Continued from the last post…
My whole body shook.It was like a volcano that erupted from my gut, up through my heart, and then came out with sound breath. I didn’t understand why I was crying, just that is what was happening.
I wiped away tears in my now swollen red eyes and glanced over at Sri, who was still sitting in the small couch across the room. I then saw him shake his body like a dog does after it has had a bath. Instead of the golden fur he had worn the entire time I had known him in this form, as he shook his coat he transformed into the body and fur of what had been my favorite cat Paasche who had lived for fourteen years. His long coat was a chalky white except for a beautiful black plume tail and a little black area in between his ears and one black spot on his side. He was a breed called the Turkish Van.
Paasche was my favorite cat, and I have had several cat companions over the years. He cuddled up with me when I felt pain, such as recovering from major surgery. He would purr and curl up beside me and somehow soothe me and ease the pain. On cold winter evenings, I could count on Paasche to settle in on my lap, curl up and fall asleep for hours. Paasche would talk to me and ask to go outside to chase the squirrels. When he transitioned from TV world, it left a big hole in my heart.
But here, Sri changed his appearance and became my beloved Paasche. A mental part of my brain knew it was Sri and not Paasche, although he now looked like, felt like, acted like, and even smelled like my dear sweet cat that I hadn’t held in years.
Sri/Paasche hopped down from the couch, held his plume tail up high in the air, and came over to me. He hopped up into my lap as I continued to cry. Sri curled up in my lap and purred loudly. I could hear the purrs and felt the strong vibrations of his purrs radiating on my lap and against my chest.
After what felt like an hour, my sobbing ended yet I continued to pet Sri and feel the love I had for Paasche. I finally asked, “Please tell me, what happened? What was going on with this experience?”
Because Sri was telepathic, he could continue to purr as he spoke. This only added to my healing and comfort.
“As you already know, the healing pool affects anyone who steps into the liquid. You held some parts of you that still needed to be healed. You mourned the loss of being able to carry children in TV world. That transition in women is natural, but frequently there is no honoring of that transition in your culture. It is often seen as a failure, or step into worthlessness in a culture where creating and raising children is held with such high esteem. So in part, the healing pool helped you grieve and celebrate the transition to a new phase in life. Also, remember, Here is not TV world. It is possible for you to have children here at some time if that is best for you and the child so desires. Anything is possible here.”
I felt a leap of joy deep within somewhere. I had never had children in my life in TV world, although had been married for thirty years. I had explored the adoption process several years prior but had not been successful in that pursuit. I had a medical condition where I only experienced miscarriages and no children, and had watched friends and family create and expand their families. So There, in the living room of my stone cottage with Sri on my lap, I allowed myself to grieve and to be healed from that.
Sri continued. “Your heart still held a place that needed healing from your childhood as well. You had held on to that pain because it gave you strength, actually. By creating a little shell around a part of your heart, you became strong, independent, and could survive whatever trauma or issues presented themselves to you. What you actually were doing at those moments is you were drawing those experiences to you, and you were testing your strength to ward them off.”
The image of Wonder Woman popped into my head just then. Yes, she had been a childhood fan and role model for me. I would use those magic arm bands and stop any bullets of criticisms, shame, or hatred that were flung my way and send them flying away from me.
“You became so good at this process of attracting the bullets and sending them flying that you learned to protect your heart in a very deep place. As a result, it was very difficult for others with loving intentions to get to that deep place as well.”
I knew in my heart that Sri was right. I had learned to protect myself so well that I was also very good at keeping others away. My heart opens some for a few people, but is pretty cl was closed for many others.
But There, as I sat in the overstuffed chair with Sri on my lap, I felt my heart open up more. I felt a warmth stream in and light fill my insides. That vortex I experienced in the pool was my heart opening up finally and totally to receive and send love. There was no longer a need to have the metal box around my heart or the bullet fighting arm bands.
“Now what?” I asked Sri. “What’s next for me? I feel I’m only partially done with this process.”
“What you need is a nice bath, and I know just the place.” Sri stood up and stretched his front legs and arched his back. I interpreted his stretching as a cat version of a runner’s stretch. He still was in the form of my beloved cat Paasche with his big black plume of a tail. He then stood and looked at me expectantly then quietly turned from me in the living room.
Sri walked through the kitchen and out the back door onto the deep shaded porch past inviting chairs and hammocks which were set out and ready for my next guests, whomever they would be when the time as right. I followed close behind. There was a small path from the porch that led back into the woods about fifteen feet away. I could hear a waterfall even from the porch, the same waterfall I had explored some time earlier.
