Tag Archive: The Celestine Prophecy


I have come to the last known insight of the Celestine Prophecy:  the 9th insight. The text for this insight is not quite complete and it alludes to a 10th insight. It speaks of a higher purpose for humankind, a spiritual purpose: to continue reaching higher and higher vibrational levels until we are able to cross between this world and the next, until we become light beings. It seems those who wrote this prophecy did just that, leaving the text uncompleted. We reach these higher levels of vibrational energy by learning to give energy to all those around us rather than take. The more energy we give the more we find energy flows into us from the universe.

Will we be able to enter and leave freely from this world and the next? This is what I wonder. If all those who learn of the insights and learn to continually give energy rather than take cross to another world and do not return then who will guide those left? Perhaps this is what the 10th insight is about. It seems there is still much work to be done in this world.

This year has given me a glimpse of another way to live. It’s a way of living where the earth is your mother and your teacher and you are guided by a deep trust in the mystery. It is a way to live in the Now, knowing that life is a dance with death and that death is always followed by new life. This is the cycle of creation. With this wisdom one can regain innocence, a wise innocence, an innocence that comes with having looked death in the eye and found that life always follows. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, author of Woman who Run with the Wolves, says that in Spanish, inocente is understood to mean a person who tries not to harm another but who also is able to heal herself of all wounds. To be innocent is different than to be naive. The naive unknowingly is attracted to the good, the innocent has seen all and is still attracted to the good. La Inocenta is the name often given to a curandera healer, one who heals others and themselves of all injury or harm. Innocence requires wisdom. Children who have that wise innocence perhaps still remember the death that preceded their birth.

And so the Sufi prayer goes, “Shatter my heart so a new room can be created for a Limitless Love.”

How do I bring this wise innocence with me back to the other side? How do I not forget and stay connected to the magic and the mystery? How do I share it with those who wish to know? And how do I tread lightly on this earth, leaving only footsteps, but footsteps that last on the heart, soul, and mind of humanity?

And so this story comes to an end and a new one begins.

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I have only been on this island less than two weeks but I am already starting to appreciate the people here. They are a rugged, quirky bunch, for sure, but they are kind hearted and community oriented while maintaining their individuality. I’ve been told that in the summer, when there are many passers through, people don’t pay much attention to you if they don’t know you—they figure you will be gone too soon for it to be worth it for them. It takes too much energy to build relationships with people who only come to take pleasure in this little island for a week, perhaps never to return. But when you are here in the off season, like now, people take a bit more notice. Perhaps you are not just a passer through.

Yesterday I got to go to the last grub and groove of the season. On the first Saturday of the month, from October through April, there is dinner and live entertainment at the community hall. Its just five dollars to get in and anyone can sign up to play music or perform some talent of theirs. There were quite a few people signed up for this last grub and groove, from a marimba ensemble to belly dancing to Bach concertos. The audience was intent on each performer, supporting and encouraging their fellow community members.

Today I went to Anicca’s birthday bike parade. She is Dave, the cobber’s daughter and she turned seven. There was a lively little crew of parents and kids, with a few tandem bikes and makeshift trailers for the little ones. I recognized many of their faces from the grub and groove and quickly was making friends. A little girl of only three, named Selúmia, struck me with her confidence and maturity. I noticed how Sam, her father, treated her with the utmost respect, like she was a fully capable and rationale human being.

The 8th insight talks about how the way we interact will change, beginning with our children. It is about a new way of relating to other people, to children and adults. It’s about naming control dramas and breaking through them and focusing on other people in a way that sends them energy. In this way we will build on each other’s energy rather than sucking energy out of each other. Children, in particular, must never be denied energy. We must give truthful answers to all their questions, in a language they can understand, and they should never be corrected or told no. This is how control dramas are created. Rather, you can help them reason their way to a smarter decision. Or some things they will have to learn for themselves.

As I take interest in the people around me I find they take interest in me. Soon Selúmia has taken my hand and is leading me down a path. Her father says I’ll be back to this island one day. Perhaps I will, but I don’t think it will be to stay. I think it will be to reconnect with the mystery, and to remind me of the work that needs to be done in the rest of the world—on the other side of the ferry.

