And The Truth Shall Set You Free: Breaking The Spell of Lies: Part 1

imageThe truth is such an interesting thing. Some people seek it, while others avoid it whenever possible. I’ve never understood that. Incarnating as a psychic, I could never understand when I was little, why people lied to me about anything. It was extremely puzzling, until I was old enough to figure out that not everybody could see what I could see. What was even more difficult for me to understand was my bone deep visceral reaction to lies. Everything that makes me what I am, a Mage, a Mystic, a Sorceress, activates. My body vibrates with readiness. I come to full alert, waiting. My Power Animals, especially my snake, dragon, and dog medicine are activated. All of the magical energy within me makes itself available, putting me into a state of high situational awareness. Why? Let’s look at what a lie is, and what it does.

Nikola Tesla famously said that ” everything is energy, frequency, and vibration.” From a metaphysical perspective this is true. The energy around truth is always positive and life affirming. The energy around lies is always negative and destructive. To lie is to steal. A lie is a manipulative strategy to get what one wants, at any cost. A lie steals Free Will away from the person being lied to, because your choice is made while believing what is being told to you. Lies steal time, Qi, vital life-force spent investing in people or situations we would never have invested our energy in had the person lying to us been honest with us. It is the worst kind of violation, that betrayal of trust, the betrayal of our own capacity to trust OURSELVES, going forward. As a healer, I hear this all the time, people doubting themselves after realizing they had been lied to. Questions like “How could I have been so blind? How could I have missed what was happening? ” “How can I trust myself to make the right decisions going forward”? ┬áStealing a person’s Sacred right to trust is against every spiritual law that there is. Manipulating energy to get what one wants is a form of black magic. It overlays a bubble of illusion around the Aura of the person being lied to, until they can recognize the lie and get free. This bubble saps and weakens the energy body, eventually weakening the physical body, as well. It can harm the emotions, over time, creating depression, grief, and sadness. It is paralyzing and numbing.

There are all kinds of lies. Racism is a lie. Misogyny is a lie. Radical ideologies are lies. Cults are based on lies. Even more subtle are the lies some parents tell their children, things like “you are too sensitive”, or “lazy”, or “selfish”, or any host of other beliefs about that soul, and how it should be different than how it is, undermining the authentic self. We are all bombarded by lies, from day one. Healing from that is the invitation. Breaking free from the brainwashing, the spell, is our goal.

It has been said that everybody lies. I think that is only true if you factor in denial. Denial is a protective mechanism created by the subconscious mind to protect the self from a reality too painful to be dealt with at that moment in time. It is more of an avoidance of the truth than a lie. The kind of lies that I catagorize as black magic are conscious lies. Lies used to protect the self from consequences, or lies used to achieve a specific agenda. Denial is not black magic. While avoiding reality has negative results in the end, with soul lessons that need to be learned around self-abandonment, it does not have the same level of Karma that black magic, the intentional manipulation of another soul, has. Lies are a binding, a type of containment system. The person telling the lie has an INTENTION. That intention is to manage the person or persons being lied to, TO BIND THEM, to control them. That intention is to manipulate the outcome to conform with the liars own interests. That is what a spell is, using words, with intention, to manipulate reality. A spell can be positive, where it is rooted in love and a desire to heal, or it can be negative, where it is rooted in fear, greed, or a desire to control. When a person lies to achieve their desired outcome by deception, that is black magic.

I consider the Throat Chakra to be one of the most powerful of all of the seven Chakras. The power to create reality through the spoken or written word is staggering. Achieving mastery over the Throat Chakra, using language that is loving and life-affirming is always the goal on a spiritual path. Rejecting the temptation to use words that are hurtful or shaming, including speaking words that are true, that the other person has not asked for, and is not ready to hear, is also part of spirituality. Using the truth as a weapon is not honorable. People can unwittingly create more negative Karma with the misuse of the Throat Chakra than any other Chakra.

Now, how do we break free of the energetic fallout of lies? How do we shatter the spell? We shatter the spell by invoking spiritual truth. One of our greatest Master teachers taught: “And the Truth shall set you free.” No lie, no spell, no matter how often repeated, can stand against the truth, because spiritual truth is a vibration of light and love. Love is the ultimate healing principle. Lies are born out of fear, and fear only has the power we choose to give it. A powerful affirmation for healing would be: ” I am always, in every moment, surrounded by the light of Divine Truth. That Truth is that I am one with the Creator, I am one with Divine Love. All illusions or beliefs to the contrary are now destroyed, returning to the nothingness from whence they came. All negative influences, seen or unseen, known or unknown, are now removed from me and I go free to receive the love, the abundance, the joy, the blessings that the Universe has held in store for me. I walk in beauty and have perfect faith that this is so. I am restored, I am made whole, under grace, in my true state of Divine Perfection now.”

