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READING LIFE DEEPER November 2004 Zine Issue 30 by ROSE ROSETREE In this issue: finding community Looking
for community? Join
these free online discussion groups hosted by Lisa Paradis: Free face reading report by mail! Join
either or both of these forums. Every time you post, your
name is added to a drawing. The winner of this month’s drawing will
receive the Freebie. The
more often you post, the better your chance of winning. ROSE'S LATEST MEDIA INTERVIEWS: Listen for Rose’s Interview #603:
Gone is “The Curse of The
Bambino.” It began in 1918, right after the Red Sox won the World
Series. Because team owner Harry
Frazee needed cash, he sold his contract for legendary player Babe Ruth.
And once “The Bambino” moved over to the Yankees, they started winning like
crazy. Although the team never had won a World Championship before, in 86 years
they bested the rest of the country an amazing 26 times. Meanwhile, the
poor Red Sox were doomed to lose every single year. But this season, the Red Sox made their
comeback, breaking the curse, winning the World Series. I couldn’t wait
to read the face and aura of pitcher Pedro Martinez, one of the team’s most
important players. To bring you the highlights, I’ll go
back and forth between his face and aura. But before that, why not read
Pedro Martinez for yourself? This
picture shows you his face, while this torso
shot will help you read his aura especially easily.
Incidentally, if you didn’t know that you could read auras from a regular photo, well! I invite you to get one or both of these
how-to’s: Aura Reading Through
All Your Senses or the video, Thrill
Your Soul. They’ll help you step up to the plate and
get in the aura reading game. You can develop a perfect batting average at
reading auras. FACE: Pedro’s distinctive
ultra-wide philtrum reveals something fascinating about his life force
energy. Take a good look at the twin ridges between his nose and mouth.
They’re unusually far apart, as well as super-long. This tells you, the
face reader, that Pedro’s vigor is super-sized. He can perform with
intensity and go for longer than most. Yes, if you were his date this
dynamic could have a rather personal relevance, but another version has just
been shared with World Series fans worldwide. AURA: When you skip over to Pedro’s root
chakra (corresponding to the base of his
torso), you’ll find something comparable. Enormous vigor emanates from
this man. Let’s make an analogy between physical vitality and hits in a
ballgame. Plenty of people are the equivalent of a bunt. But this
man flies right out of the ball park. Even more fascinating, research
Pedro’s aura by asking about his
gifts of the soul at the level of physical life. Wow! The man is such an empath,
with Physical Oneness
galore. That’s a somewhat unusual, lifelong gift for directly
experiencing what it’s like to be other people in terms of how you feel in
your body. Physical sensations, even pain, often arise as a source of
knowledge about other people. (When you’re skilled, of course,
these sensations won’t stick to you. Yet one more reason for becoming a
skilled empath!) With Pedro Martinez, this empathic gift
has a special quality. It’s as though he’s a seraphim, the kind of angel
with more eyes than as peacock, and those eyes are looking in every
direction. In the ball-player’s case, that means being physically aware
of every player on the field. Could that be useful for psyching out a
hapless batter? FACE: Behold the mighty cheek padding of Pedro Martinez! One reason I love it is that it helps us disprove one of the nasty facial stereotypes that robs life of meaning. (If you’ve ever studied with me or read any of my books, you’ll know how much I relish this kind of demolition.) So, ever hear the myth that big cheeks
equal fat? Bah! The muscular Martinez just happens to have those
huge cheeks because his power base is huge. And if the muscle tone on
those cheeks is superb, it’s not because he takes the cheeks out for the
equivalent of Spring Training for Face Parts. His cheeks out-picture a
super-strong power base. Not bad for teamwork! AURA: At the
belly chakra (two inches below the navel), ask about creativity.
It’s huge for the Red Sox pitcher. What’s especially fascinating is
the source of his greatest inspiration. It’s rage. Make Pedro
Martinez angry and you’ll actually help him win… because you’ll set off
his greatest ingenuity. FACE: You know how to read eye angles, right? Imagine a dot at the corner of each eye, then connect with an imaginary line. Be sure to read this ballplayer’s eyes separately, because their angles are different. See that down-angled left eye? (That is the left side of his face, not the left side of the page. Remember to use the technical skill of a savvy face reader. Unless you’re seeing your own face in a mirror, “Go flippo” to tell right from left.) Most folks have two up-angled
eyes. Martinez’s left eye shows you that his personal history has
involved acute suffering. His eye angle is one place that emotional pain
has left its mark. To understand the meaning further, investigate his
aura. AURA: Each of us shows
distinctive gifts of the soul at every chakra, and sometimes those gifts grow
stronger through suffering. A perfect example is the power information at
the solar plexus chakra of Pedro Martinez.
