Category Archives: New Age

CelebraZine 06Feb09

You make a living by what you get. You make a life by what you give.– Winston Churchill

(thanks for the quote to Humanity Healing)

From Today and Tomorro


Alex Blackwell presents 10 Steps for Transforming Negative Thoughts into Positive Beliefs at The Bridgemaker

We can always  choose to perceive things differently. You can focus on what’s wrong in your life or you can focus on what’s right.Marianne Williamson


Joe presents What was the last thing you found?

“I would like to beg  you, dear Sir, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked  rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the  answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able    to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even    noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
-Rainer Maria Rilke’s advice to a young poet
Found by Joe in ‘bring me the rhinoceros’ by John Tarant

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

This  concludes 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.

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 (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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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

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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,

CG

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 http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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

CelebraZine 01Jan09

When deeds and words are in accord, the whole world is transformed. —Chuang Tzu


~KES presents You Are The Reason ~by Bonnie Ste. Croix

You Are The Reason ~by Bonnie Ste. Croix

If you could take silence and make it be words
If you could take children and let them be heard
If you could take war and let it be peace
The sun would rise on a world that’s free.

If you could take shame and let it be pride
If you could shine light on the places you hide
If you could bring soldiers back to their lover’s arms
The sun would rise on a peaceful morn.

If you could take Earth and heal all her wounds
And know every small step is gonna help it come true
If you could see beauty in everyone’s eyes
Then you are the reason for the sun to rise

If we could begin, think of how it would feel
To slow down the pace now, and let yourself heal
To love that there’s difference, to love that there’s same
One by one in the world now, we’ll make it change, we’ll make it change

If you could take Earth, and heal all her wounds
And know every small step is gonna help it come true
If you could see beauty in everyone’s eyes
Then you are the reason for the sun to rise
Then you are the reason for the sun to rise.
Then you are the reason for the sun to rise

BE THE REASON.

Happy New Year, Dear Ones!!! You are the reason for the sun to rise!!


This  concludes 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.

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 (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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist


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

Dangerous Choice

photo by h.koppdelaney

C.G. Walters wrote a compelling tale of the inter-dimensional meeting of a couple, overcoming the boundaries of the physical world and defying the three dimensional laws of science as we know it. In these times of spiritual awakening we are all (well many, many souls on earth) experiencing this concept does not seem as far fetched as it would in the past. I warmly recommend this book to all those who have fascination, as I do, for all things metaphysical, and the interaction between different potentials of different worlds. I have read of mediums and psychics who can “go behind the veil” see a whole set of different “potentials”, a scenario that is very confusing for us humans.

In “The Sacred Vow” C.G. Walters “went behind the veil” and conjured a magical reality of two lovers, their two souls coming together in different potentials, lives and worlds.

So, I’d like to congratulate C.G. Walters on his masterpiece and encourage the publication and warm acceptance of behalf of the reading public of this book and others of the genre that expands our minds and leads us through new exciting horizons.—Yael Oren Lewis, painter/translator

Installment 20 of 22 of the serialization of Sacred Vow (Dragon’s Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Dangerous Choice

Ian did not like what he saw and felt when he arrived in the next parallel life. If it had been an option, he would have gone right back to his couch; better an ordinary day after work than where he found himself. It was hard to imagine that this place had anything to do with Katerina, or with any time they had spent together.

He was moving through filthy, stinking streets filled with huge numbers of poor, destitute people without resource or hope. He could hear many sounds in this world, mostly a cacophony of voices—too many voices—sorrowful, angry, and suffering. The voices drowned out even the sounds of machines and big-city racket.

Ian’s point of view seemed to move too fast, and he was too high to be seeing from the eyes of a person. He watched from significantly above the heads of the people below, as if through the lens of a camera guided by some intention unknown to him. Why was he here?  Was Katerina in this reality at all?

Then his point of view began to lower. He turned a corner and slowed as a tattered woman carrying a baby came out of a dilapidated building just in front of him. Ian resisted admitting it, but an all too reliable intuition assured him that this was Katerina. Oddly, he had no feelings of curiosity whatsoever as to the identity of the child. If the child was his and Katerina’s, this would be the first alternate life in which they were parents. But what a place to raise a child!

