Sunday, November 30, 2008

CelebraZine: 1st Edition

"I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”~ Maya Angelou

photo by Amor Ministries

Welcome to the repost of the First Edition of the CelebraZine (Celebration eZine) blog carnival, originally posted 03 Sept 08-posted here as the beginning of a series of a 'running carnival' (of posts both found and shared with me) that uplift and inspire.

What was a bi-weekly infusion of inspiration is becoming daily offerings of smaller installments--a daily inspiration of sayings, video, audio (music and speech), images, poetry--anything and everything that feeds the positive in heart, spirit, and mind.

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. Initially, twice a month we will put together of collection of blogs containing text, image, video, and audio from talented people empowering others and Celebrating What's Right in the World!

May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us. This first edition heavily leans toward the written celebration. I have included some of my recent favorites from across the web.

Let's start the celebration of yourself!

Video We will start off our premiere edition with Dewitt Jones’ "Celebrate What’s Right in the World” ( ) video. For those of you who do not already know, this carnival was inspired by the sublime genius of the message in this 22 minute video, provided for your viewing in conjunction with Dewitt and Starthrower.

My friend Satya-Seer presents at Satya-Seer "Life can be pretty complicated, but happiness is really quite simple." Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your video blog anytime for the upcoming daily CelebraZine, 'running carnival' of What's Right in the World.

Audio: Kala Ambrose presents Sacred Choices with Christel Nani at Explore Your Spirit with Kala In Nani’s new book, SACRED CHOICES: Thinking Outside the Tribe to Heal Your Spirit (Harmony Books), she helps identify what tribal beliefs are limiting full potential in all areas of life.

John Wolfe presents Our Origin and Purpose at The Wind of the Soul. Access the information within you.

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your audio blog/podcast anytime for the upcoming daily CelebraZine, 'running carnival' of What's Right in the World.

Text: Anand Dhillon presents 3 Easy Ways to Change Your Emotional State Instantly posted at Anand, saying, "The quality of our lives is the quality of our emotions. This article details 3 unique ways to instantly put yourself in a positive emotional state when you are feeling down."

Anja Merret presents Singing like Angels posted at anja merret. What happens to the psychology when the mindset of a 'given' is rewritten?

Axel G presents Learning To Trust posted at axel g Let's meet life and people with trust!!

Cindy Holbrook presents 21 Habits of Happy People at PickTheBrain. We’ve all seen people who are always happy – even amidst agonizing life trials. I’m not saying happy people don’t feel grief, sorrow or sadness; they just don’t let it overtake their life. The following are 21 things happy people make a habit of doing. Note: When not writing of PickTheBrain, Cindy blogs at Overcoming Life’s Obstacles.

Elaine Bolduc presents "Diamonds in the Rough" posted at Peaceful Inspirations. “The precision of the cut is what brings out the greatest beauty of the diamond.”

Henrik Edberg presents Mark Twain’s Top 9 Tips for Living a Kick-Ass Life at ThePositivityBlog. “Let us live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.”--Mark Twain

Jennifer Mannion presents Living the Law of Attraction -- Real Stories of Manifestations and Healing posted at Heal Pain Naturally. By reading "Living the Law of Attraction" you discover JUST how powerful the Law of Attraction is by real life examples.

Leo Babauta presents a great idea in Random Acts of Kindness: A Social Site I’d Love to See posted at Zen Habits. This site would be a way to do nice things for other people, and get rewarded for it.

Mary Jaksch presents What Nelson Mandela Can Teach Us About Peace at GoodLife Zen. Nelson Mandela is one of the secular saints of our times. His approach to peace can teach us how to resolve conflict in our lives. Here are 8 lessons on how to foster peace.

Todd Goldfarb presents From Caterpillar to Butterfly: A New Realm of Consciousness For Humanity at WeTheChange. Todd shares this story with you and discusses how the caterpillar’s transformation is highly symbolic with what’s going on in our world today.

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your contribution anytime for the upcoming daily CelebraZine, 'running carnival' of What's Right in the World.


photo by Matthew Fang

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your image blog/photo album anytime for the upcoming daily CelebraZine, 'running carnival' of What's Right in the World.

Please be part of spreading the positive into the world around you! If you have enjoyed or benefited by any of these encouraging perspectives, please be sure to bookmark this carnival and our contributors’ pages in your favorite service—StumbleUpon, Digg, etc. (click below). Also, let your those dear to you, your co-workers, everyone around you know What's Right in the World! It makes the world better for us all.

Submit a single submission anytime for the upcoming daily CelebraZine, 'running carnival' of What's Right in the World. or contact me concerning suggestions you'd like to see added to or featured in the upcoming pages.

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

Blessings, dear ones,


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

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

Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader

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

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Dangerous Choice

photo by h.koppdelaney

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

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

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

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

Dangerous Choice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go of me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the . . . ?” Ian screamed.

