Downloads from Dawn for 2013 and Beyond

Posts tagged ‘patriarchy’

Bruised, Black and Divine – A Vision Regarding the Feminine

I have been sitting with this vision from earlier in the week and listening to the image as it came to me.  It was simple and profound.  I do not fully understand it.  I welcome your responses as you listen to its message for you and these Times. 

At first I questioned what I was seeing.  Was this a child’s face made of fuchsia energy ?

Yes, it was a young girl who I realized had a black eye.  She appeared to have been hit in the left eye. Yet as I drew near, I saw the stars in that eye.  She held the Universe in her injured, blackened eye.  It was a portal to the Universe.

My first thought was how many girls through time have been beaten or gotten metaphorical black eyes for consulting the stars or being intuitive?  Then a thought crossed my mind:  In our wounds lie the stars. 

I knew I was also being shown how the Divine Feminine has been bruised, blackened and brutalized by the patriarchy, those in control and those out of control.  Yet this dear symbol of pure spirit, heart and mind holds the stars.  She holds the Universe.

Those of us today, men and women, who carry the Divine Feminine may be bruised and blackened, yet through Her eye, through our wounds we have access to the energetic resources and messages of the stars.

We have access to Divine Love.

We see everything through Divine Love.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse, 18 March 2014


The Elephant Said, “Let Fear Rise”

   Sometime ago an elephant crossed my mind. No, I’ve not suddenly become Republican. I was walking through my living room when I thought of Ganesh, the elephant god considered by Hindu’s to be the remover of obstacles. I’ve not become Hindu either.

Last Fall while in Sedona’s Andrea Smith Gallery celebrating Ganesh’s birthday with a golden iced cake, I saw and ate cake but also bought a scarf with elephant eyes peering through a leafy thicket. I was wearing that scarf when in a crystal clear moment Ganesh entered my mind accompanied by words, words that said:

“Of course, Fear has to rise. All the obstacles to Love have to rise if Love is going to shine its brightest here on Earth.”

Suddenly everything made sense. Fear and Love have danced together throughout the ages. If you listen only to the headlines, Fear seems to be taking the lead on America’s dance floor fueled by everything from last summer’s bedbugs, the recycled fear of socialism, immigrants and government shutdown, the ongoing fears of bad weather and aging as well as loosing jobs, erections and the right to carry guns. The fear of flu comes ‘round each winter and not long ago Homeland Security created announcements for Walmart telling customers to report suspicious behavior in parking lots or store aisles.

Fear plays on the surface as many dance. The players of the instruments (drug companies, agriBusiness, lobbyists, politicians and much of mainstream media) go about their business, some dancing to the bank, many of them unconsciously dancing in fear too.

“Fear has to rise. All the obstacles to Love have to rise if Love is going to shine its brightest here on Earth.”

This was the perfect message as I try to hold the big picture of these tumultuous times and the accompanying tension in my heart and mind. This grace-filled message reminds me that fear is not the problem. Fear is the signal that things are shifting. The paradigm of domination and separation that has for centuries prevailed in the world is loosing its grip.

The rising of Fear signals that Love is rising too. Love is rising in the dance not to conquer or win but to show up and shine, waking up in America and our world to a degree it has never shone prior.

Fear is signaling the potential for a new level of awareness in the dance. Fear signals that over time increased consciousness has laid the ground work for these Times. All those who have bravely loved and died are part of the foundation on which the collective heart of the world now rises.

This message helps me see the times through a wide angle lens, to see all the many unfolding stories as part of a larger story as we are given the choice to shift from sleepwalking to awareness, from thinking we are separate to realizing our connectedness, from dominating Earth to appreciating and living in relationship to the environment and nature.

While pondering this dance, I suddenly knew: Fear fears we will do to it what it has done throughout time. That we will demand it pay, make it suffer and cause it pain. That we will in turn try to conquer and control it. Fear does not trust that Love doesn’t keep score, make demands or seek revenge. This level of Love makes no demands.

Love holds space for Fear to be loved too, while loving the frightened, especially those who don’t even know they’re afraid.

Then comes the rub, the obstacles to love have to rise in me too. A personal obstacle of my own is the ‘how’ of holding these times. I must release the desire to control how others dance, the Roves, Palins and Bachmans of our country, and instead lovingly hold my own inner dance knowing it is connected to the world’s ball room.

