Category Archives: love

CelebraZine 18Feb09

To find your own way is to follow your bliss. This involves analysis, watching yourself and seeing where real deep bliss is — not the quick little excitement , but the real deep, life-filling bliss. –Joseph Campbell

photo by h.koppdelaney

Jenny Mannion presents Practicing Balance in Your Life at Heal Pain Naturally.

I make sure when I am spending time with a loved one I am spending conscious time with them.

O, happy the soul that saw its own faults.Mevlana Rumi

Just a little fairytale… by Gerbren!

A dear soul, and cherished friend, Carolyn Hamme Allen sent me this one, Married 84 years, and still loving

He still looks at her with love and concern, as she looks toward him as if he will give her strength and guidance

John Wolfe presents Granting Yourself Permission at Wind of the Soul

If we aren’t granting ourselves permission to explore our true nature, then the majority of our relationships are built on false pretenses

Not every message of Spirit is in a ‘rarefied’ form. Nothing is outside of Spirit, and Spirit will bring its message to the surface in whatever place is most conducive to promote the message—sometimes in surprising forms.I encountered this song and was taken by the pop presentation of Joseph Campbell’s “Follow your Bliss.”

Selena presents TELL ME SOMETHING on YouTube.

Many thanks to those featured today, for the work they do to better our world!!!

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.

Celebrate yourself!

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your submissionwhether you created it or found it–(containing  text, image, video, and audio, poetry, quotes, etc.) anytime for the daily installments of CelebraZine, a ‘running blog carnival’ of self improvement by focusing on What’s Right in the World.

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives. Autographed/signed copies of his current novel, Sacred Vow, are available from the author– or purchase from Amazon as ebook, paperback, or Kin


CelebraZine 13Feb09

When the power of love overcomes the love of power,

the world will know peace.Jimi Hendrix

(from from Lance

Bus Stop Kiss by h.koppdelaney

richard power presents Imagine Peace, Cultivate Happiness at

Happiness is very serious business,” Bhutan Prime Minister Jigme Thinley said.

Jenny Mannion presents I took the Vow of Non Violence, will you? posted at Heal Pain Naturally.

I will “Appreciate EVERY Moment — NOT JUST the GOOD Ones” remaining conscious if strong negative thoughts/emotions come up about anyone or any situation.

Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary,

is it true, does it improve on the silence? –Sai Baba

the messenger by  alicepopkorn

Anna Hummingbird presents Why is there beauty? at HummingBird

What is your perspective on both question and answer?

Nicholas Powiull presents How to Vibrate at the Same Frequency of ANY Desire posted at Conscious Flex.

Everything has a vibrating energy field and behind the field is pure energy. This pure energy has a source that is found within everything throughout the universe.

-= river of dream =- by Bram & Vera

The only thing we need more than    dependability in a friend is to be needed.

The only thing we need more than love is    to be able to express our love for another.–Strike a Chord of Silence

Many thanks to those featured today, for the work they do to better our world!!!

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.

Celebrate yourself!

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your submission –whether you created it or found it–(containing  text, image, video, and audio, poetry, quotes, etc.) anytime for the daily installments of CelebraZine, a ‘running blog carnival’ of self improvement by focusing on What’s Right in the World.

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives. Autographed/signed copies of his current novel, Sacred Vow, are available from the author– or purchase from Amazon as ebook, paperback, or Kindle version

Loving Couples

They do not love that do not show their love.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

Love is a familiar. Love is a devil.

There is no evil angel but Love. —William Shakespeare

Loving Couple by wallyg

I find this quote from Joseph Campbell’sHero with a Thousand Faces” to be a wonderful description/instruction for a successful marriage of yin and yang, or lover and beloved. Keep in mind we are talking mythology, metaphorical embodiment of higher concepts.

If the wording presents a problem, replace the word ‘woman’ with the the concept of the feminine, the yin, and replace masculine phrases with yang.

“Woman, in the picture language of  mythology, represents the totality of what can be known. The hero is the one who comes to know. As he progresses in the slow initiation which is life, the form of the goddess undergoes for him a series of transfigurations: she can never be greater than himself, though she can always promise more than he is yet capable of comprehending. She lures, she guides, she bids him burst his fetters. And if he can match her import, the two, the knower and the known, will be released from every limitation. Woman is the guide to the  sublime acme of sensuous adventure. By deficient eyes she is reduced to inferior states; by the evil eye of ignorance she is spellbound to banality and ugliness. The hero who can take her as she is, without undue connection but with the kindness and assurance she  requires is potentially the king, the incarnate god, of her created world.”

Blessings and a joyous heart brimming with love to you all…


Serialization of Sacred Vow: Woodland Soup

photo by Ruthieki

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

Woodland Soup

The next thing Ian knew, he was propped against the arm of the couch with pillows behind him. He was covered with a sheet and blanket, and there was an aroma of lentil soup in the room. He was so weak he had to struggle just to open his eyes. Once he had them open, he couldn’t focus well enough to see. The most he could make out was the shadowy shape of a person in front of him.

“Welcome back, Ian.” It was Djalma’s voice. “Yes, you’re still in your house. I apologize for intruding.”

To Ian’s knowledge, Djalma didn’t have a car. How could he have managed the four-hour trip? Even more confusing, how did he get into the house?

“Not to worry. I didn’t break anything getting in.”

This was Djalma all right. Ian didn’t really care if anything had been broken. However he had entered, Ian was grateful for it. He wanted to thank Djalma but didn’t have the strength to speak. Right now, remaining conscious was all he could manage.

