Sunday, January 25, 2015

3 Favorite Recipes

I'm going WAY off topic again rather like I did with my kombucha post. Let's face it, a well rounded journey isn't entirely about spirituality. lol These are some favorite recipes I make that I was sharing with a friend tonight and thought...what the hell...I will share it here too.  Pictured below...Front Row: Black Bean Mango Dip, Baba Ghanouj (recipe not below). Second Row: Hummus, Guacamole. These were served at my daughter's second birthday party. Raw vegetables are delicious dipped in the hummus. Warm pita bread was cut into triangles as well. Tortilla chips were served with the guacamole and black bean mango dip.





Oktobre's Hummus

2 cans chick peas
3/4 cups tahini
1 teaspoon salt
1 Tablespoon cumin (ground)
2 Tablespoons olive oil
1/3 cup water
4 to 6 roasted garlic cloves
Juice of 1 to 2 lemons

I use roasted garlic as I find the fresh crushed garlic in most hummus recipes too strong for my taste preferences. To roast garlic, heat oven to 375 degrees. Peel garlic, place on aluminum foil, drizzle olive oil on top and gather the aluminum allowing for venting. Bake for 30-35 minutes.

I also use more lemon than most recipes as I prefer a lemony hummus.

Combine all ingredients in a food processor (or blender) and blend to desired texture. 

Oktobre's Black Bean-Mango Dip

3 ripe mangoes (diced into small pieces)
1 can black beans (rinsed and drained)
1 fresh jalapeno (chopped into small pieces)
Juice of 1 lime (use 2 limes if they are very small)
1/2 red onion (diced)
1 Tablespoon cumin (toasted and ground)
1 teaspoon salt (more or less according to taste)
3-6 Tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Combine all ingredients and mix well.

Serve with tortilla chips. This dip is also very tasty on fajitas and tacos.


Oktobre’s Guacamole

2-3 ripe avocados (diced)
2-3 ripe tomatoes (diced)
Juice of 1 lemon
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon salt (more or less according to taste)
1 Tablespoon chopped jalapenos (the jarred variety)
3 Tablespoons chopped cilantro

Combine all ingredients in a medium sized mixing bowl. Stir gently. Unlike traditional guacamole, you want large chunks of avocado to be visible in your dip.

Serve with tortilla chips. This dip is also very tasty on fajitas and tacos.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Getting Shit Wrong

this illustration was borrowed from this SITE
I have been thinking about this topic for a few days. How many of us on our awakening journey have gotten shit wrong? How many of us have believed something one minute and then completely changed our mind about it the next minute? How many intuitives, psychics and mediums have you talked to and it felt off and wrong?

I want to let you in on a little secret....

We ALL get shit wrong!!! Yes everyone! Even the best psychics get it wrong at times.

I have a perfectionist personality and it has been hard to get so much shit wrong. I have all these pieces to my puzzle and I am trying very hard to put it together to make sense of it all and understand it. I have gotten shit wrong and at times thought things that were way off. Does it make me crazy? Nope. Does it make me less intuitive than the next person? Definitely not. It makes me humble and it makes me another human trying to break through my amnesia.

A lot of us on a spiritual journey open ourselves to the possibilities that exist and we know that those possibilities are vast and sometimes extraordinary. Sometimes those possibilities are just too much for the muggle mind to comprehend. With so much to choose from, like an endless salad bar with options as far as the eye can see and beyond, is it any wonder that when trying to understand who we are and why we are here we get shit wrong? We pile that shit on our plate and are like, "Yeah bring it on!"

When we are trying to sort out and understand our stories, sometimes we twist and turn a puzzle piece to see how it fits. We might even jam it into a space it doesn't really fit because it kinda sorta looks like it should fit. And we shove that sucker in there and say, "damn it! I know you must go there but you aren't going in easily!"

We sit back and look at our masterpiece and realize "That's not right. Why is there an eye on his chin?"

Provided no one was seriously harmed, injured or killed by you getting shit wrong, so fucking what? You got shit wrong. It isn't the end of the world. So what people think you are crazy. So what you felt humiliated when you found out how wrong you were. So what. It doesn't really matter that much to get it wrong.

What matters is that you keep moving forward no matter what. You keep putting those pieces in place. You will get it right eventually. Sometimes we have to get it really wrong before we understand what it feels like when that piece clicks in and feels really right. You know, the whole contrast thing? Yeah that. How can you completely understand joy without knowing sadness? How can you know what feels right if you never know what feels wrong?

