Coming out of the closet...so to speak

I channel. Ok, I've said it. Openly and publicly. I channel. I have been channeling for about six years, ever since I took Doreen Virtue's Angel Therapy Practitioner course and learned how incredible this is. And I studied Sanaya Roman's book, Opening to Channel, around that time, too.

Now I realize that some of you who have landed on this page will now navigate away from it because this is just too far out there for you. I get that. But let me just say in my defense, that there have been many, many, many very famous channels throughout our history, and some of them have churches built in their names.

Think of Mark for example. Yes, Mark from the greatest selling book of all time, The Holy Bible. Mark has one of the most famous churches in the world: St. Mark's Cathedral in Venice, Italy. I actually was there last fall, and lit a candle to Mary and Jesus in the sacred sanctuary.

From Mark, let's go to Revelations (also from The Holy Bible), written by St. John the Divine (in whose church I was ordained last year in New York City) ... and let's just add that many, if not all, of the books of the Bible were channeled.

So was The Course in Miracles.

So was The Qur'an (by the prophet Mohammed, father of the Islam faith).

So were all of Ellen G. White's writings (the Seventh-Day Adventists' most famous author).

So was the entire Conversations with God series, by Neale Donald Walsh.

So are the Teachings of Abraham, by Esther Hicks (the Abraham-Hicks work).

And so on.

Many, many works are channeled. And I didn't even go into the musical world, or the art world, or, or, or...

So what is channeling anyway? Basically, it is a trance state (it could be any level - light-deep), wherein one opens oneself to higher consciousness, and then brings forth that wisdom or vision or insight to this waking consciousness.

So, when I first started channeling, I found it to be difficult. It took a while to learn to trust my intuitive hits, to hold the energies of higher-level teachers, and to be comfortable with this.

Then two years ago, my life changed. During a meditation, I received a new group of guides called Karleon. At the time I did not realize that when one channels, it is common for certain guides come to you at different times. I was startled to hear from Karleon, and it took another year for me to be willing to share them with others. (Mostly because of my own fear of how people would view me.)

I began to channel for others in a bi-weekly group. And I came out more openly with it in safe settings like metaphysical bookstores, and friends of friends.

Now, I've been guided to share this with everyone else. So, I've begun a new blog called "Ask Karleon" where people can ask Karleon questions. If you're interested, you can find it at: http://askkarleon.blogspot.com/. Feel free to utilize this very beautiful, very important guidance in your own life.

Blessings to you all.

Oh, That Was Just Beautiful!

I sing. Some say I sing very well. Sometimes I think I sing very well. Sometimes I think I sound horrible. Some who have heard me sing might be surprised at this. But it's not because I always sing so beautifully, but rather because when they have heard me sing, I have practiced and practiced and my voice is warmed up and I am ready to actually perform the song, therefore my voice sounds good.

When I haven't sung for some time, however, I can hear how my breath is shorter than usual (meaning I can't hold the note as long as I can when my voice is more elastic and warmed up), how the note isn't quite on fully, especially in faster movements of the song, or how I just can't quite get that high note, and the notes themselves sometimes just don't have the purity of sound they have when my voice is warmer. And each time I get in that place, I have a little bit of panic inside. "Oh, no, what if this is all I can ever do from now on?" The anxious conversations begin to get activated inside. Beautiful? Not even close.

Then I practice and it begins to sound better. Whew.

Most times I sing, I sing at churches. Most recently, Francisco and I had been attending a Unity church in Hollywood, Florida, and for a little while, I sang somewhat frequently (about once every couple of months). Then it stretched to six months. Not enough for me. A singer needs someone to sing to, doncha know.

Odd, it seemed to me, that I wasn't doing more. Except that I understood the concept that diverse music is being offered to the church. I'm not terribly diverse; I have my style, my loves of form and method of singing, and I like to stick to it. I'm not a jazz singer, nor am I a gospel singer. I like slower, gentle, loving songs - songs with feeling and quiet, sacred heart. Songs like "The Lord's Prayer," and "Here I Am, Lord," and "You'll Never Walk Alone." And that can sound like one-note-Johnny after a while. I understand.

Before moving to Florida, Francisco and I lived in Charlottesville, Virginia. We were attending a lovely Presbyterian church, and both of us sang in the choir. I sang lots of solos there. People always were saying how wonderful it was; how beautifully I sang. (Sometimes I would wonder if they were just being nice, especially if I had heard some notes go flat or sharp.) Nonetheless, I love to sing and people kept encouraging me, so I kept singing.

Since moving here, we've been searching for a church. Like I said, for a while, we attended the Unity church. And it was lovely. The people are delightful. But we've been a little split between the Unity church and another lovely Presbyterian church we discovered, and so we are now connecting to the First Presbyterian Church in Hollywood.

It's nice to connect in different places.

This brings me back to singing. The Presbyterian church has more of the kinds of songs I like to sing. I love singing from a hymnal, and I love the types of solos I have heard. "Pie Jesu" was just beautiful, as was "He Shall Feed His Flock" from the Messiah at Christmas. The choir is lovely and active and sings beautiful classical songs. This gives me hope that I can sing frequently again and offer my voice, my heart, my soul. Musically, it feels like a fit.

And this brings me back to the other night. I was fixing dinner and decided to sing. It's one of my favorite times to sing, when I'm working in the kitchen. I was singing along with "Memories," from the Broadway play, "Cats," and as I finished the song, I could hear the ducks outside quacking.

Let me fill you in. We live on a lake. It is small and man-made, but it is a lake nonetheless. And at this lake live numerous fishing birds and ducks and turtles. Francisco and I delight in watching and feeding the ducks and the birds (not the fishing birds, other birds like Blue Jays, and the wonderful noisy Parrots) every day. Last year, one of the ducks had 10 ducklings, all of whom survived. As they grew, they got used to my voice, because I talk to them when I feed them. And they talk to me. So, imagine my surprise when I heard them quacking as I finished singing. (It's January, so my windows are open, wide open!)

I felt like St. Francis who gave his sermons to the birds!

It was the most delightful experience. I could almost hear them saying, "Oh, that was beautiful, do more!"

This makes me think that even though I didn't think it soundeds so great, maybe they heard something else. Maybe they heard the heart behind the song, the love and the passion. Maybe they heard me.

And maybe that's what people hear when I sing: my truth, my heart, my love, my connection to God. And maybe that's what they're talking about when they say "Oh, that was just beautiful!"