The age demographics on this island are shifting. In the 1960’s there were fifty or sixty kids in the school here. Now there are barely twenty. It is becoming harder for young people to move here as prices of land have risen and cost of living is generally higher on this island due to the cost of bringing everything from the mainland.

Perhaps my generation will have to create our own version of Lasqueti somewhere. Perhaps it is our purpose to take the ideals and energy of the 1960’s, which seem to be resurfacing with movements like Occupy, and build on them. I hear people talk about the 1960’s as an age of idealism that ultimately failed to deliver much change, creating a least a few jaded, bitter idealists, of which Michael Reynolds might be one of. But I don’t think the 60’s were a failure. Change comes slow, especially at first. As I look at the current energy and interest in sustainability and social justice I see many seeds that were planted in the 60’s and 70’s. Those times were important for making the ground fertile. Mistakes were made and lessons learned and now those seeds are germinating and nearing their time to blossom. I hear more and more people, both young and old, talking of a coming shift. There is a restlessness within the masses. Something is about to change.

The seventh insight says that we must assume every event has significance and contains a message that somehow pertains to our purpose. It challenges us to see the silver lining in every event, no matter how negative, and allows us to see the answers as they arrive. This will only happen though once we have become conscious of our control drama that the sixth insight talks of and find the higher purpose or question that we were born into our family to answer. Each successive generation is meant to evolve a little further than the previous one, bringing all of humanity to a higher vibrational level.  What will distinguish this generation is that we are ready to bring this process of evolution, which has been happening all along, to full consciousness and thereby vastly accelerate the process.

A Lasqueti Story: Part 6

 The fifth insight tells us that the universe has all the energy we need if only we can open up to it. Opening up to it requires coming from a state of love.

Mark works more like an artist attacking a canvas than like a builder following architectural drawings. He responds to what he sees and feels as he builds, planning basic concepts and structure but open to being inspired as he creates. And he seems to be deeply connected to some creative energy source as his process is fluid and easy.  Perhaps it is all the meditation, Tai Chi, and contact improvisation dance he does. All these practices require being connected to an energy, whether that be a cosmic energy, your own energy, or the energy of your dance partner.

I haven’t been home now for eight months or so. But my travels have also kept me in North America. And yet I feel like these eight months have taken me further from home then any trip I have taken to Bolivia or Japan. My way of looking at the world feels like it is shifting, and with it so are my goals and aspirations. My mind seems to see and think differently now. This year has been a spiritual journey just as much as any other kind of journey. Will home still feel like home? Or will I feel lost and like no one speaks my language?

It seems the world has conspired around me to show me on this year that a different way of living is possible. But this different way requires a total paradigm shift. We are talking of a world not based on consumption or competition. We are talking of a world where wealth is not measured by how much money you have in the bank or by material assets but by a myriad of other things, such as social connections, knowledge of plants, animals, and the land, skills you can barter or trade with, and things like spiritual knowledge. How do I share my experiences with people living in a different paradigm?

I know some will think I have lost touch with reality, but to them I ask who makes your reality? Is it not you? I think what this year has taught me, more then anything else, is that we all have more control then we think. We have the ability to tell our own stories, thereby creating our own paradigms and creating our own worldview, choosing on any given day whether or not to feel happy. Do not mistake me though, this does not mean that we should choose to be happy every day. There are things that deserve our anger and times when we need to feel sad. Recognizing this need and allowing this feeling is, in itself, a choice. But by choosing not to resist these emotions we no longer are a slave to them, and we can begin to see the ever changing quality of these emotions. This is the teaching of Buddha: Anicca—Everything changes.

The sixth insight talks of a control drama that each of us have. This drama was created in early childhood and is repeated unconsciously throughout our lives. If we become conscious of it we can free ourselves of this need to control and then we will begin to find the higher purpose in our lives.

Mark left today for a short overnight trip to Vancouver to pick up some tongue and groove wood to complete the dance floor, so it is just me holding down the fort until tomorrow evening. I start my day by reading a bit more of Celestine Prophecy.

The Third Insight describes a new understanding of the physical world. It says we humans will learn to perceive what was formerly an invisible type of energy. In other words, the basic stuff of the universe, at its core, is a kind of pure energy that is malleable to human intention and expectation in a way that defies old mechanistic models of the universe. It’s as though our expectation itself causes our energy to flow out into the world and affect other energy systems.

I flash back to the healing work my grandmother does and the little bit about auras and energy work that I was reading and learning while staying with her six or so months ago.

So yes, much of this stuff isn’t new, but the idea that enough of us might be having these insights at the same time to actually cause a global shift now, in the early part of the 21st century… That is exciting.

The sun is starting to feel warm and I am ready to leave this wind sheltered structure. I decide to take a walk down the road and try to find Dave’s place. He is a cob builder on the island. I am not quite sure how to get there, especially since the directions I received from Dave, who I met briefly yesterday, and those I received from Mark seem to be a bit different. But I decide I will try my luck, as I want to go for a walk anyway.

As I walk briskly, I realize that all of Lasqueti’s roads seem to be dirt roads. I don’t think I have seen a single paved one yet. I recall yesterday, backing down one particularly bumpy dirt road with Mark to pick up some logs and him saying jokingly, “I think you would have to go to Northern Pakistan to find a lifestyle like this.” His comment may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but a lot about this island feels more like places I have been in rural Bolivia then anywhere in the industrialized world. And the amazing thing is most of the people living here left an urban, more modern lifestyle and chose this one. Mark has made very clear that it is, indeed, a lifestyle choice, and that it takes work to live here, but for him and the others on this island the rewards are well worth it.

With no watch and no cell service on this island I am not sure how long I have been walking, but it has been a pleasant, quiet walk on these dirt roads. I have come across piles of sand and clay, which must mean cob is nearby. Indeed, there is a little footpath, which I follow to a cluster of cob structures.

Dave is at work in a cob greenhouse, hanging some laundry out to dry. But he welcomes me and says he was about to take a break for lunch and asks if I will join him. Over a simple, but yummy meal of soup and crackers we begin to talk. Dave is a gentle man of probably mid forties who is in the process of moving from Vancouver to the island with his 7 year old daughter.

Soon we are talking about Ishmael, by Daniel Quinn, and Taker and Leaver Societies. I share a bit about Celestine Prophecy, which alludes to a similar need for a shift in worldview but attacks it from a more spiritual angle. Dave shares of another book called the Continuum Concept by Jean Liedloff that looks at two tribes basically living untouched by modern civilization. He tells me how the author, after living a few years with these tribes, concluded that there was something different about these people. It took her a while to put her finger on it but eventually she realized it was that they were happy. And so she spent the rest of her life figuring out and synthesizing what allowed them to be happy in a way that she rarely saw in modern society. The book explains her conclusions.

These books and other experiences have led Dave to make a conscious, political decision to try and not feed or support the current system, which he has judged as dysfunctional, and instead look to an alternative. This island and cob building seem to be part of his solution.

I ask him if he ever lived in any intentional communities and how he finds living on the island similar or different to living in these communities. He thinks for a bit. Then responds that that he appreciates the question and that yes, he has lived in a few intentional communities and in his experience they didn’t work because there was still a power structure and those in power would end up wanting to keep that power. After a pause, he added, “It’s ironic, the people on this island seem to come seeking independence, but they end up inadvertently creating community.” Perhaps it is that once their own needs for independence, self-sufficiency, and happiness are met, they have more to give others?

The Fourth Insight exposes a human tendency to steal energy from other humans by controlling them because we so often feel depleted of energy due to being disconnected from the larger source of energy. We are stuck in a kind of competition for each other’s energy, which we gain by controlling and manipulating each other.

I am not sure how much time has passed when I awaken, but the boat is rocking quite a bit and I am thankful I was able to sleep away at least some of the ride. Soon we are approaching shore and I do my best to shake off the sleep and get ready to meet Mark.

