Here Comes the Judge...

Distortion …disruption … fluctuating field … these are some of the keywords for now, and while I've just written about the explosive energies April is showering upon us, I was still caught without my frequency attunement wand, because we're all playing the game:

On Friday evening, after singing the praises of the organic hot bar and deli at a food co-op that just opened in my town, I went there for dinner. I sampled a few of the evening's dishes (the menu changes nightly, as the Culinary Institute of America-trained chef likes to experiment) and was ruminating about my choices when a young woman with a nose ring and toddler approached me. I'd seen the child cavorting earlier and smiled when the woman asked, "Are you going to buy something?" I thought perhaps she was going to ask if I could get some cash back for her, so considering in a fraction of a second whether I wanted to do this, I replied "Maybe." Then, to my surprise, she added, "Well, I've just seen you sample everything…"

I said, "Oh, do you work here?" She said "Yes, and we've had a lot of problems with people tasting the food for free and then leaving." Starting to get annoyed (especially as I'd just spent weeks telling everyone in town how terrific the place was), I told her I was a regular, and that she was welcome to ask the kitchen staff to vouch for me. She said, "I already asked them." Incredulous, I asked, "And they said they don't know me?" I then named a certain male cashier, who has been my checker virtually every time I've shopped there. She said, "He's off tonight." At that point I lost it, and went to the kitchen staff myself, asking if one of them could go to bat for me. Rachel (names have all been changed) said helpfully, "Well, you do look like a homeless person" — I was wearing a flannel shirt and loose capri pants.

By this time I was livid, and Melissa (who'd launched the inquiry) had disappeared. Rachel eventually found her in another section of the large market and told her I bought food from the deli "at least once or twice a week", but the damage was done. I ate my dinner in a cortisol flood.

Fast-forward to last night, after I'd regained my equanimity. The sweet young deli worker, who had told Melissa, "Oh yes, she comes in here all the time!", shared an amazing story of her own: earlier on Saturday, she (Celestia) had been "profiled" when she went shopping at our local hardware store, which offers a 20% discount on Saturdays. Celestia has a part-time job as a gardener, and Ace Hardware offers an exceptional outdoor division. The store was very busy, and Celestia didn't need any assistance, yet, she told me, an employee shadowed her while she shopped — even following her up to the register, where she spent $125! Oh, did I mention that Celestia is young, wears dreadlocks, and sports a nose ring and facial tattoo?

So we both saw the humor in the entire episode: I'd thought Melissa was panhandling me because she was young, had a nose ring and a toddler; she'd thought I was freeloading because she saw me sample several dishes, my clothing was loose and casual, and she heard Celestia's "She's here all the time" as sponging! We were all judging from misinterpretation.

How do we grow beyond assumptions based on race, age, appearance, and other external differences that make us the unique souls we are? We have white-collar crime, and blue-collar saviors who create programs that uplift and heal communities. And we're still so quick to cast the first stone.

How do we segue from being nuclear reactors to becoming seedlings for a new humanity, a New Earth Nation, learning from Gaia how to live relationally? It's a challenging time to hold our center while holding change; the more we can appreciate the humor of the moment and respond not from habit but from a story re-write, the faster we evolve to a 5D, heart-centered species.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go get a nose ring.

What's Needling You?

Several times today I felt my clothes attack me. Once when I was out walking this gorgeous autumn morning. I plucked at the label on my shirt, and went on. An hour or so later I felt the stab again. The label didn't seem that rough, but it certainly was bothersome. I moved it and thought about cutting it out later. Then I visited my favorite consignment store, where I tried on both pants and shirts (hence removing all my clothing, and getting dressed again.)

Driving to the library, I felt that stab again. Perplexed, sitting at a red light I reached carefully to the point of pain and to my astonishment withdrew…a needle and thread! I burst out laughing. How is it possible that my pants (for this is the color the thread matched, though I don't recall mending them recently) made it through a wash and dry cycle, onto my body, then off and back on, all with a needle intact?

It's another example of Spirit's delicious sense of humor. At first I thought, "needle in a haystack," though no resonating images came to mind. But when I wondered what might be "needling" me, I had to smile. There are so many irritants vexing us these days, as Uranus and Pluto square off in the heavens and we face our underworld demons and rebellious, quixotic, breakdown/breakthrough events here on earth.

The key is to follow the thread to magical, mystical moments in positive expectation, unattached to outcome, unafraid. It's a tall order, and one we are all capable of stepping up to and into. We're swinging wildly between connected, congruent, 5D transparency and understanding, and 3D anger, disappointment, overwhelment. It's OK; it's all good. When life needles you, find out what you need in that moment, and thread your way to the next adventure. Haystacks have baled. We can, too: bundle with your besties, and carry on…