Letting the Spirit Story Flow

Sacred Vow by CG Walters, Dragon’s Beard Publishing

 

It seems that a lot of angst would be spared if the spiritual path—and life, in general—had an undeniable standard pattern that could guarantee we were ‘on track’. There would be an invariable voice of the intuitive, heard by everyone—that you could compare with what your friends heard, just to make sure you were tuned into the right channel. Maps could be acquired in advance of any planned spiritual progression, to do away with all the years of meandering through endless forays.

So much effort is required to first determine if the mounting need within should be responded to as a worthy motivation or merely (as we are often told) a chance to mature—in the real world a word frequently implying a directive to ‘neglect,’ ‘deny,’ or ‘rationalize’. Once certain we have a true calling to this path, we must next determine from just where the voice of one’s guiding intuitive will emanate. What language will we use to communicate with it—service, art, and dance, even words? What environment will most likely evoke its presence?

For me, one of my most powerful connections to the Absolute—the Tao, or whatever you may call the unified intelligence—has turned out to be through just the right story: something that takes the form of an extended mantra, imbued with a rhythm and symbolism resonating so personally that it seems surely to be a direct manifestation of my intuitive self. Such a ‘chant’ lures me beyond my imagined limitations, to allow me to unreservedly embrace an otherwise untouchable identity.

That being the case, I guess I should not have been surprised when over time, I became aware that whenever my higher self, spirit guides, or other such familiars have been unable to otherwise get a piece of learning across to me, one of their choice tools is to bring it to me in the form of a story—even if I am the writer of that story. No matter what I have in mind, or am working on, I find my writing activities are suddenly hijacked along a previously unanticipated path. If I am in the midst of a neglectful sabbatical from writing, my mind becomes so inflicted with an unfolding tale that I must write it down to free myself from its clamor.

These playful friends of mine (my muses) are quite talented. For, as soon as they force me back to the keyboard, or by the moment that I realize that we have taken a “wrong” turn (if I was currently in a writing cycle), my conscious mind has already been seduced into gladly following their whimsy.

As a rule, once their intended lesson is conveyed via the resulting story, I am amazed that I was not already consciously aware of the information they have presented. Quite often I am such a complete convert that I cannot imagine how I could have been unaware of this particular information previously. Sometimes I suspect that I merely want to have as much as my instruction as possible delivered in this, my most favorite way.

I can’t offer any reasonable excuse for why I have periodically withdrawn from writing when I know that is the fount of so much valuable instruction for me. The most likely justification that I can offer is what flows before me is sometimes more than I was prepared to stand up before: sometimes “the truth may be recognized before the peace to live it is realized.”

The last time I had the good fortune of a being redirected along a path of instruction, I was making my way to rework a long-neglected bit of writing: doing preparatory exercises of short stories. Without warning, one of the stories—that soon became my novel, Sacred Vow—lay hold to my attention, far exceeding my intentions. I pursued, curious about what passed before me. After hour upon hour of following this new lure, I came out of my little 3×5 writing closet in a deep meditative state. Clearly, this story would be no mere preparation for another. Shortly afterwards, my job was downsized. I now had no excuse not to follow with abandon.

My writing closet—so small that I must turn the chair away from the desk to be able to stand and open the door to leave—may be an appropriate environment for inducing a meditative state—sitting in the dark for long hours, staring at a single light before me (the computer monitor). But I think there was something more going on. For ten to twelve hours a day, over the next several of weeks, I followed where the experience led. I was enjoying the story unfolding before me, but I was ecstatic from the sensation of extended periods of being connected to my higher self. My wife said that I possessed a radiance when I walked into the house during breaks in the writing. True, I typed in the text, but I did not initially imagine their meanings.

Weeks later, hiking with a friend, I told him of some of the views of reality unfolding in this new book. After listening attentively, he said: “Do you really believe this is the way it works?”