“I’ve been able to get you to drink some juice and water, but you haven’t been eating,” Djalma said.

Ian had no memory of drinking.

“It’s been a couple of days since your return. Maybe you could eat something now,” Djalma said. “I brought you some of my special woodland soup, gathered on one of my hikes just before I left home—Remember? I was making some on your first visit.” He laughed. “Just kidding. It’s regular soup.”

Ian could smell the spoon of soup below his nose.

Djalma coached him. “Try to open your mouth, buddy. You can’t heal without nutrition.”

A very little soup was all Ian could manage to eat. It seemed like only a few minutes passed, and yet he must have slept, as he was waking up again.

Djalma had pulled the desk chair beside the couch and was sitting there reading poetry out loud. The poem was referring to the mist and the mountains. It sounded like Taoist poetry.

When he saw that Ian was awake again, Djalma stopped reading and said, “Welcome home again.”

Ian could focus a little better than before. It was good to see Djalma’s smile. He tried to thank his friend once more, but abandoned it for a mere, “hello.” Even that sounded feeble.

“Is there anything I can get you, Ian?”

Ian’s reply of “woodland soup” was almost unintelligible, but Djalma laughed and patted his arm. He was back in just a minute. Ian suspected the soup was already on the stove, as he heard no sound from the microwave.

Ian sat up and fed himself a little. The effort of doing so hurt immensely, and he quickly lost the ability to use his arm. He didn’t mention this, but Djalma must have realized what was going on and began to help Ian with the soup.

Needing the assistance of a young man to feed him was humbling. It was not quite so humbling, however, as the affliction that had brought Ian to need the assistance.

For the next few days, Djalma made sure Ian had food and water. He did the laundry, kept him company, and helped him hobble back and forth to the bathroom. Ian was grateful for the company and the help.

Knowing that Djalma had to help him out of a mess only because he had ignored his advice shamed Ian considerably. Whenever he tried to apologize, though, Djalma cut him off and asked to be repaid with a promise of full recovery.

Until Ian was able to maintain consciousness long enough to carry on conversation, Djalma entertained them with reading poetry and philosophy aloud. Some of the books, he had brought. While waking to some of Djalma’s readings, Ian was reminded of items from his own shelves that had not been read in some time.

Several days later, Ian finally became cognizant enough to realize he had been out of work without explanation. When he tried to get up for the phone, Djalma explained that he had already told Ian’s manager that Ian had a severe virus and might need a couple of weeks to recuperate.

For some reason, Ian found that bit of magic a little harder to believe than most. Work was something he had never spoken to Djalma about. It was hard to accept that Djalma’s little inexplicable feats could have made their way into the stiflingly rational world of software. The doubt must have been apparent in Ian’s face. Djalma smiled and nodded.

“No big deal. You are very organized. The personal phone book under the phone has your manager’s name and numbers.”

Even so, Ian knew his manager’s name wasn’t listed under “I” or “M,” for “Ian’s Manager.” Who cares? he thought. By the time he considered the possible ways Djalma could have found the information, his interest in the subject was exhausted.

In another day or so, Ian was still too sluggish to function well at work, but he could have managed well enough at home. Ian was certain that Djalma stayed partially to make sure there wasn’t another rushed journey back to Katerina—and partially just as a good friend, visiting. Ian thought of telling Djalma he could go back to the mountains—but he didn’t know how his friend would get there—and besides, he was enjoying the company.

Card games passed the time. Some of the games Djalma knew; some of them Ian knew. Djalma’s poetry readings revived Ian’s interests and he in turn shared some of his own favorites, such as Emily Dickinson’s “Much madness makes divinest sense,” and pieces from a locally published collection called, Strike a Chord of Silence. Ian came to enjoy the Taoist poetry that Djalma introduced him to. The poets’ uncomplicated attention to nature, along with the accompanying ink drawings in one of the books, made Ian think of Katerina.

When Ian felt up to it, he told Djalma the story of his last visit—which had put him in the state in which his friend had found him. It was a way of thanking Djalma for his care.

“Thank you for making sure I knew to look for the reason Katerina and I were in contact with each other,” Ian started.

Djalma looked up from his book and smiled. “So, you know what that is now?”

“I think I have a starting point. And that bit of information probably saved my life. How did you know it would be so important?”

“I didn’t know,” Djalma replied. “The suggestion was based on pure intuition. I knew how remarkable what you were experiencing was, the reality expansions. It’s barely possible that one might encounter a sequence of random contacts over a very achieved lifetime, but this has been a repeating communication with a specific person. And if the contact isn’t random, I speculated there would have to be some powerful initiator to make such a thing come to pass.”

Djalma paused for a moment and then laughed to himself. “Most of all, I was making my suggestion out of a blind emotion. You could say I was being a mother hen.”

“Whatever your reason, Djalma, I don’t think I would be here if not for your insistence to repeat the Vow if I got lost. I am sure it allowed Katerina to help me out of a terrible situation.”

Sitting forward on the edge of his chair, Djalma laid the book on the table to his side. “Really, now? How did she help? I imagined that the only threat you might run into was the physical drain from visiting too frequently.

Ian tried to get off the couch alone. His body forced him to reconsider just what was involved in jumping from one reality to another. Ever since he ceased to be bonded to someone else’s body when in a parallel life, most of the impact on Ian seemed to be mental or emotional. His experience in the void showed that if he mishandled the gift of reality shifting it could cost him his life.

