Blue Calcite And Brave Cats

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Calcite is a useful and easily found crystal. Most of the specimens – like the ones pictured here – have been treated with acid to gently enhance the colour and smooth the surface. This does not harm the metaphysical and as my son’s lovely crystal lady says, it’s good to work with colours.

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Calcite, then, is a useful crystal to add to your collection. As it is blue, it also works with the throat chakra to aid the flow of communication so you can speak your words with truth and confidence. It calms and encourages you inwardly, to complement the outward appearance of bravery.

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Blue Calcite can help memory health and also give you the courage to make judgements and stand by them.

Sometimes bravery is found in unexpected places against unexpected odds… Ting and her sister Tooty were abandoned as kittens in the hedge at the bottom of our garden, and although now Ting is the more confident cat, Tooty was the first kitten who was brave enough to come out and meet us, to take the chance that we might be good or bad prospects.

Cats are by nature, generally solitary creatures who prefer to avoid conflict rather than engage… However, there have been times when my girls have banded together in a show of bravery to see off an intruder…

There is a large black and white cat who lives over the road and who likes to take the occasional wander over to my garden. I don’t know his name, so I just call him Big Ears. Because he has, well, big ears. We have a corner house, so I was watching from a hidden vantage point as he casually jumped the gate and sauntered down the path. Tooty appeared from behind a plant pot and darted off around the bend of the garden.

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A few seconds later, she returned, accompanied by Charlie. Big Ears stopped and sat down, appearing somewhat disconcerted.

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From another part of the garden, Ting emerged… Big Ears was now facing a triumvirate of feline warriors. All just… staring at him.

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Then Lily appeared, (late as always) squeezing through a gap in the hedge after she’d cantered across the park, the fourth member of this feisty feminine feline family was too much for Big Ears. Charlie rose to her feet, and took a step forwards – Big Ears’ nerve broke, and he turned tail and ran.

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It’s easy to be brave in a crowd, but it takes a special sort of courage just to take that one step, by yourself, sometimes.

Sodalite And Sympathetic Cats

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Generally speaking, cats aren’t known for their sympathetic natures. For example… I have done one of my “Oops Mummy fell over a fairy” comedy falls and the cats present have looked at me as if I’m not right in the head…

I have been on the receiving end of one of Lily’s Murder Mittens that has left me tearful and bleeding…

Charlie! Look what that little b*&%$ did!”

And I have received the reply:

Well, I don’t think she really wanted the flea treatment…”

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But also a sympathetic lick across my scratched hand. Unless she was just tasting my blood.

I do like it when you have your hand near a cat when they are having a quick wash and brush up – quite often you will find yourself on the receiving end of a sympathetic lick…

Poor woman – hasn’t the first idea about personal hygiene…” (I do. Really.)

There have been times though, when I have been low or sad, and I would like to think that my girls realise this, and come to offer me sympathy and comfort with their furry purring warmth.

There is real sympathy, empathy and emotion between animal and human at these times, something to be treasured, encouraged and nurtured.

Sodalite can be used to promote these bonds of communication: as it is blue, it works with the throat chakra to bring compassion and emotional intelligence. It’s a good crystal to use in group sessions as it promotes emotional balance and understanding.

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It itself, Sodalite possesses the inherent quality of sympathy as it works with you, gently encouraging self-acceptance without judgement, sympathy without pity, fitting neatly into the crystal rainbow repertoire as the metaphysical “Agony Aunt”…

And who hasn’t shared their problems with a warm furry comforter, and felt better?

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Blogs, Birthdays And Blues…

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Well! Who would have thought it! As an additional Mother’s Day gift, I received this notification last week – the header photo, saying that I have been blogging for a whole year… I also got perfume – I love perfume, crystals, of course, and cat-related objects, naturally…

My little blog that started at my son’s suggestion has survived a year… I’ve posted regularly (never thought I had so much to talk about really) and I have met some truly WONDERFUL people, real friends who would be welcome for a cup of tea at my house… not the sort of people where when you see them coming you switch the lights off, draw the curtains and lie on the floor behind the sofa… just me on that one then..?

I have enjoyed the reading of blogs, the new knowledge and shared experiences and talking, really talking. In “real time” I am actually quite shy… at your average socila gathering, I would be the person sitting in a corner by themselves, trying to look interesting and aloof but really dying inside…

All I had to do was talk, even if it was something totally banal, just to break the ice. I always feel bad for someone if they are giving a talk or a lecture , and ask at the end “Any questions?” usually to a deathly silence… I generally blurt out something completely stupid and unrelated like “Do you like ice cream?”

