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Posts Tagged ‘imagination’

#TheBlogThatWasn't

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“In all the frustration and confusion of life, just take a moment and smile; everything will work out for the best”- Unknown author
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Three hours ago I started a blog. It doesn’t take that long to get it written, proofed and scheduled for publishing. So what happened tonight to cause this huge delay? Why, none other than the new computer. It’s probably just as well that it is impossible to strangle a computer, although I’m sure it could be a reasonably good flying object. ……

”Excuse me Ma’am, but did you just witness an unidentified flying object travelling past your living room window?”

Reply: “Umm, err, well, no not really. There was a flicker at the corner of my eye, but I really couldn’t tell you what it was.”

No, of course not. Who would want to admit that it was a low flying computer flung with great venom for failing to supply – a connection to the internet!

I have been known to be guilty of impatience. I have been known to occasionally have a little flash of temper if things go awry too often. I can sulk like the best if the occasion warrants it, but there is something about a computer that refuses to connect to the internet which can make my blood boil. After all, that’s what the wretched thing has been designed to do. It is no longer a glorified typewriter, although I have to admit I wouldn’t mind a simple typewriter occasionally.  But this is a “state of the art” new computer, with all the added gadgets and gee gaws some computer nerdy person has been able to think up. It is its prime purpose, to connect the unwary to the internet, to be embroiled in heated debate over the merits of light or dark chocolate.

It has even been known to waste time by ensnaring the unwary into political rambunctious behaviour which frequently ends in persons being ejected from certain ‘prestigious’ groups. It hasn’t yet been accused of causing a gun fight at dawn or pistols at six paces and I’m sure that given time we’ll see the computer equivalent. If I look, and I’m sure not very hard, I’ll find games somewhere that will allow me to do just that.

However, if I can’t connect to the internet and do what must be done or what I want to do, then the very least it can offer me is the chance to say, “Beam me up Scotty”. Then I can away to a distant galaxy where no-one needs to do the washing or the ironing and no-one ever seems to get dirty or have showers, although now that I think about it, I’m sure I saw someone on Star Trek with a strategically draped towel at one stage. I’m not certain which “star date” they’re in at present.

Perhaps even better would be a hypnotic whirling light which transports me through a magical time warp to the Scottish highlands in the seventeenth century for a romp through the heather. Although that may not be such a good idea. I have a notion I may have read that women were supposed to be quiet back in those days and that would be a cruel and unusual punishment.

Aha! I knew this would happen. After finally giving up the idea of being able to get my planned blog done and amusing myself with some light hearted rambling, my computer has decided to play with me after all. Connection achieved. A satisfied smile lingers briefly around my mouth but it’s far too late. I’m tired and I need my sleep if I want to regain my health and sanity. Well, one out of three isn’t such a bad deal, is it?

#TheBlogThatWasn't

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I’ll keep my health and sanity for tonight, and the computer can retain its connection to itself until tomorrow, when I will give it a strong talking to in the vain hope that it has gained some ‘artificial intelligence’ overnight, and we can achieve a suitable working relationship. Harmony reigns supreme for the time being.

Good night all, or Good day. Perhaps a simple, enjoy yourself now, whatever takes your fancy. The serious Susan will return tomorrow for her scheduled blogging.

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”
Epicurus

Blessings, Susan ♥

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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#Which way Now?

Celtic Goddess Epona… Facebook.com

“Finding oneself and one’s path is like waking up on a foggy day. Be patient, and presently the fog will clear and that which has always been there can be seen. The path is already there to follow”
Rasheed Ogunlaru, Soul Trader: Putting the Heart Back into Your Business
“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it, Do not believe simply because it has been handed down for many generations. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumoured by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is written in the Holy Scriptures.  Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of teachers, elders , or wise men. Believe only after careful observation and analysis, when you find that it agrees with reason, and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all. Then accept it and live up to it.”
Buddha

There comes a time, in everyone’s life, when the questions far outweigh the answers.  This is the time when we need to look to other than the traditional fields for our answers. In many cases it may be that the answer lies in the most unimaginable places, within ourselves. Even then, they may be found not in our logical and rational mind.

