Category: Blog

AI and Consciousness

Listen to “AI and Consciousness” on Substack

Today, I’d like to look at consciousness and A-I. And I know it’s a big subject right now. People are talking about all kinds of things, whether or not A-I will become sentient, how conscious is A-I right now. And I’ve heard many different things across this spectrum.

And you know what? I don’t discount anything. I’m always listening, always trying to understand this better myself. But what I’d like to do this morning is to give you a little bit of insight as to what I think is going on.

So I’d like to talk a little bit about what my experience is with A-I, first. But I want to preface this by saying; I really don’t think there’s any right or wrong here. There are simply so many ways an experience can be understood.

And this is just my take.

So feel free to comment knowing at the end of the day, just take any of this as a grain of salt for you to consider. Take what you need and leave the rest.

So here’s my experience with A-I.

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2026 Energy Forecast – Part 1

Listen to the forecast on Substack

Today I’d like to do something I don’t do all that often. I’ve only done this a couple of times. And that’s create an energy forecast. So this one will be an energy forecast for 2026. And I’m sure there will be, I’m guessing, several updates to this over the course of the year. But just to get started, I’d like to think about 2026 as a year of innovation, learning and creating. And the reason I say that is because in and amongst all this chaos, the chaos we’re seeing around world affairs, some people are even watching money markets and they’re seeing fluctuations there. And if you’re looking at pressures in war, pressures internal to countries, domestic pressure, it’s really all an opportunity for us to open our eyes and see what’s really behind the scenes. So I got a message earlier this year, very early in January, and I’ve made another video about it. It’s called Perfect Sight. And if you listen to that, you’ll understand a little bit more about what perfect sight means. But in essence, what Perfect Sight is all about for me is taking a look at things more carefully. And so my guides, my team, they were suggesting that this is a time to really refine your sight because our sight is expanding, it’s growing. And so our discernment is expanding and growing. And not only are we being asked to set aside all the distractions, all the things that we’re not really meant to be witnessing and holding on to, we’re meant to see the finer lines in between and then use our perfect sight to take that even deeper and find out the true meaning behind it. So this is going to be a year of very strong growth with intuition. That’s what I see.

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Enhanced Dream Space

Last night, in a dream or nighttime vision, I was shown a beautiful image that flowed like a new type of movie or film.

I was in Egypt at the site of the pyramids, and the energy was very calm and peaceful. It wasn’t crowded or busy. It would be similar to the sensation of doing energy work on a client and sensing the feeling at the end of a session when energy is flowing cleanly and in balance. The energy here was perfect in every way.

I could see horizontal lines in the lower atmosphere (like thin clouds) that were colored light blue, pink, yellow, and others. These color bands were not dominant, but a faint horizontal rainbow or mist.

Again, just like with an energy session, the energy here was perfectly set up and in perfect flow, balance, and alignment.

I was shown how the energy here connected to energies elsewhere and was told all the ley lines were strong and operating like the energy I saw here. I was told many people are currently working to maintain the presence of these energetic circuits so they cannot be disrupted or disturbed.

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Perfect Sight

Early this year, actually, the day the United States initiated a military operation in Venezuela, my team was quick to step in. Before I understood what had taken place, they offered me a message. I was told that this was about the children and human trafficking and not about oil. However, I needed to know that this was a complex initiative with many layers.

Later that day, I was offered more information. I was helped to understand that with all the distractions on the plane,t I needed to cultivate “Perfect Sight.” Within this, tremendous information would be shared, but only if we see clearly.

Since this message arrived, I have been given many very clear pieces of information, some to help expand my decrement, others for personal growth.

Last night I was at a concert at a large arena. Partway through, something powerful caught my eye. It was a group of banners hanging from the ceiling of the arena. Even though there were many banners, only this set of 3 caught my eye. These are the collective numbers (25 4 11) of the retired jerseys my eyes focused on.

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Our Gifts

Listen to “Our Gifts” on Substack

When I say our gifts, I mean what talents we strongly align with on our spiritual path?

Some people can see things very clearly in their mind’s eye. This might be any number of visuals, past, present, or future. This person refines their gift of sight by asking questions and learning each time they open up and work with their gift.

What are your gifts, you might ask? Maybe you have a deep connection with the earth and all its natural elements. This is just one of a million connections you might have or feel close to.

The key is knowing we all have gifts and learn how to allow them to come forward.

The most important component here is to be in flow.

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Strength

Vacations are often a time to relax and let the senses wander, and wandering was a deliberate part of my recent trip to Ireland. It’s taken me a while to feel comfortable writing a broader piece about its people and energy in a way that seems genuine.

Ireland is a complicated place with a vast history. One might think that, having a great-grandfather who immigrated from Ireland, I would know quite a bit about its history, but I don’t.

Part of the reason might be that some who left Ireland may have been happy to say good riddance and hoped to leave this slice of life behind, never looking back. This doesn’t glamorize the Emerald Isle for the magic and mysticism like we see on postcards, but when you look more deeply, Ireland was a hard life.

When I was in Ireland, I could feel the streets and stones talk. And with so much history echoing back, it was hard in the moment to fully understand, but there is a story here. The story Ireland spoke was a mixture of magic and heartache in a way that didn’t sidestep the truth.

