tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84114889015967114272024-03-05T13:31:34.374-08:00Whispers From AnimalsKaren McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-8851167750833778452012-06-14T02:52:00.000-07:002012-06-14T02:52:27.184-07:00Kitty Angel<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnJGslPXP070GPBUb1x07U6VYMg41W9q9IjiR1Su62g7DupW0-JtQ8a4a4nO0WnhaghNADNMzJFk8bFUJBMGianXagXjhxNyLs00alEGbnnoS8AbWP9iT31fq44hb-0XUNjBjYqGVYWPZ/s1600/Kitty,.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnJGslPXP070GPBUb1x07U6VYMg41W9q9IjiR1Su62g7DupW0-JtQ8a4a4nO0WnhaghNADNMzJFk8bFUJBMGianXagXjhxNyLs00alEGbnnoS8AbWP9iT31fq44hb-0XUNjBjYqGVYWPZ/s320/Kitty,.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Kitty Angel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">I am still learning
from my Animal Communications. This is true from one of my latest phone
sessions. It was with a client Surita, whose cat had passed and she wished to
get in touch with her cat </span>“<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Kitty</span>”<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">. I made the connection with Kitty fairly
easy. I talked with Surita about what </span>“<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Kitty</span>”<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;"> was like in their 18years together. How much
love they had for each other and how her passing was a lesson inbeing able to
let go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;"> As I connected more with </span>“<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Kitty</span>”<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">
a woman come through, it was the client’s grandmother. The cat was sitting on
her grandmother’s lap. (in the astral word) The client insisted that can’t be
right, my grandmother does not like cats. I described the woman and it was
confirmed that yes it was her grandmother coming through and yes it was her
cat, and yes Kitty was on her lap with her eyes as blue as the sea and her coat
was glowing with light. In further communicating with Kitty I come to find that
this cat is a teacher/healer in the after life. She often comes to visit </span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Surita</span></span><span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">
and even gives pointers to the new companion cat </span>”<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Bunny</span>”<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">
in the house hold. Kitty has helped Surita’s grandmother become more open to
animals and now she has an understanding of why people have pets. She has an
open heart to animals and understands their importance and enjoys their
companionship.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;"> Surita was happy to find the cat was
continuing helping others as she did while she was alive. She also found
comfort in knowing Kitty was with her grandmother and now her grandmother can
enjoy her special friend Kitty’s companionship. Surita said </span>“<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">She is like a little angel cat</span>”<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">, I said </span>“<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Yes a Kitty Angel she truly is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Thank you Karen for
helping me connect with Kitty. You told me things that I had only shared with Kitty
so it was nice to know you have such a great connection. Our session helped to
start healing my heart from the loss of her. I will definitely be calling again
and recommend anyone needing help with a loved animal to reach out to you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Thank you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: AbottOldStyle;">Surita<o:p></o:p></span></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-73895186748344324242012-01-26T17:32:00.000-08:002012-01-29T09:34:15.508-08:00Transformation into the Astral World<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
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</u></span></span></b></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42OgdNuj8GO-1W568Ejh8jLT1oMC0th_-myXljLLUXbKtRoQtHRbXGKrdu9gmH6shidOR2U0PdqSqsZiwNs4OxBcQYf7ZDEtgWXzc79FblvCY6Y5EUr8ekyC_Oai8PMTgRICAA5jqyJ4R/s1600/orbs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42OgdNuj8GO-1W568Ejh8jLT1oMC0th_-myXljLLUXbKtRoQtHRbXGKrdu9gmH6shidOR2U0PdqSqsZiwNs4OxBcQYf7ZDEtgWXzc79FblvCY6Y5EUr8ekyC_Oai8PMTgRICAA5jqyJ4R/s1600/orbs.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">There have been several times that I received an e-mail or phone call from someone whose pet just passed. They are distraught and seeking reassurance and understanding of what has happened to their beloved.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I have found that immediate communications after the passing of an animal to be a little difficult at times. I have seen that the spirit goes into a level or realm of total peace, or recovery before it is lifted into the astral plane where I am able to see and communicate fully with it. In this state of peace, or “recovery” I have found what looks like orbs of all shapes and colors. These I believe to be spirits of the souls that have passed. The light in this plane has a feeling of pureness I can not explain. It is a healing light, one that I wanted to stay in and absorb.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span> Also, in this recovery plane there is a humming sound, one that is continuous and has a very low vibration. It is a place of peace and recovery before they continue on into other astral worlds.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMvd_mKLJ84GSIp5TOCJQVKPN0BOMpRE8bHjGKmeoLMyk3EA01gx0syWWz2pOob02AyqsfRhYREv5mmCivUtjCqQ0p9jzMVLIpldezS263ad0LhyTdzWpo2AvBI34ykm3WsqJ6mmNNQUC/s1600/bianca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMvd_mKLJ84GSIp5TOCJQVKPN0BOMpRE8bHjGKmeoLMyk3EA01gx0syWWz2pOob02AyqsfRhYREv5mmCivUtjCqQ0p9jzMVLIpldezS263ad0LhyTdzWpo2AvBI34ykm3WsqJ6mmNNQUC/s320/bianca.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><i><u><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Bianca</span></span></u></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">One animal I made a connection like this was with a cat named Bianca. Her owner Joanna contacted me soon after Bianca had passed so when I first made the connection, Bianca’s soul was still I this recovery plane. There were hundreds of orbs of light in this holding place of healing, love and peace. I did not want to leave.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Telling Joanna of this plane left her feeling a little disappointed. Joanna wanted to know if Bianca was okay and if she knew how much she loved her.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I was lost in the beautiful light of the orbs and wonderful feelings emanating from that plane. I was having a hard time explaining it to Joanna.