Heart of a Lion

By Cate Cavanagh

Here I was again. From the time I was nine each time my mom went to the hospital I would wonder "Is this it?". "Will she survive?".

My mother became disabled from a massive stroke when I was nine and what followed was a life in which she was isolated by the loss of speech which left her uttering only a garbled jumble of words that only I learned to understand. Despite this severe speech limitation and shuffling walk which was also an effect of her massive stroke, she was well liked and respected by all she met.

During our life together there were more trips to the emergency room and subsequent hospitalizations than I can count. Each time I would ask myself--”Is this it?”

During what was to become her last year, I began to look at the very real possibility that I might lose her. I was terrified. A large part of who I was would be gone as well. After all I had been her “translator” and advocate since my childhood. I suddenly realized looking out for my mother was a life purpose. How would I fill that part of me that would be buried with her?

She was admitted and this time, due to high fevers, there were days she not know me or afterwards recall that I had been there everyday for hours to give her full care. Each day that she did not know me I worried if she had had another stroke, would she survive and if she did, would she ever remember me again? I wondered when did she become so fragile? In my mind she had always been and still was a fighter and I wanted “her” back!

But I also finally realized, despite all the coming back from every medical emergency possible, that she was after all mortal. It is so strange when you have indomitable people in your life. Even though you know better it just seems they will always be there. It suddenly dawned on me she could leave at any time. I know this material life is not eternal but I suddenly realized that the question was also not so much would she survive but, how could I if she didn‘t? Our lives had ever been intertwined. From the age of nine I was her link to all things that normalized her life. So much of my life had been wrapped around my mother how would I survive when the need to be, my purpose, would be gone? I then realized my worries were as much about me as about her. Seeing her in a hospital bed yet again pressed that life long question upon me once again. I wondered how much she, a ninety-three year old woman, now totally helpless and dependent on total care, could take. She seemed so small, like a broken doll but unlike a broken doll she had her mental faculties trapped in a body no one but me could understand. No one but me could hear her voice which is why I was always her voice.

I realized that as she continued to become repeatedly ill her last year I evolved from not wanting her to leave me to wanting what was best for her.

I am not a religious person but I am a spiritual one and I realized it was time for me to pray. I prayed for the outcome that would be for her greater good whether I would understand it not, whether I wanted it or not. I prayed with trust that the Creator I believed in would deem what the best was and I especially prayed that I would accept it.

In praying for surviving without mom, I had great cause to think on what I had learned from her. I had learned to laugh no matter what, that the mind is stronger than the body, to live life with faith and never quit.

The next she passed away. She was almost ninety-three. A good long age, many would say but, her life (and mine) was one of harsh battles with her increasing disabilities but you know what? At her passing, she survived seventeen heart attacks and more than twenty strokes and the ravages of Parkinson’s. It was not until she was eighty-eight that she was no longer capable of walking at all. It was not until her final year that she began to need nitroglycerin, oxygen and suffered numerous bouts of aspiration pneumonia. It was one such bout that compromised her heart causing her to “cross” in her sleep.

I realized she was my life model as she never gave up! She loved to laugh with family and friends, take herself to the movies while I was at work and overindulge my daughter with ice cream.

I look back now and how she loved of seizing her freedom, cane and all, to leave the house without a note or a call for as long as she wished. I remember how these antics use to frighten and infuriate me. Yet now I feel a great pride.

But I I hold within me the life spirit she possessed. I honor and remember this for this is her legacy. Ironically I honor the will, strength, determination and stubbornness that used to frustrate me so much because I know she taught me the survival tools I needed and used myself so many times in my own life. She also influenced my career. All the advocating I did for her made me a superb disabilities specialist and advocate. Because I had to be her voice, I became intellectually outspoken at a very early age. The skills I learned as a child as a result of advocating for my mother has made me the effective communicator I am today.

Though she is gone for a while I am still disoriented by her passing. I have not yet gotten accustomed to the fact that there will be no more emergency calls or plans to see her for dinner.

But since I have inherited her stubborn streak single mindedness of purpose when I have to this is when I feel her closest to me--when I am not giving in.

In her own way she was a master magician-defying the diagnosis and prognosis of all doctors until she passed at the age of ninety-three! Magic is a matter of the mind after all...

For a glimpse of the healing of magic view this book trailer:

HER GODMOTHER BOOK TRAILER, Produced by Valkyrie Publishing, thresachaze.com





Available at fine bookstores and barnesandnoble.com and amazon.com

In Her Godmother Allie's godmother, Brigid, teaches her about the messages animals can bring and how they enhance everyday life with wonder. To me, this is not fiction.

As if losing a beloved pet is not heartbreaking enough, the thought of never seeing them at all, in whatever afterlife you believe in, can be devastating. Native Medicine teaches the power of animals. Native Americans believe animals and their spirits can be harbingers of learning and bearers of messages if one knows Animal Medicine. I have decided to share my experiences and perhaps you too may be comforted in knowing that animals do have souls!

I am an eclectic Pagan and Witch. From the time I was a child I have loved animals. I love all animals from feathered friend to slithering snake to hair throwing tarantulas. I have loved them all. As I matured, I left the teachings of my childhood religion. I think I was on my way 'out' the day the lecture evolved around animals having no souls. I know our community does not abide by this and I for one have had so many animals, each unique in its own way or "personality" I have never doubted that animals have souls. Where there is intelligence, in my opinion, there must be a soul and just because an animal or insect's intelligence may be labeled instinct, does not mean there is no thinking. It only means we have no means of measuring it. Let me modifythat. People at large have no way of measuring it but I do. I had a cat that actually played hide and seek with me! Every time we played, I picked a different home base and he always knew where it was. When my first dog died, I grieved for her horribly. I felt her crawl under my bed every night and jump on my bed at intervals just as she did when she was alive.

