Posted in Fate, Quotes, Why?

What Would Jonah Do?


To be crazy or normal?

That was the question that Jonah struggled with (and Moses.)

Recently the last piece fell into place. Since the summer of 2007,  I have been haunted by a dream in which I come upon the burial site of millions of people whose metropolis has been swallowed by the earth in a combination of a landslide and earthquake that were triggered by a volcanic eruption. It appears to have occurred approximately eleven years in the future, after Christmas 2017 and before of the Year of the Earth Dog (2018.)

The first spirit I come into contact with is the Earth itself. Furious and vengeful, she tells me her cause is just. Humans deserve die for the many ways they have desecrated her. She is merely defending herself. In my mind, I am shown an attack in the ground that feels repulsively rape-like.

Years later I learned of a new process called fracking (hydraulic-fracturing), it is described as drilling a mile deep turning sideways and fracturing the rock with a high pressure injection fluid. Reading the description was disturbing, of all the ways we abuse the earth, it is the most rape-like, it is what I saw and felt in the dream.

Still what confounded me was that the earth was attacking an ocean side city. Tokyo is my best guess from the clues. But in the image she showed me the land that was being fracked was north of the center of a large continent. What connection could Tokyo, Japan have to such a thing? That is what I learned only  this last week.

I passionately support the fight of the Indigenous People to protect the land. The Dakota Sioux of Standing Rock and a historic number of other Indigenous Tribes have joined them to protest the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline. I feel so much against this thing, it is hard to put into words. There are so many reasons this is wrong, from the fact that these pipelines make it that much easier to stay dependent on oil to the fact that this breaks United States treaties with the Sioux. The possible environmental impact, that a leak could poison the drinking water of the tribe via the Missouri River, which connects to the Mississippi River is one I don’t want to imagine.

I did not expect to find the answer to my own dream but now the last piece is so painfully clear. Many times in my life, I have learned the of power of money to do great evil. Therefore to undo evil you must, “follow the money” (Deep Throat, All the President’s Men.) I found an article at Food and Water Watch titled “Who’s Banking on the Dakota Access Pipeline.”

With sickening horror, I looked at a diagram of the many many worldwide banks funding this, and I couldn’t help noticing that the two banks giving the most money . . . Mizuho Bank and Bank of Tokyo Mitsubishi UFJ are not only Japanese but, after a little more looking, they are headquartered in Tokyo itself.

For nine years I have not done anything more radical about my dream than to start this website, but now I have the last piece, like a smoking gun, it sits heavy in my hand. These banks have names now, websites and addresses. What do I do? Is there a simple polite way to say “I know this sound’s crazy but I had this dream and I would really appreciate it if you would seriously rethink these investments you’ve made. Please.”

Posted in Spring 2016, Why?

Why Truth is Stranger Than Fiction


Fact is stranger than fiction because like a grain of sand within an oyster, truth in its simplest form makes us uncomfortable. Like the mollusk we seek to make it soft and shiny, we coat truth within layer after layer of shiny lacquer to make it easier to accept. The naked truth is ugly but the clothed parable is beautiful. Thus was fiction born.

In the book Yoga’s Forgotten Foundations by Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami the second yama is truthfulness, but the first yama is non-injury. In other words, the reader is urged to put telling the truth second to not hurting others. When others may be hurt by the truth the reader is urged to avoid telling the truth. Not to lie, but simply to avoid speaking of what is painful to others.

This is a strange concept for me and a challenge. The need to tell the truth has long been a driving motivation for me in my life, but it has also caused much trouble. I know that to learn to tell the truth without hurting those around me is part of why I am here. So far fiction seems the key. Those that are unready to accept the lesson can dismiss fiction as silliness. Those that are ready will feel the truth that is hidden.

Like the grain of sand within the pearl, they know without needing proof what is true.

Posted in Spring 2016, Why?

Why Handwriting Has Power


Watching Anime´ (Japanese animation) I saw examples of using calligraphy to perform magic. Both Sailor Moon and Inuyasha have priests who by writing Kanji characters on paper could then use those papers to fight. I do think the hand written note, card and letters does carry more spiritual energy than that which is printed, copied or posted by machine.  Every person’s handwriting is different, suggesting that each letter carries the imprint of their individual soul.I often find hand written letters sent by my deceased grandparents in this house and I can feel their love when I hold them.

