God prefers that you become it....activating your youth and dna strands.  Before you can heal self you must hold your own peace...be the receptive state.   Envision healthy dna strands going up and down your spine and now stack them and watch them sparking and giving life to your form ( they look like number 8's).   You are to command that the strands be made whole and perfect.    You might like to add colors, listen to your guides. Blue is for cleansing, pink relieves pain, green is for healing and white is protection and strength.  In doing so you may add a petition or a mantra to be of service to all in need.  Next you are ready to talk and listen to your cells.  Encase yourself in a shimmering, wavy golden light that moves up and down your physical properties.   Trust and state what you want done outloud.  In asking what is wrong with the cells you may hear, be shown in a vision, or drawn to a area that needs help.  When participating you will feel energy flowing, radiating, unconditional love.   While desolving a tumor, tell the debris to leave the body and tone or hum to vibrate the chords and cells of the tumor to be released.   Cancer cells are told to turn into normal cells and kept healthy.  Continue to scan body from head to toe and give thanks to the creator for the rejuvenation and reduction of the effects of aging.  You will want to drink water and crave fresh ness in all areas of your life.   If you are seriously in need of repair the few days afterwards may find you with less energy and embedded stress related emotions surfacing.  On the other hand you may be so awakened that you don't sleep well and so on again this will eventually disapate.  Confront all things in truth and in the now,  meet self with mastery and inner conviction.

 

That lined has been with me ever since Dutch comedian Freek de Jonge used it in a stand up comedy show somewhere in the 80's. He was bent on explaining something to his audience, and asked himself out loud: "How do I tell my kids?", before starting to explain them something.....

I found myself in a situation where similar prowess was required: while my two ladies are on Shaiya (a 3D online RPG), their friend Tinus and I came to talk about body and soul, and how it's connection to the body hinders it from knowing a lot. Tinus is a clever kid, and quite inquisitive. He asked me to explain, so that line from Freek came to mind...

I thought about it, and having recently been cooking us dessert, the analogy came rather easy: starting with the idea that the soul needs to lower its vibration in order to inhabit the body. I figured it easiest to envision by using the example of a pan, with a lid on it. If you start a nice fire beneath it, the water increases its vibration all the way into the gaseous state. Heated sufficiently, the entire pan and its hermetic lid enclose a volume of superheated steam. That steam however, like the human soul in a body, does not know its true, free state: in that true state it could not possibly be contained in such a narrow vessel. 

I think he got the message, but I'm quite sure I haven't answered the last of his questions.....

Love your curious kids,

Dre'

 

I figure I don't have to explain the term 'stone cooking', but just in case you thought it is done in the backyard like the barbeque, I'll just be a little superfluous  and tell you this myth from way beyond the turn of the last millennium:

Back then, it was a tough time, and people had little to eat. Everyone was scrounging together the best they could lay their hands on, thinking only of those they held dearest.....

Then one day, in one of the poorest villages around moscow, a stranger arrived. People secretly looked him over, trying to  assess if there was anything to get off of  him. When one of the bolder kids asked him flat out, the traveler answered: "I have not food as  you know it in this bag, but the stone that is in there makes a mean stone soup!"

Of course the villagers were intrigued, to say the least. They convinced the traveler to show them how this 'stone soup' was made. He told them they'd need a large cauldron, half filled with water, and a nice toasty fire to heat it. The village smith still had a cauldron in his workshop, and went to fetch it. Others ran off and came back with armsfull of nice and dry firewood. Together they built a campfire, and suspended the cauldron over it with a trio of long, strong poles tied together at the top. The wanderer ceremoniously pulled the stone out of his bag, and held it above his head for all to see. "That's not magic!" called someone, and the crowd began to mutter. "May I remind you that magic itself is not visible? To all, this is an ordinary stone, yet those who have tasted its magic, it certainly isn't!"

He concluded his oratory by solemnly placing the stone in the already lukewarm water, and had them sit down around the cauldron in a large circle. After a few minutes, the unbelievers already began to get uneasy. In order to apease them, the traveler hinted: "You know what would make the stone soup a lot nicer?  some nice large carrots!"  A woman ran off, and returned with four whoppers of carrots. The traveler pulled out his knife, and stood of the pot, slicing and dicing until his arms nearly fell of.

When he sat down again, the butcher next to him whispered he had a bunch of chopped up meat stashed away, for when things got tough. "That would be lovely too!" the traveler replied, and pretty soon the butcher was adding his two cents to the cauldron too. It began to become quite cosy around that fire, and a few more well-placed hints had food streaming in from all over the village. With every donation the smell of that soup had more and more people wondering what it tasted like. The wanderer kept them talking, while the soup brewed. Stories were swapped in the meantime, and bowls were organized to be able to eat the soup.

