Samhain is passed. All the of the spirits have been appeased for the year. And even if they haven't, their yearly visa to this dimension has expired, and the last transport has left.
Just the living and the ghosts remain. (And maybe the aliens... are humans, collectively, ready for the uniting "other" to appear in the sky?)
Samhain begins at sunset because for the Druids, a new day began when the old one went to bed-- in other words, when the sun set. As the day began in darkness, so must the year. Samahin to Yule was the dusk to pre-dawn twilight of the year.
And from Samhain to Yule there is rest in all endeavours in the other world. There is far too much to do in this one, this mundane world, especially in years of abundance.
The harvest is over. But there is still plenty of work to do. Preserving, putting up, planning for the winter ahead.
And Yuletide dreams are beginning. Soon there would be only the small points of light in the darkness, and time to rest from the labours of summer.
There will be merriment, and new beginnings. And gifts, coloured lights, candies, much drinking and toasting, great logs to be burned with fragrant herbs. And long nights for reuniting with old friends, and sharing the year's adventures.
But until then, there are memories of the things we lost this year. Mourning for those that have died.
And the hearth to clean after summer's neglect. There might be a chill in the air. A moment of sharpness, until the fire is lit.
Stay warm.
With love from my heart to yours,
Lady Rae
ladyrae@gmail.com
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
THE FAMOUS 2008 SUPERBOWL EMAIL
Superbowl prediction
Saturday, February 2, 2008 6:58 PM
From Rachael XXXXXXXXX Sat Feb 2 16:58:46 2008
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Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2008 16:58:46 -0800 (PST)
From: XXXXXXXXX
View contact details
Subject: Superbowl prediction
XXXXXXXXXX (I erased the email addresses that I sent this message to.)
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Well, if you remember the incident last year where I predicted a team that wasn't playing, you will see this as the expirement I see it as: can I get good enough with numbers to live a lazy gamblers life?
New York Giants 17 Patriots 14
That is what I kept seeing. Then I saw
Patriots 22
I don't know. I am not confident enough to hit "everyone" on this mail, but to my friends and football fans, well, you know I don't follow the football, especially the American kind.
Friends in LA, I must tell you, I have not seen one betting sheet with the little squares. Who knew I would be homesick for something so silly?
Go Team!!!
EDIT: My 2012 post
http://laladyrae.blogspot.com/2012/02/superbowl-psychic-performance-anxiety.html
Saturday, February 2, 2008 6:58 PM
From Rachael XXXXXXXXX Sat Feb 2 16:58:46 2008
Received: from [70.130.172.122] by web81508.mail.mud.yahoo.com via HTTP; Sat, 02 Feb 2008 16:58:46 PST
Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2008 16:58:46 -0800 (PST)
From: XXXXXXXXX
View contact details
Subject: Superbowl prediction
XXXXXXXXXX (I erased the email addresses that I sent this message to.)
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="0-435351477-1202000326=:70172"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Content-Length: 2106
Compact Headers
Well, if you remember the incident last year where I predicted a team that wasn't playing, you will see this as the expirement I see it as: can I get good enough with numbers to live a lazy gamblers life?
New York Giants 17 Patriots 14
That is what I kept seeing. Then I saw
Patriots 22
I don't know. I am not confident enough to hit "everyone" on this mail, but to my friends and football fans, well, you know I don't follow the football, especially the American kind.
Friends in LA, I must tell you, I have not seen one betting sheet with the little squares. Who knew I would be homesick for something so silly?
Go Team!!!
EDIT: My 2012 post
http://laladyrae.blogspot.com/2012/02/superbowl-psychic-performance-anxiety.html
Monday, March 22, 2010
MOURNING HAS BROKEN, PART 2
(To see the first post, click here.)
The first time I remember meeting Karl K it was at a concert at Mississippi Nights in 1981, or thereabouts.
I was on the guest list. However, I was also underage and without an I.D. so they wouldn't let me in. (Or they were over capacity.) It was raining, and there was no one on the bus when the band went on. Karl was huddled under a little alcove in the side of the hill behind Mississippi Nights, listening to the concert as best he could.
He waved me up, introduced himself (we had seen each other around the Delmar "Wall"), and then proceeded to give me a narration about the concert. (I couldn't hear it as well as he could. The man had ears like a bat, even at 15 years of age.)
Eventually the band's tour manager, Geoff, came out and let me on the bus. Although I urged Karl to come with me, he did not, preferring to listen to whatever he could from his alcove.
After that, it seems reasonable that for the next three years I saw Karl at least once a week. (If I am not mistaken, he moved away in 83 or 84. I left in 85.) He had an encyclopedic knowledge of punk and British ska, and I recall him answering my music questions on one occasion, when we were both shopping in Vintage Vinyl.
He mostly hung out with a very tall man named Eric. Very tall Eric and not short but not really tall Karl were mostly a kind of silhouette I would encounter when roaming the Loop.
