The Curious Problem of Timeline-Jumping

Posted on August 9, 2024 by danielleegnew

I don’t know if anybody else experiences this—yet as someone who surfs multiple timelines on the regular, I sometimes experience more than one timeline weaving over the top of itself in my physical life. They twist and turn in and out of one another in real time, and it’s a pain in the 3-D keester.

I don’t talk about this much because it makes me sound like I’m having some schizo-effective breakdown (I’m not–I don’t think, lol), however, as the ethers have thinned, this issue has gotten more obnoxious in my life. It started in 2017, to a noticeable level. I’ve even head others talk about these timeline jumps in their own life. Some call it “The Mandela Effect”.

For instance, since 2017, I’ve had very vivid recollections of detailed occurrences that as it turns out—I’m the only one recalling.

Like a full-on conversation I’ve had with, say, my wife, in the kitchen, about something that included a lot of details. I’ll recall my daughter milling about in the kitchen as my wife and I sussed out details, batting ideas back and forth as we do, because she’s stubborn Scot earth sign and I’m a stubborn Italian water sign. I’ll recall my kid saying something about an event she’s attending, I’ll recall what I’m doing in the kitchen while I watch my wife, say, cook, and I’ll recall the outcome of this conversation with my wife, regarding whatever it was we were batting around. I can even recall that the event probably took around 20 minutes, because she was cooking and now the food was ready.

This isn’t a random “vision”. This is a visceral reality that I’m part of, and so is everybody else. I’m even chewing in this recollection, and swallowing, and doing things like searching for a clean water glass. The kid is ignoring our conversation and bobbing her head listening to something in her ear buds while she’s looking at her phone.

It’s real-life stuff.

Fast-forward to two weeks ahead. The issue my wife and I were batting about comes up. She asks about it as if we’ve never discussed it. I’m way confused. I remind her we have discussed it. She insists we didn’t. I remind her of the 20-minute blow-by-blow conversation we had about it. She looks at me like I’m crazy, tells me I must have had that conversation with someone else, and keeps insisting we didn’t have the conversation. I insist it was her, cite the dinner she was making, and say, hold on sister, Nora was there – so I run down Nora and recount the story to her, and she has no idea what I’m talking about either.  

I say to Nora, “Yes, you do, we asked you about A and B, while you were getting ready to go with your friends to Subway, because you were waiting on so and so to pick up such and such, so you guys could go celebrate Friend A passing their math class. Remember? It was that day, about two weeks ago.”

Nora will stare weirdly at me and say, “How did you know so and so passed their math class?”

I’ll say, “Because you told me you guys were celebrating.”

Nora’s a little used to this weird stuff happening, but it still weirds her out once in awhile, and she’ll look at me and say: “So and so JUST passed their math class YESTERDAY. Today in the hall we were talking about meeting up at Subway to celebrate TONIGHT. That didn’t happen two weeks ago. We’re going to Subway TONIGHT to celebrate.”

Then my wife will say–“I told you we didn’t talk about it. You’re in the wrong timeline.”

Welcome to my family dynamics.

Now, unless my wife and my daughter are conspiring to gaslight me into oblivion to drive me crazy, like that awful woman did to Sarah Paulson’s character on American Horror Story—it’s a timeline jump.

Not to mention that Rebecca and I have to RE-discuss the issue all over again. In an effort to save 20 minutes of my life, and hers, I’ve made the mistake of telling her what I’ve said and what she said, and how we got to the conclusion we got to—yet she doesn’t care to hear her opinion in whatever timeline she doesn’t recall. She would rather go from scratch. That’s fair.

For her, were breaking new ground. For me, it’s groundhog day.

Anyway, this has happened increasingly more since 2017, where we went through an ENORMOUS timeline jump with the Trump presidency. I’m not going to detail seven years’ worth of blogging about this exact issue, however I’ll recap enough to say that after the 2017 election, folks all over reported the weirdest “flu symptoms”, which were a bit of a mystery; dizziness, never-ending nausea, weakness, no congestion or runny nose, disorientation in their own life, just feeling foggy and off, for a month or six weeks at a time. The closest cousin to those symptoms, for that duration of time, is what NASA calls “Dimensional Sickness”, and it’s experienced by astronauts who have been up in space for a long time, and their body is out of sync with earth’s geomagnetic time. So their body and brain suffer as they come back to earth, trying to “sync” back up to our timeframe, down here.

It’s an astrophysics issue.

In 2017, folks who voted for Trump recall feeling euphoric and like they could “breathe” for the first time. So perhaps they’d been living in an ether or dimension that was problematic for them, all the time before Trump got elected, and his election, knocking us into whatever ether, or dimension that it was, felt better to them, as it was a “home” dimension for a vibration that was more comfortable to them? (A dimension is simply a vibrational habitat for matter.)

This is all just speculation. I’m not a Physicist, sadly for me.

Sure, all those physcial symptoms coming from folks who didn’t vote for Trump could’ve been anxiety symptoms, but not for six weeks’ worth of nausea and dizziness and disorientation. I mean, c’mon. I wasn’t thrilled GW Bush won, so I pouted for about a week, and moved on, like America used to do.

This 2017 issue was something else.

Since 2017, I’ve had these very visceral timeline jumps occur. Thankfully, while having them, I could recount occurrences that I thought had already happened, that eventually DID happen, so I didn’t seem like a complete looney who was having some “break” with reality.

Most recently, as we came into July, late June, I started experiencing a great deal of them, in quicker succession—one I JUST found out about that I’ll share in a moment.

I’ve started to notice a pattern with these timeline jumps. They happen right after an etheric shift pops us from one nearly-identical multiverse into another adjacent one. Opportunities for a timeline jump, at least for me, are the most “extreme” directly after this etheric shift happens. Then they taper off.

The other pattern I’ve just recently picked up is that these weird loops happen in great frequency right BEFORE a timeline shift—and I’m just putting this together today which is why I’m writing this blog.

Let me back up a little.

In 2020, I predicted that Biden would win the election, and when he did, he would seek only one term, because he was a “bridge” candidate, as he put it. He was going to NOT seek re-election in 2024, and hand running over to Kamala Harris. This was a SOLID timeline. It was a solid as granite. Nothing was moving that puppy. I talked about it, this “prediction” all throughout 2020-2023

Then he announced he was seeking re-election in 2024.

EXCUSE ME?

Cue the record player with needle scratching—that wasn’t right. I’m not saying I can’t be wrong, because obviously I can, but this was SUCH a set timeline to have him hand it off to Harris, that to have him step back into wanting to run for POTUS felt weeeeeird, and…OFF.

Waaaaay, way off.

And I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Most of America was scratching our heads.

What the hell? What would’ve changed? Were we on the brink of a world war and the Dems talked him into staying so we wouldn’t be changing out the Commander in Chief right before some heinous global conflict, that I wasn’t seeing in any timeline?

I mean, whattup, man?

Right after Biden announced, I experienced a series of weird timeline jumps—nothing catastrophic—some pains in the butt with a few work “conversations” that I explicitly recall having with folks, including notes I took, that the person didn’t recall having at ALL, and once they didn’t recall having them, all the notes I took seemed to miraculously disappear from the notebook I wrote them in (tell me that’s not a mindf-ck). They just didn’t exist in this timeline. But they existed in my memory. I gaslit myself and told myself I must’ve written the notes on another surface. Like an envelope. Even though all other notes are in the notebooks.

Thankfully those convos worked out in the end—the people and I came to the exact same conclusions (AGAIN) as we did in the first conversation we had, we worked through the SAME numbers as we did before, in whatever timeline I recalled, that no one else recalls—and I weirdly seemed like I had my sh*t miraculously together, like some planning savant, chomping through all the details at breakneck speed–because I’ve already done it once.

Unbelievable.

However, I did notice not feeling super well through mid-June to July. That same weirdo feeling of being “out of it” with a funky stomach, all the things. I took covid tests and was negative. I have a stomach of steel, so the funky stomach and extreme fatigue was strange, though I’m a chick in menopause years, so all bets are off when it comes to anything physical.

I recalled this feeling familiar. And strange, and uncomfy. The closest equivocation I had to it was right after Trump was elected, but to a lesser degree. I kind of blew that off, though, because that was a rotten time in many ways in my life, and I just didn’t want to draw a parallel.

Speed forward to today, August 9th, 2024.

Today one of my Rocky Mountain Academy of Energetic Arts instructors reached out to me and needed something for students. I was surprised by the request, because I had vivid memories of emailing these materials to her after I came back from a trip to Vancouver, and before a big weekend event at the end of July. I only had a day and a half between the two, and I had received a text from her while I was in Vancouver that her class was completed, and she needed the materials.

I had vivid memories of creating the materials at the top of July, before I got busy the rest of the month, and having them finished so I could just email them off to her when her class was completed.

I had vivid memories of listening to Kenny Chesney on my phone as I worked on the materials because I had previously been working on something else, and hauled the Kenny channel with me to my next task.

I have vivid memories of the funny email I sent her with the materials, and the relieved sensation I had, having had completed the materials in such advance, with as tight as my schedule was.

This series of memories stretches from about July 2nd to July 24th.

So when I got her email wondering where the materials were, I was surprised. I thought surely maybe they got hung up in my email, or maybe I had a typo in her address. I checked my sent folder. Nothing. Weird.

Okay, so maybe I forgot to send them. Maybe I was just GOING to send them, and envisioned doing that, but I got interrupted and it never happened. That’s a thing in my universe. SOOOO—I go into my RMAEA folder on my hard drive to re-send the materials I had made.

They aren’t there.

I check all the folders. The materials I spent several Keny Chesney songs on–don’t exist. I checked other RMAEA folders, in case I was on a really distracted course and put them somewhere else. Nope. Nothing. (It’s important to note here that I’m a big tech-head and I’m INSANELY specific and detailed about my files and my folders.  Have too much going on not to be.)

Now I’m getting a little freaked out, and I have that free-falling panicky feeling you get, like, in a nightmare, so I open up Photoshop and look to see my usage path. The last RMAEA folder access, from photoshop—was in APRIL.

Not July. APRIL.

No email evidence. No files I worked on while listening to Kenny Chesney. No Photoshop file path to RMAEA since April. Nuthin’.

I write my instructor back and apologize, explain the situation, suggest I get a CT scan, and take a minute to think about the whole thing.

There’s menopause brain fog, there’s schizo-effective disorder, there’s being too busy—but this was way, waayyyyy too many details, and emotional responses, in linear calendar order, to just be a brain fart, or a delusion I had after, as Scrooge put it, a “bad piece of cheese”.

I was very clearly stuck in one of these timeline jumps, but this was a BIGGIE. It was EPIC. It erased a month’s worth of work I did. That was new! I mean, maybe this has happened before, and I just didn’t notice it—yet I specifically recalled all of these events, because my schedule was so tight.

What had changed? What the hell had changed in July, that would cause such an enormous ripple? I start Googling, because for July, I was in a blissful world of vacations, loving on friends and family, and reunions.  

And then I find it.

On July 21st, Joe Biden announced he was dropping out of the election. There was speculation as to whether he would stay stepped-down.

On July 25th, he held the press conference to make it official.

I sent the materials to my instructor on Wednesday, July 24th, roughly one hour after I landed from Vancouver back to Billings.

There it was.

The timeline of Joe Biden handing the Presidency opportunity to Kamala Harris—the timeline I had been seeing since 2020, and all through his Presidency—had been restored.

