Saturday, July 26, 2008

A Story

I don’t talk about this very often. There are pages at my other sites, static pages, pages that are done, where the information has been set out. But, folks don’t go there very often and I figure that maybe, just maybe you’d like to hear a story today.

I was normal up until the time I turned 35. It was during that year that I’d quit my job and declared myself to be a writer. No more secretarial work for me. No, siree. I’d spent the last 3 years hammering out a three-hanky tear jerker, swash-buckling, romance, fantasy novel. No way I could go back to being a 9 to 5 secretary after I’d finally done that. I would continue to write. On a new project. A brand new book. I was off and running and nobody could stop me now.

Right. I got a major case of instant writer’s block. It was sort of frightening because the job was long gone and I wasn’t doing much. Then, circumstances changed a bit and I got sick. I mean I don’t remember being this sick. It was the summer cold to end all summer colds. I was coughing and snorting and feverish and plumb totally miserable. Did I go to the doctor? No. It was just a cold. But, I was really disturbing my husband’s sleep. Also, my sleep patterns were all screwed up. I dozed and slept during the day and at night I was all restless and making noise. So, I moved my operations out to the living room sofa at night so he could sleep and continue to report for duty at the job he still had.

I got tired of watching tv. I hadn’t watched daytime tv in 20 years and I got my fill of it again. What to do now? I had writer’s block and I was sick and tired of tv. I was sort of on the mend by that time. I guess it was a week into my sick. But, I still felt pretty miserable. I wanted to read something.

I decided to go to the library and pick up some Stephen King books. I’d only read the one, “The Stand” a few months before. I liked it so much I read it in 3 days over a weekend. I’d never read any Stephen King before that. I’d just been plain scared. Didn’t watch his movies and didn’t read his books. No, siree. Too scary for me.

But, I’d loved, “The Stand”. That sucker weighs 5 pounds. It’s a big book. It took him twelve years to write and this is a guy who can churn out a book a year. I was in love.

So, I went to the library. I had to ride the bus because we only had the one car and my husband had taken it to go to work. I tried not to pass my cold onto anybody else. I covered my mouth and turned my head when I felt a coughing fit come on. I tried not to even look at anybody. I swept the shelves at the library of books by Stephen King. As much as I could carry. It must have been 6 or 7 of them.

And, a week later I was back for more. He’s written so much that finding that many more books by him wasn’t too hard to do. He’s a prolific writer. He’s a successful writer. He’s a very, very good writer.

And, a week later I was back for more.

I over dosed on books by Stephen King. I remember the first thing that happened was I saw the numbers 222 on the microwave. The first time I saw it I didn’t think too much of it. It was sort of interesting to see three numbers in a sequence like that. The second time was a little unsettling. The third time and I started getting freaked out. In the years that have come and gone since I was 35 (I’m 53 at the time of this writing) I have seen 222 many times. A day doesn’t go by and I notice it somewhere. I don’t read a book, not one book that my eyes don’t fly to the page number as I light on page 222. But, back to when it first started happening? I remember going to the grocery store and writing a check for $22.22. I remember the microwave. I called my sister to tell her about it. She called me back the next day to tell me after we’d talked she’d gone to her bank and looked up at the revolving sign that has the time on one side and the temperature on the other: 2:22.

The next thing that happened was I began having really, really vivid waking dreams. Oh, shit it was so real. The next book I was going to read was, “It”, the one with the terrible clown. I hadn’t started it yet. But, it was going to be the next one. Here’s the vision I had. I was laying on the couch not doing much of anything. Sort of doing the doze thing drifting in and out. I was not completely asleep. It was a semi sleep sort of thing. Suddenly, I’m at the front window. I’ve parted the curtains and I’m looking down our steps. Up comes this really tall, really scary guy with a fucking jack-o-lantern for a head. I jerked right wide awake.