I sheepishly admit that in early July of 2007 I saw Karl and did not remember him. Now, at the time, I had just fainted in St. Louis Bread Company (anemia and iron deficiency) and broken my front tooth. I was not in the best of health, and I was also very embarrassed about my tooth. (I was headed back to L.A. at the end of July, and was waiting for my dentist -- and insurance-- there!)
I was handing out my pink "You are Amazing" flyers. It was Saturday afternoon and the Loop was hoppin'.
He stared at me for a second before exclaiming, "Rachael? Oh my god, Red Rachael?"
I nodded. He took off his sunglasses. "It's Karl, Karl -----!"
His last name is not one easily forgotten, but I did not remember him. No one had said his name to me for 25 years! I'd reunited with three other friends that I'd not seen since back in the day, but they were people I'd known well, and seen more than once in the last two decades.
I apologized profusely for my bad memory.
Karl named several encounters (not the Beat concert) and finally said "I used to hang out with Eric -----, remember tall Eric?"
Suddenly, it all flooded back to me: the Beat concert, he and Eric's familiar silhouette, and several random conversations we had had about PIL, ska, and politics. (I used to argue with EVERYONE about politics. I was a true zealot.)
Needless to say, Karl was somewhat offended that I did not remember him until he'd mentioned Eric. I apologized again. He forgave me. We exchanged numbers and quick bio's of the past 25 years.
I didn't really see him again until winter. The Knitters were playing Blueberry Hill. Karl and two other people that I had not seen in 25 years came and we all met for the concert. Unfortunately, one of the musicians turned out to be someone from L.A. and I was not able to really participate in the reunion.
(I spent most of my time talking to my musician friend at a booth, while Karl and friends were at the bar. Although, while three of them had known each other well, I was not able to share much. Not just my bad memory, but also just that I guess I have always done my own thing and been a bit of a lone wolf. )
I bumped into Karl more than once, in the Loop, and also on Delmar up near Lewis Park. The encounters were mostly inconsequential. We mostly commiserated on the St. Louis economy and job market, and the climates we'd left behind: Karl for Hawaii, and me for Los Angeles.
The last time I saw Karl it was shortly before I left to move back to Los Angeles in June of 2008. Karl was in Vintage Vinyl with an armload of records. It seemed he had run out of money in the "H"
section. He had some Herp Alpert, Hot Chocolate, and Don Ho (among other things I can't recall).
He was trying to decide what to put back. I only had a buck or two on me, but I gave it to him gladly. I knew he would have done the same for me.
Thanks to my joining Facebook, after returning to Los Angeles I came back in contact with many of the people from my Delmar "punker" days, Karl included. It was a big happy on-line reunion for all of us. (In some ways much better than a real reunion.)
Had it not been for facebook I would not have heard about Karl's cancer, and the twists and turns his struggle took. I returned to St. Louis in November, just as Karl either took a turn for the worst or was having a remission, depending on the person telling the story.
Ironically, I met one of Karl's cousins over the holidays, shopping in the boutique where I work. I had casually asked if she lived in the area. She mentioned her cousin was ill, I asked if I might know her cousin, and so forth.
I tried to call Karl a few times, leaving a messages with his father once and the answering machine. My phone service has been very bad here and I don't always get my messages. Also, my phone was shut off for non-payment when Karl died. So I don't know if he tried to call me back or not.
And I don't know if I would have been any comfort for him, anyhow. Like many people I've come back into contact with-- while "Red" Rachael was too radical, too atheist, and too political, at least she lived in the clear cut, material, empirical world. "Rae" lives in a world that few others inhabit and most do not really understand or relate to.
Would it have been helpful for Karl to speak to me before he died? To hear the stories other spirits have told me about the afterlife? Or would it have embarrassed him? Possibly disturbed him?
And I knew, anyhow, that if and when he died (I was rooting for his recovery right up until the end, even when it seemed all was lost) he would find me. Mediums are more popular with the dead than with the living.
And he did. He died on the anniversary of my grandmother's birthday. Truthfully, if he had not contacted me I might have missed the funeral. (They aren't really my cup of tea.) But for a new spirit, especially one that died during a lengthy illness, a medium's attendance at the funeral is very helpful.
The dead have no place in the world, no voice, no body. On this plane, as a ghost at a funeral (not in "the light" or crossed over), the dead cannot see the other spirits of the dead. They can only come back through memory or invocation (saying their name, making a space for them in the real world-- a candle, or bell or flowers).
The funeral is really the deceased last chance to participate in a group activity. True to form, even without a body, Karl did not ask for much or push too hard. Twice he asked me, if the opportunity arose, to pass on a message, "but not if it is a big deal."
I was very glad that I did go. Karl's people did him right, and he was happy to see all of his friends reuniting with each other! I even saw big tall Eric again, although I didn't recognize him at first.