So pretty much, I’d been doing all this work in a temporary timeline that was elbowed out of the way, for the predominant timeline to return to its poll position. Mystery solved. Not CT scan required.

Dear lord.

I study physics all the time. I love it. It helps explain this oddly-woven-together reality we all manifest together. The Marvel Universe broke the mainstream ice on introducing audiences to time-jumping and multiverses. Prior to that, we had Doctor Who.

I recall writing screenplays about timeline jumping and multiverses, and presenting them at Producer meetings, in LA, when my first screenplay was optioned. I was told in 2006 by the guy who once greenlit movies for 20th Century Fox that no one would understand what I was talking about. “It’s too complex, darling,” he’d say. “You’ll lose your audience. Your characters are brilliant, and your mind is a thing of beauty. Someday the world will catch up with you.” I recall that meeting like it was a foggy yesterday—a meeting that was, as a side note, predicted by my cousin Jeremy one year prior, right down to the uphostery on the chairs. (The Psychic gift runs in the family.)

Because really—what IS time, anyway? I can tell you—it’s not what we think it is.

Anyway. My RMAEA instructor now has her materials. I took a few minutes and re-created them. She confirmed she received them. So all is well, and that particular timeline is restored.

You may notice that the past few weeks, the world feels like traffic that finally started moving on the 405 after being dead-stopped for several hours. Or, for my more rural peeps, it’s like watching a river break free from an ice pack that’s been there for months, when the water roars forward, pushing the mammoth log jam forward.

That’s what snapping back into a predominant timeline feels like.

And it’s occurring to me that even though I’m wildly fascinated with this, and even though I’m weirdly wired to recall the *entire* wiped-over timeline once I’ve exited it (which has been a real source of WTAF for me over the years), I’ll never be able to notice the “pre-compression” of a timeline jumping off track right before a major shift—until after the event.

Because even though I’m now aware of this energetic pattern, and the physical attributes associated with a timeline jump, and what occurs after the jump, I won’t notice the jump until I see something missing, that was once there: a conversation, notes, files, emails—now not existing, at all. And me either looking like a loon, reciting conversations to people we “never had” (REALLY??), or me looking like a super-genius who solved a complex problem in no time at all. Because I’ve already worked through the problem, for hours—with someone else.

The prophet Joni Mitchell put it the very best: “We don’t know what we’ve got til it’s gone.”

Pave paradise, and put up a parking lot. Until the parking lot vanishes, as the predominant timeline that would bring about the most optimum existence–rights itself.

Maybe that’s what we’re all waiting for?

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A Message for Gen X

Posted on August 5, 2024 by danielleegnew

Did you know it takes less champagne to get a buzz when you’re pressurized at 5,000 feet, than it does at sea level? #GenXWisdom

I’m a GenXer. We’re one of the smallest generations, yet wow, are we packed with generational gifts and purpose.

Lately I’ve been countered quite a number of people who have said things like “I don’t have any friends,” “I’m okay with not having friends.” or “I really don’t like people, but I like you.”

It’s a surprising number of people who say this.

I don’t think this is actually true, about the friends part. I think folks have all kinds of friends, but what I think folks are saying is that they maybe don’t have friends that they do something with, regularly, outside of their spouse.

A lot of these folks I’m hearing this from are in their late 40s through early 60s, so that’s sort of an age group where we settle in and get into our life routines.

I also see a lot of bitter tinges in this demographic. A lot disappointment. A lot of feelings of “lost purpose”.

I’m 55, so obviously I hang around this demographic quite a bit, lol! And there is a lot of complicated feeling that circulate in what we like to call “middle age” (which really, would mean we’re living to be 110, something those of us in our 50’s have crossed the “middle age barrier, lol).

There are particularly the fears that Gen X has brought with us into this time in life—fears of being forgotten, fears of being abandoned, fears of having no money, fears of an economy dropping right out and having no jobs (that’s what happened when we got out of college), fear of people not loving us for exactly who we are, because we were born into the very end of a changing old world as the Boomers were trying to bring in an uplifted and involved society—all of these things which we have packed forward from a childhood which, for many of us, was de-stabilized, for one reason or another.

Now, I truly believe that it was Gen X’s soul lesson to work through these things, so we could be very strong people when it came time to be the bridge from the old world to the New World.

(BTW, Gen X—that’s actually our job. We created the freakin’ Internet, you guys. So suck it up. It’s our time to straddle one world, and throw the other leg up on the dock, to walk into another world. We’re really good at this shit, you guys. It’s what we’re made for.)

So why are so many Gen Xers wanting to retreat, and not talk to anybody, and not want to be anybody’s friend—and you guys, I know that’s our Ethos, “the loner”—but let’s be real, we secretly love our social groups. We all were the cast of ‘Friends’ at one time, and we ALL miss those days.

How many Gen Xers are actually kind of weirdly miserable, and they can’t put their finger on why?

Why do so many Gen Xers have such a restless itch inside of them, and we’re not able to satiate this?

I think it’s because many of us have forgotten what we are.

We are the generation that is here to support the framework of the New World. We are gritty AF. We are NOT fragile. We are our own mobile “safe space” because we had to be. We don’t have much boo-hoo to give, toward those who have squandered their privilege becoming obsessed with their own needs, them, them, them. And we rise to the occasion, per situation.

This is what I think about this endless “itch we can’t scratch”, Gen X.

It’s a calling.

And it’s time we answer.

It’s this biological “prompt” that our time is here. It’s NOW.

Our biology is going off like an alarm clock, GenX, screaming at us—

“Hey! You, the f*cker that wishes you were Beth Dutton— get off your Netflix-shaped ASS because you’re not gonna be here forever! Get your shit together and get out there and kick some ass! That’s what you were here for, remember? No, it *wasn’t* Nirvana and Soundgarden and the cocktails and the dance clubs and the roller coasters at Knotts Berry Farm. It’s THIS, Beavis. So ditch your Jammies, put some pants on, and go get it done. For Christ’s sake, already. You were NEVER gonna have it easy, Xer. That’s why you picked this gig. Because at the core of your being—you’re a shit-starter of the very best kind. Now suck it up, roll up your sleeves, get dirt under your fingernails, and go clean up aisle nine.”

And while our biology is ringing like this, worse than your tinnitus after a Metallica concert, the world is saying, “Be an influencer! Go virtual! Apply a filter! Cancel haters!”

Unreal, fake, filter—illusion.

GenX was the “get real” generation, so this is an offense to all of our senses.

GenX, no wonder we’re feeling itchy. We’re a cultural bomb trying to go off, in a virtual room with virtual people.

Like right now.

How does that happen?! By me typing “BOOOOOOOM!!!!!”…?

Yeah. I’m not the generation that finds that satisfying.

Xers, we want to see REAL WORLD change. We like the real world. We’re not afraid of it. We grew UP in the real world. We’re about moving the cultural markers so the real world keeps step. 3D is sexy to GenX.

Give us a pile of crap, and we’ll build you towers of garden space. Give us your consumer scraps and we’ll build you a love empire.

Like a plow to a field, GenX is to culture. Turn it over. Break it up. Let it breathe. Break it down. Fill it with oxygen. Rip it into rows where anything can be planted. Change the terrain to maximize growth.

Then it’s time to plant.

I really think that so many of us are absolutely mentally-spun-out because there’s this illusion that the ground is being plowed effectively—with an app.

(Yep. I know.)

GenX— we are power packed nuclear reactors of white-hot possibility.

It’s how we were trained as young people.

It’s how we trained ourselves.

And I think a lot of us are only using about 1/10th of what we got, under our hood, to bring change to this world, at this whacked-out point in time,  because most of us don’t wanna have an Instagram page and wear app-ears and whiskers, so we can keep people’s attention.

I’m 55. I have whiskers in real life. So there ya go. Listen up.

GenX, we’re being called back into action. That’s the itch you can’t seem to find, to scratch. (No. The scratch is not the hook-up you had back at the club a million years ago.)

Hey, listen, fellow Xers—for those who have taken a break— I don’t really blame us for sitting back a bit. We were the generation that fought incredibly hard for HIV/aids to be viewed as a real issue. We were the generation that threw our shoulders, hard, into the pad, for LGBTQI+ rights, standing on the shoulders of giants who suffered before us. We were the generation that started to really bang the gong about climate change, after our Boomer parents were screaming at us about not using Aquanet, to heal the hole in the ozone layer.

We canvased, we worked on right-to-die campaigns, we worked on media outlets, we brought messages forward, we worked in healthcare, we are constantly stomping for a better world. That’s just who we are! (We were raised by the Boomers, and they were constantly stomping for a better world. So it makes sense.)

So it’s understandable that a lot of us would be tired by the time we hit our late 40s and 50.

And let’s be honest, we don’t quite have the energy we used to. And all that stuff we used to do took a shit ton of energy. So obviously, we’re not supposed to go about the things the same way, Gen X.

But we’re not dead yet. 

It’s time to get activated as a generation again, Xers. We just keep waiting for society to correct itself—and it ain’t workin’.

We vote, we volunteer, and it just seems to be not happening as quickly as possible. I truly believe one of the reasons is because a big bulk of Gen X has been taking break. Not everybody, but many of us. We made the Internet, we made electric cars, we made flip phones, we tried to make as much of the Jetsons and Star Trek come true as we could—then the world kept being stupid—especially using all the stuff we made. (Well. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was supposed to make the world better. What the hell.)

So we moved ourselves into the “F*ck it” mode, and I think a lot of us have gotten sucked into the slow-drip of “middle America” in our quest to get better jobs, buy and support our homes, raise our kids, and then have an endless group of vultures circling our heads shouting “RETIREMENT!! RETIREMENT!! YOU’RE GONNA DIE IN RETIREMENT IF YOU DON’T _______.”

(^^^^This is an enormous ass-pain. I get that America runs on FOMO, but my God, the amount of people that make money off of the fear of intense suffering is absurd.)

I’m not saying GenX has dropped out! I know a ton of Gen Xers who have gone on to have careers in activism, careers in healthcare advocacy, teaching, public service —I mean the list is huge.

I’m saying that I believe that GenX was BORN for THIS timeframe.

Though the world needs all of us— GenX is what the gritty part of the world needs.

We’re tough but fair, we’re compassionate yet take no crap—and we don’t back down when the mountain we’re climbing is a righteous one.

PLUS—

Now we have wisdom. And a LOT of education, some of it formal, and a lot of it through 35 years of hands-on experience of what works, and what really, really doesn’t.

And, best of all, we won’t get sidetracked by partying too hard and vomiting our heads off in an alley, like we did in the 90s. We can actually stay on task and hold our endless martinis now.

In fact, Gen X, we’re just a little bit terrifying in our steeled vision, as TikTokers have recently expressed—which amounts to a lack of fear in our generation.

It’s true. We’re a little actually scary, if pushed.

Nobody wants to die, but we don’t fear death. We had that dangled over our head in high school with the Cold War and Russia, and a grizzly skin-popping, eyeball-baked nuclear demise, as portrayed on nightmarish nighttime miniseries after miniseries. (Literally. They gave me nightmares.)

Nobody likes to be called names, yet we were the generation that came out as openly gay, openly trans, openly Psychic, openly not going to college, openly whatever weird-ass thing— so sticks and muthaf*ckin’ stones, bitches. Bring it.

Nobody wants to be bullied, yet we were the generation who had to deal with bullies on our own, like the Boomers before us. Dealing with mean girls at school? You better get your verbal ninja skills sharpened. Some jock asshole saying he’s gonna beat you up at the park after school? You better pull your best Chuck Norris shit right out if your buttcrack because there’s no getting out of that.