Djalma was up and offering assistance. “No need to rush yourself.”

“I was just going to get a piece of paper.” Ian settled back onto the couch but remained upright. He pointed over to a stack of books to one side of the room. “Could you please? There is a piece of paper inside the flap of that top book. Have a look at it.”

Opening the book, Djalma stared down at the inside flap for a while.

“Read it, please,” Ian said.

As Djalma read aloud, Ian recited along.

Both fell silent before finishing the Vow—as if simultaneously realizing that it was something not to be recited without specific intention.

Djalma asked, “This is the Sacred Vow?”

“Yes. And I think it has something to do with the immediate reason that Katerina and I are in communication. It seems we have made a very strong commitment to each other. I am certain that quoting this verse allowed Katerina to pull me out of a disaster during my last journey.”

“Would you like some tea, Ian?” Djalma started to walk to the kitchen.

Ian was surprised at Djalma’s subdued response. Ian thought the story he was about to tell was something remarkable.

Djalma called back from the doorway, “I assume you’ll need some food and drink while you fill me in on the gaping holes in your story.”

While Djalma made tea, Ian managed to get up and move about. It was an odd pain that he had, mostly internal, like that poison he’d felt in the dark days before Djalma had given him the token. Every part of Ian’s body hurt, but he was much improved from when he first returned from that last visit—Ian suddenly thought about Katerina and her baby. Why couldn’t he have helped her?

Ian stood motionless, lost in his memory until Djalma returned with tea and food, and broke into his thoughts.

“So your recent visit was something troublesome?” Djalma asked.

Ian moved slowly toward the couch. “Yes I had a visit with a manifestation of Katerina with a baby. It was really painful. Someone was taking the baby away from her.”

Just recalling it drew Ian’s consciousness back to that place. “I couldn’t help her, and I was getting angry and panicked. I think my strong emotions about the situation eventually forced me out of that alternate life.”

Djalma seemed to have some idea why Ian was stumbling over his words. “You’re not completely disengaged from that place yet, are you?”

The question didn’t make much sense to Ian. He took the residual emotions that he felt to be no more than anyone else would feel after a traumatic experience. Of course he would never be the same afterwards! He had been utterly useless in saving someone he cared about from harm. More than someone he cared about! Someone he was deeply connected to.

“Please tell me how the visit ended, Ian.”

“I could do nothing but watch as they took the baby from her. Katerina was suffering greatly.”

Djalma was very patient. He seemed to have some idea of his friend’s need to take time going through his recounting of the event.

“My rage became so intense,” Ian said, “that I found myself back on this couch just when Katerina was about to be harmed. I got bounced out of that reality. One moment I was struggling to help her and the next, I could only see the light of my study coming through my eyes.

“The return was painful, as though I physically collided with this location, and sort of rebounded, feeling not quite in this world, not fully out of it.”

Ian became silent periodically. At each delay, Djalma would wait for a time and then call on Ian to continue. It was a good thing, because otherwise, Ian would become completely mired in the memory of that moment.

“I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I had an unfamiliar sensory experience. Instinct told me that this particular sensation was the doorway back to the place I had just left. I felt like I was still in the recoil of the returning bounce, and so I directed all my attention and emotion at the doorway.”

Djalma cringed and ducked his head.

“Yes. You know what happened then,” Ian continued. “You told me not to rush the time between trips, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I was certain that if I could make the instant return, I would be able to handle the result.”

“Did you make it back?” Djalma asked.

Remembering the place where he landed made Ian flinch. “I didn’t see the woman again.” Before continuing, he took a moment to mourn her misery silently.

Ian was realizing how entangled he remained with the alternate existence he actually visited—Djalma was absolutely right—he now saw that he had still not disengaged from the world of the suffering Katerina and child. There was something cathartic about exposing the experience to his conscious mind, and speaking about it. But separating from her was saddening. Now, he felt he was leaving her truly alone and abandoned.

“I feel certain that you’re only a spectator in their worlds, Ian. You cannot affect what is already the reality there.”

Recalling some of his own speculations he was left with over the last few visits, Ian stopped Djalma. “I’m not so sure of that any more, my friend, but let’s talk about that later.

Djalma handed Ian a bowl of hot soup and placed a cup of tea on the table by the couch. They ate quietly.

After he finished his soup, Ian tried to continue with the story. “When I tried to return to Katerina and the child, I got into some kind of in-between realm. There was no light, and it drained any energy out of me that I called up. I had to hold my emotions in check. Every time I allowed myself any emotion, it felt like part of my physical body was being literally torn away.”

As he spoke, Ian reflexively raised his voice and said, “Damn, that hurt!”

Djalma recoiled at the loudness of Ian’s voice.

Ian didn’t say anything more for a while.

After some time passed, Djalma asked, “Are you all right?”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry, I was just remembering,” Ian said. “Not good. I felt like I was dying in that dark place, being drained of my life energy. I was stuck in some kind of void. Then I decided to gamble that you were right about focusing on the Sacred Vow if I got into trouble. I directed all the energy I had left at it.”

Djalma smiled. “That was a pretty big chance to take.”

“Not really,” Ian replied. “I didn’t have any other option.”

“Do you think repeating the verse was what got you free from the void?” Djalma asked.

“I think it made the Katerina of my tea visions hear me. Before I found myself back here and passed out, I was in her house. She fanned some smoky concoction over me. Then she told me to go home and come back when I was rested.

