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.
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Friday, October 12, 2007
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Serialization of Sacred Vow: Searching
photo by h.koppdelaney
The most significant event of your life calls to you, from barely beyond your perception…both imminent and impossible… a call of the heart, of the spirit, and of yourself to which you have not yet been introduced.
Sacred Vow is visionary fiction of a journey toward our one true love…in its infinite expressions…bringing together two individuals from disparate realities—but one spirit—to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness…a breach that threatens us all.
Sacred Vow is a metaphysical novel about a man who responds to the mysterious call of a woman, opening the way to redefinition of both himself and his understanding of the world around him. He takes his first steps on a journey to accept the world around him as a place to live, not simply a place to survive day-to-day. Sacred Vow is both a narrative and the means for the author to communicate a positive message about life and fully integrating the most into each moment. Highly recommended—Midwest Book Review
Installment 2 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).
Searching
No longer confined to material experience, Katerina crossed into the dimly lit room, invisible to its inhabitants. She had never visited this world before, never laid eyes on this person, yet Katerina’s bond to the lean, gray-haired man seated at the wooden table was so intense and immediate that she barely managed to suppress the impulse to reach out and embrace him.
He rested a forearm on either side of the tattered book at which he stared, completely absorbed. In a few moments, he began to read aloud to himself, in a gentle voice.
“So long have we been sharing our experience, our becoming, that it no longer makes sense to imagine such a thing as either of us wholly divisible from the other . . . if it ever did make sense.”
Slowly he sat upright, eyes staring in Katerina’s direction, though completely unaware of her, staring through her formless presence and beyond her. A smile spread over his weathered face. Mesmerized, Katerina watched the man’s bright eyes as he began to move his head to the left. The moment his attention came to rest, an undeniable serenity radiated from his face, drawing Katerina to turn and seek out its inspiration.
He was looking into the face of a woman sitting in a large, upholstered chair, motionless, silent, and eyes closed. Upon first recognition of that face, Katerina’s intimacy with it involuntarily pulled her nearer. It was her own face on which Katerina was gazing, many years older, but indisputably her face. Katerina wanted to linger and rest her spirit, weary from all the traveling today, to just take in the simplicity of their life together in this place. But she knew that would be unwise.
Though only an observer, Katerina felt herself beginning to fuse into this life, making it her own. And this reality was progressively laying claim to her. Synthesis into the visited environment was a known problem with this manner of searching. She had been cautioned against becoming too tired and being seduced into idling.
She took one last look at her partner in this alternate life—at the partner of this parallel self. Katerina forced herself to continue the search elsewhere. This man was surely a manifestation of the one she sought, but this was not “him.”
Then she released her hold on this life. The tangibility of another facet of reality dissolved around her, as it had so many times before that day.
When letting go of a visited life, Katerina often had a sense of rapid movement—somewhat unnerving. It was similar to the dream sensation of falling when on the brink of sleep. Except this movement went in all directions simultaneously, including inward.
As Katerina removed herself from this life of hers, she retained traces of it. Though she had visited the place for only moments, that reality had been thoroughly integrated into Katerina’s definition of self, her emotions, and her mind. The same thing had happened with each parallel life that she had visited today. The resulting assimilation of parallel self-definitions was proving to be the hardest part of this task. Katerina could feel something similar to layers of simultaneous lifetime awarenesses building within her consciousness. With each new layer, Katerina’s definition-of-self expanded, but the primary identity receded a little. The more the tether to her prime personality weakened, the more dangerous the next visit became.
These dangers to the visitant were why this ritual was so rarely performed. Only by forcing acknowledgment of her exceptional skills had Katerina been able to persuade The Nine to consent to, and assist in, her searches. With each passing in and out of these parallel lives, Katerina became progressively more understanding of the Crones’ concerns.
Good fortune and bad awaited Katerina at the next location she tried to visit. For whatever reason, she was blocked from entering the environment. This meant the spirit of the very person she had come to visit denied her access—so she had been taught. The barrier was good because of the respite it afforded her, even momentarily. It was bad because this failed attempt was an opportunity lost and she had no time to waste. Katerina could feel her subconscious becoming overwhelmed. She would have to abandon the search very soon.
As though she had been slammed into a wall, Katerina rebounded. With no time to prepare, she entered into another parallel life. The quickness of the transfer had a severe impact on her already depleted energies.
Hazy images began to take form before her eyes. As in every other visit today, what Katerina saw and felt was as real to her as the life in the world of her physical form. These people, her lives in parallel realities, always existed right before her eyes. They were as real as any member of her order that she interacted with day in and day out. In this process, Katerina merely opened her awareness to the otherwise unacknowledged doorway between the infinite realities.
Memories that were hidden from her a moment before—memories belonging exclusively to this parallel life—began to introduce themselves into her consciousness. A flood of previously inaccessible senses, personal to this life, began to send their messages to her brain. Emotions without history for the traveling Katerina of a moment before began to structure in her mind the network of associations that gave them consequence. It was becoming almost impossible to fully open herself to yet another mind, another life, and still retain her distinction from them.
“Maintain the focus,” she reminded herself. “Where is the Union?”
Psychically, she searched the structure in which she stood for evidence of his presence. She knew he had been in this room only a moment before. Scanning one room after another with her mind, her senses met him returning up the stairs from a lower floor.
Perceptive of subtle energies, he stopped, and turned his head as if trying to catch the sound or sight that had fleetingly stirred his attention. Though her presence was centered in another room, Katerina held her mental focus on him, just outside of his range of perception. There was something very special about this one, and she took time to enjoy that uniqueness.
But he is not the Union, her mind cried out.
“Suen?” he called.
“What is it, Yeetar?” his partner replied from a room at the back of the top floor.
Yeetar looked around, curious. It was obvious that he had perceived an unfamiliar intrusion into his world. He seemed to be reaching out with something more than his five senses, trying to locate her. So Katerina cautiously began to withdraw her presence.
Significant, she thought. But, still not the Union.
Katerina heard Yeetar reply, uncertainly, “Nothing, Suen,” as the last of Katerina’s foreign essence departed from his world.
Katerina knew she could not attempt another visit. Her need to return to the Motherworld was too great. As soon as she pulled herself back into the mortal form that was her own, every member of The Nine instantaneously received her request for termination of the rite. The gurgling song of streams that surrounded the circle of Crones aided her return.
