It has never worried or irked me that all people's use herb lore, share herb lore, or tarot, the Jesus, crystal lore etc. I have always acknowledged a lineage of thought line, whether learned, DNA or accessed through spirit.

I have been fasting, turning off monkey mind and have found some interesting starting points, around my journeys through many cultures.

If those seeds of Mauri had not of been planted so many years ago, if those seeds of Lakota, Sioux, had not been planted, if those exercises of Tibet and India had not come together, with the original people's of Cairns, who gave me emu totem, without my European genealogy, I would not of walked the Vietnamese killing fields or been in Cambodia, clearing water ways and releasing confused and hurt children and I would not of recognised the place and time of prophecy.

I would not of had the songs to sing whilst walking the tree of life. I would not of known the rhythm to which my feet and stick should walk the Broad Highway of Dream World and this, united.

I guess this is the colonial danger of a woman of the Love All Tribe. Seeing the necessary boundaries of culture, knowing the mission is to love All people's. Greater, to see each child raised as treasure, knowing their connection to Earth, to Air, to Fire, to the Water, that is life and the Spirit that runs through them All.

Respect for all tribes is the Emu totem.

How I wanted them to be Cassowary eggs, upon my face. Rather close minded and stubborn than, hiding my head in the sand (yes an Ostrich, that's how little I knew). Emu sounded so plain, so boring, Cassowary were so beautiful, deadly.

Little did I know, that the Cassowary is an emu that has given away its bright plumage and overt aggression.

That the Emu flies the night sky, with its feet never leaving the ground.

I joked the paintings were Cassowary eggs and they were hatching on opening my mind. They were and they did. A long time was spent in heart, trying to get that head to expand in equal dimensions, transmuting a lot of fear. How could we do this? Be so presumptuous to believe that every life, from stone to person is sacred. That everything has a story. Everything.

So, not eggs but eyes, it took me a long time to see.
Respect for all tribes, stone tribes, air tribes, people tribes, respect.

If someone breaks your protocol, assume they come from a place of not knowing your ways. Correct, teach, allow that they have their ways too. Songs are made to be shared.
Unique parts of the whole make beautiful harmonies when singing together.

When I look around and see prophecy in action, and am asked, what did you do? I will say I grew a garden, of seed heirloom and those to be.

And I would say, if you want to feed Others, then you must have a garden too.

In peace, strength and love

 P.S.
Am still feeling in and around Ariki Pa, Starlore 2020. My head is still in the place of Other. (Probably a good time to come in for a reading ;) )
I made ceremony with Emu, came back and was gifted with,
"It is ok, just as you do not understand others ways, they do not understand yours. The important thing is to remain open and come from that place of love. Some things are universal. The stone people  know."
​

Much love,
​Juhl xx

As many of you know New Zealand has experienced one of its worst acts of violence in a while. It doesn’t matter if it is a false flag or not. It is portrayed, seen and experienced as a violent act. 
It really is time to explore how image perpetuates and reinforces cultural stereotypes and stigma.  
New Zealand was hit by a white male terrorist, as the multicultural tensions, lie just beneath the surface, cosying along in an uneasy mix, rather like when you put too much oil in the mayonnaise.  And that kind of uneasy evil exists to be exploited. You build a society on lies and how can it produce anything true, just and good? 
 
There has never been peace, reconciliation, justice and truth between the Indigenous people of New Zealand and its system of governance. Luckily so many people benefit and have benefited from those systems, that they, can employ sticks, isolation and poverty induced coping mechanisms, such as drugs and alcohol, that those, who are not benefiting, may be on benefits, are not heard, seen and are marginalised to the point of institutional-ism, prison counts.  
​
The Greater Good, is simply not good enough. The good of All is so much better deeper, but it takes time. Time to consult, time to think, to feel, to respond. This was the type of consultation process we were promised under MMP. Iwi with their own individual takes on things were supposed to be consulted as part of the governance process, on everything. But that took and takes, time and funding. 
Who has the time to consult, with terrorists knocking at the door? Who has the funding for a truly consultative open process, when there are police to arm and blames to be laid, “one must been seen to be doing”. 
 