One of my Mother’s Day presents was this… blue Goldstone. A man-made crystal of glass with tiny flecks of copper suspended within that create the sparkle. Opinion is divided as to whether it has any actual metaphysical benefit, but it is reputed to be protective and uplifting, shielding psychics from empathetic residue and bringing vitality to speech. I like it… it’s pretty, and sparkly and I’ve been told it’s always good to work with colours.

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And this is Angelite, a stone of awareness that links, as its name would suggest, to the higher realms, and enables you to speak freely and with love.

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All blue crystals are generally associated with the throat chakra, and with that in mind, promote communication.

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So then, as I think about my own blog’s birthday, I inevitably consider my own… notorious for being horrible occasions – I was homeless on my 21st. The actual day is not until July and I am now at that stage of my life where I have lived the Maiden years, nearly completed my Mother years and am approaching the Crone years… Silence at the back there!

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This essentially means I should be able to look back on my decades of accumulated wisdom and share little gems of my own… I would start by saying talk more. I wish I’d talked more, shared worries and asked for help… My oldest son has made some life choices that I am diametrically opposed to… I do wish we could have talked more – they are his choices to make, granted, but at least I could have offered him an alternative opinion… so talk.

Even silences can be “speaking”… and sometimes that’s all it takes…

Hey! Hey! Do you like ice cream…?

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Smells…

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Since giving up smoking, my sense of smell has come quiveringly out of the corner of my nasal passages, raising its little head enquiringly, yet hopefully…

Smell is such an evocative sense and one that I tend to associate with memories past and present…An early one for me is the enormous lavender bush we had growing beside the pond at the cottage where we used to live when I was little. A heady, wonderful perfume that floated on the air like tangible lilac ribbons. The tiny flowers seemed brimful of perfume that spilled over enticingly, so bees, big fat furry bees would loiter casually amongst the stems, headily drunk and so complacent that I, as a little girl, would stroke their wonderful stripy fur and marvel at its softness…

Another smell memory: both my grandparents have passed now, my grandmother, just two years ago, but I have fond memories of staying at their bungalow in the Welsh countryside. At six o’clock in the morning the heating would come on, and the smell of gently heating house would enter my bedroom, the raffia mats in the kitchen, the toasting smell of the special bread Nan used.

I think I inherited my love of perfume from her. My grandad used to travel a lot on business and yet without fail, he would always bring Nan some perfume. The classics, of course, like Chanel – Chanel No. 5 is my all time favourite – and also the Bentley of perfumes, never mind the Rolls Royce, Joy. (Also my Nan’s name.)

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Joy’ was created by Henri Alméras in 1929 for couturier Jean Patou. It is apparently one of the most expensive perfumes in the world, around 10,000 jasmine flowers and 28 dozen roses are required to make a 30ml bottle. Summer in a bottle, magical and picturesque – as a very special treat, Nan would dab a little on the inside of my wrist – “Never too much darling, a lady should be scented, not overpowering – it’s vulgar.” ‘Joy’ will for ever be my Nan.

Later on in my life, I lived somewhere where there was a dog food factory, a maggot farm and a sewage works. My sense of smell, already somewhat traumatised, went into permanent hiding.

However, as the days of non-smoking pass, I am finding continual olfactory surprises. My mother was slicing cucumber the other day – I was standing, usefully, watching her, when suddenly I was aware of a wet, green, fresh smell. Cucumber!

My cat, Charlie, smells delicious. Her fur is scented with a combination of grass, my hand cream, and some indefinable essence all her own. My mother’s dog, Erin, smells of warm leather.

Living in a house with two sons and my partner, aftershaves and deoderants were all a messy scribble in my nose… but now I can identify Firetrap from Polo, Kouros from Beckham…

I wish I could bottle the smells from my childhood… the golden days of summer, when the sun shone and the sky was bright blue and the Earth gently baked…

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A Planet Sneezed and This is What it Left Me…

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What’s that?” I asked, pointing at a slice of dull grey rock that looked unattractive, and out of place against the gleaming blue of Angelite chunks, the quietly confident sparkle of Amethyst geodes and the sleek shine of Citrine.

It’s Specular Hematite, or Specularite.”

Oh. Can I hold it please?”

They’re used to me at our crystal shop… I was duly passed this… splat… of rock. I don’t often buy large crystals, opting for more manageable tumblestones or jewellery, as I like to carry a fair amount around with me – well, you never know who you might meet who needs a blast of love from the empathetic Rose Quartz, a spiritual boost from sunny Citrine, or the protective warmth of Black Tourmaline.

