Introducing, the Reptilian … Amaden– Is it all True Series # 383

REPTILIAN

Here is the first of a series of drawings that I am sharing with all of you. Please note that if you wish to use this drawing, ask for my permission first.

This drawing is of a reptilian named Amaden. He came to my attention the first of the year and tried to keep some of the other contacts away from me. I didn’t understand why I hadn’t heard from Loekey or Debryon in quite awhile. This particular visitor decided he wanted all my attention but I wasn’t necessarily cooperating with him. I didn’t know what the problem was but I also wasn’t open to a new contact from anyone. Loekey and Debryon felt like a handful. I have also had another being come to me but I will tell you all more about him in due time.

Understand that I am open to these beings but that does not mean I let them take over my life or allow them to control any aspect of my psyche. This drawing is my interpretation of what Amaden looks like with artistic privilege thrown in. He is actually red through out his body but I put multiple colors in to help give him more definition when copied in black and white.

This will be the first in a series of 7 drawings I have done of each being. Comments are welcome or if anyone has seen something similar, please let me know.

My Life Manifesto — Sandy Penny

SandyPennyMy Life Manifesto
by Sandy Penny, 2-2-2015

I never wanted to compete with others, only with myself. Even as a child, I wanted to create cooperation, not competition. Growing up with nine brothers and sisters was competition enough. I wanted to learn something new every day, and I have. I have always strived to be better at the things I choose to do, to improve processes, to innovate, to organize. I have always endeavored to leave a job better than I found it. I subscribed to the old adage, if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing well. I intend each day to ask myself if I’m living from love or fear, and to always choose love.

I hope, when I leave this world, that I have had a positive impact on those I’ve known, and that I have done as little harm as is humanly possible. I intend, every day, as Ghandi advised, to be the love I want to see in the world, to treat others with kindness, compassion and respect. I intend to leave every person with whom I interact feeling better than when we met, without attachment and expectations. If one person has been helped by me, if I have lifted anyone’s suffering, made anyone smile, then I have lived a life worth living. And, for myself, I want only to be the highest and best expression my soul intends for my earthly life, knowing that when I leave this world, I feel complete with each and every sacred relationship I forged, and every relationship is sacred.

I commit to using and fulfilling the purpose of each chakra, each energy center within me, to express the colors of the rainbow that is me. I open myself to the golden connection that is my crown chakra, that I may bring more spirit into matter. I connect with the source of all light and open my inner and outer vision that I may see myself, others, my life, and the world clearly and through the love that manifests all creation. I connect with the source of all words and align my voice with the voice of love and joy. I align my mind with the universal consciousness that I may raise my thoughts to higher realms and transcend all negativity of the human consciousness, that I may think in more creative ways, that I may inspire higher thinking through all that I touch, that I may express right thought, right speech and right action for each and every situation I encounter, that I may share wisdom when needed. I clarify and align my feelings and emotions with unconditional love that I may create sacred partnerships throughout my life, knowing that all relationships are sacred and deserve love and compassion. I align and restore my physical body to the perfection in which it was created that I may walk this earth, strong and healthy, and follow my own path on my own journey of spirit flowing into matter and matter returning to spirit, a conduit of love, light, joy and completion.

As I awoke this morning, these thoughts were running through me, and I wanted to write them down, to remind myself that this is my life creed, and that I intend to live it fully, and I am. I am a spark of infinite love emanating from the unlimited stream of love divine. I am a bubbling spring of joy and wisdom to quench the thirst of all who drink it in. As I intend, so shall it be, for intention inspires action, and action creates and manifests. I am creator, manifestor and the artist of my own life.

Divine love, through me, blesses and multiplies all the good I am, all the good I have, and all the good I share. And so it is, and I am grateful.

Posted by Sandy Penny at 12:32 PM

Messages from Other Worlds -Is it all True Series # 315

ToddMichaelWe as humans are getting messages from many sources, verbally from family members, media, email through the internet, through dreams and directly from inter-dimensional entities. In all of these communication types there is a degree of interpretation. We are all fairly comfortable with all the types except dreams and IDE. Dreams for most people need to be written down quickly after the dream is finished or 90% of the dream can be lost within 30 minutes.

Now the IDE (inter-dimensional entities) messages, well they are very complex and layered. I am not going to talk about the content of the messages, but rather who is getting the messages and maybe a few reasons why these people are chosen.