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I told her it was a place for souls to rest before going into the astral world to continue their work. I suggested that we try connecting with Bianca again in the near future, but for now to let her be at peace in this resting place. I reassured Joanna that Bianca was in a state of pureness and recovery of light and love.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Joanna tried to understand this but was still upset that we could not communicate with Bianca like she had hoped too.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">A few weeks later I was able to communicate with Bianca again. This time I connected with her spirit and found she had moved on to a different plane and was ready to fully communicate.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">She let me know that she visited Joanna often and liked to snuggle on her shoulders. She showed me that she is with Joanna sometimes when she sleeps. I told Joanna that Bianca would sometimes roll a pencil or pen off the table when she is studying to let her know she was there. This gave Joanna much comfort to know that Bianca had risen to her astral plane tough she was still able to visit her on our plane.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">There was much more in my communication with Bianca that helped Joanna in her grieving process. Joanna still misses her dearly but in the knowledge that Bianca is okay and does come to visit has helped.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdVigco2slTQYlgbpO4GYj6wU14DUDJ83RK3gvHIgkMKJmnxQjXOY73rZMR7vobVJ4UNEoJVndX1rQsS4-jpg8T-0MxkiJ-tmkNozSnbBRtdHsT89SJSj_MupMOUCle1rNsYO8khqF_2G/s1600/abby+dog+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdVigco2slTQYlgbpO4GYj6wU14DUDJ83RK3gvHIgkMKJmnxQjXOY73rZMR7vobVJ4UNEoJVndX1rQsS4-jpg8T-0MxkiJ-tmkNozSnbBRtdHsT89SJSj_MupMOUCle1rNsYO8khqF_2G/s320/abby+dog+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><i><u><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Abby</span></span></u></i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">One other animal that I tried to communicate with soon after its passing was a dog named Abby. She passed a week before Dana, her owner came to see me. When I reached out to Abby, I found her in the recovery plane. I was not able to fully connect with her. An older man kept coming through, he let me know that Abby was fine. So I explained this to Dana and described the older man to her. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The older man was Dana’s grandfather. The grandfather told me he was present during Abby’s passing and that Dana should have a burial for Abby as this will help lift her up from the recovery plane and into his astral plane where he could care for her.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Months passed before I was able to meet up with Dana and try to reach out to Abby. This time, Abby came in full and clear. She talked about her love for her Nana, Dana’s mother who watched her from time to time. She mentioned her coming to visit Dana and sometimes liked to go under her bed. Abby was happy and free of any pain. She was like a young dog frolicking with joy.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I am still learning every day I communicate with animals. I never know where they will take me or and what the will teach me.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">This is my greatest joy to communicate and share what I have learned. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I am truly humble <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>and thankful every day for this blessing.</span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> Here is a thank you letter from Joanna,</span></b></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"></span></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Dear Karen,</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">I am writing to you to thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you have given me-a chance to communicate with my beloved Bianca after she passed away. To lose animal that lived their life to the end of the lifespan is one thing, but to lose your soul mate at only 7 years old due to a terrible disease is another. As you know, Bianca had a kidney failure; we fought till the very end. Medication, subcutaneous fluids given to her by me every day under the skin to keep her the most comfortable and hydrated-we did it all. At the end I had no choice but to help her, she started to suffer too much and it was something I did not want for her. I had to put her down.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">I was telling Bianca how much I loved her, and how hard this decision was for me. She wasn’t just a pet to me, she was very special. I had pets my whole life but I have never had such an unbelievable connection with any of them. Yes, I loved them dearly, of course! But with Bianca it was different. She was truly my soul-mate, my everything. Losing her was like losing a child to me. I was not sure if she knew how special she was to me. I had a feeling that she had to know, but wanted to be sure of it.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Right after she passed away, I contacted you because I couldn’t find a place for myself. I wanted Her to know how much she meant to me, I wanted to apologize for my decision, and I wanted Her to know that it was done all out of love, pure love. I could not have been selfish and keep Her alive for next couple of days and watch her suffer. I wanted her to know how much she meant to me, how much I loved her, and that I would never stop loving Her.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Then you told me that you had some trouble connecting with Bianca. You explained to me that she was in the “between” state. You explained to me what a beautiful place it was, which gave me some comfort but left disappointed knowing that what I really wanted to tell my beautiful girl was not told.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">A few days later we tried again, this time with a success. The things that Bianca communicated to you were so true. It was the things that she used to do that no other cat did. The things that made her unique. The things that only Bianca and I knew. Right there I realized what a wonderful gift you have. To be able to communicate with animals, especially the passed way ones is a true gift. It helped me with my grieving process, it made me calmer knowing that Bianca was safe and not afraid of anything anymore.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">It has been a year and a half since she passed away and I miss Her as much as on the very first day, when she was gone. However, knowing that I was able to communicate with Her through you, and knowing that I still could if I needed to, gives me comfort.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Thank you again, for everything that you have done. I wish more people knew about you and your unbelievable gift. You helped me so much, and I know you could do the same for others.