feeling as the soul preparing me to shift into the unknown. This takes courage and surrendering, and more than an ounce of trust. It takes a complete giving into the unraveling and the revealing of what is waiting to emerge behind the familiar. The unknowing is what unsettles. The mind likes to prepare and to plan. It likes to play the part of control, but the heart is telling me to let go.

So eagle has appeared again. I see its white head with golden eyes penetrating the walls of reluctance. There is no yielding to its stare. It is stern, yet it is not unkind. I feel love and strength in its presence; an unwavering devotion to its cause, which is to guide the unfolding.

It is a silent and still witness. The language of the soul reads no words. The test is in the knowing, the feeling, and the ultimate translation by a mind that becomes the willing servant to the soul’s awakening.

Where the Lichen Weeps on Stones

On June 8, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Animal Messengers, Dreams, Gaia & Elementals, Poems, Uncategorized8 Comments

Where the Lichen Weeps on Stones

HordronCircle — Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

In a land before time

we remembered the curve of the Earth

and how it mirrored the heavens

Stars gazed past sight to the place of no mind

thoughts were eclipsed by the moon and the rocks reflected light

You walk to remember

to bring back hope and also sorrow

which must rise through the bracken to be freed

Long buried in forgetting

the hold of fear was strong

it held fast the magic of the land

that longs to breathe love

Beneath the hills, the bear sleeps to awaken the raven

a reunion of Earth and sky

while the river carries hope

in its struggle to move past time

Breathe with me

the fey wait at the edge of the circle

their white bodies move with the grass

Join your hands with theirs, again

and open the womb to life

The rainbow crystal is but a seed…

To read more about the story behind this poem, please visit: Keeping a Promise by Sue Vincent and The Raven Crystal , an earlier post of mine written after a visit to Hordron in the Peak District of England.

The ‘Village’ and its occupants

On June 8, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

The scene of the summer Silent Eye workshop promises a marvelous adventure. Read on here:

Source: The ‘Village’ and its occupants

Living with Spirit

On June 5, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Energy Healing, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections, Uncategorized2 Comments

I wasn’t a child who saw ghosts, or maybe I was, but I don’t remember ever seeing a specter. I talked to fairies, but I don’t remember them talking back. I looked for winged beings in pools of sunlight, and peered in search of their forms under tiny white flowers, but I don’t remember seeing them. I didn’t go to church, and knew very little about religion. Despite growing up in an atheist household, I held within me an innate knowing that Life was not a mere compilation of flesh and bones.

Still, if you had known me before the age of around 25, you would likely be surprised with the turn my life has taken. Or, maybe you wouldn’t be. I went from adopting my childhood teachings that anyone who claimed to talk to spirits, or see them, was a fraud, to thinking in my early adult years that so-called psychics, mediums and those who can be grouped into the woo-woo category, are just that, a bit woo-woo. Despite this, for the last decade or so, I have been traveling, quite willingly down the path of Living with Spirit.

I now believe, with every fiber of my being, that Living with Spirit is the very essence of Life itself. We all do it, whether we are aware of it or not.

Sprit is our essence. It moves through all Life. The blade of grass is sustained with the same Life Force Energy that courses through you and me. The only difference may be that the blade of grass, or the butterfly that lands upon it, accepts this as Truth, whereas you and I may doubt the very essence of our existence.

So what does Living with Spirit mean? It is, in essence, just that: the state of being open to the awareness of the energy that moves through you, and is constantly trying to communicate with you. You may call it the Divine, God, Soul, your Higher Self, etc. It is all of the Whole that is the Source of all Life. It can be expressed outwardly in a myriad of forms. It can take on many aspects, as life does here on Earth. These aspects have been given names such as Spirit Guides, Angels, Archangels, Animal Guides, and Light-beings. Just as Source is called God, Allah, Krishna, Shiva, etc. We open ourselves to Spirit in the way that works best for us. Some of us hear, see, or feel Sprit, while some of us just know of its ever-constant presence.

Although I do not believe we are all here to be mediums, healers or physics, I believe these gifts are within all of us, in the myriad forms they can take. A gifted painter channels spirit through her mind and body, just as the writer does, and the healer. As does the olympian and the mathematician. The more we get out of the way, and allow our hearts to receive and send, the closer we are open to Source, and the wisdom it encompasses.

I believe that we are all more alike than we are different. That we are all a part of the energy of Source, and that our journeys ultimately lead us back to this Source. I believe that it can take many lifetimes, and although we all come from and are a part of the same Source, we are not all here to walk the same path to get back Home. To live the individual journey with Spirit, though, is Life at its very essence.

Alethea channels spirit through writing and healing. To learn more about Alethea and Inner Truth Healing, please visit: https://aletheakehas.com

I protest #InternationalChildrensDay

On June 1, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Uncategorized4 Comments

In honor of the children who suffer and are less fortunate, please read:

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

I protest.

I protest against the poverty and hunger in which so many children are forced to live by failing societies where greed is an economic norm. In the UK, alone, one in four children officially live in poverty… yet it is relative poverty. In many countries, poverty is the norm and means utter deprivation of even the most basic necessities. Every ten seconds, a child dies from hunger and its consequences. Almost nine hundred children die every day because they have no access to clean water.

I protest against the denial of medical care to any child. Every year, over 13 million children less than 5 years die from illnesses which could have been avoided or treated.

I protest against eager minds denied education in a world where so many have access to so much. Over a hundred million children, the adults of our own future, are growing…

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What lies beyond fear

On May 20, 2017May 20, 2017 By Alethea KehasIn Dreams, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Two nights ago, I dreamed about disappearing. I was focused only upon point eight on a triangle, and each time I stepped on it, I would disappear. Over and over again, I stepped and disappeared, as the night progressed. Where I went, I cannot tell you, only that it was not of this world. Of this I was sure. Point eight was a portal. A seemingly impossible point on a three-sided triangle that opened the gateway to another realm. It was only when I woke, and the rational mind took over, that I questioned my journey.

A triangle has three points, and not eight.

Or is that the point? Can it be a coincidence that I was sure I was on point eight each time I woke? That each time I was pulled back, the number of infinity lingered inside of my mind, as well as the brilliant white light of the point on the triangle?

ufo-2147931_640 — Image courtesy of Pixabay

Last night, or rather this morning, I dreamt of waves. I stood before an ocean of water, which grew with each pulse. I stood with fear.

Come and get me, I told it. I am not afraid of you.

Over and over again the water threatened to over-take me.

Go ahead, I told it, I am not afraid.

The final surge of blue loomed above me and lingered as though daring me to observe its power. Asking me to look at the full force of what I had dared the water to bring to me. So I looked. With my eyes I travel the mountain of liquid blue until it crested into a wave several feet above my head. Here I looked into the center, which swirled into an eye. There’s the portal, I realized. Go ahead, take me inside.