Polishing my truth

“If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror ever be polished?” the Juggler said. I don’t think he knew what that means to me…

Most people like me live lives of ease. We’ve worked hard to create a reality where everything is predictable. We wake up and know what the rest of our day holds for us. We know what we like to do for fun and with whom we like to share our free time. The people we know understand us. We start a comment and they already know where we’re going with our opinion. They get our “short-hand” comments. Living a life where you don’t have to explain yourself is so easy.

Unless we’re polished public speakers, though, many of us get lazy with sharing our opinions. How many times has a Facebook comment been misunderstood by others? How many times has a text message caused an argument or a shrug changed a budding friendship?

So, when people around us misunderstand us, when our words are judged wrong, we become irritated and bark our truth, trying to bark louder than the irritating comment.

Aye, there’s the rub, as Shakespeare’s Hamlet said. If we rub with anger, though, we’ll streak the mirror and ruin the reflection. Isn’t the goal to make the reflection sparkle? Shouldn’t we try to get to the truth?

What rubs my mirror, my reality, is the conflict that comes from not living an easy life. What rubs my mirror right now is discord and difficulty. It is not knowing what is next on my journey.

I have considered going home to my safe, predictable life where my reflection in the mirror was clean and made-up and nearly flawless. Then I remember one crucial bit of information … other people thought they knew me, thought they understood what made me click. The truth is, they only knew what I had revealed to them. They only understood the persona I became when I was near them.

Sometimes, I thought I was that person.

The reason I know that was not my truth – I was not truly happy. I was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. Now that I’m discovering myself on this Vision Quest, I’m realizing what was missing.

“I” was missing. After piling so many layers of illusion between me and the world, I didn’t understand what was my essence.

When I looked in the mirror, I saw none of those people, because none of those people were really me.

I know some truths about me –

  • I love. I love my students and my friends and my family and the stranger panhandling at the light. I truly feel love for all of them, although the intensity varies. I am usually patient and understanding because I know that within each being, human or animal or bug or plant, lies a part of God’s love.
  • My word is my bond. If I say I’m going to do something, I work hard to make that promise a reality. The promise becomes my truth.

For now, those are the only truths I can account for because, as I look in the mirror, I am rubbing away the disguises I wore before when I was trying to impress the people I love.

Mirror, mirror for us all …

What’s the truth behind my walls?

So maybe when The Juggler spoke of polishing our mirrors, he knew exactly what it would mean to me. That’s today’s lesson.

Much love to you, my friends.

The Dragonfly’s Student

The pulling together of core groups with certain soul groups for the next phase: 2014 -2024

This is what leads me.

Judith Kusel


As massive portals have now opened up there is a magnetic pull from soul to soul to unite for specific purposes.

There are core groups of souls from within certain soul groups, who have come in for specific tasks or missions to accomplish.  They were involved with the creation of the planet from the very beginning, and have returned to assist the planet through this phase of transformation.

Some have been working over lifetimes to bring back the ancient keys and codes to mankind and have held them in custody.  They at as the e-missionaries of Love, Wisdom and Power when the earth goes through intense and massive changes, and then lead the rest through such shifts.

It is no accident when such souls are being pulled together – it is by grand design.

There are souls on this planet who have been involved with the establishments of the first…

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Survival of the fittest

I’ve been watching the dogs, lately.

Dogs, those brown-eyed, tail-wagging comforting companions are more than pets. To some of us, they are best friends. They are protectors. And to others, they are children.

But these four-legged creatures are more. They are survivors.

I’ve watched them in the wild and surviving conditions that make the wild shudder. I am awed by their survival skills and by their kindness.

Recently, I met Roxanne, a powerful and beautiful German Shepherd that could have become a police officer’s loyal companion. Her early life was not lucky for her, though. She survived, walking away from an abusive situation on three healthy legs and a partially severed fourth. Since then, she’s found a happy home where she is the mother hen to other rescued dogs.