Ian drifted behind and somewhat above Katerina. She was hurrying along as if she were being pursued. Since Ian seemed to be disembodied, he did not believe it could be he, whatever he was, who troubled her.

She spoke to the child. Her language was foreign, but Ian was not surprised that he understood her. He had become accustomed to this. Despite all the overwhelming babble of the people on the street, he was tuned into her alone.

“Don’t worry, Eestu. Momma will find a place where he cannot hurt us,” she said.

Perhaps because the baby was being jostled as Katerina rushed away, perhaps because it could feel its mother’s distress, the child began to whimper.

“Sh-ssshh, baby. It’s going to be all right. I’ll get you food soon.”

The mother and child also had to contend with hunger? Ian definitely did not want to see this. But once he knew this was Katerina, he could not wish to leave. Even if he tried, it never appeared that Ian had a choice about when to leave or what do to once he entered into these parallel lives.

The baby continued to be bumped about, as the mother tried to force her way through the crowds. All the people were as dirty and ragged as she was. Some cursed her as she pushed by them. Once, someone struck out at Katerina as she moved past. Ian tried to lunge to her defense, but his bodiless self left him unable to pursue the desire.

Why am I here? he demanded of himself. I cannot interact with Katerina. I cannot help her.

Just below Ian, entering his field of vision, two men were walking up behind Katerina very quickly. Ian was terrified that they intended to harm her.

Katerina had obviously expected someone to follow her. As the men forced their way through the crowds, people responded angrily. When the men got closer, Katerina saw them and tried to run, but the wandering crowds held her back. All she did was bounce off the back of the man in front of her.

She abruptly turned down an alley. It was less congested and allowed her to run.

Of course, as soon as her pursuers got to the same alley, they were also able to speed up. Still Ian followed, now behind the men chasing her. A hungry woman carrying a baby could not have outrun them for long, even if a huge pile of trash had not blocked the entire alley a little further down.

The baby was screaming now, as loud as it could. Katerina tried running up the pile but slipped back down. She backed up against the wall and tried to use it for support to climb. Still she slid down on the loose rubble as the men approached confidently. They were no longer in a hurry, knowing she could not escape.

Ian’s own movement was slowed in response, but his emotions were rampant. He felt her panic as if it were his own. He thrashed about within the uncontrollable restrictions of his invisible confinement as desperately as Katerina did below.

Forced to accept that she could not overcome the pile, Katerina turned and dashed toward her pursuers. As she ran she added her own tormented wail to that of the baby’s. Her pursuers laughed, delighted at her suffering.

The larger of the men stepped to one side, as if he would let Katerina go by. Just as she saw the opening and moved toward it, he grabbed the arm that held the baby and jerked her toward him. It was amazing she did not drop her little bundle, given the force he used.

“And just where d’ya think ya’re going? Thought ya would slip away without paying Mr. Chen-ye what he’s owed?”

“Leave her alone!” Ian yelled, heard by no one but himself. The dim light that filtered into the alley began to flicker.

Katerina was looking only at her baby, trying anxiously to soothe its fears, speaking first softly to the child. “Shh, Eestu, Sh-h-h.” Then she raised her face to respond to her attacker. “I’m going to get food for my baby. You can see that she is hungry.”

The smaller man responded, “You got no money to pay. Where ya gonna get food? Maybe you were shopping at the alley mission here?” He laughed nastily, looking at the larger man for approval.

Defiant and trying to maintain her dignity, Katerina jerked her arm to free it from the big man’s grip.

“Let go of me!”

He raised the back of his other hand, to slap her. Ian fought to intervene, but could not overcome his limitations.

The large hand froze in the air. Then he slowly lowered it and said, “There’s no hurry for this. First, ya tell how ya’re going to pay what is owed.”

Katerina looked with horror, at one man then at the other. She clutched the baby all the tighter. “My husband, he took Mr. Chen-ye his due this morning. He left out just before I did.”

“Husband? What husband?” said the big man.

“The baby’s Da—” she shot out. “—My husband has what’s due.”

Ian suspected the mid-morning skies were as clear as they probably ever got, considering the air was dense with smog and stench, but even that limited light was wavering in the alley.