People have been getting messages from Gods, Angels and Demons for a very long time. Humans of Royal blood have claimed contact with these beings since the beginning of time. I believe some of these Royals have had contact, because it would serve the IDEs well to contact leaders if their motive was control of the masses.
Next, religious leaders; again control of the masses would play a role in IDE contact, but here I feel some of this contact is a fabrication which religious leaders have used for their agendas.

Last, individuals; people of no particular background, wealth and even interest in IDE have been contacted and given messages. This last group is the most common and I will state here the majority of humans have had some type of IDE contact but not all with messages attached. To get a message you have to be open to the contact and willing at some level to embrace this type of encounter. If you are not the embracing type this experience will be only a contact and not a vehicle of Cosmic wisdom.

Sleep Tight, be fearless and open and the universe will reward you.

MWiz.

October NM UFO/Paranormal Forum Meeting – ABQ. Is it all True Series #254


This meeting was one of my favorite types, we call “the sharing,” which is the sharing of our personal experiences and this group can bring it. Having participated in other groups around the country, this is by far the most diverse of them all with stories covering the US, Canada, Mexico and at times other parts of the world.

Here are some of the stories that were shared. There was a prophecy story about a lady in black who approached a stranger to tell him about her brother’s recent alien encounter. The aliens reportedly told him that there would be a huge earthquake in Kobe, Japan in two weeks killing thousands – and yes it did happen in the two weeks that were predicted.

Next, there was a multiple sighting by 8 military air traffic controllers in Florida. As they watched a UFO closely trailed a large Air Force cargo plane. First they saw it on radar and as the plane landed the UFO were visible with their naked eyes. The UFO ended up over the air traffic tower hanging there for several minutes. Shortly after the UFO left the scene, the base was shut down and everyone was debriefed.

Then there was the story of the “Big Watch Eye.” It was a basketball size drone that was watching, scanning this person’s house for several minutes in the middle of a dense subdivision in daylight. Then there was the egg-shaped creature with some bird-like features – frightening a small group of people. There was also the story of the Santa Fe artist who had a close encounter with a UFO, and a Bigfoot during the same event. These encounters inspired her to paint some amazing art to share with the world.

And lastly there would not be a UFO meeting without a Roswell story. A friend of the speaker had a couple of Air Force friends who witnessed seeing the small bodies and the vehicle crash debris back in 1947; this testimony was given on their deathbeds.

Sleep tight, for a great man once said we are all a celebrity in some reality. And reality is not what it seems.
MWiz

My Amazing Adventure Through a Vortex: Part 3 –Is it all True Series

Mr Sasquatch - Kewaunee
If you have not read them yet, go back to my postings from July 21st and July 28th. This Part 3 is my final posting on my 2012 Big Amazing Adventure. Besides the vortex photography, being touched by an Ancient one, and the hooting in the night, two more events on this mini-expedition have produced lasting memories.

First the people of northeastern Washington State were very gracious and accommodating, discussing their pure knowledge of all the strangeness in the forest. Their encounters with these paranormal beings were much more normal than in any other place I have been to do research. These encounters are quite commonplace. It seemed like everyone there has had some type of experience or know some reliable person who has had one or more. Whoever we approached about this subject, they were willing to comment and help add a piece of the puzzle to one of the greatest mysteries in our human history, namely that we live in a multi-dimensional world which is shared by Bigfoot and a host of others beings and that at times they will come out and play.

And lastly as I stood in the middle of the night in the great darkness within this huge beautiful forest a few miles from Canada, it struck me. There were no crickets, no birds, and no small creatures, nothing was making a sound, it was dead silence. You could hear your heartbeat and the neurons in your mind firing. Never have I heard the void, but now I have. It was like hearing “God’s” voice in the vast silence of this magnificent place. So what made this silence so profound was it set up your brain to wait for a sound that would totally imprint itself in your mind, it was truly like being in another dimension, a place where fantasy comes true.

Thank you to my dear friend, Kewaunee, for taking me on this Journey.

Sleep Tight – knowing we are a multi-dimensional world, makes it all worth waking up tomorrow.

I didn't know him – but he was worth knowing— Steve Job's sister and her eulogy to him — There is a Connection— .

