Daisy to and through Cathee Courter
Daisy: Cathee, I'm a soulmate of yours. Whatever you may hear about shamen and their familiars, the truth is that it's like being in love to find a soulmate. Let's make a great team. There's nothing like being in love, really.
[Cathee: It's raining. I'll just let it rain on me.]
I am so glad that you have stuck with me, and are still coming to see me. I long for you. I know the teachings have been steady, but they're not the only thing we're about. It's heart opening.
In times like this, any time you pick up a human news magazine, there's really bad news. I don't feel upset about these things. And I think it's a waste of your energy for you to worry about any of that. Especially when you have found a soulmate.
I'm speaking both as my individual self and as the deva of daisy. What those of us who do a yearly cycle of life and death are concerned about most is quality of experience, not outward structures. Daisies don't need bylaws of interaction, because we don't treat each other horribly. And so what we're always looking for is depth of experience. And this can mean like the beauty here, yes. It can certainly mean my ability to love you and lure you into my perception. But it's more than that. I have alluded at times to the inner dreamtime. We have never left the ancient ways of being. And you haven't either really, although you've lost access to remembering them, to consciously being aware of what you know. Were you to live there more, you wouldn't worry so much about what your government's doing either.
I'm not dissing politics. I understand that dealing with socio-civic realms is something that some people are very oriented towards, and find great meaning in.
[There's sleet coming down. Ooh, big drop.]
But I want to say that were more people attuned to the ancient ways of knowing, you would not need half of the government you have—all these laws to keep people from hurting each other, and from taking advantage of the land in ways that someone deems unfair, never asking the land, of course. From my perspective, a lot of this is just silly. Your need for laws is a sign that something's gone wrong with humans. When things get so externalized in how people live that they look outside of themselves to find a compass, or at least to stay out of trouble, that tells me that something is severely wrong with the species as a whole and the way it has developed. It's a matter of losing an internal knowing and capacity for co-creating your experience, I suppose, but even more than that, a capacity for sensing and moving in the flow of what's good for the whole.
Now, others in the nature realm have told you that this is part of the grand scheme for humans to get so out of whack that you take things to the limit of free will, and there's something good in this. I would say there's only something good in it if something good comes of it, even if that's just some realization. But I have been a nature/human hybrid being for thousands of years, and I have tracked the human world much more closely than most plants have. And I think it's very possible for societies and individuals to get so off track and unable to correct their course that you really can't say much is being learned. It feels like an emotional desert, where even those who are most actively steering things in mischievous ways are not benefitting from their experience. I'm talking about corporate CEOs that are totally corrupt, as well as everyday people that are beating their wives and so forth. When things spin too far a certain way, it's just accumulating karma. It's heading off track even farther from what could possibly be useful and beneficial in experience. I'm prejudiced, I realize—I'm just a flower. But this is what I see: for some decades now, you've been headed this way. And it's very hard for you to be part of this culture and not feel like you are supposed to somehow swing it back, or fix it, or else just go into despair, which you often do. And I want to talk about another way, the way of joy.
I just happen to be in love with you and want this—but I think you can accomplish a whole lot more through joy than you can through playing the game by the rules set forth for you, even by those who are sincerely trying hard to change things in a human way. If you maintain an experience of joy in spite of the chaos, from my point of view—and again, I've seen a lot—you've done more for the whole than you could do otherwise. Given how degraded and incredibly corrupt things are becoming . . . you know, it's getting bad. And that's all the more reason—and I'm very serious about this—to hold fast to things like love, beauty and joy, because then you are living the alternative. You're not fighting on the same level as the disintegration and degradation.
There are several letters you've been thinking of writing to your senators, Cathee, and one's been sitting in your computer for a long time without you finishing it. There's nothing wrong with writing those letters. But I'm saying, your sitting by the river talking to a daisy is much more powerful than spending your time writing those letters. It's what you're feeling and being that matters. Sometimes dead tissue can just be sloughed off, like a snake going through rebirth. And I think basically that's what's going to happen, when things morph around to such a state of death. I'm not talking about death in a natural, beautiful sense, but in terms of there being nothing to hold things together. Then they fall back into the mix. They compost. And it's not like you have to make them fall. They are falling. And the more you pay attention to them, the more you're preventing a natural bending back, going back to the compost bin in the sky, if you will.
