WHAT’S AT STAKE, yet again: My roots are Roman Catholic and I am ashamed.

Part of being love, rather than cowering in fear is speaking truth to power. And that Catholicism is so very corrupted leaves me with a terrible taste in my mouth. Not that I’ve gone to church lately. In fact, not since I left that old world behind, when I was 23, and absolutely knew I was not to have another child. (At that time birth control was still a no-no.) For me, it was either my life (and my body) or some fire-breathing authority looking down on me from above, trying to tell me what to do. Forget it!

So, I’m wondering how many Catholics will fall away with this latest disgusting Pennsylvania revelation. And, BTW, as I recall, that finding was for only two dioceses out of nine total in that state. What would the total number of priests and victims be if all nine dioceses were counted?

Reader Anthony sent a long, comprehensive article today, from 2016 (following the Antony Weiner laptop revelations), which goes into detail, starting mid-way through, re: the Catholic church and its long-standing relationship with pedo. Thank you Anthony! And thanks to Rose, who pointed out that Anthony had posted it before I saw it! Decidedly: WWG1WGA.


Speaking of the Catholic church, Q posted something today that made my skin crawl. Check this out. And so glad others finally pulled the terrified infant away from the obsessed priest. Why did they wait so long? Afraid of “authority”? AFRAID? It’s high time we let go of fear. Period. WWG1WGA.



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Only two fundamental choices: LOVE or FEAR

I remember the day I realized this fact. It was in 1991. The (first) Gulf War had just been declared. This, after months of build-up, which I felt in my body as tension, and realized, because I did feel it so strongly, and also felt an equally strong release (relief) as war was declared. This phenomenon — What? I was relieved? I AM glad we went to war? NO!!! — unnerved me. I wrote this essay in response.

Is the Lady A Tyger? On the Energetic Roots of the Phenomenon of War

These days, we have another manifestation of the energetic roots of war, a war between Trump and Trumpsters vs everyone else. Both of these camps feel strongly, so strongly their powerful feelings cloud reason. What is now termed the Trump Derangement Syndrome appears to seriously interfere with even the most sane attempts at returning to — or maybe, forging for the very first time in this fractious nation —  a truly civil society.

When I point out the reactive emotionality of their own attitude to those on either side of this divide they usually snort dismissively. From my point of view, most people just don’t “get it.” And why don’t they get it? I’d say it’s because they are not rooted in an awareness of their own bodies, and so tend to be dictated to by the discomfort their bodies undergo when faced with a phenomenon (Trump) that continues to elude even their best guesses as to how this one 72-year old man seems to effortlessly and single-handedly provoke such a massive disruptive charge in the body politic.


Okay, now let’s get personal.

I don’t know if you have noticed, but I certainly have. Whenever I am lying in bed, about to drift off to sleep or waking up in the morning, if there is any disturbance in my bodily state (for me, liver problems, digestive issues), then my conscious, egocentric mind — immediately, without thought — leaps in with an idea to “account” for the discomfort, consider it the “cause” of the discomfort — and then, like magic, pretend to replace it!  Ignoring the physical discomfort itself, ego mind (monkey mind) then runs wild with associated thoughts, and since it’s pain I am feeling in my body (without now, being conscious of it), the thoughts (constructed to mirror the bodily state) are themselves disturbing — “Oh no, what if? What can I do about it? What else will happen? Whose fault is it?” On and on, monkey mind runs rampant with desire and/or aversion, thus engendering a suffering as strong or stronger than the original physical discomfort!

And all this desire/aversion inner talk is fearful. That’s right. The emotion of fear rules, automatically, when, without awareness, I instantly substitute mental agitation for the original bodily discomfort. Fear of what will happen if. Or fear that what already happened will happen again, or worse. On and on.

So, that one primal, and exceedingly simple recognition, which arose during one ordinary afternoon when I was just standing there in my office in Jackson Wyoming during the Gulf War in 1991, of the choice, at every moment, between Love or Fear, felt like a revelation.

This revelation is related to another, and in fact, may be the same one: the dichotomy between abundance and scarcity. I posted on this recently:

The Scarcity Assumption

Today, I googled “love and fear,” looking for an article that talked about the chemistry of these two states of being. And found it. Well worth reading all the way through.