Times of extreme culture shock should not be times for creating policy. Shocked brains are good for programing though. Fill those flighty brains with pre prepared speech of spells, recipe for Majick, MK, and whatever those slightly ahead of the ball want to “push through” almost guarantees more Control of private lives. 
So my pic and it’s contribution, the Lady is wearing a War Bonnet, it is very unusual for a Woman to be given a War Bonnet, incredibly sacred. Thank you Tom. But she would not be given it in the Buff, or dressed as my woman was. The equivalent of “Black Face” and part of the sexualising of Indigenous Native American women, who disappear in high numbers, every year.  Pretty deep aye. Now if that kind of perpetuation is within me, what might be within men, raised on these pictures as part of Playboy Centerfolds. Well, the first pic in the series, where they still have some covering. 
I was working on “I am not the Warrior, I am the Weapon”. As a life concept, and for a lady who has had her life changed through, wolf, bear, eagle and buffalo, who swims with otters, wearing a war bonnet, hit home.  You either ‘know’ me, or you don’t. ​

Please believe me, if I had of known this was going to be a "thing", I would have used better paper.

{Me culturally appropriating a meditation style, whilst being all culturally appropriative, contemplating Avalon}

This week has been amazing and tantalising. 
You know when you have sudden flashes of insight, glimpses where the whole picture comes together, and boom, before you can record it, or hold onto the idea to translate, it's gone? 

Well, I got to retain some...

I had this insight, about how people are going to perceive what they want according to their beliefs and programs, regardless of where you are coming from. It’s as if the whole human having sex giving birth experiment is just too yucky and the results can’t be controlled, so let’s close off that thread and let’s do it subtly, across as many layers as possible. 

We witnessed what a mass coming together of Magickal Beings could and can do in the aiding of Tasmania's forest. 

Perish the thought any other forces could be working across many layers, through all varying types of Magick to hurt, or destroy humans. Three different shows this week, saying this is the last generation of Homo-sapiens.

Try and try and search my memory banks, I cannot find a “God” who thrives on human sacrafice, blood and flesh. I can find “stories” of beings that feed on different energies, in particular the kind of energy produced by fear in blood etc. Are these the kind of entities you want to mingle with? Are you sure we haven’t been sold a bill of goods, a program, on what “evil” is? 

Could there be a group of people who are sitting at the bottom of the Satan spiral, or sphere, collecting all the fear etc from the stories and weird things they have managed to con others into doing, with a slurpee like funnel, breathing all that madness and mayhem in, getting stronger and stronger. Could someone of set up an archetype, so that every time you perform and act to get rid of the “stories”, it is perceived as an act of war, and your energy is added to it? Especially if you are coming at ‘the Satan’ in anger, or vengeance, more of the energies ‘the Satan’ has been set up to catch? Don’t forget you can set up the Luciferian matrix, so that the more you are attacked, the more energy you gain... 

Tim Rifat is my favourite teacher on this energy practice.

Could there be people doing the same with Angels? Sitting at the bottom of the Angel spiral, or sphere, directing that energy in ways they imagine you would want...What is consent when working for the greater good? 

It is big, it is deep and Dark Moon has been and gone. It is time for our first, real and deep internal audit of the year. Not the I have achieved this goal one, but the I feel this way one. The one where you let your highest version of self, enter your heart and ask, “Hey, how am I doing?” The one where you sit and listen to the reply. Own that reply, forgive yourself, we are human, we are flawed. Do we need to be pulled and swayed from a truth of who we are again? 

Everything on Earth is part of a food chain. If entities are feeding on our lower energies, some beings always take the easy way out, and if “Higher Beings” are feeding on our higher energies, are we consenting in that? And what if you don’t want to be food, is there an answer? I suspect not. Even a Sovereign Soul is gathering energy from somewhere, even as we try to be discerning about where our attention and energies flow. 
 