“The next thing I knew, I was on the couch, in great pain, and losing consciousness. After that, you were here.”

Sitting back and drawing a big breath like a kid at the end of a grand adventure story, Djalma said, “It sounds as if Katerina is the one you should thank. Not me.”

“Oh, I thank you as well,” Ian assured him. “But I am grateful to her. I thank her for so much more than just getting me back home. I wish I could get back to her, to tell her so. But I have no control over my destinations.”

Djalma made a funny little sideways motion with his head as if he were about to do something that he was trying to resist. “I may regret this,” he said. “But I know it means too much to you not to mention it, if I think this is a possibility.”

He had Ian’s attention. “What have you got, old man?” Realizing what he’d said, Ian wondered what was it about Djalma that made him seem like an aged familiar despite his youth?

“You may not have navigational control—”

Djalma paused as a tease, and it worked. Ian became fully alert, certain that Djalma was about to offer the treasure that he had been fruitlessly searching for.

“But it seems Katerina is able to help you.” Djalma grinned and sat back in his chair.

“Come on now,” Ian pleaded. “How is she going to help? If there is a choice, I will gladly return to the Katerina of the tea visits each time!”

“The verse,” Djalma said. “That verse must be something that you and she can use to contact each other. You repeated the verse over and over when in the void, and she brought you out of it, directly to her. Maybe, just maybe, if you enter a meditation while repeating the verse, like a mantra, she can hone in on you and guide you to her location.”

“All right!” Ian attempted to spring up from the couch. “Ooooh!” As pain hit him, he collapsed into a hobble. Eventually his movement smoothed into something of a walk.

“I think that might be it, Djalma. I won’t have to fall into those random lives, suffering along with unhappy, unknowing versions of our existences together.”

“Don’t be careless and make me regret telling you,” Djalma said. “It’s only speculation. It’s also possible your return to Katerina is not something that can be repeated.”

Still walking somewhat clumsily around the room, Ian shook his head. “No, what you said about the verse rings true with me. I might have needed you to bring it to my attention, but now that I’ve heard the words, I feel its truth, deep within myself.

“I have to tell you, a few more visits as unhappy as the last handful, and I don’t know that I could keep taking those trips. I’m certain Katerina and I need to be in touch with each other, but I don’t believe the random locations are beneficial. In fact those interactions may be causing some harm.

“If Katerina and I can work to help each other, I’m sure we will be able to achieve our purpose—whatever it is.”

Djalma picked up his book and went back to reading. Ian was concentrating on exercising his weak muscles. “One thing you’ll need to consider,” Djalma added. “Even if Katerina can consistently bring you back to her location, there’s some reason she did not attempt to heal you after you were retrieved from the void.”

Ian slowed down and stared at Djalma skeptically. He was about to take offense at Djalma’s speculation.

“Don’t you think she would have mended your damage if it was possible?” Djalma said. “Even though you two can communicate, you still exist in completely separate primary realities. Katerina may have sent you home because it was impossible to make you well in her home world.”

Ian started to drop some of his defensiveness. “So, what are you suggesting, Djalma?”

“Keep exercising. Eat well, friend. I’m sure Katerina will share what she can, but you’re going to have to attend to your own well-being.”

Ian picked up a pillow from a chair close by and threw it at Djalma. The effort was feeble, posing only a comic threat to Djalma. It fell to the floor well before his feet.

“You need more practice, Ian. Get to work.” Djalma laughed and returned his attention to his book.

Moving around the furniture, Ian said, “You’re a good friend, Djalma.”

Over the next week or so, Ian told Djalma about all his other journeys. The two friends speculated on what the experiences meant, and spent some time discussing unrelated philosophies and sharing their individual poetry favorites. Before long, Ian was able to move more naturally, and felt well enough to make some meals in gratitude for all the help he had been given.

As soon as he could, Ian drove Djalma back to the mountains. It turned out that Djalma didn’t have a vehicle—but did not say how he had traveled to Ian’s house. On the way home, Djalma asked Ian to stop at Liz’s place. She had a fine meal prepared for the three of them, and they spent a few contented hours together.

At Liz’s insistence, Ian spent the next few days with her. She didn’t really seem to care to hear about his adventures. Mostly, she and he spent leisure time enjoying each other’s company. The added stay was very beneficial to Ian. Exercise in the mountains, good food, and good company were returning Ian to prime health. The loving support of another dear friend did him more good than anything else could have.

Djalma didn’t come back around Liz’s house before Ian left. Ian wondered if all Djalma’s nursing efforts had worn him out. He pictured his friend roaming in the woods for a month before Liz would hear any more from him.

Thanking Liz and expressing his love for her as he left, Ian asked that she pass his affections to Djalma as well.

“I’ll be back in touch soon,” he said.

Liz smiled and went straight to the issue that had not been mentioned since he got to her house. “You have some visiting to get back to, don’t you, sweetie?”

“Yes, Liz. I’ll be smarter this time.”

“Katerina will be counting on that as well,” Liz said, as she waved and went back into the inn.