We continued deeper into the woods, as I gave his question thought. I was a little amused at the answer I finally had to admit. I said, “Until I saw this information in the story, I can’t say that I had any such ideas. But now, yes, I think this is a truth.”

“You know how tarot cards unveils truth depending on the way the cards fall?” he asked. “Perhaps just such an auspicious falling of words on your screen is unfolding the same way.”

For just such moments of clear connection with my higher self as the writing of Sacred Vow, I gladly pay the cost of the once seemingly endless attempts to connect with my unique path and intuitive voice.

Copyright 2007 CG Walters

This is my truth. Only you can determine if there is any value in it for you.
 

 

 

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

 

Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version

 

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Serialization of Sacred Vow: Searching

photo by h.koppdelaney

The most significant event of your life calls to you, from barely beyond your perception…both imminent and impossible… a call of the heart, of the spirit, and of yourself to which you have not yet been introduced.

Sacred Vow is visionary fiction of a journey toward our one true love…in its infinite expressions…bringing together two individuals from disparate realities—but one spirit—to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness…a breach that threatens us all.

Sacred Vow is a metaphysical novel about a man who responds to the mysterious call of a woman, opening the way to redefinition of both himself and his understanding of the world around him. He takes his first steps on a journey to accept the world around him as a place to live, not simply a place to survive day-to-day. Sacred Vow is both a narrative and the means for the author to communicate a positive message about life and fully integrating the most into each moment. Highly recommended—Midwest Book Review

Installment 2 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon’s Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

 

 

Searching

No longer confined to material experience, Katerina crossed into the dimly lit room, invisible to its inhabitants. She had never visited this world before, never laid eyes on this person, yet Katerina’s bond to the lean, gray-haired man seated at the wooden table was so intense and immediate that she barely managed to suppress the impulse to reach out and embrace him.

He rested a forearm on either side of the tattered book at which he stared, completely absorbed. In a few moments, he began to read aloud to himself, in a gentle voice.

“So long have we been sharing our experience, our becoming, that it no longer makes sense to imagine such a thing as either of us wholly divisible from the other . . . if it ever did make sense.”

Slowly he sat upright, eyes staring in Katerina’s direction, though completely unaware of her, staring through her formless presence and beyond her. A smile spread over his weathered face. Mesmerized, Katerina watched the man’s bright eyes as he began to move his head to the left. The moment his attention came to rest, an undeniable serenity radiated from his face, drawing Katerina to turn and seek out its inspiration.

He was looking into the face of a woman sitting in a large, upholstered chair, motionless, silent, and eyes closed. Upon first recognition of that face, Katerina’s intimacy with it involuntarily pulled her nearer. It was her own face on which Katerina was gazing, many years older, but indisputably her face. Katerina wanted to linger and rest her spirit, weary from all the traveling today, to just take in the simplicity of their life together in this place. But she knew that would be unwise.

Though only an observer, Katerina felt herself beginning to fuse into this life, making it her own. And this reality was progressively laying claim to her. Synthesis into the visited environment was a known problem with this manner of searching. She had been cautioned against becoming too tired and being seduced into idling.

She took one last look at her partner in this alternate life—at the partner of this parallel self. Katerina forced herself to continue the search elsewhere. This man was surely a manifestation of the one she sought, but this was not “him.”

Then she released her hold on this life. The tangibility of another facet of reality dissolved around her, as it had so many times before that day.

When letting go of a visited life, Katerina often had a sense of rapid movement—somewhat unnerving. It was similar to the dream sensation of falling when on the brink of sleep. Except this movement went in all directions simultaneously, including inward.

As Katerina removed herself from this life of hers, she retained traces of it. Though she had visited the place for only moments, that reality had been thoroughly integrated into Katerina’s definition of self, her emotions, and her mind. The same thing had happened with each parallel life that she had visited today. The resulting assimilation of parallel self-definitions was proving to be the hardest part of this task. Katerina could feel something similar to layers of simultaneous lifetime awarenesses building within her consciousness. With each new layer, Katerina’s definition-of-self expanded, but the primary identity receded a little. The more the tether to her prime personality weakened, the more dangerous the next visit became.

