The American Buffalo once roamed the grasslands of North America in magnificent and vast herds. They became nearly extinct by a mix of commercial hunting, and mass slaughter in the 19^thcentury and the introduction of bovine deceases from domestic cattle nearly finished them off. Fortunately they have recently made a comeback in a few national parks and reserves.

The American Buffalo is the national mammal of the United States, and so it should be.

I love to think of animals as our guides in life. We so often miss what they are trying to tell us. When we use Totem Animal Spirit, it connects us to our ancestry, the earth and the ancient symbols we’ve lost through modernism.

There’s nothing wrong with progress or modernism. It’s just not enough to fill the deep well of our consciousness that is tethered to our beginning and to the journey toward home.

As with all symbols, we have an opportunity to sit and contemplate a richer definition that can inform us in a swift and gently way, enlightening us as we sit quietly. Symbols take us into the fabric of our creativity and knowing.

Native Americans have always considered Buffalo a power animal. When we contemplate with Buffalo we are asked to walk a more sacred path and to engage with Mother Earth and Father Sky.

Buffalo brings prosperity to those that have an open heart and seek to live in harmony with all life in the universe. You really begin to know and live like Buffalo when all relationships are honored and kept as sacred and when you feel and express gratitude for all parts of your life and for all of creation.

The large head indicates great intellect and the horns reach toward the sky, hinting at a connection with higher thinking.

Buffalo will carry your burden if you are willing to give it up. The symbol of release is in the eyes of this brave and beautiful creature. Don’t hang on to what does not serve your highest good.

If you are burdened, close your eyes and see Buffalo. He/she is the symbol of caring and compassion, strength and power. You don’t need to say anything. Breathe and release. The Buffalo can carry the load. Lay it down, say thank you and carry on.

carolynstonecloud.com

“In Jewish history there are no coincidences.”

~Elie Wiesel

The history of the Jewish people is old, winding and full of life. Their history of contemplating the Divine is a deep and endless well overflowing with insight and wisdom.

Many Jews believe the Divine is so profound that uttering or writing the name of G-d does an injustice to the breadth of the existence of the same. In appreciation for their thoughtful devotion, I will honor them by also not completing a written version of the name of G-d here.

I’ve chosen to quote Elie Wiesel above because the seemingly simple statement he made goes so much further than the words he uttered.

Elie Wiesel was a Romanian born Jew. He was a Holocaust survivor. He authored some 57 books. He was a professor and political activist and a Nobel Peace Prize recipient. And those are just the tip of the iceberg.

Mr. Wiesel was not only actively involved in Jewish matters, but he spent his entire life crusading on behalf of human rights around the world. Look him up on Wikipedia. He was a sterling example of the best of the best.

Given his journey through the degradation of the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps, how is it he can say that there are no coincidences in Jewish history? What did he really mean?

Perhaps he was referencing the way a person walks on his/her path, rather than the path itself. How do we behave in difficult circumstances? When things get really tough, what is our thought process?

In the life and mind of a person of deep devotion, what’s happening is much less important that how we participate in it. How many of us are able to keep our minds focused on something so much greater than all the little pieces flying around us daily.

There must be more to circumstance than just….circumstance. What is it that is speaking through the fog of such darkness and density?

A human being like Elie Wiesel knows how to survive the worst kind of torment a person can experience. He not only survived, he came out as a man of principle, grace and goodness. He didn’t fold into the swamp of bitterness and hatred that had tortured his mind, body and soul. He didn’t give in when everything he had was taken….everything. Why?

Perhaps because he knew that there is purpose in everything. In realizing the purpose of his dark walk with the devil, he brought light to his fellow brothers and sisters around the world. His devotion and determination was palpable.

There is subtlety in his statement. How do we know when G-d is speaking to us? Look around. Don’t take anything as coincidence. It’s up to us to find the message. The Divine is only anonymous if we aren’t paying attention.

carolynstonecloud.com

“Reality for me is layers and layers. The proof is in your soul.”          

                                                                  ~ Luiz Antonio Gasparetto

I heard about Luiz Gasparetto sometime in the early 90’s. I was already working full time as an intuitive and had been exposed to many modes of divination and philosophies, all of which I found fascinating. But Luiz was something apart from all the rest.

