Descending and merging with my body at 3:45 AM DST, on this day many, many moons ago. I chose my parents and began a sacred agreement made with The Old Ones.
At the age of one I remember looking out from my crib into the kitchen, the sun brilliantly glinting a reflection of light from the stove oven handle.
At the age of five having the flu and trying to watch Saturday morning cartoons all while feeling like my brain was melting. I would say to myself, remember this feeling, because you need to remember what it feels like to be a child.
Having my teddy bear fall out of bed and saying ouch because I could physically feel it.
Being eight and given a shield symbol from Spirit to carry with me throughout this journey on Earth.
One evening, a few minutes after being put to bed and seeing a tall dark form materialize at the foot of my bed. Being so terrified with paralysis that I truly thought my heart would burst from my chest.
As a child, while my family slept, being woken up by whispering voices, then light forms descending from the ceiling to stand next to my bed.
Laying awake on my mother’s bed, with my sister beside me on a hot and stifling summer night after my Grandmother’s funeral; hearing screams of agony and asking my sister what was that? Her answer; nothing go to sleep.
Having a full year of experiencing a loud constant noise inside of my head, like a jet engine, with images of death and a barrage of negative thoughts. It was only when I planned to slit my wrists at 17 to make it stop and laid out the razor blade on my dressing table on a Friday night that the sound completely stopped Saturday morning when I opened my eyes.
Walking my beloved beaches of Cape Cod with a guitar slung over my back, Janis Joplin hair and smoking a cheroot.
Picketing the local supermarkets for selling non-union produce and marching for Civil Rights.
Seeing Bob Dylan in a little coffee house in Boston before anyone knew who he was.
Promising to become a great actor in junior high; I’ve since won an imaginary Oscar by portraying a wife in all my marriages and relationships.
Remembering more than most on how to get Home, turn invisible and conjure.
Letting people lie to my heart and playing the game anyway.
Valuing solitude as a prized treasure.
Learning how to fish and cast a proper line.
Blowing a kiss to my Sensei after performing a kata and watching him put his face in his hands in disbelief.
Refusing to dumb down in any situation.
Remembering a perfect afternoon on the North Shore of walking along a riverway and sitting on a stone wall listening to two men play their guitars.
Feeling my brain being operated on and re-wired to diminish fear.
Countless memories of sitting around family, holiday gatherings and my best friends homes and joyously thinking I will never forget this time.
Knowing that large boulders and rocks held Spirits within them and honouring the Stone People.
Having it rain on my face, without a cloud in the clear blue sky, upon discovering a medicine wheel in the woods.
Watching the Light appear in my children’s eyes when their true Spirits took residence in their bodies.
Observing all the intricacies of growing grandchildren and remembering what it was like to be a child.
Knowing my website posts only scratch the surface of my experiences.
Jone was wise beyond her years — yet often too sensitive for this world. With her immense inner strength she fought for her right to be herself, to choose her own pathway, and to come to grips with her fears, her abilities, and her unique outlook on this lifetime. As a healer — she helped many to recover from their illness or acknowledge their karma with an accepting calmness, as a teacher she imparted her ancient wisdom with a merry heart in order to raise the consciousness of so many students. Jone always saw the humor in our humanness, but she honored our innate spirituality. Jone knew we were all on a journey of evolution, of wonder and of love. Her own pathway had many magical moments — I remember when she found the Medicine Wheel in the woods behind her home — her spirit soared with a humble pride as she felt so honored to have been allowed to witness this treasure. I didn’t know Jone as a youngster or teenager, but met her in her early 20’s, and I could sense the immense power within her petite body. Never boastful or arrogant in her special abilities, she quietly went about her life’s work on a one-to-one basis most of the time. Her classes at a local high school were always eventful and each of us learned something about ourselves and about others of like mind. In many ways her joyous spirit remained childlike as she observed the world with her whimsical yet jaundiced eye. A true human-being — growing, evolving, curious, learning, loving unconditionally, believing in a better world. Jone loved her family and friends with a fierce and deep loyalty and love — and I believe that they returned the feelings ten-fold. Blessed be dear friend may your inimitable spirit be free. Happy Birthday!