Welcome to saga craft myths, fairytales, legends stories, comfort us, inspire us and heal us. Please join us as we share stories both old and no more than anything. We're open to the story and it's unfolding at times. It may be one story told by one person at times it's the same story told through three different voices.
In the end, we go where the story takes us and we invite you to follow. I'm C a writer, artist, and storyteller. I'm Betsy, a medium and teacher of mystery traditions. I'm Gabriela, an artist and practitioner of folk magic. We are magical in training today. We'll be exploring the world of the familiar and this reality.
And another reality that's married to ours. The familiar, the fetch, the animal co Walker, and here are three different takes on that. I mean, it start. So this is my story. Tess's unfamiliar, familiar tests, sobbed quietly in her bed. The sounds muffled by her tear. Drenched quilt. Her scalp still smarted from the brisk and somewhat angry hair brushing that her mother had given her before tucking her under the covers and snapping off the light test.
This curly hair always seemed to take the brunt of her mother's anger or disapproval. When her footsteps proceeded down the stairs, tests, tears had begun. She wasn't crying about her hair, though. It did still hurt. What had happened earlier that day in the pet store was where her misery, because the worst part, it was that she had been so certain that the little Lafayette rabbit was the pet that she'd been looking for.
She'd been searching for a few years. Her mother had told her each time she fell head over heels in love with an animal, a tropical bird or a snake at the pet store that it was not appropriate for her. The way she said it with a tight lip look of disapproval made her own disappointment feels so much worse.
The pet store owner always looked at tests with a little worry line between his brows. When this happened, she knew, he felt sorry for her and would try to comfort her by letting her help with some of the small tasks of maintaining and caring for the animals. When tests was there by herself. He was very careful to be non-committal when tests would exclaim in rapture over a new arrival, we'll see when your mother comes, he would say kindly, he didn't want to make it any worse for the little girl.
He had his suspicions about her mother, but keeping out of people's business is what had kept him in business in this little town. As test as tears continue the memory of the soft and warm little rabbit body with the extra long ears began to fade her dreams of the rabbit, Hutch and basket filled with doll sized quilts for the bunny to snuggle and also faded.
Eventually as your tears slowed down, she heard the wind moving through the trees and the bare branches beginning to tap on her bedroom window tops that were very clear. Now that the leaves had all the dropped away, the clouds rushed past in a sky with a nearly full moon. Sometimes shading it, then revealing the moons, luminous or shape.
The branch tapping continue sometimes random, sometimes seeming to be in the pattern of a little song, sleep little one's sleep. She could almost hear the wind singing to her sleep. Sweethearted girl you're waiting is almost over sleep. Little one's sleep. The tapping the wind. They almost heard some load tests into a comfortable drowsiness and then into a dream that began with her wanting to rise up out of her bed and open the window without fear or concern.
She did this as though it was entirely natural at the open window. The cool air and windy night prompted her to put on her Willie robe and slippers. She climbed up onto the windows, so leaned out and then fell. For just a moment then to her delight, she caught the wind and with her rope, billowing, just a little, she began to glide as light as this'll down into the night.
A tiny part of her knew she was dreaming. The rest of her was in the adventure that this dream offered her, escaping her room and it's layers of loneliness. Taking one last look at where she had been at the house with a gabled roof and the few lights still shining in the windows. She turned and looked resolutely forward.
She felt free. The wind carried her for some time until she found herself in one of the clouds scuttling across the face of the moon. She felt the damp Misty cloud all around her as the wind began, twirling her in a big and slowly descending spiral. Widdershins she thought somewhat giggling. She landed and felt both soft earth and rock beneath her.
She could see that she was somewhere she had never been before the moon. Now glowing silver revealed that there was no little town and no lights at all. Shining in the Erie moonlit landscape. A small mountain was before her trees were all around and the little winding paths, Shaun in the Moonlight, she walked along the path, trying to walk as quietly as she could in her slippers.
She could feel that she was not alone. A hooting from a nearby tree, caused her a stumble and a quick turn to see a great owl looking at her on a branch, above her owl, Bob to one side. And then the other regarding her test felt the owl was satisfied by what it saw when it left its perch on the tree and glided on the path ahead, test followed zigged and zagged, and she heard it to keep up and to keep the owl in that Al abruptly swerved to one side of the path and dove into the trees, tests, instinctively followed.