If you run, you’re prey. If you show them they can best you, they’ll keep besting you. So plant your feet, use The Force, Luke— and lean in. Because when you get home, both of your parents are going to be at work anyway, so forget a hug and some uplifting advice. That’s what your friends are for.

That’s being GenX.

Nobody wants to be alone, but we’ve lost friends to HIV/AIDS when nobody talked about it, we’ve lost colleagues and family and friends as we enter into our 40s and 50s, we’ve gone through divorces and found the love of our lives, we understand that even if we did end up alone (nobody’s first choice), we would live. It would be us and the goddamn cockroaches—but GenX? We would live.

And we would plow a new field. For us and the roaches. Because that’s what GenX does.

So listen, Xers—you do have friends. Lots of them! You just need to reach out once in a while, and quit stewing in the tea of our generation’s lack of feeling like we have support. That’s just not true.

You DO have purpose. Tons of it! And the world needs exactly what we have to give right now. A little hug, a little attitude, a lot of fearlessness (we’ve learned to be afraid, one drip at a time—but that’s not us!) , and a ton of our best attribute—hope. Vision. Not giving one flat shit about what people think. And above all—

Knowing how to work together with one another, in the real world, to plow up this horse crap foundation, and plant something new.

Now. GenX. You go get yourself up, you get yourself a beer or a shot of tequila, or coffee or a protein drink or Kava or White Claw or whatever the hell your middle-age has driven you to do these days to make yourself feel better, and you dig deep and be honest with yourself about what boiling-pot it is, that you really want to be stirring.

Because life is begging you to do it.

Your psyche is begging you to do it.

Your DNA is begging you to do it.

You’re telling yourself you’re going crazy because of menopause, or because of midlife crisis, or any other psychological thing, when the fact of the matter is your entire being is vibrating to get out there and shake this dysfunctional shit up—and like George Michael said back in the day, choose LIFE!! (That doesn’t mean “don’t have an abortion”. That means “pull yer head out of your ass and initiate your gifts in the world”.)

It’s that simple.

GenX. Remember what generation you are. Pull out that fearlessness to evolve and change, because your vision is clear as a bell—and go stir up that ground. Plow up that fertile soil. Start that good trouble, that non-violent trouble that only we are capable of, silently changing a culture from the back room, when no one is looking.

We are goddamn gurus with that shit.

It’s what our generation is here for. Scratch that itch, beotch!

I mean after all, Gen X—what are they gonna do?

Take our retirement away?? 😂😂😂😂

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Shining like the Son

Posted on March 31, 2024 by danielleegnew

A beautiful, happy observance of the Resurrected Christ to all who celebrate Easter Sunday!!🕊️

To those who don’t, may you feel the renewal of spring and the comfort of light overcoming darkness, deep within your being!

The Christed energy is bigger than even one human being. It is so big, it raised Jesus from the dead. It is so big, it goes well beyond one religion or one spirituality modality. It is the birthright of all living things.

It is renewal, it is regeneration, it is the hope of great rebirth and the conquering of what appears to be unconquerable. It is the magnificent understanding that God (or however anyone recognizes a force larger than themselves) is so powerful that it can overcome even that which seems to be understood as “natural order”—death—because all God energy is the order.

We are all part of this powerful energy. All of us.

Christ, the alchemist, working darkness to light, pain to purpose, fear to forgiveness.

We are all part of this miracle of transformation, this repurposing of inner death to inner life. Afterall, Jesus Himself said that we could do everything He could do, and greater.

Death is not only physical. It is emotional. It is psychological,

We can change our mind at any moment. And in that change, spark a revolution in our soul that authors new worlds full of peace, all around us.

Jesus was the bringer of examples: how to be kind, how to be giving, how to be patient, how to be strong in the face of prejudice and hatred, how to have courage to stand in the gap for the meek, the oppressed, for those without a home or a country, or food, for those without a voice; how to identify the false piousness of racism and sexism and homo-and-transphobia and then how to forgive oneself for falling prey to that hypnotic hypocrisy; how to love, and love, and to miracle, and to love.

How to love above all things.

On this Easter, March 31st 2024, Darkness rages hard against the Light. It rages to capture the joy from this day of acknowledging miracles and love. It rages to steal the spotlight from the soft and sacred nature of love-trascendence, of the resurrection of an all-loving Christ. It hisses and screams and grabs for the spotlight, swinging it into its leering face, sinkingly desperate to draw attention away from love, rebirth, miracle and endless Universal connection—to division. Hatred. Mockery.

Narcissism is the nature of Evil—a bottomless pit of unfulfilled need, forever starving for what it will never give itself: self-love.

Today, Easter Sunday happens to fall on March 31st. Easter falls on a differing date every year. However, the Trangender Day of Visibility falls on March 31st, every year.

Yet this year, an election year, political extremists seeking reelection have capitalized on this dual-date fact, posting meme after meme about how the current President is celebrating Trans people instead of celebrating Christ—like they supposedly are.

The memes include POTUS smiling and embracing trans women and trans men.

And the irony of these memes is staggering.

These political extremists seek to paint themselves as he truly holy. They grandstand about their faith. Something Jesus spoke strongly against:

5 “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”
—Matthew 5:6 / NIV Bible

These political extremists chide the President for reaching out to out to—and being kind to—people in the trans community, human beings who these same self-proclaimed “Christians” deem as “lesser than”. Jesus had much to say on the marginalization of others:

40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ 41 “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’ 44 “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ 45 “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’
—Matthew 25:40-45/ NIV Bible

In their avarice to keep their political office, these political extremists are in direct opposition with the teachings of the Christ Jesus they claim to worship.

It’s because their god is different. It is created in their own image, to represent their own purposes and their own ends. It is a god of convenience, of luxury. Of picking and choosing, of selfish reasons— “Jesus” is a brand they borrow, a camouflage to be accepted by those who seek the authority of Christ, an authority they wrongly borrow, for self-gain.

Their god is a god of deception, deceiving others, and deceiving themselves. Jesus talks about this as well:

43 Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say. 44 You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. 45 Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me!
— John 8:43 / NIV Bible

On this Easter Sunday, the internet explodes not only with the joy of rebirth and hope as Light eclipses Darkness—yet Darkness itself, as the Evil that shall not prevail in the world shrieks for attention in a way that it never has, with a hubris wreaking of the rage and blame and fear that accompanies the very desperation of that which is dying in the Light.

The Light.

Jesus, the Light of the World, the Teacher of love, acceptance and peace. Spring, the Light of the Earth, the Bringer of life and growth.

Jesus came into this world under great light. The Magi that visited Jesus at His birth were astrologers. They believed that God made the stars in the heavens to point to signs and wonders on the earth that helped humankind along a sometimes murky path.

The Magi followed a Light in the sky to Bethlehem. They followed the Light to the Light.

Right now, in the heavens, the planet Pluto has entered the astrological sign Aquarius, leaving the sign of Capricorn. Pluto is the astrological planet that “governs” the shadow-side of ourselves, and society. These shadows may be issues we aren’t comfortable looking at.

When Pluto, the “shadow planet”, was in the astrological sign of Capricorn, the world was a bit polarized, more black and white. Capricorn is ruled by the planet Saturn, which governs rules and money. The shadow planet Pluto spent 14 years in the areas of government, structure, and the practical. We saw authoritarian governments, individuals, and corporations grow in power.

Now it will spend 14 years in the sign of Aquarius ruled by the planet Uranus, the planet that governs innovation and surprising events.

Aquarius itself oversees independence, community, innovation, scientific reasoning, and looking at things in a rational way. Reckonings and lightning-bolt-in-a bottle innovations (technology, air travel) and community organizing is all part of Aquarius.

Jesus was quite the community organizer, quite the innovator. Jesus was quite the independent thinker. He looked at everything from a rational lens, a lens tempered in love—the great reckoner.

This Easter, we have shifted the “me” energies (Saturn viewpoint) to the “we” energies (Aquarian viewpoint.) This Easter, we have shifted to the Christ Consciousness.

What better time to celebrate the love for one another this Easter, the powerful overcoming of the “deaths” in our own lives—deaths in our consciousness, in our beliefs, in our courage, in our own thought processes, in our own life paths, in our own hearts.

Let us roll the massive stone away from the tomb of our own self-imposed-imprisonment, where the illusion of limitation and hopelessness is our captor, and the stagnant air of darkness is our all-too-familiar companion.

Welcome the rush of fresh air. Welcome hope and the renewing energy of the Light within all of us,

Like the Magi, we look to the heavens and see billions upon trillions of stars. They create a glow that picks a hole in the inkiest of blackness. We learn from the heavens about the power of connection. One glowing star makes a beautiful dot in the sky. Billions of stars then lights our walk through the forest at night.

It is their tapestry together that creates the magic.

That’s what Jesus came here to teach us, that our tapestry, together, weaves a world of peace and wonder in the amalgamated image of a Creator who is so diverse, it escapes our comprehension.

Nature reflects itself. Like the stars in the heavens, we humans burn brightly, each one of us. When combined together, we shine, and we light up each others’ paths through the forest in the darkness— just like the sun.

Just like the Son.

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Grit and Grace: Remembering our Greatest Strengths

Posted on February 26, 2024 by danielleegnew

Grab a coffee, take a quick five minute break from what you’re doing, and settle in with me for a hot minute.

I want to share a story with you of the incredible, unsung portions of our life paths that have forged us into people we never believed could be so strong or capable.

Many of those portions were flash-of-genius moments where we were able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, and create phenomenal outcomes with our sheer determination, grit, and unrelenting belief in what we and others were doing.

If you’ve ever been part of something like that—it’s very special. And you’ll never forget it.

In a world where Ai is touted as the way a person authors a book, writes a song, creates a storyboard, starts a business plan (look at the Google assistant ad, it’s a little scary)—I’m wondering about the health of our ingenuity and our grittiness; I have concerns when I look to the future, regarding people’s belief in themselves and their own ability to not only think outside the box, yet trouble-shoot, and in short—create stunning new outcomes and directions.

“What’s new?” and “What do you have coming up next?” are solid inquiries in conversation. Our need to know what folks have brewing in their life path seems to be an American quirk—I didn’t run into that “tell me your next big thing” propensity when I’ve traveled abroad.

It got me thinking about how we are so trained to look toward to our “next big venture” in the USA that sometimes we fail to really soak in the impact that our past has had on the incredible being we’ve become.

Now I’m not talking about losing oneself in the deep well of past glory days and getting stuck there. That’s a form of escapism and growth avoidance.

I’m talking about taking a moment to see where we’ve been, and how that’s helped form us into who we are.

What have we all done in our lives? So, so much. Incredible amounts, most of which we forget as time marches on.

Or, worse, we discount it.

This piece of paper below dates back to February 22nd 1996. It’s a snapshot in time of a David-and-Goliath moment in my own personal music history.

This paper was in a stack of Pope Jane memorabilia that I keep in what has been called “the black suitcase”, a briefcase full of late-nights at Kinkos, photos, snips and bits of press releases, news clipping, cassette sticky-labels, old table-toppers for New Year’s Eve gigs— it’s a bag that documents years’ worth of concrete building blocks, whose energy is just dripping with excitement and possibility, and unrelenting vision and hard work.

I keep the memorabilia because it is an homage to starting something from scratch, and working incredibly hard against ridiculously nearly-insurmountable odds to take something from the inside of your heart—out to the rest of the world.

