Pigeonholing: Creates the Pitfall of Autopilot

Posted on September 22, 2025 by Nicole Lawrence

I remember  in the early days of the human development and human potential movements we were often cautioned to stay away out of autopilot. So autopilot can happen when you take someone and put them in a pigeonhole and hold them and stick, it’s like saying all people with this characteristic are ___(fill in the blank). Often what goes in that blank is information that we’ve heard or learned from others growing up:family members, teachers,other kids we grew up with,their families, most often consisting of very limiting beliefs and derogatory points of views. 

The tendency is when you say all people are these people are “blank”is to stop thinking and rely on all of the information that you’ve assimilated over the years about that characteristic or that group of people comes to your mind and you begin to think and operate from those points of view and derogatory ideas.  You are not using your own intellect and discernment to communicate.  The pre assiimilated thoughts and feelings are flowing in an automatic way. Why it’s called autopilot so you’re no longer totally present making your own decisions. It takes a bit of effort to stay present and not go into autopilot.  

them in a group and then it’s a group that you often have many beliefs and conclusions already drawn and set in place. And when you say, oh, this person is just that and stick them in that and pigeonhole

them, then those patterns and beliefs and characteristics that you’ve assimilated over the years, they start acting and you’re no longer able to be present with that person or that individual as an individual and be there for them.

Because pigeonholing someone removes the ability to be present and to share your presence in a way that can have impact.

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THE FOURTH AND THE TWENTY-FIRST

Posted on June 24, 2025 by Nicole Lawrence

Growing up with money isn’t about being superior, better or smarter than others, it’s mostly about different lessons.

Looking back, I can pinpoint the start of my troubles with two innocuous, lower-case letters in the alphabet.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, the fourth and twenty-first letters in their small, non-commanding form resided at the beginning of my last name; the one I was born with.

    Being young, at first it seemed that it was just a peculiar name, with a spelling that was different from the average.  As time went on, I came to understand that the name duPont was perceived as something more than just an unusual spelling for a last name. 

    From the time I breathed into existence, duPont was a filter coloring my life.  It was like wearing lenses from day one, so that you are unaware of them until others point them out to you.  Later, you find you are treated differently because of them.  This filtering was not only from without, but also from within the family structure.  Both sides working away efficiently building and strengthening the gossamer perceptions until an unseen barrier was formed.  There were those in the family and those who were not.    

    A friend once pointed out to me that I always referred to the family, not my family.  And The Family it was, large and important, like The Business, The Corporation, The Vatican.  We even had a matriarch, my grandmother, (in this family, women were the strong ones).  But all of this understanding of the mystery and workings of life as a duPont was years into my future.  

    My current challenge was learning to read and write.  In the schoolroom where I learned the alphabet, the letters marched the length of the wall on a banner with little pictures under them. Below, the vowels were repeated.  It made perfect sense to me.  Words were made of hard parts, the consonants, and soft squishy parts in between, the vowels.  

    Our teacher was elderly, stout woman with a large hook nose that dragged down at the corners.  She was always saying, “sit up, you don’t want to grow up to be a hunch back, do you?”  Later she’d tell me, “If you keep picking your nose like that, it will be all misshapen when you grow up.”  I figured she knew from experience.

    After memorizing and mastering the alphabet, the first thing we learned to write were our names.  The teacher had us practice, our first and last name in big and small letters. That afternoon, when Mom picked me up, I showed her the yellow paper with my name carefully spelled out.  

    “Oh, honey.  Your last name isn’t spelled starting with a capital,” she said.  “The first two letters are small, and the P is big.  A large D means the company.  We are the family, and it is always spelled with a small d and u.”  She was emphatic, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you to spell it the other way.” 

    At a tender age, with those two little letters, I began to carve out my individuality, strengthen my stubborn will and at times butt heads with the world.  I was taught to be proud of my name and, with Mom’s coaching, take the spelling seriously.  As a small child, though, I had a hard time convincing teachers and form-fillers that I knew how to spell my own name.  I insisted on using the small du, and they insisted on correcting my misspelled name.  “All proper names begin with a capital letter.”  