Suddenly a cat showed up on my doorstep. This cat actually left its owners of sixteen years and moved in with us. Now, most have heard how cats do not like moving and yet this cat did. But, it does not end here. After a month and receiving the healing this cat brought me, I was getting a glass of milk from the refrigerator. This cat was sitting on the chair we kept by the telephone in the kitchen. Suddenly I heard a noise. It was the sound of my dog's nails clicking on the linoleum just as they used to when she was alive. I stopped and stared at the spot when the clicking stopped. So did my cat. Then I heard the clicking again that went through our door and down the stairs until it faded away completely. I knew she had decided to move on knowing the cat she had sent was helping me heal. Since then, I have many animals and stories that could fill volumes that are all true. There was the time one of my cats lay dying in the hospital and the cat that had played hide and seek with when he was alive took me on my first astral travel to the animal hospital. I did not remember much but I did see him there and he was ill. The next morning I was awakened early by the telephone the next day. The vet had called to tell me a miracle had happened. My cat had healed.

For me, the issue of animals having souls was no longer moot. It was fact. Thirty years ago, I began my independent meditations into alternative belief systems. I was first guided to Native American Animal Medicine. Looking back, it all made sense. Through my meditations and readings, I began to accept that not did animals have souls, they had spirit medicine. They had power. As I began to look into what my totems were I found amazing correlations. I love all animals but there were some with whom I had a natural affinity my whole life: horses, wolves, dolphins and big cats. These are, among others, my totems. Now I knew my spiritual path would lead me increasingly to earth based beliefs. I have called my totems to assist me with finding guidance during hard times, for protection-especially for my daughter. The sudden surge of spirit power within myself that I experience at these times could wake me up from a deep sleep.

Not a day goes by that I do not make note of the first animal I see outside nor am I surprised every spring when ants invade my house and I will not kill them. Every year, they come around, I discovered, to give me a message and until I realize what it is, I am invaded. When I find that 'eureka!" moment, they disappear. Neither my husband nor I will kill spiders. We simply move them outside of the house. As a writer, how could I possible kill the animal that is the essence of creativity? We have bats that live under our roof on our porch. I have affectionately named them Elizabeth-Patrice and Bob. You see we have a large pond by our house and during the West Nile scare a couple of years ago, Elizabeth-Patrice and Bob had nightly feasts and we had absolutely no mosquitoes. We feed the skunks that live under our porch leftovers from dinner and when we have encountered them at night, it is almost like neighbors passing each other and saying 'Hello". Both Bats and skunks are very significant to me personally. Bat medicine is a very challenging one to call to oneself. It will require brutal and painful self-examination and accountability before one can move forward from one phase of life into the next. I have called upon the bat to help me fight my shadow self, my inner demons and depression. A painful process I can assure you yet afterwards I always find a new path to follow with a lighter heart for I always gain self forgiveness. Now skunk medicine can be very funny. It can make you very popular or unpopular. As a solitary eclectic, skunk medicine has literally kept unwanted visitors at bay. I have peace within myself and within my home for only my closest friends and family come by to visit. My teacher in Native ways, Ceremonial Chief WhiteEagle of Narrowsburg, New York has taught me how to free the spirit of a dead bird and how to accept its medicine so that its power on the side continues to grow. Of all these wonderful experiences, I have had some on the astral plane that have amazed even me. Years ago, my husband and I got a puppy. It was his first marriage and my second and we were both animal lovers so we began our joyfully with our combined menageries. We got Sheba so she would the first dog that would be 'ours', not his, not mine. My daughter also dogs and cats of her own. Needless to say, we relocated to a farm so all of our animals could have a wonderful life. Sheba used to play with my daughter's dog Penny. One day, I let out the dogs and hung outside with them as I always do. A sudden storm rolled in. All of the dogs came quickly in except for Penny and Sheba. The lightning and thunder was incredible and along came Penny but with no Sheba. At the time, Sheba was only about five months old. I ran out in the rain calling for her, desperately hoping she was just hiding nearby.

When my husband came home from work, I tearfully told him what had happened. By this time the rain had stopped. I continued walking the woods on foot and the roads while he saddled up and took to the trails where she might be hiding. We could not find her. We hunted for her all the next day into night. I was beside myself. I couldn't sleep from the time she disappeared but finally succumbed that evening when it became too dark and late to look anymore.

Suddenly, I felt wide-awake. I got up from the bed and decided to walk to the window. Sitting outside were three of the biggest hounds I had ever seen in my life. I could hear them speak thought they did not even bark. I knew they were asking for instructions. I instructed them to run and go find Sheba and they ran off, bounding down the road. Not a word was spoken. The words were thought. After that I turned to go back to bed and saw myself lying in bed. I walked over, sat down and reclined into myself. When we woke up, I just told my husband, Ralph, to go out and look for Sheba becuase he would find her "today". I would tell him my dreamtime experience later. A couple of hours later, he returned with a frightened, but happy to be home, puppy. He passed construction workers working on one of the side roads and asked if they had seen a puppy fitting Sheba's description. Indeed they had. As my husband turned to go back to the truck to look in the area, one of the men said, "Hey, there she is!" She was cowering under some fallen branches from a tree. When called her she ran into his arms and came home.

As Sheba grew, she became was such a character! She slept with us on the bed, between us and I would fall asleep rubbing her fur in-between my fingers. But, during the day when the bed was made and the bedspread on the bed, the bedroom was off limits. Sometimes, just for fun I would leave the door open. She would sneak into the bedroom and then shut the door behind her! I would walk in and when she knew I caught she literally would smile- teeth showing from one end of her mouth to the other!

And then, at a young age, Sheba died. I grieved for her everyday. I grieved because she needed emergency surgery and did not survive the night. The guilt I felt that Sheba may have been aware that she was in strange place away from home when she died, tore at my soul. The Irish in me would choke down tears but when Ralph wasn't around the Hispanic in me would sob with sorrow.