Literally.

This paper below? It started that journey. I never forgot the moment that this paper documented.

I was 26 years old. Pope Jane had just recorded our first self-titled album, which was very difficult to achieve back in the day. We released the album on cassettes that we duplicated ourselves.

It was an insanely time-consuming process, from not only the tape-duping, which took time (remember having to flip over the tape??) , but also to the physical assembly of the cassettes.

Were there places that would duplicate cassettes? Sure! We just couldn’t afford a run of dupes at the time, which was a couple thousand dollars for 1,000 cassettes.

So by-hand it was.

I hand-laid-up the tape jacket insert. We’re talking glue sticks, scotch tape, and sharp scissors. Again, the only computers were ones you rented time on, at Kinkos. It was a cut-n-paste world for we starving artists back then.

Once I got our tape jacked designed where you wanted it, glue-stick in hand, i’d take it up to the Kinkos guy and get multiple tape jackets color-copied onto one 8.5 x 11 piece of paper, to save money.

Then I’d hand cut-out each tape jacket insert on those big paper-slicer things. (Because having Kinkos cut them added money I didn’t have to spend.)

Next, me or Kristen or Rita would meticulously fold up the tape jacket and insert it into the tape shell. I had a “folding template” I made and used because this was a crazy-precise thing, and if you messed it up, you wasted a tape jacket.

Again, refer back to the “starving artist” part of the story.

Back in the day I designed the fancy fold-out tape inserts (which were called J-cards because they were shaped like a J once folded up) so folks could read lyrics. We were really uptown, man, lol!

It was then time to apply the cassette sticky-label, whose song titles had been manually typed onto them by me on my Grandpa Louie’s old typewriter, and Kinkos would copy a sheet of them. So you’d peel and stick “Side A” and “Side B” labels on the cassettes.

Once that was all done, I took the assembled cassettes up to Aardvark film and video, in the heights, and they’d shrink wrap the cassettes for a dime a piece.

So each cassette probably had over an hour of production time into them.

We sold them for $5.

And of course, there was no duplicated cassette without recording an album.

You have to remember, there were no “today’s ease-of-use” computer programs that you could record your tracks with. No drag-and-drop loops or beats. There were no smart phones in 1996. Hardly anyone had personal computers in 1996, unless you were a business person.

To record an album, you bought studio time. That is, if you could afford it.

We couldn’t.

In a studio recording land back in 1996, digital recordings were just barely coming out. DAW (recording) Programs like Pro-Tools were in their infancy in the recording studio system. Digital recordings sounded too crisp, overly-cold. The kinks were still being ironed out with that.

So it was all mostly recording in analogue, either reel-to-reel tape, or a then-new-technology that came and went, called A-DAT, where you audio recorded to a VHS tape.

Incase you’re someone who is not familiar with tape, it’s an electromagnetic strip that is imprinted with sound waves. You never wanted to set a tape down by a strong magnet, or it would erase the tape. True story.

Anyway, we recorded our first Pope Jane album on a Tascam 4-Track cassette multitrack recorder that years prior, drummer Kristen had bought for me for my birthday.

Kristen knew how to audio engineer, as that’s what she learned at the then-Art Institute of Seattle. I learned audio engineering from years of observing when being recorded by others.

If you were a musician who could engineer, you opened up an entirely different world to yourself. It was like learning to write novels, for a reader.

The Tascam 4-Track was a MOST RAD gift back then, I’ll have you know. It meant we could do anything because it meant that we had 4 different tracks to layer up a recording on.

Except in Pope Jane, we had 16 tracks of instrumentation by the time you mic’ed up everybody plus the drums.

So to achieve this 16-track recording on a 4-Track, Pope Jane had to record live by going through 16 tracks on a soundboard that I had mix together in order to get a perfect sound balance sent to a stereo output—a live mix to two stereo tracks.

Because those 16 tracks had to get combined (or “mixed down”) to two stereo tracks. On a 4-track Tascam cassette recorder, you’d need to leave two open tracks to add vocals or lead guitar lines or whatever, later.

If somebody messed up while we were recording, the whole band had to start from scratch. No punching in just the bass or guitar. If was a full re-do, all live or all nothing.

In order for me to hear all this, because the band was in Holly’s daylight basement (our rehearsal space), I had to step outside the sliding glass door with my headphones attached to a long cable that fed into the four track recorder, so I could hear the mix in my headphones outside—all while Kristen pounded away on her drums, and Holly slapped away on her bass, and Rita pounded on her guitar inside.

I was wearing my guitar outside, too, and I would close the sliding glass door to cut the noise, to try to get a reasonable mix in the headphones.

I’d go in and out of the house, adjusting this, or panning that. It had to be perfect, or we’d have to start over.

Anyway. We got the 16-tracks-to-2-Tracks issue covered, I took the 4-track Tascam home and added vocals and lead instrument parts. Then I mixed it all to what’s called a “Master Tape” that’s used to duplicate from.

And now to the paper from 1996.

After going through all of this handmade manufacturing with the cassettes, it was tough to find a place to sell them. Remember—there was no Spotify, no Pandora. No Apple Music, no Google play.

MP3s wouldn’t be invented until 1998, two years later.

Nope, we had to go door-to-door in retail, and ask if there were shops that were willing to consign very small amounts of our cassette. In this case, five of them at a time.

I walked into a small eclectic store in downtown Billings, Barjon’s Books, which at the time was located where Soup and Such is now. The store had music and crystals and books— I felt like they may artist-friendly.

I met Barbara Shenkel, who was the owner, and I pitched her the idea of putting our tapes on consignment. She said she absolutely would, and you literally would’ve thought somebody offered me a distribution deal through Tower records. (God rest its soul).

Barjons Books (and music!) was the very first place to commercially sell our product. Ever.

Barbara Shenkel at Barjon’s gave me the confidence as a 26-year-old person, to then go to Cactus Records up in Bozeman, and other stores around Billings, and the country, to place our cassettes.

I put Holly down on this receipt, as the point of contact, because Holly’s then-husband was also doing some booking for us, so I figured I’d try to keep all the band business and one spot. But indeed, I was the one who had the honor of pitching to Barbara Shenkel why it would be a good idea to put five cassettes in her store, that belonged to an all female local band, who was trying to make it big.

Looking back on it, she probably didn’t think it was that big of a deal, and it probably was no skin off her nose to put five cassettes up on the shelf. However, I could see in her eyes when we talked, that she knew that it meant the world to me, to be able to have a retail outlet for our music.

And she wasn’t wrong.

Because we had one store that believed in us, I was able to get lots and lots and lots of other distribution for these cassettes.

Pretty soon we had far more distribution than we had time to make cassettes, and we were off to our first pressing of our next CD in 1998, whose title was “Relief”, recorded at the then-May Technical Collage. Michael May believed in our band and we were able to use our recording process as a learning tool for students. It was pretty cool.

I could then take these CDs we recorded at May Tech to the same stores whose connections I had made through the cassette distribution, and place the CD’s too.

Those cassettes. They were the great ice-breakers, busting apart a frozen sea of inaccessibility.

In a world where everything is published to the Internet instantly, it may be hard to recall a world where physical recordings were special, and precious, and there were plenty of gate keepers and hurdles to cling over, just to get your music out there.

And in fine form, Barbara Schenkel at Barjon’s also took on Relief CD’s, on consignment.

Now, years later, you can still stream Pope Jane’s “Relief” on Spotify and iTunes music, as well as dozens of other streamers. In fact, you can also stream Pope Jane’s other CD, “Hide Me From The Moon”, which came out in 2000, one year later, and was recorded at a very fancy studio in Seattle that the band was flown out for.

Yet this receipt.

This old receipt stuffed in my black suitcase, with all the Pope Jane memories.

This little piece of paper that has the wishes and the hopes and the dreams of a 26-year-old me, pinned right to it, and all the rest of us in Pope Jane—the little band full of BIG spitfire talented girls, that was going to take over the world, before girls were allowed to take over the world in music.

This receipt reminds me of what I am capable of. Of what we were capable of.

This receipt reminds me of what we’re all capable of, when we have the support of people who believe in us.

It reminds me of what we are all capable of, when we come together in common cause, and focus on our genius, and our ability, rather than our insecurities, weaknesses, or what divides us.

Five cassettes. Consigned. Giving four gals at the time—me, Kristen, Holly, and Rita—the confidence to keep going, the confidence to end up years later recording in Seattle, playing with Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart, Joan Jett, Loverboy, Kenny Chesney, Mark Chestnut, Ted Nugent— and so many others.

This is the power of effort. It’s the power of belief, especially the belief of someone else, in you.

Sure, it’s the power of a ton of rehearsal and a lot of dedication. But it’s also the power of community, lifting us all up, when we’re trying so hard to pour our heart into the world.

Thank you for listening to my story today. It’s allowed me to reflect back on some incredible strengths that quite honestly, I had forgotten I even had.

Life marches forward; our modern lives are so full of convenience, and sometimes it’s easy to forget that some of the greatest headway we’ve ever made, some of the most complex terrain we’ve ever traversed, was in the basement of a little house clear out in a prairie, trying desperately to smash too many tracks onto a cassette, or spending hours at a Kinkos, gluing and pasting and folding and trying not to cut your fingertips off making precise lines with the paper cutter—or the pride in having a dollar in your pocket to shrink wrap 10 cassette tapes.

In honor of this cassette, which really did launch us (and as a sidenote, I was actually given $500 for one of these cassettes by a guy who wandered into Casey’s during one of our shows, who was fresh off the oil fields in Wyoming, and he was so impressed with the band) —

—in honor of “the little cassette that could—and did”, I have digitally remastered this almost 30-year-old cassette, and am issuing 100 of them on a USB drive that looks exactly like the cassette. They’ll be $16 at our show on March 2nd.

Because these were great songs. And the artistry it took to get them perfect in one take was a reflection of the fact that we rehearsed four days a week back then. The pride we had in our art was shared by all of us.

All these years later, though it’s been since 2008 that Pope Jane has played together—I’m just so damn proud of this band, and what it has brought to me in my life, which far exceeded music—fellowship, family, fabulousness, film and TV opportunities —and the love and the awe that this little cassette has brought to my spirit…well, let’s put it to you this way:

Of all the four Pope Hane recordings, this little cassette was my favorite recording, and Holly’s favorite recording, and Kristen‘s favorite recording.

This little cassette.

As I said to the band back in that funny little prairie basement, while a very-expensive-for-us-back-in-the-day $7.00 dollar master cassette was playing in the Tascam 4- track, degrading in quality every time we had to record over it—

“The tape is rolling, you guys.”

This was code for “let’s shut up and get moving and not waste any more time or tape”. I’ll never forget Kristen’s comment from behind the drums—

“It’s a CASSETTE. Gawd!” 😂

Indeed. And what a cassette it was!

The tape is rolling, everybody. It’s rolling out every day of our lives, and eventually we will reach the end of our A-side, then we reach the end of our B-side—and it will be time to move onto another format, entirely.

We are works of art, each one of us. And evolution is the nature of art anyway, right?

Posted in Psychic Phenomenon | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Will the Real Jesus Please Stand Up?

Posted on February 9, 2024 by danielleegnew

I have to say something. This is an epic-longer read. But it has to be said. At least, for me.

I have to. In my heart, in my soul.

I hope those who choose to read, can read it with their hearts, not their eyes.

It’s time our hearts start leading. It’s past time.

This isn’t a post about spirituality. This isn’t a post about religion. It’s not even a post about belief, or mindset.