    The name duPont, was well known in that part of the country, near Wilmington, Delaware where my great ancestors originally settled.  At the time I was too young to wonder why so many adults seemed befuddled by a name that began with two small letters and had a capital plunk in the middle of it.  I diligently stuck to my form of spelling.  I thought it was kind of cool to have a last name that didn’t follow the ordinary.

    Mostly I associated the effect of my name on others with annoying clashes over spelling, but there was a much greater impact that I was gradually waking up to.  The name duPont seemed to have a giant ship tethered to it that others could perceive, yet I had remained unaware of.  This ghost ship, a mirage of their own making, was laden with a bounty grown from their own imaginations.  

    Wherever I went, the apparition went with me; a child towing an ocean liner of possibilities.  Later, I learned to recognize the glazed look in eyes as the tumblers fell into place at the mention of my name and family connection.  But, as a youngster I couldn’t make sense of the suddenly gushing niceness from some people, or the angry, smarting remarks of others.  People who, a moment before, had been in the pleasantly neutral position of someone just met. 

    I don’t know what people saw as they looked at that ship, I can only guess from their responses.  There were those who hoped that by proximity, the abundance would rub off on them. Some felt that maybe, if they tied themselves to my ship, theirs would come in.  Others, trying to make me feel guilty, believed that would earn them a ticket to board.  Then there were those who thought that by association they could be transported to a lifetime cruise.  There were some pirates, and out and out attempts at sinking by the envious; those who felt that no ship of any sort would ever dock for them in their lifetime.  

    One of the first times I became aware of this was around seven years old when I was invited to a birthday party of some child I didn’t really know.  I think she went to the same school I went to, but was not a friend, and she is no one I remember.

    The apartment building sat at the top of a sloping, tree lined drive.  On the way there and climbing up to the third floor, Mom kept assuring me this girl was a friend.  

    The mother of the Birthday Girl met us at the door with a big welcome.  Mom stayed for a few minutes, then beat a hasty retreat saying she had things to do, as did many of the moms of the house full of yelling kids.  The grownups that did stay at the apartment had been nominated to keep the cake off the walls and the kids from turning into a mob. 

    I had to be taken to the birthday girl – I didn’t know her well enough to even know who she was – and gave her the little package Mom had wrapped.  We looked at each other like total strangers and she said, “thanks.”

    Looking around the room I saw some kids from school, but none that I knew or played with.  I wasn’t alone for long, Mrs. Birthday Girl’s mother began to usher me around from room to room to meet any available adult telling them, “This is the little duPont girl, she’s come for the party.  Isn’t that nice?”  I wasn’t introduced to the kids running around, they didn’t give beans about my last name.  But the adults really marveled and looked approvingly at Mrs. Birthday Girl, who must have felt her esteem rising by the minute.

    All of us kids attending the party were given some sort of little gift as we left.  I don’t remember what it was. I put it away later and never looked at it.  Riding home in the car I remember Mom saying how nice it was to go to a party and receive a gift.  It felt hollow and empty to me. 

    I was trying to get my head around the awareness of being invited somewhere with a bunch of kids I didn’t really know; to be introduced to a bunch of adults who were pleased with my presence, but not at all interested in me.  Mrs. Birthday Girl’s mom was not someone who had ever previously come to our house for coffee or dinner.  Nor did she ever visit after her daughter’s birthday.  I attended a few parties like these, until I was old enough to say no and throw a tantrum to go with it.  I imagine Mom had been pleased to think I was so popular.  She kept telling me these were my friends, my classmates.