Luiz claimed to channel great master artists such as, Renoir, DiVinci, Monet and many others. He wasn’t overly dramatic about it, though there was a bit of Cecil B. Demille in his presentation.  With eyes closed, in minutes he could create a copy of a master painting or a painting in the style of whatever artist he was channeling at the time. He even produced some of his work with his toes…really, with his feet under a table.

He was a very handsome man from Brazil. He had a sweet, gentle manner. He didn’t strut or make claims…he just painted. His mother sat beside him and held down the canvas. Someone had to hold it down because he moved with such speed.

His head would go up and down. He would lay his head on one arm while drawing or painting with the other hand. It was dazzling.  When he completed one piece he would grab it, throw it dramatically into the air and before it hit the ground he was already working on another.

What I had seen on film was so improbable that even I wondered if there was a gimmick. I put it in my satchel of miracles in the sky and didn’t think of it much.

Perhaps a year later a client of mine invited me to come and meet Luiz. She said he was going to be at a friend’s house doing an evening seminar and would I like to go.

I was a single mother of two of the world’s greatest kids and money was tight. How much it would cost to be in an intimate setting with this dynamo? I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Oh” she said, “There’s no charge. He just likes my friend and he likes doing this seminar.” I couldn’t possibly turn this one down. And by the way, I asked…what’s the seminar about? The answer came back that Luiz was going to show us how to channel the art inside. Hmm….Well I had to go anyway.

It seemed like we drove forever. It got dark and the roads got more and more narrow, and then went from blacktop to dirt-top. I have no idea where we ended up, but it was pitch black. We parked in front of a very small and simple home in a very isolated and modest neighborhood. This was not at all what I had expected given the publicity I had seen and the many television shows he had appeared on.

There were about 10 people there. The hostess had set up a 4-foot table for Luiz to work on, in a very small living room. The furniture had been pushed back to make way for folding chairs. I remember the house had small windows and wood grain paneling. It had a soft and inviting vibration. The people were quiet and kind. I looked around to see what I later learned were works of art that Luiz had done and given to the lady of the house.

On the seat of each chair were a stack of 8 by 10 papers and a box of colored pencils. I picked them up, sat down and thought to myself. “God, if these people ask me to draw it could get really sad.” But really, I just came to get a close look at Luiz.

Everyone quieted down. Luiz took his seat at the table and his mother sat near the end. I never heard her speak at all.

In his very beautiful Portuguese accent he began to speak about his work. He spoke of how he felt when the great masters would come in to channel their work through him. He said that the vibration was mighty and powerful and he was going to show us how to pull the art out of ourselves in a similar way.

He talked about humanity and philosophy and God. He was a beautiful man speaking beautiful words in a sweet and peaceful setting. I distinctly remember thinking that his goal was to get us to reach for something deep and profound inside ourselves. He was there for us because he believed in a deeper connection for us and hoped that we would reach for that through his message of inspiration. I liked him a lot. But I still didn’t want to draw. Nope.

He led us in a short meditation and then he did a demonstration. I was overjoyed because I thought perhaps he wasn’t going to create a piece and I really wanted to see that up close.

He closed his eyes and arched his head way back. His arms were outstretched and straight. His hands hovered just above the canvas resting on the table. His fingers were curved like a master pianist waiting to attack the keyboard. Suddenly he reached for the chalk on the paper and began a flurry of strokes with the chalk. I was sitting maybe 6 or 7 feet from him. His head bobbed from side to side and back and forth. His mother held tight to the canvas. The sheer force and speed of his movements would have propelled it off of the table for sure.

I couldn’t tell what the image was going to be. He was silent, but his movements were frenzied. I could see a man’s face begin to appear. His hand was all over that cloth. Back and forth, up and down. Round and round. In about 2 to 3 minutes he grabbed it and threw it over his shoulder and began another, this time with paints. He painted with his fingers, no brushes. In another flurry of energy and a sort of madness another piece of art began to appear. He reached into pots of paint, his fingers scrambled across the canvas like spiders running from fire. He continually turned his head every which way. His body was in constant motion and he never opened his eyes that I could see. Once again he snatched it, throwing this one to the side. Then he was done. Oh, I forgot to say that he also signed the original artist’s name

I wanted to jump up and scream and applaud. I started out of my seat when I realized that everyone else in the room remained still and reserved. So I backed into my seat pretending to adjust myself.