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I am aware of Hematite, indeed, I have a tumblestone and a bracelet as I appreciate it for its grounding and protective qualities. I have also recently discovered that it is useful in overcoming addictions… like smoking… ‘Hematite’ derives from the Ancient Greek word for ‘blood’, ‘haima’. A powdered form was used as rouge and tiny spherules were found on Mars, hence its red colour. Obviously, ‘hema’ in its name is a good clue that it can be beneficial in the treatment of circulation problems as it stimulates the absorption of iron and creation of red blood cells in the body, although I generally use it in combination with Pyrite as I find it helps my back pain issues.

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But this… splat… drew me. So I bought it. Off I sped, clutching my purchase, and once at home, I sat down to get a proper look at it. ‘Splat’ and ‘sneeze’ don’t really do it justice. I held it and it was like looking at a slice of action from the Big Bang. Polished smooth on one side, it is the deepest, darkest velvety blue, so blue it’s practically black, but as you turn it in the light there are flashes of a colour from the farthest corners of the Galaxy. Strewn across its surface are sparkles, actually tiny crystals of mica, but reminiscent of a clear night sky when all the grace and beauty of the Universe is clearly visible. I turned it over, and even on its rough side, there are glimmers of promise between the grey wrinkles of a planet as yet untouched by man’s hand.

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Specular Hematite, unsurprisingly given its appearance, can be used to link high vibrational energies from Spirit to everyday life. It can be used to establish your own best qualities and show you how and where you may best deploy them. Yet at the same time, Specular Hematite possesses a gentle grounding energy to anchor you in the present moment as it is connected with the Root chakra.

Granted, it’s not exactly a pocket rock, but its sombre beauty encourages deep inner reflection, When used in meditation, it can help with memory and past life recall.

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It is a beautiful physical and visual reminder that we are all connected, all one, all children of the Universe.

“We are Siamese if you please…”

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Ever since I was a little girl and I heard those immortal words from the classic Disney film ‘Lady and the Tramp’, I was besotted with Siamese and overcome with the desire to have one for my very own. When I was a little girl they weren’t exactly a common breed, but when my old cat passed, my parents moved heaven and earth to find me a suitable replacement. A Burmese. Don’t get me wrong because I adored him, and my fondness for Siamese faded into the background.

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I have had a succession of cat family members, my most recent being the four ‘Girls’, the ‘Big Girls’ and the ‘Little Girls’. I have already told the story of how we acquired the ‘Little Girls’ in an earlier post and how I finally came to own a Siamese.

image[9].jpeg“Yay! My forever home!”

Granted she has no pedigree to prove her background, but she is the sweetest natured cat I have ever had the pleasure to know and love. Admittedly she is not the brightest of cats, but from the tip of her chocolate kinked tail to her brown leather nose she is every inch an elegant Siamese to look at. And hear.

CAM00115.jpgIn my son’s bed – I’d just changed the sheets!!

Waaaaahh! I’m here! What’s happening!”

It is heart-rending when we have to go out… a puzzled brown face and slightly crossed blue eyes watches our departure and her howls echo after us… even round the corner…

Waaaaoooh! Whyyyyy! Nooooah! Don’t go! Please! Come back…”

The look of sheer pleasure on her little face as she comes running to greet us, purring thunderously and then flopping at our feet so we can rub her tummy. She will roll ecstatically from side to side, grabbing at our hands with her paws and mouth – never to bite or scratch, although there have been a couple of accidents where she’s snagged me… The devastated look on her face afterwards has me comforting her!

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She is certainly the most talkative cat I’ve ever had, and will keep up a running commentary on whatever she sees me doing:

Hi! What shall we do Oh, you’re going to clean the bathroom, that’s always good for a laugh…”

My partner chose her name… he likes ‘Little Britain’ and doesn’t have to take the cats to the vets…

Ting Tong! Ting Tong Maccadangdang!” muffled snickers from the – of course – crowded waiting room…

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She adores having her photo taken. The other girls don’t mind and will quite happily pose for a while, but Ting actively loves the camera…

Oh yes! He’s got the whirry box! Me! Look! I’m here right now! I’ll waive my fees…” as she tramples over Lily to get to my son and rub her face lovingly on the camera.

She is the sweetest, most loving cat. From the lost little kitten, she has grown into a happy, confident cat who never fails to put a smile on my face as she gazes at me with love in her – slightly crossed – sapphire blue eyes.

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All photos were taken by my son!