The thunder in our steps (North Carolina Maritime Museum)

The thunder in our steps (North Carolina Maritime Museum)

By James Anthony Curtis

Not long ago we had the opportunity to visit the North Carolina Maritime Museum in Beaufort, NC. One of the latest exhibits was due to the find of Blackbeard’s ship, Queen Anne’s Revenge off the North Carolina coast where it went aground in 1718.’ Nearly 300 years after the pirates’ death, Blackbeard remains one of the most notorious rebels of the high seas, inspiring tales such as Treasure Island, and in more recent times movies such as the series Pirates of the Caribbean. And although there is a mysterious shroud surrounding the details in the path of piracy, many of those who chose to become pirates including Blackbeard, saw themselves as a social caste in revolt against a system which employed unfair treatment to those in it. Once committed to a life of rebellion on the high seas, ships were reorganized in social structure to provide very little power to the captain, instead electing or relieving him as necessary by the consciousness of the vote. And pirate vessels were one of the few places where slaves could gain freedom, which according to accounts a large portion of Blackbeard’s crew were of African origin.


Although Edward Thatch or more commonly known as ‘Teach’ was a tall slender man, his terrifying countenance was achieved when boarding a ship by the many lit fuses under the brim of his hat and in his black beard, which created an eerie essence along with the sling carrying several pistols and sword in hand. And despite his reputation he was remarkably judicious in his use of violence, as various eyewitness accounts claimed, he killed no one when boarding prior to his death in battle with the Royal Navy. Many Merchants simply surrendered without firing a shot, both witnessing his appearance and the small army that followed him as they were overwhelmed. At one point Blackbeard and his crew even settled in the small town of Bath, attempting to live out ‘normal’ lives, but eventually the life of piracy would draw them back to the sea, calling for something more than ‘settling’ could offer. And the image as a killer which was created by authorities to gain both public support for his demise, would not only resolve any of his misdeeds, but quell any future would be attempts at rebellion by setting an example.


Throughout our life path many of us will try to appease the demons that surface, doing our best to fit into the societal structure we live in, sweetening the day with our words, and hiding the doubts that may present themselves in our circumstances, but in the end our nature will expose itself in the innocence of who we are if our darkness is left unanswered. There is thunder in our steps, a radiant impression we leave in signature upon the earth as we walk in pilgrimage here, and even though who we are here may be tossed about on a sea of doubt, our thoughts, feelings, and desires will only continue to surface until they are acknowledged. The power of our divinity in human form wants to be birthed, reconciled, and expressed, which is why we may turn to desperate measures in order to bring our attention back to what the soul is asking for.


Today may we relax into our steps, feeling the ground shake beneath our feet, that the one we already may emerge in godhead, as thunder resounds in the heart of our answering. May we hold fast in dark places, allowing our innocence to guide us, and rather than rebellion, create the sacred space of our birth we have come to experience here in earth. And may we choose a free life rather than the stability of servitude to a system of impermanence, proving the ground we walk on by the love we offer, for the one who only desires to come forth in benefit of all beings.


May it be so, so it is.


“The Ghosts of Gunfighters: Tombstone, Arizona”

“The Ghosts of Gunfighters: Tombstone, Arizona”

By James Anthony Curtis

As someone who grew up playing outdoors when I was a kid, with no cell phones, computers, or video games to occupy the mind, the imagination was free to roam in the backwoods of Pennsylvania as far as it was allowed to move us.

Frequently my best friend and I would ‘pretend,’ creating various adventures from Saturday morning tv shows, or books we had read. Although we tended to find ourselves on other planets, or fighting for our lives on this one in some post apocalyptic drama, westerns were always a cornerstone in theme of the old cinematic world of showdowns we conceived. Gunfights, or the ‘high noon’ square-off, has always been one of my favorites, and even though it has been embellished over the years by Hollywood, the one difference in the tale of Tombstone, Arizona is it was not “pretend,” but very real in the events that unfolded in 1881’.