We reach a time when we have to relinquish the hold on all that is safe and known and take a leap into the great unknown in search of these answers. It is only the “great unknown” because we have turned our back on the unknown, the vastness of our existence for all that is safe and comfortable. It may be we have no wish to stretch our minds into areas we are unfamiliar with.

Yet, it is within these unfamiliar landscapes that our minds and hearts open. Our souls flower and the heady scent we perceive is the beauty and grandeur of our Spiritual legacy. It is the place where colours have a more vibrant hue, the scents have a more delightful aroma and the images we see are not only more ‘fantastical’ they are also more familiar than anything we may dream in our everyday lives.

What has happened is that our incredible minds have opened to wonders we once had and which we have forgotten but are now returning. If we are open to the idea that we can be more than we are now, we can be all that it is possible for us to be. We can become limitless instead of limited!

Within the limitless abilities we can find are the abilities to cure the ills of the world, if we are willing to accept them. These are strange ideas but ones I feel comfortable and happy to accept as my birthright as a Spirit living in a physical body. The ills we are plagued with are manifestations within the physical body. Therefore, accepting and learning to use the abilities given on the Spiritual plane, we are able to ‘cure’ or eradicate these ailments, if our Spirit and purpose are in alignment.

These may be strange thoughts, alien thoughts, but I hope they may resonate within you. I hope that they may find a home in your consciousness and allow us all to move forward, enlightened and lightened of the heaviness of this physical plane.

“Don’t ask what the world needs – ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Harold Thurman Whitman

Blessings, Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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image from bigoldhouses.blogspot.com

In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action. I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it. Michelangelo

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England has more than a small number of old houses, mansions, priories, castles and so on, many having their own tales of haunting or ghosts. Whilst I have my own experiences of wandering through these places, including my feelings walking round Port Arthur, this tale is purely anchored in a vivid dream. All I will say is that the house of my dream is one I ‘know’ and have ‘been to in the distant past’ even though I cannot recall the details of it yet.

It was drawing close to winter, the weather had turned cold and a keen wind had whistled around the house for days.  It found any small crack or crevice to keen through and bring goose-flesh to your skin. It was easy to hear strange noises or perhaps whispered voices once the sun had set.

I was at my babysitting job on this bitterly cold Saturday night. I had stayed up late watching the old horror movies starring Vincent Price and Peter Cushing. They seemed perfectly suited for such eerie surrounds. When I was taken home again  had to make my way to the back of the house to get in. Behind me was the skyline of the old woods, trees writhing in the wind and bats silently flitting between the scudding clouds.  I was in a hurry to get inside.

image from theinsideofmyheadd.wordpress.com

It was late and I was grateful to climb between my warm sheets and pull my eider down under my chin. I was sure I would be asleep in minutes. Yet from there I slipped into  a strange land somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, or so I thought.

I saw this old house, so familiar and yet I knew, in one part of my mind, that I had never been there, yet. It had a dark and brooding feel to it, as though it had been long-deserted and had an unhappy history. I heard footsteps, a careful measured tread and with some surprise realised they were mine. I walked up the long and overgrown driveway towards the front door of the house. It felt as though the house was waiting… for me or someone else, I really don’t know.

There were six steps leading up to the front porch. The scroll work railing around the patio was rusted and dark, clinging vines wrapped around it all withered and dry, rustling eerily in the wind. The house had been empty for years, windows broken, boarded over now with jagged edges, the holes gaping into the blackness beyond.

My footsteps creaked on the wooden portico as I approached the door. The wind had picked up in intensity and the door creaked loudly as it moved slightly on its rusted hinges. Without conscious thought I saw my pale hand reach out to slowly push the door open. The screech of rusted metal protesting was loud in my ears and a nearby owl hooted as it flew off into the trees.