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

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

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

The two men turned to leave with their payment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continued next week, The Void

Last week, Eyes of Another

copyright 2006 CG Walters

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

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

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

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Eyes of Another

photo by alicepopkorn

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

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

Eyes of Another

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

“I love you, dear friend,” he said.

“And I, you, sweetie,” she replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continued next week, Dangerous Choice
Last week, Birthday

copyright 2006 CG Walters

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

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

Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader

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

Friday, November 14, 2008

Serialization of Sacred Vow: Birthday

photo by brian.glanz

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).


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.

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

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Sunday, November 9, 2008

Some Things You Just Know

photo by ricardo.martins

In December 1993, by many standards my life was wonderful. I was in a loving relationship. I had a secure high-tech job of almost limitless advancement potential, with one of the largest international corporations in the world. My wife, of only a few years, and I had just built the house of our dreams, in pricey though desirable countryside surroundings—where we expected to retire in due time, enjoying the fulfillment of our dreams as best we understood them at that time.

Also in December 1993, my life was failing by some standards that I could not escape. All indications of my health were that I could not long survive the ‘costs’ of our achievements. I spent most hours of my day entering
into/within/or recovering from a migraine. My blood pressure was sky high (very bad for someone with an aortic valve insufficiency). Virtually every aspect of my health seemed to offer a negative response to my attempts to push myself to achieve more, quicker, or to seek instant comfort from the effects of going ever faster, farther.

To make matters worse, I was in dire confusion about the growing conflict between how I believed I should assess my ‘achievements’ and what I actually felt inside. The more I achieved along that previously defined path of success, the emptier I felt—and the worse my health became. Fortunately, my relationship with my wife was strong. It was, however, being tested by my ravings about pursuing some unorthodox path to shake off the growing sense of meaninglessness. Kathy wanted to help, but had no better tools than I to understand what we would be trying to achieve if we did veer from the only path that we knew.

Soon, I announced to my wife, “I want to move to the mountains!” –a place that I had only visited very few times in my life, and found myself completely incompatible with due to my severe intolerance of heights (and curvy roads!). Kathy had much more history with the mountains, and loved them dearly, but was most comfortable with them as a cherished vacation destination . . . perhaps even a second-home site.

“How do you know you can live there?” she demanded, truly concerned about my reasoning and logic.

“Some things you just know,” was my spontaneous response—surprising Kathy as well as myself. I did not have any real understanding of the need to move to the mountains, but I did know.

I abruptly quit my job—certain that I could not muster the energy to survive if I went back into the office even one more time. I returned to my writing, long neglected, as an avenue to realize what it was that my spirit could not otherwise convey to my consciousness. I picked up a translation of the Tao Te Ching Though it had become lost in the background of my everyday ‘achievements,’ I always had the good fortune of a strong connection to the spirit self. Writing, countryside and nature were forever the best gateway for me to come to my center. The Taoist philosophy of the Tao Te Ching was a perfect reminder. The
land surrounding the dream home that I had come to disdain was now a willing aid in my journey back to myself.

Without my drive for an urgent solution, it took my wife another year to let go of the path that she had been well trained to believe in all her life. It was fortunate that a connection of the spirit—a joint interest in the
metaphysical—had been one of the strongest common interests between us in the beginning, even at the subdued state of our spiritual focuses at that time. We followed our intuition, even without understanding it. Releasing that familiar life was a painful time in our relationship, but it proved we had a deeper bond that we had not fully realized.

In order to stay within our budget, we purchased a boarded up place in much need of repair, attic full of snakes, in the country. Writing again took a back seat to such things as patching the roof, chopping wood, getting running water into the house.

One of many new blessings provided to us was to walk to the ridge of the
mountain range near our home—though it is a hard three hour climb. When we arrived in the area, my knees were so bad that I could barely walk stairs. Before long, the mountain had called me to the top.

Once on the top, I visited the mountain frequently, meditated many hours, listened to nature around me, and tried to attune my hearing to my higher self. Kathy and I redefined our priorities, and developed new circles of friends with focuses more compatible with our new understanding. Employment still got in the way of writing, but work chosen was more likely to tax the body than the mind and spirit.

For many years the writing waited while I came back to my center and my health. I was fortunate that the muses were not offended by my long absence. When I was in a position to understand, they renewed our conversation. One of the first things they graced me with was the knowledge that I had come to just the right place at just the right time.

Whether it is the love of your life, the life changing move to a new career/new location or a major shift in your definition of yourself, the greatest knowledge that you will ever exercise is often unjustified by your cultural experiences, your family heritage, your education or even your own logic. These are the “things that you just know,” from deep within yourself. It is a part of yourself that may seem mostly unfamiliar, but is always there…waiting until you can listen.

copyright 2007 CG Walters

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

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

Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader

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