It was one of those bitterly cold winter afternoons and the chores outside at the barn had frankly made me very sleepy. I decided to take a nap. It seemed that no sooner had my head hit the pillow that I fell asleep.

Suddenly I did not feel tired anymore. I sat up and turned to get a cigarette. I figured I might as well get up and go into the living room. As I turned, I noticed myself lying there. The hand that rested on the bed was resting on the bed but THROUGH me. I stood up and looked down. My feet were not on the floor at all but about two feet above it. I walked through my bedroom door and into the living room. I saw my husband my husband and Jack (my daughter's boyfriend) watching television but they did not see me. I sat down on a chair and suddenly running toward me, two feet above the floor as I was, was Sheba! She ran into my arms. I cried and hugged her and told her how much I loved her and how sorry I was that she died alone. I told her I missed her and wished she were still with me because I missed her so much. She sat in front of me, wagged her tail, and gave me that smile. Then, she turned and I watched her walk away. I went back into the bedroom, reclined into myself once more and did not wake up for a few hours. When I woke up, I knew she came to me to ease my grief and she did. I have not cried for her since. Most of our animals are rescues. We found them abandoned, starving, freezing to death, or malnourished because the owner could not afford to feed them. Some were almost hit by cars, some were hit by cars and rehabilitated and adopted by great people. Still others were found when only an hour old and so on and so on. We have returned lost pets, adopted lost animals and placed lost pets. It is what we do.

One such animal was Colorado. He was a magnificent red Spanish Mustang. Although his name was Colorado, he has been born in Nevada and almost died when under a year old due to a bad heart. We got him when he was a year and half old. He was truly beautiful. He had a thick, wavy mane and tail and he had the classic "waffling" of the hairs in the front of his legs so typical of Spanish mustangs. He was highly spirited and I loved watching him run around the field, kicking up his legs and galloping around. He did wheeze which is why he was a pasture puff as we horse people call them. However, he was more than that. He was family. When I would go out to pet him, He would gallop full speed toward me and stop on a dime in front of me then lower his head for me to scratch between his eyes. Like all the other horses, at feeding time he had to wait for his grain. (You see all of our horses must get a kiss from us before they eat.)

One winter morning, as usual, my husband went out to feed the horses in the barn. He does that while I walk the dogs, do poop patrol, feed the dogs and make sure the ones on medication get their medicine. I also straighten up the house, clean and start laundry before I go out to help clean stalls. That morning, he came to the back door right away panting. I looked at him. I was terrified of what he had seen.

"He's dead!" He cried, "Colorado's dead!"

"What?" I screamed and ran out only in my bathrobe into the freezing cold.

He lay like a deer, legs folded under him, nose resting on the ground in front of him. I walked over to him as if not to wake him from his sleep and fell to my knees patting and hugging his majestic neck. I stroked the mane that only yesterday flew in the wind but his might gave way to the weakness that had always been his heart.

We somberly and tearfully took care of the other six horses. My husband cried as I did. Wordless, we knew we had our other horses who needed their routine also. After they were fed, watered and hayed I went into the house and called Chief WhiteEagle to let him know what happened. Within an hour, he was there and his wife, Cathy, hugged me and cried also. What followed was an amazing gift from the heart of this spiritual leader of twelve nations. He did a special ceremony for Colorado in his stall to honor him because horses are sacred to Native people. First, he put feathers in his mane. Then my husband put his hand in fine cornmeal to place his mark upon Colorado so he would be known on the other side as ours. He then did a ceremony and the mares started whinnying. He explained that the mares are the first to acknowledge a passing spirit. Shortly after the stallions joined then. He further said that now, he spirit has left this plane completely. (When the stallions join in, the work is complete.)

We had never lost a horse before and I personally have known them to live to fifty so here I was with a beloved stallion dead at the age of seven. We were again in a sorrow so deep we were speechless. That night I took Colorado's picture into my spirit room where I have all of my altars and placed it on my animal altar. I lit a candle for him and cried until my whole body hurt. I went to bed, crying silently as we Irish often do.

I have learned one thing from all of my astral travels. There are many places and many realms and no two are alike (so far). Sometimes the experience can get lost in the memory in transit back into the body so sometimes there are very odd things within the realm as if to help. Things that I can program myself to remember when I wake up which, in turn, triggers the memory of the experience notice.

It was twilight. It was not day and it was not night. I was walking along a dirt road. I really did not know why I was there. Suddenly, coming up the road toward me was an Indian. He was rather old and dressed in brown. This was not unusual to me. I have seen amazing things in my travels but what was odd was the fact that he was driving a Jeep! I thought to myself, why would anyone need a jeep over here? Why would an Indian be driving a jeep? I then said to myself. This does not belong. It is a trigger factor that I must remember. Remember the Indian in the Jeep; remember the Indian in the Jeep. I repeated this to myself over and over again. As he drove closer, he smiled. I smiled back and nodded my head. Then he pointed toward the road he had just come from and I knew he was telling me whatever it was I was there for was in that direction. I began walking. I did not walk far when there he was! Colorado stood in the middle of the road. "Colorado!" I gasped which I thought must have been a scream but as, usual, there was no sound. He stood in his former majesty, neck arched, head proud, mane and tail as it had always been. He walked toward me. I saw the feathers in his mane and then the handprint on his chest, where my husband had placed his hand. He stopped in front of me and put his head on my shoulder. He then pulled me gently toward him until my shoulder was under his throat with his head and jaw on my shoulder blade. I put my arms around him and I could feel the power of muscle.

He was whole and powerful and more alive than he could ever have been if he lived. As it always is with these travels, I awoke the next morning in my bed. The first thought that came into my mind was an Indian driving a Jeep. And then, I remembered....