Though Katerina felt her spirit fully identify with the body of her home reality, her mind was overwhelmed with the competing identities she had integrated into her awareness during the searches. Still in the seated meditation posture, Katerina slumped forward, reaching her hands to the ground for reconnection, pressing her palms to the soft, living moss that covered the ground below her. Her breathing was deep and slow. With each inhalation, the scent of the evergreen forest strengthened her connection to this place, her primary home.
Surges of energy began to run through her muscles, making them twitch. Katerina strove to suppress these involuntary movements. Undoubtedly, out of need for its own survival, Katerina’s conscious mind was feverishly sweeping through the queue of her recent experiences and vanquishing all contending identities to the subdued recesses of her subconscious.
Katerina had no way of telling how long the hand had been on her shoulder. Still unable to withdraw her concentration from the processes of recovery, she wasn’t yet able to perceive whose hand it was. A minute later, unaware of who stood above her, Katerina began to realize that sympathetic energy flowed into her through the supportive hand, assisting Katerina in her efforts to integrate.
She had not wanted anyone to know how much impact the ceremony had had on her. She had been bold in her claims of being able to handle the process.
“You have done well, dear heart, and we are glad you are back with us.”
Katerina knew the voice. Head hanging down, eyes still closed, her sensory perception becoming exclusive to the world of her body, she replied, “I could not find him, Holiness. So many manifestations of him, but none of them were the Union.”
“That is both auspicious and unfortunate. With so many connections, the bond between you and him is exceptionally strong. It does, however, complicate finding the appropriate manifestation when seeking him without some assistance on his part.
“You have been remarkable in your effort, Katerina. No one would have asked so much of you. Care for yourself now, my child. This is a demanding task that you have undertaken.”
“I am certain something is not as we expect this time,” Katerina said.
“We may not understand why things are proceeding as they are, Katerina, but the Collective Consciousness cannot be wrong. We must carry out our practice as it has been handed down to us. The method has always served the need, and will again . . . in its own time.”
“Yes, Mother. But when I received the visions, it seemed he was not within an order. Is it possible?”
“The images you saw must be coincidental, not indicative of his full person, Katerina.”
“How can he refrain from replying?” Katerina asked, finally regaining enough strength to rise to her feet, though slowly. “Perhaps he cannot, or does not understand the Call.”
The old Matriarch wrapped an arm around Katerina’s back and helped the younger woman to steady her wobbly legs. Katerinalooked into the concerned, almost teary eyes of her superior and said, “I truly feel that something is unique to this occurrence of the rift.”
“I know you do, and I respect that belief. But you must accept that no matter the situation, it is perfection, as it has always been.”
A tear rolled down the wrinkled cheek before the elder continued.
“I would not have had you suffer this burden, Katerina, if I had such power to decide. And I must accept that this charge is yours to bear, in your own way.”
Despite the Matriarch’s compassionate tone, Katerina took her words as a reprimand.
“I will not fail my duties. Until I find the Union, I will search without cease.”
Rubbing Katerina’s back, the old woman said, “You have always surpassed your duties, dear girl, and are doing so now. You will not fail, cannot fail. It is we who must not fail you.”
Continued next week, Tea Ceremony
copyright 2006 CG Walters
C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.
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Wednesday, August 13, 2008
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.
Purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version
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Many thanks to Karen at Creative Carnival - September 2008 for featuring this article.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Serialization of Sacred Vow: Birthday
C.G. Walters has written an excellent occult novel about one of the most haunting themes in human experience – the search for one’s ‘twin spirit’ or twin soul. Sacred Vow kept me up half the night reading it. I simply couldn’t put it down! Throughout the book while reading the author’s description of the quantum universe, I had the feeling of ‘This is the way things really are!’ --Peter Calhoun: Author of Soul on Fire
Installment 18 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).
Birthday
After finding the paper on which he had written the Sacred Vow shared between Katerina and himself, Ian was enraptured for the rest of the week. Later in the week, Liz called, asking him to come to a party for Djalma’s twenty-seventh birthday. Ian was honored by the invitation and quite interested in meeting some of Djalma’s other friends. Liz was a normal enough sort of person, but Ian was certain that friends from Djalma’s inner circle would prove to be some entertainingly unusual characters.
When Ian arrived a bit early for the party that weekend, Liz’s car was the only one in the drive. Perhaps the rest of Djalma’s friends all live in the woods nearby, Ian speculated.
Liz was opening the door as Ian reached it.
“It’s so good to see you again, Liz.” He handed her a vase of bright purple Japanese lilies. “These are for you.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Come in.” She kissed his cheek as they embraced. “Let me take your jacket.”
Ian followed as she headed for the dining room. “I hope my being early isn’t inconvenient for you. Is there anything I can do to help you get ready for the party?”
“No inconvenience, and I’m all prepared for our gathering. Djalma is here.”
As they stepped through the dining room door, Djalma rose from his seat at the table. Ian’s two friends had already been having tea. The table was dressed beautifully, in just Liz’s style, with a number of tea snacks, though Ian thought the amount of food was rather modest for a party.
“Happy birthday, Djalma.” Ian stepped forward and offered his hand.
“Thank you, Ian. It’s good to see you again. I hope you had a good trip.”
Ian hadn’t fully realized it before, but Djalma had very kind eyes, the eyes of a wise, old man, clear and bright but gentle, and with an undeniable expression of loving concern. Concentrating on those eyes, Ian didn’t notice at first that Djalma was not releasing his hand.
“It was a good drive,” Ian said. The next thing he said came without thought. As Ian stood looking into Djalma’s eyes, he said, “And it’s very good to see you again.”
Djalma smiled and let go of Ian’s hand.
Ian stepped back and began to scan the room. There was only one more teacup on the table, so it appeared this would be a small party. Djalma’s other interesting friends would remain a mystery to Ian.
Ian gave Liz a questioning look. He suspected now that the invitation was to provide Liz and Djalma a chance to check up on him since the use of the token.
“It’s an intimate party, honey.” She smiled shyly. “You know there aren’t a lot of people who live around here during the off-season.”
Ian just nodded his head. “Yes, I know.”
Turning to Djalma, Ian handed him the present that he’d brought. “Well, I’m sorry. It looks like you won’t be getting many gifts.” Then he hesitated. “This is your birthday, isn’t it?” he said.