As we walk the very streets where Wyatt Earp, the Earp brothers, Doc Holiday and “The Cowboys” lived and breathed, there is a sense of a time when men were hardened by their truths, struggling to survive in them, placing a high value on the pride of life as it was felt by them. One look perceived as threatening could send another man sideways, and in the old west where justice was served from the hip, any movement towards the handle which dispensed it, almost certainly meant death or close to it. Tombstone was not unique in this environment, Dodge City, El Paso, Lincoln, San Antonio and others also were rampant with old west justice, but many of the other gunfighting towns never reached the fame that the O.K. Corral did.

You might think Wyatt and his brothers were famous beforehand, or the cowboy faction they were at odds with had some national news, and although the territory was under distress from the lawlessness, not many people had heard of a place called Tombstone until that fated day of the gunfight. Why? A little known fact besides Tombstone being a very wealthy mining town, silver had transformed the little town, bringing it some modern advances like the ‘telephone.’ Moments after the fatal shooting took place the confrontation was being transmitted across the country, and overnight, the Earps, Doc Holiday, the ‘Cowboys,’ and Tombstone would become famous.

Walking the streets of Tombstone today you will find yourself immersed in a fun loving crowd of actors, shop owners, and tourists who have a curious passion for the mystery of the old west. People who wonder at a time of legends, and a hardened yet fulfilling existence, where words spoken were enforced by bullets, and attention to detail might save one’s life. Although we live in different times, as a species we still crave this edge, its in our mythos of humanity, the story of the ‘hero’s journey,’ and the ‘villains’ of our darkness that accompany us. We need fulfillment, adventure, and challenges, to explore the depths of what it means to be alive. And when we hear of such stories, or another time where such took place, we question ourselves, curiosity coming to the surface, and we open our heart to greater potential of what life paths we are walking.

It’s in our nature to strive for the ‘better,’ gazing in reflection on how we may ‘improve.’ But sometimes its not as difficult as it may seem. Watch any child pretending, playing by themselves or with others, and you will glimpse the world we have come here to explore in our innocence. A virtual playground of imagination raised up in the dust of bodies, all that we may feel, express, and experience ourselves more deeply.

So as today unfolds, let us remember to live as we have come here to be, feeling all that we feel, meeting life wherever we are at, setting out with our imaginations of different times, places, and cultures that might challenge desires once asleep in us. And when we hear of stories from a time past, or wonder how others might live, if it sparks something in us, let us fan the flame of our divinity, without judgement or opinion, but meeting our own hero’s journey with all the innocence of the heart.

May it be so, so it is.????

“Ranchers, Aliens, and Conspiracy Balloons”

Roswell, New Mexico November 13th 2018

“Ranchers, Aliens, and Conspiracy Balloons”

By James Anthony Curtis

Events leading into 1947’ were a hot bed of activity on Earth. America had tested, and then dropped atomic bombs on Japan as World War II was nearing its end. The world’s first general purpose electronic computer is assembled, and completed (Electronic Numerical Integrator Analyzer and Computer). U.S. Navy Flight 19 disappears over the Bermuda triangle. The Transistor is invented, The United Nations is formed, with 50 nations signing the Charter in an effort for world peacekeeping, and government, as the Cold War begins.

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We may never know exactly what Mac Brazel found on July7th, 1947’ while out tending to his sheep pasture near Roswell, New Mexico. Even the initial press release from the local Air Base stated, “RAAF Captures Flying Saucer On Ranch In Roswell Region.” The story released days later has sparked conspiracy theories to this day, as to the amount debris, odd looking bodies, strange writings on even stranger metals, and two large crash sites — all coming from one “Dummy Test Balloon,” as stated from the supposed cover-up. No automatic alt text available.

But as we entered Roswell, one thing becomes very apparent, the town has embraced this legacy as their own, with everything from alien pizza shops, to used clothing stores, all dedicated to the little green men with graffiti. I found myself grinning from ear to ear, my boyish nature hardly contained, as I saw large Aliens in front of hotels, displayed in paintings on buildings, and lining the streets on lampposts. Our destination for the day: The International UFO Museum And Research Center in Roswell. First let me say, even if you are not a ufologist, this is a great little gem of a place simply to spark wonder, imagination, and intrigue — you will not be disappointed.