It was true. His friends had completely revitalized him, and Ian was eager to put their results to good use as soon as he got home. He didn’t mention it to Liz or Djalma, but he had taken additional leave from work, certain that he had more important business to finish.

copyright 2006 CG Walters

This is the Final Installment of the serialized portion of Sacred Vow —about mid-way through the novel…

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,


C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives. Autographed/signed copies of his current novel, Sacred Vow, are available from the author– or purchase from Amazon as ebook , paperback, or Kindle version

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One Who Knows

photo by h.koppdelaney

Sacred Vow is an interesting book of fiction about Ian, a well-read man in his early 50s who lives in New England. Divorced, he works in an office looking forward to his nightly cup of tea when he gets home. One particular evening, while relaxing in his study, he slips into a parallel universe where he meets a woman with whom he feels a strong connection. After this excursion into alternate time, Ian returns to his study and is perplexed and intrigued. He decides to attempt to recreate the experience. He returns to see the woman whom he eventually calls Katerina. The story proceeds as a mystery following the soul connection between Ian and Katerina. Ian is a likable man who truly loves and respects women. The story is well written and enticing as the facets of their connections unfold. I would definitely suggest adding this book to your fiction collection! —Susan LosCalzo, for New Age Retailer

Installment 16 of 22 Sacred  Vow (Dragon’s Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

One Who Knows

When he got back from work the next day, Ian was still charged from the  previous night’s experience, even though he had lost several hours of sleep to  it. Without brewing tea, he tried sitting in another meditation, hoping for an  additional visitation. He tried sitting in the study with the teapot, but with  no tea. Then he tried sitting without the teapot in the study. Unfortunately,  Ian was too energized to relax. Nothing happened.

Even knowing that it would further delay his getting any much-needed sleep, Ian  brewed a pot of tea and had a cup. He wanted to see Katerina right away. If a  few seconds with her, here in his study, were all he could have, Ian would be  glad for it.

What he really hoped for was to visit the Katerina of his tea visions. Since he  was able to hear Katerina in this other life perhaps that was an indication that  he would now be able to hear the Katerina he had been visiting for months, if he  could only get back there. Ian longed to share with her what he had discovered.

From the moment he had initially seen her, walking through the forest path in  their very first visit, Ian had been left with the unsettling conviction that  she and he shared more than just the ongoing exchanges that he was experiencing.  He had not been able, however, to find any rational justification for such  strong feelings. But after the vivid memories of the night before, Ian felt he  had seen pictures of a life that Katerina and he had lived together, or were  living together now, in some parallel existence.

With the night before, he had experienced some additional portion of their story  together. He had known her voice, her laugh, and her direct interaction with him  in that life. And he wondered how this previously unrealized parallel life had  subconsciously affected his experiences in his primary world.

Ian drank the tea, but he was disappointed. After taking his time enjoying two  more cups, he was even more awake and yet had no additional experience of  Katerina. Lingering in his recliner, he did not immediately notice when he  started to go through the memories of the evening before. Soon Ian questioned  why he was determined to have a new visit, since he was so blessed with a rich  memory that he could relive with such vivid detail and sensations. His  recollections of that experience were unlike any memories he had ever known  before. They were just as authentic as the original experience.

After a while, Ian got out a notebook and began writing down every detail he  could recall. The location of that new visualization was definitely not the  world of his consciousness, or in his time. He wanted to firm up all the details  in his mind. Perhaps he could find some answers to his recent experiences within  the memories of those few days. He wanted to be able to share what he had  experienced with his Katerina.

Again, he was late getting to sleep.

For the next several evenings, no visit occurred. Though short on sleep, Ian  continued to feel fully energized and happy. Night after night, until he had  gone carefully through the entire experience of that simultaneous life with  Katerina, he recalled an unbelievable amount of detail from that single visit.  He concluded that something had changed. He was no longer merely visiting  another reality, but actually living a portion of a parallel life. This had  obviously resulted in a change in him, right down to his definition of self.  Then it hit him.

“A change in me?”

From what Djalma told him, Ian realized that such a change could alter the  vibrational rate at which he resonated, change the signature of the study! He  had been so busy recounting his extended visitation with Katerina that he had  not worried himself about whether there was any significance in her recent  absence. Ian tried to reassure himself by recalling that in the early days she  had been gone for extended absences and there had been no reason for concern.  Maybe sleep deprivation had caught up with him, but he felt overwhelmed by  apprehension.

His first instinct was to immediately call Djalma and beg for help. But Ian felt  guilty for departing their meeting so hastily and not keeping Djalma informed.  Besides, Ian couldn’t just call him. He would have to call Liz and ask her to  hike up to Djalma’s forest home. Although she tramped through the woods quite  regularly, Ian was not willing to ask her to do so at his request.

The next thing Ian knew, he was drowsily responding to the alarm clock. He’d  finally slept, but apparently not for very long. He woke, exhausted.

Later that day at work, Ian’s anxiety about losing contact with Katerina  overcame his reservations. He made the call to Liz. It was comforting just to  talk with her for a while. He asked her to ask Djalma to call him collect any  evening, whenever she next saw him. She agreed not to go looking for Djalma, but  would wait until he came for one of his frequent visits to her B&B.

Djalma called that night. Ian hoped the prompt response was due merely to his  good fortune, not to any extraordinary efforts on Liz’s part.

“I’m surprised to hear from you again so soon,” Djalma said with a pointed but  friendly irony.

Ian apologized and groveled appropriately. “Oh, I know, Djalma. I’ve been  meaning to call. The charm you gave me worked so beautifully that I did not want  to trouble you. I really have to thank you. You knew what you were doing with  that.”

“Thank you,” Djalma said.

Ian paused for a moment. “I believe I have a related question.”