This is part of the Mystery of these times as we shift each in our own way from sleepwalking and reactivity to greater awareness. As we wake up, Love wakes up.

Let those of us who are heart specialists invite and embrace fear so it is held in the vibration of loving compassion and understanding.

Imagine Fear, vulnerable Fear, welcomed and held in the gentle arms of Love, the Great Remover of Obstacles.

-Dawn! The Good News Muse,1 April 2013

first posted 14 April 2011

P.S. Synchronistic events and links often arrive when I’m working on a story. For example, when writing this I learned of Bridge Reynold’s Deity Arts, cards and prints of Bridgets works including Ganesh.

Then yesterday upon completing this Musing, I’m in camera shop where I see a woman I had first seen there just over a month prior. As I downloaded pictures, she came by to visit then gave me her postcard with of course an elephant on it !!! Alice is an adventurer whose site had dozens of photos of wildlife and people from around the world. Visit her site at:

The Dream of the Businessman

(I forget the title I chose for this blog includes dreams.  Fortunately events related to Monsanto this week reminded me of this particular dream which I’m resharing from another site of mine. It’s lengthy but feels crucial for these times. Sincerely, Dawn, The Good News Muse.)

One recent morning, I awoke sobbing. I had dreamed of the creek at my grandparents’ in the country, the creek that flowed past their home and through the field in which their cows grazed. In the dream, my nephews and I made our way through a labyrinth of spider webs and wooden boards to emerge on top of a small platform by the creek. I loved this creek. It was the place in my childhood, where tadpoles turned into frogs and crayfish hid among the pebbles. This was where I first saw stones imprinted with tiny fossilized swimming, crawling creatures from eons past. Buttercups grew along the bank in spring, the same bank where in summer my grandmother would spread a pallet, country speak for quilt, where we’d eat sugar and butter sandwiches on white bread, to us a real treat.

These fond memories relate to nature along the creek yet I awoke from my dream crying. I awoke crying because we emerged from the labyrinth to find the creek was now a swiftly flowing river.

With the contamination and disappearance of streams for a variety of reasons, to see a stream that was now a river should have been a good thing. But it wasn’t. The river had a wood chip mill built alongside it. Water from the river was used to supply power to the chipper as all things wooden – old chairs, tables and planks – were shredded. At one point the shell of a black truck from the 1930’s floated past as I watched horrified.

My father stood on the platform. It was his parents who had owned this land. I looked at him and with urgency said, “We’ve got to stop this. I’ll buy the land.”

With a profoundly sad look on his face, he told me regulations prevented this because once a mill was built on a stream the contract could not be reversed. I compassionately replied, “I know. I know. You did what you thought you had to do. You thought you had to sell the land to take care of the kids.”

I then entered a nearby board room where a businessman was releasing people, salt-of-the-earth people from this dear rural town, from their debts. This is at least how it initially appeared as the man outlined for each person the amount he could financially save them if they agreed to his terms. People were quite pleased he was there to help. I watched as they seemed asleep. In their trust they were blind as to how he was the one profiting from their predicament.

Then the man gave me a document, a piece of paper that held two things in writing granting me debt relief. I didn’t even know I had a debt but I immediately knew I could do the things required of me.

One line read: Sing: “We Rejoice in Earth” a song I did not know but certainly knew I could sing. The line at the bottom of the form read: Owed: Forgiveness. All that was required of me was to sing and forgive.

Weeping, I turned to the businessman and said, “Oh, but I do, I do forgive you. I do.” He looked at me in disbelief as I could hardly get out the words. Between intermittent sobs and gasps for breath, I told him I practiced a meditative prayer honoring the fact that we are all connected and in our unity I am part of him as he is part of me. I could find it in my heart to forgive him of everything.*

I awoke from the dream.

In childhood, I was witness to nature along the creek. In the dream, I witnessed the acts of human nature, acts resulting in inventions like the truck that floated past as well as the acts of using others and their allowing themselves to be used for another’s gain. I’ve benefited from these acts and have also been pained. So many of these acts and decisions, like the contract with the mill on the river, cannot be reversed.