When one loves animals as we do, their passing is losing family. We have had dogs and cats that have lived to twenty! We have others that died prematurely. Each one is a painful loss but is our beliefs that get us through. Native Americans call all things "people". There are rock people, plant and tree people and animal people. They all have spirit. I felt the power of our Mother Earth's people as well but those experiences are for another time but even for Mother's people there is life after life. We observe this with each turn of the wheel with every change of season, don't we? As for my animal people, they have souls. They have 'told' me so.

HER GODMOTHER BOOK TRAILER, Produced by Valkyrie Publishing, thresachaze.com

Starting Over

In my book, HER GODMOTHER, Allie is on a journey to starting over. Everyone finds themselves in the position of having to start over at some point in their life. It could be starting over from a divorce, starting over after the death of a spouse or relocating. Starting over is never easy and often painful. Yet, it is sometimes necessary to start over and all we can do is go about it as graciously as we can.

How can we ease our transition in starting over? Sometimes it is the little things that can help. Light a candle for yourself for a change. Pick a color that reflects your area of need: blue for mental tranquility, white for purpose, yellow for courage and so on. Pray for yourself and ask others to pray for you. Prayers work and a little prayer in the morning and one at night can go a long way and the benefits can be immediate. You can immediately feel more in control of your circumstances by doing just a couple supplications a day.

Pamper yourself. When life is challenging it becomes very easy to let ourselves fall by the wayside. Don't become an unwise spendthrift but buy something you really want or save for it but do treat yourself to something special. Don't isolate yourself. This also can become an easy thing to do as we muddle through uncomfortable changes. Call a good friend and simply tell them what you are going through. I have called my best friend and honestly shared that I was in a bad space and was self isolating and that I called to snap out of it. There is nothing wrong with getting some help or a good laugh from a friend. I was faced with starting over when, at the age of thirty-two, I was widowed with a five year old daughter. I often called a close cousin who had an outrageous sense of humor and who could make me laugh no matter what. You see sometimes we simply have to want out of the discomfort or pain instead of chaining ourselves to it. Develop your spirituality. It can be a security blanket during uncertain times. Spirituality cannot be defined as religion for it also encompasses acquiring valid coping skills that can include meditation and emotional time outs.

Starting over is not always adventurous and fun. If faced with it later in life it can be extremely unsettling. Sometimes starting over as a result of painful life experiences can leave us feeling lost and unable to gain our equilibrium. This can result in times feeling hellish but remember that whereas "religion is for those that believe in Hell spirituality is for those that have been there." (Author unknown)

HER GODMOTHER BOOK TRAILER, Produced by Valkyrie Publishing, thresachaze.com

Teary Moments

Links to childhood come from the oddest places. There are some foods that bring back a childhood memory, or a song or a word or a movie.

I was talking with a friend last night who mused about how she watched the old Haley Mills/Rosalind Russell movie, The Trouble With Angles. We are both Pagans so it is interesting how we will watch religious themed movies reminiscent of the faith of our youth even though we have walked from it.

We were both raised Catholic. There is nothing wrong with anyone who practices this faith. It is just that for us, our spiritual path took us elsewhere yet, I admitted to her how I love this movie too despite being as far away from the tenets of Catholicism.

She shared that at the end of the movie she felt foolish to admit she cried! I shared that I get misty eyed when I watch that movie too. So, the question for these two Pagans was why? Why would we cry? Why would we get misty eyed? It is very simple.

This is symbolic of a childhood lost during the process called life. It is also symbolic of so many things that happen in life that, as children, we could have never envisioned: the experience of the death of a dearly beloved, the disability of a parent, alcoholism in the family and so on.

Crying at a movie such as this brings waves of remembering the childhood faith that seemed somehow to insure nothing could go wrong because we just believed and we cry because we mourn that wonderful naiveté that is intrinsic with childhood. As we get older we seek to recreate this feeling as a tool toward success. We seek to find hope, trust and faith.

Many of us seek this reinstatement of the self through business and others, like myself seek spirituality first as the springboard of coping with past hurts and toward evolving into a mentally healthy person that can see and grasp success.

Regardless of what we may have achieved in our personal goals, there will be that word, song, movie and memory that can make us cry, make us grieve for what we perceived as lost forever. But reactions such as these can also mirror the work we have yet to do on ourselves as we travel the path to meeting our personal best.

Tears are healthy. They release toxicity from the body, mind and spirit so a few tears now and then regardless of the why is actually healthy and, in terms of self inventory tears can help us take the next step to personal healing.

I guess if we ever feel blocked in anyway watching a movie we know will stir our emotions just might help us discover what we need to work on in order to remove a temporary block.

In short the trouble was not with “Angles”, as far as my friend and I were concerned, perhaps the trouble was temporarily with us.

In HER GODMOTHER the troubled little girl that is the main character comes to terms with her heartache...

HER GODMOTHER BOOK TRAILER, produced by Valkyrie Publishing, theresachaze.com

A Walk In TheRain

As parts of the northeast face downpours of rain I empathize. In 2006 our area was devastated with a major flood and repairs in my county will never be completed in truth. Consequently, we watch weather very carefully here in upstate New York. As luck would have it I was in NYC when the flood hit and my husband was alone to face raging waters, the inability to get to the barn to check on the horses, then tracking them when they got out because the fence line broke and so on and so on. It was so bad there was no way to get home for over a week! As I write this Maine is getting ten inches of rain and I pray they will not suffer the several feet of water we all suffered that year of that flood.