5g or EMF is real, and it flows across all dimensions. If you have been on the aether or in C space, you will know what I am referring too. It is very easy to loose myself in the world surrounding me, which has no chemtrails, lots of trees and very little in the way of wifi or electric signals pulsing. Yet I am very aware of what others have going on around them.  

The photos of beheaded trees in Ireland and England have threaded through my news feed, as starkly as others portray dead or wounded civilians after a failed bombing (perhaps successful in some eyes). Both are distressing and both are gruesome. Mowing down whatever is in our way may be deemed human, though I have very little in the way of recollection of violence, as an original earth inhabitant, I do remember it arriving. This latest push, is humans working on behalf of AI. Arcturians are claiming a successful interface between people's minds and the 5g grid, really worth thinking about. 

When anything claims, to be here only for our good, yet has that kind or maneuverability and pathway of interface, I get the hebejebees. Alien abduction is, from all sources an incredibly brutal process, for which all the abductees seem to swing around with, “but I made it a good experience”. Is that the interface, Arcturian or not, controlling perception? How long before neural networks are so taken over, all perception is controlled from elsewhere. Yes, I know many say it already is, in which case, nice job. I like where I am at most of the time. It is only when coming into contact with social media or the News, I have pause to think, really? Really?  
 
I felt really hurt by the connotation that, society had now reached the place, that the world is to treat bottle feeding as natural. 
 
I also felt uncomfortable with a post I saw on love being a four letter word, just like shit. It doesn't take much for a sensitive person to retreat from the environment or paradigm, New Earth, that is growing, has been reached, is strived for. I don't think I have ever felt so alone as when I stood up for myself. In public among, spiritual people I love. I relied totally on the those who know, to use their instincts and feeling of me, I live by my instincts for them. I'm not mucking about here, I only do public, but I only do public dissension, when my heart is going twang. 

In those initial moments I may not have the words, to express why something is catching my breath. But I know my connection is being twanged and I stick with it, too tease out why. 
I think this may of happened to a friend of mine this week also. I posted this picture

I thought the picture was strong, bold and beautiful. But, as Orchis82 pointed out, it is really appropriative of Indigenous American Culture. If you had of said that Brian, I would of gone Wow, you are right, and taken it down. Either way, I am very sorry to of caused anyone grief and to of been unthinkingly racist. I will do better.

Any hoo, if you made it this far you deserve some tech. 

This is from an Intensive I did with Dr Steven Farmer. His Earth Magic Cards, which I have and use, are beautiful. His songlines are expansive, yet seem to run deep. The Art work within the cards and the meaning were gifted to him, through exploration and from many ways. Hopefully that means that everyone involved in producing the system has made their money and are now o.k. with it being used, they wear the spiritual designer label after all :p  Yes, Dr Farmer is a Hay House graduate, so very slickly produced.

In meeting though, I witnessed a story, whereby the Being, Dr Farmer was speaking with, and the way Dr Farmer spoke, painted pictures, that became living moving images, so clear I could see the rings of smoke rising from their pipes, as they sat around a campfire in ceremony. The conference room was transformed through that alchemical magick that is the Shaman’s gift. For some this would be Bard skills. Beautiful to be among, witness and experience. Incredibly hard to fake. 

And that is where we seem to be in time, isn’t it? 

Somewhere between the slickly produced, needing to make a dime to survive and the educational letters, that don’t recognise the authenticity of being, as something worthy of being supported and trusting that if we only love harder, create and release, acknowledge and resist the temptation of “Selling Out”, control the narrative by which knowledge is derived, arrived at and circulated, and discredit any source, but the old white man’s narrative and use any device available to do it and love.
 
We are in an age where you can be condemned for an image, a comment, an opinion, or anything. As long as it shuts you up and down. Remember, many are still hooked into that Lucifairian grid system and that is fed by “attack” like energy. Calling that kind of energy out, including the Michael grid, brings all sorts of beings to the party. They all use energy to feed. So do you. Hold your energy in close. Center in love and heal their ancestors, sooner or later all Ancestors have a starting point, there will be a place where Bloodline, or Thoughtline intermingle, heal those spaces. Or, generate your own balloon, archetype, box, sphere thing and siphon any energies directed at you into it. Be the one sucking on the slurpee, because you have the ability to transform that energy into something new also. From what I am seeing you will not have long to do it though, as the replacement grid system, that Michael one, it's about to slam home. Fu*k you Empire.