He and his wife gave me a ride to work afterwards. It was during that drive that I felt Karl's spirit the strongest.
After Eric and his wife dropped me off I sat at work with the door locked for a few minutes. Karl was back with his mother, there were no human spirits living or dead. I was alone.
There is something very moving about taking a moment to acknowledge all that a human lifetime encompasses. It does not matter whether the life was 80 years or 40 years or 4 years. It does not matter if this is your first and only lifetime or if you have been here thousands of times.
We are all so privileged to share this time here with one another. And while this is true of everyone we encounter in this lifetime, whether friend or foe, it is doubly true of Karl.
We were lucky to know you friend. We will meet again, many years from now. Until then, farewell and safe journey!
--Lady Rae
laladyrae@gmail.com
The first time I remember meeting Karl K it was at a concert at Mississippi Nights in 1981, or thereabouts.
I was on the guest list. However, I was also underage and without an I.D. so they wouldn't let me in. (Or they were over capacity.) It was raining, and there was no one on the bus when the band went on. Karl was huddled under a little alcove in the side of the hill behind Mississippi Nights, listening to the concert as best he could.
He waved me up, introduced himself (we had seen each other around the Delmar "Wall"), and then proceeded to give me a narration about the concert. (I couldn't hear it as well as he could. The man had ears like a bat, even at 15 years of age.)
Eventually the band's tour manager, Geoff, came out and let me on the bus. Although I urged Karl to come with me, he did not, preferring to listen to whatever he could from his alcove.
After that, it seems reasonable that for the next three years I saw Karl at least once a week. (If I am not mistaken, he moved away in 83 or 84. I left in 85.) He had an encyclopedic knowledge of punk and British ska, and I recall him answering my music questions on one occasion, when we were both shopping in Vintage Vinyl.
He mostly hung out with a very tall man named Eric. Very tall Eric and not short but not really tall Karl were mostly a kind of silhouette I would encounter when roaming the Loop.
I sheepishly admit that in early July of 2007 I saw Karl and did not remember him. Now, at the time, I had just fainted in St. Louis Bread Company (anemia and iron deficiency) and broken my front tooth. I was not in the best of health, and I was also very embarrassed about my tooth. (I was headed back to L.A. at the end of July, and was waiting for my dentist -- and insurance-- there!)
I was handing out my pink "You are Amazing" flyers. It was Saturday afternoon and the Loop was hoppin'.
He stared at me for a second before exclaiming, "Rachael? Oh my god, Red Rachael?"
I nodded. He took off his sunglasses. "It's Karl, Karl -----!"
His last name is not one easily forgotten, but I did not remember him. No one had said his name to me for 25 years! I'd reunited with three other friends that I'd not seen since back in the day, but they were people I'd known well, and seen more than once in the last two decades.
I apologized profusely for my bad memory.
Karl named several encounters (not the Beat concert) and finally said "I used to hang out with Eric -----, remember tall Eric?"
Suddenly, it all flooded back to me: the Beat concert, he and Eric's familiar silhouette, and several random conversations we had had about PIL, ska, and politics. (I used to argue with EVERYONE about politics. I was a true zealot.)
Needless to say, Karl was somewhat offended that I did not remember him until he'd mentioned Eric. I apologized again. He forgave me. We exchanged numbers and quick bio's of the past 25 years.
I didn't really see him again until winter. The Knitters were playing Blueberry Hill. Karl and two other people that I had not seen in 25 years came and we all met for the concert. Unfortunately, one of the musicians turned out to be someone from L.A. and I was not able to really participate in the reunion.
(I spent most of my time talking to my musician friend at a booth, while Karl and friends were at the bar. Although, while three of them had known each other well, I was not able to share much. Not just my bad memory, but also just that I guess I have always done my own thing and been a bit of a lone wolf. )
I bumped into Karl more than once, in the Loop, and also on Delmar up near Lewis Park. The encounters were mostly inconsequential. We mostly commiserated on the St. Louis economy and job market, and the climates we'd left behind: Karl for Hawaii, and me for Los Angeles.
The last time I saw Karl it was shortly before I left to move back to Los Angeles in June of 2008. Karl was in Vintage Vinyl with an armload of records. It seemed he had run out of money in the "H"
section. He had some Herp Alpert, Hot Chocolate, and Don Ho (among other things I can't recall).
He was trying to decide what to put back. I only had a buck or two on me, but I gave it to him gladly. I knew he would have done the same for me.
Thanks to my joining Facebook, after returning to Los Angeles I came back in contact with many of the people from my Delmar "punker" days, Karl included. It was a big happy on-line reunion for all of us. (In some ways much better than a real reunion.)
Had it not been for facebook I would not have heard about Karl's cancer, and the twists and turns his struggle took. I returned to St. Louis in November, just as Karl either took a turn for the worst or was having a remission, depending on the person telling the story.