Entelechy Journal: LOVE AND FEAR

Remember, it’s a choice. Always. And sometimes we need to recognize how those who want to rule us, control us, create a centralized state where we are all cogs in a single vast machine, do so. And yes, it’s always through manipulation of our fears! When we are not afraid, we don’t succumb to the psy-ops, of which there are four main ones: 1. Divide and Rule, 2. Distraction, 3. False Flag, and 4. Action, Reaction, Solution.

Watch the first ten minutes of this Ole Dammegard video describing these four types of psychological operations (psy-ops) that have been used since time immemorial  to corral people into doing their supposed overlords’ bidding. And remember, only if we are afraid, will we succumb to any of them. And sometimes that means coming back into our bodies (since yes, our minds do tend to run away with us), rooting ourselves there, inside our own skin, and noticing: am I fearful, or am I loving? Am I contracting, closing my heart down? Or am I expansive, open to the universe, heart full to bursting? It really is one or the other.





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WHAT’S AT STAKE, followup: Within hours of yesterday’s post, three more examples.

See yesterday’s post.

I had just posted “WHAT’S AT STAKE,” when I noticed this new post on my twitter feed. Reader Anthony also pointed it out. From True Pundit, another in what more and more appears to be a long trail of bodies strewn behind the Clintons:

Investigative Journalist Found Dead in D.C. Hotel Room Weeks After Reporting Bill Clinton to FBI & DHS for Allegedly Raping Boy

Reading the above, I cannot help but think back to when Bill was president, and the silly, sordid “I didn’t have sex with that woman” wet-spot-on-dress affair that I dubbed, back then, Bill’s “peckerdillo.” Such relatively innocent times we were in then, over 20 years ago. I even felt sorry for Hillary, that she would have to endure being the wife who was so wronged.

Next, within the hour yesterday, another post appeared, this one from zerohedge:

Over 300 Catholic Pedos Preyed Upon 1000+ Children amid “Systematic” Coverup: Report

A grand jury from the Pennsylvania Supreme Court reports on findings from 70 decades. The title doesn’t mention that they were Catholic priest pedos. But then, they usually are. This news no longer shocks. In fact, it’s now routine. Indeed, as of three months ago,

The Vatican Has Paid Nearly 4 Billion to Settle for Children Harmed by Sexual Abuse

The third story is also one that I’d heard innuendos about previously. It concerns the UN.

Horrifying UN Report Details Widespread Child Rape by High Level UN Employees

Imagine, if you will, the little known fate of millions of child refugees, shuttling between and among nations, including ours. Imagine their own family lives disrupted by war, usually with the U.S. at the helm and big bucks for military and weapons contractors. Imagine these children trafficked, raped, killed — their organs then trafficked to the highest bidders. All this happens. Regularly and often. It’s not just Satanism,  ceremonial child sacrifice. It’s business, big business, lucrative as hell. And we, the people need to do something about it. And to do that, we need first, to WAKE UP.

From Q-post, today:





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Note that the Hopefully Historic Monsanto Decision . . .

. . . was achieved on August 10, within 24 hours of the final eclipse of this three eclipse season.

Think of it: an African American groundskeeper, 43 years old, who had sprayed with Monsanto at his job, despite protection, ended up with terminal cancer. His was the first of over “4000 cases” (other sources give different figures) to go to trial; after two months, the jury handed him the decision of our lifetime, hopefully prying open a powerful portal that will result in a healthier, more vibrant world.

Via my twitter feed, The Epoch Times:

Plaintiffs say Roundup Cancer Verdict Makes the US Safer, More Just

More info in the next article, including that the jury took three days to reach a verdict, and that the way the verdict was worded helps future cases, in that it doesn’t say for sure that Roundup “caused” the cancer, but instead that it caused “harm.” As I recall, the idea of attributing one’s illness to a chemical, when the illness occurs after the fact of having somehow come into connection with the chemical, has been a sticking point in other cases involving poisons. The decision is also notable in that it points out that Monster-santo knew it lied when it claimed that the product was safer than salt.

