When a public figure, parent or other family member makes declarations are you more likely to accept it without contemplating their intent or validity, to unthinkingly jump to conclusions and cohere with the meme? Conversely, are you prone to deny information, even when it is true?
It may surprise you to know the level of influence rumors can have on a society. It may also be easy to dismiss the possibility that the proliferating stream of a media-spun tale has duped you once or twice. Have you ever wondered why it happens and what you can do about it? I’ll share my multidimensional perspective with an example from my own life: On the early evening of September 10, 2001, I was headed to the cinema with a close relative. Although I looked forward to our outing together, I began to feel so uncomfortable that I could barely recognize myself. My body felt incredibly tense and agitated, as though I was looking for a fight. My mood was uncharacteristically aggressive and I wasn’t sure what was going on. I apologized repeatedly as I tried to reconcile my feelings. The growing desire for confrontation was competing with a sense of confusion and sadness. I behaved like a juvenile elk trying to outrun a hungry wolf pack, as my only chance of survival. The movie we ultimately watched was only a brief respite from the extreme angst. I apologized again and went home alone to determine the reason for this highly unusual bout. The next morning I received a phone call from the spa I’d been giving sessions in. “Don’t come to work today. We’re at war!” When I eventually saw the news footage of planes crashing into the Twin Towers on September 11 I was stunned. The same scene repeated and as I tried to grasp the reality of what I was seeing, I kept watching the event repeat on the news feed, while “we’re at war!” echoed in my mind as though seeking my attention. I considered the massive casualties to the people directly involved and the probability of events that could rise from the aftermath. I saw the footage. I felt along. I prayed. I also understood what was being communicated to me and through my body the day before when approaching the cinema. It all became to clear to me. “We’re at war” became a declaration chanted by many. Even famous actors made sincere pleas to their fellow Americans, in urgency fundraising telethon fashion, but something didn't land with me; something didn't make sense, in spite of the evidence. Yes, I watched a plane fly into a building and I recognized it was real. Yes, I saw it with my own eyes. But, what exactly did I see with my own eyes that I questioned open-mindedly? In the midst of the devastation and the tension entangled in the fervor of the claims of war, I kept seeing (or rather my guides were showing me) memories of a television program I watched in childhood: the one and only Sesame Street. The scene that replayed in my mind featured old and condemned buildings being professionally demolished. Countdown, explosion and collapse: the pattern continued with every building and regardless of its size, each one would fall in the same way. This vision played repeatedly until it really had my attention. Until it had my attention, it continued to play until I acknowledged it. The information was there all along, in the midst of significant distress before the movie, and during the news footage of the Twin Towers, in the questions I felt rising from within when hearing the words, “we’re at war!” yet I had to do my part to appreciate it. I had to give it my devoted non-judgmental, open-minded attention. I had to listen. And to help you do your part: Homework! 1. Be open-minded. Agreeing or disagreeing to every story, rumor or belief without consideration is equally dangerous. It is very important to pay attention to what is being said, how you feel, and what your guides are telling you, (even if you may not understand it immediately, like how I felt the evening of September 10.) Just begin to pay attention and the rest will come in time and with your thoughtful inquiry. 2. Ask questions. Open minds ask questions and you should feel safe to ask questions and have conversations. If you’re in a situation where this isn’t allowed or supported, then take a good look at what your motive for being in the situation, relationship or group is – religious, spiritual, business, et cetera. 3. Check your reaction. You’re human and bound to react and have emotions. Have your reaction yet be mindful as not to be seduced by it, or your own story about it, particularly if there is a lot of public momentum behind it. Make sure you stay with yourself as not to be swept away in someone else’s illusion that you in turn adopt and champion as your own. Maintain integrity and seek the truth! 4. Don’t perpetuate rumors. Though media circuits maybe the reigning champions of, um, “innuendo”, the measure of humanity as well as a person’s character can be measured in the comments section of virtually every open-source social network site. Consider how you are presenting yourself to the world and how you are spending your life. 5. Don’t let rumors choose your friends for you. One quick way to demolish beneficial possibilities and dampen freedom of thought and relationships is to assume the best or worst of another individual, based on heresy. Be strong enough to voice your own questions and experiences. Hold true to your convictions with an open-mind even when you’re the only one standing. Do you recall a time in your life when you were involved in a rumor? Please share. Etiquette: Only mature and constructive comments directly related to the article’s topic are welcome. Published: 10 March, 2014 Tuaca Kelly, spiritual teacher, medical intuitive and master healer serves to assist others in recognizing and developing their multidimensional consciousness and health, critical thinking skills, intuitive discernment, and realizing their soul potential. She lives in the Netherlands with her wife. For further insight visit: www.lovethemessenger.com. Read the Dutch translation. There was little about sitting in a bucket seat I found physically pleasurable especially after driving several hours in one. This extended sojourn began in Dana Point, CA and found finale in the San Francisco Bay Area. To endure I practiced all sorts of micro-movements, gentle swaying and improvised ‘Toyoga’ positions to competing sounds of gusting wind on interstate 5 and iTom Labs’ CD Atomic Consciousness. Adding prayers to my car dance I was mindful and grateful for the means, equipment and ability to drive, “Thank you. Thank you.” My gratitude increased with each progressive mile under the post-midnight and semi-rural, dark blue, star-speckled sky. She was beautiful if not magical. I loved it!