Here is a lesson from Dr Farmer’s course “Healing Ancestral Karma”.

Many have been practicing this exercise every two weeks, for the last four years New Moon/Full Moon. I can see results. Not least in the way people, flawed but loving people, are trying to get occult knowledge out, and the way the reasoning and agendas behind that knowledge release, are becoming increasingly aggressive, as we work out just how partial, harmful and flawed, a lot of that esoteric knowledge is.
 
Read the meditation a couple of times, and give the journey a try. If nothing else it will help your visualisation skills and offer another line of support in troubling times.  

Healing Ancestral Karma  

When trauma happened to, say your grandfather especially as a child, if this trauma changed his DNA, as we now know environment can do. Then this means that this damage was most likely, passed on down too.  

And will continue to be passed down. Consider- 

Cancer, Domestic Violence...things handed down through families. I pray you are having a light bulb moment (I did). 

What we are going to do is heal, not you, but an Ancestor, through all directions in time.  
  
Time.
Well, this is a tricky and philosophical one. 

The only time that actually exists is NOW...NOW...NOW... if you get my drift. 

You see the past has happened, and the future hasn't. Some how this gets extrapolated on out, so that in theory the only time that "actually" exists is. ..now. 

Therefore, anything done now, may affect the future (we know this), but also the past, because now is the only time that "actually" exists. We can change it, remember that boring class at school, how it took forever to get through. Remember that movie, 2 hours flew by. Rather, our consciousness can change it.  

Many scientists now argue, time, is the only constant. Then they get so technical, it does my head in. 
But I can see, that time might stretch across, forward or back, more as a sphere, whereby we are the central point, as well as only being...now.  
All we really need, is to understand that healing an ancestor from the past, in the Now, will work. 

This time we are going to heal an ancestor from up to three generations back. 
First off set your intention. Think of an ailment that is currently harming you. Be bold, perhaps cancer or an addiction, (this will help you sign post the process working).  

During this meditation you're going to place two chairs in front of you, for your parents, then four chairs behind them for their parents and eight chairs behind them for their parents. So that's parents, Grand parents and Great Grand parents. You've got it. 
Don't be surprised if this ailment doesn't come from the male or female you thought it did, because there are ancestors behind these ones that might be the originators. 

Sit in a chair...Breathe deeply, push the in breath down into the stomach, fill up with as much as possible till your bursting, then hold for a slow count of three, then release as slowly as possible and really push the air out. Thinking Yes, on the in breath and release fear. on the out breath, repeat another two times. 

Then, just relax, try and maintain the tummy breathing, slowly and steadily. Imagine roots emerging out of the soles of your feet, splitting and spreading travelling down through the earth, the grass the soil and on down right to the heart of Mother Earth, Gaia or Papa as you know her. Lock those roots in solidly, feel supported and balanced by her nurturing nature, breathe and enjoy the stillness. 

When you're ready breathe up through your roots the beautiful light of earth love, feel it travel in spirals around your spine, up through the crown of your head to emerge as branches of light, splitting and reaching up past the sky, through space to the sun, imagine those energetic little branches being warmed and rejuvenated. Give thanks to your ancestors for being alive. Breathe feeling totally supported and loved, at one and at peace with the universe. 

Then when you're ready draw down the light, all the way down through your crown, allow this light to fill your body, breathe and relax, draw this energetic healing light filled with earths love into your heart center. Pause here breathe in and feel the love, again thank your ancestors, call on your Angels, your spirit guides, whoever it is that makes you feel safe and rest, relax and breathe, with them, in the moment in the now. 

And then, when you're ready, see two chairs in front of you, behind these place four chairs, and behind these place eight chairs. Take your time, breathe and solidify the chairs. 