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Hugs,</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Joanna</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Here is a thank you from Dana,</span></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: darkslategrey;">Dear Karen, I had a beagle named Abbey who we had to put down about 3 weeks prior. I just wanted to thank you for that day. You had told me several things...one being that Abbey was still in "transition" and it seemed as though you were communicating with my grandfather (whom I had never met, he passed away about 27 years ago). You mentioned many things including that he had been in the room when my mother and I put Abbey down and that we should also have a ceremony of some sort to help her move on to the next "level" of her transition. I took in everything you said, but what made it so unbelievable was when I went home that day and told my mom everything you had said. I had found it odd that of all the people who have passed in my family, that he was the one there with us in the room that day, being that neither myself nor Abbey ever knew him. When I told my mom what you said, she got very emotional and told me she knew why you had said that and understood the connection. When he passed 27 years ago, when my mother said her last goodbye at the wake..she placed her hand on him and she said she felt him tell her to come to him whenever she needed him, and that he'd always be there for her. Well, that day in the vet's office, she called out to him. She said she needed him and asked him to be there...and after speaking with you, we found out he absolutely was. Not only by her telling me that, did she validate everything you said, but by me telling her what you said, also validated for her that her prayers are working. That day also happened to be my birthday and I had a family party right after. Great company, great time with everyone, but I've told every single person since, that out of everything that day...my reading with you was by far the best birthday present I received. My mom and I have since planted Day Lilies in Abbey's memory, and as you suggested, I plan to come back and see you soon, in hopes that she has moved on in her transition. Thank you again SO much for helping me with this sometimes unbearable grieving process. You have a true gift. Thank you, Dana</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" jscode="leoInternalChangeDone()" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><br />
<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-88504126825123381912011-11-25T19:02:00.000-08:002011-11-25T19:02:44.083-08:00Letting Go for a Divine Plan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Cookie"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7byPEHjFwJVfnYSSSCLJtX5l6_s_ty3eKcPls5tiFJGDaOkepWvGBGQ2fO-Jn1DSxeMIbum0Hv6fiK-9IFGHmW29BEXO3inZOtku-3mpeAo8dgjCxhh1bWsG2N3O3lrRFDIRuom4cCGnC/s1600/cookie+copy+forblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7byPEHjFwJVfnYSSSCLJtX5l6_s_ty3eKcPls5tiFJGDaOkepWvGBGQ2fO-Jn1DSxeMIbum0Hv6fiK-9IFGHmW29BEXO3inZOtku-3mpeAo8dgjCxhh1bWsG2N3O3lrRFDIRuom4cCGnC/s320/cookie+copy+forblog.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><h6 style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="messagebody">To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.</span></span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<span class="messagebody">~ Mary Oliver</span></span></i></h6><div class="MsoNormal">I was contacted via e-mail by Jan, a distraught cat owner in France. Her cat Cookie was spending almost all of her time at the neighbor’s house and Jan wanted to know why. Since Cookie and Jan were in France and I was in New York, we decided Skype would be the best way to have a session.</div><div class="MsoNormal">This was my first attempt at making a connection using Skype, so I was not sure what to expect. I found it was no different than any other animal communication and Cookie and I connected easily.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cookie is an orange and white cat. At first glance, she appeared very ordinary, but once I connected with her I knew immediately she was very special. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Once we connected, Cookie took me around her world giving me a tour of her surroundings. I described to Jan every detail that Cookie showed me from inside the apartment to the courtyard and finally the neighbor’s door. Jan confirmed that was what their environment looked like.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then Jan expressed how heartbroken she was at Cookie’s continued absences. Cookie was now spending all of her time at the neighbor’s coming home late at night only to eat. Jan wanted to know what she had done wrong.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cookie told me to remind Jan of when she had been ill and how Cookie had been there for her. How she helped heal and comfort her. Cookie said she was now doing the same for the neighbor. The neighbor was very sad and depressed, someone in the house was sick. I asked Jan about this and she confirmed that the neighbor’s husband was quite ill. Cookie let me know that was why she was spending so much time at the neighbor’s, to lend support to the woman who was feeling alone and going through a very rough time in her life. Cookie was there to help her heal, the same way she had helped Jan heal and many others before Jan. Cookie believed that was her purpose in life, to help others and believed that she had had the same purpose in many other lives. In fact, Cookie revealed that she had been around thousands of years ago, during the time the Egyptian pyramids were being built. In that time and place, Cookie was known by another name and was revered. She had lived many lives and always she had been a healer.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Jan, a spiritual person, understood her cat’s quest but still missed her terribly.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cookie insisted she had to help the neighbor through her ordeal, but that she would return to Jan soon. Cookie said that she would visit with Jan from time to time, but that Jan’s family must not to try to trap her in the house. She needed Jan to let her go about her work. Jan confirmed her family did try to trap her in the house and Cookie became upset by this. Jan promised she would not let this happen again and would honor Cookie’s work and freedom. Jan agreed to leave her door open so Cookie can come in for food and head rubs.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Epilogue</div><div class="MsoNormal">Jan now understands that Cookie is only doing her job, but she can’t help but to feel a little hurt and rejected by her leaving. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Jan has since moved on in her own life and release Cookie to the universe. This was not an easy thing for Jan to do, but there are times in our life that people and animals come and go and we all need to move on and release them so they can continue their Divine Quest. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Cookie is only doing what she was placed on earth to do and will continue to do throughout this life and many more to come.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Cookie the spirit healing cat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" jscode="leoInternalChangeDone()" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-39586240859387849202011-06-10T04:25:00.000-07:002011-06-10T04:25:38.085-07:00Ant Meditation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4p2slb7l6TjYzc0tVGYecyrocZZ7oqf7W55sOTFPQxzZGSbD__Et-ytT9m2A1cdgdinqGp6U5MtNlyOKc9cl1Gqt7Y9w6180WfefkvkqnYqkVqx1Q6lKKQeswjnyLQFLFQrLjk9omhiZR/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4p2slb7l6TjYzc0tVGYecyrocZZ7oqf7W55sOTFPQxzZGSbD__Et-ytT9m2A1cdgdinqGp6U5MtNlyOKc9cl1Gqt7Y9w6180WfefkvkqnYqkVqx1Q6lKKQeswjnyLQFLFQrLjk9omhiZR/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" /></a></div><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><strong><u><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Meditations on the Ant</span></u></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">An awareness of a perfectly engineered frame endowed with incredible strength makes me feel capable of anything. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Energy and power propel my legs at lightning speed over <span class="yshortcuts">Mother Earth</span>. I sense food nearby and stop to hone in on the source, I adjust my course and soon am there. I sample the food and finding it good, I send out the message to my sisters. Once they arrive, we all feed together. Now we must carry the rest of the food back to our burrow. The purpose of our task surges us with a surplus of strength and we each carry all that we possibly can. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We trail one another back down our tunnel into the <span class="yshortcuts">earthy life force</span> of Mother Earth. In the inky darkness I rely on smells and touches to lead me to where I must deliver my gift of food; Food for our future, food for our children, food that our community will grow in number and in strength. It is with honour that I perform this work.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><em><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Teachings from the Ant</span></em></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Working with selflessness that others may thrive fills one with a <span class="yshortcuts">sense of purpose</span>, of duty and of place in a community. Go out and perform a good deed whenever the opportunity arises.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><strong><u><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ant Haiku</span></u></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Super strength and speed</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Labouring with the many</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Harmony for all.</span></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" jscode="leoInternalChangeDone()" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-88628020163846154682011-03-21T18:21:00.000-07:002011-03-21T18:21:51.206-07:00Pigs on the Brain<div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGa84rJ16CfwJBhwrdYEsdEDNWaNLgI59PECAQ4_OJfKrncPNHC5eX5tQSFkiBmWp-vuez1km7o66ppsaqZLbCxYhl9CjqLggtbQJJbzWnlCCdITKo3gfT6RUkmzbqXk7dtv6FDc5dVk6d/s1600/abby+rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGa84rJ16CfwJBhwrdYEsdEDNWaNLgI59PECAQ4_OJfKrncPNHC5eX5tQSFkiBmWp-vuez1km7o66ppsaqZLbCxYhl9CjqLggtbQJJbzWnlCCdITKo3gfT6RUkmzbqXk7dtv6FDc5dVk6d/s320/abby+rose.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><u><br />
</u></strong></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My daughter Abigail had been obsessed with the thought of having a guinea pig for more than a year, but we were reluctant to add yet another animal to our already full household. Our current menagerie held a hamster, a cockatiel, a dog, a cat and several fish. <span> </span>Then Abigail started writing books about guinea pigs. First she wrote “The Christmas Guinea Pig”; followed by, “What if You Give a Guinea Pig a Cookie”; and then, “The Ice Skating Guinea Pig”; “The Guinea Pig Goes to School” and 3 more titles as well. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband and I knew this latest obsession was not going away. I thought this would teach her responsibility. My husband thought, “Not <i>another</i> animal.” But in the long run we agreed to get her a guinea pig.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So we began researching guinea pigs and then went to several pet stores shopping for a suitable pig. I had no idea there were so many different breeds of guinea pig. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After much searching, Abby settled on a young female with brown and white fur. <span> </span>She deliberated carefully over names before settling on ‘Rose’ when the guinea pig began nibbling on some plastic roses that were draped over the post of her bed.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Abby delighted in her new pet and they bonded quickly. They played on Abby’s bed and the kitchen floor. They would play chase and Rose would take carrots from Abby’s hand. She would brush and feed Rose every morning and again every evening. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then despite the remarkable friendship Abby and Rose had begun; as new ventures sometimes do, this one too began to lose its sparkle to a certain 6 year old girl. <span> </span>Not terribly, but I would have to ask her to take the guinea pig out: explain to her how unfair it was to be in a cage all day. Abby was still responsible for feeding Rose every morning; of course it was me placing the food in the bowl and leaving it on the kitchen table to remind her to do so. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then one day the kids went to their Nana’s for a long weekend. I had the house and all its inhabitants to myself and that was when I discovered what a wonder we had in Rose.<span> </span>I fell head over heels in love with a rodent, what an amazing rodent though.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first time I took her out on Abby’s bed, she skipped and jumped with bliss to express her total delight in some playtime and attention. <span> </span>My dog Maggie came in and Rose ran to the bedside to try to engage Maggie in play. Maggie would approach the side of the bed and Rose would run over first circling, then rubbing her nose against Maggie’s before dashing to the other side of the bed making happy piggy noises as she went. Maggie would meet her again at the opposite bedside and Rose would spin in a circle, make a few wheeking noises and then dash to back the other side. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Joy! This little rodent was playing and showing pure joy! I found myself laughing out loud at her silly antics. As the weekend went on, I found I was looking forward to our daily romps and smiling to myself just thinking about the little guinea pig. When it was time for Rose to come out, I put her on the bed and sat down next to her. She climbed right up on my lap. I snuggled with her and she pressed herself into my stomach where she curled for a moment before nuzzling her head under my arm. <span> </span>She was showing me love and affection, and so much from such a small creature. What could I do but return it?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I must admit it took me by surprise. Who would have thought this little animal could have such a hold on me. Who would have thought a guinea pig would have so much love to give and so much joy to share.<span> </span>To give love and joy: how simple, how generous, how wonderful. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The weekend ended and Abby came home and told me that she had missed her little friend Rose. We took Rose out of her cage and I showed Abby the new things we had been working on while she was visiting her Nana. I told her that Rose would now come when you called her. Abby tried and was thrilled when Rose responded. I showed her how Rose appreciated a good snuggle and that Rose had even made a new friend in Maggie.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Abby and I now both look forward to our morning and evening romps with Rose; we even read bed time stories to her.<span> </span>We are both deeply in love with Rose and I know she loves us.</span></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div> </div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-14254226938378823232011-02-24T18:27:00.000-08:002011-02-24T18:27:07.092-08:00Meditation Run 2/24/2011<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv91SLUF6Gt-wRPctIluggWy3lgglLSELVzDEy0ocpdBaEAhEfx58y8fjM-FC_sb9JSiW1cHRWMqh27TCnOO5Xp1OYIlBinbfH4QPO03ajOhtj_A-yIHuB9EcsAlWm1EUA5i3E0eNinpvp/s1600/foxes.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv91SLUF6Gt-wRPctIluggWy3lgglLSELVzDEy0ocpdBaEAhEfx58y8fjM-FC_sb9JSiW1cHRWMqh27TCnOO5Xp1OYIlBinbfH4QPO03ajOhtj_A-yIHuB9EcsAlWm1EUA5i3E0eNinpvp/s320/foxes.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><span class="yshortcuts"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I enjoy running. It is a form of meditation and exercise for me. I am not a fast runner or a crazy distance runner. I am an average runner, 3 to 4 miles 3 times a week. I always bring my dog Maggie. As soon as I get my sneakers on there she is bouncing up and down trying to be the first one out of the door. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">These past couple of weeks I have been running around a lake and I find myself getting lost in my meditations. Once I run a little way, I start receiving messages and thoughts from my guides and it has been very rewarding. But on my last run I had something happen to me that I have never had happen before.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I had reached the 3 mile mark when I noticed a woman in a <span class="yshortcuts">fur coat</span> taking her mail out of the mail box. As I got closer to her, my head filled with a vision of frightened animals, the fear in their eyes as they beheld scattered body parts and rivers of their own blood, I was horrified. My eyes filled with tears and I felt vomit rise in the back of my throat. Maggie sensed my upset and her hackles stood up along her back and she began to bark fiercely at the fur coat clad woman. These visions were so gruesome, so heart wrenching, why had my guides shown me these, what was I supposed to do with them? I know what goes on with the making of <span class="yshortcuts">fur coats</span>. I know how terrible it is. Why sicken me with these visions on my normally joyous run?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I re-collected myself and Maggie and we continued on our run and my answer quickly came to me. I have to let others know, to tell my story. To have them feel what it is that I felt from the animals' point of view. To tell them the fear and suffering the animals go through. How wrong it is. How we must change our way of thinking that animals have no feelings. To let people know they should give animals the respect and love they deserve. To leave well enough alone. Let the animals live the life they deserve. To grant them the freedom they deserve. They are our gifts from God. They are to bring us joy. If we go on killing these animals for pure sport or fashion or for their land we will not be able to enjoy them any more for they will be gone. Only to be told about in a story. To never have our children’s children enjoy the sight of a wild wolf, fox, <span class="yshortcuts">Polar Bear</span>, etc...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">To learn more about anti fur check out this link. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> <a href="http://www.antifursociety.org/">http://www.antifursociety.org/</a></span><br />
<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-62919762616053722242011-01-23T13:59:00.000-08:002011-01-23T13:59:14.241-08:00African Elephant Meditation<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kantyhAeWZD5-er83JWNKvuwx28urcb5AGj2SZd4TEHkI5AzAa4x7Q6uDKu6-2MMvOCgt0GtVBQSFuBiUqI0ttYXd-t378zv1C4cEPU4O3C3Yfuh0C-GLscj-CjcILwmA6GsfHBph23o/s1600/african_elephant_326360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kantyhAeWZD5-er83JWNKvuwx28urcb5AGj2SZd4TEHkI5AzAa4x7Q6uDKu6-2MMvOCgt0GtVBQSFuBiUqI0ttYXd-t378zv1C4cEPU4O3C3Yfuh0C-GLscj-CjcILwmA6GsfHBph23o/s320/african_elephant_326360.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span><br />
</span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"></span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It is hot and dry. The air is heavy with dust stirred up by the passing of many enormous feet. The dust cloud expands around us announcing our presence on the plain.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My view is blocked in all directions by the mountainous sides of my sisters, aunts, cousins. I am traveling in the protected center with my calf. We keep a slow but steady pace. His short legs struggle to keep up across the miles. When he lags behind, a nudge from his aunt’s trunk catches him up.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">We pick up the pace as the scent of food pulls us forward. Soon we arrive in a green break across the brown plain. We stop for a much needed rest and feed.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I rip up huge mouthfuls and feed myself and I encourage my calf to nurse as we will soon be moving again.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">After too short a time, we start out onto the plain, the dust cloud enveloping us once again.