Today I walked around the pond with my elder mare who I have been rehabilitating for some time now. Fear of losing her for quite a few years left me grateful that she is sound and out of her full retirement. She and I make a good pair...both arthritic going through our paces of being just plain strong and able to be come back queens.
The rain drizzled on us at first and then came down heavier but that was no problem as I have always enjoyed a walk in the rain. She, on the other hand, made faces at me as if to say "Are we done yet?" It was one of those times when the elements allow you to take stock of the moment and magically the moment is suspended as you watch not just a rain of water but a rain of autumn leaves falling as the wind loosens them from the trees. It is a suspended moment when everything just feels the way it is supposed to feel: right. It is a time to reflect that there should be no reason not to feel this mental calm all the time other than because...just because we let life get in the way.

Like so many, life has gotten in my way many times and frankly, there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could be done. Do not get me wrong I am a believer in reinvention. I have done it many times myself-recovering from illnesses and disabilities that would have just plain put others away for good. Over the years as I was forced to remake myself mentally, physically and creatively. As a result I developed Quantum Spirituality, The Science of Change. (You can find the link on my page.)

So, I believe in overcoming but I also know what being in an iron box is like too. Today, there were no iron boxes other than the current preoccupation that had plagued me all week and I allowed it to take over for a bit--far longer than I should have for sure. But, isn't that always the case? After all we are human. We will have those triggers that challenge the space we have worked so hard to create.
But in this walk in the rain preoccupation was washed away and replaced with gratitude for where I really am--in the self manifested little farm that was first created with the daydreams of a little girl growing up in a poor ghetto long, long ago.

Rain is good. Rain is my friend.

Rain plays a pivotal role for the main character in my book, HER GODMOTHER. See the trailer:

Books that are about magic (CHRONICLES OF NARNIA, THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY and HARRY POTTER) continue to elicit rising interest in the magical genre and this book will have appeal to children and adults alike. Unlike Harry Potter books, Her Godmother is a true depiction of magic as practiced in the magical/Wiccan community. Her Godmother also addresses the disease of alcoholism and shows it is not influenced by income nor ethnicity. The AA program is introduced as are some of the steps as tools for healing the wounds children and adult children of alcoholics carry within. As an adult child of an alcoholic this is a situation I have personally experienced. HER GODMOTHER educates about this disease and provides insight into the healing process while creating an imaginative and enchanting novel.

About the book:

Allie is experiencing a family breakup. Her father is an alcoholic. Her mother decides to have Allie stay with her godmother in upstate rural New York while she makes plans to start life over and relocate so although magic is a large part of this story, HER GODMOTHER is a creative tale of coping and rethinking how to heal by discovering joy in a mundane yet disappointing world.

While upstate Allie learns about the the wonder of wildlife. Adding to the fun mix of delightful events is Jasper, the squirrel that taps on her godmother's window, Sally the rotund cat who is a magical character with a story of her own, the family of skunks that live under the house, the bats that live in the roof and Jupiter the nonmagical, mischievous huge mutt. Allie is having a wonderful time until one night, when awakened by a thunderstorm, she peeks out of her window to see her godmother dancing on the lawn in the rain. Who is this woman her mother sent her to stay with? What Allie is about to discover is that her godmother is rather "colorful" or should we say...

It is important to note that although HER GODMOTHER is mystical no one is changed into cats nor does anyone fly on broomsticks. Readers venture with Allie on the Wiccan path to healing and discover with her that ordinary life is really a series of enchantments that will capture the hearts of both children and adults.

Witches are among us and like Brigid (the godmother) live quietly in every community. HER GODMOTHER dispels erroneous thinking about the gentle, caring belief of Wicca which is authentic on its depiction. As a adult child of an alcoholic, Cate weaves the complexity of tis controversy while fostering a deeper understanding of alcoholism and its impact on families, especially children.

The back drop of this book is Livingston Manor, the town in which Cate lives. As the denizens of this town know the weather is rather quirky. This book is authentic in bringing this town to life so the reader can be entertained with the charm and weather unpredictability of this area in Sullivan County, New York.

HER GODMOTHER has a writing style that is easy for children to read while not "writing down" so that the story and style alike will also attract adult readers. The beauty of this book is that it cannot be put into a box that limits readership. It will be appealing to adults, children, those interested in magic as well as those familiar with the heartache of alcoholism.

About Cate: She is a practicing Witch whose my first book, GIFTS OF THE SPIRIT, continues to receive rave reviews. she is also a published poet whose work has appeared in poetry anthologies. I am also a published print columnist, had a political program on WJJ, an NPR affiliate, as well as a podcast political commentator on Internet Radio Voices. Her work has also appeared in Lightsouce, SelfGrowth and Espirit. She is frequent contributor to Witchvox.
She was asked toto write the forward for widely known metaphysician within the spiritual community, Myriam Maytorena. Her book, LIFE WITH MOTHER, is a touching story of care giving for her mother during the end stages of her life.

Combining the elements of magic, the profundity of alcoholism and fun HER GODMOTHER will be the next feel good book of the year.

Popular author Janet Elaine Smith wrote the forward and excerpted part of this forward as an endorsement on the back cover. Known Wiccan author, Theresa Chaze also wrote a review for the back cover as well.

HER GODMOTHER is available through Barnes and noble, other fine bookstores, barnesandnoble.com and amazon.com

Respectfully,

Cate Cavanagh

A Talk With An Old Friend

I had a nice talk with a dear friend of mine today. We go 'way back to our younger days of going to discos and clubs and making candlelit dinners for ourselves just because we deserved it! We dyed each other's hair, made homemade face creams, did facials while listening to music and gossiping. Her apartment was my haven during a time is of severe grief in which I suffered a severe nervous breakdown. The truth is I owe her my life for she was my "mother hen".

She hasn't changed much through the years either. She is as youthful as ever and no, I will NOT say her age other than she is a Michelle Pfeiffer look alike. My daughter and her son are both grown and, true to the type of mothers we were (for better or worse), they each as the saying goes march to their own drums. In my daughter's case, she makes her own drums!