    I did have a couple of true friends, children I liked and played with.  But not in the numbers that matched the invitations.  My mother, when she was in school, was very popular on her own charisma and magnetism.  She had married into the family and did not completely understand the draw that the name had for people.      Years later in high school, a teacher explained about people wanting to make a certain kind of impression in the world.  They drove cars such as Mercedes and Cadillacs and had fancy gadgets and visibly expensive jewelry.  Their “things” implied a certain status, and so these things were called status symbols.  I realized then, that was why I’d been invited to so many of those birthday celebrations.  I, with my small d and u, had been a status symbol, a living hood ornament on the automobile of those parties.

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THAT DAY

Posted on February 5, 2025 by Nicole Lawrence

THAT DAY

For a long time, I thought my main problem was that I didn’t die afterward. I don’t know why I didn’t. I’m assuming it was meant to be. One walk by the ocean and my world as I knew it, dissolved. Literally. Gone in less than seconds.

At the time I didn’t think much of it. I Wasn’t capable of thought at all, really. In those states of consciousness, there is no mind, it is just pure experience. There was nothing to think about any of it. Awareness of the would-be reality on a vast screen. Intense imagining sensations of a would-be body and its sensations. moving through imagined would-be time, space, and place. Imagined sunlight and warmth if sunlight were real. Imagined wind-on-skin sensations and flowing strands of hair on a not-seen body as though wind, skin and hair were real.

On the vast endless screen, the image of beach, ocean, path and sky moved gently outward, imitating forward movement. Time vanished.

I could only witness, knowing beach, sky, ocean, and body were not real. It was no longer “my body,” because it was no longer there. Nor did I care.

After some movement and sensations, what is considered time, the images and imaginings shifted back to a three-dimensional world. Then my mind began to catalogue the experience from the memories. Sorting, assessing, storing them as though the mind, itself had been in on the experience. The mind, trying to pass as a VIP in the world of higher consciousness experience.  But it can’t, it can only pretend to have been there.

This shifting of reality to a screen and back happened a few more times over the next few days. Sometimes while driving. I don’t believe I was in danger, as the image was that of a screen and the sensation of moving down a road. Any more than sitting in a movie theater and seeing the picture move to create the perception of going down train tracks or highway is in danger of crashing.

The sudden shift at the beach let me in first-hand on a secret espoused by many traditions.  This world is an illusion. We can think it, try to imagine the experience of this world being an illusion. But all the conjecture and imaginings cannot come close the actual experience.

One can conjecture this world as an illusion, and then open their eyes, interact, and continue on with their lives. It is nothing compared to the actual experience. The actual experience can wreck you. It dissolves all of the assumptions of reality you’ve been taught and indoctrinated into.

At the time, there was pure experience. After it, my mind re-engaged and began to sort and file what it could detect of the experience. “Whoa, that was something,” was somewhere in the beginning of the aftereffects. Attempts to give it meaning kicked in: Is this what enlightenment is?  What happens now?

I was still very high from the experience. Thoughts bubbled up intermittently and lapsed back into deep suspended silences. I still functioned, drove myself home from that walk on the beach.

Following shortly in the aftermath of the event, realizations and new understandings began to surface. After the wonder came the crash. What looks to be reality is really images on a screen, and it is happening moment to moment — the concept of time disappeared during the experience. With no time, there was no history. The connections I’d had to family and friends — the history with them — also left. The memories were there, and so was the understanding that the history was present-moment, generated memories for continuity of the illusion — our minds would crack without it.

For a long time, I thought my main problem was that I didn’t die afterward. I don’t know why I did it. I’m assuming it was meant to be. One walk by the ocean and my world as I knew it, dissolved. Literally. Gone in less than seconds.

At the time I didn’t think much of it. Wasn’t capable of thought at all, really. In those states of consciousness, there is no mind, just pure experience. There was nothing to think thoughts about any of it. Awareness of the would-be reality on a vast screen. Imagining sensations of a would-be body moving through imagined would-be time, space, and place. Imagined sunlight warmth if sunlight were real. Imagined wind-on-skin sensations and flowing strands of hair on a not-seen body as though wind, skin and hair were real.

On the vast endless screen, the image of beach, ocean, path and sky moved gently outward, imitating forward movement. Time vanished.