Then he told Djalma about the reality-transfer during meditation. He did not go  into details, just mentioned the fact the teapot had not been in the room, how  it had felt, and the impact the experience had had on him. Then Ian told how  since then he had achieved neither a new meditative transfer experience nor a  tea visit.

While he was relating his story, Djalma made no real response. He just made the  kind of slight diversionary sounds one might make when distractedly turning a  strange or unexpected idea over in his mind: “Uh-huh.” “Hm-m-m.” “Really?”

Ian assumed the limited responses meant Djalma was surprised. Ian had thought  the new kind of experience might have been caused by the token. This made Ian  wonder why he had assumed that all that happened was part of Djalma’s plan.

Ian concluded his story and said, “Maybe the token you gave me needs a new  charge.”

“I’m afraid it could never have been more than a temporary solution, Ian,”  Djalma replied. “It performed its only intended function. Your visits ceased to  pose any immediate threat to your health.

“You need to realize that the visits, in their previous form, may not be meant  to continue forever. It sounds as if you have moved into another phase.”

“Yes, the dearth stage. That’s what troubles me, Djalma.”

“I don’t think you realize the extent of what you’ve achieved, Ian. You removed  a distinct part of the portal, and yet it continues to function. Not only that,  you now have a degree of access beyond what the collective resonance of the  study gave you. You can hear the sounds of that place and seem to be somewhat  embodied within a physical form.

“This new development is almost unbelievable! I wish I could manage such an  experience.”

Initially, Ian swelled with pride. Seconds later, he deflated back to  humility—realizing he had no idea how his experience had been induced. Then he  sank to sheer terror. If he had no idea, and it had not been the specific result  of Djalma’s assistance, how would they know how or even if the portal would  function again?

“It’s only been a few days since your last visit,” Djalma continued. “It’s  possible that your nervous system can only take so much of such high-intensity  experiences. It’s quite probable this kind of a connection would be very  demanding on your spiritual energies. This was no ordinary visitation. I  wouldn’t push for the next journey too soon, Ian. You found your way there, and  it is likely you will do so again when you’re ready to handle it.”

Ian felt too anxious to adopt a wait-and-see approach. “Is it possible that my  reaction to the extended trip has changed me in such a way that Katerina and I  can no longer contact each other?”

“That is possible, Ian, but I think it unlikely. It’s too early to tell. We can  only wait and have faith that your inner intelligence knows what it’s doing, and  knows when you’ll be ready for more.”

“What about making the kind of counterbalance adjustment within me that you made  with the token? Wouldn’t that be a more direct solution?”

“Oh, no. Even if I were capable of such a thing, Ian, I wouldn’t do it.  Attempting to sculpt another’s energetic resonance would be a very dangerous  undertaking. Not only would such a reckless venture endanger your body, mind and  spirit, it could also harm me.”

“What about giving a new charge to the token?” Ian asked.

Gently but firmly, Djalma said, “You don’t understand the delicacy and potential  danger of what you’re suggesting. When we used the token, we weren’t in full  control of the result. It was a calculated gamble at best. I tried because you  were caught in a situation that was damaging you. The alteration seemed to be  the best of a number of possible choices, all of them questionable.

“This is an entirely different situation, despite what you may believe. Your  subconscious is in a recuperative phase. Whenever that recovery is complete, you  will probably return to Katerina. But this visit may have yet other new  aspects.”

Ian was frustrated by Djalma’s rational path. Djalma, however, had never given  Ian reason to doubt him or his wisdom. Until given reason to do otherwise, Ian  would trust him.

“Ian,” Djalma said. “I need to point out something that I know you know, but  seem to have momentarily lost track of. I have the terms to describe what is  going on. I have studied the relative theories, and even have the odd talent  that suggests possession of some superlative information. But you are the ‘one  who knows’ in this situation.

“I cannot do what you have done, nor have I ever done anything similar. You lack  the conscious understanding of what is going on and why. But your spirit knows.  Within you is all the information you will ever need.

“If you allow me, I can be a support to you. I can point you back to yourself  when you stray. But that’s all I can do.”

Djalma went silent.

For the first time since he had given Djalma the position of acting as his  personal source of wisdom, Ian was forced to return to the place of his own  insight. It was both powerful and painful to retake control of his direction. He  too became quiet, trying to reclaim the energy, the will, to take charge. Ian  accepted that what had begun as his respite from this responsibility had gotten  out of hand.

After a few moments, Ian remembered Djalma’s offer of assistance. He was not  alone, and for that Ian was genuinely grateful.

“Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness, Djalma?”

“Call Liz and leave me a message—better yet, come by—after you see Katerina  next. I would really like to see you again.”

Ian was both surprised and comforted.

Djalma finished their conversation by saying, “Ian, I’m not trying to intrude,  but if I were you, when you see Katerina, I would not assume this new access  will remain open forever. You two are too intertwined to take these  opportunities casually. There is a purpose for this connection, and I would say  a very important purpose considering the energy it takes to overcome the  obstacles that generally disallow such cross-reality reunions.”

Continued next week, Sacred Vow

copyright 2006 CG Walters

For those who cannot wait to read Sacred  Vow over installments, I have a gift for you–the first 15 chapters online to be  read at your leisure!

This link is a listing the 1st 15 chapters on HarperCollins.London.

If you enjoy what you read, I’d ask a  favor in return; help me pursue a foreign rights publishing contract for Sacred  Vow.

