The High Beings

Venus and Friends

Thursday, December 18th, 2008


My brother, Art The Jeweler, his wife MaryEllen and I are sitting in the local coffee shop. We’re hunkered up to a very high table in very high chairs which makes our legs hang well short of the floor.

A youngish fellow with brown hair that skitters from the back of his skull toward his forehead, sits with us. He has been chatting (shouting interminably, actually) about his mother, his concern for her health and hers for him, little snippets about his odd life and gem stones. Suddenly, he says, “Wait a minute! I’ve got something in the car.” He drops off his chair and races out the door.

Art and MaryEllen look at me and they both say, “50/51.”


“50/51,” MaryEllen repeats. “That means he’s 50% here and 51% not. A little bit not right…you know?”

“Oh. I’ve never heard that one. Got it.”

The young fellow is fast. He pushes the door back open, jumps up onto his chair and slams a small brown suitcase down on the table. He flips it open. It contains rows of brown, sparkly cut gem stones.

“I found these out in the back country,” he says. “Can’t tell you where. They talk to me.”

They do?” I squeak. I am intrigued. “What do they say?”

The fellow leans back a bit in his chair and says seriously, “I’m directed by The Inter-Galactic Beings. We converse.”


He goes to get a drink of water.

I lean next to my brother, ready to whisper some catty remark, but I jerk upright and stop short, just in time.

“Oh my god,” I say, “I talk to the Beings, too!”

Along with cell phones, people like this fellow…and really can’t tell who’s ‘crazy’, anymore.



You know I’m trying It’s only been about two weeks, but I am already rather overwhelmed by it and it’s making me tired. I finally decide to call one of the men who proffers his phone number. I email him and say when I will call.

I’m nervous as I dial the number. A gruff male voice answers saying, “Hallow!”


“I’m Venus!” I shout. I’m nervous, remember?


“Venus! I’m Venus! You know….”


“Yes. Venus. Is this a good time to talk?”

“You’re Venus?”

The man sounds kind of chokey and strange. Ah oh. I get it.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” I say. “I must have the wrong number. Well…too bad. Good-bye.”

As I am hanging up I hear, “Wait! Wait! Wait!’

The next day, I’m laughing and laughing at my art class. I’m telling my art teacher, Stan, and my friends Regina and Carol, about the phone call.

“Can you imagine,” I say, “out of nowhere this poor lonely man who’s sitting in front of the TV in a dingy tee-shirt with a can of beer, minding his own business, gets a call from Venus! And, he suddenly realizes it’s Venus! The Goddess of Love calling him and already she’s hanging up because he wasn’t quick enough on the uptake and he’s shouting, ‘Wait, wait, wait’ and she’s gone!”

Stan is doubled over. He’s wiping tears from his eyes.

“He will think about this and talk about this, forever,” he says. “Even now he’s telling all the guys at work about how Venus called and he lost her! Time will go by and he will still be thinking about his loss and will want to beat himself with a stick.”

…..Yep. Sometimes you just have to grab something good when it shows up, and don’t waste too much time thinking about it…..



The rain is hitting the windows, hard. My mother and my sister Polly and I are sitting together, talking about the economy. Mother says, “Remember when you kids were little and your father and I lost everything raising turkeys?”

“Yes,” Polly says. “There were eight of us living in that old 900 square foot house and we six kids slept in the garage.”

“The feed company couldn’t take our house because your father had homesteaded it. But, they took everything else. They came in and took away everything on the property. Everything. They carted off everything we had.”

We’re quiet for a moment, remembering that time.

Then, Mom says, “I didn’t care what they took. I thought, ‘Oh well.’

“By that time, you Polly, had lived through what we were told would be a fatal illness and I was grateful and glad that I had you and all my family. I was so glad just to have all you kids and your father. I didn’t care what anyone took from me as long as I had you. Material things don’t matter.”

“And Mom,” I say, “remember when you had to sell all the furniture in the house to feed us kids?”

Mom says she does remember that.