Luiz got up to go and wash his hands. I don’t remember who went to retrieve the art from the floor. It might have been his mother and the hostess of the event. When they held them up, I was looking at what seemed to be a perfect copy of Da Vinci’s self-portrait and Renoir’s Discarded Roses. I’m not an art expert, but man they looked incredible, just incredible!

Luiz came back and sat down to start the seminar portion of the evening. All I could do was stare at him and stare at what he had just produced in less than 10 minutes.

He asked us to pick up our papers and pencils. Everyone did. I didn’t want to, but I did. He told us to quiet ourselves and led us through another meditative process and then told us to more or less cut loose, let fly and create.

I looked around and saw people in various modes of what looked like very odd behavior. Heads bobbing, eyes closed and papers flying. They looked so bizarre to me. It just wasn’t the same as looking at him do the exact same thing. The woman sitting next to me was bobbing and weaving and sort of bouncing up and down in her chair. She was so serious. “Okay”, I thought. “I’ve got to get going here.”

I took the pencils from the box I had been given and began to scribble. After a minute or so, I began to have fun, although I’m sorry to say that Monet or Van Gogh did not visit me. If only. It makes me laugh when I think back about it. The room was full of shuttering forms, twisting necks and flying paper.

After a while everyone was exhausted and starting to sweat. Luzi called time. We all picked up our sheets of self-induced insanity. I surely was NOT going to show mine. I folded them up before I even looked at them. Everyone else was showing his or hers around. I saw some of them. They were…colorful. I took a quick peek at mine. I thought it mostly looked like a child’s version of stars. I like stars. Okay, that’s a stretch.

We finished the night with Luiz speaking words of inspiration and love. He encouraged us to dig into ourselves and never be apologetic for the beings that we are. For my part, I thought my work that night was pretty pitiful. But I didn’t go there for that. I went to see Luiz. His kindness and caring struck me from the start and it carried all the way through the evening.

As we all milled around and got ready to leave, I felt a presence behind me. I turned and looked up to see Luiz smiling at me. He was a very striking figure. He reached out his hand and I reached mine out and we shook hands. As he held my hand he said to me.

“Thank you for coming. I’m so happy to see you. You are a very profound lady.”

We stayed like that for a few seconds. His eyes were so deep, his true caring and kindness shone through greatly. Then he turned a walked away.

I walked out into the black cold night feeling very peaceful and deeply touched. My client and I didn’t talk much on the way home. I don’t remember the ride very well. I don’t know what happened to my “art” from that night. It seemed to disappear with the fluid experience. I sort of wish I had it now.

Luiz spent his life channeling, painting, speaking and caring for the poor in Brazil. He has lifted up many lives. He lifted me up that night. To my knowledge he used his talent for the benefit of others. He didn’t get rich. I think he sold his paintings in support of the poor in his home country.

When I decided to write this blog, I looked him up. There’s not much in English. I looked on Wikipedia and found him. It was in Portuguese. I used Google translate and learned that he died May 3, 2018 of lung cancer. I think he was a truly great being.

I don’t know if he actually channeled master artists. But I do know that is the way it came through to him. That’s what it felt like to him. And he didn’t deny or hide it. There was no attempt on his part to make it palatable to society with more acceptable or commercial phrasing. He was true to what he believed and what he experienced.

There’s so much around us that will not ever be explained. Well, maybe when we pass from here and the molds of circles and squares we are taught to accept and squeeze ourselves into no longer have meaning to us.

I know for sure that something grand lives inside of every human being. That greatness can be had here, in this place. I think that people like Luiz Gasparetto come here to show us that. He knew it and wanted to inspire it in others.

Just writing this and thinking once again about Luiz and that magical night makes me aware of it. It also makes me know that I’m wasting precious, precious time when I lose touch with it.