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">My calf is bouncy and playful, his rest and feed have given him bravery as well as energy. He runs up behind a young bull and tries to tug his tail. The young bull is offended and gives a swift but gentle kick to end the foolishness. Bereft of bravado and seeking comfort, my calf returns to my side reaching up to me with his trunk. I touch his side offering reassurance and we keep moving.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The most tantalizing scent crosses our path and we turn as one to follow it. Soon we arrive at a watering hole. We take turns drinking, spraying, then sliding down delightful muddy banks to sit and bathe in the wonderful cool water.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I drink my fill and playfully douse my calf to his utter delight.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Too soon we must be on the move again. </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Before long the setting sun signals us to stop for the night. The herd forms a circle around us and now my obstructed view is a comfort. My calf and I can rest without fear so surrounded by our relatives. </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I pull my calf close to me using my trunk to carefully check for any injury or harm. Finding none I caress him contentedly slipping off to sleep. Rest my child as tomorrow brings more travel and more teachings. </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Teachings from the African Elephant</span></u></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">It truly takes a herd to raise a child. Our duty as parents is to protect, teach and love our children. We must bear the burden of responsibility bravely, without complaint.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 14pt;">African Elephant Haiku</span></u></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Acres of loose skin </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Huge ears long prehensile nose</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Sentient as us</span></b></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-66313191188906346852010-10-21T04:38:00.000-07:002010-10-21T04:38:33.735-07:00Nature Over Nurture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_pE6upOvCTkFi3j6wmgIOXr6jMqfy6BVM_Fr9hoIN92cHugVKW_4EemYZOiHtD-7GMhjqsBEk8bVyIgDp8tME6gBXP4mDGMqCZGIEE63L3h1Ha8rQNyXppYneBl3noSYA6m1zyVvemY/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_pE6upOvCTkFi3j6wmgIOXr6jMqfy6BVM_Fr9hoIN92cHugVKW_4EemYZOiHtD-7GMhjqsBEk8bVyIgDp8tME6gBXP4mDGMqCZGIEE63L3h1Ha8rQNyXppYneBl3noSYA6m1zyVvemY/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" /></a></div><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><strong><u><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Nature over Nurture</span></u></strong><b><u><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br />
</span></u></b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br />
Good intentions don’t always guarantee success. That was the case with Linda, Annie and a dog named Peggy Sue. <br />
Linda and Annie were both avid <span class="yshortcuts">animal lovers</span> and shared their home with several birds and dogs, all rescued adoptees.<br />
Their passion was nurturing these deserving animals back to health and happiness in their loving home.<br />
Linda and Annie’s newest adoptee was an adorable Schnauzer who had been rescued from a <span class="yshortcuts">puppy mill</span>. Her life in the puppy mill was misery and abuse; she was confined to a cage and bred to bear one litter after another and that was the entirety of her life experience.<br />
Linda and Annie brought her home knowing she needed lots of work but believing with patience, love and positive socialization, she could become a wonderful addition to their family. They named her Peggy Sue.<br />
The first days were completely overwhelming for Peggy Sue, so many new things all at once; stairs, couch, carpet, furniture, even grass and dirt. So many new textures, smells and possibilities after a life in a metal cage, Peggy Sue was thrilled!<br />
Linda and Annie introduced her to the other <span class="yshortcuts">family dogs</span> and birds and began the task of house training. Everything was going well, Linda and Annie had so much experience with rescues, Peggy Sue could not have asked for better guides into her new life. <br />
Several months went by and Annie called me with heartbreaking news. They had lost one of their birds, a <span class="yshortcuts">Cockatoo</span> who had been with them for many years had been killed by Peggy Sue.<br />
Linda and Annie were devastated by the loss of their cherished companion. They had both worked very hard acclimating Peggy Sue to her new home and teaching her the rules. But Peggy Sue had been relentless in harassing their birds. <br />
Reprimanding her helped when they were home, but they had to be able to trust her when they were not.<br />
They tried gates which she scaled. They tried crating her away from the family as punishment. They tried every trick in the book, but Peggy Sue could not be trained out of her fixation on the birds.<br />
It all came to a head when the cockatoo let himself out of his cage and Peggy Sue was there to see it. She went after him and he died instantly.<br />
Linda asked me to communicate with Peggy Sue to try and find out why she persisted in this behavior and what could be done to train her to stop.<br />
When I connected to Peggy Sue, she showed me a feeling like a zap, a sort of electrical charge that flooded her senses when she saw the birds or any animal smaller than her. Once she felt that charge, instinct took over and training went out the window. It was so overpowering, she really had no control, nor could she comprehend why she was being punished for it. To Peggy Sue’s mind, she was doing what nature demanded that she do and therefore was correct in her actions. She really didn’t understand being reprimanded for behavior that felt completely ‘right’ to her. <br />
As Peggy Sue had spent so much time in a puppy mill, she had too much to digest all at once. Just going from a life in a cage to life in a home was enough for most dogs; but Peggy Sue had such a strong <span class="yshortcuts">prey drive</span> that it was too much to learn to control her instincts as well as how to make all the other adjustments to life with a family.<br />
“Can she be broken of this?” Annie Asked. <br />
I suggested an animal behaviorist. They might be able to give some instruction on how to deprogram Peggy Sue. But this was an expense they could not pursue and there was no guarantee it would work.<br />
I also felt so much tension in the once happy house; everyone was now walking on eggshells. <br />
Linda no longer trusted Peggy Sue and was still angered over the loss of the cockatoo. Linda simply could not overcome that right away.<br />
I also felt that Annie and Linda’s relationship was suffering. They were both torn to pieces over their loss and did not want to risk harm coming to another bird. Everyone’s nerves were frazzled, even the other dogs. <br />