Why were damages in Monsanto’s Roundup trial so high? Not only is the giant liable, but it caused harm deliberately

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WHAT’S AT STAKE: We, the People, must bust open, and eradicate, not just pedophilia, but trafficking, satanism, child snuff films, and more

If you are a truly human being, then you don’t want to be confronted with what follows. Were this vast, unspeakable cultural nightmare not so horrifically real, I wouldn’t publicize it. But it is. And it’s time we paid attention. And yes, I know, thanks to Qanon and our own investigations, more and more of us are paying attention. Even pre-Q, years ago we learned of rampant pedophilia among Catholic priests; and, thanks to the revelation of coded Podesta emails in late 2016, this virulent, long-running cancer, with its attendant codes of denial and secrecy, that wields the sword of blackmail and has infected every level of society — Hollywood, sports, entertainment, business, politics — is now, more and more, thanks mostly to brave victim whistleblowers and the alt-media, stretched out in full view of anyone who cares, who dares, to pay attention.

Pedophilia — and much much worse.

I was introduced to glimmerings of this shadowy world in the late ’90s, when reading Kathy O’Brien‘s memoir Trance Formation of America: The True Story of a CIA Mind Control Slave. For years I didn’t believe it. But I couldn’t forget it. So I know just how difficult it must be for others to allow themselves actually grasp the terrible import of this abomination; how, for so long it has twisted life on earth in nearly unimaginable ways.

Let’s begin with a Qanon post, three days ago:


Open letter to the American People/Includes timeline of pedophile ring busts throughout modern history

MK Ultra Mind Control Survivor Recounts Her Experience [Video]

Spreadsheet Human Trafficking Arrests

I saved the very worst for last, wherein a victim speaks of her satanic abusers “laughing like hyenas” during their sacrificial rituals. The more pain, the better; the greater the suffering, the more gleeful their attitude.



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Who, When, Where, How, Why: Qanon?!?

More and more, I seem to be “coming down on the side of Q.” Despite my resolve to keep my mind open, I do find myself checking qanon.app several times each day. Some drops are easy to understand, most not; I greatly appreciate the plethora of Qanon decoders and contextualizers in the alt-media world. Examples:

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Final wrap-up on the week with the grandkids

I admit I was surprised. What? Send Kiera and Drew to spend a week here alone with Grannie Annie and uncle Colin? Without parents? Wow! OKAY!

Not that I don’t love both my dear older son Sean, their father, and their wonderful mother Sue, now divorced but living within a quarter mile. But to spend time with grandkids in the atmosphere we are creating here felt like a glorious opportunity. As indeed it was. Though there were “times to try men’s souls,” namely, I notice (again) that this generation does not really pay attention to helping others, or to cleaning up after themselves. And that’s hard on the people they live with, including their parents! I know this from past trips to visit in Massachusetts.

And, since we were only spending a week together, I didn’t want to come off as  a hard taskmaster!

So I cleaned up after them.

And besides, despite whatever their parents’ generation is instilling or not instilling into them, they’re still turning out to be pretty wonderful! Sensitive, aware, and I’m sure, tuned into the pregnant future of technology in a way that would blow my mind, should I choose to focus there. Which I don’t. On the other hand, I did ask one or the other to troubleshoot briefly, when glitches came up for me on any of my “devices” (computer, iphone, ipad). The generation just ahead of them, and that includes my housemates Dan and Alex, are also tuned in this way, for which I am eternally grateful.

Speaking of tasks, and willingness to do them, both kids did participate willingly in our regular Monday morning one-hour work party, in this case, weeding the outside of the south fence of the main garden, leaving perennial “weeds” that are also edible (purslane, and others). I did manage to get one “taskmaster” shot:

The morning after their arrival, they both shyly asked me if I would read their astrological charts for them. DONE! A one hour reading for each, alone, and recorded on their phones. As Drew said to Colin later, when asked, very serious: “It was surprisingly accurate.” To which I replied, “It will feel more accurate as you get older.” (In other words, you don’t know yourself that well yet!). Kiera was not really all that surprised by her reading, since I’ve been talking with her about her fiery chart for a few years, especially during our three-day train excursion from Boston to New York last November.