It’s a post about identity theft, and hypocrisy.

It’s about setting the record straight. And having a hard conversation, for some.

I can no longer just sit here quietly, with what I’ve studied the past 30 years, and know in my heart, and what I’ve personally experienced, and say nothing on this issue.

Just like I wouldn’t remain silent if someone fostered an untrue identity about anyone in my family—saying nothing, at this point, at least for me, makes me complicit.

And I won’t be complicit in this, silent on this because I’m wary of someone misinterpreting what I’m saying; as my silence further allows an agenda-driven group of people to continue to take the works and words and identity of one of the world’s greatest teachers, psychics, transcendent healers, peace-activists, and love-culture-leaders—and turn this person into the point of their spear, poisoned with the thick tar from their own wide-eyed fear.

It saddens and sickens me to the core, what many Christian denominations have done, with the identity of “Jesus”.

They’ve turned this middle-eastern Jewish Rabbi, this expressive, charismatic, kind, dark-haired, fully bearded, strongly-open-hearted extremely radical and brave activist earth emissary for a boundless Mystical Creator God—into a stoic, white, blonde, rule-toting, expressionless and emotionless sociopathic false-Justice hammer. And the world is the nail.

This is not Jesus.

Hear me.

THAT IS NOT JESUS.

That dogmatic fist in the face? That red-white-and-blue-Christ?

That is not Jesus.

That is a false god forged in the image of its makers’ insecurity, fear, and need for dominance.

That false god is a banner for faux piousness, a double-sided razor-sharp righteousness—the face and false authority for spine-tingling and exhilarating judgement.

That false god, who some are using as their (mis)guiding light for heinous acts of violence, oppression, and exclusion—

That is not Jesus.

That god? That god is the definition of the Great Deceiver, the Morning Star itself—Lucifer. Who in the times of “the end” empowers a false prophet to be seen as Christ, or “sent by Christ”.

That god is created in the image of the weak who rule others through fear and exclusion—all things that Jesus preached against.

Jesus taught what he taught in spite of the fact that it was illegal by the Jewish religious standards.

He did it anyway. Because it was revolutionary, His message: JUST LOVE AND BELIEVE.

Believe in yourself.

Believe in your neighbor.

Believe in Him, not as “a god”, but that he was here to help—not harm.

Believe in your God.

Jesus used the term “your God” quite often. He didn’t say “God of the Jews”. He said “Holy Father in Heaven.” Or “Your Heavenly Father”.

Your Heavenly Father, whomever that may be. For some, she’s a goddess.

Jesus wasn’t peddling a religious franchise.

He was teaching spiritual and emotional freedom.

Jesus wasn’t trying to convert people to his belief system. He was working to help people liberate themselves from their own limiting beliefs.

Jesus didn’t say “worship me”. He never, ever wanted to be worshipped. “Follow me”, yes. “Worship me”, no.

He always pointed the way to God. He’d say “Give the glory to your Father in heaven.”

Jesus spoke his teachings to everybody. Not just Jewish folks, which made the Sanhedrin (Jewish religious power of the day) furious.

Jesus taught miracles and spiritual physics to Gentiles (anybody who is not a Jewish person), and for a Jewish Rabbi to be teaching Gentiles back then, well—

Flat out, that was against Jewish law.

Yet he did it anyway.

It made him the #1 political enemy of the Jewish state at the time.

Jesus was an activist. He preached free love and forgiveness from a benevolent creator God, for all people.

This message wildly disturbed the Sanhedrin, whose beliefs were rooted in following 613 Jewish commandments (the first 10 of those most of us know as “The Ten “Commandments.”)

Jesus didn’t say to blow any of those 613 rules off. He just said that loving our neighbor, and loving God above all things, would do the trick in terms of pleasing God and getting into the kingdom of heaven, if one was looking to simplify.

Jesus brought this message of social, spiritual, cultural and emotional liberation to everyone. All people. Not just “converted, saved Christians”.

To ALL people. Conservatives, liberals, Jews, Gentiles, LGBTQI, heterosexual, nonsexual, biodiverse—all skin colors, all beliefs—

EVERYONE.

This lesson of loving everyone—loving each other, your enemy, loving God—this didn’t lessen the sanctity and holy words of Judaism. It didn’t lessen the belief in Apollo or Zeus.

It was a foundational proclamation that with LOVE, we were all connected. And that He was the truth (of love, without the hypocrisy or dogma or theocracy), the light (of the world, lighting a new way in the world), and the way (to becoming something greater than ourselves, if we’d just have some faith in ourselves and God.)

FYI, the New Testament was written in high Greek, a documentarian or legalist’s language, whose nuances are almost culturally lost in 2024. In the statement “I am the truth, the light, and the way”, the word “way”, in high Greek, means “modality / modality of route.”

So it makes more functional sense to say “I am the (embodiment of) truth, the light, and the modality.” In other words, DO WHAT I DO, to access miracles, happiness, self-forgiveness-all of it.

Not “convert to being a Christian for Jesus to save you”.

Christianity didn’t officially hit the scene for another 100 years after Jesus’ death. Then certain Christians were so passively obnoxious about the power of the one God, Rome rounded them up and mocked their faith by feeding them to lions in the coliseum to see if their God would save them.

Hubris never pays off.

Jesus was a walking-talking visual aid to show us all down here what is possible. He was a Divine Being but he was stuck in a human body, with all its limits—as everyone is subject to the same physics down here. So if he could do it—Loaves to fishes, raising the dead, healing the sick, walking on water—so could we.

Jesus told his students that all of us would go on to do whatever he has done, and greater.

This Jesus, this walking human manifestation of God (which we all are to an extent) told us that we’d go on to perform bigger and better signs and miracles than he ever did.

He believed in humanity. Way more than we believe in ourselves.

Women ran the business end of Jesus’ ministry. They also ministered. Women played intricate roles in raising funds and nurturing his students (disciples) when coming home from the road. Women were a huge part Jesus’ work.

Jesus never discriminated. This was a mind-bending feat at the time, in a society of social heirarchies.

So when I hear people slam on Jesus because they can’t stand this or that short-sighted Christian franchise that’s pushing a discrimination message wearing His fake, white, stoic face—I just want to scream, “Do you even know what Jesus is?”

Because Jesus, the Divine Son of God (as we are all children of God) would be so horrified at what folks have done in His name. I have it on very good authority that Jesus is more than a little disgusted with folks weaponizing His words and His name.

Jesus doesn’t want us to be blind followers. He picked people with brains and drive and difficult personalities to be his disciples. He wants us to be brave enough ask why and how— two questions that bring solutions to problems.

And He wants us to be extra brave to have compassion for those who hate us, because they hate themselves more.

This is the awesome, butt-kicking, crap-starting hippie-enemy of the political state Jesus that moves through the fabric of each one of us if we let it—It moves through of me, when I do healing work, or give darker entities the boot in a house, or when I am able to listen in a way that’s meaningful to someone.

It’s that universal energy that flows through all of us, that is love and power and acceptance. God energy. Goddess energy.

Jesus isn’t demanding I become Jewish in my religion to adhere to His teachings about love and miracles. Neither would He demand anyone become anything other than who they are and what they believe—to be able to acknowledge what He is, and what a powerful spiritual ally He is, for everybody—even folks who think He’s a myth or faerie Tale.

The Sanhedrin sure thought he was some blasphemous, fame-seeking nut who memorized the Torah and claimed to be the Messiah just as the old stories claimed.

It’s not important anyone “believe in Jesus” for this Being to exist. It just does. It just has this power. It/He highly encourages people to believe in their own ability to believe in something outside of ourselves.

For me, Jesus the Christed Being is real. I’ve seen Him, I’ve felt him, I’ve called out to him in prayers of healing for others and myself—and He picked up the other end of the phone. And he’s not the weird, white stoic asshat on a throne.

He’s appeared to me like this scruffy, slightly dirty dude you’d meet at Burning Man who is giving everybody Day Old Bagels, then pulling his acoustic guitar off his back and singing a parable that blows up the room with love.

He might appear to you as a woman. Or an animal. Or a tree.

But that Christed Jesus? He’s as wild and untamed and fierce and loving as a JRR Tolkien dragon character. And He (It) doesn’t care what religion you are, or if you even have one. Because He/ It is the ambassador for LOVE.

Am I a Christian? By today’s definition—no. I’m not.

I’m a student of the Christed Jesus’ teachings and modalities. I also believe the Buddhas brought important wisdom. I believe the ancient Hindu Gods brought important wisdom and teachings from even other realms and planets. And who knows, maybe this Christed Jesus whom I’ve come to know so well, has also been a Buddha and a Hindi God along the way.

Love is love, and peace is peace.

Yet for me? Jesus is my Spirit Guy. He’s my sweet, powerful, benevolent buddy, who knows what it’s like to be human. And He doesn’t think lesser-than of me for it—because he’s been here. He gets it.

He knows what it’s like to be judged and thought of as an outcast and “lesser than” by those “more holy”.

I sure appreciate (and it breaks my heart) that this wonderful Being relentlessly held a space for, and was persecuted and killed for—spreading unconditional love to ALL people; to me, that’s a solid God-move.

This Jesus-Energy (not the “white Christian Jesus”) is palpable to me. I can sense it, and feel this Being. He’s real. He’s just not identifiable by many of today’s militant standards.

So that’s 100% fair if Jesus isn’t your thing. But next time you wanna slag on Him/It, ask yourself: “Do I actually know this Being? Or am I unhappy with the people who jacked his identity and made him into a monster?”

Because my guess is—it’s the latter.

Posted in Messages for our times, spiritual lessons | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Announcing the launch my Rocky Mountain Academy of Energetic Arts!

Posted on January 22, 2024 by danielleegnew
RMAEA.com

I’m SOOOO SO excited (and a little nervous!) to announce an endeavor I’ve been working on since 2016!! Eight years in the planning, you guys—8!!😳😄

ANNOUNCING the LAUNCH of Rocky Mountain Academy of Energetic Arts, an online learning institution!!!

RMAEA has been a long-time brainchild and heart child of mine, and finally, the stars aligned to make it happen. (Read that as “I finally crossed all the t’s and dotted the i’s”.)

Many of you have asked me, for years, if I’d teach classes, live, online. The answer is, OF COURSE!!

I’ve finally developed the right format, to offer certification classes in Psychic Development, ET History and UFO identification, Tonal Healing, Herbalism, Energetic Healing (Reiki, other modalities), Angelic Studies, Spirit Communication, and more.

I’ll be joined be a small pool of instructors as we launch, so please welcome Melissa Scianna, heading up Earth Disciplines, and Holly Shawver heading up Body Disciples. I’ll be heading up the Extrasensory Disciplines 👍

My first class I’m offering is “Psychic Development: The Empathic Gift”, running from March 6-27th!

In this four-week online class (1 hour a week), you’ll learn how to THRIVE with this most-powerful Spiritual Gift through PDF materials I’ll be preparing, as well as group exercises! Join me on Zoom those Wednesdays at 6PM PT/ 7pm MT / 8pm CT / 9pm ET and transform this Empathic gift into your ALLY, not your burden! Whoo hoo!!! (Only 25 slots open for this online class, to preserve the integrity of group exercises.)

Four-week tuition is only $288 (less than the price of an hour reading with me!) and includes all digital materials. Those who complete all four classes will receive a certificate of completion in “Psychic Development: The Empathic Gift” from RMAEA.

All classes will offer Certificates of Completion through the Academy.