Mark spots me right away as he knows pretty much everyone else on the ferry and introduces himself to me with a warm hug. He helps another lady with some of her boxes and then we get into his little car, every inch of which is painted with bright colors and images that I assume represent snapshots of island life.

After a short uphill ride on bumpy dirt roads we arrive. He tells me to keep my pack on, as we will take my things right to my little cabin, that he has preheated for me.

My cabin, a small ten by ten room with two large windows, is indeed toasty. The walls are simple; unfinished wood scraps from the mill with cob in between them. He explains to me that between the inner and outer walls are hundreds of plastic bags, which have amazing insulation value. The sub floor is also bags of bags compressed before and earthen cob floor was applied on top. And the roof too is about 2 feet thick and apparently filled with bags under a top sod layer in which plants are growing. This little structure will easily stay warm overnight from one good fire lit in the firebox that is fed from the outside. He explains that by having the entrance to the firebox fed from the outside it keeps the fire from pulling warm air out of the structure and creating a cold draft.

As we go back into the main structure on Mark’s land he says somewhat apologetically that he forgets to tell people that he lives basically outside. I already feel at home.

This structure is hard to put to words. Composed of many, huge wooden arches, crisscrossing one another, it feels like I am in the bowels of a many-legged spider. Mark has created spans of close to one hundred feet that encase a beautiful, open, hard wood dance floor. The space is sheltered from the wind and rain but exposed bedrock on all sides and spaces between the boards and windows give it a feeling of being part of the natural world. It feels somewhat like a cave but sunlight shines in, with only parts of the roof covered in sod, and so the space is quite bright. My mind is trying to figure out the engineering of this place and doesn’t even know where to begin. Indeed, an ancient bridge called the rainbow bridge that still baffles modern day engineers was the inspiration for this structure.

Food here seems to either come in bulk from off island or directly from the land. After a hot meal of rice and chicken, with a health y dose of Turmeric on it (good for the joints and inflammation) and a Cesar salad of cabbage from the garden with lots and lots of garlic in the dressing, Mark makes sure I know how to find the bathroom (a simple wooden outhouse) and how to get myself water and excuses himself for the night.

A Lasqueti Story: Part 2

Soon I begin to get cold and realize that I need to move around to keep myself warm. Deciding that I won’t go far, I move my bags so they are not in plain site, even though I doubt this is the kind of place where I need to worry, and start to walk further down the pier. After watching the gulls for a while swoop and holler I walk back towards the bus stop. As I walk I notice something sticking out of the water moving, almost waving at me. Is that a flipper of something? A whale?

I walk quicker, down to where a woman is also watching the water, right where I saw that strange shape flap at me. As I get closer I see that indeed there is something. A whole bunch of them too! They are seals, not more then ten feet from the dock, floating lazily all together, as if dozing the way one might see a pile of puppies piled on top of one another.

I ask the woman who is watching, what are they doing? She says they are just playing, relaxing. And I guess they are. As I watch a few of them leave the group, do a somersault or two, and return. Another sticks it’s tail in the air as if doing a handstand. And one starts talking to us quite emphatically. Ahh, so I was hearing seals earlier.

The woman tells me that there was a herring run here just a few days ago and so all the seagulls and probably these seals are fat and content with herring full bellies. Perhaps they are lazing around as they digest their big meal.

I ask her if she’s headed to Lasqueti and she says that yes, indeed she is and that the ferry should be here any minute. “But it’s only five,” I say. “I thought it comes at five thirty.” She explains that it comes at five and then we load everything on and then it leaves as five thirty. I thank her for this information and head up to the little bus stop like shelter to grab my bags.

I put my big pack on one knee, one arm in one strap, and then the next arm through the next strap. My school pack goes on the front like a baby, and I start walking down, back to where the seals are . Suddenly my ankle rolls, something I could usually regain my balance from quickly, but with my heavy pack on I go down. The sharp metal of the ramp that is meant to keep people from slipping cuts through my new Dickie’s pants and into my knee. I’m glad that’s all it cut. As I get up and dust myself off I look around and wonder if anyone saw my foolish fall. Yes, it looks like a few people did, but no one is running to help or ask if I am ok. I get the feeling that people take care of themselves here and unless they know you, you’re on your own too.