When the soup was done, the people waited in a neat line to get their share. And after they'd finished that, there even was enough for seconds, which everybody wanted. After it was all gone, the traveler lifted his now considerable cooled stone out of the cauldron, and wanted to put it in his bag. The mayor of the village stopped him however, and offered him the entire stash of taxes he'd collected over the years, just to acquire that stone for his citizens.

"So I can be filthy rich by selling you this ordinary stone?", the traveler asked. "What do you mean? The stone is magic, you said so yourself!". The traveler explained how the magic was not in the stone, but in the story woven around it. In fact the magic was in the humans who, drawn to the alleged magic of it, came up with a little magic of their own, and what little food they had left. Nothing else made them have that delicious soup!

And because I had neglected to do some shopping this week, I had to resort to  stone cooking myself: Here's the recipe for Dré's Deep Purple Macaroni.....

(in a while, still waiting for the photo to arrive on my laptop)

Needed:

- one bag of elbow macaroni

- one pot of red cabbage and apple, 350 gr.

- three medium onions

- one smoke sausage

Put on water for the macaroni, and add a bit of salt. Meanwhile dice the smoke sausage, and peel and cut the onions into parts according to your own preference. Bake the sausage first in a wok, stirring it regularly so the browning is quite even. Add the onions, and continue baking and stirring until the water for the macaroni boils. Empty the bag into the water, and stir until it is boiling again. Set the cooking clock for the 8 mins or as indicated on your macaroni, and add the red cabbage and apple to the sausage and onion mix so it can heat up too. Mix it thouroughly, so it  gains a certain amount of oneness. When the eight minutes are up, taste a few elbows, to make sure you didn't underdo it. Then drain the water, and put the mixture into the macaroni pan as well. Mix it up, and you'll have enough to feed three of four, depending on their appetite.

Enjoy you meal,

Dre'

 

Had one then, and I have one now, intimately interwoven with our gazillions of other dreams. And like Martin Luther's mine isn't a normal sleeping dream.

Oh, I had those too, at least as a kid. And they often weren't that friendly! I most vividly remember one involving a gold fish, and a game of running man, or rather running boy back then: I was meandering thru some huge building, that for some reason felt like a school. I still remember entering one room and finding a really big goldfish in a tank on some sort of high table: it was so high I actually had to look up to it!As I did, it winked at me, and I was totally terrified, because that day in school I had just learned that fish can't blink for lack of eyelids!

I really broke the land speed record for humans that night, and not just because of the goldfish: every corridor I ran through had the lights going out right above my head! Woke up sweating from head to toe, and I don't know for sure anymore, but I don't believe sleep was still a safe place that night!

But time heals all, and nightmares became more and more sparse. At some point they stopped, but what remained was flat, inconsequential. I dreamed, and sometimes remembered fragments, but that was it....

Then the Web told me about lucid dreaming, where you learn to detect you are dreaming, and then jump in and shape it to do whatever you want. I tried the various things, like electronic gadgets or certain foods before sleeping. Somehow though, it wasn't for me, because I never got the hang of it. I'm funny that way, I just can't do what some others do just like that. Those images full of colored dots that turn into a 3D image when you look at them in a certain way? Can't do it! But I can construct the birthing process of a ball lightning right in my mind, no paper and pencils required.

After the lucid dreaming craze, remembering dreams became a rarity. And if I did, the stories were all weird somehow, but at the same time totally acceptable. Except that one time, quite some time before I actually heard I would become single again:

First person perspective, lying face down on top of a huge white arch. And I do mean HUGE! I reckon ground level would have easily been a mile away, just follow the direction of gravity. And someone had actually taken that first step: Linda was dangling from my outstretched arm, and being the voluptuous being she was, something wasn't quite right! I tried whatever I could, but just imagine that feeling of slipping fingers, and the woman you love becoming smaller and smaller, heading for something you know you can't save her from...

So when the divorce loomed, I did just what the dream showed, simply because it hadn't been really clear to me what it meant to tell me. Afterwards I figured it probably had nothing to tell me, other than providing a dress rehersal so the eventual crash wouldn't break me.

I still don't remember many of my dreams, but I'm dead sure my nights are not spent just lying around either! At times I used to wake with this nagging pain, right between my shoulder blades, which felt like my legs feel when I've been running. Could it be that the wings I use at night give me trouble in the morning, even though you can't see them then?

Isn't it weird, that some said to me I'm a Guardian, and that both my novels have me playing a similar role? In fact, I even feel like that during day, like at the station: standing mostly alone, eyes never fixed on anyone in particular, but at the same time seeing them all! The moment someone makes eye contact, it's time to move on....

And of course dreaming the whole day through, because those are the dreams I do remember vividly!