Ironically, I met one of Karl's cousins over the holidays, shopping in the boutique where I work. I had casually asked if she lived in the area. She mentioned her cousin was ill, I asked if I might know her cousin, and so forth.
I tried to call Karl a few times, leaving a messages with his father once and the answering machine. My phone service has been very bad here and I don't always get my messages. Also, my phone was shut off for non-payment when Karl died. So I don't know if he tried to call me back or not.
And I don't know if I would have been any comfort for him, anyhow. Like many people I've come back into contact with-- while "Red" Rachael was too radical, too atheist, and too political, at least she lived in the clear cut, material, empirical world. "Rae" lives in a world that few others inhabit and most do not really understand or relate to.
Would it have been helpful for Karl to speak to me before he died? To hear the stories other spirits have told me about the afterlife? Or would it have embarrassed him? Possibly disturbed him?
And I knew, anyhow, that if and when he died (I was rooting for his recovery right up until the end, even when it seemed all was lost) he would find me. Mediums are more popular with the dead than with the living.
And he did. He died on the anniversary of my grandmother's birthday. Truthfully, if he had not contacted me I might have missed the funeral. (They aren't really my cup of tea.) But for a new spirit, especially one that died during a lengthy illness, a medium's attendance at the funeral is very helpful.
The dead have no place in the world, no voice, no body. On this plane, as a ghost at a funeral (not in "the light" or crossed over), the dead cannot see the other spirits of the dead. They can only come back through memory or invocation (saying their name, making a space for them in the real world-- a candle, or bell or flowers).
The funeral is really the deceased last chance to participate in a group activity. True to form, even without a body, Karl did not ask for much or push too hard. Twice he asked me, if the opportunity arose, to pass on a message, "but not if it is a big deal."
I was very glad that I did go. Karl's people did him right, and he was happy to see all of his friends reuniting with each other! I even saw big tall Eric again, although I didn't recognize him at first.
He and his wife gave me a ride to work afterwards. It was during that drive that I felt Karl's spirit the strongest.
After Eric and his wife dropped me off I sat at work with the door locked for a few minutes. Karl was back with his mother, there were no human spirits living or dead. I was alone.
There is something very moving about taking a moment to acknowledge all that a human lifetime encompasses. It does not matter whether the life was 80 years or 40 years or 4 years. It does not matter if this is your first and only lifetime or if you have been here thousands of times.
We are all so privileged to share this time here with one another. And while this is true of everyone we encounter in this lifetime, whether friend or foe, it is doubly true of Karl.
We were lucky to know you friend. We will meet again, many years from now. Until then, farewell and safe journey!
--Lady Rae
laladyrae@gmail.com
Thursday, February 25, 2010
MOURNING HAS BROKEN
A man I knew died today. He was an acquaintance from the ragged gang of punkrockers that were found in the Delmar Loop back in the early eighties.
I want to write a homage to him but I have an urgent matter at hand. I thought I might make note of a few things that I have learned from the dead that comfort me when someone I love passes.
On the other side everything is complete. We say that "life" is "eternal" but there is no death on the other side, and no time. You have already lived, and you are about to live, and you have never lived. So your own spirit comes to meet you, and the spirits of all the people you love and care about also come to meet you.
A part of you is still here as a kind of "ghost". (Until the funeral, as far as I can tell, and sometimes longer, and in the case of really hard core empiricists, only long enough to experience "brain death".) But there is another part of you-- a more enduring part--that is already in "heaven" or the afterlife, or whatever you think of it as.
And you do seem to have as much choice in what you believe and experience in your after-life as you do here. However, I will comment that a family member that was a very strict religious person in life, encouraged me to use my gift as a Medium with her family. And then also a client's deceased friend that was an atheist dropped in with a message that she had been wrong in life to not believe in an afterlife. (Although she did not regret, nor was she in any punished for not believing this while she was in this life.)
If you have lost a loved one I can tell you it is like in the tv shows and movies. They are standing right by you, trying to comfort you. For them, it is just a blink of an eye until they will see you again.
Just remember them and speak out loud. Light candles, and place flowers, and pictures about. Tell stories about the person. The dead can come back to this dimension through our memories of them. (That is why happy memories are best-- so they don't have to journey through the bad ones to get to you.)
And all is forgiven. The number one thing the dead say to the living is "I love you." Love is what makes us live forever.
In Los Angeles spirits of the dead can get the white cabbage moth to do their bidding year round, although I also know a guy who comes with a rose beetle. And indoors in winter fruit flies are often the carriers of the dead.
Sometimes it is a little breeze, or a branch or twig snapping. Every now and again a bird, or small animal.
I'm sorry I don't have time to write more! Karl, you are celebrated, and you are missed!!!!
Rae
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