I could only witness, knowing beach, sky, ocean, and body were not real. It was no longer “my body,” because it was no longer there. Nor did I care.

After some movement and sensations, what is considered time, the images and imaginings shifted back to a three-dimensional world. Then my mind began to catalogue the experience from the memories. Sorting, assessing, storing them as though the mind, itself had been in on the experience. The mind, trying to pass as a VIP in the world of higher consciousness experience.  But it can’t, it can only pretend to have been there.

This shifting of reality to a screen and back happened a few more times over the next few days. Sometimes while driving. I don’t believe I was in danger, as the image was that of a screen and the sensation of moving down a road. Any more than sitting in a movie theater and seeing the picture move to create the perception of going down train tracks or highway is in danger of crashing.

The sudden shift at the beach let me in first-hand on a secret espoused by many traditions.  This world is an illusion. We can think it, try to imagine the experience of this world being an illusion. But all the conjecture and imaginings cannot come close the actual experience.

One can conjecture this world as an illusion, and then open their eyes, interact, and continue on with their lives. It is nothing compared to the actual experience. The actual experience can wreck you. It dissolves all of the assumptions of reality you’ve been taught and indoctrinated into.

At the time, there was pure experience. After it, my mind re-engaged and began to sort and file what it could detect of the experience. “Whoa, that was something,” was somewhere in the beginning of the aftereffects. Attempts to give it meaning kicked in: Is this what enlightenment is?  What happens now?

I was still very high from the experience. Thoughts bubbled up intermittently and lapsed back into deep suspended silences. I still functioned, drove myself home from that walk on the beach.

Following shortly in the aftermath of the event, realizations and new understandings began to surface. After the wonder came the crash. What looks to be reality is really images on a screen, and it is happening moment to moment — the concept of time disappeared during the experience. With no time, there was no history. The connections I’d had to family and friends — the history with them — also left. The memories were there, and so was the understanding that the history was present-moment, generated memories for continuity of the illusion — our minds would crack without it.THAT DAY

For a long time, I thought my main problem was that I didn’t die afterward. I don’t know why I did it. I’m assuming it was meant to be. One walk by the ocean and my world as I knew it, dissolved. Literally. Gone in less than seconds.

At the time I didn’t think much of it. Wasn’t capable of thought at all, really. In those states of consciousness, there is no mind, just pure experience. There was nothing to think thoughts about any of it. Awareness of the would-be reality on a vast screen. Imagining sensations of a would-be body moving through imagined would-be time, space, and place. Imagined sunlight warmth if sunlight were real. Imagined wind-on-skin sensations and flowing strands of hair on a not-seen body as though wind, skin and hair were real.

On the vast endless screen, the image of beach, ocean, path and sky moved gently outward, imitating forward movement. Time vanished.

I could only witness, knowing beach, sky, ocean, and body were not real. It was no longer “my body,” because it was no longer there. Nor did I care.

After some movement and sensations, what is considered time, the images and imaginings shifted back to a three-dimensional world. Then my mind began to catalogue the experience from the memories. Sorting, assessing, storing them as though the mind, itself had been in on the experience. The mind, trying to pass as a VIP in the world of higher consciousness experience.  But it can’t, it can only pretend to have been there.

This shifting of reality to a screen and back happened a few more times over the next few days. Sometimes while driving. I don’t believe I was in danger, as the image was that of a screen and the sensation of moving down a road. Any more than sitting in a movie theater and seeing the picture move to create the perception of going down train tracks or highway is in danger of crashing.

The sudden shift at the beach let me in first-hand on a secret espoused by many traditions.  This world is an illusion. We can think it, try to imagine the experience of this world being an illusion. But all the conjecture and imaginings cannot come close the actual experience.

One can conjecture this world as an illusion, and then open their eyes, interact, and continue on with their lives. It is nothing compared to the actual experience. The actual experience can wreck you. It dissolves all of the assumptions of reality you’ve been taught and indoctrinated into.