I've given up trying to remember my nightly dreams, simply because waking life has already been feeding me a steady stream of wild syncs anyhow. And I know for sure that whatever I do in my sleep is all working towards whatever dreams I may set for myself while awake. And if you know it's all good, why ask for confirmation?

And since this article took me the whole trip home, I figured it was finished and sent it before leaving the train. This one had actually quite a problem stopping in the right place, because he parked those thousands of tons of steel right at the end of the platform, about a hundred meters later than usual. And then, opening the door and getting out, I nearly bumped into this:

It may be hard to believe, but this ad is for Coelho's new novel called the Guardian. At least that is what 'Beschermengel' stands for in Dutch. And if you think I just heard about the book and decided to mix it in, then you can find the timestamp of my phone camera in the bottom right corner, honestly! Isn't that a coincidence weirder than dreams? Writing about being a Guardian, and then stepping off the train right in front of that ad board I'd never seen?

Love your Dreams, always!

Dré

 

Had one then, and I have one now, intimately interwoven with our gazillions of other dreams. And like Martin Luther's mine isn't a normal sleeping dream.

Oh, I had those too, at least as a kid. And they often weren't that friendly! I most vividly remember one involving a gold fish, and a game of running man, or rather running boy back then: I was meandering thru some huge building, that for some reason felt like a school. I still remember entering one room and finding a really big goldfish in a tank on some sort of high table: it was so high I actually had to look up to it!As I did, it winked at me, and I was totally terrified, because that day in school I had just learned that fish can't blink for lack of eyelids!

I really broke the land speed record for humans that night, and not just because of the goldfish: every corridor I ran through had the lights going out right above my head! Woke up sweating from head to toe, and I don't know for sure anymore, but I don't believe sleep was still a safe place that night!

But time heals all, and nightmares became more and more sparse. At some point they stopped, but what remained was flat, inconsequential. I dreamed, and sometimes remembered fragments, but that was it....

Then the Web told me about lucid dreaming, where you learn to detect you are dreaming, and then jump in and shape it to do whatever you want. I tried the various things, like electronic gadgets or certain foods before sleeping. Somehow though, it wasn't for me, because I never got the hang of it. I'm funny that way, I just can't do what some others do just like that. Those images full of colored dots that turn into a 3D image when you look at them in a certain way? Can't do it! But I can construct the birthing process of a ball lightning right in my mind, no paper and pencils required.

After the lucid dreaming craze, remembering dreams became a rarity. And if I did, the stories were all weird somehow, but at the same time totally acceptable. Except that one time, quite some time before I actually heard I would become single again:

First person perspective, lying face down on top of a huge white arch. And I do mean HUGE! I reckon ground level would have easily been a mile away, just follow the direction of gravity. And someone had actually taken that first step: Linda was dangling from my outstretched arm, and being the voluptuous being she was, something wasn't quite right! I tried whatever I could, but just imagine that feeling of slipping fingers, and the woman you love becoming smaller and smaller, heading for something you know you can't save her from...

So when the divorce loomed, I did just what the dream showed, simply because it hadn't been really clear to me what it meant to tell me. Afterwards I figured it probably had nothing to tell me, other than providing a dress rehersal so the eventual crash wouldn't break me.

I still don't remember many of my dreams, but I'm dead sure my nights are not spent just lying around either! At times I used to wake with this nagging pain, right between my shoulder blades, which felt like my legs feel when I've been running. Could it be that the wings I use at night give me trouble in the morning, even though you can't see them then?

Isn't it weird, that some said to me I'm a Guardian, and that both my novels have me playing a similar role? In fact, I even feel like that during day, like at the station: standing mostly alone, eyes never fixed on anyone in particular, but at the same time seeing them all! The moment someone makes eye contact, it's time to move on....

And of course dreaming the whole day through, because those are the dreams I do remember vividly!

I've given up trying to remember my nightly dreams, simply because waking life has already been feeding me a steady stream of wild syncs anyhow. And I know for sure that whatever I do in my sleep is all working towards whatever dreams I may set for myself while awake. And if you know it's all good, why ask for confirmation?

And since this article took me the whole trip home, I figured it was finished and sent it before leaving the train. This one had actually quite a problem stopping in the right place, because he parked those thousands of tons of steel right at the end of the platform, about a hundred meters later than usual. And then, opening the door and getting out, I nearly bumped into this:

It may be hard to believe, but this ad is for Coelho's new novel called the Guardian. At least that is what 'Beschermengel' stands for in Dutch. And if you think I just heard about the book and decided to mix it in, then you can find the timestamp of my phone camera in the bottom right corner, honestly! Isn't that a coincidence weirder than dreams? Writing about being a Guardian, and then stepping off the train right in front of that ad board I'd never seen?

Love your Dreams, always!

Dré