I am fully aware that what I believe in any given now moment has the potential to change according to the information coming in and what I experience in my life. There is no shame in saying that your beliefs have shifted. There is no shame in saying this is *my* truth as I see it in this moment. There should be no judgement or shame in getting shit wrong either. We live. We learn. We make errors and we learn from those. It isn't all in vain. We learn.

With all that said, there is plenty I have gotten right. There is plenty about my own story I just KNOW at the core of my being as truth for me. For all that I have gotten wrong, there is just as much I have gotten right. I have not let the wrong shit keep me from trusting in myself or my own intuition. I have not let it stop me from trusting my own inner compass. I still believe in me and go within to find my answers.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Reconnecting With An Old Flame

Art by Irina Vitalievna Karkabi

It is 4:00 am. I woke up to pee and debated whether or not to stay up and get in some PC time while I could. During normal hours it always seems to be occupied by someone else. I am still tired but I long to get out all that has been bouncing around inside my head and typing on my phone just isn't going to cut it. So I have opted to stay awake and steal this quiet time and use a keyboard that isn't meant for fairy fingers. The sound of the rain coming down outside makes me feel grateful that it wasn't raining like this earlier when I went on my nightly powerwalk.

Love....first loves....they are precious and sacred in ways. You probably read the title and saw the illustration and thought I would be talking about a dude. lol My first love was no dude. It was something so much better. My first love was music. It was a pure and simple love and started when I was very young.

I have been ruminating things since my last blog post and memories have come back that I have long since pushed away. I had a couple dreams in which a pink baby grand piano showed up in pink rooms. In the first dream it was a business that was getting ready to open and everything they sold there was pink. The pink baby grand piano was the only item in the store at the time. In the second dream it was a house I had newly rented and I came upon this small child sized door. When I opened the door, inside was this magnificent child's bedroom with multiple beds, a play area with dress-up things and a child sized pink baby grand piano.


Pink is the inner heart chakra color and a bedroom I take to be a the most personal aspect of you.
This is what dreammoods.com says about bedrooms:

Bedroom


To dream that you are in the bedroom signifies aspects of yourself that you keep private and hidden. It is also indicative of your sexual nature and intimate relations.    


To dream of your childhood bedroom indicates that a current situation or feeling has triggered a memory from your childhood that you have kept secret. Alternatively, the dream may be symbolic of a sexual awakening.

Since it isn't about a sexual awakening.....hahahahahahaha....

It is funny, but when I had these two dreams, I totally didn't get what my subconscious was trying to show me. I didn't get their meaning...until yesterday when it clicked and I was like "Ooooooh!" It was about me. It was about my love of music. And showing a child's room reminded me that my deep love for music went far back into childhood.

I remember well being in love with music, especially music that was performed live and I was in awe of people who could play instruments. I would make up my own words to the instrumental songs on the radio. I longed for a guitar and was given a crappy toy one for Christmas one year. I was a little disappointed it wasn't a real one because the sound sucked on the cheap plastic one I was given. When I went to grandma's house, she had an old out-of-tune piano and I would sit there for ages playing around with creating my own little songs. I used to walk around by myself and make up little songs about how I was feeling and pretend my life was a musical. When we went to Colorado to go camping in the mountains, I would climb the rocks and pretend it was my stage and sing songs like "Delta Dawn" and "Sing" by the Carpenters. I remember well dancing around on my bed using my sister's Tickle underarm deodorant bottle as a microphone singing The BeeGees, Andy Gibb, and Captain and Tennille. lol

There was a lot of time we didn't have a TV. My dad shot two TVs at different times. Yes, shot with a gun. But I do remember watching the Lawrence Welk Show, Sonny and Cher, Hee Haw and other music variety shows.

I played flute for a little while. My dad volunteered me to perform in front of the church. That was my first experience with stage fright. I tried but I was nervous and I messed up. Messing up flustered me and I started again but the tears had started welling up in my eyes and I couldn't see the notes on the paper anymore. I was mortified. I gave up the flute that year....the year my mom left my dad for the first time.

When life was complete chaos and turmoil at home, I begged to be sent away to performing arts school. The TV show Fame was popular back then. I even found a school in Minneapolis that was a boarding school for performing arts. I probably would have done very well had that happened, but my dream was never supported by my parents nor was my love ever really fostered and encouraged. "Be realistic." Get your head out of the clouds." "You need a real career." 

On "career day" I went to a radio station because there wasn't a rock star close by who the school would let me hang out with and shadow. lol On another occasion I went to a tiny local recording studio to interview people there for my journalism class. High school guidance counselors tried to get me to be "realistic" and see that I needed to choose a practical career. It was in my choir class when I tried out for a solo that I was faced with stage fright again. I got nervous and my voice cracked. Tears started welling up. My face became red and hot with embarrassment.  I was mortified.