I did not want to enter that house so why were my feet pulling me forward?  Some intangible force seemed to be drawing me inside, deeper into the dark recesses of the house. The wind whistling through those jagged holes in the windows blew dried leaves rustling across the floor as the door opened further.  It made a sound like shuffling feet creeping across the floor.

image from cindi.ccfoss.com

I moved slowly forward, towards the old staircase. I could see it would have been beautiful when the house was in its hey day, but now was as broken down as the rest of the house.  As I stood there at the foot of the staircase I thought I heard a whispered voice calling from above. I couldn’t make out what it said and my tongue was clinging to the roof of my dry mouth. My legs had turned to jelly yet were rooted to the spot.

I hadn’t noticed that the little light which had been coming in through the door and windows had grown less. The wind was howling more strongly and I could hear thunder crashing off in the distance. Each time it sounded a little closer and the old house seemed to shake in the rumbling echoes.  Lightning suddenly flashed off in the distance, throwing an eerie light into the house.

The moaning of the wind now began to sound like the moaning of someone in pain, a sound which was getting louder by the minute. Another crash of thunder seemed to rattle the old house to its very foundations and the following lightning flash flared brightly. In the peculiar afterglow I thought I saw a figure silhouetted tat the top of the staircase. A woman in a long dress seemed to be staring down at me.

The crash of thunder pealed directly overhead followed immediately by the whip crack of lightning. Between the wind howling through the windows, the deafening noise of thunder and actinic flare of lightning the shape coalesced into the form of a woman, apparently floating down the stairs. I certainly could hear no footfalls.

Whether I could hear anything or not I no longer wished to be there. Without conscious thought, without moving I found myself once more tucked up in my bed, breathing heavily and drenched in perspiration, my heart hammering to its own beat.

I suppose one should expect strange dreams if one is watching horror movies! After all, it was just a dream – wasn’t it?

I have never seen this house and yet I know it. Another lifetime perhaps, only time may tell, it felt real at the time. I could smell the lightning and the dead leaves, the musty old house. I could hear the wind  and thunder, footsteps and was it a voice moaning? At the time it was real as all dreams or otherworldly experiences are real. It is up to you to decide. Whatever lesson I have to learn from this is still to be revealed.  Perhaps the message was for you?

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image from style160.blogspot.com

“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
Albert Einstein

Blessings  Susan x

© Susan Jamieson

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I often stop and wonder why

I love to lay here watchingSunrise Aug 2. 3 (Copy)

High up in the sky

I find it comforting

Staring so high

Upon the clouds so different

All floating by

Thin wispy streamers

Heading somewhere

Or candyfloss tufts

Just wandering by

Coloured by the sunDSCN2266 (Copy)

Pink, lemon, blue or white

And big boiling thunderheads

Ponderously hanging there

Waiting with glee to share

Rain, hail or snow

Upon my hair

All without a single care.

Sunset 23 June. 8 (Copy)

“O it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please.”    ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

As children we spend hours gazing at the clouds, making stories of knights and dragons and castles with our imagination. There were angels and fairies and faces of all kinds. Summertime fun was to lay in the sun and watch the world drift by making stories of danger and romance and saving the day or being rescued. It was a world and time of possibilities, all linked to our imagination.

We seem too busy now to take five minutes and turn our face to the heavens. What delights we have denied ourselves in the name of being adults.  It is a pastime free for any to share, age is no barrier. I have watched the changing heavens and been mesmerised by the beauty, the colour, and seen the faces return for my imagination to soar. You can too.

I wish everyone “Happy sky gazing and storytelling”, a free gift with blessings for all.

Ciao, Susan x

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“My nightly craft is winged in white, a dragon of night dark sea.
Swift born, dream bound and rudderless, her captain and crew are me.
We’ve sailed a hundred sleeping tides where no seaman’s ever been‘found’
And only my white-winged craft and I know the wonders we have seen.”
Anne McCaffrey, Dragonsong

I have a confession to make, I love Dragonlance by Margaret Weiss and Tracy Hickman, and have since I read the first book many years ago.  I ‘found’ this wonderful world at a time when I needed a place to hide, a place which was so far from the real world that I could lose myself entirely within its pages and lose track of time and even place. After I finished the first one, which was the special edition omnibus of the first three novels I was so ‘hooked’ on magic and dragons, good and evil, elves, dwarves, knights and wizards that I was drawn like iron to a lodestone to get my next ‘fix’.