Humankind, like my nephews and me, has made its way through the labyrinth of life to this place where the creek of time is now a swiftly moving river of all creation. How many businessmen or men like my father have impacted the river of creation with decisions based on short-term gains for themselves or to care for their children, without thought as to the long-term impact on their children’s lives and health or to the interconnected web that supports us here at home on Earth? How many of these businessmen are now politicians or CEO’s connected to lobbying groups, men unconsciously fueled by fear, trying to gut the EPA while playing on people’s fear, salt-of-the-earth people who trust without thinking? How many businessmen line their pockets exploiting Earths’ resources, precious metals, trees, coal and petroleum or even now consider how they might exploit potential metals on the moon? (Yes, a Silicon Valley group aspires to mine the moon in the coming years.)

I’ve harbored such anger at what mankind has done to Earth and how Nature is treated and mistreated, neglected and used for human benefit without appreciation. I’ve held such anger and despair that at times I didn’t think I could continue living on Earth.

So often I’ve wished for all the money in the world, all the money in the world to buy back the land like I desired in the dream. How many lotteries have I wanted to win so I could buy the remaining fields and forests as well as clear the land of homes of man so Earth could be restored? I cannot buy back the land.

How beautiful then that the businessman provided the answer to my grief as well as his own plight and redemption. The businessman gave me the key to healing and resonance with Mother Earth in these times. The slip of paper offered me held the two acts needed for our redemption, actions coming from the spirit of the human heart.

Singing and forgiving we buy back the land, first the land that is our heart, for how we treat the outer land parallels how we have treated or ignored our inner land. Through reclaiming the heart’s land, we reconnect with the outer land, the land that is Mother Earth.

Singing and forgiving we buy back the land. We awake from the dream of separation to our unity. Singing and forgiving we energetically reverse the contracts that have negatively impacted the web of life.

I need You. The businessman needs you. Earth needs You. Whether you’re a singer, dancer, drummer, laugher, lover, wherever your joy and creativity lives, you are needed at this time. Don’t wait until Earth Day!!!! Let’s rejoice in Earth. Let’s forgive the businessman for his lack of awareness as to his relationship with Earth, the impact of his actions on the land, air, water and animals and the future health of his children I ask you, your neighbor, your family to join me uniting humankind, to redeem us, to pay off our debt by singing, by rejoicing in Earth and by forgiving ourselves for our ignoring and not appreciating the myriad of ways in which Mother Earth supports us.

We bear witness and yes, those of us of heart may still grieve. It is time to forgive and sing. From this place Mother Earth feels our compassion, our partnership and we re-knit the torn threads in the web of life while just maybe healing and waking the businessman, waking the businessman who gave me this beautiful dream.

Please join him and me

-Dawn! The Good News Muse, 11 April 2011

* To learn more about the meditation or prayer form that I described to the man in my dream, click here – Ho’oponopono. I do not have this perfected, but I do know when I practice this simple prayer of “I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I thank you” I and my part of the greater web is healed and at peace.


My Mother, A Lion and The Divine Feminine

A prior vision of two lions, a male and a female, reminded me of another months ago involving a lion.  


In that vision I saw a beautiful lion made of light with a huge mane.  It dissolved and in its place was my mother’s face, her smiling, joyous face also made of light. I thought, ‘My mother has the love and courage of the lion.’

Months later the remembrance of this vision still makes me smile.

I smile yet wonder how many women are like my seventy-something Mother?  She represents so many throughout time assuming the role society suggested, devoting her life to family and trying to get everything just right.  I think of the female souls born in her time as courageous.  Do they realize their courage coming to Earth as carriers of the heart?  Do they see their beauty?  Do we see their beauty?

The root of the word courage is Latin and French for heart Yet courage is more associated with going into battle against an external enemy rather than standing and speaking for the heart.

In the book “Animal Speaks by Ted Andrews I read: “Lion represents the power of the female sun and the assertion of the feminine.”  There was a time when the lion and sun were considered symbols of the feminine.  Yet both, like courage, were co-opted and assumed by the powers of prior times.

How is it the symbolism of the lion, the sun and ultimately the feminine were taken over by the patriarchy and courage redefined?

During the times of the Roman coliseums thousands of lions were killed at the hands of the gladiators.  I’ve often wondered how a group of people could consider slaughter entertaining.  Were there women then who wanted to step forward and demand an end to such stunning loss?  Did any of them suggest to their husbands that killing animals for sport was not an act of courage?  I’ve similarly wondered how early American women in particular kept quiet as Native Americans were removed from their homes or as slaves brought here were then beaten into subservience.  And how did the women in Hitler’s Germany maintain quiet as millions upon millions were sent to concentration camps?