On this trip, I’ve also met wild dogs, some that live far from human contact, others that still thrive on the kindness of humans. One such dog had a frayed rope tied around her neck. She would take kindness and food from us, but we could never get close enough to remove the rope that seemed to be cutting into her neck.

I’ve met dogs that are happy in their existence and others that are merely getting by. I’ve met dogs with tortured lives far in their past and others that are just escaping their torture.

The thing about dogs is they don’t complain. They survive and if they are ever rescued, they are eternally grateful.

They are so resilient.

I can’t help but compare their existence to our human condition. Some humans live lives in the lap of luxury without realizing it. Some humans have had rough lives of conflict and pain. Others have been left alone and ignored to fend for themselves – to sink or swim, in a way. Some have drifted from the pack and have fought against asking for help when they hit rock bottom.

Some humans are resilient. Others, however, seem to be waiting to be rescued. Sometimes it’s easier to rescue dogs. Humans are expected to be able to rescue ourselves. Too many times, however, we put the needs of others before our own, like our loyal companions do.

An admirable trait, I know, but I wonder if we can be loyal while living our own truth. Too many of us exist in an illusion we are afraid to shatter in order to find what makes us truly alive. We’d rather wait.

I’d rather shatter the illusions that hold me back. I’d rather hobble away on three legs than simply survive on four. Of course, I’ve never been in such a torturous existence. I don’t dare judge those who have managed to survive.

After all, survival is the goal, isn’t it?

Peace and love to you, my friends,

The Dragonfly’s Student

I’m not crazy. I’m HAPPY!

I grew up the eldest daughter in an upper middle-class Cuban-American family. … I pause a little as I write the words upper middle-class because I wonder if my family would see it that way, but I will not change what I believe. Especially not now.

During this road trip, I am continuing the essence of this summer’s quest. I continue to learn more about myself. Leading the list of lessons I have learned: I had a very privileged childhood.

I’m not complaining, don’t get me wrong. I am very grateful to my parents for allowing me to have such a safe and secure existence. That part of my life allowed me to grow into someone who is willing to analyze my life and grow from my experiences.

As the daughter of open-minded immigrants, the lessons I learned growing up included:

  • We are all equal, no matter what other people say. Like the time at my sixth birthday party when my African-American friend, Paula Lovett, was not allowed into the club to meet me for the pool party. My parents complained to management as soon as they found out what had happened. They also cancelled our membership.
  • Our dreams can come true. My sister and I still joke about the mantra my mother instilled in us – “You are not getting married until you have your PhD!” Neither of us got our doctorate degree, but that’s not the lesson we got. What we learned was that we should never allow anything to get in the way of our dreams. That lesson continues to ring true for me.
  • Never say never. When others may be deterred by a negative response, I have learned to question everything, to not give up, and to follow my instincts. I deserve to live my truth, no matter what others say. I find, however, that some people question my stick-to-it-tiveness. Especially now. I don’t think these people want to seem mean. I think they are concerned for me and are questioning my decisions because said decisions are not normal or expected.

The thing is, my childhood as the child of open-minded immigrants also neglected to teach me some other things first-hand.

  • Charity: I never cried the tears of a child who yearned to grasp the handlebars of her own bike. I learned charity by watching my mother work diligently for years to collect clothes and appliances with the nuns for families in the Dominican Republic. Although I frequently wear thrift-shop clothes now, it is by choice. I never felt the shame of wearing a hand-me-down dress to my high school prom. I know that shame exists, though.
  • Hunger: Sometimes I have felt the tight rumble of an empty belly, but most of the time it has been because of a self-inflicted dietary change. I have felt the guilt inflicted on us because there are children whose growth has been stunted by starvation, but I never felt the pangs myself. And I never knew anyone who had lived that life – children whose only meals are provided by the school, adults whose income barely pays for the roof over their head so they have to count on the charity of others to tame the ache.
  • Although many would say I grew up a minority Hispanic, in Miami, I was not a minority. Although I sometimes felt the sting of racism, the memories of angry adults are fleeting. That is lucky, I know. I never felt the weight of judgment heavy on my back as I roamed a convenience store, as I know others feel simply because of the color of their skin or length of their hair. The only judgment I felt was self-imposed – I am so lucky that I should be doing something worthwhile. I think I’ve reconciled that judgment now.