He knows how to shut out the world, then create from within
himself. This is such an inspiration that I urge you empaths to use the
“Darshan” technique in Empowered
by Empathy to savor the experience. It can help to make you a
winner in life. SURPRISE: While researching this article, I stumbled upon this photo of Babe Ruth, that earlier great Red Sox Pitcher. Couldn’t resist taking a peek at his aura, too. You’re invited to check out his root chakra, just for fun. Yes, in one way he is exactly like Pedro
Martinez. The Bambino is also an empath with Physical Oneness. And
it gets better. He has the same highly unusual version of this gift, being
physically attuned to his environment, and all the people in it. Seraphim
eyes again, at the level of physical reality! Here’s my challenge to you. Are
you the kind of baseball fan who follows a team, notes the scores, compares the
statistics? Go back through photos of all the Red Sox pitchers between
Babe Ruth (who started as a pitcher) and Pedro Martinez. Read their auras,
especially their root chakras. I have a hunch you’ll find that, between
those two men, no other pitcher on the team has had this amazing kind of
Physical Oneness. When the folks who scout for
ball-playing talent read faces and auras, it will be easier to find players like
The Bambino and The Pedro. AMAZING VOYAGE Starting on January 1, 2005, the rates
for my sessions will go up (my first increase in a decade), from $100 to $125.
So this fall is a great time to schedule an appointment. Phone sessions
are just as effective as ones in person—this week I did my first one in Italy
and we’re now scheduling that client’s second session. Still, it’s extra fun to do sessions
in person. If you’re in one of these following places, see if you can
set up an appointment to have a session in person: Las
Vegas, here I come--this November, for a five-day expo. Expos are
usually three days, not five. And, given the reputation of this especially
wild part of the world, I think of this as an Amazing Voyage. How
amazing will it actually be? I’ll let you know. This November, I’ll also be going back
to my pretty wild home town, New York
City, doing two workshops, several days’ worth of sessions, and a talk
on aura reading at (amazingly) a prestigious art museum. And the travels continue. I’m so glad
that VOICE has booked me to return to Japan. I’ll be back in May and
September of 2005. Another aspect of my current Amazing
Voyage is this. The German publisher of Aura Reading Through All Your
Senses has just purchased the rights to another of my books… a new one
which I’m planning to publish next year. So now I find myself in an
unprecedented, delightful position. If I don’t get my publishing act together
pretty soon, this latest book could be published in German before it appears in
English. Is that wild or what? As for you in the rest of the world, if you’d like me to come give workshops in your city, send me an email. Teachers like me respond to people like you! walking on miracles Zine Reader: Here’s another
installment from my travel journal. It will soon be posted on my website,
too. So take a look in a week or so…. Two hours. That’s how long it takes me to clean up the seaweed. Ever the nutritionally ambitious traveler, back home I have packed my second suitcase with canned fish (emergency protein), plastic bags of vitamin supplements (guaranteed sensible eating) and a huge plastic jar of spirulina (one of my favorite foods, albeit a constant source of wonderment--if not horror--to my husband and son). Why my love for the green powder? This Celestial Perception-building nutrient invigorates my system super-fast. Or, admittedly, sometimes, slowly. Or even in reverse, as things turn out on this particular occasion. Alas, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean the unthinkable has happened. My plastic jar erupted like a quiet volcano, splaying its super-fine particles throughout my suitcase. Now I stand before my opened suitcase not knowing whether to laugh, to cry or to lick. Although still black on the outside, my Samsonite is jade green within. Particles rise up, a fine mist that leaves plenty of green below. I am about to have a close encounter of the third kind with my dear spirulina. Eight cans of salmon now have indelible emerald-bright rims. I can live with that. But what about my books? Opened up mid-air, a carton of 22 books I’d hoped to sell has been shaken like a snow globe in Green-land. I must gently dust each book, the outside of each edge, the inside of each cover. A faint fragrance lingers. Not your typical American book smell, if noticed it will only be an enticement to Japan’s seafood-loving people, right? I wish. Then come the toiletries. Shampoo, toothpaste, cosmetics, all of it must go through rehab. It definitely takes the oomph out