Annie was both heartbroken from the loss of the bird and at the thought of failure with Peggy Sue. <br />
I let Annie know that they had giving her all they could. They had saved Peggy Sue from a miserable existence and with love had transformed her into a well mannered dog that would be someone’s perfect companion. Peggy Sue was just not right for their household. <br />
She would be better in a home by herself or with one other dog, but no small animals. Peggy Sue’s sweet and loving nature could really shine through if she wasn’t forced to constantly deny her instincts. <br />
The stress for everyone in the house and especially Peggy Sue had reached a critical stage. The best option for all was for Peggy Sue to be re-homed.<br />
The decision to let an animal companion go to another home, even knowing that it will be better for the animal is one of the hardest decisions an animal owner can face. It’s also one of the toughest things I have to tell a client.<br />
But sometimes it really is the best decision, best for the family and best for the animal. <br />
Linda and Annie were heartbroken by their losses. But they know they gave Peggy Sue a new life and that she will be happier in a different setting, one without so many temptations to overcome. And their household will be less stressed without the fear of harm coming to another bird. Annie and Linda did everything right for Peggy Sue, but sometimes it just was not meant to be. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Peggy Sue was placed in a loving home with one other dog. She has adjusted very well to her new owners and house mate. The new owners realize they are truly blessed to have Peggy Sue as part of their lives. She is a very well trained and loving companion. </span></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-21778628941204114562010-09-30T15:47:00.000-07:002010-09-30T15:47:25.257-07:00Commuication with my Cat Fred<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A Communication with My Cat Fred</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was outside in the garden when my cat Fred sauntered over to join me. As we sat together enjoying the early summer sun, I decided to check in with Fred. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My first impression was one of complete contentedness. Fred showed me his gratitude for being given the freedom to come and go as he pleases. He showed me secret cat paths through bushes and trees leading to an open field filled with sunlight. He showed me the simple pleasure of curling up for a nap in the sun whilst listening to birdsong and the scurrying of small creatures. He showed me the feel of a sinuous stretch upon waking and the joy of returning to his house and finding one of us to give him a nice rub and food. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He suggested that I should get out more too. I left our communication thinking what a wonderful and wise cat I had in Fred. How very Zen of him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><i><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Teachings from Fred</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Many of us spend too much time with our ‘must do’ tasks, either doing them, on our way to do them or worrying about doing them. We all need to remember the adage, “Take time to stop and smell the roses.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Set aside some time to go outside into nature and just be.</span></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-17944990122520379172010-09-23T11:51:00.000-07:002010-09-23T11:51:50.440-07:00Oil Spill<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14pt;">Oil Spill Meditation</span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXwZ3X_piMo9f8QfvlGJikUJYuf4bPBDw7zbfvjgNUnZbrTLSenF3alSUvnjarZOPftx9Bwip-_DixgBHi6vJAKdZIILlshXY6pM1Y-eHgPDjv69AySxaSNOEe6hmqYm2tf7PRfxxlKU/s1600/slide_6519_114989_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXwZ3X_piMo9f8QfvlGJikUJYuf4bPBDw7zbfvjgNUnZbrTLSenF3alSUvnjarZOPftx9Bwip-_DixgBHi6vJAKdZIILlshXY6pM1Y-eHgPDjv69AySxaSNOEe6hmqYm2tf7PRfxxlKU/s320/slide_6519_114989_large.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Brilliant blue water surrounds me and there are brightly coloured fish and corals everywhere I look. A small clump of seaweed undulates with the water, I look closer and<span> </span>spot a seahorse clinging tightly. I’m entranced with the diversity of life. A big silver fish glides over head and I follow him away from shore, some anemones wave as I swim past.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The water becomes colder and darker as we swim ever deeper.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some dolphins come up beside me. They tell me that they cannot go further, there is something strange ahead. The water smells and tastes different, they are confused. This is the way to their hunting ground, they have traveled this way for generations. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They don’t know where to go, where they are, everything is wrong with their navigation system. It’s worked for millennia, was perfected over millennia and was destroyed in an instance’s carelessness.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A school of fish approaches, hysteria has taken over, they are as disoriented as their dolphin counterparts.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I cannot help these animals in their confusion, but I try anyway, I must. I send out a white light of protection with the message to avoid these waters. They seem to take some comfort in the white light, but my message conflicts with their instincts and their instincts are stronger. They have to continue on their way, they have no choice. I send more light and more light with the hope that they will listen to my message, my pleas.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They continue on.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I send more light, more light….the oil covers it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This Oil spill is still affecting the under water animal. Please send Light and Love. </span></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-91772068266640484122010-09-09T05:08:00.000-07:002010-09-09T05:08:30.140-07:00Example of my Meditations I enjoy meditating on different animals and at times they send me messages. Here is an example of one of my meditations.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCXBl-7nEoPzk7yD_P-i_QqCnvbszIPhpLNPXjjBZpshZt9VopEqAp4SoHnG_3Z0B78a1wzxEahFdnGisAVbcdtY7xO_mG-nMO7JCvhdx_i5oUPScb9TIkk-OhvDx1Tt39E-Vd5JvhZ0/s1600/Humpback_Whale_underwater_shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCXBl-7nEoPzk7yD_P-i_QqCnvbszIPhpLNPXjjBZpshZt9VopEqAp4SoHnG_3Z0B78a1wzxEahFdnGisAVbcdtY7xO_mG-nMO7JCvhdx_i5oUPScb9TIkk-OhvDx1Tt39E-Vd5JvhZ0/s320/Humpback_Whale_underwater_shot.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Meditations on the Humpback Whale</b><br />
<br />