“I told my radio audience today,” I say, “that I think what is happening in the economy and all the various corrupt systems being brought down, (and they will be!) is exciting. I’m glad to see us sweeping out all the decay. I told my listeners that I am caught up in the money problems like everyone else, but that if I had to live on the streets with a shopping cart, I could seriously do it. Now, I see why. I was brought up to know about these things!”

Polly adds, “We just all have to hang together and everyone has to help everyone else. Family members have to help each other and so do friends and even people who don’t know each other have to help. It’s a big circle of holding together and helping. It’s good for us. This is a good time in so many ways. We don’t need all this material stuff we think we need. We just need each other. We need to just all love each other and extend our hands to everyone who needs us.”

“When we reach out and pull someone up, someone may also be pulling us up,” I say. “But, I am not afraid. I feel comforted by all the real love that I feel happening between people and surrounding me, too.”

Polly hands us some chocolates. We feel even better now.

It’s dark outside and I get up to go home.

“I’m just worried about the animals,” I say. “That bothers me. They are caught up in all this and are left to fend for themselves. People abandon them. Shelters are too full to take more. We need to put out our hands to the animals.”

I’m talking to the choir. I have a cat that was found in the road and I have many ferrel cats that have been fixed and have a home. Mine.

My dog is a mixed mutt.

Mom has a cat, Sassy, that was abused. She has a found dogĀ  named Becky and I found a little black kitten crying in a field on one of my walks and hauled her over to my mother’s house. Her name is Josie.

Polly is The Queen of Found and Abandoned Animals. She has separate rooms in her house for them and they have their own doors for their personal comings and goings.

I hope you, my friends, will take the rest of the animals that need our help! We are full up over here.



My grandgirl, Lexi, has turned six years old. To celebrate, she and her mom, Summer, take popsicles to her school. Lexi tells her dad that the kids were eating them at the break, when Nick, five years old, with thick rimmed glasses and a buzz cut, turned to her and said, “You look as good… as these popsicles taste.”

Wow. Nick is only five years old and Lexi has just turned six.

Summer and Charles know this is just The Beginning.



A friend calls me, wailing. Her forty three old Minister brother, has just called her from the airport. His wife has kicked him out of the house and he doesn’t know where to go or what to do.

The wife caught him in a naked and telling situation, with the church secretary. The church fired him immediately and hisĀ  wife than threw him out of the house.

“What about the girlfriend,” I ask.

“Oh, she doesn’t want him anymore, either,” says my friend. “And, his teenage kids won’t speak to him.”

Her brother’s entire life has changed in moments. And his dick did it. His dick brought down the house. Got rid of his job, too.


Another friend, a woman who has been married for twenty some years and has five children, confides to me.

“My husband quit sex the day we got married. The very day. It was over. In fact, the first time I got pregnant, I thought, ‘how did that happen?!'”

“Of course, we’ve had sex since then; we do have five kids…but, it’s maybe only once every six weeks or two months. I’m tired of this kind of marriage. He’s a high powered, well thought of business man but he gives me no attention. Talking to him about it changes nothing.”

She sighs. “I just keep reminding myself about how it was when I met him, how crazy I was about him, how great the sex was, how much I loved him. I still love him. I don’t know what to do.”

It’s strange. The minister’s dick did too much and this man’s dick won’t do anything. Dick’s can be very troublesome. They have lives of their own.



It’s 9:30 at night and a woman friend calls. “Venus. Are you OK?”

“Of course.” I set down the book I’m reading. “Why.”

“You weren’t at the dinner party. You were the only one who didn’t show up. Your place at the table was the only empty one.”

“Oh no! I missed the dinner party?! Oh no! I forgot! That was tonight?”

“It was and we had a wonderful, wonderful time.”

I hang up the phone, sit on my bed and cry. I so wanted to be at that dinner party. I have waited three weeks for it and I got my days mixed up. I missed all that fun with my friends. I am devastated. I know it’s a small thing, but I am so sad. I cry some more and go to bed and I don’t sleep.