A Sister’s Eulogy for Steve Jobs
By MONA SIMPSON from the New York Times

I grew up as an only child, with a single mother. Because we were poor and because I knew my father had emigrated from Syria, I imagined he looked like Omar Sharif. I hoped he would be rich and kind and would come into our lives (and our not yet furnished apartment) and help us. Later, after I’d met my father, I tried to believe he’d changed his number and left no forwarding address because he was an idealistic revolutionary, plotting a new world for the Arab people.
Related

Opinion: The Genius of Jobs (October 30, 2011)
Even as a feminist, my whole life I’d been waiting for a man to love, who could love me. For decades, I’d thought that man would be my father. When I was 25, I met that man and he was my brother.

By then, I lived in New York, where I was trying to write my first novel. I had a job at a small magazine in an office the size of a closet, with three other aspiring writers. When one day a lawyer called me — me, the middle-class girl from California who hassled the boss to buy us health insurance — and said his client was rich and famous and was my long-lost brother, the young editors went wild. This was 1985 and we worked at a cutting-edge literary magazine, but I’d fallen into the plot of a Dickens novel and really, we all loved those best. The lawyer refused to tell me my brother’s name and my colleagues started a betting pool. The leading candidate: John Travolta. I secretly hoped for a literary descendant of Henry James — someone more talented than I, someone brilliant without even trying.

When I met Steve, he was a guy my age in jeans, Arab- or Jewish-looking and handsomer than Omar Sharif.

We took a long walk — something, it happened, that we both liked to do. I don’t remember much of what we said that first day, only that he felt like someone I’d pick to be a friend. He explained that he worked in computers.

I didn’t know much about computers. I still worked on a manual Olivetti typewriter.

I told Steve I’d recently considered my first purchase of a computer: something called the Cromemco.

Steve told me it was a good thing I’d waited. He said he was making something that was going to be insanely beautiful.

I want to tell you a few things I learned from Steve, during three distinct periods, over the 27 years I knew him. They’re not periods of years, but of states of being. His full life. His illness. His dying.

Steve worked at what he loved. He worked really hard. Every day.

That’s incredibly simple, but true.

He was the opposite of absent-minded.

He was never embarrassed about working hard, even if the results were failures. If someone as smart as Steve wasn’t ashamed to admit trying, maybe I didn’t have to be.

When he got kicked out of Apple, things were painful. He told me about a dinner at which 500 Silicon Valley leaders met the then-sitting president. Steve hadn’t been invited.

He was hurt but he still went to work at Next. Every single day.

Novelty was not Steve’s highest value. Beauty was.

For an innovator, Steve was remarkably loyal. If he loved a shirt, he’d order 10 or 100 of them. In the Palo Alto house, there are probably enough black cotton turtlenecks for everyone in this church.

He didn’t favor trends or gimmicks. He liked people his own age.

His philosophy of aesthetics reminds me of a quote that went something like this: “Fashion is what seems beautiful now but looks ugly later; art can be ugly at first but it becomes beautiful later.”

Steve always aspired to make beautiful later.

He was willing to be misunderstood.

Uninvited to the ball, he drove the third or fourth iteration of his same black sports car to Next, where he and his team were quietly inventing the platform on which Tim Berners-Lee would write the program for the World Wide Web.Steve was like a girl in the amount of time he spent talking about love. Love was his supreme virtue, his god of gods. He tracked and worried about the romantic lives of the people working with him.
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Opinion: The Genius of Jobs (October 30, 2011)
Whenever he saw a man he thought a woman might find dashing, he called out, “Hey are you single? Do you wanna come to dinner with my sister?”

I remember when he phoned the day he met Laurene. “There’s this beautiful woman and she’s really smart and she has this dog and I’m going to marry her.”

When Reed was born, he began gushing and never stopped. He was a physical dad, with each of his children. He fretted over Lisa’s boyfriends and Erin’s travel and skirt lengths and Eve’s safety around the horses she adored.

None of us who attended Reed’s graduation party will ever forget the scene of Reed and Steve slow dancing.

His abiding love for Laurene sustained him. He believed that love happened all the time, everywhere. In that most important way, Steve was never ironic, never cynical, never pessimistic. I try to learn from that, still.

Steve had been successful at a young age, and he felt that had isolated him. Most of the choices he made from the time I knew him were designed to dissolve the walls around him. A middle-class boy from Los Altos, he fell in love with a middle-class girl from New Jersey. It was important to both of them to raise Lisa, Reed, Erin and Eve as grounded, normal children. Their house didn’t intimidate with art or polish; in fact, for many of the first years I knew Steve and Lo together, dinner was served on the grass, and sometimes consisted of just one vegetable. Lots of that one vegetable. But one. Broccoli. In season. Simply prepared. With just the right, recently snipped, herb.