Please register on the site  (create a profile on ), and  search for Sacred Vow. Once you have the page up with the Sacred Vow book cover,  notice that to the right of the page there is a column with several options, one  of which is “Back this book“,  please click that –this adds Sacred Vow to your bookshelf, used to determine  which books the editors will consider.—This  is not a purchase. Authonomy is  strictly a mechanism for selecting books for publishing within HarperCollins.

Please check your profile  page afterwards, ensuring that the Sacred Vow cover shows in your Bookshelf.

If you have time, make a  comment on Sacred Vow by going to this page
the comment box is below the book description.
I would love your input. Fiction is a  collective creation between reader and writer.

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,


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

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

Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader

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

Djalma (cont’d 3)

Mr. Walters conveys the reality of mystical worlds and our interaction with them very eloquently.  He states that there is “one true love in its infinite expression,” meaning there is one connection, above all others that can make us feel whole, like our full selves. This book is highly recommended for the reader seeking a love story that knows no limits. As a metaphysical novel, one can expand their views of worlds and civilizations existing with us, and how we may affect those close to us with or without our knowledge.

“Sacred Vow” is highly recommended, and a sequel would be much welcomed. —Catherine Phelps for Reader Views

Installment 14 of 22 of the serialization of Sacred Vow (Dragon’s Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Djalma (continued3)

It had been several months since the experience of the tense return from the visit with Katerina. Ian didn’t recall right away what had been going on at the time. As best he could remember, it was just like the months that had preceded it. He spent his days with computers at work, went out with friends, came home, and then did this all over again. Ian’s initial memories of those uneventful times were faint. He had been a little preoccupied with more recent concerns.

Trying to think what may have had a terrible effect on his paranormal teas, he tried to summon unpleasant memories.

Actually, Ian had to admit that things had been going particularly well through that period of life. Work, his friends, all seemed to be going through a positive phase. His time working and socializing had been carefree and happy.

Just as Ian was about to throw up his hands in defeat, he remembered a project member at work whom he’d found particularly irksome. It was not that the person ever did anything that truly warranted such feelings. This fellow was just one of those people whom Ian always felt conflict with, even when they agreed.

“I’ve got it. Dixon Peerit! For the whole time I worked with him, I felt a strange tension.”

“There is a way, Ian, to get a little better idea if your contact with this person had the type of consequence we’re looking for. It sounds like you’ve probably had a previous experience similar to what I’m suggesting. This is something like a guided meditation. It’s not hypnosis, just a method of relaxation to help you focus on a subject. It will allow me to get a feeling for your subconscious mind’s assessment of Dixon. So, if you’re willing, get comfortable and close your eyes.”

Certain they were on the verge of a solution, Ian closed his eyes without hesitation. “Ready.”

“Just relax,” Djalma said. “The first thing you have to do is to let go of all your conscious beliefs about what has caused a change in the visits.”

Djalma was silent, and Ian made every effort to let go of his hope that they were about to find the reason his visits had become distorted.

“Now, slowly, breathe deeply into your diaphragm, not your lungs. Hold that breath. Slowly, breathe out.”

After a few minutes of this, Djalma asked him to remember Dixon. Despite instructions, Ian had already been revving up this memory. In his mind, Dixon was inextricably guilty as the source of Ian’s misfortune.

Djalma peacefully coached Ian: “Bring up the memory of Dixon. Release any thought of him, but hold the image.

“Hold it. No thought, just hold the image.”

As soothing as Djalma’s voice and instructions were, Ian was ready to jump into action when Djalma said, “Okay, now let the image go, and we are going to come back to full awareness . . .

“Breathe deeply, and open your eyes when you are comfortable.”

Ian stared at Djalma, anxious to hear his conclusion.

“It’s not him,” Djalma said when he opened his eyes.

“Are you certain? That guy used to give me the worst feelings—”

Djalma cut him off. “And there might have been a good reason, but it seems as soon as he left your project, you were no longer concerned with him.”

True, Dixon had not crossed Ian’s mind since he was moved to another project area.

“You’re certain?” Ian was having a hard time letting go of his hope that the only unpleasantness he could recall during that time was the answer to the problem.

“I’m certain. Dixon did not have a lasting effect on your consciousness, and that would have been the only way another person could affect the journey through you. We’ll have to try again.”

Shaking his head, Ian said, “There’s nothing. It was a particularly good time in my life.”

“That does not preclude the type of effect we are looking for, Ian. You should also be trying to remember anything you found uncommonly pleasant or enjoyable during that time. It could be an impressive or exceptionally agreeable person whom you had just met, or a wonderfully satisfying experience that happened shortly before that time. It could even be new music you had just discovered, something that had an unusual impact.”

It seemed like an odd request. Look for the good as the root of the bad? Ian just sat there in disbelief.

After a few minutes he began searching for the best, not the worst, of his memories of that time a few months earlier.

“Of course, there are always new songs on the radio,” Ian offered.

“Any that you continued to listen to once they were not played on the radio or that changed your musical tastes?”

“No . . . there were movies that I saw and enjoyed, but none I’ve given much thought to since.”

They went through everything Ian had done for several months leading up to the first unpleasant experience. Ian was almost regretting that he had such a precise memory and that he had so many good things to remember. By the time Djalma was finished, Ian was beginning to grow weary of that stretch of time, which he had just remembered as so satisfying.

Djalma latched onto Ian’s mention of a fellow who was the team leader of the same project that he’d worked on with Dixon, Peter (pronounced Pay-ter) Rostich. Ian assured Djalma that was a dead end, but Djalma was having none of it. The more tribute Ian paid to Peter, the more adamant Djalma became.