It’s several days later and my hairdresser calls. She too is crying. She has her own tale of woe. And, now her woe is mine. She’s had to move to Oklahoma! And, she is never coming back. She’s crying and I am crying. I love my hairdresser and now because she is gone, I will never be lovely, again. No one can cut my hair like she does and no one can color it like she does. She is an artist.

I think about all the terrible, terrible hair cuts and mangy colors I had before I met K. And now my friend K. has lost her home and has had to move far away. This is even worse than missing the dinner party.

I am so selfish and so sorry for myself but I am also laughing. I am so lucky, I think, that this is the worst that has come my way, recently. It’s a silly, silly worseness.

I am sorry for K. and I am sorry for myself, but I know that K.’s life will be better. She wispered to me a few months back that she had had a dream where she had to move to Oklahoma where she met and married a wealthy rancher.

Sometimes the worst things turn out to be the best things. Maybe K. will get married and loll around in a shortie nightie and eat sugared grapes and I will find a hairdresser even more fabulous than K. could happen. You never know in life, now do you? It’s just not a good idea to kill yourself, or to give up and into despair until you round the next bend in the road. And, than, you had better wait until you see what’s around the next bend in the road, too, and the next, because…you just never, never know when you will be struck by The Goddess of Good Lightening, just waiting for you, just waiting to poke you with her Wowzing Good Luck Stick when you least expect it.



One of my brother-inlaws is a wonderful photographer and astrologer. (He also plays the wild drums for a troop of belly dancers!) Here is his website.


WINNER OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: *Kim Commons. Offer valid through Dec. 20th, 2008. After that, null and void

A Startling Message from the Universe

Thursday, May 22nd, 2008

My daughter Summer, is upset.
She says, “I am not normal! Tell them I’m not normal!”

I just told her that someone who listens to us on the radio and reads my blog, wrote to me very affectionately, “Your Mom, your granddaughter Lexi and you are so weird but Summer is right there in the middle and she is the only normal one.”

Summer almost has tears in her eyes.
“I’m not normal, Mother.”

This surprises me. She has always been the serious counterbalance to my extravagant nature. I have learned to step with care around her with all my high excitement and outrageous opinions and actions.
She has never liked me to talk about her or her life, to others, so I am cautious.

I think Lexi has wrought a desire in Summer to be more like us. Lexi is five and as Summer says, because of her brilliance and her fiery, passionate, dramatic and emotional nature, 90 percent of her time has to be given to Lexi.
As my mother says, ‘Lexi is just like you, Venus. Only more so.’

I believe that Lexi has finally worn Summer down and battered her up so much that Summer has decided to give up and join us. Why not? It’s hard being in the middle.

As Summer says, “With Lexi, I feel like I am raising my mother! And, you are on one side of me and Lexi is on the other.”

Today, Summer is at my house with Lexi and her two year old brother, Loch ‘the perfect child, the boy with the curly, wild and white blonde hair, the botticelli angel with the beautiful smile.
He’s the two year old who thinks before he acts, who listens when we say ‘no,’ the child who is balanced and calm and in love with beauty and people. He’s the boy who naps for 2-3 hours a day, goes to bed at 7PM and plays happily in his crib for an hour in the morning after he wakes up.’

Totally, the opposite in almost every way to his sister who races full-on all day and goes to bed at midnight; if her folks are lucky. Lexi is the girl who plays with the boys at pre-school because the girls can’t match her speed and frenetic energy.

Today, Lexi has been a dog for the past hour or two. She is racing around the floor on all fours, coming over to occasionally lick our legs and beg for attention.

I have fixed her a plate of scrambled eggs, catsup and mixed fruit. Lexi doesn’t like to eat until 8:30 at night when she becomes ravenous, so we wheedle and deedle with her all day, trying to get protein into her. We have given up any pretense of pretending that she is a normal child who can sit at the table with us for a regular meal. We have given up on silverware, too. Her fingers work better except when she is a dog and must be fed by hand.