Start looking now for your true Self. It’s in there. Like Luiz said, “The proof is in your soul.”

carolynstonecloud.com

Selenite, Desert Rose, Satin Spar and Gypsum Fower are the four varieties of the mineral Gypsum. The four groups of the beautiful crystalline varieties of the Gypsum mineral are largely grouped together and called Selenite.

Selenite is composed of calcium sulfate dihydrate, which means that it has two molecules of water. People often confuse Selenite with selenium, believing that it Selenite contains selenium, but that is not the case.

The largest know crystals ever discovered are Selenite and the largest specimen found in the Naica Mine’s Cave in Mexico is 39 feet long and weighs 55 tons. Wow!

The etymology of this rather mystical mineral comes through the Middle East Selenite, from Latin Selenites and from Greek Selenites (lithos), which literally means moonstone or stone of the moon…Selene (Moon).

The most common type of Selenite that we see for sale is called Satin Spar. It has a silky, fibrous and translucent quality. It appears rather pearly and slightly milky. This is the Selenite that I love and feel drawn to.

Satin Spar Selenite is not very hard. As a matter of fact you can sort of peel it off with your fingernail. It is layers and layers of delicate crystal and has natural thermal insulating properties, feeling cold to the touch.

Satin Spar Selenite conducts light through its iridescent layers in a way that no other crystal can do. I find it a very absorbing experience to peer into a piece of Satin Spar Selenite. The decorative value alone stands out in a room full of other stones and crystals. It’s unique pearly opalescence and wonderful optic qualities in the shape of a wand are often referred to as a natural light wand. 

Selenite (Gypsum) is found on every continent and is the most common of all the sulfate minerals. It is often found with other minerals such as copper ores, sulfur, sulfides, sliver, iron ores, coal, calcite, limestone, dolomite and opal.

Although Satin Spar Selenite can be fashioned into shapes such as spheres and wands, it is at its best in its natural form.

The healing qualities of Selenite have long been known and the ancients believed that it waxed and waned with the moon.

Selenite is a true energy conductor. It is a mental stimulator and aids meditation, telepathy and spiritual grounding.

It is also known as the Stone Of Atlantis. It releases negative energy and is one of the few crystals that do not retain negativity. It is often used to clear and reprogram other crystals. I find it particularly powerful for clearing and reprograming if used in the light of the moon.

Its fine, thin opal like sheets seem to layer their way into the emotional self, mending old wounds and releasing an imprisoned mind.

If you go looking for a piece of Satin Spar Selenite, choose carefully. Make sure that you spend some time with it. It generates quite a lot of subtle, healing energy. Stand and look at it. Touch it. Don’t be embarrassed to stare. I assure you that it will call out to you if it is what you need. Then place it somewhere that you can see it and pass by it a often.

If you meditate, which I hope you do, hold the Selenite out in front of you with both hands. Look into it.

Let it help clear your mind. Take two or three deep breaths. When your mind feels relaxed, open and clear lay it down on your lap and continue your mystical journey. Who knows where it will take you.

Mmmmm. Wonderful!

carolynstonecloud.com

ANCIENT LANGUAGES AND SAVING ENDANGERED SPECIES

I’ve just come across the most fascinating and sort of terrifying information. Having found and interest in ancient languages I sniff around for what’s new and happening to preserve them.

If you study anything that has its roots in another language, you very quickly learn that there’s a lot lost in the translation…a lot. I study the ancient Hindu texts at the Vedanta Temple in Hollywood, CA. I know…Hollywood and ancient wisdom don’t appear to have the type of glue we would think could bring let alone hold them together…but we were wrong.

I also try to keep up on what’s happening with our overburdened and put upon environment. The use of so much plastic drives me nuts. I NEVER buy plastic bags at the market.

But now, I find that there’s a link between the tremendous loss of ancient languages and the sad disappearance of so many of Mother Earth’s precious species. And it makes all the sense in the world that the two are connected.

There are over 7,000 documented languages in the world. Depending on which study you read, 40-43 percent of those languages are threatened, endangered or on the verge of extinction. Similarly, a large portion of the world’s species is threatened

The interesting part is that a significant number of threatened species are found in areas where these ancient languages once thrived. The people who spoke them cared for, understood and studied the ecologies in their area. They were experts in how to live and maintain a healthy environment.