See, the main lesson I’ve learned so far on my seemingly perpetual Vision Quest is that the truth in my heart is louder than any other voice around. After years hiding behind the shoulda’s and woulda’s of my human existence, I am finally allowing myself to live a different life. People who love me question my personality change. My answer: I wonder if I was being honest with myself.

This Vision Quest has allowed me the luxury afforded mainly to those who can pay exorbitant amounts of money just to sit on a couch and learn about themselves. I am not like them, and I don’t want to be like them. I want to be me and to live my truth, not caring about what the next day will bring or about the comings and goings of the latest celebrity of the day. I am learning a new way of thinking and living.

I’ve been analyzing the changes in me. It’s hard to put into words except to say that the joy I find now does not live in the four walls that represent my human existence. I am learning to look outside of myself, to recognize need in others and to try to ease that need. It’s not life-altering things for humanity that I’m learning or practicing. I’m just trying to do what I can in the moment for one particular person or creature. It’s the desire I felt dawn in my relationships with my students — an innate need to guide them toward creating a life where they are happy with their choices.

Part of me knows this is insane, but there’s a part of me, one hidden away for many years behind the façade of my smiles, that believes the promises made to me by my Spirit guides and teachers during a vision: “Nothing will happen that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Let me explain why that’s so important. I now realize that some my readers may not understand what seems so clear to me. That refrain is not telling me that nothing is in my hands. Free will exists, as does the ability for bad things to happen. But these words are so ingrained in me because they are my connection with the Spirit world. As long as I continue following my instincts, everything will be fine.

Today, in the early evening coolness of an Arizona September, as I wait outside the campground laundry for my clothes to be done, I want to sing with the coyotes:

I am happy. I am safe. Maybe I’m not living the diamonds-and-pearls existence of princess realities, but this reality suits me just fine. …

… if only I could find more-regular Wi-Fi access!

The true tests of faith

It’s easy to have faith when your world is not shaken.

When a paycheck is still coming in and you’re still sleeping in your own bed, believing in something greater than yourself is not a stretch. My teachers and the friends who communicate from across the veil are comforting and encouraging when my breakfast is enjoyed from the back porch of my home.

It becomes a little, different, however, when even my laptop is rebelling. I’m writing this blog post on my cell phone in the early mist of morning in what seems like a lifetime away from home. It seems that way, because it is.

I left my life to follow a prophet. Then the nibbles of doubt started eating at the edges of my faith. What if the visions from this summer were wrong? What if I misinterpreted the signs that pointed me this way?

Despite the questions, I stuck to my plan, knowing that my God would not leave me. My doubt would be addressed eventually.

Sunday morning’s readings at church seemed to be talking to me. It wouldn’t have meant as much if I hadn’t been questioning. Questions inject doubt and doubt sways faith.

“Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you.” Proverbs 4:25.

Then my faith encountered something I’ve rarely met before – others who believe as deeply as I do that my new teacher walks with the Spirit of God.

And my faith got a quick boost of truth.

This is not going to be easy. I mean, I understood from the get-go that I was stepping into a life different from any I’d known before. Instead of air conditioning and nightly “Big Bang Theory” reruns, I am sitting in the dark of a morning a lifetime away from what I knew before.

But I’m not not scared. I believe in the message I got this summer – nothing will happen that wasn’t mean to happen. There is something special going on here.

Some may think I’ve gone all bible-thumping. Some may think I’ve changed too much. But, really, what’s changed about me is I’m living my truth. I’m accepting the faith I’ve always had and I’m making it a real part of me.

And as I continue the summer vision quest, I am in a school of another kind – Learning. Growing. Accepting. The lessons are coming so fast and so true that they sometimes force me to take a breath to fully digest the information.

I’m loving this new reality where my faith is key!

Namaste, my friends.

The Dragonfly’s Student