I sang perfectly in the privacy of my bedroom, in my car or in the bathroom taking a shower. It was doing it in front of people that paralyzed me. The fear was big and yet, I still moved forward saying that music is all I cared about in life. In my 20s I went out of my way to befriend band people just to be around the music. A friend was setting the equipment up once and asked me to say "test" into the microphone on the stage. No big deal right? lol My lips involuntarily quivered so badly I could barely get the word "test" out. hahahaha Stage fright is a bitch.

I have taken a long hard look into where my fear likely stems from. Part of it is because it is something I care so much about that it really rattles me to do it in front of people. I think the other part stems from being a middle child and often being overlooked and forgotten. I got used to being invisible so that when the spot light was turned on me, I choked and felt uncomfortable. I wasn't always the outspoken bitch I am today. It took me a long time to be able to find my voice to openly and honestly speak about what I really felt inside.

I have had various readings over the past couple years. Over and over again I was being told to sing. I had a Reiki session and my practitioner told me he was getting a message to tell me to sing to help keep my throat chakra open. He said he had never gotten that message before so it was interesting to him. Just prior to that Brandon Lee's name kept coming to the tip of my tongue and I asked a friend why. She said he said he had stopped by to remind me to sing. So my Reiki guy telling me this was a sync and in line with a message I had just gotten. Psychic Pamela Cummins heard the song "Sing" by the Carpenters. She said she heard the line "just sing, sing a song". 

This is a part of Melissa Hevenor's reading:

It is not uncommon for reincarnates that lived during Atlantis such as yourself,to sing or have musical talent. Please, honey, try to work on eliminating your fear for singing in public, because it is part of your spiritual path to share your gifts as it is through the vibrations that generate from your voice, that the world can receive healing. Try to begin making videos on YouTube, where you can sing on your own, but still share it with others. 

3) I'm sorry to bring this up again, but it's very important. You have to sing. Also, I see you writing something that's very important. Not exactly about your life, but stories that are related to some of your own experiences that are also a part of helping others to heal. You have so much creative energy as well as intuition and healing. It is important that you share yourself, energetically, through creative projects related to the music and writing. And, I definitely see you getting several tattoos in the future. One is related to your guide and another that has musical notes involved:) I look forward to watching your YouTube videos!:)


My friend and psychic, Jan, also saw music for me. She saw me on stage. She saw me on TV and in film. I confirmed all of this with Jamie Butler and she too saw me on stage and mentioned something about how I would teach about how music and sound heals.

All of this and I just kind of brushed it aside, nodded like a bobble-head and quickly brushed it under the bed and forgot about it....until my recent messages to Deryck brought it all to surface.

Spiritually speaking we can look at this and say "Well it is just a role you are playing and none of this is real. It is a hologram." But here is the thing...yes, these are all roles we are playing and each of us is a character actor living our respective roles. We get really wrapped up into these characters we are playing and the EMOTIONS we feel whilst performing are very real. It doesn't matter how many times that someone says "it is just a story" or "it is a holographic universe," every single emotion we FEEL in every now moment is REAL. We have immersed ourselves into these roles and we feel everything our character feels and at the end of the day we take them home with us and never really break character. Even our dreams often have us seeing ourselves AS our characters and not the true light beings we are at the core.

So this is me trying to work it all out in front of you. This kind of audience I can deal with. I don't have to see you and let my nerves get the better of me. lol

I have decided to rekindle a romance with my old flame. I owe it to myself and my love. Like a Phoenix from the flames, I will revive my dream that has long since been dead. I will revive my relationship with my love, but this time I will find it in me to overcome my fears. Even if all I ever do is muster up the courage to sing karaoke in a crappy bar, I am going to successfully sing in front of people.

If you have made it through my whole musing, ask yourself what hidden issues you might be avoiding that have likely been trying to get your attention in plain sight and you are putting your fingers in your ears and saying, "lalalala I can't hear you!" When something triggers you, really look at it and delve in. There is likely a younger version of you begging to be nurtured, loved and healed.  



Monday, January 12, 2015

Standing Naked and Exposed, Vulnerability

The Descent of Iztaccihuatl (The White Woman) - Ricardo Fernández Ortega

I think I have to admit (mostly to myself) that Deryck Whibley has become my unlikely muse. lol Lately many of my blog posts are inspired by something relating to him. This one will be no exception. This too is directly related to my interactions with him on Instagram.