These dangers to the visitant were why this ritual was so rarely performed. Only by forcing acknowledgment of her exceptional skills had Katerina been able to persuade The Nine to consent to, and assist in, her searches. With each passing in and out of these parallel lives, Katerina became progressively more understanding of the Crones’ concerns.

 

Good fortune and bad awaited Katerina at the next location she tried to visit. For whatever reason, she was blocked from entering the environment. This meant the spirit of the very person she had come to visit denied her access—so she had been taught. The barrier was good because of the respite it afforded her, even momentarily. It was bad because this failed attempt was an opportunity lost and she had no time to waste. Katerina could feel her subconscious becoming overwhelmed. She would have to abandon the search very soon.

As though she had been slammed into a wall, Katerina rebounded. With no time to prepare, she entered into another parallel life. The quickness of the transfer had a severe impact on her already depleted energies.

Hazy images began to take form before her eyes. As in every other visit today, what Katerina saw and felt was as real to her as the life in the world of her physical form. These people, her lives in parallel realities, always existed right before her eyes. They were as real as any member of her order that she interacted with day in and day out. In this process, Katerina merely opened her awareness to the otherwise unacknowledged doorway between the infinite realities.

Memories that were hidden from her a moment before—memories belonging exclusively to this parallel life—began to introduce themselves into her consciousness. A flood of previously inaccessible senses, personal to this life, began to send their messages to her brain. Emotions without history for the traveling Katerina of a moment before began to structure in her mind the network of associations that gave them consequence. It was becoming almost impossible to fully open herself to yet another mind, another life, and still retain her distinction from them.

“Maintain the focus,” she reminded herself. “Where is the Union?”

Psychically, she searched the structure in which she stood for evidence of his presence. She knew he had been in this room only a moment before. Scanning one room after another with her mind, her senses met him returning up the stairs from a lower floor.

Perceptive of subtle energies, he stopped, and turned his head as if trying to catch the sound or sight that had fleetingly stirred his attention. Though her presence was centered in another room, Katerina held her mental focus on him, just outside of his range of perception. There was something very special about this one, and she took time to enjoy that uniqueness.

But he is not the Union, her mind cried out.

“Suen?” he called.

“What is it, Yeetar?” his partner replied from a room at the back of the top floor.

Yeetar looked around, curious. It was obvious that he had perceived an unfamiliar intrusion into his world. He seemed to be reaching out with something more than his five senses, trying to locate her. So Katerina cautiously began to withdraw her presence.

Significant, she thought. But, still not the Union.

Katerina heard Yeetar reply, uncertainly, “Nothing, Suen,” as the last of Katerina’s foreign essence departed from his world.

Katerina knew she could not attempt another visit. Her need to return to the Motherworld was too great. As soon as she pulled herself back into the mortal form that was her own, every member of The Nine instantaneously received her request for termination of the rite. The gurgling song of streams that surrounded the circle of Crones aided her return. Though Katerina felt her spirit fully identify with the body of her home reality, her mind was overwhelmed with the competing identities she had integrated into her awareness during the searches. Still in the seated meditation posture, Katerina slumped forward, reaching her hands to the ground for reconnection, pressing her palms to the soft, living moss that covered the ground below her. Her breathing was deep and slow. With each inhalation, the scent of the evergreen forest strengthened her connection to this place, her primary home.

Surges of energy began to run through her muscles, making them twitch. Katerina strove to suppress these involuntary movements. Undoubtedly, out of need for its own survival, Katerina’s conscious mind was feverishly sweeping through the queue of her recent experiences and vanquishing all contending identities to the subdued recesses of her subconscious.