The smaller man snorted. “How about that, Ammon? She’s got a husband.” Showing his contempt for her hope, he spat on the street near Katerina’s ragged semblance of a shoe. “There ain’t no marriage on the streets.”

Stroking the baby, she said stubbornly, “I have a husband! Just because you didn’t see him—”

The larger man jerked Katerina’s arm again, demanding her attention to their business. “Forget that craziness! Something is owed and no husband has paid it.”

Katerina was crying silently. Tears left tracks down her dirty cheeks.

Ian lunged for the larger man, hoping against hope that the tension building within him would translate into effect. But he was denied once again.

Katerina was stroking the child and mumbling to herself. “He won’t forget. He’s always with us.” Over and over, she repeated this. The chant was starting to annoy her captor.

“Shut up, you! Listen to me!” To get her attention, he jerked her arm again, harder, shaking her whole body side to side, but she seemed scarcely aware of what was happening. Then everything went black and silent.

“What the . . . ?” Ian screamed.

He fought to see, but with no physical eyes, there was no place to direct his focus. Then, just as suddenly, the vicious nightmare in the alley was back.

“Ya only got one thing worth somethin’,” the larger man continued. He applied his free hand to the baby daughter that Katerina held. “You’re too feeble to work, in the alleys or ‘Under,’ but the baby—”

His companion took the cue and grabbed Katerina by her shoulders. The two men began to separate her from her only interest in life. The small man pulled her arms back while Ammon, slowly, but effectively, pried the baby from her hands. Now her cooing chant rose into a piercing scream. Her lungs were strong enough. The sound she made quickly irritated her attackers. Ammon yanked the baby from her grasp and shoved her to the ground.

The two men turned to leave with their payment.

Ian managed a quick movement toward the men. Finally, he could help her! But all went black again. Katerina’s cursing screams went dead. And Ian could hear nothing.

Then the screams shot through his nervous system once again and Ian saw Katerina kicking the huge man in the back of his knees.

“Give me my baby, you bastard!” There followed a jumble of words spewing out too emotionally to be completely formed. Most of what came from her mouth was nothing but the unintelligible sounds of a suffering soul.

Ian managed another convulsive move, but he could not sufficiently direct it.

Katerina’s feet did little but make the man hunch his shoulders in anger. He slowly handed the howling baby to his companion, who grinned excitedly. Then the larger man turned and drew back a foot to kick her.

Before the kick was released, Ian experienced complete darkness and then a blast of light. But, the light was the light of his own home. He was sitting on the couch. A roar forced its way out of his mouth. The cry was not merely due to his frustration, but in response to the physical pain that shot through his nervous system.

Coming back from the trip so abruptly, Ian felt like he had been slammed at high speed into something solid. His body felt broken in many places; and his spirit was still bleeding for Katerina’s defeat. He tried to rise from the couch. But before he got all the way to his feet, he fell back again, about to lose consciousness from the pain that still surged through him.

Ian had to fight hard not to lose the light again. This was his primary reality, and he had some control here. He would not allow himself simply to black out! Waves of faintness battered him. The throbbing in his body was working against him.

“Katerina,” he shouted, “I am coming back!” Ian could not accept that there was nothing he could do for her. He had to try again to help her. Despite Djalma’s warnings, Ian was determined to force himself back into the transfer immediately. There was no time to wait. Maybe his inability to return to the same location was a matter of temporal proximity. Ian feared that if he waited for his spirit to recoup and recalibrate, the next shift would take him someplace else.

He had a fleeting sensation of being connected to her again, and he grabbed it. Instantly he felt a shift in his consciousness. Either he passed out or he was successful in projecting himself into back-to-back visits. He could only wait to see what sight unfolded in front of him.


Continued next week, The Void

copyright 2006 CG Walters

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,

CG


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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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

Eyes of Another

photo by alicepopkorn

You have a way of carrying the reader to places that could only be experienced by highly trained individuals, places that a mind can get lost in. What a book! I mean, it gets you questioning things beyond the book….is this the real Katerina we’re seeing? Maybe one of her other parallel lives is more dominant, is the real life? Do we all live parallel lives? Can we access them? etc, etc, etc…..you see? It’s got me asking a million questions and I love it. Annia Lekka , Author of Fish Tail Mountain

Installment 19 of 22 of the serialization of Sacred Vow (Dragon’s Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Eyes of Another

On Monday Ian called Liz to let her know he’d gotten home safely. After thanking her for inviting him to such a lovely party, he asked that she pass his thanks to Djalma.