When I think of history, I want to know the history of the human heart and how it is we can be so dark?  How is it the carriers of Love over time were as a whole so silent?  What happened to the masculine that allowed such heartless seeming acts to unfold?

Even today I wonder how people consider dog fighting and sex trafficking entertaining. (Bear with me here.)  The past winter, I’ve learned how ignorant and in the dark I’ve been of events in my own Tennessee backyard.

In late November, Animal Rescue Corp rescued sixty dogs in “Operation Broken Chain” on Nashville’s outskirts in a large dog fighting operation.  Dog fighting in itself is cruel and abusive, yet I did not know until this rescue that owners kill the dog that looses unless it is killed in the fight.

The same week while on-line seeking another website, I came across a sex trafficking website for  End Slavery TN helping young women on the road to healing who have escaped traffickers.  I clicked on an interview in which a young woman named Hope told her story.  She bravely explained how she and others were made to crawl unclothed across a stage with dog collars around their necks before an audience.  Then they were graded on their performances sexually.  What?!!!

How, how, how can a person find entertainment in watching fights between dogs, man’s best friend, or seeing man’s helpmate, woman, treated with such horror and disdain?

What has happened to the human heart, soul and brain?  Has the collective heart over time experienced so much pain that we’ve become anesthetized on some level? Have those of us who are sensitive found it easier to turn away?  I thought of the phrase: “Out of sight.  Out of mind.”  Given this, it’s not a stretch to ‘out of heart’ is it?

More specifically what has happened to my heart?  How have I neglected this story for two months?  Is it as simple as fearing people will cringe or be uncomfortable upon reading this?  Where is my courage?

Months ago after noting the vision of the lion and my mother, I also wrote of a scene from childhood that at the time entered my mind, a scene to which I was witness as a preteen.  My mother wanted to sing in the church choir and somehow my father, who only went to church episodically, learned of this.  He condescendingly told her, “You just want to be seen.”

I now think, ‘Excuse me.  My mother just wanted to sing, yet is there something so wrong with wanting to be seen?’

In our house there was.  My father was one of the most kind, caring and generous men in our community.  The receiving line to express condolences when he died was outside the door of the funeral home until past closing time.  As is not uncommon, my father was not fully the person in public that he was at home.  He cared for us materially yet he could be condescending and controlling especially of my mother.  Sharing through song would have been a means of expressing her joy, finding her voice and being in her heart.  Yet that moment of giving in to my father was one of many I suspect in which she disconnected from her beauty and her voice.

My father wasn’t born a controller. He was first controlled by his parents as they feared their only child might die.  Penned in the lines of his baby book I have read of my grandparents’ fear that he would die of whooping cough.

Vulnerable and afraid, they never loosened their grip on my father nor did he stand up to them.  Even late in life my grandfather followed my father an adult about town keeping tabs on his whereabouts.  Today this is called stalking.  I suspect feeling out of control and ashamed in relation to his father prompted my father to be more controlling at home rather than encounter my grandfather’s rage.

My father was controlled and became a controller.  It wasn’t until he could no longer control a cancer diagnosis that he became vulnerable.

Four decades later, the past mingles with the present as I experience the effects of the father of my childhood residing in me.  On the next page in my journal, the day after I noted the vision, I wrote of coming across a You Tube video of a singer who had won “The Voice.”  Not watching much tv, I didn’t know what “The Voice” actually was.  The telling thought I confided in these private paper pages was, ‘If my father hadn’t been so controlling or my mother hadn’t listened to him, I might have been a singer or certainly have had an easier time having my voice.’

Expressing myself through stories may appear easy, yet with stories such as this I spend weeks, months, discerning what to write, trying to get my message perfectly clear so as to ensure I won’t be judged.  In trying to protect myself from judgment, I distance from my heart and voice.

Just as my father didn’t want my mother stepping outside his comfort zone the controller now in me likewise doesn’t want me stepping beyond my box. My enemy is internal. My battle isn’t with swords or guns but with subtle embedded beliefs.  The frightened masculine in me tries to exert control as it fears my being seen, being vulnerable.

Yet aren’t we at our most vulnerable when revealing our insides?  Doesn’t fully inhabiting our hearts mean being vulnerable and open to everything including pain?  Aren’t we at our most powerful when we live and speak from our insides?   