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As we walked the halls of the museum, they have done their best to entertain, with fancy mock-ups, artwork, and scenarios, but lets be honest, the artifacts just aren’t there for obvious reasons. This is one place you have to go all-in, without reservation, letting your mind wander where it wills. There is evidence to support arguments in any narrative you choose, believer or not, which is nice in its presentation.Image may contain: sky

Personally Ive been a UFO enthusiast all my life, from the time I could read, to watching those old black & white movies of ‘visitors’ with various intentions coming to our world. I remember as a teenager growing up in the forests of the Alleghenies, intently watching the stars for extraterrestrial presence, longing for contact from universal friends.Image may contain: sky, tree and outdoor

Looking back, the life I knew growing up was very shrouded, there was no internet, no cell phones, and much of the information we received was via television, radio, or newspaper. It gave us the space for the mind to play, to listen to our longings, feel into ourselves with the lack of communication globally. And although I’m not against technology, I do see the need now for this space, one in which we connect specifically in darkness.Image may contain: indoor

Roswell presents us with an opportunity, not so much in the events that unfolded back in 1947, but more to the point of opening our minds to the space from which we may feel into something, be with both our fears and our longings. Whether we believe in the strange circumstances of cover-ups or not, mathematically we are assured its an impossibility that we are alone in the universe; life has evolved abundantly and without doubt on our little blue planet, and the same has already happened elsewhere or is in progress in the cosmos. Aliens present us with the truth about how we face ourselves, the openness we give to our heart, and what we offer to one another, in terms of both borders and boundaries.Image may contain: 1 person, sitting and indoor

When we look into this facet of our meaning, we grant ourselves the wisdom of seeing an extension of life very difficult to embrace in our current evolution as a species — going beyond human limitations and lifespans to a higher place we refer to as “the heavens.” One in which when we look at the sky in amazement, or climb a mountain simply because we feel the need inside of us, we connect to something far reaching in revealing the truth to our pilgrimage here.

For me, Aliens present those sides of me I long to know, and are only ‘Alien’ in nature until I have come to know them.Image may contain: outdoor

Today may we acknowledge those parts, giving them passage in us, breathing in deeply the love they are asking for. May we share in our commonality, both as a species, and as members in the same universe, recognizing the greater body of ‘self’ that we are. And if we meet some day, may we meet when we are ready, preparing our paths to intersect as the long awaited friends that we have been, with each holding of the heart we give, through all that we feel, for the benefit of all beings.

May it be so, so it is. ????

Glore Psychiatric Museum ~ “Finding our way”

Glore Psychiatric Museum ~ “Finding our way”
Saturday November 10th 2018 by James AnthonyCurtis


Today we visited the Glore Psychiatric Museum in St. Joseph Missouri just north of Kansas City.

St. Joseph is pleasant town, with lovely people, a rare little gem of attractions in US history. Having a commitment we are en route to, we decided on a couple of places that peaked our interest for the day. I chose the Native American exhibit, and Ciara picked the Glore Museum.

As per usual, the universe lines up what we need, even though we may balk at our circumstances. Sometimes I struggle with negative or afflictive emotions, and being in places where tragedy or strong pain was felt, vibrationally I will sense the energy stored in the items, land, and buildings that are still there. Although this happens, Ive received guidance over the years to really embrace the energies, that there are always deeper lessons, healings, expressions coming forth in the experiences that are priceless.

I’m a firm believer in learning from our history, and contributing to the process of healing by emerging myself in these areas of need that call out energetically.
I forget as a healer though, that when in exploration while sighting seeing, the impact things may have on me. This actually works to the benefit of the process sometimes, in that each experience is felt on a much deeper level, when we are unaware of what’s happening, because the mind doesn’t interfere with its analytical inquisitions or opinions.

Earlier in the day when we were choosing our destinations, its also beautiful watching the synchronicity of events that align for our desires of what we need to manifest in our life paths. Everything plays a part in coming to surface what we may realize in hindsight, as perfection is always moving all things together for wellbeing. Our conscious ‘trip planning,’ really is the tip of the iceberg in what happens on any given day.

