Yes
Stop. Go to your mind, Jesse commanded. Now, lose it, and see. I am not my thoughts, she repeated. Is there anything in this moment that is hurting, scaring or threatening me? No. Is it my hand that is touching the hot burner, or just my mind thinking I am? Accept the moment. What's here? The present. A present. A gift. That's it. That's all that's here. Now, love it.
She dropped to the ground which caught the attention of some nearby cows grazing in the field. Apparently, her sitting on the ground was interesting enough to them that they stopped eating for several moments, and huddled together watching her.
"Hi guys." Jesse said weakly. They didn't move. She felt herself relax, then the delicious sensation of surrender to the dragon came over her beingness. "You aren't big and mean at all, you just need love, like all of us." After several minutes watching her thoughts, she simply stopped thinking. The space in between grew and she felt light. Free. Her vulnerability turned into silliness, and she began casually conversing with the cows.
"So, I bet you're wondering why I asked you all here today...," and continued with such ramblings until she had herself giggling helplessly at the situation. "Well, I needed help with some dragons, and apparently they are afraid of cows," which sent her into a fit of laughter again. Jesse picked herself up, brushed off the dirt and the cows moved away to resume chewing grass. A couple of them looked at her and she giggled more. The giddiness of her mood surprised her, and she wondered if delirium from not eating or sleeping had set in, but her physical body felt good. She began walking toward her car, and after getting a bite to eat in the little diner, went to the phone booth and called Mel. They chatted for a few minutes, and Jesse told her where she was and why. Melanie listened to her friend's story for several minutes, then diplomatically (unusual for a Sag; Jesse was touched) suggested that if no answer was forthcoming, perhaps there was no question.
"Is this a riddle?"
"Consider it a koan." Jesse considered this as she walked for hours that day, and realized her friend was partly right. It's not that there is no question. It's that no matter the question, the answer is always: Yes. That had to be the truth, she decided and wrote in her journal:
Dear God,
Searching for the truth doesn't guarantee that I will recognize it when it is shown to me. Even when I see it repeatedly. And I am not the only one on this path, I humbly admit, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. They are all so much more than I thought they were, and if I thought feeling guilty for thinking otherwise all these years would make amends, I would ladle it up. Mind my own business; as if there isn't enough to keep me occupied. You will let me know if I'm needed, though, right?! See, I thought it was mystical when I could mold cow dung until it looked like ice cream. I felt victorious, believing I was accepting reality. I persist in judging, nudging, ranting, raving and arguing with reality until I find a way to call it good, but Beingness stops calling it anything and simply Loves What Is. The fact that I deny who I am doesn't negate the inheritance bestowed on me; the universe simply says, "I'm ready whenever you are." Abundance doesn't require nagging the tolerance right out of the universe until it finally acquiesces to our desires. It's simply about saying, "Yes, please. Thank you." To it all. Everything. Do it. Make it a game. Gamble on God. Trust, surrender. Take it all, as much as we dare desire. Be greedy. Yes, be greedy with our yeses.
Jesse felt like a different person on a different journey than the one she had been on only two days earlier. The sense of adventure she hoped would arise was fully present, and she drove with the knowledge that: You Are Not Who You Think You Are. No one is, thank God. She no longer drove with the fury of a woman running from self-created demons, dragons and devils, but with the purpose and peace of a soul who knew it was learning what it needed to learn from this time being in the requisite earthly experience. Leaving Oregon felt like putting on a once loved coat that simply did not fit and feel the way it used because I've outgrown it, Jesse noted. There is a time for everything and everything has its own time. It all comes to pass; that's why attachment is pointless. Loving detachment seemed a loftier alternative.
Joy and laughter are integral features of lightness, so it only makes sense that heaven is fun and laughter is the porthole. You can't get in heaven without it and no one enters alone. There is no secret handshake in the order of mystics, no special language or divisive doctrine. People pass gas in meditation circles, palms sweat in prayer groups, not everyone is vegetarian and truth seekers don't always tell the truth. We're all basically on a level playing field. Truth seekers just bring Feng Shui masters to properly position the players to the field. We came as one. We'll go as one. Yes, some of us may get there before the others. They'll wait. Word's out that there's a java hut just outside the gates, decaf only. One of the myths of mysticism is that it isn't a peaceful, tranquil and serene existence. On the contrary, once you ask the universe for salvation, there's going to be a fire. And perhaps a dragon or two.
"Good evening, miss."
"Hello, William, how are you?"
"Very well, thank you."
"So, what fun do you have in store for me tonight?"
Clearing his throat loudly, he answered, "Projection."
"Oh, goodie. To use your phrase, doesn't that sound like a dreary lesson."
"Touche, miss. Now, Annie has informed you that my mobile time is spent as a counselor for souls who have attempted to leave their bodies prematurely, has she not?"
"Yes."
"Now, see that light down there? Go, now, and stay fully present."
"I don't like the sound of this."
Jesse deftly swooped down to the middle aged man with the light around him, and as she approached she saw his light blinking off and on.
"How am I supposed to hold the light? It won't stay on." She said, then remembered William's words. She held out her arms, but the vibration was jumpy and she began to get a glimpse of the man's life situation. She breathed deeply, relaxing into the moment and a strength emerged that she didn't know existed, and it made holding the light easier. She was surprised when Tim appeared, and she was concerned she had done something wrong.
"Hang in there, Jesse, you're doing fine. This is a tough one."
"Do I need help holding his light? It's wearing me out, Tim, it's so jumpy. Am I doing it right?"
"Stay fully present, Jesse, you're doing fine." Tim stayed off to one side and out of view, but Jesse knew he was still there. The man's light continued to jump around like a strobe light, and Jesse closed her eyes because the jittery change from dark to light strained her eyes, and she could focus on the light energy without seeing it. She stayed there for a long time and noticed her arms growing numb from reaching out for so long. She'd never held a light, nor seen Tim hold one this long before. She opened her eyes. The man's body was different, sort of opaqued, but the light had finally settled and its energy was now even and calm. Jesse breathed in and out a few times to relax. Her arms were definitely getting weak.
"He's out, Jesse, he crossed over. You don't need to hold his light any more. You did great." Tim's words did not register and still she held her arms out.
"Tim is correct, miss, your task is complete."
"I don't understand. What happened? He died? Why was his light so jumpy and then it stayed on, but he died?" She asked with concern.
"There is no death. The light is always present. It was jumpy as you call it, because the man was locked in a projectional torrent from which he chose not to disengage, and prematurely left his body."
"You mean he committed suicide?!"
"Crude term, but yes."
"Why couldn't my holding his light help him?"
"What makes you think it didn't? Because he crossed over? Imagine how crossing over would be if there wasn't an angel present to assist. You did quite well, miss, you stayed fully present, focused on the light and most importantly, you ignored his ego's attempts at portraying you in the projection."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Well, miss, if the truth be known, me either. But I'll deny it if you tell anyone I said that." William winked. "My experience of a soul's separation from its personality is that they become mesmerized by an avalanche of projections, and actually use the light within them to illumine the negative thoughts. They are never outside of their own thinking, even about daily, mundane events. It becomes too exhausting and their vision is so obliterated they don't see any way out. They see only their pain, anger and wounds, and it literally buries their hope. They'll recover, perhaps in the next body. Most of us fall into negative thought patterns at some point; it's called ‘hell', some of us even recognize as we fall, but eventually we surface again and make our way back toward the heavenly path." He concluded matter of
factly.
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