At the time, there was pure experience. After it, my mind re-engaged and began to sort and file what it could detect of the experience. “Whoa, that was something,” was somewhere in the beginning of the aftereffects. Attempts to give it meaning kicked in: Is this what enlightenment is?  What happens now?

I was still very high from the experience. Thoughts bubbled up intermittently and lapsed back into deep suspended silences. I still functioned, drove myself home from that walk on the beach.

Following shortly in the aftermath of the event, realizations and new understandings began to surface. After the wonder came the crash. What looks to be reality is really images on a screen, and it is happening moment to moment — the concept of time disappeared during the experience. With no time, there was no history. The connections I’d had to family and friends — the history with them — also left. The memories were there, and so was the understanding that the history was present-moment, generated memories for continuity of the illusion — our minds would crack without it.

For a long time, I thought my main problem was that I didn’t die afterward. I don’t know why I did it. I’m assuming it was meant to be. One walk by the ocean and my world as I knew it, dissolved. Literally. Gone in less than seconds.

At the time I didn’t think much of it. Wasn’t capable of thought at all, really. In those states of consciousness, there is no mind, just pure experience. There was nothing to think thoughts about any of it. Awareness of the would-be reality on a vast screen. Imagining sensations of a would-be body moving through imagined would-be time, space, and place. Imagined sunlight warmth if sunlight were real. Imagined wind-on-skin sensations and flowing strands of hair on a not-seen body as though wind, skin and hair were real.

On the vast endless screen, the image of beach, ocean, path and sky moved gently outward, imitating forward movement. Time vanished.

I could only witness, knowing beach, sky, ocean, and body were not real. It was no longer “my body,” because it was no longer there. Nor did I care.

After some movement and sensations, what is considered time, the images and imaginings shifted back to a three-dimensional world. Then my mind began to catalogue the experience from the memories. Sorting, assessing, storing them as though the mind, itself had been in on the experience. The mind, trying to pass as a VIP in the world of higher consciousness experience.  But it can’t, it can only pretend to have been there.

This shifting of reality to a screen and back happened a few more times over the next few days. Sometimes while driving. I don’t believe I was in danger, as the image was that of a screen and the sensation of moving down a road. Any more than sitting in a movie theater and seeing the picture move to create the perception of going down train tracks or highway is in danger of crashing.

The sudden shift at the beach let me in first-hand on a secret espoused by many traditions.  This world is an illusion. We can think it, try to imagine the experience of this world being an illusion. But all the conjecture and imaginings cannot come close the actual experience.

One can conjecture this world as an illusion, and then open their eyes, interact, and continue on with their lives. It is nothing compared to the actual experience. The actual experience can wreck you. It dissolves all of the assumptions of reality you’ve been taught and indoctrinated into.

At the time, there was pure experience. After it, my mind re-engaged and began to sort and file what it could detect of the experience. “Whoa, that was something,” was somewhere in the beginning of the aftereffects. Attempts to give it meaning kicked in: Is this what enlightenment is?  What happens now?

I was still very high from the experience. Thoughts bubbled up intermittently and lapsed back into deep suspended silences. I still functioned, drove myself home from that walk on the beach.

Following shortly in the aftermath of the event, realizations and new understandings began to surface. After the wonder came the crash. What looks to be reality is really images on a screen, and it is happening moment to moment — the concept of time disappeared during the experience. With no time, there was no history. The connections I’d had to family and friends — the history with them — also left. The memories were there, and so was the understanding that the history was present-moment, instant generated memories for continuity of the illusion — our minds would crack without it.

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Disappearing Walls

Posted on July 5, 2024 by Nicole Lawrence

I knew, after the floor disappeared and the walls went transparent that time, that if I was close enough that I could walk right through them.  I tried for a while  in the months afterwords to shift my vision as had happened during the concert, much like when you draw a cube and can visually shift how you see it – coming towards you or going away from you. I didn’t have success with trying to make the vision shift happen.  