She was glad she did for as soon as she caught her breath after the dash, along the path, she could hear footsteps in the night and voices talking as they came closer, she could hear the separate voices of those speaking. One shrill, one gruff, and one whining. I don't want to go in there. Set the whining voice.
It's past time that you pulled your own weights and the growth voice you have to, we have to, and you're old enough, listen to your father said the show voice it's so dark in there so that the whining voice test could hear the sound of a small rock being kicked roughly off the path. You have to go into the dark to get your eyes used to it.
Set the gruff voice. You'll be able to see soon enough. We want to find out if you have any of the gifts, that will be a big help to us. If you do think about, if you can see gold veins said the shrill voice, think what lovely things we can get. If you do that, even silver would be good. Seeing any orders would be good, Southern gruff voice.
What kind of things could I get? So the whining voice, the first sounds of eagerness now, audible in his tone. Tests could see through the shrubs that it was a he, but, uh, he, what she wasn't sure the three were not much bigger than she and carrying pickaxes slung over their small, but burly shoulders. One was clearly an older male, one, some kind of a younger female, but the smallest with a whiny voice was clearly the youngest and a boy, the moon, which had been clouded a bit now bloomed clear as the odd trio pasture.
She crouched lower in fright. As she saw there, oddly shaped heads, glowing animal like eyes, and that the ones speaking have very sharp and pointed teeth, she could have sworn that they were greenish in color or were the gray. It was hard to tell. She was very sure that she didn't want them to see her.
She hoped fervently that they did not have an extra sharp sense of smell along with an ability to see in the dark. Just when she feared that they would see her in the Moonlight, in her green rope, a small sound came from behind them came a plaintiff cry.
Damn that cat. So the gruff one, I told you to put it away for the night. He didn't have time wine. The boy. The boy turned and gave the small forum trotting behind him, attempting to nuzzle his knee, a sharp kick that made the animal fly backwards in the night with a whale of distress, it tumbled into the bushes test, nearly leaped out onto the path to go to the cat's aid.
But the fury in the female's eyes glaring at the small boys stopped her cold. She crouched down lowers sending out warm thoughts to the cat. And hoping that this trio whom she was beginning to suspect were goblins would pass her by the older male cuff, the goblin boy on the side of the head and dragged him forward on the path.
The boy rubbing his ear cried. I probably can't see nothing now. Thanks to being hit so hard. You'll see. All right, set the show voice. We just have to get you into the mind. Something might eat my cat wine. The boy. Serves it right. Set the gruff boys. No, thanks to you to test as relief. The strange trior disappeared around a bend in the path she waited until she could no longer hear their arguing voices before she crept cautiously out of the bushes.
Whereas before she'd been able to hear a little piteous mewling from the animal. Now she could hear nothing. She went back along the path and its direction and stopped a little distance from where she thought it was. I'm so sorry that you were kicked and that you are now left behind. I'll help you poor little thing.
And it sounded young, but looked a little bigger than that. She kept talking softly to it, but our glided overhead landing in a nearby tree. You're not helping. She scalded the owl. The cat will be afraid of you. That I will seem to make a sound that was close to her. She heard it was a small and cautious sound.
She moved in that direction and there in the bushes, she saw two slanting green eyes looking up at her. Very LAR you beauty. She breathed. She extended her hand slowly. Like the pet store man had taught her the cat coward and lowered his body closer to the earth. Okay. She crooned, it raised its head. She knows to pick up the cat as she felt.
It's been little body it's bony ribs, something melted in her heart. The carrots stared into her eyes. And it seemed like an asked her a question. Oh yes. She said, yes, the cat stood up. So its body was small. Like a young cat, its legs were the longest that she had ever seen almost twice as long as they should be.
Oh dear. You're a goblin cat. She braid. The cat bleeps slowly out her, nevermind. I'm taking you home with me. You like that? She asked, I blinked again and made a little jumping into her arms. She wrapped up, sit up warmly in the front of her bro. Set her shoulders in a resonant fashion. I have the feeling that most there is going to have to accept you.
Checon cited. The owl solidly watching her. And bobbed from side to side, as if committing the side of her with this cat to its memory, it launched itself off the tree and began to fly along the path back in the original direction from which they had come. She jogged along behind the cat may have little mewing sounds from time to time and then became them in her arms, falling asleep.