 So we found ourselves moving through the halls of what was once labeled “State Lunatic Asylum No. 2″, renamed the “St. Joseph State Hospital” in 1899. Built in 1874, the structure has echoes of a medieval fortress, where one might suspect to find all sorts of various torture devices in the damp lower sections of its foundation walls. Although the mind might run a bit with the idea of barbaric treatment as you begin to wander the museum, instead what we found was far more revealing in nature, sinister even, — a vain attempt by our predecessors to understand dark places in the human psyche, and in failing to do so, meet them with brute force in order to bring them in line with societal codes of conduct.

In an introductory video when you first enter the museum, a modern Psychiatrist examines his own methods of treatment for the mentally ill, posing the question, “fifty or a hundred years from now, will the methods I use be thought of as barbaric or inhumane attempting treatment of the mentally ill?

As we walked from room to room, seeing the devices and various forms of treatment used in those individuals that were committed, neither of us had the words to describe what we were feeling. Knowing what I know now, working with many people that struggle with mental health, how many of these people would have been tossed to the wind as ‘abnormal,’ or ‘less than’ in humane consideration? ‘Love,’ seemed far removed from the equation, as each treatment focused more on the obedience of behavior, and awakening the individual to societal norms in thinking.

Though I do not hold those in authority or charged with the care of these people at the time responsible, it is difficult to imagine being flexible with such obstinate thinking. The fact that we are ‘evolving’ is still in debate today, drive long enough on any major highway in the US, and you will eventually see a billboard disputing evolution with a rather narrow view of creationism. And although this may seem counter productive, even resistant, and full of rigidity, we are only being served with a deepening path to practice the love we so much are calling out for in humanities shortcomings.

As I look closely, feel into the history of many of those that were housed at ‘Lunatic Asylum No.2,’ the devices used on the people, the ‘tranquilizers,’ restraints, and many methods of treatment being explored, a story begins to unfold of two lives — both intertwined in the relationship of questioning our sanity. With each whipping, dousing of water, and handling of the insane with brute force, to the more sublime encounters where some small connection might be made, both patient and counselor must have wondered what bridge they were walking on through their chosen life path. As each questioned each, why couldn’t the other see what was so revealing and important in meaning?

On the third floor of the museum is a display of crafts, artwork, and instruments that gave worth to so many in the halls where they stayed. Some venting, others broken in heart, pain pouring forth in expression, and moments of joy in once heard voices having hope of being listened to again. The evidence on this floor was overwhelming, the conclusion of contrast real, that which was opening was being opened by the innocence of love, not by the torture of oppressive obedience. Those place that are so misunderstood, dark to us in nature, even violent in their force, are merely asking for love, the attention we long seek by the demons of our desires. The artwork resonated so much with us, it brought up other great artists of our time, and we were made to wonder how many of them were seeking only to be loved, valued in their journey of introspection, so clearly translated and identified on a mass scale of human canvas in the heart of the minds eye? How many of them were merely seekers, walking the inward road, only to escape incarceration or rejection by a narrow thread had their thoughts been more openly known?

The answer is not an easy one to accept, because it means a shift in each of our personal daily lives. As we draw closer to the truth of healing, expression, and our divine nature, we also meet our ‘mirrors,’ those places we lack conformity with, that are not aligned, asking only to be loved in their cries. As humans we are in a place of unique significance, in that we are both living embodiments of earth and sky, having the capacity for greatness and awe in our movements, but only as we learn to endure our most afflictive of energies in emotion with loving embrace. As we continue to grow into our potential, those parts that come forward in what we may perceive of as ‘insanity,’ are only indications of the higher self we are coming to know as we struggle to maintain some semblance of reality. With each grounding that falls away from under our footing, we are moving inward to the uncertain path, and learning to trust in the universal weight of liberation.



May you be blessed, may you be opened when ready, free to explore those parts that are asking only to be heard by the love that you already are. May it be so, so it is.???