People keep asking me if some kind of shift happened sometime last week, so I thought I’d respond here. Yes, in my experience, another shift occurred in the late afternoon (East Coast US time) on March 17, 2014. Though subtle, I felt it as a distinct “click,” after which long stuck things suddenly started to move in surprising ways. Others I’ve heard from began to notice the effects as last week progressed: greater fluidity of “time,” exceptionally high levels of synchronicity, a new-found sense of purpose on a much clearer life path. I realize not everyone noticed this shift, but enough people have asked me about it that a shift does seem to have occurred.
In my own life, this shift has played out in a few interesting ways. The moment of the “click,” I was sitting near a wood stove at a Starhawk’s Fifth Sacred Thing book discussion group. We went around the circle each sharing a practical inspiration from the chapters we’d read for that meeting. I mentioned finding alternative ways to reuse human “waste” so that we’re not flushing them down the toilet with pure drinking water:
“I buy manure, and yet I know David and I eat more cleanly than most of the animals whose poop we purchase to fertilize our garden. Meanwhile, Obama is selling our Great Lakes to foreign countries and corporations, and they’re trying to sell Mt. Shasta water to a corporation instead of farmers at a time of severe California drought. There may come a time in the not so distant future that we don’t want to flush drinking water down the toilet! Water is sacred.
“I think of this every single day, and I don’t even know how to bring it up in a public policy discussion. No one wants to talk about poop. In terms of preparedness, it makes good sense, too, because raw sewage is what causes cholera outbreaks after disasters. Our cities ought to have action plans even if they don’t plan to implement them until necessary, but again, how do you go to a city meeting and start talking about humanure?”
People giggled, but then the strangest thing happened. A new book group attendee revealed that she works as an engineer for the nearby City of Elkhart. She deals daily with people in charge of water and sewage. She asked for book references so that she and others could read about healthier, more Earth-friendly ways of dealing with human “waste” — preserving water, removing the need for caustic chemicals, and finding safe ways to recycle nutrients. She committed to learning about current codes and how people might go about addressing them. Although everyone had snickered a bit when I mentioned my concerns, we now all looked at each other with a Twilight Zone-esque awareness. Well, then! One of the Five Sacred Things just earned extra respect and consideration.
Other long held concerns found attention in the past week, too. We have our final Comprehensive Plan public meeting tonight, and as many as six aware people have told me they plan to attend the usually tightly managed meetings. Prior to this, I’ve been beating a lone drum that we would be wise to make certain that “sustainable development” means what we say it means rather than accepting a non-disclosed default definition from the big corporations who sponsor sustainable development, Monsanto included. (Monsanto has even gone so far as to win a “2014 sustainability award.”) Finally, some people have begun to pay a little more attention to “our” “local” “plan.”
Since last Monday, I’ve felt a sort of puffy cloud of protection around me, which has coincided with the inability of chemtrails to stick in the skies above us. I see the trails go out, but within minutes, the Sylphs fight them into wisps and tendrils.
Our evenings reveal unusually bright stars, and our air smells so much fresher than it did last March, when every day smelled (to me) like soot and chemicals.
In addition to the protected sky, I’ve felt and experienced physical protection around me. The most dramatic example happened on Saturday. I had frozen some soup in a Ball jar, which cracked in the freezer. I took it out and let it defrost in a bowl to catch the leaks. On Saturday, the liquid had all left, with just some chopped carrots, onion and celery inside the jar. For some reason, I decided to compost it and unscrewed the lid. The jar promptly exploded in my hand, as the lid seemed to be the only thing holding the pieces together. These were sharp glass shards and one hit the soft flesh between my left thumb and forefinger.
By all probabilities, I should have received a huge, possibly tendon slicing gash near the base of my thumb. Instead, I have a thin red line of unbroken skin, as if to say, “There but by the grace of God, Goddess, angels, faeries, orgonite and El Mundo Bueno, go I.” No skin broke, and on Sunday, even when I made the mistake of reaching (without looking) into the bin where I had put the broken glass, my hand survived contact with the sharp pieces. No broken skin. After the second encounter, I carefully disposed on the pieces, but both times, I felt this bubble of physical protection.
For whatever it’s worth, I’ve sensed that same protection around the world since early last week. Yes, we’ve got mudslides in Washington State, earthquakes and wars in other places, but compared to the energies that could be thrashing us right now, everything feels muted, dulled, and fizzled. I don’t know how universal this shift was, but enough people have asked me … and my own experiences have been dramatic enough … that I felt called to share.