Then when you're ready, ask your ancestors to come forth and sit in the chairs, you may be able to see and identify each, or they may appear as lights, or you may just know they are there (some may be on after this world business), and when they are, thank them for coming, and giving you this opportunity to be with them. 

Then when you're ready, explain that you would like to heal the ancestor who is responsible for the chosen ailment, and could this ancestor please show themselves. The ancestor may stand, glow or be pointed out by a bright light, however they are announced, trust this process and go with it. 

Then once identified, raise your hands, palms directed towards your ancestor and unleash all that energy gathered before upon them, open your heart and again unleash the three streams of healing love and energy straight into your ancestor. Push love from your heart, your eyes and your palms.  Give and give and give until you feel you have little else too give.  

And then, noticing how well your ancestor looks, take your hands and place them over your heart ask your ancestor for healing, feel all that energy you gave out return, even stronger filled with more love than you thought was possible. 

And then when you feel so filled up your ready to burst, direct the energy towards your children...then grandchildren (even if they have not been born yet). Ask that this healing be sealed, through all directions of time.
Give thanks again to the healed ancestor, then all of your ancestors for showing.

Wiggle your fingers and toes, open your eyes look around the room, and think well done, wow I did it! 

Because yes, yes you have. 

Even though you can repeat this process as many times as is needed. DO NOT REPEAT FOR TWO WEEKS, after each attempt. This allows time to filter through, trickle down and trickle up, the healing. Plus, it will give you the opportunity to go Wow! this actually works. 

I am looking forward to hearing the results from those of you that are taking time to follow this process. 

A little story, my husband and I have four grown to almost, children. We both smoke cigarettes. According to statistics 3 of those children should be smoking too. On the course we both chose addiction (alcoholism and gambling being problems too). So as to get a double edged, from all angles forever, stop, on the problem. Any how...Our children are statistical anomalies, they don't smoke, drink, or gamble. It was not until after the course. upon thinking of how time works...We wondered... 

Don’t forget, if you would like a reading, or to talk, you can contact me here.  
I’m finally getting the house into order and accepting traveling guests. Have already hosted my first traveler. It was a lot of fun, there is definitely something too face to face interaction.  
 
Much Love 
Juhl xx 
 ​

It was in the stillness of the dawn, that quiet time, where breeze dare not blow, for fear it's voice would stir more than the leaves. Before the birds began their greeting of a new born sun upon the horizon, spreading fingers, awakening all within reach, that she realized...if she wanted to get anything done, she had to switch off Facebook! ​

Whilst others danced with Angels and played with Masters, the last human stood alone. 
Listening as Starseeds spoke of a place they couldn't wait to leave. Watching as Others raped and broke her home. 
If they would only leave one unspoiled realm, where bare feet could once again caress the sun warmed soil. She would make that place her home, a sanctuary of healing ways and the life of old would be reborn.  
But who would she heal? The creatures long gone? The plants changed beyond health, beyond life enhancing abilities.  
What left, the last human. ​

Oft times, peering through the woods, between the trees offered fleeting glimpses, of people long past and those yet to be. 
Always, just beyond vision, little touches of spirit, between the birds, between the creatures scuttling. Always just beyond, just between.  
 
Why the foot met stone and stopped, has ever been a wonder. The warm sensation of the rock, retaining heat of summers day, gave pause. Melting tension as she stretched, arms uplifted, mimicking the trees surrounding, the mingling of old with new, eyes closed...she began to see. ​

Eyes closed...she began to see. 
The sounds of leaf and stream, bird and breeze, intertwined, playing in symphony and sympathy. The scents of earth, leaf, flower and Sun, melded, combined with the sounds, a sensuous dance upon her soul. Sensations, emotions, before unnoticed, a depth of feeling so intense, overwhelming, as lightning fingers tripped along her spine, forcing eyes open in attempt to escape. Yet even then, now, the world revealed was so very different.  
 