Individuals like Hope and groups like End Slavery TN and Animal Rescue Corp embody the original intent of courage.  They  stand and speak for the heart.  They embody the early symbolism of the Lion.  These groups and individuals aren’t just rescuing young women and animals; they are excavating and reviving the heart on a quantum level. They are integral to the rising Divine Feminine as is my Mother who continues to express joy and love in spite of numerous losses and changes over the last seven years.

What if the Divine has been awaiting this time, a time when all of us, women and men alike, have the opportunity to remember and own the feminine energies we hold, not to control, compete with or suppress the masculine, but to engage with compassion and  find our Voice as we stand and speak for the heart.  It is time to be seen, to demand  an end to dog fighting, animal abuse and sex trafficking.  It is time to reclaim the original meaning of courage and not speak in hate but with firm compassion from our hearts.

Can you imagine it?   What if we are in this time writing a new chapter in the history of the Heart?

I believe it is written in the stars and this is the time to fulfill our part.

Can you sense courage stirring, stirring in your heart?

(I just learned earlier tonight that Hope in the video I saw earlier is on Channel 2 WKRN in Nashville in the morning, Sat. Feb. 16 at either 6 or 8:00.)

Dawn, The Good News Muse, 15 Feb. 2013

A Vision of the Turning Times

What did our forefathers know that we’ve not been told?

(I’ve postponed sharing this information because I feel inadequate to carry a message involving history.  Now I realize all I am to do is tell what I was shown and the hunches that followed.  You discern if any of the images and messages resonate with you.)

The weekend of this fall’s autumn equinox, I awoke seeing the Pleiades, the star cluster I look forward to in winter’s sky. These seven stars shown so clearly I thought I was outside.  I was elated until I realized I was in bed in the middle of the night.

Then I was shown another scene.  Against a gray background, black silhouettes of telescopes revolved around me. I sensed I was seeing an astronomy tower of old.  Then I was shown the Liberty Bell and Ben Franklin came to my mind.

I lay in bed wondering if these things were linked.  I knew nothing about Ben Franklin beyond his experiment with the kite and key.

The day prior I had just confided in a long distance friend that I’ve never been able to comprehend what I read. Because of this I have felt mentally inferior all my life.  Being able to memorize facts for tests, I did well academically but retained little regarding history.  I now know I learn through experience something for which our education system was not set up.

This particular morning, I noted what I was shown along with my first impressions then I went to the internet.  In the seconds it took to type a few words and click search, I realized this information somehow fit together but I had no idea what it meant.

The first site I found regarded the Liberty Bell.  Called the Independence Bell in Ben Franklin’s day, it was rung when he went to England to express the colonists’ grievances to the King.  This was just one of eight times Franklin crossed the Atlantic in his life long before the speed and ease of today’s travels.

I was stunned to learn Ben Franklin only went through 2nd grade yet became a printer, scientist, inventor, statesman, politician, author and the country’s first post master.  He started a fire department, organized the first library and became the Minister to France.  He learned five languages and played three musical instruments.  This man called the First American whose many discoveries are integral to our lives today had an immense curiosity and willingness to ask questions.

I felt a particular affinity for Franklin upon learning he authored “Poor Richard’s Almanac” a precursor to the present “Farmer’s Almanac.” This inexpensive paperback in the last two years has become my gardening Bible with its charts for planting based on planetary and moon influences.

Most intriguing was information regarding Franklin’s belief in other beings in the stars.    His interest in the Native Americans, as well as legends of the Iroquois confederacy resulted in one of his best-selling pamphlets, the Iroquois creation story of  Sky Woman.  This story describes Sky Woman’s coming to Earth and birthing the human race.  Reading this brought tears to my eyes.

I thought of the many Atlantic crossings Ben Franklin made and wondered if his openness to Native American belief was somewhat influenced by his own personal encounters with star beings during those eight long crossings?  Was he imbued with heightened creative energy from the stars?  What messages might he have received influencing his discoveries, attitude and knowledge?

I then read that Franklin developed relationships with the members of the Lunar Society, a small group of men in England who met on the Monday nearest the full moon to discuss new scientific ideas, technology, innovation, metaphysics and philosophy.  These men became the fathers of the Industrial Revolution.

Was it by coincidence, intention or grace that these men met each month on a Monday, the day of the week derived from Moon Day.  They supposedly met near the full moon so it would light their way home.  What inspiration or illumination came from meeting beneath the energy of the moon near its fullest and then walking home by its light?

