A Canary Named Cassandra

Nobody ever listens to the Cassandras. Cassandras are the canaries in the coal mine. Canaries whose warnings are often ignored until it's too late.

The Rose and the White Lion

"I believe that our interconnectedness with nature is an integral part of the archetype of the Self as we exist in a field of intelligence beyond our ego consciousness. For me, wilderness interwoven with humankind’s ancient lived experiences and evolutionary leaps, as an archetypal pattern of the soul, constitutes the bedrock of our consciousness. Nature is sacred and invaluable to the overall well-being of human beings. When we destroy nature and the nonhuman other, we in essence destroy ourselves. I believe that the white lion as symbol of the Self - and protector of consciousness and humanity - calls us to awareness of ecological balance and the imperative of a proper relationship with the Self as embodied in the natural world and the nonhuman other." - Denise Grobbelaar

The Chronicles of Narnia:

Nobody ever listens to the Cassandras.

On August 25th, 2026, I kept clairvoyantly picking up on tsunami imagery. (I'm picking up on it again today, which is not uncommon. Certain symbols or themes tend to repeat or echo, almost like aftershocks. But it might also mean that a similar event or series of interrelated events might soon follow. Take, for example, the flash floods that took place in the Grand Canyon on the 29th.) Sometimes my visions are to be taken literally and sometimes they're metaphorical or figurative. But this particular "heads up" felt more literal than it usually does. Which is why I attached that specific GIF (from the Japanese tsunami) to the post. Whenever I am posting information that is channeled, I will attach imagery that my intuition is flagging as particularly relevant to the message or information that I am receiving.

Note the date and time. If you wish to the see the original post and not just a screenshot of it, you can find it here.

I was feeling some BIG, catastrophic energy all day that day:

And then...

I found out about it when I opened up BlueSky. This was the first post I saw, which referenced the 2011 tsunami in Japan:

The GIF I had used in my post was from the Tohoku tsunami:

The GIF:

Silent! Listen!

What does your Mother know?

She knows what's best.

But, are you listening?

And, are you acting in accordance with that inner instruction?

Intuition is Inner Tuition—the 💰 of Gnosis

Higher l[EAR]rning

Inner Hearing 👂 

Tully 🐟🤫🌊

GoT spoilers:

So, what is Mother trying to tell us?

The capitalist patriarchy has had its time in the sun. A system built on domination, extraction, and endless growth can no longer sustain us, nor can it exist in balance with the All. To restore balance within our communities and ecosystems, we must reconnect with Indigenous matriarchal and matrifocal wisdom and renew ways of living grounded in reciprocity, care, kinship, and stewardship of the Earth. We must remember that no one is an island unto themselves, and that EVERY life is connected to ALL life. Ubuntu: I am because we are.

Water symbolizes the subconscious. It is receptive, reflective, and responsive. Instinct and intuition flow beneath the surface of rational thought. Water is traditionally depicted as feminine because it receives, contains, nourishes, and gestates life. It ebbs and flows, rises and falls. The High Priestess personifies this sacred feminine principle of introversion, mystery, wisdom, eternal flux, and inner guidance.

Just as a pool reflects clearly only when its surface is still, inner knowing becomes perceptible when we silence the incessant "man-ologue" of masculine self-consciousness. The High Priestess is often depicted making a gesture of silence and robed in imagery of flowing water. She embodies the meditative practice of quieting mental chatter so that the hidden currents of the psyche can be felt rather than forced into rigid speech. This allows the contents of the subconscious mind to "rise up" and "surface" into conscious awareness.

This same principle appears in the Hanged Man, whose suspension interrupts ordinary action and reverses his perspective. By surrendering to the current instead of struggling against it, he enters a liminal stillness in which perception can turn inward and be transformed. The Hanged Man corresponds to the Hebrew letter Mem, meaning water: "Mem is mute, like water." Taken together, this imagery evokes the receptive state from which intuition—the Siren—is Risen. Thus, allowing a new way of seeing to emerge.

Me = We

We = Me

"...Then she begins talking about Parsifal, a wet-behind-the-ears kid who lived in the Middle Ages and wanted to become a knight in King Arthur's court. On his way to Camelot, he wandered into a country that was a total wasteland. Nothing would grow, animals couldn't reproduce, and people walked around like zombies.

Someone took him to see the king, whose name was Amfortas. The king was in bed with a gaping wound in his groin. The wound was so terrible, legend has it, that he kept it on a pillow beside the bed. Without knowing why, Parsifal sensed that the wound had something do to with the desolate state the country was in. Someone asked if he had any idea what might help it heal, and two questions popped into his mind. He decided they were dumb questions so he said no and went on his way.

He wandered in a huge circle and, after a while, found himself back at the bedside of the king. This time, he thought he might as well ask his dumb questions. Dumb question number one: "What ails you?" Dumb question number two: "What purpose does it serve?" As soon as he got the second question out of his mouth, the wound healed right before his eyes. At the same instant, the wasteland was transformed. Grass turned green, crops started to grow, people came back to life, and baby animals began being born all over the place.

"So what does it mean?" asks the lady with the chain. "The Amfortas wound represents the illusion of separateness, the notion that a human being is nothing but a skin-encapsulated bag of meat and bones, dragging around a dreary little ego and separated by his or her hide from the rest of the natural world. People who buy into this belief tend to live what Thoreau called 'lives of quiet desperation.' The wasteland.

"Question number one let the king know he wasn't totally isolated. Someone cared enough to reach out and inquire about his health. Question number two was a revelation. Every single healer the king had consulted began by asking what caused the wound. In the mind of the king, the idea that his suffering might be serving some real purpose closed the imaginary gap between himself and the rest of the natural world. That healing transformed the king's life experience from a wasteland into a happy, productive place."" - via The Wizdom Within by Dr. Irving Oyle