Djalma grinned and nodded. So Ian handed him a package.
Liz resumed her role as hostess. “Now you just sit over here. We’ve been having some Oolong tea.” She put her hand on Ian’s shoulder and directed him to the seat in front of the remaining teacup. “Is that good for you? Or would you like some green, black, or rooibos tea? Or perhaps something altogether different to drink?”
“Oolong will be wonderful, Liz.”
They took their seats, and Liz poured a cup of the tea. The hot, earthy smell of the steam rising from the cup relaxed him.
“Open your present, Djalma,” Liz said, as she passed Ian a tray or two of snacks for his choices.
The gift was a good paring knife to replace the warn knife that Ian had seen Djalma use in the cabin. The handle of the one he had was about to fall off and only a sliver of a blade remained.
“Not to deprive you of an old friend,” Ian said. “But you’ll have a replacement whenever you decide your current knife is due for retirement.”
Liz had a good laugh when she saw the contents of the box. She must have seen Djalma whittling at his herbs at some time.
Djalma laughed along with Liz, but his face was red. “Or,” he said, “one for someone else to use in helping me prepare the herbs while we talk.”
Ian felt lucky to share company with two such remarkable people. He sat back in the chair, sipped his tea and laughed with them. They had a party of three. Like little children, they laughed and joked, ate Liz’s treats, and gaily passed away several hours in good company.
They talked about what they had each been doing, books they had been reading, music they had been listening to lately. Ian had many good friends with whom he enjoyed sharing and laughing, but Liz and Djalma knew about a part of his life that he had not shared or felt he could share with anyone else. For that reason, even though these were not his oldest friends, they felt like his dearest.
The subject of Ian’s travels did not come up until Liz suddenly asked, “Have you seen Katerina lately?”
Ian looked at Djalma, who did not appear surprised. Liz and Djalma often seemed deeply in tune with each other.
Ian looked back at Liz, “Yes, I saw her again last weekend.”
Ian stepped into his sharing of the latest journey slowly. But soon the three were talking about Katerina and his visits with her as if she were a mutual friend in their physical world.
Djalma and Liz paid rapt attention to the story Ian told them of the Sacred Vow. He asked their opinions about what it all meant, but they offered few responses.
“It sounds as if you two have a very old connection,” Liz said, and Djalma agreed.
As Ian reached the end of his story, he knew it was getting late and he had to leave for home.
“Is anyone interested in a real meal?” Liz said.
“Not me, Liz. I have to start back. Tomorrow is Monday,” Ian said.
“You could take a vacation day. I have plenty of rooms, sweetie—all made up for company.”
“I wish I could, Liz. This has been wonderful.” Ian looked over at Djalma, meaning to include him as well. Djalma gave him a very focused look of seriousness, which Ian had hoped not to see this day. He knew Djalma now wanted to comment about Ian’s relationship as the paranormal thing that it was.
Ian decided to take the lead. “What is it, Djalma?”
“If you don’t mind, Ian, I need to ask: Do you feel any different than you did the last time I saw you?”
The question was easy to evade. “Well, yes. The last time I was here, I was still involved in the dark journeys. I feel better since they have ended. Remember how hard they were on my health?”
“My mistake,” Djalma said. Then after a pause, he went on. “Accounting for the recovery from the dark experiences, do you recognize any impact on yourself after these new visits?”
“After seeing Katerina this last time, I feel great. I’m telling you the truth.”
With each exchange, Djalma’s eyes became more focused, more serious. “Yes, you may feel great in your body. But what I mean is, when you’re in that relaxed place, just after the meditation ends, have you noticed even the slightest feeling of weakness or evanescence?”
“I’ve only had the meditative transfer experience twice.” Ian looked at Liz, hoping she’d interrupt. She did not. She had the same concerned look Djalma had.
“Everything is fine, Liz,” Ian said to her. He looked back at Djalma and addressed the heart of his concern, “Just what are you troubled about?”
“Though your health has improved, your energetic signature has much weakened since the last time I saw you,” he said.
Ian reacted with a defensive remark aimed at Liz. She’d been the one who had set up this meeting for a reality check that he did not want and could not now escape. “Do you think so, too?”
He immediately repented this childish response. “I am sorry, Liz,” he said.
She smiled sadly and empathetically. “You can trust Djalma,” she said.
Ian reached out to squeeze Liz’s hand and looked back to Djalma. Like it or not, Ian knew that he’d better consider what Djalma was worried about. “Tell me what you’re seeing, my friend.”
“It’s not visibly affecting your health yet,” Djalma said, “but I think it will, if the pattern continues. The materialization into other realities seems to take energy from you here. Perhaps this is because we don’t know how to guard against or restore the energy displaced in the process . . . What concerns me most is that I know of no one who can even speculate on what impact such visits would have on body or spirit, or the precautions that should be considered.”
Ian cut in. “Djalma, if there has been any negative impact, why doesn’t it impair my ability to visit Katerina? I don’t even need to use the teapot anymore.”
“I find that absolutely incredible. I wish you could tell me how you do it. Apparently, you are now able to adjust your personal resonance to create this portal, which used to take a whole roomful of energetic signatures to achieve. I’m speculating that when the collective signature of the study failed your purpose, your subconscious automatically simulated what it remembered about the experience, allowing you to continue to achieve the transfer during meditation.
“What’s most remarkable to me is that, so far as I understand it, with every reality shift, your signature should be greatly changed, requiring your subconscious to recalculate the proper resonance to achieve the desired end for each additional attempt. I hope you’ll someday be able to teach me how you do that.”
“I’ll be glad to,” Ian responded, “as soon as I have some idea of what I’m doing! Do you have any suggestions on how to overcome the displacement of energy?”
“I wish I did, Ian. As I said before, you’re doing something outside my scope of understanding. The only thing I know that would help is to stop materializing in her reality—”
Ian looked sharply across the table, and Djalma continued, “—which I’m sure you’re not going to consider. I can’t honestly say I would do so if I was in your position.”
Ian smiled, glad for the understanding.
“I can only imagine the connection with Katerina that you’re feeling inside,” Djalma went on. “It doesn’t surprise me that such an experience would lead you to risk your health and the stability of your mind. If I may, I’d like to offer a few things you might wish to consider further.”