Still unfamiliar with the geography of my new neighborhood – I’d just moved and since I’d been traveling frequently to be in service and teach – landmarks and street names had great value yet little recognition for me. As I neared the highway exit bringing me closer to home my guides delivered a message, “I’ll be pulled over.” Upon hearing this I became unusually excited, instinctively checked my current speed and felt confident I was following the rules of the road. Maybe 3 minutes later sure enough I saw brilliant lights – red, blue, white – flashing from behind my trusty Japanese import. Funny I still I had, albeit a brief, ‘human moment’ wondering if the police car was for me. In that moment of internal processing. I remembered a message my guides gave me several months before: “When I get to California I’m going to help a local police department solve a murder case. Contact the chief when I arrive.” My excitement grew instantly. This was perfect! The officer had that patented ‘I’m a cop even when out of uniform’ swagger. “Ma’am, have you been drinking?” he nudged. “No sir, I don’t drink.” Apparently in the dark of night in semi-rural-ville splendor I had exited the unlit and quiet highway from or to the wrong lane? Oh. “Were you on your cell-phone?” Hearing this question I rejoiced taking it as confirmation: I was back in California! My phone had been turned-off, in my purse and in the passenger seat for hours. “No sir”, I assured him. “Yet I am very glad to meet you.” This perhaps surprised him? Excitedly I shared with him what I did as my life’s work/soul purpose, how my guides had just told me this meeting between us would take place then requested his captain’s contact information, please? When the words, “psychic medium” were absorbed by his conscious mind the expression on his face was priceless. His response, and the delivery of it, was poetry, “May I see your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance?” The officer’s shadow followed his swaggering footsteps back to his American-made cruiser. Moments later his patrolling partner joined him to return my identifying paperwork. I’m not sure why this was necessary. Perhaps he’d been sitting a long time too? The officer asked me to be careful on the drive back home, “We wouldn’t anything to happen to you.” Before leaving we exchanged contact information. I suppose the officer was being protective when he spoke of his commander, “He is a very busy man and may not get back to you for a month.” My guides chimed in informing me that the commander would contact me the following day. I thanked him and made way to my toothbrush, flannel-sheets and cosmic travels. Some moment in-between morning meditation and a homemade raw tru-ogranic super-food breakfast smoothie boosted with positive vibrations from sacred geometry and loving intention I received the call. Following introductions the voice on the phone confessed he didn’t know what I was available for or open to yet he had an un-solved murder case and wondered if I could or would be willing to help. Absolutely! We met in person at the station. “The station”, that’s vague, eh? Perhaps this is a good moment to share that due to the nature of the case, combined with my client-confidentiality practice, names, places and badge numbers aren’t included? His demeanor was very kind his energy excited, warm and ‘open’, his attire was standard jacket and tie, trousers ankle-length - I could glimpse socks - and his hairstyle, shorn geometrically, was very “Joe Friday”. Pleasantries exchanged, his questions about the process were intelligent, thoughtful and sincere. The ‘download’ from my guides I began to receive about the case were immediate and plentiful. A visit from someone who had crossed also occurred. “Commander Joe” who didn’t expect us to work during that visit had to excuse himself to retrieve the case file. I took notes of the information I was receiving ready to convey them to “Joe” upon his prompt return. He was very skilled at introducing new evidence or people involved or thought to be involved and asking questions in response to what I was being shown from my guides to relay. Our interactive process was so smooth an on-looker could have thought we’d done this together before. I was very happy with our flow and after two-and-one-half-hours felt pretty complete with the initial chapter. Set to leave and re-hydrate my body – I consume a lot of water before, during and after channeling/working – “Joe” thanked me for my time and confirmation of his own senses, said he definitely had his homework, direction and much new and significant information to consider. We shook hands in kindness and as an afterthought he asked, “What happens next? Do I just call you again?” Quick to offer a response my guides instantly showed me