She began to feel sleepy as well, even though she was moving as fast as she dared, she could feel intense drowsiness coming over her. Maybe we can just rest a little. She thought once I see the owl on the path for some distance, and that was her last thought before she fell asleep, she woke with morning sun coming in the window.
She felt tired and a little sore in her body. She was just starting to think what a funny dream. When she heard a soft rumble and felt a weight along her leg, she sat up startling, the dark gray and black Brindle creature on the covers standing on absurdly long legs. And he seemed it wasn't looking at her, but beyond her to the door where her mother stood a mug of weak Milky tea in hand.
The cat stared at her mother and her mother stared back the cat's whiskers, bunched up as it showed long sharp teeth, a slow smile began to grow on her. Mother's face. I told you that we'd know it when we saw it, but I never imagined that you're familiar with look like this. She said with a shaky laugh, putting the tea down on the bedside table.
She came closer and sat on the bed, not looming over the girl and crouching cat, but gentling herself down beside them, both the cat glared then turned it and began to look it's extraordinary. Front leg. Welcome Kat. She said formally to the creature of the state assume you're a cat. This is your new home to her daughter with a look of pride and love in her eyes.
She said, Tell me everything from the beginning.
My story is about the Ben and Donte nine months before I was born the village Sierra Sophia dreamt of me coming into the world. My grandfather used to tell me that all people are born with precious gifts, which are needed in order for communities to thrive. Some of these gifts are visible, practical, and useful in life.
Like a trade or ability to do something really well, just like your father or mother did before. Other people are born with different kinds of gifts, which are closer to the other invisible world and it's magic, but also very important to the physical wellbeing of the waking world. People who could see the future heal and talk with the spirits were the holders of these other gifts.
Which were also passed down to them from their fathers and mothers who came before. The woman who dreamt of me was one of those people. And she told my parents about my arrival and the gift that has not been seen for many years. By the time I was born, our view of reality had held only a trace of some of the invisible gifts that came from the other world and time when people be since spirits lift together, The gifts that were now openly cherished and recognized were those useful and visible ones like being a tailor, a cobbler or a beekeeper, the other gifts though, still recognized by some people kept quiet about not wanting everybody to know, especially not those who have turned their hearts against magic because of the fewer and fewer people were born with the unseen gifts or maybe.
If the gifts were there, they were hidden, kept secret. The night's Sophia, the, or dreamt of me was a night of a great storm rain winds, and lightning rattled. Our village into nobody slept a wink, Sophia rushed over to my parents' house so she could share the vision from her dream. She didn't know how my family would receive the news, but it was her duty to tell them she arrived at their cottage drenched in rain, shivering under her thick cloak.
Then on Donte, she whispered while holding my mother's hand and reaching out to touch her belly, my mother gasped, she was brought up remembering the old ways and knew what this word meant. An undone auntie good Walker was a person of great, magical power who could fly in their dreams, riding with animal companions, to battle malevolent forces that try to interfere with good weather and with the fertility of the land.
Nobody has heard of the Ben and Donte for many, many years, nobody living could even remember one only stories were left at this time. My father wanted to hear none of this. He was a good church going man, and didn't want this kind of attention or curse on his family. He forbade my mother to speak of this, to anybody and threw Lucia out into the rain, calling her a heretic.
And those days words were powerful and dangerous. And even if you spoke of certain things or were accused of something without cause forever, your family had to live with the burden of such a name. Sophia tried to explain to him then good walkers were a huge blessing to the community that they could negotiate the weather for the entire village to ensure good crops that will last years and years, but he refused to listen.
He acted boast, unusually that night for he was a gentle and kind man. He made my mother promise that she would keep quiet and ridiculed her for believing such nonsense. Nine months later was born. There was a great storm that night, thunder and rain rattled. My parents smoke cottage, my grandma, mother, and great aunt attended to my mother's labor into the early morning hours, a Dawn, the sky cleared my mother's labor ended and I ordered my first freaking cry.
My night travels are the first memories I have. I remember flying in my sleep and an invisible world above our own while being surrounded by beasts and creatures, I would awaken in a sweat most nights, startled and bewildered to when my mother would come to wake me from a restless turning in my cradle.
She told me I never cried though. When she would wake me, not the way other children cry with night terrors. But I would stare at her intently, unable to share what I had seen in the other world since I was not able to talk. Not yet. When I was six, I told my parents about one of my night Grames. I'd finally had the words to describe it.
My father became furious with an anger I've never seen in him before fueled with rage and fear. He forbade me to ever speak of me, dreams out loud again. A great storm had gathered above us that night, dark and terrifying, like the power should summit to bind me from talking about my night adventures. I know his true desire was to keep me from night writing, but that was a power.
Nobody could stop the closest to it was him keeping quiet, which he succeeded on when he bound my tongue for, I didn't speak at all after that night. Seeing what his rage had done to me and torn by grief. My father fell into a deep sleep from which no one could wake him a dark cloud hovered in the sky.
And a great drought came to our village shortly after I spoke of my first night, writing farmers feared the worst and the end of the hot summer lack of rain could cause a devastating loss of crop and likely famine people went to the closest church and offered what few coins they had to petition for rain.
They prayed on saying and worked in the fields harder than ever, but no rain came. My father continued to sleep, which seemed to be devouring, something inside him for, he appeared to be withering away day by day. As I watched silently beside my mother who up day and night, this was a dark time for us all and I couldn't help, but I feel that I had brought it all on that.
I was to blame. My grandmother begged the old Sierra Sophia to please come and look into the other world to find a remedy. The woman though treated badly by my father. Didn't hesitate to come out to our aid, seeing my father in his state and me bound by guilt and silence. She embraced me and whispered in my ears as I covered her cloak and my tears.
Dear one, do not weep and do not fear your gift. It is not too late. But you must ride on your beast farm to this battle. You must choose a writer tonight, commit to her, and she will show you all. You need to know. She will take you to the white stag and remember your father is not who he seems. And by all means he must be saved.
The writer Sophia spoke of where the many beasts I would see during my night journeys. Sometimes I would fly by myself, but I was still small, so I couldn't fly as fast, or as far as some of the other creatures, remembering Sophia's words upon falling asleep, I had gathered all of my intentions and strength and focus them into the thick clouds and movements I was entering in the dream world.
This was the first time I had ever felt so aware and conscious in my dream. Usually I let the adventure take me and I would drift in and out of awareness. And it would be more of an observer in my travels this time, everything was different. The clouds were darker, faster, more creatures and beasts were present.
Some with weapons I've never seen before tonight was like a real battle. And I felt nowhere near ready, but I knew I had to be a great bear, flew, close and glared at me intently who comes here. I didn't back away. I held my gaze. I have come from my writer. I said, But here, I still had a voice. The bear flew aside and then a Wolf came, who comes here.
I have come from my writer. I answered, he moved aside a giant owl hovered over me with the same question. And I answered for the third time I have come from my writer. I am ready. And then I saw her a white deer, small like me, but fast, faster than any of the other big beasts. I saw her white heart fire light up from a great distance.
As my heart lit up into a fierce flame at the same moment our eyes met and without hesitation, she galloped across the sky towards me. As she came closer, I realized she was not small, but very big, big enough to devour me if she wanted to, but she didn't devour me. Not exactly. She entered my dream form and we became one and I got much, much bigger.
Same size as the bears, wolves and owls. By my side, since we were one, we could share thoughts. She knew I was still scared for, I was not used to those dark clouds or how fast we moved or how our two heartbeats together in a powerful, overwhelming rhythm. We don't have much time. I heard her. We must ride to the white stag and to your father now, before it's too late.
She flew fiercely through the night sky and headed for our cottage, which was settled at the edge of the woods. What side of the cottage other night writers gathered some inhuman forms and others in their great beasts forms all gathered around and even bigger creature that appeared to be lying on the forest floor.
As I got closer, I saw that it was a great white stag laying on its side bound with a thick, dark, cloudy rope, unable to move. Who bound the white stag. I asked horrified it was your father. He bound him, said a great Wolf. My heart sank, the white stag. The cloud piercer is the most important of us. He has been lost for many, many years, but we did the work for him as best we could, no matter what weapons we use, we cannot Pierce this cloud and release the rain.
And now that he is bound, some of our powers are bound to when we are helpless. The animals and creatures, laminated and pointed to the dark luminous cloud that hung over our village. It was the very cloud that was hoarding water from us from above our land. I approached the great beast as gently as I could.
I was deeply saddened by his fate and by my fathers, I knew that there was no coincidence here. My father's illness had connected to this binding and he might have to pay the price, the ultimate price. I didn't know what to do. But I reached out gently to the beast to touch it and began to cry. The white stag turned his head to look at me and I met his gaze and gaze as deep as the sea and as wild as the wind.
It's so sad, so filled with longing. And so, so familiar. And as I listened to my double heartbeat, merged with the white deer that held the same rhythm as the white stacks, I realized. The white stag was my father. My father was, had been undone T just like me and like his family that came before him and those before them, my father bound himself.
When he tried to protect me from a gift, he was too afraid to carry the tears that flowed from my eyes. As I had learned this truth began to dissolve the ropes so he could move a little and he wouldn't break my gaze. He grew softer writer, lighter, bigger. Suddenly able to move out of the ropes, which were now streams running into the roots of trees and quenching the thirst of small creatures.
And then he stood up. He was truly magnificent stretching across the tree tops and into the clouds inside him was my father's sleeping form, small and frail, but still alive. The SIA, you must merge with me now. Our heartbeats are aligned as we are of the same lineage. So you are the only one who can our strengths combined.
We can reach the dark cloud, the white deer, and I merged with the white stag and all of our forms, including that of my sleeping father made our way up into the sky, driven by the song of our hearts as they made through the other creatures wrote as well, loaning us the strength to fly higher and higher until we reached the edge of the sky.
Where we pierced the cloud, which released the most luscious thick rain blessing. The parched ground below the force of the water was so fierce, so powerful, but it knocked me out of my deer form and out of the white stag. And I went flying down tumbling through the great winds, unable, able to stop. As I was falling, I saw that my father had finally awakened inside the white stag and together they could control their direction and speed and were flying fast towards me.
But I was too scared and tired and lost consciousness. My father's beautiful, proud form inside the white stag reaching for me was the last thing I remember. I was told later that I slept for many days and many nights after that Eve, I don't remember any of those dreams for this must have been asleep without vision, without battles or beasts.
This was arresting sleep, a nourishing sleep, a healing sleep. I much needed. When I finally awakened my father was sitting by my side, smiling his face, wet with tears. My dear daughter, my sweet been on Donte. I want to hear about all your dreams and with great joy. I told him
next up working with our familiars.
Every preacher has a particular gift of animal wisdom. One that is intrinsic to its animal body. One with a special divine purpose. In times long since passed, I would sit at the feet of my aging master and listen attentively. She would tell tales of familial. Animals whose souls would become intertwined with hours to do the sacred healing on good days, I would dream of having a familial on my own.
I was just a girl and preoccupied with girl things like the color of her coat and the sound of her name. I feared that I would never find my perfect match. Soul with whom I could bond in order to do a greater duty in this fascinating, magical world. I wonder if I would be able to recognize her if I would be able to perceive her bountiful, but when the day came, it was instinctive near to the bars of the cage and knew immediately that she was the animal for me.
The light in her eyes shown with the brilliance that I have no words for it. It was magical. I could see, see her particular gift of animal wisdom and garner it's divine purpose. Still for a moment, I doubted myself, I asked the gate keeper to allow us some time alone to determine if we were truly right for you.
And he did, we went to a small room where we played. Romping around on the floor. She was so cute. She engaged me, calling my soul toward her, inviting me to share her life. I had to commit, I named her Sophia Greek or wisdom helper. And she is just that, of course my home was different than we went through a period of adjustment, but two of us spent all of our time together.
And it wasn't all perfect. There were moments in the beginning when we were out of sync moments, when our highest selves skipped a beat in the dance of life each day, we would walk through our neighborhood. At first, when we came to a fork, she would insist on an inferior direction. We would have a momentary stand off, but I went back into her, remind her of our mutual commitment.
And in time she would realize the wisdom of my ways and come along. She learned to stay in step. We learned to walk together. It's been 10 years now that we've been doing our spiritual work. When a client arrives, they wait in the lobby. As I prayerfully reflect on what might be coming forward for them in this sacred moment.
I call upon the directions, the elements, the ancestors, all the spirits to bring forward a perfect empowering experience for each of us. I reached deep into the heart of the cosmos to divine their highest good, their most graceful path forward. The one that will bring them meaning and fulfillment throughout their lives.
It is beautiful, sacred work. When we embark on the healing process. So failure, it is magical. We first journey to the deep origins, the roots of the issue we will address when necessary and always with permission, we touched the client each in our own unique way. Tenderly really assessing an area of concern once found we're slowly, gently untangle it from the web of weird.
