Mark Twain's "Mental Telegraphy" - Awareness of Psychic Events
Interesting how I was reading Mark Twain's essays and came upon his account of experiences with telepathy at the very same time I received notification for this topic through a favorite subscription!
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Will the Age of Aquarius Bring a Cure for Diabetes?
Though it's unclear when, exactly, to count us as being in the Age of Aquarius, we can perhaps speculate by looking at the rising number of medical breakthroughs
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Libra Graciously Opens the Door to Autumn

Libra astrology represents the knife edged tightrope between opposites. Opposite to the Spring Equinox, which does Aries host, Libra makes an appearance on the opposite side of the zodiac.

Libra/Aries is part of a cycle, and when the focus is on Libra, it means that the lessons of the past three months are applied symbolically through Libra.

A Cardinal sign according to astrology, Libra is said to exist on the Cardinal Cross. It shares the Cardinal position with three other signs. Cardinal signs such as Libra are constantly found leading the way, organizing the program, and putting things into an orderly arrangement.

Here within the Libra sphere, darkness and light balance. Our days and nights gradually become equal. From a spiritual perspective, the Libran balance applies to balancing matter and soul.

Astrology has it that this is the place where dualities are neutralized through balance. We may look at happiness/sadness, good/evil, poverty/wealth and many other opposites as an example.

Located in the middle of the body, the whole solar plexus is a focal point with a physical tie in to a Libran’s being. Libra’s body focus is the kidneys.

Libra opens the doors to autumn, and represents the Autumnal Equinox when the sun rises specifically due east and sets precisely due west.

When the Sun enters Libra on September 22nd, the Sun is ushered through the Celestial Equator. This is a intangible demarcation that is directly above the Earth’s equator rotating from East to West.

Libras are social beings. A certain poise and grace composes the makeup of the Libran personality. With much care and attentiveness, Libra watches over relationships, and takes mind to keep balance and beauty and peace in the surrounding community of his or her world.

With charisma and refinement, a Libra goes into a social situation and takes charge. He or she is so charming about putting things in order, that no one really notices when the whole group has been taken over by the Libra in their midst.

Libra astrology governs sex, law, and money, which are the astral, mental, and physical planes respectively. The task at hand for Libra is to synthesize these.

“Applied creativity” is how the magic happens, according to Souledout. org.

Libra’s ruling planet is Venus. Libra is considered a masculine sign. Exalted in this astrology symbol, planet Saturn’s relationship to the balancing sign provides the discipline to synthesize and provide equilibrium to the environment. Libra is also labeled as a sign of the air.

Libra people are easy to mingle with. Many Libras have an intense, burning desire to be with a mate. It is as if the significant other is the only thing that makes life complete. As an astrology sign, Libra has a very special place within the zodiac.


http://souledout.org/nightsky/autumnequinox/autumnequinox.html

http://souledout.org/cosmology/zodiacaldeities/zdlibra02/libranew.html

My Friend in the Darkness

Hoping to commune with surrounding wildlife at dusk one evening, I had seen the most magical flight of a huge bird floating downward from the utility pole near the barn. He was only fifteen feet away, shadowy and oh so silent in his flight

In a split second, he was off toward the pond – then off into the darkness of the tall pine trees.

On a different evening I heard several high-pitched screeches - sounded like they came from the tall pines near the pond. Someone was speaking to me from the wildlife the darkness.

I stood on the deck sort of fooling around and trying to imitate the sound of it. My husband thought I was losing my mind, but I was just having fun. After a few rounds of stretching my vocal chords to the max, an answer came from out of the dark and starry night.

I replied again with more enthusiasm, but now with a scratchy throat. I was getting so many replies; I thought perhaps I had joined a community conversation. I reached the end of my vocal performance and had to say goodnight to this wildlife community.

Whoever this wildlife friend in the darkness was, he liked me right away. By the next morning at dusk, I went out on the porch to do the morning coffee ritual and heard that friendly screech-like greeting.

In order not to wake up the world, and to also save on my overextended vocal chords, I tried a softer reply. He picked up on it, and we communicated for several moments. It was awesome how he could hear me as soon as I set foot on the porch.