I’d gone to New York to hear a talk about metaphysics and spirituality given by Paul Solomon.  It was held in a cathedral in New York, all stone and stained glass.  I found the talk really interesting.  Paul had brought with him some musicians from the Fellowship of the Inner Light in Virginia Beach, VA. When Paul was done with his talk. The musicians gave a little concert. They were off to the side in an alcove.  I felt very light and happy listening to the music I got caught up in a feeling of joy with the soaring notes.   I was watching the musicians and my perception gave a jolt and shifted.  The stone wall behind the singers was no longer solid. It had become translucent it was like a gauze curtain.  I could see through it there were sparkling lights in space behind the gauze curtain that resembled a stone wall.  The floor under the musicians was not stone.  They were standing on space.  I looked around me, the pew I sat in and all of the pews were resting on space.  There was no vision of anything below.  I had the thought that if I stood up and started to walk.  I’d fall through the space that was the floor. 

It didn’t occur to me to think about what this experience meant or if it had any significance.  basically, I said to myself, “Well, that happened.”  I periodically, when the memory came up, tried to get my vision of the space I was in to shift by willing it. But was never able to make it happen.

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SO FANTASTICALLY REAL

Posted on June 17, 2024 by Nicole Lawrence

Throughout my life I’ve had mystical experiences.  As a child I went to amazing realms in my dreams at night.  I awoke in the mornings with the certainty that those realms existed in the same location as the house I was living in, they were right HERE, only I couldn’t see them.  In the dream realm I encountered magical creatures that left me feeling loved, safe, and that everything was going to be alright.  

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The New Status

Posted on May 31, 2024 by Nicole Lawrence

I moved to California from Hawaii a couple of years ago. mostly due to the need for medical care that wasn’t available in Hawaii. The pace of life in California was faster than what I was used to living in Hawaii.

In the past couple of years the pace of things in California has become decidedly faster than two years ago. One’s status used to be defined by how big your house was, how fancy your car was. It depended on how pricey things were. Now, the new status seems to be around how rushed you are. I see it everywhere, people rushing through the grocery store, dashing from one appointment to the next, in a hurry to pickup their kids, to take the dog to the groomers, to get back home so the nanny can Ruch off to her various activities. People are driving unnecessarily fast, driving through red lights and stop signs. If you’re not in the same amount of rush as they are, you’ll hear bout it in the sounds of their car horns, that sound close to road rage. People need to slow down and learn to enjoy the air, the trees, flowers and sun. when you are rushing about, you’ll miss the fulfillment of the here and now moment. Try taking a few breaths before hitting that accelerator.

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A Realization

Posted on May 27, 2024 by Nicole Lawrence

I saw/realized this a couple of months ago, while meditating. I’ve studied the western Metaphysical path and have traveled to India and engaged Eastern philosophy. Years ago, I struggled to make sense of both and see how they fit together. Then one day, poof they became one and the same.

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A DIFFERENT VIEW ON MASKS AND SOCIAL DISTANCING – Part 2

Posted on September 7, 2020 by Nicole Lawrence

MASKS

I don’t know anyone who really likes to wear a mask. They have become a contentious issue and jumping off point for various political statements. Like social distancing, masks may serve a more spiritual purpose than health and limiting the spread of the Covid-19 virus.

It was bound to happen – people refusing to wear masks and using all sorts of reasons and even fake documentation to support their position. I’m not talking about those who have a legitimate health reason – physical and psychological – to not wear a mask. I’m talking about the people who feel personally affronted by wearing a mask. 

It seems many of these people are the ones who like to talk the most. Even pre-pandemic, they’d be the talkers at parties. If anyone tried to interject, they’d talk louder and faster trying not to let anyone else have a say.  

They argue that wearing a mask robs them of oxygen. I think they are unhappy because they have to stop and think about what they are going to say, what to use their oxygen on. They can’t just blurt anymore. They have to decide if what they want to say is worth the expenditure of that oxygen.