Can I ask her additional allies, those on the other side of the veil to sanctify each of the threads that have created the nod, we are here to unravel. As I take up my own sacred craft, Sophia does her magic. She calls upon the powers that run through her animal body. Just as I call on mine, we each contribute to setting the space and intent for a graceful blessing healing.
Together in deep meditation, we move anything. The client may have intentionally or unintentionally created accumulated and or accepted returning its energy to the cosmos, to be reabsorbed into the vital life force that blesses and empowers us all next week. Journey through space and time. Thought and realm to acquire anything.
The client may have lost in this or any other life personally, or through their ancestry. Once garnered, we return it to the client and seed it in its rightful home, or it can be in right relationship with all when we're done, we spend a few minutes cherishing that client surrounding them in a GAAP, a universal love.
Requesting that our work be a perfect and permanent blessing in perfect protection for each of us, our families, and all our relations. We bow to the phenomenal Juul that holds the heart, soul and spirit of our client. As often as not the client, we have tears of poignancy and delight, grief and inspiration.
This cleans, clears and heals the energy body. Finally, we speak of aftercare. We advised that the client relax and indulge in self-nurturing healing foods, aroma therapy, bodywork, and finally, when the day is over and there's been a job well done, I ask one last thing of my beautiful familial and she invariably acquiesces using her particular gift of animal wisdom.
The one that is intrinsic to her animal body, the one with a special divine purpose, her opposable thumb, she opens the can containing my dinner
again. I'm struck by the intertwining of our story. I don't know. I loved both of yours. Yeah. I love them. They are so beautiful. I left both of your stories as well. And I have so much gratitude for the animal kingdom. Those are the words we have for those beings. And I don't know if that's the appropriate word, which is why I think some of these stories about animals they're about so much more than that.
The animals are about the relationship, which really honors these beings that I feel I can see so many ways we don't really deserve as people. Well, maybe some of them we do. I don't know, but I just overall, I feel like people don't really deserve animals because they see so much more than we do anyways.
I loved both of your stories and I just didn't, you know, again, I'm just seeing that kind of a triangular configuration of all of these stories together, but. As well, I was enjoying see the devoted nurse, so it's hard to put words around it, but I mean, it felt like the devotion that even as the dedication to the task, and then you're letting us know, I swear we're actually hearing the story through and whose voice we were hearing it through.
And I'd love that flipping up the senses. I really did. And I loved the, in your story, Gabriela, not only the insight into a tradition that maybe isn't super well known, but also the power of what somebody does through fear, but also through love and finding a voice and binding a power. And what is not embraced, but what is a necessity for a community when it's bound off becomes like a curse for the community.
And so it was very, it was very beautiful to experience the change that your character's father went through in being helped to understand what his role was and then fully embracing it as well. I really love that. If I can just say to it just like that sense of the Ben and John say being able to be the weather workers and that clue that the weather was giving all of the time with the storms, et cetera.
So that was very well done. Very lovely. Oh, thank you so much. I I'm feeling that the story will probably unfold even more over time as I've. I feel like I've been beautifully held hostage by this family for a couple of days, and wasn't even sure what the story was going to be until. Where I didn't really know the end of the story until just very recently.
And then, and didn't really have the time to write as much and that, but that is perfect as it is in that way that it's supposed to be what it is for now, but I, I really enjoyed being in it. And the Ben and Donte there would be were, that is a real group of people. There was a cult that. Really believed this and that throughout Europe and the balcony area, there were people who did this kind of work and their dream state, and who knows.
I think they still might face, they still must. This is not the kind of thing that would just go away completely. But I, I really enjoyed the stern. I still very much enjoyed the goblin cats and I was so committed to sort of. To making sure that it's safe though. I do feel like it will be a great protector for little tests, really enjoyed that.
And what was it like to be with the goblin cat? It was quite wonderful. I mean, I really adore test and I am a well aware that there's more to the story of how this gobbling cat. Acclimate to this reality and not the goblin reality. And so I think there will be opportunities to hear more about tests and her cats and all of that unfolds.
And for you, see, one of the things that I would say is that as I was listening to you describing the work that this pair did, I was thinking for those who practice soul retrieval, this is a must listen to. To hear how to acclimate oneself and then the surprise ending of who was the speaker makes it even more appealing.
I think. Thank you. I loved both of yours in the way that they were essentially flying into that other world. That was so beautiful for me in both occasions. And I was completely obsessed with abandoned Dante. To the point of total shivers and like the feeling that I had never heard the name before, but I had always known the name.