“Anything that you think will help.”
“You’re not making these trips by your own spirit’s efforts alone,” Djalma began. “I am as convinced as you are about the connection you and Katerina have. This being so, if you continue to go down a path that eventually causes you harm, you certainly risk harming your link to Katerina and possibly also Katerina herself.
“It’s not only this one manifestation of Katerina with which you share the connection. Remember, you have now had a visit that seems to be the two of you as a couple simultaneously occurring in another reality. There could be many, many more expressions of your bond out there. Before I met you, I would have said that what you are doing is no more than a theoretical possibility. After seeing what you experience, my concern is that we cannot tell what impact this journeying might have on other lives, not only you and Katerina. Through the interconnected ties that bind us all, if you recklessly bring yourself to harm, who knows how many others of us may feel the effects?”
Ian sank back into his chair to consider the options. “You know that I cannot stop visiting her, Djalma. What other choices do I have?”
Liz had come around behind Ian’s chair and laid her hands on his shoulders. Feeling her supportive touch, he took a deep breath.
Djalma continued, “I can only suggest you don’t try to rush the period of recovery between each trip. You will definitely need to do some healing, and although your recuperative talent seems exceptional at this time, you must give yourself the full measure of rest that you might need.
“Your spirit may need considerable time for recalibrating the necessary energetic emanation after each journey. Should you force the next transfer before that calibration is ready or your energy is properly restored, you could end up lost somewhere in the transition. We would not be able to help you from this side and Katerina might not be able to find you.”
Ian silently considered the implications of Djalma’s words. From the look in his eyes, Ian could tell what he was about to impart next was very important.
“Now, this is purely intuition on my part. I have no other justification, but please remember it. If you run into any trouble, hold onto that piece of paper with the vow you expressed in the writing, which you and Katerina both possess. That could be most important.”
Djalma got up from his chair and gave Ian a big smile. “Just like any friend about to make a journey,” he said, “we wish you a safe trip and send you off with our support and love.”
They said their good-byes, exchanged hugs, and Ian started back home. As dominant as his experiences with Katerina were in his consciousness those days, on this long trip home, all Ian could think about was how fortunate he was to have two such dear friends in his life.
Continued next week, Eyes of Another
Installment 18 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).
Birthday
After finding the paper on which he had written the Sacred Vow shared between Katerina and himself, Ian was enraptured for the rest of the week. Later in the week, Liz called, asking him to come to a party for Djalma’s twenty-seventh birthday. Ian was honored by the invitation and quite interested in meeting some of Djalma’s other friends. Liz was a normal enough sort of person, but Ian was certain that friends from Djalma’s inner circle would prove to be some entertainingly unusual characters.
When Ian arrived a bit early for the party that weekend, Liz’s car was the only one in the drive. Perhaps the rest of Djalma’s friends all live in the woods nearby, Ian speculated.
Liz was opening the door as Ian reached it.
“It’s so good to see you again, Liz.” He handed her a vase of bright purple Japanese lilies. “These are for you.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Come in.” She kissed his cheek as they embraced. “Let me take your jacket.”
Ian followed as she headed for the dining room. “I hope my being early isn’t inconvenient for you. Is there anything I can do to help you get ready for the party?”
“No inconvenience, and I’m all prepared for our gathering. Djalma is here.”
As they stepped through the dining room door, Djalma rose from his seat at the table. Ian’s two friends had already been having tea. The table was dressed beautifully, in just Liz’s style, with a number of tea snacks, though Ian thought the amount of food was rather modest for a party.
“Happy birthday, Djalma.” Ian stepped forward and offered his hand.
“Thank you, Ian. It’s good to see you again. I hope you had a good trip.”
Ian hadn’t fully realized it before, but Djalma had very kind eyes, the eyes of a wise, old man, clear and bright but gentle, and with an undeniable expression of loving concern. Concentrating on those eyes, Ian didn’t notice at first that Djalma was not releasing his hand.
“It was a good drive,” Ian said. The next thing he said came without thought. As Ian stood looking into Djalma’s eyes, he said, “And it’s very good to see you again.”
Djalma smiled and let go of Ian’s hand.
Ian stepped back and began to scan the room. There was only one more teacup on the table, so it appeared this would be a small party. Djalma’s other interesting friends would remain a mystery to Ian.
Ian gave Liz a questioning look. He suspected now that the invitation was to provide Liz and Djalma a chance to check up on him since the use of the token.
“It’s an intimate party, honey.” She smiled shyly. “You know there aren’t a lot of people who live around here during the off-season.”
Ian just nodded his head. “Yes, I know.”
Turning to Djalma, Ian handed him the present that he’d brought. “Well, I’m sorry. It looks like you won’t be getting many gifts.” Then he hesitated. “This is your birthday, isn’t it?” he said.
Djalma grinned and nodded. So Ian handed him a package.
Liz resumed her role as hostess. “Now you just sit over here. We’ve been having some Oolong tea.” She put her hand on Ian’s shoulder and directed him to the seat in front of the remaining teacup. “Is that good for you? Or would you like some green, black, or rooibos tea? Or perhaps something altogether different to drink?”
“Oolong will be wonderful, Liz.”
They took their seats, and Liz poured a cup of the tea. The hot, earthy smell of the steam rising from the cup relaxed him.
“Open your present, Djalma,” Liz said, as she passed Ian a tray or two of snacks for his choices.
The gift was a good paring knife to replace the warn knife that Ian had seen Djalma use in the cabin. The handle of the one he had was about to fall off and only a sliver of a blade remained.
“Not to deprive you of an old friend,” Ian said. “But you’ll have a replacement whenever you decide your current knife is due for retirement.”
Liz had a good laugh when she saw the contents of the box. She must have seen Djalma whittling at his herbs at some time.
Djalma laughed along with Liz, but his face was red. “Or,” he said, “one for someone else to use in helping me prepare the herbs while we talk.”
Ian felt lucky to share company with two such remarkable people. He sat back in the chair, sipped his tea and laughed with them. They had a party of three. Like little children, they laughed and joked, ate Liz’s treats, and gaily passed away several hours in good company.
They talked about what they had each been doing, books they had been reading, music they had been listening to lately. Ian had many good friends with whom he enjoyed sharing and laughing, but Liz and Djalma knew about a part of his life that he had not shared or felt he could share with anyone else. For that reason, even though these were not his oldest friends, they felt like his dearest.