Last_DawnTwenty years ago, I didn’t want to write real life stories, real life was too painful for me. I wanted to write science-fiction. This is a hand-written page from my first story. It is about a father who refuses to kill his daughter, according to the traditional rituals of his culture. He accidentally sets off a chain of events destroying his civilization, but giving birth to three new civilizations in its place. Holding the page I remember how desperate I was to hold my own family together when I wrote it. 

Of course my best example of word magic is in my blog Red Letters, they were hand painted rather than hand written, but so is Japanese Calligraphy.

PS. This post is blue for Autism Awareness day.

Posted in Why?

Why I Am Here (and Who I Am)

Hi I am Carolyn E. and Osiris stands for “openly seeking inquisitive reverent immortal souls.” I chose that acronym because I thought it would be fun with all the trouble Isis (as in the Islamic State) is causing the world today to use the name of Isis’ (as in the ancient Egyptian Goddess) husband Osiris to show my own desire to stop such radical religious violence not only on the battlefield but more importantly in the mind, the psyche, if you will.

I am a single mom with three adult children and eight cats (all strays or progeny of strays that I adopted.) My oldest son is severely autistic (all of us have a little autism it seems). He, however, requires care 24/7/365. I would not allow him to be institutionalized, so I have become a bit of a hermit, taking care of him. It suits me well.

You should read my blog if you are interested in weird stuff, spirituality most of all. When I was young, and talked about seeing or talking to ghosts, it was a certainty that any sane person would insist “there’s no such thing as ghosts,” and that was the end of it. Fortunately the world has changed since then and I have actually found a few who want to know more about my insights.

But more important to me are the dead, who keep asking me to talk for them. As I mentioned on my about page, I even had a dream where God took me to task for not doing my job. (Oh and you should have heard him laugh when I tried to say I couldn’t do the job because it’s against my religion to tell people what to believe.)

So fine,” I told him. “I’ll try again.” Which I did and failed, and again and failed, and again, etc, etc. Until finally, I knew I had no choice but to step past my personal fears, lay the whole thing out and hope that the worst that can happen is a lot of people will get a good laugh out of this.

This isn’t the world of “One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest,” anymore. And it’s not as if I ever did anything to hurt myself or others as a result of it, I never would. If anything, this is the stuff that gives me the strength to work towards, and believe in, a better future.

That belief, the one that says we, each and every person alive, has the power to make this a better world, through even the smallest acts of kindness and mindfulness, that is what I’d like to share. To inspire others to feel that kind of strength of faith, that would be success for me.

Thank you for this opportunity.

Posted in Why?

Why the Masters Aren’t Lost

I had often wondered  why my ancestors, the prehistoric people of Europe, Celts for example left no writings to continue the understanding of their culture. I heard it suggested that it was due to the superstition that writing  down their knowledge and religion would allow others to steal and/or corrupt it. (I might think this a ridiculous notion were it not for the number of people who have died in past and who sadly continue to die today due to the corruptions of religions that were founded on love and peace.) Still this was not enough to satisfy my curiosity.

Then I saw a documentary about how, in Japan, many traditional arts, such as sword making, are not studied in books  or classes but must be handed down from master to apprentice over many years of training. It had explained how in this way the craft knowledge from a thousand years was kept the same. At once I was struck both by, how beautiful and admirable such dedication seemed, and how impractical and impossible it  would have been for my ancestors to do the same.

A thousand years ago, the Dark Ages was the well earned name for that period in European history. A result of waves of barbarians fighting over land and loot, the years between the fall of the Roman Empire and the Renaissance saw so many killed or dying young from the loss of any scientific medical knowledge that to imagine a fine craft passed from master to apprentice for generations was nigh impossible then. Only monasteries were able to protect what bits of craft and culture survive.

So it seemed to me a sad truth that most of the knowledge that my Celtic ancestors may have possessed was certainly was lost (Especially after thousands of pagan saxons were executed by Charlemagne) and the only  remnants that survive are those that became part of Catholic tradition (like Christmas trees.)  For I long while I thought them foolish for letting superstition keep them from writing down their history.

But then I dreamed a shaman summoned me, and granted me communion. I awoke the next day strangely changed. I found myself more  aware of many things, especially nature. I found myself no longer questioning why they did not write but instead marveling at the confidence a oneness with nature bestows. I am in awe of the power contained in a single immortal soul.

If neither  death nor time can keep a master from taking an apprentice, then I have no excuse for not learning.