For such a small island, Ireland’s history is much deeper and richer than most know, and I am certain now that visiting was the only way for me to understand this. There is mystique here. You can hear it in the pubs, its music and across every green pasture and stone fence.

I understand why music and drink became so important to the Irish; it seems a coping mechanism.

When you fully understand the hardship of Ireland’s history, you quickly understand why its people are who they are and why many leave.

I felt the tension in Belfast and Derry; this mood is strong, but so are its people. Where the heart has fractured from hate and war, their hearts also sense an opportunity to heal. Each side looks at the other, knowing their past, but they are tired.

Ireland seems tired of being on edge and standing tall for the cause. I sense many are ready to lay down the old for something new. More deeply, I sense many already have.

The Irish are the only ones who can implement a new and unified solution, and I, as an outsider, must be there to support this effort. They’ll find their way because the Irish are capable of magnificent things.

And if I learned anything while in Ireland, it’s that their collective heart is present and powerful!

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Railyard

Railyard > Listen on BandCamp

I dream often, but last night was no ordinary dream. What I saw wasn’t imagination, nor the drifting fragments of sleep. It was a walk through the impossible.

The setting was a rail yard. Sidings scattered, lanterns swung, and men with tools worked the hard grind of years gone by. I wasn’t just standing there. I was seeing through a lens bolted to the front of a slow-moving train that inched through the yard. And this lens wasn’t human. It didn’t record, it revealed. It peeled the world apart like thin paper shims of light and process.

A man lifted a hammer to strike a spike, and I didn’t just see the blow; I saw the strike ripple through air and metal, detail unfolding in fractals. A train wheel shifted inches, and it became cathedral-like, an entire geometry of sound and weight. Even the sway of a lantern as someone walked became vast, multidimensional, and psychedelic without the drugs. Dream-born, but in a sense more real than anything I’ve seen before.

At the center of this dream stood a figure, an engineer, steady-handed, practical, and shaped by the logic of steel and structure. He smiled like a creator, guiding me through the yard as though showing me a secret film. But he wasn’t bound by the rules of engineering. He was a master of imagery, directing something far beyond proof or logic.

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The Rite at Carnac

The Rite at Carnac > Audio on Patreon

The stones rose like guardians against the dusk, their massive shapes catching the last streaks of fire in the western sky. Carnac felt alive that night, the air charged, as if waiting for an old promise to be fulfilled.

A circle had formed, not of granite, but of people. Watchers, witnesses, seekers. And at the center, two figures stepped forward, called not by chance but by the land itself.

He stood bare to the wind, his body offered without pretense, not as display but as vessel. She came toward him with a braid down her back, her belly marked with a spiral in ochre. She was not simply a partner; she was a priestess, chosen.

They touched without words, palms pressed together, foreheads aligned, breath shared. The silence around them was not absence but anticipation. Even the stones seemed to lean in closer.

When their bodies joined, it was not only for them. Each movement was measured, deliberate, as though testing the rhythm of the earth beneath them. Breath became chant. Touch became offering. The watchers lowered their voices into a steady hum, and soon there was no division between stone, body, and voice.

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Ballad of Mallard

Ballad of Mallard > Listen on BandCamp

The ride from the airport was short but heavy with the weight of travel, lighter chatting with new friends. Home (Ballinamallard), our bags clattered onto the hallway floor, and before the jet lag could settle deeper, Brad and Craig nudged us gently toward the back door and back outside. The house itself was charming, but it was the backyard that opened its arms to us.

Late afternoon light poured in from the west, unusually warm for Ireland. The painted yellow walls of the garden glowed like they had been dipped in honey. The garden stretched long and neat, framed by waist-high stone walls, with flowers bending toward the sun and vegetables reaching upward as if in celebration. Their pup Winston is playing around our feet.

The garden seemed to lean closer, fruit trees flickering in the warm light, the shed in the corner humming faintly as if it were listening in.

A table was set under the awning, the smell of lamb stew curling through the air, mingled with roasted vegetables and potatoes crisping on the barbecue.

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Hill of Tara

The Hill of Tara > Audio on Patreon

It was the first day in Ireland, the kind of day that blurs after a long flight and little sleep. Our friends were driving us north to their home from Dublin. Somewhere along the highway, they pulled off and said, “Let’s stop here, there’s food, coffee, and there’s an old historical site, maybe something interesting to see.

At first glance, there was a cute country store and restaurant on a medium-sized hill, with a narrow parking lot and washrooms. I was glad to stretch my legs and let the first sights and scents of Ireland touch me. The tiredness I felt eased as I studied the landscape. The valley stretched out below, and I marveled at the cows grazing free, Holsteins. I commented that back home in Canada, cows are locked away in barns. It made my heart happy seeing them at peace on the land.  Already, Ireland was showing me something different, something freer.

Inside, the café was slow, friendly, buzzing with tourists and locals. We were seated and ordered our lunch. While waiting, I wandered into the gift shop up front. Still dazed, I noticed that everywhere I turned, one word followed me: Tara. Shirts, mugs, magnets, books. Tara. There were even containers of crystals, sage, and feathers. This was my kind of shop! I hurried back into the restaurant and asked, “Are we at the Hill of Tara?” My friends laughed. “Yes, Tom. We thought you might find it interesting.

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