I found myself wondering what our forefathers knew that we’ve not been told?

Where did the Pleiades fit into what I was shown?

In May 2011, two long distance friends visiting me shared how some Native Americans thought certain souls came to Earth from this star system. This stirred my interest and I began to look for them in winter’s night sky.  My first personal experience with the Pleiades was in January (2012) after my partner and I held a ritual at one of the starting points of the Trail of Tears. As we returned to our car, I happened to look up and saw the Pleiades overhead.  I sensed we were being quietly watched over from these stars above us.

The particular morning of my on-line search I found “in the ancient world, in places of great power and influence, monuments were built aligned with the Pleiades. The Washington Monument is aligned with the Pleiades.”

I found sites suggesting that the whole of Washington D.C. is laid out based on aligning buildings and monuments with certain star systems.  Sites I later came across insisted this held demonic intent.

What I thought more interesting is that in today’s culture, the word star evokes actors, musicians and athletes not heavenly bodies of light.  Those interested in the heavens stars tend to fall into groups: Scientists and investors seeking to exploit bodies in space for minerals necessary for our technological devices, those looking to the star’s for Earth’s salvation, those looking to the heavens for religious salvation and those who are simply curious as to the night sky.  Many I fear live ignorant of the stars as I have until recently.

I concluded my morning’s search, my mind a tangle of information and feeling a mix of pressure around wanting to get whatever the message was ‘just right’ and curious as to these things shown to me.

The next morning I was given more of the story.  I saw what looked like a photo of a doorway, specifically the floor at the threshold. This was followed by a slowly spinning mandala of five-pointed stars outlined in black. One star was in the center and each point was connected to the point of another star.  The turning image looked like something from the Southwestern Hopi.

I watched and knew I was being shown that the turning stars offer a threshold for our entering a new space and time.   

The next morning, I sat on the sofa wrapped in a fog, coffee in hand, watching sunlight climb the trees. The Liberty Bell was on my mind.  Something felt missing regarding this piece of what I had been shown.

Not being one to read the news, I picked up the weekend’s paper to distract myself or so I thought.  As I opened the local section, my breath was taken.  On page two was a small photo of a bell, a replica of the Liberty Bell being rung at a local celebration of Constitution Week.  The week prior had been the 225th anniversary of the adoption of the US Constitution.

Before work, I delved into sites regarding the constitution and became even more mentally laden with information.  Each day that week I read about the Constitution yet nothing I read felt intuitively right in relation to what I had been shown.

Days later as Jerry walked through the room I asked, “Does the Liberty Bell mean anything to you?”

He only responded, “What does a bell do?”

In that moment I knew.  A bell sounds a tone and in a tone I also saw at one. The first thing I had read was of the bell’s being rung when Ben Franklin went to England representing the colonies.  Were the people “at one” then or more so than we seem today?  The bell did crack after all.  Was this symbolic of the challenge even then of being unified while maintaining and honoring individual differences?

I wondered, ‘If a bell makes a tone, can one be constructed to make specific tones?’ (I had totally forgotten of hearing church hand bell groups long ago.)

I searched on-line and learned the Liberty Bell made in London was made to sound E flat.  I wondered if E flat in particular evoked a particular feeling or mood.  I searched E flat and found it is often associated with bold, heroic music.

In one week, I had visions and intuitions regarding the Pleiades and astronomers of old, the Liberty Bell and Ben Franklin, a threshold and the turning stars, Constitution Week and a heroic tone. What did I make of this?

It is heroic the founding fathers convened to discuss, debate and ultimately craft a document that held a vision for America and that families set out for the unknown by crossing the watery threshold of the Atlantic with the starry night sky for navigation.

Those before us won independence from England and became the builders of the outer structures in which our leaders convene. They crafted the political structure under which we’re governed and about which there’s such division today.

It is equally heroic that we as Souls have gathered at this time.  Like those before us, we too stand at a threshold to the unknown with assistance from the stars.  We have the opportunity to build a new structure born in independence yet requiring something possibly more evolved than independence.

These times call for a new heroism founded in the curiosity of Ben Franklin and the willingness to ask questions without knowing the answers. Who among us is willing to be that curious, to suspend what we cling to and the beliefs we adhere to and dig deeper to ask more and better questions?