Like I really want to hear much more. I also want to hear much more about tech and I loved the cat and I don't know very much about goblins. I really look forward to learning more about goblins. And again, they were both so beautifully written. I was just stunned with how amazingly beautifully written both of the stories were.
And I was fascinated the whole time. And you know, I'm kind of ABD. I have a hard time paying attention for very long. And you had me, you totally had me through both of them. It was rape. I just loved it. I'm so grateful to be here with you both. Thank you so much. See, I'm so grateful to be here with you and with you Betsy and.
I absolutely loved both stories and see your story right away really had me at the heart. You know, it had me, I could really felt like an unfolding of something. Like there were so many layers to what you were describing. And I felt that one of the power of the story was just like the power of a soul retrieval or the power of a healing of a real healing that happens on so many different levels.
And in so many places, it's the power of staying in the moment and the power of being present, whether it every step of the way. That makes it a success and makes it sacred. And with the observer though, I thought it was a being of that kind. I thought it was an animal that I wasn't sure. I didn't know what, from what world this animal came from, it was the ability of this being to hold the moment and use senses and levels of awareness that are probably outside of.
What we would normally see that are most important in this kind of a process. So I was really grateful for that. And I agree with Betsy, it's a must here. It's a must here for anybody that does healing work and especially anybody that lives with animals and does healing work, because I feel like there's another layer to it.
When other beings like that share your home, they will let you know a lot. About everything ahead of time. And during that time, so it was beautifully woven together and lovely to hear the familiars perception of the work and the dedication to the work and the single point of focused awareness of the work that actually is very humbling as a practitioner of silver tree, but that's very humbling too.
Here. Um, also very inspiring. So thank you. I love the owl in your story, Betsy. I really loved the owl. So we all had animals that crossed over into each other's stories. Right? I haven't really shared a name or we shared a name well and Sophia didn't end up. She had a different name at the beginning of the story.
And today she said, no, I am Sophia the sear. Yeah.
One of the things I enjoyed in getting to meet us was how she just went with the dream, which was more than a dream. And I'm just wondering how many children are doing just that. Just as in your story, I would think many, many. And I think many are not able to really articulate what they're seeing and by the time they do, I would hope in some circumstances, if not most those stores would be cherished and appreciated and taken for what they are.
And I think in many others, they're probably the Smiths they're quieted. So where do they go? It would be my hope that for those listening to these stories, that you might remember some of the dreams you had when you were a child to wonder what exactly were those dreams. Absolutely. And even if we're dreaming now, some of our dreams, if we really go with it, become more than that, because I feel like offend the dream.
We think to ourselves, I'm just going to go with this. This is great. It's no longer a dream. In my opinion, being able to track those passages into the other worlds, into the other realities and dreams. There are definitely one of the doorways, but not the only doorway. I'm excited about the many allies that come to our aid.
Sometimes they might question or our commitment to the dream. Making sure that we are really who we are and that we can be an ally to them. I love that. I love the working in the dream world. I think that I will concentrate more on the ways I work in my dream world this week. I might spend some time thinking about what powers have not been written about or what gifts have not been written about that might have been lost in time.
What would it look like if we suddenly had access to some of those old forgotten tails? And I think for me, and I am a Capricorn, so this makes sense for me, but I think of what are we designed for? You know, what, what gives up and given to us that may seem unusual in current circumstances, but.
Nevertheless could actually be helpful in current circumstances. And if we embrace that and sort of went with it, then what would happen then I have a lot of curiosity about that. I think those beautiful gifts that you were talking about in your story, Gabriela are things that are present in every family and every family system.
Some forgotten some remember for a time, but maybe shell. And so maybe for listeners, they might be thinking, Hmm. If I went and looked at what's on the family shelves, what would I find that might be there as a gift that could be part of my life and be a help in these times too. Right. That's absolutely lovely.
I want to look at my own family shelves and seeing, Oh, what got put up there and forgotten about got hidden. Yeah. Yeah. I just give thinking that mine would need to be dusted. I'm going to need to dust off.
Yeah. The box. Yeah, but it is, yeah, it is intriguing. And I do love that work. I find it totally fascinating the way the story is that together. Well, the familiars are unfamiliar to those listening. You might just look into them and see what's there for you.
Penn special. Thanks to the fantastic Sophie magic for her phenomenal editing skills.