Every time she wings by us, barking and yapping, her mother or I shove some egg into her mouth or a piece of fruit.

Eventually, I get up from the table and wander off to my bedroom. I open and step into my closet. I’m changing my shirt, calling out something to Summer when she finds me and comes into the closet with me. We’re chatting earnestly about something when I notice that Summer is trying to shove a large chunk of pineapple into my mouth. I open obediently, then come to my senses, and shout, “What are you doing?”

Summer blinks, comes out of some kind of trance and says, “….Oh! Oh! I was on a mission, looking for Lexi, I was going to put this pineapple in her mouth when I heard you chatting from the closet and came in and I guess…I guess, well you know how it is when you’re on autopilot? I was just following through!”

This is so ridiculous that we start laughing madly and of course, I drop to my knees where I can laugh even more.

“This proves you aren’t exactly normal, Summer!”

I think she feels better when she hears that.

I’m now sufficiently dressed and we’re all in the car, zipping across town to visit the semi-feral kitties at my friend Carol’s house. This is our second visit. Summer and the kids are getting to know he kitties so they can take two home when the cats are old enough.

Let me amend the semi-feral cat statement. They are more feral then we thought, even though they live half in Carol’s garage and half in her laundry room. How do I know this?

Because of a piercing scream that comes from Summer after we have been with the kitties for about ten minutes.

“It bit me! It bit me! The little, beige cat bit me!”

I saunter over to take a look. Ummm. Summer’s bleeding like Red Rose in the fairy tale who was stuck by thorns. She’s holding up a middle finger which gushes with blood like a small fountain. Summer’s mouth has formed an ‘0’ shape and her eyes are rolling like pin balls in a tin cup.

This is where I am going to tell you that Summer is not normal. She has a phobia. She got it from me, who got it from my father who got it from his mother. We are nervous. But, only about certain diseases. We’ve had to specialize, otherwise there wouldn’t be time to have other things in our lives.

Summer is afraid of Lexi being sick. She is afraid of Lexi’s high fevers and mysterious rashes.
She is afraid of cat bites and rabies and cat scratch fever and stepping on rusty nails.

“I think it’s time to go home, Summer,” I say.

We’ve washed the finger up with soap and peroxide and bound the middle finger in a big wad of white kleenex. She holds it straight up in the air with blood melting through it.

I think I may have to carry her to the car but she makes it and we even remember to take the kids.

Summer is driving, but not so well. She has a glaze over her eyes and I know she is thinking, ‘The cat has rabies, I’m going to die or maybe get a horrible, horrible infection and this has ruined my day.’

She stares ahead at the country road we are on and creeps the car along.

“You will be fine,” I say.

No response. She drives with the tissued, bloody finger held straight up off the steering wheel.

What can I say? I know what phobias are like. They take you over. They ruin your life. They turn you into a ball of stupid terror.

We inch along. Finally, we come to the turn off to my street. A dark, dusty car roars past us on my side and the man gives Summer The Finger.

“That man just gave you The Finger!” I say.

“I don’t care,” Summer says. “He’s been following me all the way home.”

Ah. No wonder.

We’re in the house now and I’ve got Summer sitting on my beautiful blue, very hip and very uncomfortable new couch.

I have given her a special medicine for all occasions, a glass of dark red wine.

“You’ll feel better, soon,” I say.

“I won’t,” Summer says. “This has ruined my day. Why would this happen!? What could possibly be the reason for this?”

She holds up her middle finger twisted with kleenex, for me to see.
She is giving me The Finger!

Suddenly, it all comes clear.

“I know why it happened!” I shout. “I know why! I know why! You’re giving me The Finger! You got your middle finger bit. The man in the old car gave you The Finger! It’s the Universe saying…”F… IT! F… IT!
All this stuff is just not worth worrying about! Give up all your worries and your fears. Give it all The Finger! Oh Wow! How Cool!”

Damn. I’m a genius. Or, maybe the Universe is and I’m a good interpreter.