of one’s vanity potions to wash them, rinse them, and repeat the cycle as though shampooing the hair of a hostile Green Goddess. Mess begets mess. Now I must vacuum my suitcase. And, oh my. The significant vacuuming job will be my bedroom carpet. Eventually the roaring vacuum cleaner subsides and I’m onto the really big job, mopping up Oz-green stains from the bathroom. As puddles ooze and spread, I realize that Spirulina works at least as well as those tiny bottles of food coloring one uses for frosting. Those bottles which I refuse to keep in my home! So often I’ve sworn at them because the pink birthday cake looks gorgeous but now the baker has red hands. In this case, I don’t even have the consolation of leftover frosting to eat, only pickle-colored puddles. Grunting, I escalate the intensity of my cleanup. Pathetic shredded toilet tissue gives way to paper towels. After these clump into utter uselessness, I turn to the hotel’s cushy monogrammed towels. Nicely absorbent, they work beautifully. Except I then must go after them with soap, to make sure I haven’t stained the reputation of my country along with the bath linens. I’m beginning to feel like Lady
Macbeth, without the guilt, but in grisly color. Will these hands ever be
clean? In a previous incarnation (within this very lifetime), I have read hymns from Hinduism’s Vedic scriptures. Many address Soma Pavamana, bringer of Celestial Perception:
Happy I’m not, in my new role as washerwoman. Never have I seen so many shades of bright, blaring green. At least, to my relief, the color isn’t permanent. Eventually the hotel’s carpets are safe, and so are my clothes. As a final touch, I towel off my sneakers. Quickly they revert to white. Except that I look again. And can hardly believe what I see. At each shoe, near the toe, the laces have been tinted turquoise. Turquoise blue, not green. The sight brings me back to one of my life’s most sacred memories. Having moved back to New York City in 1975, I went shopping for a house of worship—one of my first acts wherever this wandering Jew relocates. Fourteen different establishments did I try out before I found the one that was right for me: The Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, with C.S. Lewis-like sermons by Rev. David Reed and an ineffable quality of grace within the sanctuary’s walls. After much soul searching, I asked to be baptized. Thus it happened that, one special Sunday, I went to church for my special ceremony. A light rain fell as I walked from my bus to the church. Even the rain felt sweet, my heart was so full of singing joy. Once inside the building, I discovered that both my hands had turned blue, turquoise blue. It wouldn’t wash out in the sink. So I went through my service, pretty new clothes and all, yet my hands an indelible shade of turquoise. What had happened? Common sense could—yet couldn’t really—explain. Yes, last month I’d polished my shoes. But no, they were navy blue, not turquoise. Yes, stray polish had clearly washed off in the rain. But why now? Why not weeks before? And why on my hands, nowhere else? Miraculous, that’s how it seemed to me in 1976. Fast forward a decade and I learned the next part of the story. Thanks to a talented, generous teacher, Susan Kingsley Rowe, I was led through my first past-life regression. Her goal was to take me to the lives that would inspire me most, so she spent five hours taking me through them. One of the incarnations I experienced had me as one of the thousands who studied with Jesus. Meeting him, I felt the air around me chime and great joy sing in my heart. Later in that lifetime, like many, I learned the laying on of hands for healing. At the end of this regression, I saw myself dying. An old man, I was much loved as a healer. My hands were wrinkled, calloused, tender. Their accumulated love and power were almost physically visible. Aha! I put the puzzle pieces together. Those turquoise hands, back in New York, had been reminders because I was linking to the tradition I’d served before. And now, as I pause in my ablutions on my first day in Tokyo, another piece of my life’s puzzle falls into place. In slow- motion astonishment, my head opens up, my heart goes “Ah.” Here I am, traveling once again as healer. In this life, I’m teaching a different message, bringing different techniques. Nonetheless, it’s the same old story. And I’m still giving my life in service to God. Now I have the shoes to prove it. DEBUNKER, SURPRISED This October, I did a phoner interview
for the BBC. Actor Brendon O’Carroll had just been interviewed and he
was invited to stay around to comment on my comments about him. After I
read his face and aura, there was dead silence—not a really desirable thing to
have on air time. So I asked for his opinion. A
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