THANK YOU for being part of my incredible journey this far. I can’t WAIT to include you in the Academy!!

Look for classes online and read about our instructors here:

https://www.rmaea.com

Posted in Identifying Energies, Spirituality in Media | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The 2023 Solstice Message: Float, Don’t Fall

Posted on December 21, 2023 by danielleegnew

Happy Winter Solatice to you! This year, it’s a powerful one. I spoke about its importance to our spiritual journey during my last Global Channeling Forum. There are HUGE energies bubbling and brewing, billowing clouds packed in probabilities of genius in the year to come.

This is the transition time for the next chapter in our life paths.

In the world to come.

It’s a powerful time, a time when all the energies that have built up over 2023 begin to dissolve into the ether of light, overcoming darkness; between letting go of the old and making space for the next most brilliance imaginance of the application of our whole selves into our lives and into the world.

The ancient peoples who followed the rhythm of nature knew this day as the darkest day of the year, yet they didn’t dwell on the weight of the darkness. They did not gnash their teeth and shake their fists at the cloak of blackness that surrounded them mid afternoon. They instead took to lit oil lamps and torches and fire pits, and used nature’s darkest day to illustrate the power of light, creating glowing, warm beacons of hope.

Because this is the innate nature of humanity—to always seek the light.

Take some time today to feel these energies. We no longer take the time to “steep” in the energies around us, past the stewing of our own minds over minutia that seems catastrophic, like politics, work issues, and the most mundane fixation of all—money. We tell ourselves that we MUST observe these things in a hyper-vigilant way, to stay safe.

Yet it’s nothing more than a form of mental busy-ness we create that imitates true oneness with our surroundings; we frenetically hyper-fixate on all the wrong things, and call ourselves a champion of focus.

We become the blinding darkness we fear so much.

Yet today, the 21st of December, the energies ring in a timeframe of exquisite miracles this year. Be ready to accept them. When we observe darkness in 2024, bring the oil lamps, the fire pits, the gatherings. Bring the light.

Today marks the balance point on a scale between our own choices. In our modern American society, there is much focus put on “good” and “bad”, “wrong” and “right”, great polarities where the bridges between each learning modality simply do not exist. And though there are certainly energies that are destructive, and are not in our own (or society’s) highest interest, this polarized way of viewing the world is not longer functional.

For instance, most can agree that stealing is “wrong”. Most can agree that letting one’s children starve is “wrong”. However, if a child’s parent steals food to feed their children, what then what of the polarity? What then of the zero-sum-total game?

Dec. 21st asks us to use the darkness to create glowing palates of light. To embrace the possibility of illumination within ourselves and within our life path. The specific energies to Dec. 21st, 2023, are palpable today, clean and clear today, full of brimming yet soothing excitement for what’s to come.

Feeling a little extra-stressed, up until today? There’s an actual reason, according to physics:

Like a raging river corralled by a canyon, ALL world energies have been squeezed into the most tight canyon wall turn. Just like water, billions upon billions of cubic tons of energetic pressure are currently smashed into this tiny exit point in the timeline, like a firehose being capped by a funnel. The subsequent “water-pressure” is so intense it could cut a pipe in two.

We feel this build-up of pressure.

Yet on Dec. 22nd, these wildly powerful and uncomfortably pinched energies blast through this extra-tight canyon, dramatically exploding into free space as an ecstatic waterfall, floating free and taking air for hundreds of feet, as the sun makes bright gold each and every bead of water, glowing with new-found-freedom and hope for even more flow.

So don’t despair today. Understand that today we are rafting through the tightest place in that canyon pressure point, the high canyon walls creating a cold and shady darkness below, our headlamps illuminating a blinding spray of water, as we can no longer paddle the raft in the monstrous torrent of raging current that is billions of times stronger than we are.

Our job is simply to hang on to one another, and let our headlamps glow, and know that there is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, only one way out.

Yet unlike the past, where erupting in a raft over a waterfall means plummeting to one’s doom at the bottom, this is a new timeframe.

This awareness of the new physics is the very point of this year’s solstice; something else besides doom will happen this year.

Instead of the heavy-gravity plummet, our raft, too, takes to the air, just like those liberated beads of water now floating like fireballs in the sunshine. We float gently down, the sunshine on our faces, enjoying for a brief moment a stunning view in front of us, a vista that can only be seen from a vantage point of traversing our own worst personal fears, and great sacrifice.

Not many take the moment to see this breath-stealing view. Many will have their eyes clenched closed, clutching the raft for dear life, too fearful to open their eyes and realize that they are not falling, but floating downward.

Because on this side of the canyon, the physics are different.

This is the year to float, not fall. Let your being expand into the brilliant light around you. It is not about “succeeding”. It is about letting what we call “succes” have enough space around us to expand into us, and sweep us along with it; an unstoppable current.

Many in the raft with us will still be in deep fear, clenching the side of the boat, convinced they’re going to die. We cannot bring another perspective other than “fear and death” to these folks. This is their experiential choice.

Be kind to them, in their fear. Do not berate them because they won’t open their eyes. Do not take a toothpick to their eyelids. Simply pet their back, to let them know they’re not alone.

Because unlike you, they’re missing the view, and the experience of flying. With their eyes clenched shut, they’re blind to the experience of transformation.

So know that the pressures you’ve been feeling this past year may be felt today as exponentially tight, if perceived that way. OR, today will feel like a rush of great power, barreling its way to an inevitable freedom.

The definition is simply in how we process the transformation.

Bless you, today and everyday. May you accept your greatest adventure that we are all moments from being thrust into. May you do so without fear, without clenching your eyes shut as to create a familiar darkness, but instead, opening your eyes wide to the sun, to experience the miracle of flying, instead of falling; to feel the weightlessness in the light.

Happy winter solstice, my beautiful human family. You are all miracles. You are all so very precious.

May we all wrap ourselves in the warmth and safety of the early sunset tonight, to celebrate the POWER of a single candle in the darkness. Look how it lights an entire room. One flickering wick creating such warmth, and such magnetism and illumination, from such a tiny source.

Now. Imagine what the light in YOU will do.

Steep in love. It is your birthright.

—Danielle x x

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It’s a Demon! Or…is it?

Posted on November 2, 2023 by danielleegnew
“Coronation of the Virgin & Saints”
(Cenni di Francesco di Ser Cenni, ca. 1390, tempera on panel)

This Halloween, I noted that our Samhain was peppered with folks reporting being pushed, scratched, shoved across a room—all sorts of Halloween-ie things. This spirit activity is not unusual during this time of year when our ethers (the “barriers” between dimensions) becomes thin. Our ancient peoples knew of this thinning, and celebrated the time of year when all spiritual beings came forward and mysteriously went “bump” in the night.

Thanks to understandings through science, we now are able to recognize a geophysical reason for our ethers thinning. It’s far less mystical, and far more practical, though the geophysical phenomenon lends itself to some pretty mystical experiences. It works like this:

In October, the northern hemisphere begins to tilt significantly away from the sun. As this occurs, the magnetic “tug” on our ionosphere (the high-up layer of atmosphere and plasma that we bounce our broadcast signals off of) is “stretched”. There’s a lot of energy up there, and that energy feeds off of the geomagnetism created by a spinning core in our planet. The resulting effect is to temporarily “widen” spots in the electromagnetic field of the planet—or, in more metaphysical terms, to open up what many call portals, or vortexes, that connect our dimension with other dimensions. This generally happens anywhere from a week before to a week after what we call Halloween. This year, the furthest widening happened exactly on October 31st.

Again, there is very little distinction between what we label as science, and what we recognize as metaphysics. It’s all connected.

When these ethers thin, it’s easier for our disembodied neighbors to slip through and say “howdy”, because not only are the doorways widened for them to come and go, yet there is less electromagnetic resistance in the earth’s atmosphere, as much of it is also “leaked” out of these big dimensional portals. So pretty much, for a spirit, it’s like getting a chance to swim with the current, instead of against it—it’s just easier to get around.

Spirits will say howdy by slamming doors, opening cupboards, giving a person a light tap, or sometimes making noises in a home. However, former humans aren’t the only beings that find it easier to get around these wider-open doorways. Our Elemental Beings (God’s “middle-management” here on earth, who take care of nature) are also able to slip through these doorways with far less resistance. And Elementals aren’t nearly as hospitable as our former human friends.

Why? Because living human beings are far less hospitable to the earth. It’s kind of a cause and effect scenario. Elementals are ancient, and have very long life-cycles. They aren’t paying attention to which family is living in which house in which subdivision that went up on 1950. For them, seventy years is like 10 minutes. All they know is that they have an infestation of self-involved mindless beings scurrying about the surface of the planet, pouring concrete to seal in life and fertile soil which is craving sunshine, laying in iron pipes that disrupt ley line energy flow, creating culverts a choking out creeks which help move energy to plants and to rocks and trees—all our Elemental brothers and sisters recognize is that humans are a destructive blight, blind to the planet around us, greatly disrupting the vital resources the planet requires to operate in balance.

They’re not wrong.

In the same way that a human mother would do anything to make sure that some random person wasn’t breaking into their child’s bedroom at night to stop the blood flow to a child’s limb with a tourniquet—our Elemental brother and sisters are frantically trying to restore “blood flow” to the earth. And sometimes, this comes off pretty scary to the blight of humans living above.

I encountered several folks this Halloween who had been shoved across the room by what they described as a powerful invisible being. Some claimed to be scratched, or bitten, or growled at. What all of these folks had in common was that they were living in areas where Elemental activity is high, because of former oil-dumping, burning—basically, nature abuses. The other item that all of these folks had in common was they believed these powerful beings to be demons. This is a common belief because nearly ALL of our TV shows, as well as many pastors and even spiritual workers, make claims of demonic life being common amongst us here on earth. This is simply not true.

It’s actually quite difficult for demonic life to navigate the earth, a plane of existence created by Light, and bathed in light. In fact, the Angelic realm refers to the earth as “The Great Mother”, or, the Mother Aspect of a God-Consciousness. So, even the angels see the earth as a divine planet.

So what’s pushing people around? What we call “ghosts” don’t have enough energy to shove people around. Not unless they’re towing something nasty along with them, that has more power than they do. Or, not unless they’re dwelling in an area whose geophysical features “boost” their one natural energy.

However, Elemental Beings are very powerful, and have more than enough juice to toss people around at will. 99.9% of the time, the “paranormal push” is an unhappy Elemental.

The urban myth is that demons have this kind of power, as well. Technically, they do, however, it takes many demons to have enough power in this third dimension to toss someone around. And it’s unlikely they’re going to put that much effort into harassing one individual, as the amount of energy they have to exert just isn’t justified by the freak-out of one person.

Can demons pop through this dimension and harass us? Yes. However, it is extremely rare, and this is important for folks to hear – demonic possession, or demonic oppression, is very rare, due to how fragile demons become in this environment of light. They’re more apt to stay on their side of the fence and whisper stupid suggestions to us, until we take them up on their rotten suggestions and act them out, ruining our own lives ourselves. (They’re demons. They’re not going to risk a lot of their own discomfort for a cause.)

Demons have to come through very specific opening in this light dimension, or they’ll be destroyed. They don’t have a death wish. Nothing living does. In very rare cases, demons will find a “weak spot” in the ethers, created by someone’s belief system—like a person opening a door for a vampire –perhaps a person who is already afraid of demons, from a deeply religious background, who is greatly suffering, whose consistently low vibration makes it easier for them to endure this love-saturated and light atmosphere, which to them is extremely toxic, acidic, and draining.

