animals


The path I attempted to reclaim.

I have always liked garden worms, I even maintained several tropical red worm farms both personally and in a NYC primary school. Of course non-tropical earthworms are not quite the same, they are bigger and more pink than the red tropical worms.

In any case, I was attempting to reclaim a concrete path from the encroaching grass and weeds, when I came across what appeared to be a garden worm. It looked like a perfectly ordinary earthworm but a bit stiffer in the body because of the cold weather and had a darker redder stripe running down each side. I have seen that in the past; the worm’s body not being as flexible in the cold. I lifted the worm and placed it about 10 inches in from the place I was clearing. Generally when I place a worm away from where I am gardening it merely burrows into the soil and goes about its business.

The place where the angry aberrant worm reappeared.

A few minutes later the worm reappeared in front of me. It was angry. It had eyes and a mouth open. It lifted its head in front of me and seemed to be yelling at me, but of course, there was no sound.  I never saw eyes and a mouth on an earthworm, but its body still looked like a normal 6 inch earthworm. What was it? Tiny snake? What kind? It had no legs so not a reptile of any sort (chameleon, skink, etc.). It was fairly cold out, not over 50 degrees Fahrenheit. Was it a cryptid? Was it a shamanic vision? It was as real to me as the dirt on my hands. I was so freaked out I fled the scene. The vision is burned in my mind.

My depiction of the worm could not accurately show the mouth, which looked angrier and displayed a toothless gum ridge. Otherwise it is fairly accurate.

Unusual heretofore unknown fact: The common earthworm can live to be six years old.

Fahrusha is the co-host of “Shattered Reality Podcast” and a professional intuitive.

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There is a lot of discussion in the media about gender dysphoria. This blog post does not intend to make light of the subject, but this post is largely not about gender dysphoria. Tangentially it does play a small part. I was listening to an interview with a prominent paranormal thinker who noticed that oftentimes psychic readers, professional intuitives, and paranormal practitioners come from the population of marginalized individuals and communities. He particularly mentioned those in the LGBTQ community and the gender dysphoric. This may be true, but a large number of readers and psychics I am acquainted with are straight females, myself included. But this is not the actual topic of this post. And a hearty welcome to those intuitives from that community!

On a page on FaceBook, I made some disparaging remark about the destructiveness of the human race on the planet Earth. I was not faulting any particular person or group. A man with whom I am vaguely familiar, shot back at me something to the effect that he was tired of all the self-flagellating whiners like me. This surprised me deeply, not because he was critical of my stance, I rather expect that. It surprised me because it revealed something to me about myself, of which I was not so acutely aware. Something that I doubt he could have imagined. I did not think I was self-flagellating in the least because somewhere in my mind I do not identify with being human. I do identify with being in an animal body. I eat and like to have shelter and have sexual thoughts like humans and other mammals. I speak a human language but have as much kinship with cats and trees as humans. I also have what appears to be a human body and I often wear clothes. I wish all humans well and sincerely hope for a positive solution to human problems, but I don’t think that it looks at all promising. I have thought to blame my Neanderthal genes for seeing humans as destructive, but confidantes have laughed at that. It does make some sense to me that ancestral memories of Cro-Magnons invading and destroying the lifestyle of some of my predecessors could be a cause. This could jibe with seeing humans as “others”. By the way, one of those confidantes refers to himself as a Yeti (you know who you are). 🙂

Others have kindly suggested that perhaps this species dysphoria is because I am highly evolved spiritually. Personally I doubt it. Although I do think I subscribe to Robert Monroe’s primary statement, “You are more than your physical body.” And I do appreciate the approach of some North American indigenous people in envisioning other species as brothers and sisters and seeing the environment as sacred.

So many people who align themselves with spirituality or religion view things from a human-only point of view, seeking to reach an anthropomorphic Godhead of some sort, believing that a Supreme One somehow sets mankind on some evolutionary pinnacle as more important than other terrestrial beings. They also think that if angels or extraterrestrials or discarnate beings exist, that those beings wish to communicate specifically and only with humans. This hubris astounds me. Perhaps they’d rather communicate with rocks.

I think a whole lot more could be learned about paranormal phenomena if seen from a position that is non-species specific. We all operate some of the time on a subjective basis; the “it’s all about me” stance that some never have moved beyond, ever. So it is natural that as a group humans might view all intelligent paranormal phenomena as being about humans and directed towards humans. Now conversely, I do think that it is highly possible that some paranormal phenomena originates with individuals (human or animal or plant or non-respirating), but please note that a substantial portion of those humans in the modern era, who have displayed psychokinetic abilities, attribute them to extraterrestrials. Make of that what you wish.

Is this post somewhat tongue in cheek? I’m not sure and neither are you.

Fahrusha is an intuitive reader and co-host of “Shattered Reality Podcast.”

J.S. shortly after arrival.

J.S. shortly after arrival.

J.S. was born a feral cat in a colony of feral cats fed by a kind cat lover. He is all black, except for a few white hairs where one might imagine a belly button, and very soft. One day when he was a kitten I am told he was hit by a car but survived. The kind cat lady took him into her home, thought “he” was a “she”, nurtured him back to health and gave him up for adoption at a PetSmart store. There he was discovered to be a boy and neutered.

One day when J.S. was about four months old I entered his life. I had come back to PetSmart a number of times to see a strikingly handsome tiger boy cat who was about 8 months old. Two sisters were manning (or womanning) the adoption area. These two volunteers are great cat lovers, I was to find out. They introduced me to the tiger boy cat who was rather too pugnacious to adapt easily to my home and the big ginger tom that already owned the space. But they wanted me to meet J.S. who was very shy and huddled in his enclosure.

I petted him and he trembled a bit, and I said to myself “why not?” and paid the adoption fee and took him to meet the big ginger tom (herein after referred to as BGT). J.S. lived in the bathroom for a couple of days so the cats could take in each other’s scent. After releasing J.S. he hid a lot for the first few weeks, but it was clear he was enamored with BGT. BGT did not attack J.S. and allowed him to eat, but hissed and batted him if he came too close.

Big Ginger Tomcat

Big Ginger Tomcat

Flash forward a bit over two years: situation mostly unchanged. J.S. is aloof towards most people and hides when company comes. BGT still hisses and bats. J.S. still exhibits devotion to BGT and follows him around. BGT spends the night close to me on my bed. I’m sure he thinks it is his bed. J.S. often waits until BGT is sound asleep and sneaks in next to him on the bed. If he is lucky BGT doesn’t notice him and J.S. is very happy and purring, but more often he sleeps on the windowsill near the bed. J.S. is now nearly as big as BGT and frankly a bit chubby.

J.S. sneaking up on BGT

J.S. sneaking up on BGT

I woke up one morning a couple of days ago and surveyed my surroundings, seeing J.S. on the windowsill looking in my direction and BGT sleeping against my hip. Then I thought my thoughts. J.S. is probably hoping I’ll get up and feed him, little fatty. I wonder if he likes me at all? He is probably only in my room because this is where BGT sleeps. I wonder if he will ever be loving towards me.

I hadn’t moved yet at all except for opening my eyes. At that moment J.S. walked over to the head of my bed and jumped on board settling himself under my armpit and kissing my nose. He stayed there for ten minutes until I had to get up and begin my day.  He had never done that before. Who says cats aren’t telepathic?

The bear dog Magericyon anceps by Mauricio Anton.

The bear dog Magericyon anceps by Mauricio Anton.

Some years ago in the late ’80s, I predicted that biologists and geneticists would be able to breed mammoths and possibly mastodons by using frozen DNA which would be found in the Arctic regions. I wrote a blog piece which touched on this a while back: https://fahrusha.wordpress.com/2011/01/24/mammoth-prediction/

Recently I found another article confirming my old prediction: http://www.theguardian.com/science/2013/jul/31/woolly-mammoth-dna-cloning 

I was initially planning to add the above link to the Guardian article to my old post “A Mammoth Prediction”. But early Saturday morning August 3, 2013, I had a super-real dream, which was also a lucid dream. A being with a deep male voice spoke to me about extinct mammals of Europe. He spoke to me in English and in German and said he was the (over-soul of the) Bear-Dog and would like to be revived in the same manner as the wooly mammoth might be revived. Now mind you, this was a lucid dream, and my conscious mind was somewhat functional. The only two extinct mammals of Europe that I could think of while dreaming were the saber-tooth tiger and the aurochs, but I could not in this lucid dream state think of the word “aurochs”, though I tried. The being was looking somewhat bearlike and ferocious, but oddly, I had absolutely no fear of it and actually felt something of a bond with it.

When I got up on Saturday morning I decided to search the internet to find a description of the aurochs and did, but that was not the being in my vision. Strangely I did find an extinct mammal of Europe called the bear-dog! I had had no previous idea that such an animal ever existed. The illustration above is an artist’s depiction of what such an animal might look like. My bear-dog was somewhat huskier or fatter and had darker fur, but otherwise was very similar. I’m not entirely sure of what to make of this experience, but it was very exhilarating to find confirmation of my vision on the internet. The fact that he also spoke German to me was interesting and may point to either the animal after which Berlin was named, or indicate that the bear-dog’s range included German-speaking Europe.

So “Word up” paleontological geneticists! How about reviving my friend, the bear-dog?

Fahrusha is an intuitive reader in New York City and an avid lucid dreamer. She can be contacted by email at: fahrusha@fahrusha.com

A female human receiving inspiration. From an oracle deck called The Rainbow Bridge Tarot by visionary artist Lauren Raine. See end of article for link to this deck.

Sometimes while in a light meditative state certain things occur to me out of the blue. I have learned to pay attention to these unusual but seemingly random thoughts. Sometimes these thoughts are about my health and my body and I feel these thoughts may not originate in my brain but in my body parts and they are sent to the brain where they are brought gently into my awareness.

This idea is given life by studies which indicate that other organs, principally the heart, have their own intelligence and by other findings about the amazing awareness of certain animals without highly developed brains in the mammalian sense, such as the squid and octopus.

The first memorable incident of this odd personal medical intuition came a number of years ago when I was diagnosed with mildly elevated cholesterol levels at a rather young age. In my case this is not primarily a lifestyle and diet problem but a hereditary issue. I was musing over this situation and it occurred to me somewhat out of the blue that I should eat eggplant everyday for lunch. I was even given a recipe: make a slice halfway through the eggplant after washing it and cutting off the stem. Do not remove the skin of the eggplant. Put a couple of cloves of peeled garlic into the slice. Wrap the eggplant in aluminum foil and bake in the oven until soft. Remove from the oven and mash the eggplant and garlic adding cayenne pepper. Salt is allowed. Put on Scandinavian style whole grain flat bread and eat. Do not use any oil at all.

I followed this pretty faithfully every day for about a month. I went back to have my blood tested and discovered that my cholesterol levels had dropped by over 30 points! I gave my recipe to a number of people including my father and his brother, my uncle. My uncle said he had added this food to his diet and also experienced a drop in his levels. Though both men are now deceased, neither died of heart or circulatory disease and both lived into their late eighties and both had hereditary high cholesterol. My father did not take statins and neither did my uncle to my knowledge.

I personally still prepare this recipe and find it healthful, although I must admit I do not eat it often enough. I was shown a scene from inside my body by Spirit (I guess) in which I saw the eggplant in my intestine pulling fat molecules from my intestine wall. Recently I read about a new medical discovery that uncovered dried apples as a food that reduces cholesterol levels in women. I imagine that the mechanism is similar.

Warning: I am not a medical professional. This account is anecdotal.

Another instance of this odd intuition came to me some years ago while I was cleaning my ears in the manner one is cautioned against- with a Q-tip! I had noticed for awhile (this is sort of gross) that my earwax was copious and oily. All of a sudden this thought popped into my mind (almost verbatim): “This is probably not a good sign, the next thing you know ‘they’ll’ (researchers) probably say that this kind of earwax predicts a susceptibility to breast cancer.” A month or two later I read just such an article in a magazine. Thankfully I no longer have this sort of earwax.

Most recently I noticed skin tags (acrochorda) in one of my armpits. These are little bits of extra skin which are raised from the surface. In my case they were more annoying than disfiguring. I went to a dermatologist who cut them off and biopsied them. No problem, but then they grew back. More annoying after spending a considerable sum to remove them. Again an idea popped into my mind. Put tea tree (Melaleuca Alternifolia) oil and thuva oil on them regularly. I do not like the smell of thuva as much as tea tree oil so I began applying tea tree oil to the tags every morning after washing. At this point I am happy to say they are nearly gone. At some point during my self imposed treatment I decided to check on the internet for natural remedies for skin tags and also to see if what I was doing would be deemed safe. Both tea tree oil and thuva oil are prominently mentioned as remedies but the kicker is that there is a product for sale, by Dermisil, a proprietary formula of sorts for skin tags whose primary ingredients are…you guessed it…tea tree oil and thuva oil.

Now these experiences are not radical. My being is not taken over by the entity of the famous Doctor Fritz (an extraordinarily compelling story). My guess is that this is my own body speaking to me. Other plausible theories would include that these messages come from my higher self, the collective unconscious or universal mind (God), or a disembodied entity (back to Doctor Fritz).

While I have not come up with the cure for all disease I am sure that humanity could lessen suffering thru banning nuclear reactors (The unresolved Fukishima incident will cause millions of cancer deaths in the next twenty years.) and having much more respect for Our Mother Earth.

Postscript: To learn more about the Rainbow Bridge Tarot click the link.

In answering the comments on the previous post, I was reminded of an amazing cat story in which I participated briefly. This happened in New York City’s East Village circa 1990. A woman, an artist, who is now deceased lived across the hall from me with her husband and a cat named Bass. It was a sixth floor walk-up with an elevator that sometimes worked. I did occasional readings for the woman in exchange for a glass of wine. We were sort of friends. I had a special relationship with the cat and would read him from time to time by petting him and mentally asking him questions, to which he would answer directly to my mind very clearly. I would convey this information to the woman, who would then generally do what the cat required.

One evening the woman told me how the cat had come to live with her. It was a cold winter night as she made her way home. When she got a few steps from the doorway of the tenement, she became aware of the cat meowing pitifully behind her. She bent down and petted his shivering body, promising to bring him a can of cat food when she got up to her apartment to fetch it. I think the woman had once had another cat that had passed on some years previously and she remembered the lingering can in her cupboard.

She unlocked the two bullet-proof glass doors that separated the January chill from the steam heat. The elevator worked that evening and sped her to the sixth floor. After unlocking the door to her tiny home, she put down her handbag on the kitchen table and fetched the promised can from the cupboard and headed back to the door of her apartment two steps away with the intention of bringing down the cat a nice supper.

Imagine her surprise when upon opening the door who ran into her apartment but the very cat! She hadn’t let him in and he wasn’t in the elevator with her, so it was rather mysterious how he had gotten in and found her door on the sixth floor so quickly. But it was clear that the cat was at home so she allowed him to stay, especially since her husband, a musician, was out of town on a gig.

Several nights later when her husband was still away, the woman had a startling dream, almost a nightmare, that filled her with awe. The cat came to her in a realistic dream as a giant cat-headed figure larger than a human, and in a deep and resonant voice that shook her body, proclaimed, “I am Bass!” or at least that is what she heard. So naturally she called the cat Bass. And Bass became an accepted member of the household.

Now the woman, an artist, as I had mentioned previously, was an intelligent college educated person, but apparently never studied any ancient Egyptian mythology, because when I asked her if she was certain that the cat in her dream said Bass and not BAST she looked at me blankly and said something like, “I think so, what difference does it make?” I found it remarkable that she had never heard of BAST.

BAST is/was the protector Goddess of lower Egypt, where cats were worshipped and none so much as BAST. She is a glorious cat-headed woman in some renderings while in others a proud lioness or an elegant cat. The town of Boubastis in the Nile Delta was her sacred place.

Now the problem with this whole story is that BAST is a Goddess and Bass was a male cat, yet I feel sure that the woman had a visitation from the Goddess BAST. I told her so and though she mulled it over in her mind, I remain unconvinced that she was duly impressed with the divine encounter she had been privileged to receive.

Several months later, it came out in a reading that the woman and her husband would be moving to California. She requested I ask Bass if he would be pleased with the move. I held the cat on my lap and questioned him. He was alarmed. He did not want to go under any circumstances. A couple of months later they moved to LA taking Bass with them, in my opinion, against his will. About two weeks after the move, I found out later, the cat got out of the house and was promptly run over.

BAST (courtesy of Wikipedia Commons)

One morning last week I woke up from a dream. The dream was weird and definitely in color. A certain large male orange cat of my acquaintance was prominently featured. In the dream I had filled a big sparkling white bathroom basin with cold water from the tap. The cat, who likes to put his paw in water and bat it, began doing so and then jumped in. Soon he put his head under the water too. Then, completely submerged, he tried to go to the bottom of the basin in order to breathe through the drain which was gurgling. I tried to pull him out but I could not do so. He remained at the bottom of the basin near the drain and seemed to be clinging to it trying to breathe. I was very upset about the cat in my dream.

Then I woke up and began to mull over the meaning of my dream. I opened my eyes and my long thin dark tan arm reached for the apricot stucco wall in the soft evening light. Whoa! I began to freak out! I do not have a long thin tan arm or an apricot stucco wall. Splat! I was pulled back into my chubbier whiter body and it was still the middle of the night (or at least still dark out) and I could see the outlines of my bookcase where the apricot stucco wall had been. I had experienced a false awakening while dreaming.

This has happened to me before but what stood out about this instance was that during my false awakening I was thinking about my previous dream about the cat. This may be a first for me to be actively thinking about and trying to figure out a previous dream while still dreaming.

Wikipedia defines A false awakening as “a vivid and convincing dream about awakening from sleep, while the dreamer in reality continues to sleep.”  I often have false awakenings in which I am awake in my real surroundings and get up and do something reasonably mundane and then realize that my physical body is still in the bed. These may also be spontaneous out of body experiences. But I can’t remember being in another body that felt like a real body in another room that looked real in which I was also thinking about my previous dream in a rational logical way.

It so happens that two days later out of the blue the orange cat went into a bad state of being, sitting by himself and hiding. The following day he was observed to be dripping a bloody substance from his rear quarters and was taken to the veterinarian where he was diagnosed with a urinary blockage in his urethra. His bladder was the size of a grapefruit and his kidneys were affected. He stayed at the animal clinic for several days. His condition was touch and go. When he was released back into the custody of his loving owners they were admonished to see that he drank more water and to add water to his food.

It seems to me that the dream was a premonition of the cat’s illness. He was in tip top shape at the time of the dream and did not begin to show any signs that anything was wrong until two days passed. My question is what was the dream telling me? If it was a premonition why was I unable to help? I have never dreamt of this cat before, so why now? Interestingly I feel I might not have remembered the dream if it weren’t for the false awakening.

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