Then, there was another vision with me looking down those same steps watching a young woman make her way up them. She’s holding onto the railing with both hands, doing one of those hand over hand movements because she’s afraid to let go. She’s dressed nicely, in a neat grey suit. She’s wearing a skirt. She looks up at me as she nears the top of the flight of steps and smiles at me. I wake up.

By now I’ve freaked. I go back to the library and start looking up ESP. Colin Wilson wrote a really thick book about it. I fan through it to find the part where he’s saying ESP is natural. ESP is normal. ESP is not something you need to be afraid of.

When we were kids we all were delightedly spooked by things ESP. Now, here as an adult I’m worried about it.

So, my journey had started. This happened and that happened and I began to read about inner journeys. I began to journal. I began to read books written by people who were channeling. Seth was one of them. I’d actually read the first Seth book, "Seth Speaks" when I was in high school and been fascinated by it. I read it again. I got into the, “Messages from Michael” books. I read, “The Magic of Findhorn”. I started, “A Course in Miracles”. I found, “Creating Money” on our bookshelf. Actually, my husband had purchased both of those books years before for himself. Now, I was reading them. But, from “Creating Money” I went on to “Opening to Channel” by Sanaya Roman and Duane Packer. That’s when the ball really started rolling down the hill.

I decided that I wanted to learn how to channel. I kept at it for a very long time. I was terrible at the exercises. I couldn’t visualize worth a crap. I couldn’t concentrate to meditate. I just didn’t seem to be able to do anything. But, I kept at it. Then, I thought to myself that I’d try something that wasn’t really recommended in the book. I’d try working a Ouija board. Who to do it with me? Who else, but my husband. And, for pity sake it worked. The planchette zoomed all over the board. We asked if this was my guide. Nope. It was DeeDude’s guide. What???? I was the one who was seeking my guide. I was the one who’d been trying for so long to make ding-donged contact with my guide and we get my husband’s guide? What’s up with that?

So, I can live with that. I couldn’t get enough of being on the board to talk to my husband’s guide. But, then, my husband doesn’t want to do it anymore. Accckkkk! What do you mean you don’t want to do it anymore? I can’t do this by myself.

Nope, doesn’t want to do it anymore. His guide doesn’t want to talk to us anymore.

Oh, shit. So, I give up. I can’t ask my neighbor to help. What would he think of me? I can’t do it myself. I go back to the blankty-blank exercises in, “Opening to Channel” that’s I’m no good at anyway. Nothing happens. Zippo. I’m getting disgusted.

It occurs to me, out of the blue one day, that maybe I can do the Ouija board by myself. That’s how they did it in, “Messages from Michael”. The channel would sit in a rocking chair by themselves with a board in their lap. Somebody off to the side would take dictation and write down what was being spelled out. If they could do it, I could too. I have in the years since found those words to be particularly magical for me: If they can do it, so can I.

Nothing happened. I would sit and wait with the planchette on the board and nothing happened. I’d pray. I’d try to meditate. I’d concentrate. Nothing happened.

I used to drag my hand around with my other hand to see what it would be like when it finally happened, just so I wouldn’t miss anything. Sort of like when you were 9 and you’d kiss your arm to see what it would feel like to actually kiss a boy on the lips.

I’d continued on with reading, “Opening to Channel” I do have to say that I did finally meet my guide. It was the Meet Your Guide exercise. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re walking on a path. Picture the path in your mind’s eye. What’s going on directly under your feet? What’s growing at the side of the path? Look ahead of you. See an obstacle (I saw a huge rock). Make your way past the obstacle (I went around it). Continue your walk. Look ahead. The path moves up on an incline. You see a gate or an opening way, way down the road. Move forward, move towards it. It was at this point in my own journey that I turned into a swallow and soared in the sky. It was pretty exhilarating. I flew past these huge humped green mountainous hills like you see in Hawaii. As I got to the gate I turned back into myself and thumped down on the ground. I looked through and saw this guy in a toga with his back to me. He was bent over doing something in a garden. There was a low stone wall there. He turned to me. Balder than a cue ball he was, but he smiled at me. He held out his hands to me and I couldn’t take my eyes off of his face. He had such a glorious smile. Then, I startled myself awake. I combed the internet looking for those green hills in Hawaii that I saw in my vision and the closest I could get was Molokai at Hawaii Pictures. It's still not quite what I saw. Mine where like green thumbs sticking up into the air. Lots of them with their sides practically vertical and covered with green. But, this picture is close.