It is said, “The eyes are the windows to the Soul.” One thing I’ve noticed is that, wearing a mask, people see each other’s eyes first. What if we are being given the opportunity to meet each other on the Soul level before words are spoken? 

Much of the verbal diatribe in the past few years has created divisiveness. What if wearing masks is one of the ways to begin healing this division?  What would happen if we all stopped to meet on the soul level before words are ever spoken? 

In our time alone we can meet what’s out of balance in our vibration and heal it. While out, we can meet others on a Soul level before talking and consider what words we are going to share, to help them and all of us fare well.

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A DIFFERENT VIEW ON MASKS AND SOCIAL DISTANCING – Part 1

Posted on September 7, 2020 by Nicole Lawrence

SOCIAL DISTANCING

From a spiritual perspective, social distancing and wearing masks might be one of the best things to help society change from the course we’ve been on the past few years. 

Most people agree the world as we know it has changed and that we have to open to, and ready to create and allow the new. 

A lack of civility is the norm. We’ve become careless in our handling of each other. Seemingly gone are the days where people discussed differences of opinion. There was an open-mindedness and curiosity without feeling threatened by another’s point of view. Now, people argue as if their inability to convince you will lead to their execution. 

They often spout what they’ve heard others say, blindly taking in information and assimilating it as true without any research or reflection. If anyone should disagree with them, they get louder and even abusive. As a society, we seem to have lost the art of listening, and then weighing and considering what we hear and going on to form our own opinion.

What if social distancing and wearing masks – even temporarily – are part of what will heal the rifts in society?

Beyond health and safety, social distancing lets people be alone in their own energy. We all have an energetic field or bubble around us called an aura. When we are physically close to others our auras overlap and we share energetic vibrations.

We’ve all met people we like to be around. They are uplifting and we feel good about ourselves when we are around them. We say people have a good vibe. With social distancing there is little to no auric overlap and we are faced with our own energy – our own vibration.

The law of resonance says that when two different resonances come together, usually one of three things will happen: the higher resonance will lower to match the lower vibration; the lower one will raise to match the higher one; or they will both shift to meet somewhere in the middle.

When we are around others, we begin to share their vibratory rate. It can be a distraction that takes us away from seeing ourselves clearly. Unless we are aware and make a conscious effort to hold our own resonance, we will begin to share their resonance/vibratory rate. When we spend time alone, we have to face what is coming up from within. It is only by dealing with that inner terrain that the outer has a chance to change. Our inner resonance contributes to, and even generates the world around us.

I’m not saying we need to be alone all of the time, but when you are alone, notice how you feel and what may be surfacing for healing.We need to be responsible for our own resonance now more than ever and stop trying to get away from ourselves or rely on others to carry us energetically. With all of the changes we are being asked to meet in the world, it is important to know where our individual energy lies – to know what we are contributing and see where we might heal to be a more expanded contribution.

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Our Conversation

Posted on October 9, 2018 by Nicole Lawrence

Our Conversation

We are in the most exciting conversation of our lifetime. Women and men are talking about a new level of respect for women, what this could mean and what it might look like.

Beyond the hate bashing there are genuine deep discussions occurring. These conversations aren’t found in the headlines or screaming memes and political cartoons. They are voiced in quiet talks in line at the grocery store, or the discussions in coffee shops and also in the comment sections in online articles and posts.

Some, don’t want to entertain these possible changes. They feel we are bucking the status quo, that women’s roles are defined and should be left that way. Others, like myself, hold that centuries of inequality of women is up for change. Never before has the discussion been so open and vital.

 It’s been contentious and exhausting. There have been unkind words said on both sides. In among these thorns, petals can be found. Even when people are on opposite sides of an issue, I’ve seen a reaching out with love, in spite of their differences. 

I, for one, am part of the hopeful contingent for change. Some of our sisters and brothers don’t want to make the journey with us, and that is fine. We wish them well, but we must go on. It is in our blood, our Souls – a call to journey to the light of the new on the horizon. 

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