Even as a young millionaire, Steve always picked me up at the airport. He’d be standing there in his jeans.

When a family member called him at work, his secretary Linetta answered, “Your dad’s in a meeting. Would you like me to interrupt him?”

When Reed insisted on dressing up as a witch every Halloween, Steve, Laurene, Erin and Eve all went wiccan.

They once embarked on a kitchen remodel; it took years. They cooked on a hotplate in the garage. The Pixar building, under construction during the same period, finished in half the time. And that was it for the Palo Alto house. The bathrooms stayed old. But — and this was a crucial distinction — it had been a great house to start with; Steve saw to that.

This is not to say that he didn’t enjoy his success: he enjoyed his success a lot, just minus a few zeros. He told me how much he loved going to the Palo Alto bike store and gleefully realizing he could afford to buy the best bike there.

And he did.

Steve was humble. Steve liked to keep learning.

Once, he told me if he’d grown up differently, he might have become a mathematician. He spoke reverently about colleges and loved walking around the Stanford campus. In the last year of his life, he studied a book of paintings by Mark Rothko, an artist he hadn’t known about before, thinking of what could inspire people on the walls of a future Apple campus.

Steve cultivated whimsy. What other C.E.O. knows the history of English and Chinese tea roses and has a favorite David Austin rose?

He had surprises tucked in all his pockets. I’ll venture that Laurene will discover treats — songs he loved, a poem he cut out and put in a drawer — even after 20 years of an exceptionally close marriage. I spoke to him every other day or so, but when I opened The New York Times and saw a feature on the company’s patents, I was still surprised and delighted to see a sketch for a perfect staircase.

With his four children, with his wife, with all of us, Steve had a lot of fun.

He treasured happiness.Then, Steve became ill and we watched his life compress into a smaller circle. Once, he’d loved walking through Paris. He’d discovered a small handmade soba shop in Kyoto. He downhill skied gracefully. He cross-country skied clumsily. No more.
Related

Opinion: The Genius of Jobs (October 30, 2011)
Eventually, even ordinary pleasures, like a good peach, no longer appealed to him.

Yet, what amazed me, and what I learned from his illness, was how much was still left after so much had been taken away.

I remember my brother learning to walk again, with a chair. After his liver transplant, once a day he would get up on legs that seemed too thin to bear him, arms pitched to the chair back. He’d push that chair down the Memphis hospital corridor towards the nursing station and then he’d sit down on the chair, rest, turn around and walk back again. He counted his steps and, each day, pressed a little farther.

Laurene got down on her knees and looked into his eyes.

“You can do this, Steve,” she said. His eyes widened. His lips pressed into each other.

He tried. He always, always tried, and always with love at the core of that effort. He was an intensely emotional man.

I realized during that terrifying time that Steve was not enduring the pain for himself. He set destinations: his son Reed’s graduation from high school, his daughter Erin’s trip to Kyoto, the launching of a boat he was building on which he planned to take his family around the world and where he hoped he and Laurene would someday retire.

Even ill, his taste, his discrimination and his judgment held. He went through 67 nurses before finding kindred spirits and then he completely trusted the three who stayed with him to the end. Tracy. Arturo. Elham.

One time when Steve had contracted a tenacious pneumonia his doctor forbid everything — even ice. We were in a standard I.C.U. unit. Steve, who generally disliked cutting in line or dropping his own name, confessed that this once, he’d like to be treated a little specially.

I told him: Steve, this is special treatment.

He leaned over to me, and said: “I want it to be a little more special.”

Intubated, when he couldn’t talk, he asked for a notepad. He sketched devices to hold an iPad in a hospital bed. He designed new fluid monitors and x-ray equipment. He redrew that not-quite-special-enough hospital unit. And every time his wife walked into the room, I watched his smile remake itself on his face.

For the really big, big things, you have to trust me, he wrote on his sketchpad. He looked up. You have to.

By that, he meant that we should disobey the doctors and give him a piece of ice.

None of us knows for certain how long we’ll be here. On Steve’s better days, even in the last year, he embarked upon projects and elicited promises from his friends at Apple to finish them. Some boat builders in the Netherlands have a gorgeous stainless steel hull ready to be covered with the finishing wood. His three daughters remain unmarried, his two youngest still girls, and he’d wanted to walk them down the aisle as he’d walked me the day of my wedding.