Life gave each of us hardships that we wondered how we endured, we each lost beloveds and today, as in my younger days, I listened to her wisdom. We were talking about the whys of life. Why does one person suffer recurring bouts of cancer while another cannot survive one. Why do some people's lives seem only peppered with sorrow while others meet sorrow on their journey over and over again.

She said, "We will go crazy if we analyze why this and why that. Sometimes we have to accept that this is how life is." (She is a hospice Christian Chaplain and sees death and dying everyday) Recently she helped an elderly friend get into a nursing home near her home so she can look over her. She, like I, wonder (or perhaps fear) what our old age will be like. "I look at Betty (our friend) and realize that time is too short to waste on worrying. This is the time for laughter and to not let anything bother you. We each have to find a way to just accept and not waste our lives in worry and fear and death will come for all of us anyway. I want to just live my life to the fullest.

I, like so many other people, sometimes languish in the shadow of past memories. Beyond nostalgia, it is a place of loss and missed opportunities. Recently I went through a period of mourning my losses over the years and those who have read my writings know they have been many. The hardest part of moving forward from personal loss is the guilt of moving forward. It is as if moving forward is somehow a betrayal, somehow we feel deep down inside that it is wrong to stop grieving. But we never stop grieving. It just takes on a different persona in the guise of "adjusting". There is nothing wrong with moments of sadness for what was or what wasn't. The problem becomes how can we move forward joyfully?

I began to work myself through this period by getting up very early every morning and having my coffee and barn chores done early. I began exercising more and redecorated the living room with my husband. These are all steps to moving forward when stuck in a mental space we want to get out of.

Talking to old friends who knew you way back when one week you were a blond, the next a red head helps too. Remembering the fun reignites the feeling and the brain cannot tell a real experience from a remembered or imagined one so recalling laughter uplifts in the present which is another step in moving forward.

We had our conversation much earlier in the day and when I hung up I had no idea our heart to heart would become my blog today. Writers are funny that way. It can be a picture or a song or a cow that brings forth some tidbit of writing but today it was reconnecting with a dear friend.

We spoke of getting together with the gaggle of gals we used to hang out with in a hotel room with booze, pajamas and food and just laughing about the old days. Oh, and we won't cook our meal. We've earned the right to be served!

Moving forward is what I wrote about today. You have read the blog already. In Her Godmother, the main character struggles to move forward while having to face her father's alcoholism. Her Godmother shows how there is everyday magic that can heal. Life is the same way. Sometimes the magic in a talk with an old friend...

Mirror, Mirror

We in spiritual circles sometimes talk about "mirroring". What we mean by this is that someone or circumstances reflect who we really are by how we react to these situations. If, for example, we are impatient with someone who has a short temper there is a strong possibility that we, ourselves, may tend to have short fuses. In other words we experience irritation at the very trait we have in which case this "mirror" enables us to look at ourselves.

Mirrors such as these take all forms. This past 4th of July weekend I became really angry at a neighbor across the road. Mind you in all the years that we have been neighbors we have only ever exchanged a hello when we see each other. I am a funny person this way. If I feel cool toward someone when I meet them I listen to my intuition. My choosing not be friendly is usually just a preference to not allow someone in to my personal space and life. But I wander...

In actuality I have never been annoyed with these neighbors until this past 4th. I happened to look across my driveway to see that there, in view of the road was the Confederate flag. I became furious! How dare they put up that flag instead of the US flag! I know my history and intellectually know that today, many New Southerners consider this flag a symbol of a failed attempted to become their own nation. Sound familiar? But to me this more prominently represents a time in which people were considered property with no rights and who often suffered horrible abuses. I am of mixed heritage. My father was Irish-English but my mother was Puerto Rican of Taino, Spanish and African heritage. In fact, my own great grandmother had been taken from her African homeland by a Spaniard and brought to Puerto Rico against her will so the issue of slavery is one that is in my family history.

I fumed! I was trying to think of something I could put up on my lawn to infuriate him in return. As a Pagan, I know the inequities suffered for these beliefs as well. But, the truth of the matter is I, as a Pagan, am judged by people of extreme persuasions and the violent hatred expressed towards Pagans is documented historically and still happens today. But, I am out of the broom closet so to speak and have blatant and ornate altars on my front porch which is visible to the road all year around. I am sure this irritates and even infuriates some people but I am expressing myself on my private property and this "self" expression is a right.

As a writer, no matter how loathsome someone may be, such as a Clan leader, I must respect his right to his opinion and to state it. For if one person loses the right of freedom of expression it is only a matter of time before we all do. So, here I was flaming mad about my neighbor forgetting at the time that he was expressing himself just as much as I do by my front porch altar displays.

My anger was my mirror in that I became acutely aware that weekend of exactly how sensitive I really am about certain philosophies, about the suffering the ancestor I never knew went through as a Black and as a woman. All of this came ripping up to the surface the moment I saw that flag. So, the real issue here is not political from a spiritual point of view although it certainly was part of it. The real issue is what I am angry about.

The purpose of a mirror is not to so much outwardly act as much as it is to become inwardly aware of powerful reactions and examine the usefulness of the emotions. The anger I felt was useless. It was not going to change his hanging his flag. As an artist I cannot refute his right to freedom of expression for here, at least for the time being, we are free to express ourselves as we please. The useful thing to do was the simplest of outcomes: realize there is anger under my cool surface and to work it out in time. Realization is the first step for if we are honest with ourselves, we are probably angry about a lot of things we simply have not looked at for a long,long time.

So, my "reflection" was of a side of my persona I needed to rediscover and come to terms with.

As for my neighbor--may he live in peace--until Halloween when my displays will be grander than ever before!!!!!



How about taking a journey where enchantment balms a hurting soul? Her Godmother is rich with everyday enchantments that heals the heart....