“I love you, dear friend,” he said.


“And I, you, sweetie,” she replied.


“I’ll let you know when I’ve made another visit,” he assured her.

A couple of days later, Ian realized he had not taken the teapot into the study since the evening of his last visit with Katerina. Remembering Djalma’s speculation that he, not the items in the room, was the portal now, Ian removed a few more items from the study. In an act of daring, he moved the Fauvist painting into the guest room, and the cane-bottomed chair to the living room. He had really wanted them in those rooms for some time but had not dared take the chance. He also made a note of what he had moved and where, just in case he still needed their psychic assistance.


Just so his friends would not worry, Ian called Liz a little later that week. They had a good talk. She had not seen Djalma for a few days. Ian told her he was not considering attempting a visit until the following week.


As eager as he was to see Katerina again, Ian’s inner wisdom seemed to provide a contented patience. He could not say why he felt he needed to wait. But as long as the respite felt right, he would wait.


In time that same judicious part of him gave Ian the go-ahead for more time with Katerina. The next few visits, however, made him question whether that supposedly wise self really knew what it was doing. He did not know what made the difference between the visit that had introduced the Sacred Vow and the next few that followed, but it turned out not to be an easy time for him.


With no more rational understanding than Ian had when he knew not to attempt a visit, one day after work, Ian’s intuition led him to go into the study and sit on the couch. For a little while, he leaned back thinking of nothing, shaking off the workday. Without particular forethought, he pulled his legs up and crossed them.


Katerina and he (or the person whose eyes Ian saw her through) lived in a city. They were in a windowed apartment of a multistory building. Their large living space was not without considerable evidence of affluence. There were expensively framed, original paintings on the walls. Much of the furniture was ornate, solid wood. Several of the articles had the uniqueness of handmade work, and Ian felt certain a number of the pieces were antiques. The floor had an exotic pattern of inlaid wood, covered with finely crafted rugs. The technology of appliances and the buildings he could see through the windows suggested this life took place in the present, the very near past, or in the near future.


Only intuitively did Ian recognize the woman in the room as Katerina. Maybe Djalma would have said it was honing in on her energetic signature. Her behavior and appearance was different, but Ian had no question this was she.

“Where have you been?” Katerina asked, sounding mildly annoyed.


“Visiting friends. What difference does it make?” The tone of the voice Ian felt resonate within his host body, her partner’s voice, showed he was unconcerned.


“More likely, visiting a friend,” she said.


Now Ian understood the environment and was having a hard time imagining the purpose of this visit. It took too much effort to make a journey just to watch this annoying alternate life where Katerina and her partner so thoroughly disregard each other.


They have no idea who they are or what we all share, Ian thought to himself.

The words between the couple made it obvious the husband was having an affair. His responses sometimes implied that they were both frequently unfaithful. With that kind of wounding behavior, Ian expected some strong emotion to be flowing with their words. Ian, though not his host, seemed to be the only one in the room feeling any such passion about what was happening to their relationship. Katerina and her mate stepped through the conversation with a choreographed precision, without any real emotional effect.


What the hell are you people doing? Ian thought. He felt no lack of excitement: he could assure them that the field of play was not completely without passion on this day.


Strike. Parry. Step and speak again. This “argument for display” that they were carrying on was unnatural to Ian. They must have been practicing that pattern for years in order to achieve such threatening accuracy without actually imposing any evident damage on each other. As their dance flowed, Ian was being drawn in ever deeper. Unable to resist, he responded, though silently, to the pernicious nature of their actions.


Then suddenly the couple appeared to throw in a new step. The cadence of their argument staggered at just that moment, and the man took the lead, seemingly out of sequence. Ian had to wonder if the performance was going as expected, because even his host seemed surprised by what he did next. Some evidence of true feeling started to filter into his voice. Ian had a strong sense that this direction was something neither of the couple expected.