We all — in the end — die in medias res. In the middle of a story. Of many stories.

I suppose it’s not quite accurate to call the death of someone who lived with cancer for years unexpected, but Steve’s death was unexpected for us.

What I learned from my brother’s death was that character is essential: What he was, was how he died.

Tuesday morning, he called me to ask me to hurry up to Palo Alto. His tone was affectionate, dear, loving, but like someone whose luggage was already strapped onto the vehicle, who was already on the beginning of his journey, even as he was sorry, truly deeply sorry, to be leaving us.

He started his farewell and I stopped him. I said, “Wait. I’m coming. I’m in a taxi to the airport. I’ll be there.”

“I’m telling you now because I’m afraid you won’t make it on time, honey.”

When I arrived, he and his Laurene were joking together like partners who’d lived and worked together every day of their lives. He looked into his children’s eyes as if he couldn’t unlock his gaze.

Until about 2 in the afternoon, his wife could rouse him, to talk to his friends from Apple.

Then, after awhile, it was clear that he would no longer wake to us.

His breathing changed. It became severe, deliberate, purposeful. I could feel him counting his steps again, pushing farther than before.

This is what I learned: he was working at this, too. Death didn’t happen to Steve, he achieved it.

He told me, when he was saying goodbye and telling me he was sorry, so sorry we wouldn’t be able to be old together as we’d always planned, that he was going to a better place.

Dr. Fischer gave him a 50/50 chance of making it through the night.

He made it through the night, Laurene next to him on the bed sometimes jerked up when there was a longer pause between his breaths. She and I looked at each other, then he would heave a deep breath and begin again.

This had to be done. Even now, he had a stern, still handsome profile, the profile of an absolutist, a romantic. His breath indicated an arduous journey, some steep path, altitude.

He seemed to be climbing.

But with that will, that work ethic, that strength, there was also sweet Steve’s capacity for wonderment, the artist’s belief in the ideal, the still more beautiful later.

Steve’s final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times.

Before embarking, he’d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life’s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them.

Steve’s final words were:

OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW.

For Seekers Only – Frank Wolak presents at New Mexico UFO/Paranormal Forum’s March Event – Is it all true Series ? #178

For Seekers Only – Frank Wolak presents at New Mexico UFO/Paranormal Forum’s March Event

Frank Wolak is a man of diversity; the highlights of his career path are as follows: second Lt. US Army Engineer, West Point Graduate, Master of Science, Nuclear Engineer MIT, oversaw construction of a nuclear reactor in Alaska, and over the last 30 years he has studied and researched the positive side of life and all its possibilities.

Frank discussed the concepts that affect our personal life and all its challenges and the intense positive energy of the Universe and its role in granting the answers to what we desire. He walked us through the 24,500-year cycle and the present movement between the third and the fourth dimensions. If you are a seeker and you take advantage of the opportunity that the Universe will offer, you can move on to the next dimension.

Frank spoke with great knowledge about how we all have free will, how we obtain it and how we need to keep it. The theme I enjoyed the most was that we are all God. You are a creator, and you are a God. Love of everything makes us as I say “Big”, and Fear is humanity’s biggest issue – as I say it makes us very small. We as humans have been in a brainwash mode since we were babies. We have been fed fear to keep us in a sub-potential role here on earth.

Frank spent a good portion of his discussion on the role of the right and left-brains. Frank is saying as we shift in the next year or so, we or some of us will start shifting more into a right brain world, a God consciousness world. The shift to 4th dimension will be an era of no time/space, only energy.

And to the infinite only ask what you agreed to, and you will be satisfied forever. And one last thing: Frank made us do an exercise – make a list from your heart of the things that you desire and give it to the infinite. Put the list in a safe place and forget about it. Wonderful things will happen to you and when you get the list out of that safe place, you will see the infinite spirit has lived up to the agreement it made with you, when you came to hang, here on earth.

Sleep Tight – in the future you will not need to sleep, for energy doesn’t sleep. Oh and one more Frankism – Don’t reject anything that is put in front of you.

MWiz.

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"The Day before Disclosure" – See and think

A film By award winning Director Terjo Toftenes, Timing of this maybe perfect or near perfect. ENJOY and Think always think .

WWW. new paradigm.no– Other interesting UFO/Paranormal Films

http://www.thedaybeforedisclosure.com ( See it here)- Cut and Paste into your browser-

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