I hear so many people talk about the ways in which indigenous people seem to understand the land, the sea and the vast ecosystems that sustain them. We talk about it, but do we really understand what that means?

In my opinion this is the place in this story where prejudice rears its head. If you think that racism and maintaining a clean and healthy place for our heirs and us can’t be related, think of this.

Ancient civilizations have known the earth much longer than newer nations have. Not having access to the technology we now have, those civilizations lived much closer to the natural machinations of of Mother Earth.

Part of their core teachings and what they handed down generation to generation had to do with how to maintain their lives by nurturing and caring for the environment around them. They knew innately that if they didn’t take care of the earth, they would perish. It was in their blood to know this. For them a poisoned environment meant starvation, loss and death.

         In an effort to homogenize and cleanse society, we lose touch with the culture and wisdom that innately resides within. Each group seems to feel stronger and more secure if their “ways” are “the ways” to go.

I believe that we are not just supporting racism. I believe that we can no longer see one another. I keep hearing that we should be “colorblind”. Nothing sounds more insipid or boring than allowing myself to be convinced that seeing my brothers and sisters around the world, in the glory of their shining and diverse cultures and color is something I should pretend isn’t there.

There are two fronts on which I see great damage being made to humanity. One front seems to want to gloss over the glaring punctures in our collective armor.

They’re fond of words like “tolerance” and “colorblind”. Nothing much comes of this. I think we just end up staring at one another, but not knowing any more. What do they mean by tolerance? Putting up with others and making no attempt to know them? What’s the point?

The other front is blatant bigotry, which we don’t need to drown in here. Those are the folks that would like everyone to be like them. Look like them. Dress like them and…speak the same language that they speak, at all times. Yes, language has it’s own foundation in cultures. Words are everything. That’s why, once spoken, words can never be retrieved. So when words are lost, deep, deep meaning goes with them. We lose each other and we lose biodiversity as well.  

This really should be a lesson in how precious life is…all life. And how the expression coming through all life is consequential and contributes to the health and wellbeing of the planet. All life has countenance and a unique way of communicating. Plants, animals, insects…humans.

The ancients could look at the ground and the ground spoke to them. The languages that they used to pass on what the ground told them have been dying. God bless those that realize their true and extraordinary value.

carolynstonecloud.com

“Sleep is the best meditation.”

              ~His Holiness The Dalai Lama

We all know that humans need a certain number of good sleeping hours. We are replenished when we sleep well; we are depleted when we don’t.

But contemplating the words written above, stated by His Holiness The Dalai Lama…”Sleep is the best meditation.”,gave me a very different take on sleep.

I have a friend who’s mind is so creative, so active and alive that he wishes he didn’t have to be bothered with sleeping. I have to admit that I’ve had that thought as well.

There’s no need to go into a scientific explanation of sleep and its benefits. You can read that in a thousand places… just go to Google. So we’ll skip that here.

I’ve worked with a lot of dream experts. They are people who believe that just like anything else that happens to us in life, our dreams are informing us. And further that we are literally experiencing ourselves in another realm when we are sleeping.

These “Dream Tenders” often suggest that we write down our dreams and then contemplate their meanings. That perhaps just a step beyond that we can actually program our dreams to retrieve information that may not be available to us as we walk through our busy daily, and very physically and mentally consuming lives.

In giving real minutes of my time to the words of the wise and most compassionate Dalai Lama, I thought of meditation, which I love and need greatly. Meditation informs me in the most profound and beautiful ways. Ways that I cannot get to in the physical environment in which I live.

When I meditate, my mind is focused but free of strain. My body relaxes as it does in no other way. My heart is liberated and opened to feel everything and nothing. The entire Universe seems vast and silent, sweet and available and oh so full of love and endless knowledge.

Meditation releases the meditator from the bonds of the physical and it endless attempt to convince us that we are limited. I am NOT limited when meditating. I am only attached to the Divine Ocean of absolute being and creativity.

Is it possible to experience that as we sleep too? What a deep and profound thought. That would give us more time to be free to experience the true Self. The real Knower within.

The very thought of this may just turn a tumultuous night into a blissful interval with the deepest part of the real Self and a day that follows full of joy and peace.

carolynstonecloud.com