Part of my journey of healing has been about acceptance of a soul’s right to remain cloaked in illusion, to willingly embrace the lies told to them by others because they desperately need to believe them. As an Empath, I have struggled with stepping forward on my own path, when that act of stepping forward seems like an abandonment of the soul choosing to remain in pain. Merlin has reminded me that the Earth Plane is a classroom, a dream, and in every moment each soul remains a child of God, loved and safe. He reminds me that believing what my human eyes are showing me about someone’s experience is THE LIE THAT I HAVE TO OVERCOME, to break free of. I see that now with greater clarity than I ever have before, and it brings me peace. I feel free of the urge to push truths upon others, truths made clear through psychic insights or visions, that could be helpful if they had been invited or welcomed, but instead create nothing but resentments because they have not been.

Merlin’s description of me as a Mage is as a War Mage. His description of himself is as a scientist, a scholar. Our relationship spans lifetimes. He has described a War Mage as a Mage walking the Path of the Sword, the Sword being the Sword of Truth. It has always looked to be made of light, when I see it in a vision. In my work with clients, I use it to cut through the illusions projected onto them by others, mirroring for them the light and beauty within them, that is what they truly are.

I have always embraced my fierceness, my fearlessness as a champion for the innocent, a voice for the voiceless. I love what I do. I am honored and humbled by the trust given to me by those who work with me. My invitation, spiritually, is to accept. To accept that some souls lie. Some souls choose no growth in this incarnation, and choose to repeat destructive patterns over and over. Being a War Mage means I know how to fight for a soul. What it has also meant, until now, is that I don’t know how NOT to fight. How to let go. How to walk away. Perhaps it is time for me to learn that, and to teach it to others like myself. Warriors on the front lines of an ageless battle between the Light and the Dark. May this teaching bless all who read it, especially the unidentified War Mages who have been fighting for their loved ones over the course of their entire lives. I send you my gratitude and my love. You are all precious to me. Today, let’s learn together. Let’s learn to accept. Let’s learn to let go. It’s okay to do that. I have it on very good authority that the world is in good hands. Blessings, Judith

Nardo: A Love Story

image image imageOver the course of my life I have been blessed with the friendship and the love of many wonderful beings, both two-legged and four-legged. One of the great loves of my life was Nardo, my seventeen hand Hanoverian Grand Prix dressage horse. I’ll never forget the first time we met. My riding coach had been looking in Europe for a horse for me. One day he called me up and said, your horse just became available. Meet me in Massachusetts to look at him. So, off we went. When we arrived at the facility, my coach was standing next to the most imposing being I had ever seen. Jet black, huge, with eyes like an eagle. Fierce expression. Kind of scary, actually. I trusted my coach, so we tacked him up, and they brought him into the indoor arena, and I got on. Well. I had ridden a number of horses in my life, including my thoroughbred. I had been on a number of trained dressage horses. This horse made all of them feel like going from a jeep with four flat tires to a Rolls Royce. I had never experienced anything remotely like him. The sheer power of him, the grace, was unbelievable. He was an internationally famous competition horse, having been competed by the German Silver Medalist, winning 72 Grand Prix competitions in Germany. That’s a lot. There was no doubt in my mind that this was my horse. We bought him. That began the most incredible love affair of my life.

Dressage is an enormously demanding sport, the training of both the horse and rider is arduous. I worked out, and did weight training to strengthen my body. Horses are big animals, about 1500 lbs. Riding a horse is not like riding a bicycle. A bicycle can’t decide to take off with its rider. Bucking. Riding at this level was a huge commitment of time, energy, and money. One I was prepared to make. Even though I was working in the restaurant business seven days a week, I could get to the barn at 10 every day to ride.

What very few people knew about at that time in my life was what was happening to me in my marriage. I have shared openly that I am a survivor of domestic violence. I want to be careful about how much I share in terms of details, to avoid triggering anyone reading my posts who may still have unhealed trauma. Suffice it to say that it is a miracle that I am still on the planet. The abuse was both physical and emotional. Going to the barn every day was my sanctuary, my safe place.