The subject of Ian’s travels did not come up until Liz suddenly asked, “Have you seen Katerina lately?”
Ian looked at Djalma, who did not appear surprised. Liz and Djalma often seemed deeply in tune with each other.
Ian looked back at Liz, “Yes, I saw her again last weekend.”
Ian stepped into his sharing of the latest journey slowly. But soon the three were talking about Katerina and his visits with her as if she were a mutual friend in their physical world.
Djalma and Liz paid rapt attention to the story Ian told them of the Sacred Vow. He asked their opinions about what it all meant, but they offered few responses.
“It sounds as if you two have a very old connection,” Liz said, and Djalma agreed.
As Ian reached the end of his story, he knew it was getting late and he had to leave for home.
“Is anyone interested in a real meal?” Liz said.
“Not me, Liz. I have to start back. Tomorrow is Monday,” Ian said.
“You could take a vacation day. I have plenty of rooms, sweetie—all made up for company.”
“I wish I could, Liz. This has been wonderful.” Ian looked over at Djalma, meaning to include him as well. Djalma gave him a very focused look of seriousness, which Ian had hoped not to see this day. He knew Djalma now wanted to comment about Ian’s relationship as the paranormal thing that it was.
Ian decided to take the lead. “What is it, Djalma?”
“If you don’t mind, Ian, I need to ask: Do you feel any different than you did the last time I saw you?”
The question was easy to evade. “Well, yes. The last time I was here, I was still involved in the dark journeys. I feel better since they have ended. Remember how hard they were on my health?”
“My mistake,” Djalma said. Then after a pause, he went on. “Accounting for the recovery from the dark experiences, do you recognize any impact on yourself after these new visits?”
“After seeing Katerina this last time, I feel great. I’m telling you the truth.”
With each exchange, Djalma’s eyes became more focused, more serious. “Yes, you may feel great in your body. But what I mean is, when you’re in that relaxed place, just after the meditation ends, have you noticed even the slightest feeling of weakness or evanescence?”
“I’ve only had the meditative transfer experience twice.” Ian looked at Liz, hoping she’d interrupt. She did not. She had the same concerned look Djalma had.
“Everything is fine, Liz,” Ian said to her. He looked back at Djalma and addressed the heart of his concern, “Just what are you troubled about?”
“Though your health has improved, your energetic signature has much weakened since the last time I saw you,” he said.
Ian reacted with a defensive remark aimed at Liz. She’d been the one who had set up this meeting for a reality check that he did not want and could not now escape. “Do you think so, too?”
He immediately repented this childish response. “I am sorry, Liz,” he said.
She smiled sadly and empathetically. “You can trust Djalma,” she said.
Ian reached out to squeeze Liz’s hand and looked back to Djalma. Like it or not, Ian knew that he’d better consider what Djalma was worried about. “Tell me what you’re seeing, my friend.”
“It’s not visibly affecting your health yet,” Djalma said, “but I think it will, if the pattern continues. The materialization into other realities seems to take energy from you here. Perhaps this is because we don’t know how to guard against or restore the energy displaced in the process . . . What concerns me most is that I know of no one who can even speculate on what impact such visits would have on body or spirit, or the precautions that should be considered.”
Ian cut in. “Djalma, if there has been any negative impact, why doesn’t it impair my ability to visit Katerina? I don’t even need to use the teapot anymore.”
“I find that absolutely incredible. I wish you could tell me how you do it. Apparently, you are now able to adjust your personal resonance to create this portal, which used to take a whole roomful of energetic signatures to achieve. I’m speculating that when the collective signature of the study failed your purpose, your subconscious automatically simulated what it remembered about the experience, allowing you to continue to achieve the transfer during meditation.
“What’s most remarkable to me is that, so far as I understand it, with every reality shift, your signature should be greatly changed, requiring your subconscious to recalculate the proper resonance to achieve the desired end for each additional attempt. I hope you’ll someday be able to teach me how you do that.”
“I’ll be glad to,” Ian responded, “as soon as I have some idea of what I’m doing! Do you have any suggestions on how to overcome the displacement of energy?”
“I wish I did, Ian. As I said before, you’re doing something outside my scope of understanding. The only thing I know that would help is to stop materializing in her reality—”
Ian looked sharply across the table, and Djalma continued, “—which I’m sure you’re not going to consider. I can’t honestly say I would do so if I was in your position.”
Ian smiled, glad for the understanding.
“I can only imagine the connection with Katerina that you’re feeling inside,” Djalma went on. “It doesn’t surprise me that such an experience would lead you to risk your health and the stability of your mind. If I may, I’d like to offer a few things you might wish to consider further.”
“Anything that you think will help.”
“You’re not making these trips by your own spirit’s efforts alone,” Djalma began. “I am as convinced as you are about the connection you and Katerina have. This being so, if you continue to go down a path that eventually causes you harm, you certainly risk harming your link to Katerina and possibly also Katerina herself.
“It’s not only this one manifestation of Katerina with which you share the connection. Remember, you have now had a visit that seems to be the two of you as a couple simultaneously occurring in another reality. There could be many, many more expressions of your bond out there. Before I met you, I would have said that what you are doing is no more than a theoretical possibility. After seeing what you experience, my concern is that we cannot tell what impact this journeying might have on other lives, not only you and Katerina. Through the interconnected ties that bind us all, if you recklessly bring yourself to harm, who knows how many others of us may feel the effects?”
Ian sank back into his chair to consider the options. “You know that I cannot stop visiting her, Djalma. What other choices do I have?”
Liz had come around behind Ian’s chair and laid her hands on his shoulders. Feeling her supportive touch, he took a deep breath.
Djalma continued, “I can only suggest you don’t try to rush the period of recovery between each trip. You will definitely need to do some healing, and although your recuperative talent seems exceptional at this time, you must give yourself the full measure of rest that you might need.
“Your spirit may need considerable time for recalibrating the necessary energetic emanation after each journey. Should you force the next transfer before that calibration is ready or your energy is properly restored, you could end up lost somewhere in the transition. We would not be able to help you from this side and Katerina might not be able to find you.”
Ian silently considered the implications of Djalma’s words. From the look in his eyes, Ian could tell what he was about to impart next was very important.