Sri trotted on ahead down the path in the woods. He was easy to keep track of with his chalk colored coat, unlike the previous Sri form where he would blend his surroundings like a jungle cat. Mountain Laurel, a cousin of the Rhododendron was in bloom so the path was lined with beautiful white flowering bushes against a dark green background. The air was filled with the music of song birds. About five minutes later we were at the waterfall, which had a nice pool forming at the bottom.
Sri motioned me with a paw and nodded his head inviting me to go into the pool. I pulled off my tunic, folded it, and placed it on a wide, flat, sunny rock that overhung the pool area. I jumped in feet first, not knowing how deep the water would be.
I instantly was over my head in the water. Being completely naked, I could feel the water touch every part of my skin, even those places the older folk would say, “where the sun doesn’t shine.” But There, in the pool, with only Sri as company, I was in my altogether. The cool water was quite a contrast to the warm summer air. It was cool, but not so cold to make me shiver. I bobbed back to the surface and swam over to the little waterfall and put myself in the stream. The water was only about two feet deep there, so siting in it, the water came up someplace on my upper chest area.
The current wanted to push me downstream, but I found some smooth boulders in the stream where I could position my feet and legs so I stayed more or less in the same spot.
The continuous water flow filled my ears and heart. It was very difficult to think of anything else while There in the water. The music of the birds in the woods was drowned out, leaving me with just the water sounds.
Because Sri spoke telepathically, I could hear him in my head. “Now look closely at the water. What do you see?”
I looked and saw a rainbow of color and flashes of sunlight dancing over the water.
“Look deeper,“ he instructed.
I concentrated my attention and started to see what best looked like dancing snowflakes of the water molecules. It reminded me of the experiments Masaru Emoto had where he froze water specimens and analyzed them under the microscope. These were dazzling, tiny moving water snowflake shapes, (I’ll call waterflakes) spinning and rotating round each other in a dance.
“Why are they doing that?” I asked. I remembered Masaru Emoto’s images of water where they were frozen into one shape.
“The water is conscious. But why not you ask it yourself more about what is happening.”
I opened my mind and heart some more. I felt a warmth in my heart area and pressure in the space above my eyes on my forehead. I asked the water in a sing-song phrase in my head, “I am you, you are me, we are one eternally. Let me see what you see.”
I had an image pop into my head where the water flowed from a deep cavern underground, from a chamber filled with tall crystals. The place reminded me of those crystal caves you can visit as a tourist in TV world with all the stalactites and stalagmites. The water swirled around the crystals which vibrated with love and joy and even celebration and tumbled over waterfalls made of crystal before the water found openings at the surface near where I was.
I then saw the waterflakes again with different shapes dancing in the water. I looked deeper and observed a single waterflake. It was filled with a complex six sided geometric pattern. As if I had a zoom lens in my head, I zoomed in a thousand times more and saw interlocking spheres spinning and moving. I zoomed in a thousand more times and saw an individual molecule of water spinning and moving and vibrating. Happy. That’s the word that came to mind. The water was happy.
I zoomed in further a million times more and saw yet another detailed six sided geometric shape made of interlocking spheres again. Each of these appeared to be like a shape called the egg of life, which is a circle with six overlapping circles within it. Although, instead of being flat as shown in many diagrams, these circles were spheres. The little spheres were all humming and vibrating in unison. One set of the spheres were all vibrating with the frequency of love. Another set was vibrating with the frequency of joy. I glanced around and others still were vibrating even higher with a frequency of celebration.
So there I was, immersed in the water, with a waterfall hitting my head and back like a beautiful cool whirlpool bath, and having billions of tiny sparks of vibrating water components. I was being bathed in frequency and light there in that pool of water.
After about an hour of that, I pulled myself out of the pool and sat on the warmed big flat rock. The sun streamed in through the trees and I sat there drying myself in the sun. I felt both exhausted and refreshed, which is an interesting combination. I felt exhausted from the constant water pulsing. Even out of the water, I could still feel ghosts of it hitting my back and head. It reminds me of the effect after being on a small boat for several hours. You get out of the boat and still feel the rocking motion even though you are on dry land. In this case, it was the feeling of being hit by billions of tiny particles of love, joy, and celebration.
Now dried off, I pulled my tunic back on. I looked around and Sri had disappeared, perhaps to go do cat things. I walked back to my stone cottage and felt exhausted. All I wanted to do was take a nap. I saw an inviting hammock swinging in the breeze gently when I got back to the porch and rolled myself into it. I closed my eyes and felt the sway of the hammock cradling me.
I woke up in TV world. My alarm hadn’t gone off on my tablet I use as an alarm clock. I glanced at the tablet, and the time was “stuck” at 5:50 am, or five minutes before when I normally wake up. Then as I looked at the tablet, the time suddenly jumped to 6:11 am and the alarm went off.
Interesting. This was not the first time that my digital clock went weird on me. Maybe I need to get a mechanical alarm clock.
The journey continues.