Katerina had no way of telling how long the hand had been on her shoulder. Still unable to withdraw her concentration from the processes of recovery, she wasn’t yet able to perceive whose hand it was. A minute later, unaware of who stood above her, Katerina began to realize that sympathetic energy flowed into her through the supportive hand, assisting Katerina in her efforts to integrate.

She had not wanted anyone to know how much impact the ceremony had had on her. She had been bold in her claims of being able to handle the process.

“You have done well, dear heart, and we are glad you are back with us.”

Katerina knew the voice. Head hanging down, eyes still closed, her sensory perception becoming exclusive to the world of her body, she replied, “I could not find him, Holiness. So many manifestations of him, but none of them were the Union.”

“That is both auspicious and unfortunate. With so many connections, the bond between you and him is exceptionally strong. It does, however, complicate finding the appropriate manifestation when seeking him without some assistance on his part.

“You have been remarkable in your effort, Katerina. No one would have asked so much of you. Care for yourself now, my child. This is a demanding task that you have undertaken.”

“I am certain something is not as we expect this time,” Katerina said.

“We may not understand why things are proceeding as they are, Katerina, but the Collective Consciousness cannot be wrong. We must carry out our practice as it has been handed down to us. The method has always served the need, and will again . . . in its own time.”

“Yes, Mother. But when I received the visions, it seemed he was not within an order. Is it possible?”

“The images you saw must be coincidental, not indicative of his full person, Katerina.”

“How can he refrain from replying?” Katerina asked, finally regaining enough strength to rise to her feet, though slowly. “Perhaps he cannot, or does not understand the Call.”

The old Matriarch wrapped an arm around Katerina’s back and helped the younger woman to steady her wobbly legs. Katerinalooked into the concerned, almost teary eyes of her superior and said, “I truly feel that something is unique to this occurrence of the rift.”

“I know you do, and I respect that belief. But you must accept that no matter the situation, it is perfection, as it has always been.”

A tear rolled down the wrinkled cheek before the elder continued.

“I would not have had you suffer this burden, Katerina, if I had such power to decide. And I must accept that this charge is yours to bear, in your own way.”

Despite the Matriarch’s compassionate tone, Katerina took her words as a reprimand.

“I will not fail my duties. Until I find the Union, I will search without cease.”

Rubbing Katerina’s back, the old woman said, “You have always surpassed your duties, dear girl, and are doing so now. You will not fail, cannot fail. It is we who must not fail you.”

 

Continued next week, Tea Ceremony

 

copyright 2006 CG Walters

 

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase as ebook or from Amazon as Kindle version or printed copy

Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, Gaia, Myspace, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Prologue

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Prologue

photo by by h.koppdelaney

 

 This is the introduction chapter from the novel, Sacred Vow (Dragon’s Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).  

Over the next couple of months, three times per week I intend to serialize installments of the first 15 chapters of Sacred Vow. For those of you who have already read Sacred Vow, I beg your patience, and welcome any comments that you remember from when you read the chapter.

For those of you who have not read Sacred Vow, may it bring you many blessings. And, please comment if you are so moved.
 
Intro
There is a rift in the Collective Consciousness of the Universe because people are not bonding one to another. The primary female character, Katerina, lives in another dimension, in a culture structured around the Sisterhood of Crones (a description of the order, not their name–as their name is without word). The Sisterhood are about to perform a ritual to allow Katerina to rapidly visit a multitude of worlds and dimensions, searching for her spirit mate (soulmate or twin flame). The Sisterhood has become aware that the connection between Katerina and her spirit mate is vital to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness.
 
 
Prologue

Choice of the ritual location was dictated by nature just days before. Hundreds of people had roamed hill and field, dowsing for the place possessing the energy necessary for their purpose. The intended process could not take place on one of their customary ceremonial sites, but only the spot identified as radiating the strongest flow of earth energy at the anticipated time of the rite.
 
Three ley lines, channels of the land’s energy, crossed a wooded hillside in a small patch of flat ground. Two ancient hardwood trees, one standing on either side of the rear of the opening, leaned forward before the rocky slope that bordered the backside of the level area. Their leaves filtered what little light could make its way from above.
 
