by Catherine Kasala and Samuel Rose

From Sam: Last year, we wrote about our experiences with the 1991 multi-million Miller moth invasion of Colorado. By the end of the invasion, we had clearly declared our house a place where insects would not be killed. My usual procedure is to wait until the insect is on a wall, window or floor. I then put a drinking glass over it so I can continue to see where it is. I then gently slide a sheet of paper under it, take it outside, and free it. (One should not be in a hurry when pushing the paper under the glass. It is all too easy to clip off legs or wings by accident.)

This spring the most interesting things began to happen. Insects began to offer themselves up for capture! My wife or I would walk into a room, and find a spider in the center of the floor. A glass and paper would be found, then we'd come back and it would still be there. The spider would not get frantic while being captured. Moths were easy to catch. Houseflies would end up migrating toward screen doors which could be opened so they could fly out. We did not explicitly ask for our experience with the Miller moths to be generalized for all insects. But a few weeks ago, a batch of houseflies which must have hatched all at once, swarmed our kitchen windows. In ones and twos I took them outside with my glass and paper. It only took me about 20 minutes. At the end of that time, I had taken out 38 houseflies!

We still don't know which deva or devas decided to respond to us in this way. But we are delighted. Even though we are not sure that fewer insects are getting into the house, or that fewer eggs are being laid in the house (although it may eventually turn out that way), it is very clear that some experiment in human-insect cooperation (and goodwill) is going on. It is as if a new-found mutual respect and love of life, not just for insects, now permeates our household environment. The insects' obvious cooperation, displayed by their self-exposure and patience while waiting to be carried out, seems to be evidence of this underlying spirit.

From Catherine: It has been an interesting and fun year of growth for both us and the garden. One aspect of tremendous learning for us has been how human emotions can affect plants. In late spring of this year, some of our rose bushes in front of the kitchen windows didn't grow. Last year they astonished us with their riotous growth and blooms. This year, puny green shoots with few roses grew, while their neighbors, like last year, simply exploded with color and strong, vibrantly healthy stems. Even the aphids on the healthy plants' spring shoots disappeared without a trace in a few weeks.

Extremely concerned, I went through the Troubleshooting chart in the Perelandra Garden Workbook II. There were several processes that needed to be done with particular timing. I began to follow these steps and am still in the process of completing them. However, I was puzzled as to why only these particular rose bushes were affected. I connected with the Rose Deva and received the following explanation. My husband and I do most of our talking at the kitchen table next to the kitchen windows. Talking also includes arguing, negotiating, and processing many emotional and other aspects of our lives over meals and late afternoon or evening tea. While anger or other negative emotions do not predominate, the roses were simply being inundated on a daily basis with more human emotion than they could possibly cope with.

As this is our favorite place to talk because it gives us such a good view of the garden, we were both upset by my own hastily drawn conclusion that the health of our roses meant that we would not be able to sit there and talk. I expressed this to the Rose Deva, and was assured that we would still be able to enjoy the roses as we talked. One of the steps in the Troubleshooting chart was "other," and we were encouraged to buy some crystals to place on the window sill that would direct the emotional energy away from the roses. The Rose Deva assured us that as we grew in understanding through the steps of the troubleshooting process, further information (that would become clear) would enable us to enjoy our favorite spot without damaging the roses. As for the roses, they have begun to heal. There are new shoots and blooms. We also look forward to developing new shoots (ideas) and blooms (behaviors) that will facilitate our healing as well! We feel blessed by these roses as their health and growth, or lack thereof, is a tangible reflection of the patience and understanding required on both sides to participate in the co-creative process we share.

From Sam: Last June (1991), I started to co-author a book. Volumes of material came pouring out of my head. After a seven-month break, by February (1992) the book was ready for organization and editing, a prospect clearly as massive as the original first-draft writing had been. For some strange reason, I ended up not working on the book for five weeks. When I returned to the book, my Higher Self/Guides made the suggestion to start speaking to the deva of the book itself. I hadn't realized that the book had a deva, but it was very clear that it did. It turns out that she had definite ideas about what should and should not be in this book. It became clear that the book was in balance in a certain form. It was also clear that I could spend either more or less time getting it into that form, and that whatever I didn't have the willpower to delete, my senior co-author probably would. The first problem was three chapters, about 192,000 bytes. My guides said it was too big, and should cut it down to one chapter. Okay, swallow ego pride. I'll cut. But where? The task was overwhelming. So, I decided to ask the deva of the book. She knew exactly what to do. We went down the file paragraph by paragraph, and created the single chapter. It was so easy, so fast, so effortless, so painless. It took one day.

I finally got the evolution-involution thing. I didn't have to get egotistical and vain about "not doing it myself," because I had already set up the evolution (direction and purpose), and now was being given fantastic advice about the involution, better advice than I could give myself! I could see that after massive amounts of massaging the material, I might have eventually come to somewhat similar conclusions. So, I asked, "Working my old way, how long would it have taken me to do the work that we did in one day?" Answer, "Five weeks!" Exactly the time I had just "taken off." And I got to spend it doing other things. And how much time did I save after that, working with the deva on the rest of the book? Answer, "Three months!" Three months is one quarter of a work year. My ego issues about asking for this kind of help disappear.