Or, once in a while, demons can pass through a rare dimensional or “etheric rip”, whose geomagnetic attributes match up with a lot of suffering that occurred in that same space, to perfectly fold space-time thus making an easier passage between the super-low-vibration place where demons reside (we like to weirdly call this “hell”), and our earth plane. Yet those demons can’t range out of the “pain protected” environment.

However, even if demons can defy the odds and are able to get on this side of the fence somehow, let’s say through a person, they really can’t leave the realm of that person, or they evaporate like mist on a sidewalk once the sun comes out. And if that person gets happy, or changes their mental state, that demonic life has a door slammed shut in their face. That’s why demons work so hard to isolate people they’re using as a doorway, or a battery pack, for their mischief.

I don’t want folks to read this and think that if they suffer from depression, or are having a bad day, they somehow are going to be targeted by demons for possession. That is absolutely not true. If that were true, every human on this earth would cease to exist and it would be a live hell-party. It takes A LOT of work for multiple demons to hold a space on earth, through a person, or a place. I mean, A LOT. So there have to be a perfect storm of outlying factors that are just right, for this to occur for awhile. Demons can’t live on this side of the fence forever.

The love, and the light on this planet and in this dimension, wears demons down. Contrary to popular shows like “Lucifer”, where we’ve personified this poor, misunderstood Satan with a quirky and lovable English accent—for actual demonic life, earth is a remarkably uncomfy place. The only reason they pop in once in awhile on earth, or mostly hang out in the ethers, is to eat our pain. That’s their food source. Like tilapia eating bass poo off the bottom of the lake, demonic like scarfs down our off-gassed suffering, our worry, our discontent, like a messed-up Golden Corral of misery.

(Mind-boggle break: The All, or God made EVERYTHING. Including demons. Everything has a purpose. We don’t always need to interact with that purpose. Sharks eat garbage out of the oceans. I don’t really want to interact with a shark while it’s enacting it’s purpose.)

Thanks to a lot of really bizarre fear-based fan-fiction put out by mostly Christian religious institutions everywhere over thousands of years, now picked up by desperate TV producers and Hollywood movies and spiritualists looking to make a buck off of peoples fear, and even more desperate pastors who wish to scare people into clinging onto Jesus like some weird default against the THREAT OF THE MIGHTY POWER OF SATAN (really? That gives all the power to evil–that’s a “Christian church”? Hmmmm….) there’s a widely-held belief that demonic life is just wandering around every corner, ready to pounce on unsuspecting humans.

Because of this lack of education and sensationalizing, people think that if they’re thrown across a room—it’s always “a demon”.

That’s not true.

Yes, demons are real. No, they are not all-powerful here on earth. Or really, in any light-based dimension. Though pesty, they’re pretty fragile, actually, within the vibration of love. But they put up a great poker bluff, and scare the crap out of folks in the meantime.

Yes, demons like to torment folks who are already tormenting themselves. (That’s the key for them—we have to start hating on ourself first—this is their invitation). No, they are not tormenting everybody, and they require a LOT of perfect environmental attributes to hang out for long durations of time on the planet earth.

Yes, demonic possession is real. NO, IT IS NOT COMMON. Please hear this. Once again, demons need a very specific set of ingredients, both environmentally, and spiritually within a person, to even be able to consider this option. And it always takes several of them to get enough juice to try and inhabit a flesh suit and push a human soul to the side, anyway. It’s a LOT of work for them, and the payoff energetically for them is pretty low.

Yes, demonic oppression (having demons hanging out in a space and dragging down the vibe and affecting a person’s behavior) is real. No, it is not the same thing a suffering with depression, having a bad day, brain chemistry slumps due to low thyroid, menopause, disease, abuse, or any other outside influence that would disturb our piece of mind. Not everything bad that happens is a demon. People are continuously making rotten choices and hurting others, all on their own.

Yes, demonic influence is real. (That’s when someone is continuously being fed awful advice by the little “devil on their shoulder” that will compromise the well-being of many, and makes them feel very powerful and invincible in the moment.) NO, not every asshat, dictator, and sociopathic serial-killer-nightmare human is under demonic influence. Most just had really harmful environments as children.

Yes, demonic torment is real (getting shoved, scratched, et al) NO, IT IS NOT COMMON. Again, please read the paragraphs about how difficult the earth is, to navigate, for demonic life.

And under the demonic torment category, I’d like to point out that if a person experiences a one-off shove during the thin-ether Halloween period, the chances of that shove coming from a demon are far, far less than zero.

Demons won’t bother to come by to scare a person once. They are stalkers, and want the biggest bang for their buck in terms of long-term torment, as again, I can’t stress enough how difficult it is for demons to exist on this earth plane—even in thin ethers. If a person is shoved once, or scared once, the guilty party is likely going to be a pissed-off-Elemental, who is freaking out because it can’t tell humans apart very well (neither can people tell apart viruses—we just know they’re making us sick) and the Elemental is trying to wake us up to the fact that we’ve put a “tourniquet” on the blood flow of the earth. With thinner ethers, it can give us a punky “shove”, to say “Hey! Do something about this trash that’s choking up your Great Mother, you thumb-wielding stink-monkey!”

Planting more trees in a yard, or putting in plants, and burying certain stones and sage, shows Elemental beings that we’re trying to restore nature. They’re most likely to be more aggressive in areas where we have dumped garbage, oil, and have disrupted water sources. I’ve noted that some of the most “haunted” places around my hometown of Billings, Montana are areas where the refineries dumped oil, years and years ago—Lockwood, Laurel, Huntley (by the river)—watch for pollution, and you’ll find really, really mad Elemental Beings.

Once in a while, a person will experience a rare ghostly shove, yet that spirit must depend on incredibly thin ethers to achieve this. Usually those thinning ethers are not only created by the Halloween phenomenon, but geophysical features that can keep a “haunting doorway” open in the ground below a home or space.

It’s VERY important to recognize that the more we fear demonic life, the more we open a doorway up for that life actually come in a spend some time with us. True Evil depends on our fear to gain strength in this dimension. Some churches depend on their congregations being paralytically fearful of demons to keep people coming back and putting money in their plates—thus “buying” safety from “evil”. In my observation, especially as a former pastor in the Christian faith—this practice itself is the epitome of evil.

Yes, demons waiting for us to be miserable, and to stay in misery for a long time, so they can eat that on misery while safely on the other side of their fence. (Emotionality turns in to an energy wave that can cross dimensions. I’ve got a lot more to say about that, and how humanity is affecting other multiverses right now with our over 8 billion emotional processors known as humans wandering about this spinning-electromagnet-called-earth–but for now, we need to stick to this issue.) And yes, if a person has a very rare encounter with the “perfect storm” of geomagnetic and spiritual attributes to create an unbelievably rare “doorway to hell” in a location, so to speak — demons can be a pain to get rid of, like dog poo tracked onto a shag carpet. It takes a minute to get out, but you can get it out, even though the stick may remain for a while.

So. If you’re someone who was raised to “fear the devil” – don’t. Demons are a pain, but they’re not actually “after us”, as religion would teach us. They’re just eating pain. If you want to be afraid of them, that’s an energetic choice, as we create pain inside of ourselves with them at the center, and then it’s an easier stair step for them to stand outside your emotional house and throw emotional eggs on your emotional windows. But why do that?

Evil is real. Demons are real. Love is real. Angels are real. Evil and demons are a weaker energy in this incarnation. Love and angelic life are the dominant energy. People can “act evil”, yet there is a difference between acting in a way in which we label the behavior as “evil”—and ACTUAL evil. People certainly can channel actual evil. However that’s far more subtle, and affects far, far more people at one time. Much of what we call “evil” is simply humans acting out of pain. Because these actions are so horrid and grievous, they surely seem evil to us, as a species based upon the base code of love.

If you truly believe you have a demonic infestation, or an actual demon problem, and you’re having difficulty dealing with it (keeping in mind that starving them out and ignoring them and loving a lot, and calling in Light/God in the face of their occupation, usually does the trick—but sometimes that’s hard if you’re getting tossed around a bedroom), then the folks who are best-suited to assist you are folks who are part of your same belief system: Imams for Muslim folks, Medicine carriers for Native Folks (though honestly I’ve yet to see a native person plagued by demons in the same way that white people fall into that narrative), Catholic Fathers for Christians—the Catholic faith is very mystical and has specialized in this type of phenomenon a long time, and outside of the Jedi, have a great grasp on how not to get tricked up or punked by these most pesty and very rare intruders.

Stick to the folks who speaks your language Because it must be YOU, who becomes unafraid. Again—we are the ones that invite the vampire to dinner, sometimes without even knowing it.

But before you go calling the church – realize that demonic interaction is, again, incredibly rare, and mostly something TV shows, slick-haired preachers, and some spiritualists really lean on, because it’s a quick answer to the deeper issues that plague us, as complicated humans.

Instead, plant a tree. Talk to the earth. Tell the Elemtnals you’re sorry that people are idiots, and you’ll do better while you’re a temporary steward of that property. Bury some tobacco and some sage. Have a firepit in your back yard. Connect with the elements, all of God’s expressions. Acknowledge the earth as part of the God body—because She is. Bring love and music and LIGHT into your home. Show great gratitude for God/Universe. Talk to God/Universe. Rejoice in little things with God/Universe. Thank God/Universe. Experience joy over the tiniest little things.

And mostly—let’s try not to hit the panic button when we encounter something we don’t understand. If we go to DefCon 4, and claim “demon infestation”–so will Darkness. If we BELIEVE we have demons in our house, they’re happy to oblige us. But that’s on us. Not them. They’re just doing what they do. Just like swimming in the ocean—we can’t always avoid a cut on the coral. Yet it’s our choice whether we choose to bleed into the water, or not.

The shark will respond, either way.

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Hamas, Israel, and Putin’s long shadow

Posted on October 16, 2023 by danielleegnew

Hamas and Israel.

Terrorists backed by Russia and Iran, and Israel, allied with the USA.

I’m up at 3:38am as a tidal wave of information crashes in from the ethers about this conflict. I’m tumbled in its churn, the flotsam and jetsam of mass death, fear, and uncertainty.

From the froth, I’m straining out clear pieces of information. Like the fact that this horror was far beyond a terrorist organization like Hamas’ reach. With multi-flanked assaults from the air, the sea, on land, and in the cyber world, this coordinated attack rings more true to a full-scale Russian ransack.

Of course, there’s no evidence of Russian involvement in this attack. There rarely is, globally (outside of Ukraine.) There’s just the matching carnage.

Yet I’m struck, looking into the ethers tonight, by the fact that if this conflict persists, and if the USA steps in to assist Israel, then Russia benefits, as no doubt some of the military aid we’re lending to Ukraine will be diverted elsewhere.

I have said for years and years that Putin is a long-gamer, a chess-player, a Moriarty who can’t seem to find his Sherlock, turning over country after country in his sociopathic boredom.

I’ve felt for a very long time that Putin is deathly ill (if he’s not dead already, and that’s being covered up by the Kremlin). His mind, his choices, aren’t what they used to be.

I watch his war with Ukraine bankrupt his beloved mother Russia. I watch the Russian people suffer beneath his Moriarty complex. I watch Ukraine torn to bits, just so he can leave an anti-west legacy behind in his failing years; an old lion pinned beneath an avalanche caused by an evolving planet, whose teeth are now broken from a battle with the never-ending mountain.