“Now, this is purely intuition on my part. I have no other justification, but please remember it. If you run into any trouble, hold onto that piece of paper with the vow you expressed in the writing, which you and Katerina both possess. That could be most important.”
Djalma got up from his chair and gave Ian a big smile. “Just like any friend about to make a journey,” he said, “we wish you a safe trip and send you off with our support and love.”
They said their good-byes, exchanged hugs, and Ian started back home. As dominant as his experiences with Katerina were in his consciousness those days, on this long trip home, all Ian could think about was how fortunate he was to have two such dear friends in his life.
Continued next week, Eyes of Another
Last week, Sacred Vow
copyright 2006 CG Walters
C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.
Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version
Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, Gaia, Myspace, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg
copyright 2006 CG Walters
C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.
Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author– or purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version
Please join me as a friend at any of my other favorite hangouts: Facebook, Gaia, Myspace, StumbleUpon, Friendfeed, Twitter, Plurk, or Digg
Friday, November 2, 2007
Djalma : Mystic
(excerpt from Sacred Vow © C.G. Walters)
"First of all, you are comfortable, are you not, with the idea that everything is made up of energy, and the physical world is an illusion?" Djalma asked.
"Sure," Ian responded. "In theory, anyway."
Djalma spoke quietly, his eyes intently focused on Ian's face. "Though not often experienced as you have recently, it is more than theory. It is so. How are you with the concept of infinite realities?"
Ian defaulted to an attempt at humor. "I like it, but no more than a couple nights a week."
Djalma's smile still conveyed seriousness.
"Sorry," Ian said. "Just what do you mean?"
"There is a single, all-encompassing energy field, call it the Whole or the Absolute. Within this infinitude are a limitless number of overlapping subsets, let's say segmented fields, that vibrate at unique ranges of frequencies. Each field is a separate reality, which more often than not remains unseen by any of the inhabitants of the other fields because of the frequency differences between them."
"Everything that appears to be physical within a subset of a specific reality adds a unique energetic signature onto the base resonance of that field, while remaining within the defined range of that field." Djalma waited to make sure Ian was following.
Ian could see that his confusion was not going to dissipate in the near future. So he nodded once, to suggest that Djalma go on.
"We may have to come back to this wider scope, but for now let's focus specifically on a single reality-our illusory, ‘physical' reality. At the very least, those things we perceive as material will resonate according to their molecular makeup," Djalma continued. "From there, every entity gives off emanations based on what it has experienced, no matter if it is physical or not, sentient or not. In addition to this vibration, those entities, which we recognize as living, stir in their own personality or nature, which can be, for example, predatory, genteel, or whatever. Additionally, the resonance one picks up from self-aware entities is very affected by their individual assessments of their own experience and by their sense of self."
Ian was glad to drop the implications of those other fields, subsets, or whatever Djalma wanted to call them. Even with limiting his focus to his own reality, what Djalma was presenting was giving Ian a bit of psychological discomfort. Sure, Ian accepted such things as scientific fact, but he had not expected to deal with them in his personal life.
Djalma kept working with the roots and herbs. "Some people are completely unresponsive to these psychic emanations. Almost always, their total imperceptivity indicates a psychology of disassociation, dangerous to the individual and those that share their world, known and unknown. Such a lack of responsiveness should be corrected. Most people have some degree of sensitivity, which varies, depending on the situation and the range of vibrations they are naturally attuned to.
"These vibrations provoke the feeling of otherwise unwarranted pleasure you might experience when you meet certain people, or the sudden weakness that may come over you in a particular environment. When acquiring possessions, we're sometimes attracted by the resonance of the item, rather than by its more commonly perceptible characteristics. These emanations continue to affect us, and their surrounding environment, after we acquire the piece."
The implications of what Djalma was saying began to overwhelm Ian. "That would suggest we take on an enormous liability every time we choose a prospective possession!" he burst out.
Djalma looked around the room, and then said casually, "Rarely is there any need to be apprehensive. Most people are engaged in some degree of the same type of choosing based on the emanations that people and things give off. Russian roulette alchemy, if you will. Fortunately, the cylinder of this theoretical revolver has an infinite number of chambers, providing minimal odds for any perceivable alteration within the so-called normal reality, much less any threat to an individual."
"If that is the case, how do you explain what I have been experiencing?" Ian demanded.
With the equanimity one would expect of a person with his apparent achievements despite his youth, Djalma picked up the distress in Ian's tone. He smiled as if he knew that Ian was asking to quiet his own fear. "Perhaps it's just the luck of the draw. Lightning has to hit somewhere every time it strikes."
Ian stared hard at Djalma. He wanted answers, not just to have Djalma offer vague speculations.
Djalma responded to Ian's unspoken plea, "Theoretically, if one was able to attune one's personal resonance to another range, another channel, say, such a person could slip from one reality to another.
"In your case, I'm inclined to believe that some part of your deeper self has been pursuing this kind of access for many years. Perhaps up until now your quest has been exclusively subconscious. It's possible that the process has taken all the previous energetic mixes in order for these visits to happen. In addition, your conscious mind may have been going through preparation, so to speak, so that it could perceive what has happened.
" Perhaps your subconscious was always experimenting, armed with no more than a desired result." Djalma rose and took the pot of root mix over to the stove.
. . .
With his pot of herbs simmering, Djalma came back to sit across from Ian. "Remember back when we were talking about a base range of resonance within a reality or field? Just as everything has its unique energy signature, a grouping of items within a certain space near each other will combine to produce a collective signature. To varying degrees, almost always unintelligibly, these collective signatures affect the reality experienced by anyone within the scope of their influence.
"Most people aren't sensitive enough to perceive even a fairly wide range of fluctuation from the base emanation of their own field of reality. Those who do sometimes perceive such fluctuations rarely interpret their resulting experience as anything more than a gut feeling, maybe the hair standing up on the back of their neck for no apparent reason. Sometimes a particular area has such a strong collective signature that even the general populace will acknowledge the location as possessing some preternatural influence. The usual extreme end of the spectrum would be widely experienced apparitions in the area."
"Are you saying Katerina is a ghost?" Ian cut in.
"Not at all," Djalma responded.
. . .
Djalma slowly shook his head, and waited for Ian to relax enough to take in what he was about to say.
"
Whether by the unlikely accident or subconscious intention," Djalma said, "I'm content that you have constructed a collective signature within your study that is affecting your perceived reality-or rather, periodically expanding your perception of reality.
"Now remember I said the different fields or realities are almost always invisible to each other because of differing base frequency ranges." This time Djalma waited as if for a response from Ian, giving him a questioning look.
Concluding that they would not go forward otherwise, Ian offered a cautious "Yes."
Satisfied, Djalma smiled and continued, "More than just unveiling something from the sensory fringes of our shared reality field, the collective signature of your study seems to have created a vibrational doorway, making it possible for you to move into another reality, an alternate or parallel life.
"There are an inestimable number of realities, overlapping the very space of this room and even our very bodies. We never become aware of them, though these worlds appear just as substantial to their occupants as we believe ours to be. Only the most achieved Masters and Adepts expand their consciousness sufficiently to achieve a glimpse across these boundaries. It requires a very precise balance of vibrational signatures, external and/or internal, to perform such a pass-through.
"It's almost impossible to stumble across exactly the right combination to produce such an access. Even though you were not consciously aware of it, you did not stumble across this doorway. I believe your visitor is not a result of chance."
"Expanded perception," Ian said, "would explain my ability to see her world, to see her there, but how does that explain my own experience of traveling to her world or reality?"
"It's not traveling, really," Djalma replied. "That's a concept of the illusory physical realm-moving your form from one place to another-that your analyzing conscious mind has imposed on the experience, to make what is happening more comfortable, more familiar."
"Travel seems an apt description," Ian said. "I am here, and then I perceive myself, although not really solidly, in her reality. She has also traveled to my study.
"I can comprehend that what I see of Katerina could be just a visual projection into my room, a holograph, but my experience in her world is that I have something like a bodily presence there, just as I do right here."
Djalma smiled. "Well . . . actually you are neither here nor there."
Semantics are not helping, Ian thought.
Undisturbed by Ian's stern expression, Djalma smiled and continued, "Technically, we are not here. We are not physical. But we are an illusion of physicality, a manifestation of our consciousness, from energy.
"The energetic doorway in your study is doing more than just expanding your ability to see into this parallel reality. The experience could have been limited there. But your doorway appears to have allowed you at least a partial transfer, or fluctuation, between two separate reality fields . . . what you are referring to as traveling. Your ability to perceive this other reality makes it as real and accessible as the one you and I interact in
right now. After all, what is reality except the ‘perception of choice' at any given time?
You are manifesting a reference point for your consciousness, a body-even if not conventionally physical-in that place. You are in both places."
**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.
Copyright 2007 CG Walters
This is my truth. Only you can determine if there is any value in it for you.
C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives. His current novel, Sacred Vow is a metaphysical novel about a man who responds to the mysterious call of [his soulmate], opening the way to redefinition of both himself and his understanding of the world around him…Highly recommended. —Midwest Book Review.
Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
In celebration of CG’s upcoming non-fiction book, Strike a Chord of Silence, for a limited time autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available for $4.00US plus shipping!
Purchase a signed paperback copy from http://sacredvow.dragonsbeard.com/ – or buy from your favorite brick and mortar, or online store (Amazon.com ). Purchase Sacred Vow as ebook http://www.mobipocket.com/en/eBooks/eBookDetails.asp?BookID=79405&Origine=3971 or the Amazon Kindle version
This copyrighted article may be freely reprinted as long as the entire article and complete by line is included, without additions.
Thanks to Missy Frye Just Write BlogCarnival (edition one) , Clary Lopez Books Carnival - December 2, 2007 , JM Scribes Blog Carnival , and Katelyn Thomas Medium Dreams January 2008 Carnival of the Odd for featuring this article in their carnivals.
"First of all, you are comfortable, are you not, with the idea that everything is made up of energy, and the physical world is an illusion?" Djalma asked.
"Sure," Ian responded. "In theory, anyway."
Djalma spoke quietly, his eyes intently focused on Ian's face. "Though not often experienced as you have recently, it is more than theory. It is so. How are you with the concept of infinite realities?"
Ian defaulted to an attempt at humor. "I like it, but no more than a couple nights a week."
Djalma's smile still conveyed seriousness.
"Sorry," Ian said. "Just what do you mean?"
"There is a single, all-encompassing energy field, call it the Whole or the Absolute. Within this infinitude are a limitless number of overlapping subsets, let's say segmented fields, that vibrate at unique ranges of frequencies. Each field is a separate reality, which more often than not remains unseen by any of the inhabitants of the other fields because of the frequency differences between them."
"Everything that appears to be physical within a subset of a specific reality adds a unique energetic signature onto the base resonance of that field, while remaining within the defined range of that field." Djalma waited to make sure Ian was following.
Ian could see that his confusion was not going to dissipate in the near future. So he nodded once, to suggest that Djalma go on.
"We may have to come back to this wider scope, but for now let's focus specifically on a single reality-our illusory, ‘physical' reality. At the very least, those things we perceive as material will resonate according to their molecular makeup," Djalma continued. "From there, every entity gives off emanations based on what it has experienced, no matter if it is physical or not, sentient or not. In addition to this vibration, those entities, which we recognize as living, stir in their own personality or nature, which can be, for example, predatory, genteel, or whatever. Additionally, the resonance one picks up from self-aware entities is very affected by their individual assessments of their own experience and by their sense of self."
Ian was glad to drop the implications of those other fields, subsets, or whatever Djalma wanted to call them. Even with limiting his focus to his own reality, what Djalma was presenting was giving Ian a bit of psychological discomfort. Sure, Ian accepted such things as scientific fact, but he had not expected to deal with them in his personal life.
Djalma kept working with the roots and herbs. "Some people are completely unresponsive to these psychic emanations. Almost always, their total imperceptivity indicates a psychology of disassociation, dangerous to the individual and those that share their world, known and unknown. Such a lack of responsiveness should be corrected. Most people have some degree of sensitivity, which varies, depending on the situation and the range of vibrations they are naturally attuned to.
"These vibrations provoke the feeling of otherwise unwarranted pleasure you might experience when you meet certain people, or the sudden weakness that may come over you in a particular environment. When acquiring possessions, we're sometimes attracted by the resonance of the item, rather than by its more commonly perceptible characteristics. These emanations continue to affect us, and their surrounding environment, after we acquire the piece."
The implications of what Djalma was saying began to overwhelm Ian. "That would suggest we take on an enormous liability every time we choose a prospective possession!" he burst out.
Djalma looked around the room, and then said casually, "Rarely is there any need to be apprehensive. Most people are engaged in some degree of the same type of choosing based on the emanations that people and things give off. Russian roulette alchemy, if you will. Fortunately, the cylinder of this theoretical revolver has an infinite number of chambers, providing minimal odds for any perceivable alteration within the so-called normal reality, much less any threat to an individual."
"If that is the case, how do you explain what I have been experiencing?" Ian demanded.
With the equanimity one would expect of a person with his apparent achievements despite his youth, Djalma picked up the distress in Ian's tone. He smiled as if he knew that Ian was asking to quiet his own fear. "Perhaps it's just the luck of the draw. Lightning has to hit somewhere every time it strikes."
Ian stared hard at Djalma. He wanted answers, not just to have Djalma offer vague speculations.
Djalma responded to Ian's unspoken plea, "Theoretically, if one was able to attune one's personal resonance to another range, another channel, say, such a person could slip from one reality to another.
"In your case, I'm inclined to believe that some part of your deeper self has been pursuing this kind of access for many years. Perhaps up until now your quest has been exclusively subconscious. It's possible that the process has taken all the previous energetic mixes in order for these visits to happen. In addition, your conscious mind may have been going through preparation, so to speak, so that it could perceive what has happened.
" Perhaps your subconscious was always experimenting, armed with no more than a desired result." Djalma rose and took the pot of root mix over to the stove.
. . .
With his pot of herbs simmering, Djalma came back to sit across from Ian. "Remember back when we were talking about a base range of resonance within a reality or field? Just as everything has its unique energy signature, a grouping of items within a certain space near each other will combine to produce a collective signature. To varying degrees, almost always unintelligibly, these collective signatures affect the reality experienced by anyone within the scope of their influence.
"Most people aren't sensitive enough to perceive even a fairly wide range of fluctuation from the base emanation of their own field of reality. Those who do sometimes perceive such fluctuations rarely interpret their resulting experience as anything more than a gut feeling, maybe the hair standing up on the back of their neck for no apparent reason. Sometimes a particular area has such a strong collective signature that even the general populace will acknowledge the location as possessing some preternatural influence. The usual extreme end of the spectrum would be widely experienced apparitions in the area."
"Are you saying Katerina is a ghost?" Ian cut in.
"Not at all," Djalma responded.
. . .
Djalma slowly shook his head, and waited for Ian to relax enough to take in what he was about to say.
"
Whether by the unlikely accident or subconscious intention," Djalma said, "I'm content that you have constructed a collective signature within your study that is affecting your perceived reality-or rather, periodically expanding your perception of reality.
"Now remember I said the different fields or realities are almost always invisible to each other because of differing base frequency ranges." This time Djalma waited as if for a response from Ian, giving him a questioning look.
Concluding that they would not go forward otherwise, Ian offered a cautious "Yes."
Satisfied, Djalma smiled and continued, "More than just unveiling something from the sensory fringes of our shared reality field, the collective signature of your study seems to have created a vibrational doorway, making it possible for you to move into another reality, an alternate or parallel life.
"There are an inestimable number of realities, overlapping the very space of this room and even our very bodies. We never become aware of them, though these worlds appear just as substantial to their occupants as we believe ours to be. Only the most achieved Masters and Adepts expand their consciousness sufficiently to achieve a glimpse across these boundaries. It requires a very precise balance of vibrational signatures, external and/or internal, to perform such a pass-through.
"It's almost impossible to stumble across exactly the right combination to produce such an access. Even though you were not consciously aware of it, you did not stumble across this doorway. I believe your visitor is not a result of chance."
"Expanded perception," Ian said, "would explain my ability to see her world, to see her there, but how does that explain my own experience of traveling to her world or reality?"
"It's not traveling, really," Djalma replied. "That's a concept of the illusory physical realm-moving your form from one place to another-that your analyzing conscious mind has imposed on the experience, to make what is happening more comfortable, more familiar."
"Travel seems an apt description," Ian said. "I am here, and then I perceive myself, although not really solidly, in her reality. She has also traveled to my study.
"I can comprehend that what I see of Katerina could be just a visual projection into my room, a holograph, but my experience in her world is that I have something like a bodily presence there, just as I do right here."
Djalma smiled. "Well . . . actually you are neither here nor there."
Semantics are not helping, Ian thought.
Undisturbed by Ian's stern expression, Djalma smiled and continued, "Technically, we are not here. We are not physical. But we are an illusion of physicality, a manifestation of our consciousness, from energy.
"The energetic doorway in your study is doing more than just expanding your ability to see into this parallel reality. The experience could have been limited there. But your doorway appears to have allowed you at least a partial transfer, or fluctuation, between two separate reality fields . . . what you are referring to as traveling. Your ability to perceive this other reality makes it as real and accessible as the one you and I interact in
right now. After all, what is reality except the ‘perception of choice' at any given time?
You are manifesting a reference point for your consciousness, a body-even if not conventionally physical-in that place. You are in both places."
**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.
Copyright 2007 CG Walters
This is my truth. Only you can determine if there is any value in it for you.
C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives. His current novel, Sacred Vow is a metaphysical novel about a man who responds to the mysterious call of [his soulmate], opening the way to redefinition of both himself and his understanding of the world around him…Highly recommended. —Midwest Book Review.
Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
In celebration of CG’s upcoming non-fiction book, Strike a Chord of Silence, for a limited time autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available for $4.00US plus shipping!
Purchase a signed paperback copy from http://sacredvow.dragonsbeard.com/ – or buy from your favorite brick and mortar, or online store (Amazon.com ). Purchase Sacred Vow as ebook http://www.mobipocket.com/en/eBooks/eBookDetails.asp?BookID=79405&Origine=3971 or the Amazon Kindle version
This copyrighted article may be freely reprinted as long as the entire article and complete by line is included, without additions.
Thanks to Missy Frye Just Write BlogCarnival (edition one) , Clary Lopez Books Carnival - December 2, 2007 , JM Scribes Blog Carnival , and Katelyn Thomas Medium Dreams January 2008 Carnival of the Odd for featuring this article in their carnivals.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Serialization of Sacred Vow: Sacred Vow
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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