Anyway, I practiced using the Oujia board by myself. That took 6 months. Six months of nothing happening. At the end of it I decided that I’d been wasting my time. I remember that night: I said to myself that I needed to get back to writing again. I’d been neglecting it so. But, to hedge my bets I decided to squeeze the keyboard over and put the Ouija board on the desk alongside. My left hand, my non-dominant hand could rest on the Ouija board and my right hand could do all the typing. I was a good typist. I knew where all the keys were. I could do this with one hand. So, I did. I began typing. It was certainly slower than if I were using two hands, but the thoughts were flowing. I was writing again.

My hand that was on the Ouija board zoomed. The planchette fell on the floor. I was absolutely shocked. What???? What????

I got the planchette back and set the board up and using my left hand put it back on the board. It spelled out: Seth. I asked the question, are you my guide? I got a yes. I asked the question are you the same Seth from Jane Roberts? I got a yes. After that it was just gobble gook. Just garbage. The planchette meandered all over the board. Didn’t spell anything out that I could tell. Just moved all over the place. I was thrilled. I was exhausted.

Now, a year and a half has passed since I’d quit my job. But, in November they’d called me to come back. The lady we’d hired to take my place had given two weeks notice. Now, it was February. Lots had happened since then. My husband had broken his back in January and was laid up. I was frantic. The bills were piling up. Our situation was a mess. But, I did have a job. So, I went to work the next day. When I got home the first thing I did was set up the Ouija board and we were able to talk some. It wasn’t all garbage like the day before.

Turns out I guess they were getting me ready, or used to it or something. Anyway, as time went on things got a lot faster using the Ouija board to talk to Seth. It would just zoom and zip so quickly over the board. People couldn’t read what was being said it moved so quickly. I began to anticipate what was going to be said even before the planchette hit those letters.

That’s when I said to myself that I’d gone crazy. And, that’s when my guide said to me, in my head, in my ears so that I could hear him for the first time, “Go outside. I have something important to say to you.” It was noisy in the house. The television was going. Lots of background noise. I stepped out onto the porch and Seth said, “You can hear me now.”

It was a week and a half, ten days after I’d first gotten the Ouija board to work. That was Feb 12th. So, now it was Feb 22nd. 2/22 for those folks out there remembering that this whole thing began with me seeing 222’s everywhere.

It’s been 16 years gone since that time. I’m a channel. I no longer hear the guides and Folk in Spirit through my ears. It’s a telepathic sort of thing. I can say that I talk to dead people. I also teach people to channel.

What brought this on? I just picked up Stephen Kings, “Duma Key” from the library yesterday. Big fat book. I can hardly wait.


Melissa said...

What an amazing journey and story. I am excited for you. I too have tried to find empowering books that would waken my horizons. One such book that I highly recommend is the best ghost book I have ever read. "Their Way Home", by Melissa Van Rossum. I truly understand now what happens to us after we die and so much more.

Crys said...

wow, thank you for this. so fascinating.

my father was born on Molokai; i was born on Maui. those mountains are lovely. as i was reading this i also thought of the Irish cliffs.

i have long been tempted to try the ouija board. people are so fearful of it; there are so many warnings. i read recently in James Van Praagh's new book that there's nothing wrong with the ouija board; it's about protection. sensing the higher and lower vibrations and working with the higher. you are always in control.

please, more of these!!

Anonymous said...

That was simply marvelous! You have described all this before in your website and elsewhere but the story here was so adorably fascinating! I just finished the first Seth book and was in Chicago with an artist who grew up in the Findhorn commune as a child. So lovely!