Putin.

Hamas is responsible for initiating this carnage. Yet the complex execution of the modality has Russia sprinkled all over it.

Putin has been furious with the USA’s back-door approach to assisting Ukraine. The passive-aggressive post-cold-war dance between Russia and the USA, where both they and we act like we’re not taking the actions we’re taking, lends itself to an awkward boiling point.

Russia is losing the war they started with Ukraine. They have been for a long time. Russia hired a private army, which turned on Putin, and whose leader miraculously ended up dead by a classic Kremlin “random banana-peel-slipping” incident. Whether it’s a plane crash, falling out a window, or “accidental” poisoning—Putin removed those who fall short of his expectations.

I’m 2016, Hillary Rodham Clinton scared the dickens out of Putin by running for POTUS. She had 30 years of dirt on him and planned on slamming his junk in the door of sanctions once she was elected. Putin knew this, and Russia made sure to jump in and mess with not only our first official wave of fake news, yet multiple documented cyber voting machine issues as well. In fact, in 2014, Obama’s administration warned of potential election interference by Russia in the next election.

Miraculously, as if the finger of god moved all obstacles (in the shape of Putin), the long-shot candidate Donald J. Trump won several key electoral college states by exactly 2% over the exit polls, in those very same states claiming voting machine issues, and though Hillary won the popular vote—she lost the electoral college, and America swore-in Trump.

Who, of course, went on to sing his greatest hits that included the ironic pop ballad “Election Interference”, the rocker “Drain the Swamp”, and his only punk song, “Lock Her Up”, a tune that ended up being self-predictive.

Trump, a former Democrat of 30-years turned Republican for the 2017 race, was a big former Bill Clinton campaign contributor. And, a very close friend and business associate of Vladimir Putin. Putin knew Trump’s ins and outs. He wasn’t scary, like Hillary, who even scared Democratic voters. Trump was a predictable, therefore controllable, ally.

In Putin’s mind, Trump was supposed to destabilize America more than he did. If you can believe that. The purpose of a destabilized America that turns a blind eye to Putin’s Moriarty complex is that Putin could then annex Ukraine like a subdivision—and own the wheat fields that feed them all, including Europe.

Yet the USA has a pesky way of being it’s Ted Lasso self in the world, and in spite of mind-numbing inner conflict and flirting with our own civil war, has belly-flopped out of utter destabilization and into a reality-show holding pattern starring Marjorie Taylor Greene, AOC, Lauren Boebert and Nancy Pelosi, entitled “As the Crap Show Churns”.

This didn’t serve the purpose Putin had hoped for. He wanted American Armageddon. He got the re-boot of “Dynasty”.

In the meantime, hundreds of thousands of Russian and Ukraine soldiers and citizens have died. Russia has committed heinous war crimes in Ukraine, and goes unpunished, as the result would be a war that divided the planet. Putin’s Mother Russia has been financially starved by the world after sanctions, and has lived off its crypto, and sales of its low-grade tar sand oil to China.

As the USA pumps trillions of our military dollars into Ukraine, broke Russia is out of moves on the chess board. And the pride that has fallen in the Kremlin is a sharp reminder of how the Reagan administration bankrupted Russia in the 80’s, in the Cold War arms race. Russia kept up with the USA on manufacturing nuclear warheads. It just went bankrupt in the process. Which was the point of Reagan’s arms race.

So here I sit, at 4:43am, feeling into a dying (or already deceased? Maybe that’s theoretical…) Putin, who is staring into financial ruin for his country, out of moves on the board. Now what to do? Light a fire in the corner of the pub where the losing chess game is occurring. Break the focus.

Hamas. Attacking Israel. An ages-old war, strained by a heating global climate, blown into horrific and staggering proportions.

All eyes on the Middle East.

The world’s heart breaks once again.

People here in the USA may or may not understand that Putin has been trying to pull the USA into the boxing ring for years. Our government and intelligence agencies know this. Thus, we stay out of the ring. At least, officially. Not because we’re afraid. But because it’s a treacherous thing to get into a knife fight with someone else who is already wounded, and has nothing left to lose. It’s especially ridiculous to fight when you’re on top, and don’t need to.

Yet to look at the layers, in the ethers tonight (or this morning), it’s a devastating and nearly incomprehensible loss of human life, in its senselessness. All in the cause of religion, pride, and borders.

All in the grab for power, on a planet whose resources are dwindling, whose socioeconomic structure is collapsing, whose two biggest superpowers have been passive-aggressively swatting at each other since the 80’s because that’s easier to do than to acknowledge a planet that’s trying to boil us off the surface; we’re the virus, being burned out of the flesh of a fevered and worn-down earth.

Throw in two wars, and it’s a soul-wrenching and exhausting endurance. And real people, with real families and real lives, are dying. First, Ukrainians, then Russians. Then Israelis, then Palestinians.

Humans. Dads, moms, sons and daughters, families, pets, histories, architecture—all leveled.

All for ideologies. All for pride. All for religion and boundaries. For resources and principle.

We survived Covid—for this? The end does not justify the means.

Hamas and Israel. What an analogy for the spiritual, sociological and emotional lessons we’re witnessing: two ancient cultures, entwined in history and ancient family lineage, never able to resolve their wounds with one another.

This is the price of no closure—the forced eruption of timelines and lives, of cities and towns.

We who are only witness to these atrocities from afar, can pray for our world. We can send peaceful and loving energy through God/Universe, whose “heart” I can feel break over the in-fighting of It’s own creation.

There is such opportunity for so many miracles, here on earth. And what an equal opportunity for shocking horrors.

Vlad the Impaler. Adolf Hitler. Vlad Putin—all the same soul. Someone who specializes in crushing others, to exert their will.

What a soul path, to continually play the villain.

We all play a role in this world balance. Tonight, mine was to assemble a puzzle dumped upon my table by a jumbled world, a puzzle when assembled which may only calm my own mind, in the rising and falling tide of world events.

Yet my heart. Your heart. Our collective hearts—

they mourn.

Posted in Psychic Predictions and Backstory, Spirituality in Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Where is the joy in Joy?

Posted on September 14, 2023 by danielleegnew

Hey world, time to live in what’s really happening in your life. Not what you wish was happening. Not what you hoped would happen. Not what used to be happening. But what’s actually happening.

Celebrate what’s actually there before you. Grieve the loss of what is truly gone. Don’t take out on others your disappointment about life plans that didn’t pan out—that’s selfish. Those plans aren’t coming back.

Those moments aren’t coming back.

Yesterday isn’t coming back.

What we had isn’t coming back.

Who we once were—is never, ever coming “back”.

The word BACK means “back” for a reason.

We go forward, and forge something new and more developed and more streamlined out of what we’ve become.

Or we drown in the directionless resentment of a lost yesterday.

New emotional, physical and spiritual territory can be scary. It’s easier to try and reach for our past personalities, because these are the crutches and the behaviors we remember. Our past personalities relied on certain variables to be in place, for those personalities to be able to function: love, connection, passion, rage, anger, confrontation.

All habits to feed chemicals in our head; chemicals we mistake for spiritual fulfillment.

Yet if we are bound by outside variables to feel “peaceful”, to feel “safe”—we’ll not achieve these things anyway, as they are stations of the individual spirit.

To truly release discomfort, pain—to truly grow, we must let go—let go of trying to “restore” what was, no matter how “good” we recall it to be.

If in letting go, our personalities suffer the perceived loss of something that once was critical to that personality, then so be it.

There is freedom in seeing life for what it is, instead of the continual “frosting the stale cake”, which in this day and age—is remarkably exhausting.

What was, is not what is now.

And “now” is created by tiny choices we’ve made in the past.

Does your present life rock? Does it kinda suck? Outside of variables you have no control over, how has your steering of your own life path created the atmosphere you dwell in, day to day?

Is your habit to be chronically miserable and angry and jaded? Is your habit to neurotically seek happiness and to toxically apply positivity everywhere, in spite of the situation or how others feel?

Pick an imbalance.

Have you buried your head in the sand and just hoped outside variables would change themselves? In doing so, have you co-created a situation that’s now difficult?

Or, have you made tiny changes that have lead to amazing results?

Perhaps you’ve done both. We’re a country that celebrates extremes.

Though we have no control over what comes to us in life, we do have control over how we process it (unless there are chemical challenges in the brain. Then we seek outside help.)

As the meme says, sometimes you have to let go of the picture of what you thought it would be like, and learn to find joy in the story you are actually living.

That joy may or may not be acknowledged by others around you. It may not even be able to be shared with those you love, who may not be in a space to receive joy. Yet it’s up to us, whether we decide that lack of being able to connect that joy to others around us is “lonely”.

This is something I work on everyday.

Do I need to be able to share joy, in order to feel it? In order to validate its existence?

Or is feeling joy within myself, that cannot be shared with anyone else—enough?

I struggle with the latter, greatly. Mostlikely because I was raised around a LOT of joy, that was shared. That, to me, feels connected, and is my baseline for “normal”.

I’m learning it is not normal to most people.

And as I age, and those around me age, I see joy replaced with anxiousness; I fall into this, myself, at times. Yet I see in my peers contentment replaced with bitterness, joy replaced with “what’s going wrong”, opportunity replaced with negativity about opportunity, hopeful new paths replaced by jaded views—its a pattern.

Negativity in the USA is chronic. It’s a habit. And I find myself feeling more and more lonely on this planet, for the lack of those who will get out of their own misery for one moment—to connect with another in joy.

It’s like I have this cable I keep trying to plug in, full of so much love and goodness — and it goes nowhere. But at the end of the day, why is it important to me that it goes somewhere?

Why, if I’m feeling it, is it so dang important to share it?

What is so important about the sharing?

Does it validate my existence? Does it give me a personal “high”? Is it the design of love and joy, to be shared? All of the above?

So I sit with the joy myself, losing the ability to feel that joy in the midst of great shifts, questioning why I even have it, as I’m stunned by the masses that simply won’t receive it, confused by my almost compulsive need to share something that so many JUST don’t want, or are unable to interpret.

It turns my thoughts back on myself: what is wrong with ME, when the rest of the world seems to be fine, phoning-in life, planning IRA’s, paying bills, barely connecting with others outside of some quick sex with a partner then back to binge-watching Ted Lasso, collecting “likes” and “follows” to validate some sort of connection on this earth.

Sharing emotionally with another takes EFFORT, something I’m seeing replaced by many (especially in my age group) with great selfishness, a woe-is-me anger, a new form of giving to the self, or self-indulgence.

Perhaps that’s why we choose misery—it keeps us seperate from everyone and everything.

Misery is the perfect passive-aggressive way to quiet-quit life.

This is clearly my own problem to work on, this conundrum once summed up by Dr. George Berkeley, an Anglican Bishop and philosopher in the 1600s, who said:

“If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?”

Humanity hangs on this strange, lonely concept, subconsciously piqued by the thought of solitary demise. Yet most folks don’t know that Dr. Berkeley actually answered the great question himself.

According to George, the answer is that yes, the falling tree DID make a sound—because God heard it.

Good ol’ God, hanging around just out of this blast radius called human chaos.

So God must feel my joy. I just wish God could laugh, and share, and dork out, and snuggle up, and hang out and have cocktails.

Maybe God shares more than I’m able to feel down here on this rock, because I’m a resident of earth, the planet of chronic quiet-quitting life.

Clearly this is on me to figure out.

I’m personally looking forward to these six planetary retrogrades being over.

Posted in Psychic Phenomenon | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments