Serialization of Sacred Vow: Searching

photo by h.koppdelaney

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

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

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

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

Searching

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suen?” he called.

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

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

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

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

Katerina knew she could not attempt another visit. Her need to return to the Motherworld was too great. As soon as she pulled herself back into the mortal form that was her own, every member of The Nine instantaneously received her request for termination of the rite. The gurgling song of streams that surrounded the circle of Crones aided her return.

Though Katerina felt her spirit fully identify with the body of her home reality, her mind was overwhelmed with the competing identities she had integrated into her awareness during the searches. Still in the seated meditation posture, Katerina slumped forward, reaching her hands to the ground for reconnection, pressing her palms to the soft, living moss that covered the ground below her. Her breathing was deep and slow. With each inhalation, the scent of the evergreen forest strengthened her connection to this place, her primary home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continued next week, Tea Ceremony

previously, Prologue

copyright 2006 CG Walters

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

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Searching (for a Soul Mate)

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

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

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

Slowly he sat upright, eyes staring in Katerina’s direction, though completely unaware of her, staring through her formless presence and beyond her. A smile spread over his weathered face.

Mesmerized, Katerina watched the man’s bright eyes as he began to move his head to the left. The moment his attention came to rest, an undeniable serenity radiated from his face, drawing Katerina to turn and seek out its inspiration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good fortune and bad awaited Katerina at the next location she tried to visit. For whatever reason, she was blocked from entering the environment. This meant the spirit of the very person she had come to visit denied her access—so she had been taught.

The barrier was good because of the respite it afforded her, even momentarily. It was bad because this failed attempt was an opportunity lost and she had no time to waste. Katerina could feel her subconscious becoming overwhelmed. She would have to abandon the search very soon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suen?” he called.

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

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

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

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

Katerina knew she could not attempt another visit. Her need to return to the Motherworld was too great. As soon as she pulled herself back into the mortal form that was her own, every member of The Nine instantaneously received her request for termination of the rite. The gurgling song of the streams that surrounded the circle of Crones aided her return.

Though Katerina felt her spirit fully identify with the body of her home reality, her mind was overwhelmed with the competing identities she had integrated into her awareness during the searches. Still in the seated meditation posture, Katerina slumped forward, reaching her hands to the ground for reconnection, pressing her palms to the soft, living moss that covered the ground below her. Her breathing was deep and slow. With each inhalation, the scent of the evergreen forest strengthened her connection to this place, her primary home.

Surges of energy began to run through her muscles, making them twitch. Katerina strove to suppress these involuntary movements.

Undoubtedly, out of need for its own survival, Katerina’s conscious mind was feverishly sweeping through the queue of her recent experiences and vanquishing all contending identities to the subdued recesses of her subconscious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The old Matriarch wrapped an arm around Katerina’s back and helped the younger woman to steady her wobbly legs.

Katerina looked into the concerned, almost teary eyes of her superior and said, “I truly feel that something is unique to this occurrence of the rift.”

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

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

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

Despite the Matriarch’s compassionate tone, Katerina took her words as a reprimand. “I will not fail my duties. Until I find the Union, I will search without cease.”

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

copyright 2007 CG Walters

**Disclaimer: For me, truth is personal and the consciousness that created the world before us is so complex that it can and does simultaneously manifest an infinite number of realities that sometimes appear to the human mind to be diametrically opposed to one another.

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the mystical, metaphysical, and mythical insight that we all possess. He see fiction not as something less than truth, but something akin to a mantra…a means to induce the reader into comfortably ‘allowing’ their personal truth—a living, ever progressing truth, fit to their need at any given time.

His current novel, Sacred Vow is first and foremost a metaphysical love story, a tale of soul mates—twin flames—a journey toward our one true love…in its infinite expressions…bringing together two individuals from disparate realities—but one spirit—to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness.

Get the full length FREE PDF eBook of Sacred Vow by going to www.cgwalters.com/spirit_story.htm and clicking on the link in the page to download the eBook. This will allow you to save the book to your disk. Purchase a signed paperback copy from http://sacredvow.dragonsbeard.com/ – or buy from your favorite brick and mortar, or online store (Amazon.com)

This copyrighted article may be freely reprinted as long as the entire article and complete by line is included.

Thanks to JM Scribes Blog Carnival , Creative Carnival - February 2008 , First Edition of a carnival of speculative fiction on The Writers’ Block , Clary Lopez Books Carnival , and Carnival For Short Stories - Edition IX for featuring this article.