By the time I get down the dock a little unmarked metal boat has pulled up and not quite a dozen people are started to load it up. This walk-on only boat is the ferry to Lasqueti it seems.

I put my bag in the back and gather the courage to ask the single crewmember if I could get a band-aid or something from their first aid kit as I could feel blood starting to run down my leg. He asks how big a band-aid I might need and I show him with my hands. Soon he has handed me three butterfly band-aids and two alcohol swabs. As I pull up my pant leg and he sees the blood he hands me a rag and a bottle of water. Then I am on my own.

The gash isn’t too deep but it is ugly looking enough to make me a bit woozy. I do my best to clean it up and then lay my head back and close my eyes. The day is windy and rain is starting to come down. It looks like it is going to be a choppy ride as the boat is also quite small. I decide my best bet for not getting seasick is to take a nap, and so I do.

A Lasqueti Story: Part 1

Before I write anything I feel I should say that I am still a new comer to Lasqueti Island, and my experience should in no way be taken as representative of Lasqueti as a whole. Perhaps it is best to read this as a story and nothing more…

Lasqueti feels like the frontier. It feels not quite like going backwards in time. It could perhaps be going forward in time to what I might imagine a post apocalyptic, recovering humanity to look like. Or it could just be a different, parallel universe.

Things started to change when I left Victoria, BC. And of course they would, as it was then, while waiting for my ride, that I parked myself on the steps of the Convention Center, leaned back on my pack, and began to read the Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield. As I looked at the cover and then started to turn to the first page a young man walking by and said, with a knowing look, “Celestine Prophecy?”

The first insight of the prophecy: We become conscious of the coincidences of our lives.

About a half hour later I got in a little white van with the name Island Link written on its side. I was the only passenger on this fair March day in the year 2012. I chatted with the driver, a friendly man from the northern part of Vancouver Island.

It wasn’t until we reached Nanaimo that a few other passengers, three women probably in their mid sixties, joined us. As I dozed in and out of sleep for the rest of the ride I overheard conversations of a big windstorm that knocked out power for three days. Apparently they live out near the end of the power line so their houses were some of the last to regain power.  Another conversation lets me know that one of the women doesn’t own a car and never has. Nor does she have a computer. I have a feeling that if I thought Friday harbor was a small town I am about to find myself in an even smaller town, or in what might even be no town at all.

I am the first to be dropped off at French Creek, where I have been told the ferry to Lasqueti leaves. The driver helps me gather my things, makes sure I haven’t forgotten anything, and sends me off with a flattering comment about getting to meet a pretty girl from Boston.

I look around me, getting my bearings. Next to me is a small general store, and just ten or so feet away is an old man leaning against the wall. He gives me a nod and says, “I think you’ve got a while to wait.” It’s about 3pm and the ferry doesn’t come until five thirty. I sit for a while outside the general store then wander inside to inquire about where exactly the ferry picks people up and if I have to buy a ticket. The young woman at the cash register calls in her dad and asks him, “Is the ferry running today?” He says he’s not sure and goes to look for a schedule, but returns to say he must have given the last one away a few days ago. I’m not too worried as Mark, who I will be staying with on Lasqueti, told me it would be running every day except Tuesday and Wednesday. Today is Thursday. So I ask again abut where exactly I go to catch the ferry and am directed down the pier.

As I walk down the pier seagulls swarm around me and there is a noise that my mind thinks must belong to a seal or sea lion but my eyes can’t find the source of. There are a bunch of cars parked, all of which look like they could use a tune up or a paint job, and signs for seafood here and there, but it doesn’t look like anyone is selling today. Despite an occasional person or car, the place feels eerily empty. Eventually I find a little bus stop like shelter and a hand painted sign saying Lasqueti ferry. I park myself here and pull out my book.

The second insight of the Prophecy: We are able to see the history of the modern age as a whole and are able to identify a particular preoccupation that developed during the later half of this millennium and awaken from this preoccupation. That preoccupation has been to develop a more comfortable way to survive. But we’ve forgotten that we still don’t know what we are surviving for.

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