It was my guides who first brought Deryck into my awareness. Before that, I thought all those Sum 41 songs I heard on the radio were Blink 182. hahaha Sorry, Deryck, it is true. I was oblivious to the name "Sum 41" until May 2014. Since then it has been an interesting experience, to say the least.

It is funny how a complete stranger can unknowingly make an impact on us and help us grow without doing anything but being themselves. I dutifully started posting comments because I knew my guides wanted me to interact with him for a reason, so I complied. What I didn't count on is the inner growth I would make as a result.

I have been watching Deryck since his brush with death. I have been paying attention to what he says. I have watched older videos on their YouTube channel to get acquainted a little about who he is. I have watched interviews with him as well.

One day he is all like "Yo, I am on Instagram now. Follow me!" I groaned and reluctantly signed up to Instagram so that I could "Follow" him there. I watched and sometimes commented. I watched his adoring fans and their comments. Eventually Deryck actually started interacting with them. I thought, "Wow! This is a twist and a change." He has even replied to me a number of times. I saw his fans light up and get excited and start posting more. I saw the desperation of some wanting him to notice them. "Please notice me!" some would say. And how many of us feel that way in our every day life..."just notice me". It struck me and I could see how much it meant to those people to have a response. The average age of Dercyk's audience is still mostly young...teens to 20s, I would say. His music speaks to that age group and that age group can be influenced a lot.

Eventually the interaction with his fans evolved. He started sharing their artwork and tattoos. He started liking their videos, and I tell you, my heart grew just observing all of this. Sometimes I have posted comments to Deryck and later deleted them. I do that a lot actually. lol Sometimes if they just leave me feeling like I have revealed too much, I delete.

Recently I posted a comment to Deryck and sang his praises. I have done it before, but I chose an old photo and tagged him and hoped none of his fans would bother to look. lol This time I posted out in the open for all of them to see my soft gooey inside that I don't often like to show. And then yesterday I posted a poem on my Instagram and tagged him in a message that followed. While I was composing that message, something unexpected happened. At the end of the message I BURST into tears and I was like wtf, where did that come from?

That moment was a spotlight. It shined a light on a core issue...something I needed to work on and address....but it also left me feeling vulnerable and exposed even though what I said was kind and loving. This morning I promptly deleted it. My BFF, Ziba, asked me why and a series of questions that made me take a look at it.

This was the dialogue exchange...

ME:  I mean last night with writing what I did to Deryck and responding with huge emotion was a surprise and shined a light on something I need to look at.
Of course I have a strong urge to delete that message and I likely will today. I think he has probably seen it and there is no reason for it to be there anymore.

ZIBA: leave it
you created it and it's beautiful, let it remain

ME: The poem will stay

ZIBA: even the comment

ME: But my personal message to him I just removed

ZIBA: why?

ME:  I don't know
It just made me squirm
And I guess it wouldn't seem so...i don't know....pointless if he had actually acknowledged seeing it.
It makes me feel vulnerable and naked and so I deleted it.

Ding, ding, ding! And there it is...feeling exposed and naked leaves me feeling vulnerable and I run from vulnerability like the plague.

"What was that issue that came up?" you might wonder. Let me share a couple of the comments I posted before:

This was the one I hid on an old post....


oktobre17: I'm going to randomly post on one of your old posts over here because I can. I miss this account and miss seeing your face as the avatar I see when you post pictures. I understand why you would choose the sum 41 account as it just makes sense. More people can find you easily. Let's face it "sum 41" is easier to spell than "the official Deryck Whibley" hahahaha I am being nostalgic, I guess. I think it is very cool that you make some kid's day by commenting and liking his video, or sharing an amazing drawing someone did who loves your band. It makes them feel special and it makes you seem like you have a heart and can remember what is was like to be a geeky kid singing to your favorite band in your bedroom. I feel more like an observer than a fan and I have been watching and I think your interaction with your fans is lovely and thoughtful. Maybe I have had too much time to think while I lay in bed for days with food poisoning. Hahaha Sending love and light your way because my heart feels full with what I have seen.