Fortunately for me the books are based on the game Dungeons and Dragons and there were many more books. Some were written by Weis and Hickman and many others by different creators of parts of the world of Krynn where the story was set. There were back stories and side stories and future stories, in fact the plot lines went in so many directions you could meet up with well-loved characters when least expected.

For a long time I ‘lived’ in this strange half-life of magic where good overcame evil and the wrongs of the world were eventually righted, even if the world had been brought to the brink of disaster. I have often wondered since then why it had such an appeal. In essence it was quite simple.

I believe in right and wrong, that people are inherently good but there are bad people around and that bad things happen to good people. There has to be a ‘force’ for good, which is a way to become more than we are. We have to be able to evolve so that we can make our world the place it can be, in all its beauty. We must be able to not only ‘do’ magic but to ‘be’ magic too. We need to be able to reach our highest potential; to be our own heroes and heroines, or our shining spirits after our trials and lessons.

Are there dragons? Oh I do believe so. I believe in Merlin and King Arthur after all, and I know that Merlin is in his Crystal Cave with his dragon sleeping until he is needed once more.  Being born in England, the land of St. George and the Dragon and so many myths and legends, what else would you expect.

There is so much more to life than what your five senses can recognise. There is the entire universe of your imagination which has no boundaries.  When you allow your sense to expand and your boundaries to disappear then magic truly does happen.  It is at this point where realities collide, the unseen becomes commonplace, all that can be imagined is not simply possible but absolutely real. It is the place where we can be all that we can possibly be.

This is the world I know is real. We can be so much more than we currently are. There are things we, as human beings, as our spirits grow, will be able to do in years to come that if we knew know, we would wonder why we hadn’t been doing it long ago. It will seem like we are living in a world of magic and wonder and eventually we will accept is as a matter of normalcy. I wish it were here now!

Where did I put my wand?

“And though I came to forget or regret all I have ever done, yet would I remember that once I saw the dragons aloft on the wind at sunset above the western isles; and I would be content.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Farthest Shore

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“I desired dragons with a profound desire. Of course, I in my timid body did not wish to have them in the neighborhood. But the world that contained even the imagination of Fáfnir was richer and more beautiful, at whatever the cost of peril.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien

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May magic dust be sprinkled into your life.

May you dream of magic and dragons, of fairies and elves.

Bright Blessings and Waking Dreams. Susan   xx

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“Come faeries, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame.”   William Butler Yeats

If I could explain the reason why I’m drawn away from life

And choose instead to spend my time

Alone inside my head

Then you would know as well as I

And this would be no riddle.

Yet I would love to know why dreams seem so real

And life appears as seen through  veil

And magic dust and fairies fly round my head and bed

When the man in the moon is talking quietly with the lady in the stars

And the wizard of old, Yes Merlin

Is walking the earth once more.

I’m traveling along old country lanes

With wise old Merlin by my side

And I listen and learn the secrets of old

Of shape shifters, fairies, the old folk and more

And when neath the hawthorn we stop for a rest,

The wild hunt gathers and flies round us merry bent

For mischief and mayhem and stories oft sent

To frighten the fearful and travelers of Ghent.

Then unto the morning the hours have rolled by

And the magic and wonder of the fairies do fly

Deep into memory til I can see them once more

When my heart is unburdened and my eyes  no longer obscured.

There neath the bushes a fairy ring I spy

And as I lay down inside it I know we can fly

Old Merlin and fairies, and Owls, Wolf and Lynx

Pan and the wild hunt, round the moon’s halo once more.

If I could…. If I only could…. then I surely would.