When I first got Nardo, I sent him up to Maine, to my coach, until I could take ten days off to go up to learn how to ride him. When I arrived, my coach sat me down for a talk. He told me that Nardo, while being very well trained, was also, in his opinion, extremely dangerous. He told me not to go into his stall without a whip, because he was likely to attack me. Whoa. Oh boy. Even my vet felt that way. During the pre-purchase exam, he called me, and asked me if I was sure I wanted to buy Nardo. He said he didn’t want to get too close to him, but would X-Ray his feet as long as two grooms were holding him.

Now, as a battered woman, there was no way in hell I was bringing a whip into a stall with a horse. Not happening. On the other hand, I’m not stupid. Big horse, lots of teeth, big hooves, equals serious injuries or worse. My solution: Food. When it came time to groom him, I brought a big leather satchel in with me, full of grooming supplies, plus carrots, apples, peppermints and sugar cubes. That first day, we sized each other up, him glaring at me suspiciously, me inching my way into the stall. He bared his teeth at me and lunged. I was ready. I shoved a carrot into his mouth. He stood there with the carrot sticking out of his mouth like a cigar, blinking. I could hear him thinking. ” This is not how it goes. I bite you, you hit me, it’s war.” Me: ” Dude. Sorry. I’m not doing that. Want a mint?” He was puzzled, but ate the carrot. I gave him an apple, next. Then I put the open satchel on the floor next to him. He stuck his head in it, and I proceeded to groom him. By the third day, I could walk in and put the satchel down, and he went right for it, stuffing his face.

As time went on, it got better. He stopped threatening me, but didn’t fully trust me not to hit him or hurt him. Then he got sick. He impacted. ( Think very serious, painful constipation bordering on obstruction, sometimes necessitating surgery). The vet was called, he was hooked up to an I.V., to hydrate him, plus some pain medications were given. I would not leave him. I sat outside his stall on a milk crate for about six hours. The door was open. Then it happened. He eased forward, grabbing my sweater over my shoulder, and held on. He leaned his head on me, and sighed. He completely relaxed. He got it. He had a mom. Someone who loved him. Someone who would never betray his trust. Ever. We stayed like that, just the two of us, alone in the barn. It was a turning point for him. He let me in. This fierce being, who had never been able to trust humans, trusted ME. I was humbled.

From that point on, when I arrived at the barn he would make that soft nicker that they do. The only way he could show his affection was to head-butt me across the stall. I could hug him, and he would grudgingly tolerate it. To a point. If I held on for too long, I would hear him say, ” Okay. That’s enough. Let go. Show a little dignity, already”.

By that time, I had gotten a divorce. I was in therapy, processing a lot. I had serous PTSD from the abuse. I cried a lot, had flashbacks and nightmares. And every day I went to the barn. And every day he was waiting for me. And slowly, a little at a time, he rebuilt me. He gave me back my self-respect. He helped me find my warrior woman again. I realized I didn’t need a softer, sweeter horse. The warrior in him pushed the warrior in me to come alive. He was my best friend. I could tell him everything. I could lean on him and cry, if I needed to. Or I could get up on him, and together we could fly. The power under me was phenomenal. He was thunder. He was lightning. He was a dragon in the body of a horse, and I became a dragon rider, because of him.

He was never tame. He was trained, yes, but his spirit remained wild. He helped me to reclaim my wildness. I realized that like him, I had been beaten, but not broken. That, like him, my spirit was still wild. Like him, I was the thunder, the Lightning, the storm. The dragon.

Nardo lived to be 30 years old. We had 16 years together. 16 years of joy, laughter, and love. He is always with me, every day of my life. I miss you, dude. I love you. Thank you for saving me.

 

Just A Few More Photos Of The New Arrivals From the Show

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Citrines

Citrines

imageWow. The past few days have been intense, work-wise, while I have been unpacking and arranging a whole truckload of new inventory. My daughter made a second trip back to the Gem and Mineral Show yesterday, and picked up a huge Quartz Point for me that I had been lusting after. It is 18 1/2″ tall, and 46 lbs. These really big ones are getting harder to find. I am so excited about what we found. I’m taking the day to rest, but will begin listing the new things this week, I promise.