Here is a recent one...

oktobre17: @sum41 I know I have said this before and I will say it again. I really love seeing how you are interacting more with your fans in different ways...liking their posts and sharing their art and tattoos. Those tiny little gestures mean the world to those people. It isn't just about their idol acknowledging them, but I am guessing at least some of them don't have people in their lives supporting them and encouraging them to pursue their dreams. You give them hope and encouragement and that means a lot when so many people tell you to be realistic and tell you that you could never succeed in music.
 In your position you have a platform to be an influence and role model and what you do with that position matters. Bravo to you for stepping up and giving a shit about these kids. It is beautiful to watch as it unfolds. Much love and light to you, my friend

PS: I miss you updating your blog. :)

And this is the one I deleted...

oktobre17: @sum41 I used to write a lot when I was young. Hence the reason most of my lyrics and poems are written in the 80s and 90s. My big dream in life was that i wanted to sing in a band. I wrote lyrics but didn't play an instrument so didn't know the first thing about writing music to go with those words. This one is a poem but many of my writings were set up with verses and a chorus. My father was/is a religious fanatic. My parents weren't supportive of my dream. It kind of crushes the spirit of the young dreamer when you aren't encouraged to do what you love most. I think at one point I just gave up the dream and buried it deep inside. It was only this past year that I dug out my old poetry and lyrics and published some of it on my blog. I'm 46 now and those kinds of dreams I simply remember wistfully with a little pain in my heart. My daughter is 6 and i want to encourage her to pursue anything her heart desires. When I say the things i do to you, I say them very sincerely because what you are doing for those kids, I wish someone had done for me.

Do you see how in the second comment I kind of in a roundabout way talk about what my issue is but I worded it as "them" and "they" and didn't own it? In the last comment I admitted that *I* didn't feel supported or encouraged...and FUCK...god damnit the tears just broke free again and just typing this is like standing naked and exposed, showing you my greatest failure and disappointment...THE DEATH OF A DREAM...a dream never realized. And now I know there is something there that is begging to be healed and what that something is.

*deep breath*


I want to talk about how being vulnerable isn't a bad thing, blah blah blah....but I think I have to step away and post an edit to this once the tears have stopped and I can compose my thoughts.

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Me, Myself, and I

Many have this idea of their bodies only ever containing one soul. They think of their "consciousness" being connected to a single soul. I was pondering who "I" and "me" really are in this experience. I started thinking about it because of a dream I had last night. In the dream I had moved into a new apartment but the people who had lived there before came back and didn't want to leave. I was content to go back to my old apartment. I considered that the "apartment" reference could actually be reference to the body and the roles we play and I considered whether or not "I" and "me" would leave to the new body or if they would stay with original.

The conclusion I came to is that what we know of as "I" and "me" remains with the body. Our consciousness...awareness of "I" and "me" is actually connected to the human vessel. Even if the soul that drives the vehicle leaves and a new one takes over, we still feel pretty much the same "I" and "me". The only way to get true release is to destroy the vehicle so that it is uninhabitable. The "I" and "me" is a computer-like program connected to the brain. "I" and "me" are the roles the body was placed here to perform. If the current soul driving my human vehicle leaves, "I" would still be here and she would be free but "I" would have no knowledge or awareness of her. 


There could be multiple beings that come in and play the ROLE of that particular body. So on the other side there could be many beings who played that role. When you call up to talk to, let's say Elvis, if there were multiple beings who performed that role, you could connect with any one of them. We are thinking in terms that the role as a single being and I think we are learning now that that just isn't the case for many of us.

We become SO attached to the "I" and "me".  I have heard some say they still want to be who they are right now on the other side. We have forgotten that the souls driving the vehicle are just playing a role. We are so much bigger than the current roles we are performing. Whichever soul leaves can call up the role whenever they wish even if someone else is now playing that role. Is that confusing? Think of the energy driving as a sky drive and the brain as a hard drive. But then you have a different being coming in and playing the role and there becomes another perfect sky drive copy of that role. Do you see where this is going?

How many versions of the Nutcracker have you seen with different actors playing the same roles? Each actor can say, "I performed this role" and it would be truth. Each would have a memory of playing that role and be able to call it up whenever they wish.

The character of Oktobre will remain until the body is uninhabitable and is written out of the script. This is just a role that those who want to experience it can. What becomes of the character on the other side? I honestly have no idea. I suspect all of the beings who have played this role can call her up and perform as her should they wish.

When you look at another person and you feel attached to them, ask yourself what it is you are attached to. Is it the character you are attached to or the current soul within? It could be either or it could be both. I think the idea of multiple beings playing a single role kind of changes one's perspective about who the "person" really is in this life. When we "lose" someone be it to death or just a falling out, who or what are we actually mourning? Is our grieving just part of the role and written into the script to help us grow and feel something we may have not felt on the other side before? Is it the body and computer-like program we are attached to? I think it is worth looking at why we sometimes react so strongly to loss...to a point that it destroys our own roles in this giant play.

It is very possible that the people we love don't have the original souls they started out with but we don't mourn when that soul leaves and a new one comes in. It is definitely something to think about and consider.