I wrote the story "Witch Proud" this afternoon and a little while later, went to bed, still in that state the story does describe, evoke, whatever one might call it.

Hypnotically suggest, at that.

Either way, I got to thinking about many things and their energies and how they might benefit from being awoken in that manner.

As an aside to those who do not follow this list with regularity, Witch Proud is a simple translation/description of the process used on the Dichroic Glass, and what the little Prince guy referred to when he said, "A pile of rocks ceases to be a pile of rocks when a sentient being comes along and perceives within it a cathedral."

Eventually, my mind turned to the money in my bank and I noted with interest that this too was sleeping-beauty-sleeping still and had been waiting for this kiss of life for as long as it had been in my possession.

So in order to make that transfer of the skill learned on solid objects such as the glass from Witch Proud and the dichroic glass cabochons, I switched to PS and walked into a virtual vault where my money was kept. Golden coins, fast asleep.

Took me a while to generate the requisite love, respect and admiration which provides the necessary energy for that task but eventually, the charge was there and I could "breathe life into them".

I awakened them most tenderly.

As PS events do, they take this turn into the surreal, yet beautiful unfoldments as the situation takes on a life of its own - the golden coins turned into eggs, and they hatched these extraordinary small golden energy creatures, singing beings which - like ducklings - immediately recognised me as their own and came to me.

They were all around me, and I spend some considerable time stroking them, loving them, giggling them and with them, and generally speaking enjoying them in a full body energy autogenic experience. Then I told them to go out and seek out others of their kind, even eggs, and bring them here to be awakened likewise and to make a haven for their kind, a central sanctuary where they may come and be loved and go out from there and do their thing.

It was really sweet. Most of them left and a couple of small ones stayed behind, they were not yet ready and it was really pleasant to have them there. They are playing by the hearth as I'm writing this.

I remember wondering what they might grow into as they get older and more mature, I'm sure it will be pretty breath-taking to see their adult forms sometime.

I got this far away sense of tremendous power, golden rushing. Then I fell asleep.

And now and writing this, I wonder if one time, something will come to me and treat me like that, wake me up too.

Wouldn't that be something?



Silvia Hartmann

Witch Proud

Are you feeling comfortable?

Then let us begin ...

Imagine an untidy kitchen - dishes piled here and there, pots and pans, perhaps a take-out carton here and there, cloths strewn and surfaces filled with crumbs and sugar, stains as is the floor; and handprints on the cupboards, handles smeared and of course, there is the cooker ...

Imagine a person who begins the task by filling the sink with hot water, washing up liquid makes the suds and randomly, they pick up a glass. A simple glass, cheap crystal imitation, smeared and what was left of what was once inside, dried in swirls to the bottom ...

Immerse the glass in the hot water, the first step on this task, this journey and begin to soften the stains and smears, rub it with your hands and with a cloth or sponge and feel it cutting back to what is underneath, a smooth silky surface revealed to the touch, and when you lift it from the water, it sparkles and it shines, its true appearance now revealed for all to see.

Here and there some small soap bubbles remain and they are multi-coloured, rainbow like, and in the bottom those who made this glass did think to make a little star.

And so a person might slip into a different state of being as they look upon the simple glass, a cheap imitation of crystal ware cut by an artist or a craftsman, this glass is clearly from a mould because the edges aren't sharp, they're not producing rainbows, and yet, here it is, and it is here.

It is here and once again, someone from this family did use this glass to drink, to take a liquid straight into their very structure, and so now there is the thought that if this simply glass could be a holy chalice, it could be a focus and converter, something magical, something to channel well-being and love, permission to heal, permission to restore and much beside - it is intention which will turn a simple glass into a healing chalice, much as it is that as well which turns another from a stranger in the street to one who lives forever in your heart.

There is a doubt, a flashing moment where the person looks upon the glass held in their reverend hands and is unsure if they would have just what it takes to take their own intention and to shape the energy of such a thing, to call it to awakening and to a life that is beyond what one might see if one would look with eyes alone; but even as they doubt they feel already in their palms and fingertips that special sense of warmth and tingle, as intention turns to flow and rushes from them, straight from them into the glass and wakes it up, and makes it more than ever it had been before - it gives the glass a soul and an existence, a purpose which it never had, and turns a simple glass into a healing chalice in a moment that is magical in every way, that is right in every way and feels so moving and profound, the person cannot help but cry.

But once awoken, such a thing can never go away; and once the person did now understand just what they did, and all the repercussions as the glass across the years will pass from hand to hand, from lip to lip, delivering a charge of life itself with every liquid it may yet contain, no matter what and even if it should be poison - the world has changed materially just for the person blessing once this simple glass, cheap imitation crystal.

Understanding this, and knowing that it's right, the person seems to start aware and look about themselves with a new definition, new eyes, new feelings and sensations, and now it is regardless just how many objects wait their turn to be thus gently placed into the magic waters and awoken, one by one, each simple spoon, each plate a treasure, worth immeasurably more than any king or priest might well afford to trade for gold - and every one awoken, joining all the others on the other side where sparkling, living objects now reside that every one, and every one, including the most lowly seeming ones amongst them, have a charge of love and of support for those who should make use of them, from now until forever, they will glow and change their worlds with every meal, with every drop of drink and every tiny morsel here consumed.

But what is more, as all these objects did begin to sing their messages of hope, of love and of support, the person feels more energised - it is as though the more they gave, the more they did receive and they begin to smile and sing, with dancing feet and freely joyful waving hands did they continue to imbue with love the surfaces they cleaned, the surfaces upon the bread and wine of all who do reside here will be sitting, the surfaces alight, alive and so the person just continues in their dance of love for everything around them, cleaning and clearing, awakening one thing beyond the next, surrounded in a glow that is so strong its even noticed when another comes into the room and stops and in surprise they say, "What happened here? This is much more than clean? Did you take out the light bulbs and replaced them with some others which are shining twice as bright?"

The person smiles most happily and folds the last cloth so that it may dry with love and with a lingering touch of gratitude, for this plain cloth did spread around just everywhere it touched that message of awakening and of renewal.

They fold the cloth and turn around and say, "Would you perhaps like a drink of lemonade?" and when the other nods, they take a simple glass, cheap crystal imitation, and pour the drink, and watch the other take it from their hand, and raise it to their lips, and know that they did right.




Silvia Hartmann

9/11/03