Between the trees, at the base of the slope, there was a large greenish-gray stone. Its jagged face rose some twenty feet in the air. Three small streams, swollen with recent rains, flowed down the slope, marking the perimeter of the flat plot of land in front of the stone, before converging and flowing downward over a small waterfall. The stream-encircled ground was carpeted with a thick, soft moss.
 
Once the location had been identified and verified, the holy women who would use that place and its energy consecrated it. On the appointed evening, shortly after midnight, a ceremonial procession of The Nine—which consisted of the Crone Mother, leader of their mystic order, and eight more of the wisest women of their society—Katerina, understudy to the Crone Mother, and their considerable entourage made their way to the location. For several hours, from their village to the south, those who remained behind could see the winding line of torches, and hear the repetitive chants as the group made their way to the anointed site.
 
Once the group arrived, still in the dark of the night, attendants placed torches around the perimeter of the chosen site. Then they spread seating mats in a large circle on the ground for those who would perform the ritual, with the Crone Mother’s back to the large boulder at the head of the flat ground. Katerina took her position, in the center of the circle, facing the Crone Mother. Once the members of the ceremony were seated, their retinue withdrew some distance from the site, in order not to disrupt the proceedings.
 
A time of silence then passed among those women remaining on the holy site, Katerina and The Nine. When no more sound of those traveling back down the hill could be heard, The Nine began a unified chant. Katerina remained silent, yielding to the trance induced by their voices. As planned, the light of dawn had just begun to make its way through the canopy of leaves.
 
Within a very short time, the chanting ended, but Katerina was not aware of the change. Where she had gone, The Nine could not follow, could not see what Katerina saw. Their task was now to assist Katerina in a search through her parallel lives, and to wait until she chose to return.
 
Hours passed as Katerina moved through the many complementary realities surrounding her—now made apparent to her by this expanded awareness—searching more than any of The Nine had anticipated as possible. The light of dawn, noon, and now late evening had filtered through the tree cover above the seated women.
 
Despite her travels, Katerina remained attuned to every mind and spirit involved in the ritual. She was well aware that several of the wise ones had long been wishing for her to conclude her efforts, worried not for themselves but for Katerina and the conceivable limits of her stamina. Katerina knew they would stay with her as long as she could convey assurance that she was not in any danger.
 
Being surrounded by the Council of Nine evoked such power and information that it was almost too much for her mortal body to endure. Each of The Nine was unequaled in her individual expertise. And all that power was being focused into a narrow beam, directly at Katerina. Fortunately, the most illuminated teachers in their culture had trained Katerina all her life for such a passage.
 
The collective life force of The Nine permeated every cell of Katerina’s body, which resonated with an enhanced energy, supporting and shielding her from much of the impact of her transitions. Alone, she would not have been able to investigate so much, so quickly. Conversely, being assailed by their concentrated radiance was having a brutal impact on her physical form.
 
Katerina was always able to enter her parallel lives without the help of The Nine. In fact, she had entered into many parallel lives since being made aware of “him” a few months ago. In those unassisted visits, she could visit only one location per session, and then had to return home, resting for some extended period before traveling again. That process had proven to take far too long. It did, however, have its benefits.
 
Returning home between visits was necessary for Katerina’s mind and spirit to filter the visited life back into the generally unperceivable background of her unconscious mind. Interim filtering wasn’t happening today. This ritual was allowing Katerina to open up to alternate lives, giving each life predominance in her consciousness, just long enough to allow her to seek out what she needed to know, and then pull away from that place. Full disconnection from these lives would have to take place when she finally returned home at the end of the ritual. Today she pushed herself forward as she never had before. More than just her life and her world depended on the outcome.

Continued next, Searching
 
 copyright 2006 CG Walters

 

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version

Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, Gaia, Myspace, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg