My Spiritual Windows

Portal Tones of the Soul   Our physical body is merely and extension of our spiritual body, multi-dimensional portal truely without limitations beyond a choice to accept and allowing the connection. Portals have been commonly used in phrases giving the perception of being beyond the physical in nature - connecting beyond in a sense and "bringing" the connection within. The statement itself in mirror is far truer in fact than fiction. Millions of human portals, enhabiting this world of ours commonly thought of as Earth or mortality.  Another very true realtiy of our spiritual connection is "tone" being a universal language used between a portal which we are - and our spiritual being. Music is a universal language, even without words, listening to tones from an language we have an ability understood to interpet the tones into thought and transition tone to message. Feeling and interpeting the tones through processors of mind/body/spirit to indentify o

My Dad left this world 32 years ago this summer leaving Fathers Day as a time of remembering rather than being with Dad, best friend/confidant/wisdom/love – sums up the time with my Dad. During the year prior to my mother leaving this world, many nights in the dream state I would spend time with Dad, always in the same location. A brown two-story house I have never known, where talk/questions and answers were shared. Questions I would ask – always with an answer given. Often I have heard people say, “If I could only have another day with __, I have so much to ask!”

Changing a < than to a > than in life In life we travel through many experiences which imprint a lesser than feeling which last from a moment to a lifetime. Many, being imprinted as children and not being released throughout life. I can remember a time in my own life, when sitting in the backseat of the car with my older sister and singing, my mother turned around from the front seat and informed me that my singing was monotone, whereas my sister was singing wonderfully. Having no idea what monotone even was, a choice was made not to sing again. If my singing was unpleasant to my mother, surely this would not be an effort to display to others. Simple words I am sure she did not remember, yet a stamp of lesser than became the imprint. God, turned this into a greater than and started filling my mind with an outlet, which holds all the songs I have heard which can be reheard verbatim by the artists who sang the song. A concert of sorts in my choosing always available and I do l