This went on for weeks on end. Whenever I went outside during dimly lit hours, he was there sensing my presence from who knows where. I hadn’t actually seen my wildlife friend yet, and the recipient at the other end of the vocal exchanges remained a mystery.

As more time passed, I began feeling a true affection for this amiable talker- companion of mine. My husband, Peter, had also developed an interest in the puzzling caller of the darkness. He remarked that my friend had gotten my communication confused with a mating call.

Nonetheless, I was happy to have this invisible friend as part of the wildlife community. I kept wishing so that I could see who it was though.

Finally one morning I was near the kitchen sink pouring coffee - looking out the window. Just a few feet away, the utility light near the well pit provided a small circle of visibility in the darkness. Something was moving out there.

In the blink of an eye – I saw a creature that looked like a monkey at first. Pretty soon I was able to focus and figure out that this mysterious visitor must have been my bird friend. Without seeing his wingspan, it really took me a long while to figure out that he was an owl.

So there he was, looking at me through the window, and I was looking at him. The longer he stood there in the spotlight, the more excited I got. I didn’t know what to do, not imagining that he could probably actually hear the blood passing through my veins. Some time passed by with me just looking at him and vice versa.

I didn’t want him to go away too quickly after all this time of invisible communication with the surrounding wildlife. I thought to try body language at this close range. I started tilting my head from side to side. With an eager response, he quickly started moving his head – in a rotation of almost 360 degrees!

In an early morning stupor, I still hadn’t figured out that this guy was one heck of a really big owl.

Months went by, and we talked all summer long. Sometimes other bird voices chimed in. I felt welcomed into a whole different wildlife world that went on during the night.

Later in the season, something happened to my owl friend. He was found lying underneath the willow tree on the north end of the pond. I was so saddened by the loss.

After a closer look, I learned that he was a Great Horned Owl with a fifty-four inch wingspan. A view of his beautiful feather pattern, and his powerful talons took my breath away.

As I looked at his lifeless body, I could understand why there is so much mythology surrounding the owl as a spiritual creature – a connection to other worldly places - places where I could only hope he would be talking to me from beyond. Communing with wildlife can really hurt at moments like this.

Hanging Laundry on the Line

What is it about laundry hanging out to dry that fascinates me so? Is it the quipping of sheets and towels making the soft clamor of the fabric? Is it the brilliant sunlight reflected on white? Or is it a sign of the normalcy that I had known as a child?

Neighbors may have been immigrants from any country, but all had a laundry day as kind of a common denominator. There was a certain peacefulness and bonding that we middle class people had.

As a child walking to school, it was reassuring to know that Mrs. Clancy was well, as shown by blue overalls all in a row on her laundry day. Or the multiple aprons that Mrs. Ardelaine, the Romanian neighbor displayed so proudly with either lace pockets or the simple broadcloth of her every day aprons.

Neighbors with children had the most interesting variety. My sisters and I could snigger a bit when we’d see our classmate’s undies out on the line.

Today, when I see laundry hanging, I am reminded how unusual it has been of late to see the textiles on the wing of the breeze. It’s more common to see beach towels and bathing suits flopped over a clothesline, instead.

The lack of middle class pursuit of excellence that made laundry into and art of craftsmanship is gone. Sometimes a line full of clothes may pop into view while driving down the road. It spurs that nostalgia of a day gone by.

Along with that day that’s passed is the dwindling existence of a middle class. The median gets smaller all the time. With a focus on getting rich, we watch television and see the fabulously wealthy politicians and movie stars.

We often hear of the poor, and huddled masses of large families on the welfare roles. We may read of the immigrants who are living the good life with their golden babies that provided parents with citizenship, and free hospitalization.

We hardly ever hear anything about middle class people anymore.

So when I see the clotheslines of the few, and the flapping towels and sheets, I am comforted with reminiscences of that bygone day of sincerity and hard working people. Of the short lived peaceful times. Of contentment and heroes home from the war and clean laundry waving in the breeze.