an iconic pop-culture symbol synonymous with Bob Kane, one used by the fictional character Commissioner Gordon, so I went with it. “Yes, just throw up the ‘Bat Signal’ and I’ll be here. I’m happy to help. In reflection: as unusual as it may seem to be excited about being pulled-over by a squad car there maybe something greater at work. Our guides are always making connections helping to co-create opportunities for us to consider. Be open to the possibilities and be present in the process to make conscious choices. tuaca, a fine italian liqueur FAQS: beautiful what does your name mean?" "Is that native American?" "African?" "Japanese?" "Tuaca, like the alcohol?" "Were your parents hippies?" "Were they drinking it when you were conceived?" "Have you ever tried it?" "Like in Fried Green Tomatoes?" "No really, what is your real name? Let me see your driver's license!" "Well what's your stage name?" "I bet you get asked this question all the time; do you get tired of it?" I could continue with examples in this vain, yet knowing you're an intelligent and gentle soul, I'll only continue with the story, a true story where answers will appear like (insert metaphor here). So finish brushing your teeth, put on your pajamas and hop into your bed, hammock, cot, tatami mat or whichever sleeping spot finds you each sunset. Now, scoot along and groom. I'll be here sipping tea. Ah, nice a clean? Fine, let's continue. Long, long ago during the renaissance of Italy a lightly sweet amber-colored Italian liqueur based on fine, cask-aged brandy possessing a rich fruit-like flavor or vanilla and citrus was off the hizzie! This elegant concoction, was one to truly behold and enjoy. I wonder what creating it was like. That day of discovery, may or may not have looked exactly like this: Day INT: 1601 Tuscany region, Italy. Francesco and Lucianno were brothers who began their baking shift each morning at 3:00, no 4:00, no 5:00, in their family's house where they lived and worked. Taking their second breakfast, sipping brandy and eating mixed fruit pie, Lucianno motioned to Franesco for some fresh milk. Lucianno - 24 year old. Olive skin, lithe body, happy and passionate. His hair is unkempt yet his glowing smile takes the attention away from his bohemian appearance. He is slouched over his pie plate sharing the large wooden table with his younger brother Francesco. Lucianno: Hey "Cesco", give me tha milk! Francesco - 23 years old. Olive skin, lithe body, happy and passionate. Kept his hair short like his favourite stage actor who also worked as a waiter in a neighboring village. Franceso fancied himself a great opera singer too yet each time he went to sing, his brother would pull his shirt over his head. Francesco: Get it yourself, it is closer to you! Lucianno: Why you gotta be like a goat? Francesco: You're a goat! A brotherly wrestling match instantly ensued: milk, brandy, vanilla and orange essense magically wound up in a bottle and Tuaca was born! Okay, I don't know the exact details of HOW Tuaca the fine Liquor Italiano was created, just when and where. It was very popular in its time among the passionate Tuscan people. Bravo! Hundreds of years later, Gaetono Tuoni & Giorgio Canepa imported Tuaca to the US. I was told by a family friend of Tuoni & Canepa that they combined their names together and made up "Tuaca". The "Tu" obviously from "Tu" in "TUoni" and the subsequent letters pulled from "CAnepA". In the 1970s, Tuaca was the new drink, often found on the bar near the Uzo and Kahlua though they taste nothing alike. Tuaca is a milk-brandy with essence of vanilla and orange. Oaxaca is a town in Mexico and Chewbacca is a fictional character. See, they taste nothing alike. So my mother, while pregnant with me was at Guliver's Bar with my would-be God Mother "HL" who was dating the bartender there. He introduced Tuaca the liqueur to his girlfriend and my Mother. On the spot, my Mother said, "I'm going to have a daughter and her name is Tuaca!" I've had Tuaca once in my life. As a child, I made a date with my Mother to have Tuaca together for the first time on my 21st birthday. I'm happy to report that I did like the warmth, body and flavor of Tuaca - had three shots and inverted my glass. Drinking, isn't my thing despite the fact that I am a second-generation American of Irish & German descent. Yes, I am named truly named after the fine Italian liqueur by my hippie Mother - as printed on my birthday certificate, baptismal certificate, GED & future awards. Incidentally, "Towanda" is the war-cry popularized by the movie based on the book written by Fannie Flag: "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe'" Drink responsibly with compliments and only when you're feeling happy. - Tuaca Kelly |
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