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Katerina

picture by imhis1

Sacred Vow is a unique, ingeniously written visionary/metaphysical novel about one true love and its infinite expressions. It asks the reader to consider an experience where our interconnectedness and ‘self’ definition might extend far beyond the segmented (individualistic) awareness previously held by so many. It takes us on a journey deep within, exploring and discovering one’s own mystical longings and a wealth of endless knowledge. Be prepared for some surprises.—Spirit in the Smokies Magazine of Living NEWStories

Installment 5 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).


Katerina

Ian and his new friend had quite a few pleasurable visits over the six weeks that followed. With the exception of a couple of short periods when she did not show at all, he saw her one to several times every week. Her visits lasted only seconds on his watch, yet the activity that he could recall made Ian feel that they had been together upwards of several hours at a time.

He came to call the woman Katerina sometime after her second visit. Absentmindedly interrogating himself after he returned from their time together, trying to get some better idea about what exactly he was experiencing, Ian realized that at some point he had begun referring to her by that name. The certainty and familiarity with which he used the name amused him.

Ian started to search for the justification of this inadvertent christening. Surely, he had picked up something in the vision without realizing it, something that suggested her name. After considerable deliberation, he found no such clue. And yet he experienced discomfort when he did not refer to her as Katerina. He was certain that he somehow knew her name. And even if it was not her name, what would it hurt to call her Katerina until he knew her name for sure? Using this name was much more soothing to him.




Ian next encountered Katerina as she was sitting in the grass under a tree of beautiful purple flowers. Comforting a dear, little girl, perhaps three years old, on her lap, Katerina acknowledged Ian’s presence at about the moment he became aware of her.

When Katerina spoke to him, the child looked about as if she had no idea whom Katerina was addressing. But, the little girl did not seem disturbed by Katerina’s response. Once the youth decided there was no one else with them, she laid her head back onto Katerina’s breast and closed her eyes.

“You have a lovely daughter,” Ian said.

Katerina shook her head, very slowly, in order not to disturb the child’s rest. The caring look for him on Katerina’s face gave comfort to the depth of Ian’s soul. He had never imagined that there could be so much connection between two people merely through visual communication. No wonder the child was so contented in the company of such an empathic woman.

“She’s not your daughter?” he asked.

Again, another slow denial, and then Katerina stroked the child’s hair.

He looked about at the surroundings. They were in a sculptured garden, spanning in all directions as far as he could see. True, he could not see much more than fifty yards in any direction, but the paths that disappeared in every direction implied there was much more beyond.

When Ian’s attention returned to her, Katerina was gazing intently at him. At first he was a little embarrassed with the attentiveness of her focus.

“You know. I suppose I should start by introducing myself, though it seems we are rather familiar already.” He was starting to ramble, so he calmed himself before continuing, “My name is Ian Sarin. It has been a joy to meet you, dear lady.” He bowed his head.

She nodded in acknowledgement, placed a hand on her chest opposite the head of the sleeping child, and spoke. It was obvious that she had introduced herself, but Ian did not catch her name.

“I am so sorry,” he responded. “I have always been inept at lip-reading.”

Then Ian started nervously rambling again, “You know, after we met the second time, I got the most assured idea that I already knew your name. I had no reason for it, but I just couldn’t help believing that your name was Katerina. In fact, having become so certain of it, I was afraid that I would just call you . . .”

Noticing her smiling and nodding, Ian regained his focus, thinking he had missed something she was trying to convey.

“I am sorry. What did you say?”

Again, she placed a hand on her chest, but spoke with slow, exaggerated movements, slightly pausing between each syllable. She appeared to say I . . . am . . . Kat . . . er . . . ina.

What she said seemed obvious, but Ian distrusted his eyes. Surely, his own preconception of her name was making him imagine that he understood what she said. Still, he had to check.

“Katerina? Your name is Katerina?”

She nodded with enough enthusiasm that the little girl stirred to see what was happening.

“That’s amazing,” he said. “How could I have possibly guessed that?”

Katerina kissed the little girl’s cheek, and tried to coax her head back to rest. Apparently, the little one had received all the comfort she required and was fully revitalized. Without any further indication of intent, the child jumped to her feet, looked quickly to one side, and started to talk excitedly.

Katerina nodded, and the girl rushed toward one of the many paths radiating from the clearing. Waving back to Katerina, the child barely missed running into Ian. She seemed no more aware of his presence than she had earlier.

He laughed at the transformation and watched the child disappear around a flowerbed. When he turned to look back at Katerina, Ian was surprised that she was now standing right in front of him, gazing into his eyes.

Katerina reached to touch him, but her hand remained barely suspended in front of the upper right side of his chest. “Hello,” she mouthed. He was sure of that.

Reflexively, Ian reached to touch her face.

He was so engrossed in her eyes, that he did not really pay any attention to his hand. Anticipating the touch, his senses informed him that his hand had moved enough that it should now be reporting the feel of Katerina’s skin.

Ian pulled his attention from her eyes and looked to where he expected himself to be touching her face, along her jaw line. The translucent distortion that he saw instead of his hand caused him to jerk backwards. He pulled his hand back, bringing it right in front of his eyes for a better look. Still Ian saw nothing but a fuzzy impression of a hand.

“What the . . . ?” he said, stepping back again.

Noticing that Katerina was waving her hand in front of his face, Ian let his attention follow her hand. She drew a single finger to her lips, gently suggesting quiet, calm. From her lips, his attention went back to her eyes; in the process he became as subdued as the child had been a moment before.

What difference does it make that my hand is not solid? he thought. Ian looked around himself and back to Katerina. It was an odd feeling to perceive himself as the only intangibility in the environment.

“Look where I am, what I am doing,” he said out loud. “Why should I be so surprised just because I see something else unexpected?”

Though still not completely comfortable with the appearance of his hand, he was calmed. Being careful not to point with his finger, Ian asked for a tour. “Let’s take a walk. Please tell me about this gorgeous garden.”

They wandered about for quite a while, winding through path after path. It was all much manicured, more like an arboretum or a study of wild flora than the garden of even a lavish estate. He didn’t see any indication of a dwelling of any kind. Of course, since Ian could not hear anything during the visitations he could not rely on sound to tell him if they were close to any houses.

With the sights and the company, it did not take Ian long to completely forget about the distortion he saw instead of his hand. The couple talked like long-lost, dear friends, spending most of the time looking into each other’s eyes as they talked and walked. He was surprised that neither of them stumbled, he especially, since he had no idea where they were going.

Though he did not ever feel the contact, Katerina reached out to touch or stroke Ian—or more precisely, his location—frequently. He was amazed how much intimacy could be conferred by the implication of such a motion. The gentleness with which Katerina carried out those gestures, the look in her eyes, almost satisfied any need for touch, to a degree that he had never known before.

When she was close enough, Ian “touched” Katerina. He had no physical sensation as a result of the effort, and he did not look for confirmation of that touch. He did not want the pleasure of his experience interrupted by what he suspected he would or would not see.

As Katerina continued with the tour of the endless garden, Ian’s conscious mind started to push for answers to questions. Was he only a matter of his consciousness projecting to a location near Katerina when he was in her world? If so, what were the perceived sensations of his body in this place? He experienced fragrances, experienced movement as he walked.

And there was one odd sensation that was starting to disturb him. Ian’s movement had a vague hint of being guided, as if he was in some confined space. He walked along with Katerina, but it didn’t fully feel as if he was moving as a result of his own physical effort. The idea made no sense to him. Yet, it did explain why he never stumbled as he kept his eyes only on Katerina during their tour of the garden.

Two little children came barreling down the path. Their little faces lit up when they saw Katerina. They began chattering and waving, without slowing their pace. She replied with similar enthusiasm. Off they disappeared in the opposite direction, without any indication that they had seen Katerina’s guest.

The interruption was good for Ian. It brought him back to the joy of his moment. He returned to the steady exchanges with Katerina, rather than dwelling on the pointless concerns of his conscious mind.

Shortly afterward, he and Katerina stepped into a clearing and the sky opened up over them. The flood of sunlight drew Ian’s attention ahead and then upward, where he noticed a magnificent old-world building.

“What a remarkable place, Katerina! What is that?” Ian said, looking back and forth between Katerina and the structure, which stood about fifty feet away.

Moving in front of him, Katerina lifted her left hand toward the structure, as if to introduce it to him.

Overwhelmed by its unique beauty, Ian repeated, “What is it?”

She looked him right in the face and began to slowly pronounce something. Ian hated trying to lip-read. He found the slow, labored pronunciations to be more distracting than helpful. For all he knew, Ian caught nothing of what Katerina said, despite her efforts.

“Do you live here?” he guessed.

Yes, she nodded. Motioning for him to move forward, they headed for a large, ornate entrance. Katerina began telling him about it, at normal speed.

Her home was the archetypal French country cottage. It was neither small, nor very big. The exterior was extremely well crafted with stone, stucco, and heavy timbers. Quite a bit of the stone and exposed wood was carved, apparently by various craftspeople on different themes, at different times since the styles were so different. The cottage had to have been ancient. Unless her world was much different from his, he thought, not even the wealthy built homes of this size with such detail and artistry anymore.

Ian realized that he was acting as excitedly as one of Katerina’s young friends. Moving this way and that, he tried to take in all the rich detail. Katerina moved toward whatever he showed an interest in and tried to tell him about what he was seeing. Nearer the main door, off to one side of the building, there was a sculpture that fascinated him. Katerina stopped to see what he was looking at.

A path led directly to the intriguing sculpture. She waited to see if he wished a closer look. Ian turned toward the house, concluding that he could see the statue well enough from where he was, and he did not want to delay their entry into the house. Katerina followed suit and turned to continue toward the door.

An instant later Ian changed his mind. “I’ll be right back, Katerina. I am going to run over there for a quick look at the statue.”

As he was behind her, Katerina did not see his change of direction. A few steps into his jog, a sense of internal strain, a visceral pull, started to get Ian’s attention. Another couple of steps and he experienced a rush of faintness. Before he could take another step, Ian lunged back—against his recliner.

The return to his study was abrupt, but he recovered without complication. His little stroll toward the statue alone let him know he was correct in supposing he could not move far from Katerina when in her reality. Based on that experience and the children’s unawareness of him, Ian concluded that in that place he was an apparition honed in on, and seen only by Katerina.


(Katerina to be continued next week)

last week, Tea Ceremony (part 2)

copyright 2006

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

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Many thanks to Karen at Creative Carnival - September 2008 for featuring this article.

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Sacred Vow

photo by h.koppdelaney

This is the kind of book that you will want to read and reread as it takes you on a very mysterious voyage into the invisible, into the world of the soul. This theme will never leave you... I recommend that you meditate after reading this book. I think this way, you will retain more of the book’s message that you can bring back to your own consciousness use as a tool to achieve your own goals. The resources in this book are impossible to describe in a simple review like this. Just open up and be receptive, and you will receive a wonderful gift from this author. --Marie-Claire Wilson, for Oracle 20-20

Installment 17 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Sacred Vow

Soon after his call with Djalma, Ian achieved his passionately sought goal of meeting Katerina many more times, but he could not have imagined what the feat would demand of him in return. Ian knew that in pursuing love, one never intentionally asks to be made defenseless, gullible, and imprudent, but many a love, as well as countless other great treasures, would not have come to pass without first coming to possess some degree of those more dubious gifts.

For some people, but not for him, it might have been debatable whether Ian’s next visit was a gift of benevolence to lure him onward or a cruelty. For him it was, unquestionably, kindness.

All that was necessary was for Ian to cease to pursue the next visit so fervently, and to rest comfortably with the confidence that he was connected with Katerina. After a month of ignoring numerous invitations, Katerina visited Ian during his meditation one evening. Perhaps it was coincidence—or had it become necessity?—but the teapot was not is the study this second time as well.

As had become his habit while meditating, Ian sat cross-legged on his woolen couch. Sitting there, Ian began to perceive the Katerina of his original tea visions, the very same woman in appearance and manner. She sat, with her back to Ian, on a tall stool at a fine old-time writing desk of a dark wood. She was reading an ornate, thick, old book with a leather cover. Contentment spread through Ian, along with caution. He was afraid to breathe; afraid he might disturb the connection.

His view of the scene started to arc to the right, moving nearer to Katerina. At first, Ian was alarmed, as he had not willed this movement or even desired it. By then he was used to being out of control of his location in her environment. Today, Ian could determine that his view was not through the eyes of another person in the room with Katerina.

He expected Katerina to become aware of his presence. She always had been when he had visited in her home before.

This was indeed the very Katerina with whom he had become so familiar during the tea visits, unless his memory was playing another cruel trick. And, this was the room in her home that he had visited many times. Just as Ian remembered, her desk was in front of the window to the right of the exterior door. On either side of the desk were bookcases. He had watched her laugh, read, and write here many times before.

Katerina slid to the back edge of her stool, looked upward, and was silent for a time, perhaps in some prayer or meditation of her own. Ian felt close enough to lay a hand on her shoulder. With all the power of focus he possessed, he tried to reach forward and touch her shoulder. No hand obeyed. No touch occurred. Clearly, Ian had no body for this visit to her home.

Lost in the midst of this frustrating perception, Ian heard Katerina speak. After a moment of pleasant surprise, he noticed that her voice had a sad tone.

“Are you listening to me? Can you hear me, dear one?” she said.

“Yes!” he said. But his response made no sound. Katerina evidently did not hear him either. She did not reply.

Was that truly Katerina’s voice? he wondered. Her sadness troubled him. Though he had not been able to hear what she said during his previous visits into this life, Ian had never observed anything before to indicate that she was leading less than the most fulfilled of lives. His belief that she was happy had made the separation between their existences acceptable, at least until he could find a way to be with her. The melancholy rhythm of her words caused him sorrow.

After a moment of silence, she lowered her attention to the tome on her desk. “Where have you gone to, my friend?” she asked in that same sorrowful voice.

“I am here, Katerina,” Ian replied.

Katerina continued to talk to herself as she flipped slowly through the pages of the book. She appeared to be searching for something in particular.

Ian was looking over her shoulder. The pages of her book had detailed scrollwork painted around the edges. The paper was thick enough to be vellum. The book seemed handmade. The text was not written in English, and the formatting of the lines in most places implied that it was more like poetry than prose. Most pages had a variety of images in the text area, more like hand-drawn or painted artwork than printed pictures.

This particular book was not something that he remembered from any previous visit to her house, but it was not unlike other books Ian had seen Katerina use, or that were spread about her home. Based on what he had seen before, this could be a rare collection of ancient volumes of poetry. Or it could be something more along the lines of the esoteric writings, with which she was also so familiar. There were many such tomes on the shelves on either side of her desk and spread about the house, extraordinary in their appearance and their content.

In his previous visits, Katerina had impressed Ian as being both an artist and a mystic. He did not need to see her work with such manuscripts to come to this conclusion. The way she responded to children, flowers, or any other living things provided evidence enough for this speculation. She always exhibited the wonder of a child, the wisdom of an ancient, and a unity with nature rarely embodied by any member of humanity.

This day, Katerina periodically stopped to consider a particular page and traced her finger over a design or picture. Sometimes she sang lowly, barely loud enough for him to hear. One song reminded him of a children’s lullaby. Another was more of a hypnotic chant.

After the chant, she quickly flipped through several pages, as if remembering something, or returning momentarily to a section she had already viewed.

“What are you looking for?” Ian asked, needing to speak though he knew his effort would be silent.

“I am looking for you, dear one,” she said precisely at the right moment. “Are you looking for me?”

Ian was shaken.

He hoped Katerina would turn to look at him. Had she finally realized that he was there?

Without turning, she spoke again, “When will you return to me?”

“Oh, Katerina,” he responded, “I have returned. Why can’t I make myself known to you?”

She flipped through a few more pages, silent now.

“Look at me, Katerina,” he said. “Please turn around and see me!”

Abruptly, she stopped turning pages. It gave Ian hope. But she did not turn around.

She read aloud from the page she had found. At first her words seemed to be in a language unknown to him, but she spoke too softly for Ian to be certain. At a later point in the verse, Katerina suddenly began to speak clearly, and in English.

Twice known.
Eternal waters of unlimited life.
Three times shown,
Mysterious ways of freeform flight.
I have seen,
Been forgotten, but revived.
I have died,
But never been denied.
Somewhere near,
The immortal dance begins.
Swirling sphere,
From which all life extends.

Was this a favorite poem of hers? Ian wondered. Or was she reciting a potent spell for some specific purpose?

Sitting back in her stool, Katerina closed the book with a heavy thump. “I do not believe you have chosen to forget about us and our commitment to one another,” she said.

“Don’t believe it, Katerina! I haven’t forgotten!” he promised.

Katerina pushed her stool back from the desk. She rose, walked away from him and disappeared into another room. Ian stared at a piece of paper now lying on top of the book she had been reading from. The script was beautiful. He was certain it was Katerina’s own handwriting.

The paper was well worn—obviously a favorite keepsake. If for no other reason than its value to Katerina, Ian wanted to be familiar with this verse. There was only a single paragraph. Unlike the book, the words on the page were in English. Ian started to recognize them as something he was already acquainted with.

Katerina returned and stood between his vantage point and the desk. She had brought a candle and lit it, releasing a fragrance of an exotic smelling spice that Ian did not recognize.

With her back to him, she pushed the stool under the desk and stood with her hands on its back for a moment. Then she dropped her attention to the paper that he had been trying to read.

“Why are those words familiar, Katerina?” he said. “What is it?”

That piece of paper had to be significant, and Ian was certain he was familiar with those words—but, he could not remember how or why. He felt a rising sense of urgency, a need to know that verse. He wondered why—was it because he would soon be leaving there or that he might need the verse for some future purpose? He felt completely helpless. His view of the page was blocked now, and in this reality he had possessed no ability to direct his point of view...

Katerina turned as if to look straight into Ian’s face. She took a couple of slow steps toward him. They stood nose to nose; a couple of inches separated them. He could feel her breath and smell the mingled aroma of her old books and the candle that was burning.

Could she tell that he was there?

If so, Katerina gave no indication. She stood entranced, with a faraway look on her face. Ian wanted to believe that she could at least imagine his presence. If she was unaware of him, he had no idea what she was doing.

Ian wanted to keep taking in the whole sight of her, but his attention was drawn into Katerina’s bright, intense eyes. Time after time, he felt overcome as if he were falling into her eyes. Surprisingly, he felt inclined to resist the experience. He instinctively knew the visit was about to end. How he wanted to continue to remain with her, to be this close to her!

Her soft lips slowly formed a first, intentionally precise word. And then she spoke: “I offer this Sacred Vow to you alone. If ever you are in need, expect me to reach beyond possibility and take your hand. As you feel the warmth of our bond, know that you will never be forgotten, never be alone, and never be without this one enduring love.”

Katerina was reciting the verse from the paper on top of her book. Ian struggled to justify the deep familiarity he had with those words

After drawing a long, slow breath, Katerina began the same rhythmic recital again. As she did so, he was again drawn into her eyes. This time he let himself go. He could feel some part of himself blending into a single existence with her. Physically he was becoming part of her. When the verse was complete, he settled again into his sense of separateness.

A third time Katerina began to recite the same words. This time Ian gladly let go of any perception apart from hers. And this time, losing himself resulted in losing her as well.




As serene as his transition into Katerina’s parallel world had been, Ian came back into his awareness of his world with a charge. His heart was racing the moment he became conscious. He forced himself from the couch so quickly that he tripped over his feet and almost fell over on his face. He knew now why that verse was familiar!

There was a chance that the same Sacred Vow was in his house, somewhere. He had written it down after a stirring dream he had had some time ago. And he was going to move every item in his possession, one by one, until he found that scrap of paper—if he had not thrown it away.

Ian had a bad habit of disregarding musings and inspirations that he scribbled down as time passed. This particular bit of writing had sparked such uncomfortable emotion within him that he had almost destroyed it immediately. In fact, he remembered that the only reason he had not done so was he couldn’t believe a few words from a dream could force such an uncontrolled emotional response within him.

Now he knew why he had reacted so strongly to the passage. Ian resolved to find it.

It proved unbelievable how much a single person could store into every hidden space of an entire house. This became especially evident to Ian when he decided to inventory everything he owned. Half of what he sifted through over the next two days had certainly long lost its value or purpose in his life.

The task he was performing was almost a perfect situation for a thorough spring cleaning. Or, it would have been, if not for the fact that Ian was completely intimidated by the idea that he might accidentally overlook and discard just the item he was searching for. He unearthed everything, examined each thing, and put it right back in its original place—just in case he didn’t find what he was looking for and had to do it all again.

It was a good thing no one happened to come by the house during that little obsession. Ian was sure they would have had him carted away. He rarely moved away from his place of excavation, except very briefly to attend to life’s necessities. Several times he woke after having fallen asleep right in the middle of his work.

Ian was beginning to worry about what would happen if he didn’t find the paper. Months later Liz or Djalma might come looking for him and discover that he had expired during his fixated searching; unsatisfied but unwilling or unable to give up.

Eventually, Ian was successful. The crumpled bit of paper was one of several unrelated scraps in a box of old pictures. Ian had not imagined the impact holding that paper in his hand would have on him. Here, finally, was a concrete link between his reality and Katerina’s.

He was almost giddy in his exultation. He felt like a foolish child in his needing something tangible to reassure him of his connection with Katerina. But he didn’t care. Holding onto that bit of paper, he leaned back against a stack of boxes in the attic, too tired to move. Letting his guard down, he went peacefully to sleep.

Continued next week, Birthday

last week, One Who Knows

copyright 2006 CG Walters

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

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

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Serialization of Sacred Vow: 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.


Continued next week, Dangerous Choice

Last week, Birthday

copyright 2006 CG Walters

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

Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase 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