“You’re being ridiculous,” he said as he—or he and Ian—stood completely immobile for just a moment, seeming not quite sure what to do for the first time. Then Katerina’s partner walked toward the door, as if to leave the room.


She followed closely behind him, “Don’t you walk away from me!” Her voice was full of an emotion that was more appropriate to the words she spoke. “I may be a fool for staying here, but I am not stupid. What do you think you are doing?”


Her partner turned and stared at Katerina, but did not say anything at all. She may have known what he was doing, but he did not seem to.


There Ian was, gambling with his health and risking his spiritual well-being for any possible hope of interaction with the woman with whom he shared a multitude of lives. What he was seeing instead was a time where Katerina and he—assuming that his host was some version of himself—had utter disrespect for the relationship they were then sharing.


What was the purpose of that particular visit? Ian knew there are always two sides to a coin. Undoubtedly, Katerina and he shared many happy lives and some Ian would rather not know about. But he did not enjoy paying the price required for an experience such as this.


Ian speculated that the couple had never dealt with the real issues that were causing their callousness toward each other. It was not each other they were dissatisfied with, but themselves.


“If you want to leave me,” Katerina continued, “have the courage to tell me so, but do not treat me with disrespect.” There was no question she was feeling truly angry now. She was crying.


After a little more delay, her partner snapped back. “Yes! It’s over. It was always a miserable mistake. We never had anything. I don’t know why we ever got together!”


No! I hate this reality! Ian screamed inside his own head.


Then Ian found himself back on his couch. In his own world, his heart was as broken as had been the heart of Katerina when he’d left their most recent parallel life. He did not want to accept that there would be unhappy lives, even if they were part of his great bond with Katerina. It seemed that they simultaneously lived in many alternate lives, and he could not control which Katerina he would visit at any given time. If what he experienced in this last visit was going to dominate the visits to come, Ian did not know if he could continue.


The next few visits Ian had with Katerina were not any more satisfying, nor did he ever visit the same place twice. He continued to be little more than a spectator, pulled along for some unknown reason. If he’d had any sort of control on over his destinations, he would have chosen to return to visiting the Katerina of the tea visits. He would have loved to meet her in that French country house again.


The new experiences were not completely without interest for him, however. He came to know many manifestations of his dearest Katerina, and he was blessed with the knowledge of many of their parallel lives.


At first, Ian tried to meet with Katerina every evening after work. But after a time, he began instinctively to accept a limit to the frequency of the visits. He allowed himself a period of recuperation after each visit. In due time, he would be moved to sit for meditation again.


Ian decided that the purpose of the recent visits was only to expand his definition of his relationship with the woman he first visited. The most frustrating parts of the experiences were his lack of control during a journey, and his inability to return to a particular manifestation of their lives together.

During a given visit, even if Ian was certain that his point of view was through his eyes in a parallel life, his consciousness from his primary reality could do nothing but follow along. He wanted to communicate with the Katerina of the other lives, and with the manifestation of himself as her partner in those places. What a benefit it could have been to us all, he thought. The couples he visited stumbled about, sometimes not fully appreciating each other, never understanding the scope of their relationship as Ian understood it.


Every so often, Ian called Liz and reported to her—and through her, to Djalma—what was going on with the journeys, assuring her that all was fine. Djalma would periodically ask Liz to remind Ian that he might not be able to continue the trips forever. Ian had no doubt Djalma was correct. Transitions between his normal consciousness and his destinations were getting more complicated, a little tricky at times. Now and again, Ian was aware of being in a place that was merely a void, neither in his original world nor in one of the alternate realities to which he visited.


Liz frequently invited Ian to come and stay for the weekend, but he made excuses why he could not visit the mountains during that time. He could definitely feel the growing weakness within himself as he continued the visits. Ian knew that if Liz and Djalma laid an eye on him, they would be worried about what he was doing to himself.


More than likely, Ian thought, Djalma already knows, even without seeing me face to face. Djalma had merely acquiesced to Ian’s choice.