Click here to see the book trailer:

Finally! We here in upstate New York have a prediction of no rain for the next couple of days! There is a wonderful breeze coming through my window as I type and the sun is shining above in a clear, cloudless sky. More importantly, there is no humidity!

Amidst this blessing from Mother Goddess so much is happening and these happenings invade the tranquility of the day. There is more destabilization in the Middle East which may place us in yet another war, there are campaign spokesmen claiming on one side that American fears concerning the economy are "mental" recessions and, on the other side a prominent activist making derogatory remarks about his party's candidate albeit on the side while thinking taping had halted.

I don't think I need to go over all the issues that are at play during this election for it is obvious that this year's election will be the most historic probably since JFK.

What I do think needs to be said is that spirituality, which impacts on our lives on an individual basis, needs to concern itself with the things that matter within our immediate circle of family and friends, country and globally. What things are these? Everyone should have the hope of at least a promise of bettering one's circumstances. Everyone should TAKE FOR GRANTED that their children will not go hungry, be uneducated or suffer any type of "ism"-- racism, sexism and religious discrimination. Everyone should be able to receive medical care. We should all demand a world of reconciliation that is free from fear of any kind, including the continued natural disasters that can no longer be disassociated with global warming.

Look. I know everyone and every group has their "vested" interests and frankly, in their own way their rationalizations are not to totally rejected. Diplomacy is as tainted as the hallowed halls of Congress so as far as world leadership goes all of our futures may boil down to a poorly played game of chess...

All any of us can do is work toward integrating peace within our own lives and finding this peace in the everyday world around us as we wait and are hopefully praying for our global community. Yes, I said praying. To me it does not matter what you believe. Prayer, meditation is documented to heal and most of us do indeed believe in miracles! As a quantum metaphyisician, I also believe prayer and meditation does indeed impact on circumstances. For more on this, please visit my website quantumspirituality.tripod.com and peruse the free online newsletters you will find there.

In my newest book, Her Godmother, Allie comes to terms with her father's drinking and discovers a new path for herself through the power of everyday magic. We can do this for ourselves and play our own little part in spiritually impacting on our world one prayer at a time...

Am I Really Here?

Okay. I have determined that I am a fluke of the Universe. I am a specter with some kind of supernatural yearning to be real. I do not exist. The Cyber universe tells me so. Please bear with me as this evidently nonexistent person, author, daughter, wife, and mother comes to this conclusion. Everything and everyone is on the web. Cate Cavanagh is all over web, all over google and just about every search engine there is. Cate Cavanagh has been an NPR radio affiliate broadcaster and podcaster. Cate Cavanagh is listed on amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com as well as other online book stores. Cate Cavanagh has books in bookstores, including Barnes and Noble. Cate Cavanagh has a laudable professional and creative resume but, am I really here or a spectral- lurker who is simply just too stupid to know that I am not her or she is not me?

During the last several years I have had three myspace pages. They have all been lost. When "I" inquired myspace told me I did not exist. I have in the last week rejoined and did three more pages only to have them blip off. Once again myspace told me I do not exist.

I began this blog and, low and behold, my "appearance" here seems like something out of the Twilight Zone where a specter fades in and then out...Will I be here when I complete this blog? My blog is here one minute and then gone the next. I do not know but then I do not really know if I exist anyway.

I have had websites-zip-gone-never was.

So, I decided not to be deterred and go the new big connection website-facebook. Well, I have signed on twice as I write this and my password is said to be wrong. I reset the password and although I get signed in, it is not the "right" password for going further than that.

So, I have this little dilemma that vexes me greatly- Do I really know we exist? It seems I don't. I find myself having bizarre musings. For example, in science it is said that something blue is not blue at all. It's just everything else that is not blue. An orange is not orange but rather every other color is absorbed EXCEPT orange which is what we see. I look in the mirror and therefore must conclude that the image I see is merely a rejected range of colors that make up my green eyes, freckled face and red hair so, with scientific fact in hand I look at myself and realize that who I see is not really there at all so the me I see simply does not exist.

Apparently cyperspace has come to the same conclusion so the question becomes if I am not Cate, then who am I am? Will the real Cate please stand up and finish rewriting the books I still have lurking in the back of my mind? Will the real Cate clean my house and do the luandry and cooking for me? I am apparently living your life...enough already! Live Your own.

But, if you must insist I live your life will you please take over my life and replace it with heavenly spas, swimming pool, a huge boat, an estate stable, landscapers and room service?

Do this person-whose existence is questionable- a favor. Please go to you tube and view the book trailer for the book some other Cate wrote. Thanks.

Enchantments are all around us!

To watch video click here:

Find out what everyone is talking about!

Allie begins her magical adventure as her mother takes her to her Godmother while she works out the issues in her life. Surrounded by woods, Allie finds new adventures and a path to healing as Aunt Bridget shows her how to find the magic not only in herself but miracles in the world around her. Harry Potter was taken to a world separate from the mundane; Allie learns that magic is not only real, but is part of every day life.

An uplifiting novel of healing and enchantment...

Available at fine bookstores, barnesandnoble.com and amazon.com
Be sure to view the book trailer above and find out what everyone is talking about!

For The Greater Good

“And it harm none” is the common mantra of Pagans during ritual and prayer and just as often “for the greater good” is another.
As a Witch and Pagan with a strong Wicca background philosophically, these are safety tenets that prevent all of us from manipulating circumstances, even subconsciously, that might incur a karmic debt to ourselves or inadvertently manipulate another person.

I was raised Catholic and, truth be told, I even wanted to be a nun in my youth. As a Catholic, the safeguard against to “Hell” was confession. If one died without confession or last rites then the “karmic debt” was be Purgatory-that in between place where one would remain until debts were paid after which point entrance to “Heaven” would be granted.

I bring this up because in all of the religions and nontraditional beliefs I have studied, this is a common feature: in Buddhism, “purgatory” amounts to Bordo land for example, there is the fire and brimstone teachings we are all aware of but there are also beliefs that teach the soul will “sleep” until ready to awaken and begin anew.