Except for the astrology, and time with the dogs (“You have two dogs?!?” Kiera, especially, was thrilled to meet Hank),

most of their time was spent outside, either riding bikes through the IU campus to downtown where they spent money the folks had given them for lunches and one (expensive) trip to a place that featured virtual experiences (don’t know what to call it, some kind of goggles that you wear to simulate whatever!), or with Colin and me, on adventures to Griffy Lake that first full day, and to the Yellowwood Dam to see if it would be suitable for UFO viewing.

The dam, from below:

Of course they disobeyed my orders and went onto the spillway, which a sign says is forbidden.

And worse: puppy Shadow followed them.

The energy between the two is remarkably balanced, even though Kiera is three years older. I take that to be mostly the work of Drew, who is a natural diplomat. Here they are, with Colin, on the teetertotter at the dam area.


I took them on a shopping expedition to Goodwill (Kiera came away loaded:  “I’m still wearing the clothes I got here two years ago”), to nearby Nashville for dinner one evening, and to our weekly Community Dinner on Thursday, which, instead of being held here on the patio of Green Acres Village, was at the home of Wanda, one of “the aunties,” for a pool party!

Kiera’s natural dominatrix came out there, but playfully.

Drew made a flying leap into the pool, asked me to take a pic. I tried, but it’s hard to tell.

Battling it out . . .

Afterwards, eating peacefully on the grass, where Asiri and Sophia joined us.

This week-long period was, as far as I can tell, the first time the two of them have ever spent together with so much time for themselves. And it feels so fitting, that this should occur only one week before Kiera is due to fly off to college, at the University of Colorado in Boulder. The intermountain west is a natural choice for her. She has already climbed Mount Washington three times, once on ice with crampons and ropes. The girl is not only intensely creative, but indefatigible in her desire to conquer her own fears as she traverses wild nature. So proud of her!

When Mariella heard that she wants to major in environmental design, she went crazy with excitement. “What? That’s what I wanted to study, but found out too late. Okay, you can come here and design for the Green Acres Village!” We all nodded. I had been talking with Kiera about that very thing. She might want to do some kind of an internship here, with us.

The final day held two surprises, both of them dramatic disappointments which we managed to climb out of.

The first: Kiera had wanted to go to a certain limestone quarry, since Colin’s girlfriend Kim told her about it, a quarry that features carvings on rock faces that are hidden from view and have been there a very long time. “But you’ll have to bushwhack,” warned Kim. “And there will be snakes!” added Rebecca. But Kiera was determined. As the day came around, both Colin and I pulled out. Drew said he was game, but then, when I dropped them off at the place Kim had pointed to, said “I’m going to be shopping at Aldi’s for the next 20 or 30 minutes, so if you need me, I’m nearby.”

Well, wouldn’t you know, text message in 20 minutes. Drew didn’t want to deal with the spiders. (They had agreed that one would lead, then the other, brushing spider webs away; but there was some dispute as to who was supposed to lead and when; I didn’t ask for more details; in any case, the dispute had stopped the expedition.) When I came to pick them up they were sitting about 100 feet from each other.  Hmmm . . . Kiera asked me to take them around to the other side of the quarry (which was next to another quarry; was it “active”?) Okay. When we got there, we realized that quarry was indeed very active, with trucks and booms rolling through.

This quarry expedition had been what Kiera had been looking forward to all week, and letting it go was decidedly difficult. In fact, she began to “pout” (old behavior), dropping farther and farther behind on the walk we did decide to take, together, on nearby Clear Creek trail. But she got over it, when Drew and I brilliantly decided to text her that we were going for coffee at Starbucks. And if she was here within the next ten minutes she could come too. Otherwise, we would pick her up afterwards.

Yes, she got there within ten minutes.

The second difficult experience had to do with the promised UFO watching, which was supposed to occur on the final night, at the dam. But cloud cover was just too widespread to make a dam expedition worth it. Searching for some other way to climax their visit, I came up with the idea of going to the top of the high hill that used to have the IU Bell Tower on it (it has been taken down in the past six months), and lying there, in the grass, to see what we could see.

So we did that, one on either side of me, and managed to focus our concentration well enough together for 45 minutes, to do what I suggested, part the clouds directly above us to allow in the sky. At least it did appear that we had done that! No UFOs, no ETS — but there was Mars, still in its closest approach to Earth during its retrograde period, visible above the horizon in the southeastern sky.