After a few more visits, still never returning to the same place twice, Ian had a visit in which he started to experience what he believed were the emotions of his parallel selves, during the visit. Up until that time, Ian had felt only his own responses to what he saw and heard. This new aspect of the experience was a little complicated, but it helped him come to some understanding of why Katerina and her partner made such foolish choices and failed to understand how precious their times together were. Gifted with his recently acquired perspective, Ian had the larger comprehension of the great web of his and Katerina’s many lives together. At the same time, the emotions of his host in the visited reality seemed to dominate Ian’s feelings during the visit—making it hard for him not to get lost in the same pettiness that hindered his host’s understanding.


The same thing happened several more times. And then it evolved into something more: Ian started to share the physical experiences of Katerina’s partner within the host environment. He would have liked to put an end to this added involvement. Once the bodily connection developed, he was subject to any physical ailments his parallel self was experiencing in the visited world. Further, after returning to his primary reality from such a journey, it would take Ian anywhere from hours to weeks to separate his actual, physical self from the parallel self’s sensations. This, along with Ian’s increasing weakness in his primary body, forced him to spend longer periods of recovery between visits.


Once, a host in the visited reality was sick with a fever. Ian’s body exhibited that fever after he returned home. Three days afterward, Ian still had the fever and was almost delusional from high temperature. In desperation, he went to the doctor. She ran test after test but found no organic cause for his symptoms. Ian had hoped she could give him something to combat the discomfort, since he had the symptoms.


Just as no tests explained the fever, nothing was effective against it. Luckily, the fever broke as mysteriously—to the doctor—as it had developed. Ian could only hope that his host had become well in the recently visited parallel life, since Ian knew there was no chance he would be able to return to that particular life and check on his parallel self.


One other possibility that dawned on Ian was his symptoms had subsided because his parallel self had died from the fever. The union Ian had experienced with his host only a short time before caused Ian a unique sense of remorse over that idea. Even more unsettling was the implication that the experiences of Ian’s parallel selves could have a direct consequence on his physical body in this world. What would happen if he landed in a reality in which that self was dying? What if the parallel self died while Ian was still in the host world, bonded to that consciousness?


Through all the changes in the visits, Ian hadn’t been able to forget the visit when Katerina and his parallel self were ending their relationship. It seemed like somehow they were comfortable with a well-traveled, though unhappy pattern. Then Ian began to wonder if the influence of the parallel lives went only one way. Might he have disturbed the emotional balance of that couple’s life together? Were they truly surprised when the repetitious path of their quarrel took a new turn that day? What had he done? Ian knew any impact he’d had on them would influence his life here in this world as well, even if the impact was immediately unrecognizable.


No matter the threat to himself, Ian knew he would not be able to stop going into the parallel lives. His life had been redefined: it was something more than he had ever imagined before the visits began. But, Ian didn’t know exactly what his life was now. The idea that he had been directly affecting the visited lives, without realizing just how or to what extent, was disturbing to him. His “visiting” was sometimes more frustrating than it seemed worth. But as little sense as it made occasionally, he was still certain there was a purpose to it and a need for him to continue on.

copyright 2006 CG Walters

Continued next week, Dangerous Choice

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,

CG

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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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist


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

CelebraZine 22Dec08

Everyone takes the limits of his own vision for the limits of the world.– Arthur Schopenhauer
Blessings for the World’s Servers by butterflygris at Humanity Healing Network
Poem: “Only Breath”, by Rumi

Samme presents Great Resources for Women’s Rights Issues…including Top 10 Videos In Women’s Rights

This is What a Feminist Looks Like

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

This  concludes 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.

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 (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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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

CelebraZine 19Dec08

I don’t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve. –Albert Schweitzer

photo by Robbie G1

Bryan Flournoy interviews Radio Host, Vaishali at Making It All Click. Fasten your love seat belts, because Vaishali is hitting the air and print waves. Move over Howard Stern, Vaishali, the Spiritual Wild Child has arrived, and is exposing the world to her full frontal naked truths. “Big, double D truths” as Vaishali likes…

photo by Mr.Tea

Myrko presents The 10 Most Inspirational Quotes by The Buddha at AwakeBlogger. “Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.”


This  concludes 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.

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 u

Celebrate yourself!

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,

CG


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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist


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