Where once the leaves had traced gentle arcs on the wind, brilliant jewels of emerald green trembled in delight anticipating the warmth of the sun. Every stone, once grey and never noticed upon the path, shone in stark relief to its neighbor, a network of individual blue, green, gold, pebbles working in unity, aiding and protecting the plants of their forest clan, from the careless foot fall of Man. 
And there, no longer just beyond, no longer just between... And there, no longer just beyond, just between... ​

It was the nose you saw first. Potatoes of old, lumpy, dusty, as freshly pulled from the earth, were more attractive than Jon's nose, bulbous didn't cover it. You know the old men who have spent a life on Whiskey and Gin, topped with a touch of regret? Well like that only bigger! 
As a wee lad of around three, Jon's father had died. Leaving him the only child of a mother already much worn by toil and the early loss of his siblings. 
Earth to till, seeds to plant, cow to milk, eggs to collect, wood to chop, as the years cycled through Jon was pleased to take more of his mother's load. The ingrained dirt of foot and under nail, unnoticed in his pleasure at the sight of Mother resting the achy gnarls of body hard worn since youth, before the warmth and glow of the fire. 
You can perhaps imagine the young Jon's chagrin upon the age of ten, when informed his mother's younger brother was arriving to "give care" of the place. A lot of pride was in the now well muscled Jon, had he not been good enough? Yet as he opened eyes into the maturity arrived on too soon, he had to cede, with just a tad of resentment, that the roof shingles were indeed in need of replacement, the barn a total rebuild and perhaps another, older, hand around the place would be nice. And if he were truly honest the thought of meeting mother's Kith and Kin, real from beyond the stories, held a touch of excitement and more than mild curiosity. ​

Feet thumping, fists pumping, heart pounding, terror filled, Jon ran. There are sayings around the surge of energy Jon experienced, running "as if the Hounds of Hell were at his heels" and I wish I could say "terror guided his feet", but in actuality Jon was blind with panic. He fair flew along the pebbeld path. Sweat filling his eyes, ragged breaths grasping for purchase through parched lips. Faster, Faster, home, home... 
 
Gentle rolling. 
Pain. 
Darkness.  
"There, There, boy." 
 
Strong hands. Strong arms. Pain. 
 
Darkness receding. "I'm blind" thought Jon. Deep voice, gentle hands, pain, sleep. And so it was, as Jon lay in bed, listening to the sounds of wood being chopped and chickens being fed, as the swelling that had closed his eyes became less and the pain fueled nausea became less, Jon sat by the window, watching Uncle, mow the hay, dig the house garden and lay a gentle hand on Mother's shoulder.  
 
By 50, as the Grand babies cut their teeth on the lumpy Potato of ole Jon's nose, as the family tell tales, before the fire, Uncle whittling, Mother knitting, Wifey cooking, the story of a boy, who ran from change, ran from fear itself, is a favorite.  
 
And there, along the pebble path, a Sun warmed rock smiles, remembering the time it met young Jon's nose. ​

Much, much love
​Juhl xx

I often wonder, when entering space, on the marks, that time leaves.
I walked into my office, now with mattress on the floor, as a young one is home. An extra layer or sprinkling of magick, of mermaids and floaty, flying things, with bohemian, hippy accents and flowery soft perfume, greeted me.

Gracefully jumping the mattress, I sent my, bits and bobs box, sailing, the draws closing as it tumbled. A timely reminder yes, but it was the way the layers of sage dust, cat fur, powdered frankincense and myrrh, just for  a moment, caught the light and fair folk were there, within vision. As the floaties hit the floor. They became dust. Something to be cleansed, cleaned and cleared. Got rid of, cast off.

Endings of dreams long ago, some fulfilled and others languishing, in the dustpan, with brush, afore the rubbish bag.

The big pieces of our layered lives, we pull out, examine and explore.  But the other stuff, the drifting skin cells, the ashes of yesterdays incense, we brush, we blow, we scrape away. Hoping our lives retain a patina, a polish of high sheen, that someday one shall  notice, think of and enjoy.

​The Devil is in the Details.

If you would like to book a reading you may find me here.

In peace, strength and love.
Juhl xx