Summer is so shocked, that she bursts out laughing.
“Do you really think that’s it?” she says.

“Of course it is! How much more clear could this Sign From The Universe Be?!”

We go hysterical with laughter.

“You’re right,” Summer says. “I’m not going to worry about this cat bite anymore. I think the Universe is right. I got the message twice, bang, bang. I think it’s time for me to say that about a lot of things in my life. Just F… It.”

And, the Universe,” I say, choking with glee, “found a shocking way to tell you!”
Har Har Har Har.

And we take that red wine and we toast the Universe and thank It for showing Summer what to do and with such clarity and in a way that she could see it!

addendum: Summer went to the doctor and he says she’s fine and she won’t get rabies. And, she didn’t get an infection, either, so let’s hear it for the Universe, Hip, Hip, Hooray. Give All Your Annoyances ‘The Finger!’


What the Beings Say About Manifesting

Thursday, February 14th, 2008

November 20th, 2007, I was at my daughter Summer’s house, baby-sitting my two little grandkids. While one was sleeping and the other was occupied, I sat down in a puffy chair and began reading a book about the Universe.
This caused me to wander off somewhere in my head as I began thinking about the Scientific view of the Universe.

Shortly, The Beings began talking to me. I snatched up some paper and began jotting down what I heard and saw. All the words in parenthesis are mine. ( )
(For more about The Beings, please see the end of this article.)


“Time was created all at once and We move-or appear to move-in Time.

We follow the path of least resistance-it takes a force to manifest ‘Other’.

This is why God Awake can manifest completely; while God Un-aware/Un-awake, moves little.

The more Aware, the more the move; the ‘Move’ or manifestation (which shows as happening is) outside the ‘Path’ or ‘Curve’ of least resistance.

The mind can indeed, move faster then the speed of light. It follows another formula. It is another force, (currently) unthought of.

There are indeed, many Universes…not One. A ‘jell’ holds Them in place. Like jello, as You say.

Yes, the so-called ‘Future’ can be changed. But, the Future is not the ‘Future.’ It already ‘Is.’ Everything already Is.

As We become more God Aware, We make more conscious choices from Our personal buffet. Otherwise, We do follow the path of least resistance, which is in fact our God Plan; The Plan that We as God Aware have set for Our course in this Experience.

All is well and is always well, because Your God (Your God Awake Self) has set the Course.

Part of Your Personal Course may be, indeed, making choices of one thing over another, or others. You but think You (currently) set the course and choose the outcome. Why else would a wish or a desire occur to or be shown to You? It is a possibility within Your Course.

You become above The Law when You are fully Awake to ‘Yourself’ as God the Creator.”

(I ask the Beings, ‘Can I then surrender to God’s Will for the most pleasant course or outcome?’)

“You can.”

(‘So, if I choose not to battle or strive for attainment of what I think I want, I can still have a pleasant life?’)

“If You are Awake enough You can. You must be somewhat Awake in order to surrender to Yourself.”

(‘Then would You say that an uneducated or ignorant person or a person of limited intelligence could also surrender?’)

“Indeed. ‘The meek shall inherit the earth.’ The simple minds are often most able to see clearly, unfettered by the extraneous.”

(‘I feel a push-pull in my life. It’s a question of shall I surrender or shall I attempt to manifest everything I think I want.’)

“Try it both ways.

What could be the harm in relaxing into Your Path; into Your Course?

When You are more and more Awake, manifesting will lose it’s struggle. You will see clearly and know and ‘It’ will happen. You will see rightly.

Now, We do not always, or even often, see rightly. We think We know what we need and want, but the result often brings hardship or a sense of ‘Is this all there is?'”

To learn more about The Beings and to read and listen to what They say, please go to and click on the information about Them. As They said to me once, “We gave You the ‘Dick and Jane Version of Life.’ (Dick and Jane being the first grade Readers from the 50’s.) The first 2 CDs in the series of “God Is Always Happy” are available at

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