Peter was one of those people everyone liked, a natural leader. He could get any member of his team to do just what he needed done. It seemed to be a talent that he had always had. No matter how much he asked of a person, that person felt it was no more than was reasonable, and Peter always showed his appreciation of his or her cooperation.

Even outside work, Peter was an exceptionally interesting individual. It seemed he must have begun to pursue his many interests when he was very young. He was musically talented, proficient in violin, piano, and several other instruments. Hanging from his office wall was evidence of considerable talent in acrylic painting, pen and ink, and digital art. He had used his very keen mind to become proficient in each media—and it seemed, many other accomplishments—one by one.

Peter loved his wife, adored his kids, and was dedicated to his community. Ian admired Peter’s way of looking at life; he believed Peter “had his heart in the right place.”

So Ian had to admit the positive experience of meeting Peter had stayed with him longer than his negative feelings about Dixon. One doesn’t meet such admirable people that often, he thought. But he could not imagine how that positive experience could have brought on such unpleasantness.

“Djalma, to be honest,” Ian finally said, “I don’t like the idea that something satisfying might set off dreadful experiences.”

Djalma’s look was disarmingly kind. “Peter didn’t cause the change. Bad results are not inherent in good things. Your experience is just the product of an accident. The energetic signature of your tea environment was perfect for the outcome you achieved and desired. Any significant alteration was going to make a change. It so happened that this time the resulting change was undesirable.

“Remember, few people, not even you in most cases, are likely to encounter such a doorway and generally have no need for concern. It was not meeting Peter that made the difference but rather his continued effect on you, your perceptions, and therefore your energetic signature. But this is assuming that Peter is the element we are looking for. If you’ll close your eyes and relax again, we’ll know soon enough.”

They went through the guided meditation process again. Several times Djalma asked Ian to hold onto the vision of Peter. Ian could not excite much faith in this pursuit, and the image faded. He was glad to have met such a person, glad there were people like Peter in the world, but Ian had no desire, then or before, to spend time visualizing Peter.

Finally, Djalma told Ian to release the image and come back to an alert state.

Ian sat silently this time, looking into Djalma’s eyes. Djalma had somewhat of a dazed look. For several minutes he just sat without speaking or blinking, barely breathing. When the trance broke, a smile spread over Djalma’s face, and he pulled from his pocket an ornate metal disk, about the size of a fifty-cent piece. He handed it to Ian, saying, “Take this into the room with you for your next tea.”

Ian turned the token over and over, enjoying the artwork of it, without making any comment or asking any questions. There was something innately reassuring about having the item in his palm. He could hear Djalma taking in one long, slow breath after another.

“Your response to Peter is what we were looking for. It had a positive impact on your spirit, but it also changed your vibration, and therefore it changed the portal for your reality shifts. I’m expecting the token to counterbalance that change.”

Ecstatic at the prospect, Ian rose immediately to his feet, almost knocking his head on the ledge of books above him. Clutching the token, which felt like his salvation, Ian hurriedly expressed his appreciation. “Thank you, Djalma. This is wonderful! Thank you, so much!”

Ian reached down, shook Djalma’s hand longer than he needed to, and pulled Djalma to his feet. Mixing goodbyes with more gratitude, he hardly let Djalma speak again. He was too eager to try Djalma’s solution. Besides, those herbs cooking on the stove had become a little too intense for his comfort.

As Ian made his way quickly through the woods toward his car, Djalma called from the porch, “Find out why you and she are in contact.”

Later, during his drive, Ian felt bad about the hurried, even discourteous, way he had fled from the meeting with Djalma. He had been able to tell from Djalma’s several attempts to speak that there was more to tell about this solution than Ian gave Djalma time to do so.

The truth was that Ian did not care to hear about any possible side effects or be given any precautions. He felt like he had a reprieve from a terminal disease. Anything that might happen had to be better than what he had been experiencing.

Continued next week, Parallels

copyright 2006 CG Walters

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,


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

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

Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader

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

CelebraZine 06Dec08

We were never cast out of Eden, but walk daily from it, to the degree that we do not feel worthy of the gift of ultimate happiness.–Strike a Chord of Silence, CG Walters
photo by Eddi 07

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see.

May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.


Celebrate yourself!


Dan Kretschmer presents 10 Ways To Boost Your Creativity posted at vince’s ear. No matter what line of work you’re in, or what you do in your free time, we all need to rely on creative solutions.

The best way to cheer yourself up is to cheer someone else up. –Mark Twain

Drunvalo speaks about his book entitled: The Serpent of Light: Beyond 2012 – The Movement of the Earth’s Kundalini and the Rise of the Female Light, 1949-2013.


Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your submission (containing text, image, video, and audio, poetry, quotes, etc.) anytime for the daily installments of CelebraZine, a ‘running blog carnival’ of What’s Right in the World.

Note: Even if you are not the blogger of the work you’d like to suggest, but have noticed someone’s work that you think should be included in a Celebration of What’s Right in the World, –empowering people and spirit–please point out the work to us.

Blessings, dear ones,


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

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



Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader


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





Welcome to today’s posting of CelebraZine (eZine to Celebrate What’s Right in the World), a ‘running blog carnival’ (of posts both found and shared with me) that uplift and inspire…. an inspiration of sayings, video, audio (music and speech), images, poetry–anything and everything that feeds the positive in heart, spirit, and mind.