Author Archives: Dana Taylor

Nov 21 2011

Butterfly Angels of Joplin, MO

Dana by Dana Taylor

UPDATE: May 23, 2012: I first posted this blog in November of 2011. Since then, it has been viewed nearly everyday by multiple people. Obviously, the world is interested in angels!  My admiration goes out to the folks of Joplin, MO, who have picked themselves up, dusted themselves off, and started all over again. And we join them in missing the loved ones that were lost. 

Last night the CBS evening news ended with a feature on the “Butterfly Angels” of Joplin, MO. It’s been six months since a  massive tornado tore across the plain, sending cars, homes, and trees tumbling into chaos and destruction. In the midst of that fury, some people sensed the presence of spiritual helpers. Many children reported seeing big “butterflies.” From the blogsite All About Boomers comes this description on the June 30th post:

As the tornado approached, a father and his two young children were outside in their yard. They did not have enough time to get in to the house for cover.  The father of the kids threw himself on top of his babies and they were on the ground.  The father dug his hands into the ground as the tornado plowed right over them. The soles of the shoes he was wearing, ripped right off.  He LOST the Soles to his SHOES!  Amazing!  The father and the children stood up, after the tornado moved on, UNHARMED.  The 4-year-old little girl looked at her daddy and said “Daddy I saw that big butterfly holding you down”. Think about that…

The other story they told me was of a young boy was swept up by the tornado and dropped back to the ground.  As he was unharmed he told his mom “I saw butterflies and a white puppy”.

The CBS story, Butterfly is a Symbol of Hope in Joplin, MO, featured a cheerleader, Emily, and her mother who were tossed around in their SUV by the storm. But as they found shelter in a damaged building, Emily said she felt a comforting presence.

 “I remember on this shoulder a hand touched me like right here,” she said, “and they told me everything was going to be OK.”

 As Joplin is on the mend, its children have found their own symbols of hope.

 “It’s actually really weird,” said Emily, “but ever since then, I’ll be walking outside and a butterfly will come and land on me … like on my arm or on my back.

The residents of Joplin have painted a beautiful Butterfly Angel Mural to commemorate their  experience.

Update May 23, 2012–After the original post appeared, I received this note from Joplin, MO resident Linda Henderson recounting her experience the day of the big twister:

After going through this horrific storm I can tell you that but for the grace of God there would have been a lot more deaths. My entire apartment complex, and there were at least 350 people living there was virtually wiped out. We only lost one lady. Most of the places that were left were the areas where the people were, the closet, the stairwell and the bathroom. We were in the eye of the tornado, so we went through the front and back side when it was an EF5. It was an experience I don’t care to repeat.

I was in my hallway closet. My daughter’s family lived on the other side of the complex in an upstairs apartment and they rode it out with about twelve people under the stairs in the hallway downstairs. I had a downstairs apartment. The one over me was totally gone. The one across the hall from me was totally gone. It took them a while to get me out of my apartment because I’m disabled with RA so I needed help to climb out over the debris. My poor daughter sent her husband over to see if I was alive while it was still hailing and lightning really bad. I could hear him calling for me over the noise of the hail and rain. At least I knew at that point that they were all alive.

My poor youngest daughter and her family were in a neighboring town and she had called me right as I was diving into the closet and at that point I told her the windows were blowing out of the apartment and we were definitely getting hit hard. Right before we lost cell phone towers I yelled at her that I loved her and seriously I thought that would be the last time I ever spoke to her. She was so scared. They started back here and when they got as close as they could all you could see was devastation. We couldn’t get a message through to her that we were all alive. She started digging through the apartment looking for me, I can only imagine how devastating this was for her.  In a way, she’s had a tougher time dealing than we have. Her house had some damage, but it was livable. I live with her now. Believe me, there isn’t any rental property in town at this point. We are a strong city though and we will survive. Our faith is strong and I know that will carry us through. Thank you for listening.

Thanks for sharing, Linda!

Blessings to everyone in Joplin!

Dana Taylor

Ever3 Ever-Flowing Streams: Christ, Reiki, Reincarnation & Me

Nov 18 2011

The Supernal Approach to Birth & Death

Entering and exiting life isn’t easy. Learning to work with the Ever-Flowing Streams :Tapping Into Healing Energy can make the journey smoother.

As my daughter, Sara, neared the delivery of her first child three years ago, we made sure I arrived in St. Louis a few days before her due date. A few days turned into three weeks. The final stages of pregnancy are a trial–uncomfortable in every way. Images of beached whales come to mind. Aching back, swollen legs, internal plumbing challenges, false contractions. Ugh. Sara was grateful for her mama’s healing hands. Back and foot rubs, soothing essential oils and energy treatments got her through.

“Mom,” she has said, “I’m so grateful you were there during those last days.” I was in the delivery room, too, sending energy into every contraction of a 27 hour labor. Of course, the prize was well worth it. Our darling, Will, is the light of our lives.

Exiting life can also require much caregiving. The worth of sending healing energy is beyond measure. Both my parents had long goodbyes. Their dining room was transformed into a hospice room, complete with a hospital bed and walker. During one week of 2007, my Dad charged through the stages of dying laid out in the hospice pamphlet. Despite morphine and growing weakness, he exhibited obvious pain by thrashing and calling for help. I was an energy worker on the front lines.

Interestingly, I used the same techniques to usher him out of the world–foot rubs, essential oils, energy treatments–as I used to coax my grandson into life.  At the height of Dad’s discomfort, I stood at his head and prayed calming energy into his body until he quieted into sleep. I’m grateful that I had been shown the tools of energy work and prayer to ease him through the passage. My husband and I watched Dad take his last breaths in the home he had loved for so long. His spirit appeared to float out of his lips and towards heaven.

In a few months, I look forward to welcoming Will’s little sister into this world. There are bound to be plenty of back rubs and energy treatments for her mama before delivery day. The wheel of life will continue when Little Sister takes that first gulp of air and begins her earthly journey.

I can hardly wait to show her life as a grand Supernal Adventure!

Read more about incorporating proactive prayer and energy work into your daily life in Ever-Flowing Streams: Tapping into Healing Energy. Paperback version available at Lulu.com http://bit.ly/1ad01q7   ebook at Amazon http://amzn.to/HSovEs

Tapping400

Nov 8 2011

Soul Families

Soul families. An interesting concept. Through years of metaphysical reading, the idea pops up time and again. Not only are we eternal souls having a human experience (that old saw); we are part of soul families who often incarnate together. There are certain people you meet and feel you have known them forever, and, well—you have.

Think about it—aren’t there a few people in your life with whom you share a special bond? No matter how much times goes by between visits, you are comfortable together and intimate conversation is effortless. Maybe you had a some-enchanted-evening sort of meeting where you instantly recognized them across a crowded room. And I’m not talking necessarily about a romantic connection.

One such person in my life is Thom. Our mothers worked together at General Motors years before we were born. We met in the third grade. I have a clear memory of him pushing a spelling test in my direction to help me with the word “since.”

 In high school we had many classes together and happily became Drama Freaks. One show after another. White shoe polish in our hair playing old people. Me in a buck skin shirt dressed as Calamity Jane singing duets with his Wild Bill Hickok. Private jokes. We bought season tickets to the best shows in Los Angeles and saw Angela Lansbury, Katherine Hepburn, Debbie Reynolds, Lauren Bacall, Liza Minelli—live! Romance was never in the cards, so we didn’t have to break each other’s hearts as a rite of passage. We were just the best of friends.

After high school we went our separate ways, but always kept in touch. He became a flight attendant. I ended up in Oklahoma, married, and raised my family for thirty years. Somewhere in the early 80’s, we lost touch. The faithful birthday and Christmas cards from him stopped. My cards were returned addressee unknown. Life was busy, but as time went by, I became convinced Thom must have perished in the AIDS epidemic. Other friends hadn’t heard from him either and had drawn the same conclusion. The thought of Thom enduring the stages of AIDS made me exceedingly sad, but I tucked Thom into the recesses of bygone days.

Except in my dreams. Over the course of the next twenty-five years I had recurring Thom Dreams. They were always different, yet similar. I would suddenly be in a room and see Thom. Usually he was unfolding clothes from a suitcase.

I’d walk up to him, over-joyed and then highly irritated. “You’re alive! Where have you been? Why haven’t I heard from you? We all thought you were dead!”

He never replied. Usually he stood still, maybe a bit puzzled, and totally ignored me. One especially vivid dream featured a bank of windows looking out over the night line of a big city, fully lit and breathtaking. The room had two beds.

Years went by between dreams, but they always startled me out of my sleep and were unusually memorable.

Fast forward to December 2006. By then, I had met Helen, my Reiki therapist, seen Paula healed from an incurable disease, been attuned, anointed and what have you. The Supernal Adventures were well under way. (See EVER-FLOWING STREAMS).

Helen is also a certified Akashic Records reader (that’s a story for another day). Sue had an appointment to have her records read. The day before the appointment, I had another Thom Dream. This time he was in a living room with white couches and potted plants tastefully lining the walls. I went into the same rant—“We thought you were dead! Why haven’t I heard from you?”

I called Sue. “Listen, when you talk to Helen, ask her if Thom is dead or alive. This is driving me crazy!”

So Sue asked. Helen said, “I am sensing his energy and it isn’t the type of someone who has passed over. I think he’s still alive. But, he’s been far away.”

What??? We were so positive he was dead. Well, it took less than five minutes and a Google search to find him. We were both once again living in the LA area.

Through phone calls, Facebook, and emails we’ve been in contact, but life has been busy. Finally, last weekend we had a real reunion doing our favorite thing—going to the theater.

We talked and talked. Catching up, yet feeling that special no-time-has-passed connection.

Thom is part of my soul family. Those dreams? Perhaps astral projection to some hotel room where Thom was between flights?  Maybe. That’s fodder for another blog.

All I know is–once he was lost, but now he is found. Soul families? I am a believer.

Oct 12 2011

Chiming in on Rob Bell’s LOVE WINS

Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever LivedOnce in a while a book comes along that gets people all riled up, bringing forth either enthusiastic praise or vehement wrath. Such a book is LOVE WINS: A BOOK ABOUT HEAVEN, HELL, AND THE FATE OF EVERY PERSON WHO EVER LIVED by Rob Bell. Check out the 563 customer reviews at Amazon to get a flavor of the furor.

Bell is the founding pastor of the Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He bears a respectable educational pedigree from Wheaton College and Fuller Theological Seminary. So what has he done to cause such a stir? The buzz claimed “Rob Bell says there is no hell.”

To many outside the church such a belief solicits a “So what, who cares?” response. But to the thousands of believers who define their faith on the tenet of eternal damnation unless one makes a public profession of faith in Jesus Christ, them is fightin’ words.

I decided I needed to read the book and judge for myself. This was my first exposure to Bell, who is surely an engaging speaker. The style of the book reads like an interesting sermon series. It begs to be read aloud. The placement of words on the page is often poetical.

For emphasis.

Rather than a pedantic expression of his opinions, Bell asks a lot of questions about the basic beliefs of scores of Protestant churches. He is logical—and disturbing. If God is an “all loving Father,” then how can he cast his children into everlasting fire? Hmmm.

For Bell, the question isn’t so much about what happens “over there,” but what is happening “here.” Is there a hell? Open the newspaper, read about the wars, famine, mass executions in Mexico, the domestic violence, sexual slavery. Hell? Why sure.  It is here and now.

The real question is how to bring forth “Your Will on Earth as it is in Heaven” as envisioned in the Lord’s Prayer. Bell’s answer is coming into relationship with the living Christ. The expansive, can’t-be-contained or-totally-understood Messenger of the Good News.

Bell speaks to the disenfranchised, the people turned off by the fire and brimstone message. He breaks down the dogmatic walls. For those comfortably dwelling within those walls, he is a heretic. For those outside the walls, he offers hope.

Oct 8 2011

When Women Share A Vision

The Nobel committee got it right this year awarding  Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah Gbowee, and Tawakkul Karman the 2011  Nobel Peace Prize.  While the US was heading into a decade of war in 2001, the women of Liberia decided two decades of an insane, deadly power struggle was enough. Leymah Gbowee describes the poignant moment of decision in the excellent documentary, PRAY THE DEVIL BACK TO HELL . After she and her children ran for their lives, her little boy said he wanted a donut.

A donut. A simple request. An impossible request in a city torn apart by gun-toting fools.

Gbowee had a new vision that day, a vision of a peaceful Liberia, a vision of women leading the way. Change begins with one person’s vision, followed by determination and leadership. Like Betty Williams and Mairead Corrigan of Belfast, Ireland thirty years earlier, the women of Liberia came together and placed their country on a new path of peace. They even elected the first female African president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, who is sharing the prize.

Meanwhile, it is a woman, Tawakkul Karman, who is leading the Arab Spring in Yemen. She is not only taking on a repressive dictatorship, but a repressive culture. She is very much in the thick-of-it, currently living in a tent in the epicenter of the revolt in her country.

When women take a stand for peace, they can change the world. I pray Mexico might be next, or even Los Angeles!

Oct 6 2011

Steve Jobs, A Cautionary Tale

A couple of days ago, Sue and I got together for a Supernal Session. These are times we meditate, pray and send healing energy to people and the planet. Each session is an adventure. We never know what might happen. Sue is growing increasingly clairaudient—she hears messages or receives blocks of information. Sometimes we pass them on; sometimes they are cryptic and we wonder what we’re supposed glean from them. This week she received “As Within, So Without.” It came through almost as a chant, aswithin, sowithout over and over. When the session was over, we Googled the phrase. Turns out an ancient Greek poet named Hermessianex penned it about 3,000 years ago.

Huh. Interesting. Obviously a referral to manifesting and “creating your own reality” as the current lingo goes. So, why now the message? No clue.

Until last night. I watched the coverage of Steve Jobs passing, knowing a huge influence on all our lives had departed. CNN played a lengthy clip of his 2005 commencement speech. He speaks of the power of death—“Death is the very likely best invention of life. All pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure, these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.” He also said he looked in the mirror  and asked him something to the effect “If this is my last day on earth, will I be spending my time doing what I think is truly important?” He said he asked himself that question every day and if the answer was “no” too many days in a row, he made a change in his activities.

Can you see how Steve Jobs set himself up for an eight year battle with pancreatic cancer? He imagined facing death every day. It was a motivational tool for him.

It ultimately became his reality. As Within, So Without.

Undoubtedly, the 2003 cancer diagnosis propelled Steve into action and changed our world with i-pods, i-phones, and i-pads.

But, it came at a high cost. A liver transplant is no walk in the park. Anti-rejection drugs can be debilitating. Only Steve and his family know the personal hell he walked through to keep his vision going. I wish someone had clued Steve in early on about the danger of his daily death battle. Surely there could have been some other powerful imagery to propel him to do great things.

So, Steve Jobs stands as a cautionary tale for me. A great visionary with the ability to manifest his best dreams and his worst fears.  As Within, So Without.