Since I am not the least bit afraid of death and this falling, and a gathering of experience in the seed, I speak with some authority on this. There are times when we know as daisies that the experience we have gathered for a season is not a good one. For instance, when we come in contact with herbicides and we are damaged, we do not want our seeds passed on. It's similar to how you in your twenties, Cathee, when you had chronic fatigue and depression, felt like you should not have kids—that something was wrong with you. Then you realized everybody else was crazy in causing environmental illness, and you were actually sane.
So there is an art to focussing on the seeds that are ripe and delicious, that have possibilities for the future. And just letting go of the ones that are already rotting, and doing your best to make sure that they don't find fertile ground. This is how I see your civilization: that basically at this point, despite all the idealism that came from the founding fathers and so forth, things have gotten rotten. And I don't think the seed of this civilization is one that should be allowed to find fertile ground. I think you'll agree with me. It's been a very long time since the human ones on this planet—at least in the mainstream cultures—have been in touch with the inner compass of which I speak. Of their being who they are, instead of being who they're expected to be by each other, and then nobody knows where that all started.
Cathee, you have been very faithful at pursuing being who you are and doing what you feel led to do. And I cherish you and others who do this so much. And it seems the more you do this, the more you're not much a part of your culture any more.
If you want to send political letters, do. But get down here to the river as much as you can, and let's find that joy I'm talking about.
[That bubble in the stream is perfect. Oh, there goes the sun.]
I'm not saying most individuals are so bad, but it doesn't matter. They're going down with whatever they're buying into.
We're seeding experience between a flower and a human. If there's anything useful to be taken from this culture, you are holding that experience within yourself, so in my view you represent a possible seed. You are mingling with me, and I am a non-human, obviously. Together we can be the balance. You are a human, and I know how to seed. I understand the seeding process, how to nurture you, and bring you to fruit. Bring you home, so to speak. I can seed with you. I'm talking about seeding experience so that when this civilization falls into the ground, quite literally, there will be a continuity of what this culture was about. So that when all is said and done, the whole thing won't have been a waste, to put it bluntly.
Again, I have been through this so many times with humans. There's usually—although not always—someone in a culture who manages to stay conscious no matter what. And they don't do this by being the smartest and the most competent (I love that word) within their society. They manage this by staying true to their own colors, like a diamond that's very hard and still shines even in the mud, even in the confusion. (Nothing wrong with mud! Bad analogy.) They stay pure and clear and beautiful. Sometimes they really shine because their diamond is so buffed by adverse conditions, and there's such a contrast to what's around them, that they really stand out. Other times they're quite unobtrusive. They're just doing what they do, and finding joy and delight, and that energy is powerful. Whether or not they are ever famous in their own culture, their light shines. For some of them, it doesn't really matter whether or not they affect their culture. What matters is being in their very being a seed. Gathering experience.
[Daisy's gorgeous. Good, I glad I'm one of those that just gets to see how gorgeous she is.]
Some of those never become known. And that's fine because their seed goes into the inner dimensions, and it will bear fruit. And so their life of obscurity may in the long run have much more impact on the deva of humanity, if you put it that way, than even the life of someone like Martin Luther King, Jr.
If your life and the life of this civilization were to all end today, the planet would live on. And civilizations are portable between planets, so even the end of a planet does not necessarily mean the end of a civilization. If it were to all end today, what would live on? I think this is good news I'm telling you. I think you have had an assumption that the corruption would live on. You have this idea of karma, that what you create even culturally, you're gonna have to pay for. That implies that all seeds get planted in the future. But what strands are worth pursuing, and what are not? It doesn't all live on. What's bankrupt is bankrupt, and sometimes it just can't be revived, and there's no reason for anyone to put any energy into it. It's like some of your digital photos that just need to be trashed, and you can waste a lot of time on them, when they just don't have enough there to be worked up into a beautiful photograph. So, I see this as really good news that at this point you can just say, OK, let's trash this one. And the corruption is certainly to the point (and has been for a long time) where that's a real appropriate response. You have this idea that you have to build something to replace it if you're gonna trash it. And I'm here to say no. Not necessary. What's necessary is for you and I to have these conversations by the river.
So here we sit along the river. And in this sitting, and merging, and pulling forth of perception and insight and joy, this is the new seed. We could get into conversing about details of your life and the culture and all of that. But maybe it's just as well that this is mainly it, as far as looking at what's dying.
[These bubbles are beautiful.]
We're not just seeding humanity. We're seeding weness.
from Daisy on Cultural Human Seeds to:
© Cathee Courter and Peter MacGill, photos and text.
Copies may be distributed with credit given, but not sold.