These times call for a heroism that doesn’t reactively vilify those who look or believe contrary to us.  We may celebrate Constitution Week, yet reacting in fear, judgment and anger suggests our constitution’s weak, our personal inner constitution.  These times call for an inner structure of courage, compassion and awareness.

The tone that sounds today isn’t that of a bell but the greater conversation.  We each have the opportunity to consciously set our individual tone which impacts the greater tone.

The Founding Fathers gained independence and created literal and political structures.  We’ve the opportunity to more fully realize our interdependence and support a new relational structure, one that joins the inner with the outer and realizes our interconnectedness with one another, Nature and all of Earth.

Just as the stars were with our founders, they are with us assisting in the opportunity to use free will in relation to our hearts, minds and voices as we stand at a threshold to a new paradigm.

I can hardly contain myself as I prepare to post this on 12/20/2012 feeling, sensing and believing in my deepest self that this is the time I have awaited for many, many lives.

-Dawn, The Good News Muse 20 December 2012

New Patterns & Presence with the Patriarchy As It Is Laid to Rest

These are three other visions that occurred in the days that followed the one I wrote of in the prior posting: Message from the Universe.  I share this especially in this long awaited Time for which we were born in hopes that you will be feel and find what resonates with you in the days and weeks ahead.


10-26-11 – I lay on my acupuncturist’s table when the second seeing came.  A fuchsia silhouette of an individual stood at what appeared to be an open doorway.  As the angle shifted, I realized the person was standing on the edge of what looked like the Universe yet they were looking out into total black Nothingness.  As they took a step, the foundation on which they stood rotated like the Earth. They were met by another figure identical to them.  Face-to- face the two silhouettes stood. Was I being shown an encounter between two people or an individual symbolic of humankind coming face-to-face with itself

That night as I lay in bed, I found myself in the Universe again.  Usually when these trips occur I float along in awe of all the stars.  This time I immediately realized something was different. The stars were minimal.  In the distance was a man’s face made of lines of light, a man appearing pained and frightened.

As I moved toward the face, I realized this man had the saddest, most terrified expression I had ever seen. (I recall seeing something close to this expression on my father’s face in a dream and again as he sat in bed looking at me as he died of cancer.)  As I moved nearer, I began to gently float into the man’s face. As I did, it slowly fell apart and disintegrated.  I found myself in a Universe absolutely filled with stars.

I knew I had seen the diminishing, pained and frightened patriarchy, the system that for centuries has been in control.  The man represented not just men, but the part of us all that is frightened of losing control, afraid to really sit still, be vulnerable and exposed.  I also knew I had seen the unspoken sadness and terror of the patriarchy that’s filled with grief and regret for what’s been done to Earth and others directly and indirectly in the name of competition, control and conquest.  So many of our systems are broken because the patriarchy is broken and cannot admit vulnerability and shame.

Two days later I found myself in the Universe again.  This time I traveled rapidly unlike anything prior.  I zoomed through space and as I did I saw the faces of many, many animals. Their eyes and faces made of energy often come to me as I float among the stars but never this many or this quickly.  I wondered if I was speeding to the edge of space or returning from the beginning of time. The last face I saw, I recognized.  A fox came and traveled with me.

I went straight to my copy of “Animal Speaks” and read about fox.   Immediately I knew why fox had stayed. Ted Andrews writes that there are 21 different kinds of foxes found throughout the world and that the “Card 21 in the tarot deck is The World, a card reflecting a new world opening up, that the process of creation is beginning. It reflects that the world is growing into new patterns that will be beneficial.” 

This fit perfectly with the first vision days earlier in which I saw the energy of creation being pulsed to us through the stars and the grid laid for the new consciousness of love.  This world of new patterns speaks to a model of relationship based in cooperation, community and compassion for all arriving as the patriarchy is dying.

There is grace and beauty in this time of such brokenness as we hold the fertile soil for new patterns represented by the fox and the American flag of love in my prior vision.

The greatest challenge of this New Time may be forgiving and loving the patriarchy, hearing it through what’s not being said rather than retaliating or withholding presence.  If this system of control and conquering is honored, it will be laid to rest in love and less likely re-emerge on a planetary scale in times to come.

This Shift, this work is not done on our own.  We have such help from the stars, the stars above in the Universe and the stars below in the Earth.   Thank you for being here, for agreeing to show up on Earth for this Time !!! I offer these visions and thoughts in the spirit of Love.   December 19, 2012

-Dawn, The Good News Muse 19 Dec. 2012,