Lying there on the spiky grass between grandchildren Kiera and Drew, all of us expanded, aware, and focused skyward, I came as close to bliss consciousness as ever in my long life.

Earlier, the sky had announced how special that day was, gifting Bloomington with a rare, glorious sunset.

On Friday morning, dropping them off at the airport, Colin and I waved them off with “See you next summer, when you are 16 and 19!”

A wonderful week. So thankful to Sue and Sean for suggesting it.

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New Moon Partial Eclipse early morning TODAY! But new beginnings feel bogged down

Frankly, with the grandkids here, I just didn’t keep track of the timing for the final eclipse of this three-eclipse season. So here we are! It actually took place at 5:58 EDT this AM, and its effect, like all eclipses, may extend six months. If you have planets on or near the eclipse point, 18° Leo, or any of the other three fixed signs (Scorpio, Aquarius, Taurus) the eclipse effect will be more intense. Remember: the New Moon is the creative moment of each month when the new lunar cycle is set in motion. During this pregnant moment, anything can be happen, anything — and our commitment to this single step will set us in the new direction. And that this new moon is also a partial eclipse greatly magnifies the intensity of this NOW moment.

However, and it’s a big however. . . . First, let’s start with what’s happening to me. And then go on to the bigger issue, that this eclipse is occurring inside a situation when most planets are retrograde.

First, Me: Two computer glitches:

You’ll have to open the pdf, since the screenshot I took of this chart doesn’t appear on my desktop.  This screenshot problem began about the time Mercury turned retrograde . . . and it really hampers my work!

New Moon Eclipse

Also, I just heard from two people that the only way they can access my recent posts now is to type in my name, Ann Kreilkamp, and then they will appear under “Author.” I’d call this another strange Mercury retrograde phenomenon (attempts to communicate hampered) that happens to be coupled with the rare two-month Mars retrograde, plus, just this past week, Uranus turned to go retrograde, joining so many others, including Neptune, Saturn, and Pluto. What isn’t retrograde now, besides Sun and Moon which never are? Only two planets, Venus and Jupiter.

So we might as well enjoy this period where it seems as if we are held in place, not allowed to head out to any far shore, but instead must tread water, plus dive down, periodically, to work with old, unfinished business. Jupiter, at 14° of fixed watery Scorpio, provides the rich emotional context for stirring up all this old juicy gunk that we would prefer to stay buried, but just won’t stop burping up from below until we finally DO dive down — and either stay there, learn to breathe water like a fish, or come up briefly for air before diving again.

And, Jupiter at 14° Scorpio happens to exactly square Mercury at 14° Leo, which itself is conjunct the New Moon Eclipse at 18° Leo. So, this diving down concerns especially the long-standing need to work out old emotional shit with initimate others, but in the context of self-centered Leo pride, not wanting to admit to our part in whatever muddied the waters. Communication (Mercury) is essential, even though difficult, and possibly garbled until Mercury turns to go direct (August 19), and even then it will take awhile to move through its shadow period until out in the clear by September 2.

So, even though this IS a New Moon Eclipse, and thus promises an intensified New Beginning, all this old gunk stands in the way of clear sailing. We must attend to it first, period! And it’s not something that we can just say “Okay, done!” No. We have to work it through, and it takes time; we must go deeper and deeper, and it hurts like hell, some kind of old wound to the heart that has been festering so long that we hardly remember what it feels like to be in the clear!

The good news: The powerful Jupiter square Mercury/Sun/Moon also happens to create a triangular formation with Neptune at 15° Pisces. these five planets configure what I call a “Triangle of Continuous Growth” during this pregnant eclipse! — featuring one difficult aspect (square), one harmonious aspect (trine), and one somewhat difficult aspect (inconjunct). What happens here is that the drive to move through the difficulty (square) is both supported (trine) and requires continuous adjustment (inconjunct). That spiritual Neptune is involved indicates that, on subtle spiritual levels, both compassion and forgiveness are at work.

Meanwhile, please do remember that Mars doesn’t turn to go direct until August 27, and even then will not be released from its shadow period until early October.



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