So what does all of this have to with work for the “greater good?” I call myself Witch but I am also (what I coined) a quantum metaphysician. On my journey of evolving into this I evaluated “and it harm none”, “for the greater good”, karmic debt and other similar beliefs extensively. (My book, GIFTS OF THE SPIRIT, studies karma in great detail. Please note this book is no longer available by my choice.

Simply put, Karma is payment for past errors or noble work. Most people have come to associate the word with bad luck. Karma, despite what many may think, is not random. Somewhere along the line we put an ‘effort’ into our own Karma. I write extensively on the topic of energy conversion, which is the foundation of my spiritual school, QUANTUM SPIRITUALITY, The Science of Change. In my work, I ask readers to look at how we affect such conversion and subsequent outcomes by our deeds, our thoughts, our words or CHOICES. Our deeds are what we actively do. Lying and then being discovered for our lies is a basic example of how karma can play out for who would trust a known liar ever again?

But, as a Quantum Metaphysician, I concluded life can be a matter of the choices we make: who did we decide to marry? Who did we decided to leave? Did we relocate? What did we choose as our livelihood? Why did we make these choices? The result of these choices is karma.

What if, when we were still spirit-fluff, we decided we needed to learn a new experience as a challenge to our soul’s muscle? What if at that time, we realized we may not have been good people in our past lives and chose to pay our debt? What if we decided to pay that debt in the NEXT LIFETIME rather than wait until further down the line? We have then selected a life theme. (We could have also chosen success because we want a ‘vacation’ from spiritual growth or a reward for much spirituality learned.) But, let’s stay with paying our painful “debt”. We may have chosen illness, poverty or an untimely death. Why would we choose this painful purpose in a next lifetime? Perhaps in our spiritual evolution we opted to learn how fixed and resolved our true souls can be in unknowing lifetimes and to determine whether or not we have learned enough over many reincarnations to master our spirit power.

Many people believe that the goal of the soul is to join the godhead (the universe, the Creator, Heaven). This theme is in Hinduism, Buddhism and others. What would be the purpose of this joining? To be part of the “Creator”, Divine healing and nurturing, the power of the divine and possibly even creation itself. If we look at the perfection of the earth, mankind’s interference aside, it is perfect. It functions on it own, heals itself and regenerates itself. Even climatic cataclysms are all part of healing. As its children, might we not also have all these inherent entitlements? The same can be said for the Universe. Therefore, must not we, as spiritual forces, aim to perfect energy management in the form of spirit power as we strive for the ultimate goal of joining The Divine to better perpetuate this power? Cannot mastering the molding of a lifetime be worth the pain in the infinite run? So, although we all may have a karmic debt, what part of our lives is truly karma?

I have seen many use karma as a “crutch”. From people believing “It is the will of God” to “For the good of all” sometimes it is overlooked that yes, we make our own karma- by our wishes, deeds and also by our lack of doing anything! We may all reach an awareness as to what our karma is supposed to be but can we know every instance? Does living in hardship mean this is our real karma for the rest of our lives? What if the real karma comes in as a result of what we choose to do about our hardships? What if, it is karmically within our power to change our lives for the better, insofar as karmic commitment is not concreted in our present existence? Don’t we, as beings with untapped spirit power, have even a responsibility for mastering whatever can be mastered in our lifetime and changing our circumstances? Is this not also a karma that can impact on the next life as well?

What if the real “test” for our souls and spirit power is whether or not we recognize the goal of mastering and creating or recreating a preferred reality? What if our karmic entitlement is actualizing a life’s potential?
Can this be done without “harming none” and “for the greater good?”

Having the eclectic background that I do, I believe firmly in maintaining a belief system. We must all have some moral compass or even the science of reinvention will fall into the realm of Chaos and that is a dangerous place. But if, as I teach, there is science in all things majickal we can begin to look at entitlements in life as a matter of quantum physics that does not have to take from someone else at all in order for us to improve ourselves and our lives.

We all know we can harm with majick but, where does it say helping others or ourselves for that matter is unethical?

For every instance that we use the karmic crutch for a reason to not act in our own best interests, or the interests of someone in need of help and healing, are we not also incurring a karmic debt for not honoring ourselves enough or for not applying the gift of healing we have been given?

How does healing come into this? As with anything karmic, death can be or not be a matter of a lifetime’s run. But, can any of us really know? I myself have had several near death experiences for example and although they were what I call optional exit points, I chose for them not to be. Working to heal someone of a terminal disease is not against the greater good for as our Deities determine we cannot work against anyway. But, what if we and the person we are working on to heal are to be messengers of hope and living proof of spirit power? Is it not also true then that by not acting to create a change, we are also toying with karma and the debt we could incur by allowing our fear to prevent us from bringing light to someone, anyone?

There are some Pagans who, because of concerns about karma, live their beliefs with as much grace as possible. Not all are meant to be “movers and shakers” and this is a blessing for those who walk the neutral, peaceful path are as important to the whole as those of us called to more dynamic forms of service. But, fear of repercussions or karma need not be part of resisting one’s potential majickally for in the end, “the will of God” and “the greater good” will win out.

You can read more about Quantum Spirituality on my website, quantumspirituality.tripod.com

Don't forget to scroll down and view the book trailer for my new book, Her Godmother!

Blessings!

Her Godmother-A Magical Adventure for Children; Book trailer

To watch video click here:

Allie begins her magical adventure as her mother takes her to her Godmother while she works out the issues in her life. Surrounded by woods, Allie finds new adventures and a path to healing as Aunt Bridget shows her how to find the magic not only in herself but miracles in the world around her. Harry Potter was taken to a world separate from the mundane; Allie learns that magic is not only real, but is part of every day life.