At first, all senses are overwhelmed by the vastness of body. Yet for all this mass, I am so light in the water. I am weightless. In the current’s flow, I take a downward flight to the cold, dark deep. There I find solitude, a stillness that is sacred and pure.<br />
<br />
I turn to the dim light far above and begin my journey up. The water warms with my ascent. I break the surface embraced by the sun’s heat. My back follows my head up, I take in a giant breath of clean air as the long curve of my body cuts the water’s surface, finally lifting my tail out to kiss the sunlight and air before sliding back into the depths.<br />
<br />
Back into the silence of the sea to be covered again by the pure solitude and peace of the Divine.<br />
<br />
My existence in solitude is pure beauty.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><br />
Teachings from the Humpback Whale</b><br />
<br />
Everyone needs to experience solitude. Make a time and space for yourself to dive in and feel the pureness of the Divine surround and fill you like the waters of the sea. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Humpback Haiku</b><br />
<br />
Grand form surfaces<br />
A fluted tail waves good-bye,<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Downward again swims.<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Karen McCormack</b><br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-79905704029374944692010-08-30T18:35:00.000-07:002010-08-30T18:35:43.982-07:00Red-tailed Hawk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2WNrKiKsoDxS0E7lWdZ8EJKGctKUT_eXLWmzMb_S5QsCK5KbBJWDUOtfNxY8phd-poK5UgHzxykIvNajl3EUsujKJrrZoiLYk4FArcpVBLwJv9ZOOnRgtNYM-wed00oOXHEnNp7Hax0/s1600/IMG_4215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2WNrKiKsoDxS0E7lWdZ8EJKGctKUT_eXLWmzMb_S5QsCK5KbBJWDUOtfNxY8phd-poK5UgHzxykIvNajl3EUsujKJrrZoiLYk4FArcpVBLwJv9ZOOnRgtNYM-wed00oOXHEnNp7Hax0/s320/IMG_4215.JPG" /></a></div>Red-tailed Hawk<br />
<br />
I thought I would begin this blog with a little about my art work and the discovery of my power animal. <br />
I do animal portraiture in pastels on sanded paper. For many years my work has focused on dogs, cats and farm animals but I have recently begun to do paintings of wild animals. I am currently working towards a one woman art show that is set for March, 2011, in New Jersey. Around the same time I began to paint wild animals, I began to focus on them during my meditation practice and then I started receiving messages from them. I received one life changing message from my power animal, the Red-tailed Hawk. Here is our story.<br />
I was researching power animals in order to give a class about them and one day I noticed a Red-tailed Hawk calling to me in my backyard. I thought,” That sounds nice,” and went back to preparing for my class.<br />
After that, I started to notice the hawk a lot; on my drives around town, on my walks by the river and in my back yard. Then one day on my morning run around my neighborhood, I saw the hawk in the distance. It headed right towards me, flying just over my head.<br />
I stopped and stood still. The hawk circled above me three times. I could hear the hawk in my head and so I asked, “What? What are you trying to tell me?”<br />
Much to my surprise, I heard a response, “I have a message. When you are ready, you will receive it.”<br />
At this time in my life I was just starting to focus on my animal communication. I had not stepped out into the world to let others know about my ability. I was not ready. I was afraid of what relatives and friends would think. Maybe the hawk sensed that and knew I wasn’t really ready for my message. Thankfully she didn’t give up on me.<br />
Months went by and I could hear my hawk calling and would see her from time to time. She was always in the back of my mind, so one day at work I was completely shocked to see someone carry in a hawk with a broken wing. I thought she was the most beautiful animal I had ever seen. I was in awe holding her, studying her face and her wings. She was just incredible. Even in what must have been an alien environment to her, she remained completely calm while we worked on her. She knew we were helping her, she knew her recovery depended on her co-operation and indeed, after a few weeks of rehabilitation she was completely recovered. <br />
But what was my message? If I was supposed to receive a message from a hawk, this would have been the time. Why were so many hawks suddenly in my life? What did it all mean? <br />
Then one day it all came together and I got my message. I was on my way home from work driving down the road towards my home. To the side of the road I saw a Red-tailed Hawk. I happened to have my camera, so I pulled over and got out. I walked right up to the hawk and asked if I could take her picture. She agreed. I got within 3 feet from her. Clicking away with my camera she decided that if she moved up on to a rock wall the photos would be much better. Click, click, click away with my camera. <br />
I stopped and thought that maybe she was hurt. Maybe the carcass she was holding in her talons was stuck, wrapped around her leg. I moved closer to her and picked up the carcass carefully pulling on it. She looked at me and pulled back. I pulled again, she pulled back. I gave one more tug and she looked at me and released the carcass. <br />
She gave me her food. She gave me an offering. <br />
There was my message,“You are ready to communicate with animals. It is time to give your gift for others to learn and to help. It is time for you to go and follow your Divine Plan.” <br />
It was that clear. I knew what I had to do, what I needed to do. The next day I booked myself to do readings in public. I started a website, had business cards made, started a FaceBook page, group page and now a blog.<br />
<br />
The Divine has lead me and I am following. I ask no questions, I just do and it has all been good, very good. I am thankful and humbled by this gift. I am pleased and honored to share it with all who believe and want to learn. <br />
I still see my friend the Red-tailed Hawk. She has a family now that she is raising in the woods behind my house. I hear her call; it wakes me in the morning. I thank her every day for the messages she has given me. <br />
<br />
<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Karen McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411488901596711427.post-42919208585314384202010-08-29T16:10:00.000-07:002010-08-30T07:11:41.562-07:00WelcomeTo all,Hi Everyone,<br />
Welcome to the Whispers from Animals Blog. I will be posting stories about my animal communications and my animal art works here; there will also be listings of upcoming art shows and local events were you and your animal companions can come and meet me. Some of you know about my book in the works and I will be posting some sneak peeks here from time to time, so check back often.<br />
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Thanks for visiting,<br />
KarenKaren McCormackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03853532572085932544noreply@blogger.com0