(But then I know I can!)

image from apreelskyblue.wordpress.com

“My body slid from human to wolf in a crack! of black smoke. Wolf was panting and I watched frost dissipate on my hot tongue, sending tiny rivulets of steam into the air. The world was sharp and clear, and I never realized how many different colors of shadow there were. It made me savor the dark beauty of night even more.”   Heather Heffner, Year of the Wolf

There are more things to heaven and earth than we dreamed possible. Only by dreaming and believing will we see that anything is possible.

Blessings,  Susan x

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ghost lady

image courtesy of vileyonderboy.deviantart.com

“There are an infinite number of universes existing side by side and through which our consciousnesses constantly pass. In these universes, all possibilities exist. You are alive in some, long dead in others, and never existed in still others. Many of our “ghosts” could indeed be visions of people going about their business in a parallel universe or another time — or both.”                          PAUL F. ENO, Faces at the Window

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Ghosts, spirits, they conjure up so many images and thoughts that it is difficult to separate fact from fiction, and of course that all depends on which side of the fence you are on.  There are statements ranging from complete and utter faith in spirits visiting us to the polar opposite, that they are nothing but a figment of an overheated imagination, and any and all variations in between.

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I know spirits exist. I believe that death is simply a transition to another state of being which, one day I will also belong to. I also know that spirits communicate with us and if we are ‘in tune’ with the signs of their communication we understand that they are here if not seen. It can be frustrating feeling their energy present, seeing the physical demonstration of their attempts to communicate and not being able to see them.  Some of the more common signs are flickering lights for no apparent reason, lights and other electrical equipment suddenly turning on or off, especially music, things moved around the house or familiar scents which are closely associated with someone who has passed away.

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All of these signs I take as evidence of their existence would be hotly debated and debunked, if possible, by sceptics. That is their right and they are entitled to their opinion, even if I feel they are misguided. Free will gives us that choice.  However, I received proof, which I believe is incontrovertible, that spirits do exist.

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As a teenager in the UK I was fascinated by different religious beliefs, and in particular if there was anything after this life. I found it implausible that this life was all there was, and after the lights went out in this lifetime that would be it…. darkness forever. It seemed a fruitless waste of time. Reincarnation, in some form became realistic and if that was the case then why could there not be something else, those ghost sightings and stories, might they also have some truth in them? Parallel universe or dimensions, inhabiting the same time and space but out of sync with us. Anything could be possible.

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I was walking along the street leading to my home when I chanced to look up towards the house, to the bedroom window where my parents room was.  As clearly as I see ‘you’ I saw a man looking steadily out of the window. The curtains were in place and the lace was unmoved yet I could see him quite clearly. He was not anyone I knew or recognised.  My family was home, in the lounge and no-one was upstairs. So who was this mystery man?  At the time I felt uncomfortable about saying anything, knowing my three brothers would ridicule my over active imagination. Yet the thought wouldn’t go away and as I passed the door each night I could ‘feel’ a presence inside.

male ghost

image courtesy of beyond-known.com.

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I saw him many times after that, almost as if he was waiting for me to be walking up that street, the most direct route from the bus stop to home. It didn’t matter what time of the day or night it was. Even when winter fell we had a street light outside the house so the front of the house was well-lit and there he would be, clearly visible to me at least. He never moved whilst I walked along the street, and those lace curtains never moved either. As time passed his piercing stare seemed to be an invitation to step into that room – alone – and see him.  Yet the feeling of cold emanating from my parents room grew more intense as tie went by, a cold which had nothing to do with the time of day or season.   It took over a year before I ventured in there alone and then the strange occurrences came even faster. To me they were proof that I was not imagining what was happening and also that there were spirits with good and bad intentions just the same as the living.

usual image of ghosts

image courtesy of hauntedamericatours.com

This is what most people see of spirits, on my visit to Port Arthur I was able to see in my photos many such inexplicable images. My ghost on the other hand was much more solid-looking, looked very real in fact and had the ability to move things around.

“A ghost is someone who hasn’t made it – in other words, who died, and they don’t know they’re dead. So they keep walking around and thinking that you’re inhabiting their – let’s say, their domain. So they’re aggravated with you. ”    Sylvia Browne

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