Archive for June, 2011

Tis the bewitching hour…

June 11, 2011

6/10/11
‘Tis the bewitching hour and all is silent in the house, but the constant hum of my laptop and the swish of water as it floods the dishwasher down the hall. Charley is here at my side and his look is one of consternation, though I am uncertain why. There is a sadness about his lips that tells me something is not right in his world- or perhaps something not right in mine and I have yet to be advised of such. Regardless, I have weathered so much change of late I am all but sick from the vertigo and almost numb at my very core from caring.

I have begun the beginning…and with telling Charley’s story it is such an odd place to start. For to tell Charley‘s story right, one must begin it at the end- his end- and it is a most disturbing place to revisit. Anxious for bed and eager for the comfort of slumber from such a weary day, I bait my friend in the 8 x 10 to visit in my dreams and share a bit of knowledge so that my daylight hours can be less consumed.

It is said this month that I shall receive some hidden information- a secret to be revealed. I wait, hoping that my blind fidelity is not in vain. I have made a major overture and pray God that my information and impressions are of value and weight- else I be branded a fool. But trust is the name of the game and if I have learned nothing else… I have learned that I have not been abandoned, though often I feel as though I walk alone.

A secret tonight my dear friend.
A secret for your liberty.
A secret that will set the wheels of this great beast in motion.

Grim, you have but so few days left… call me. You know how to find me. Tell me everything or leave me to fill in the blanks as I will. The book is now underway and your identity shall figure most prominent. Oh don’t worry… I shall change the names to protect the guilty! But they will know Grim- they will all know who I am talking about. I shall give details and descriptions- right down to the color of your glass frames!

Sleep tight!

Who is the man …

June 9, 2011

Who is the man with the mole on his upper lip?
Hmmmmmmmm…I am pretty sure I know. But where does he figure into all this and why will Charley not give me the definitive nod on E or S? Or, at least a nod and a wink I can recognize. Perhaps my radar is fuzzy what with current work related issues.
Nonetheless, every time I get one clue figured out, they throw me another and so I have to sit back and ponder the following:
Is this information the answer to the last question or is this something new all together and is there a segue I can follow to be certain?
Roap maps… road maps! I need one to follow this new trail. They have mentioned someone by name. I have heard this name before from the person who cracked. What is the connection there?

How does all this play into each other. I have the frame and most of the portrait painted… It’s just the highlights that now escape me-but not for long!

I have to know for myself …

June 8, 2011

6/8/11
I am reticent to write today, knowing that once I put a specific thought/impression out there- I may ever be able to take it back. So I may wait, unless it becomes obvious throughout this discourse that my gut was right and that I have nothing to fear.
June has indeed already proven to be a month of heady change and we are but at first blush of its intent. Others have found their feathers of late and while it becomes most necessary that I applaud their diligence- I both envy and grow weary of the sight of one of my own.
Why?
I am hurt deep inside for grievances I am still yet unaware of and even as I place fingers to lips to silence- I find the words have need of escape. You see in a blog just before this the message:
“…the vodka cranberry-drink, listen to what the bartender says…”
Now, I shall remind myself of what it is that keeps me from letting this be an absolute. Firstly, I am not in the habit of going to bars. Secondly, I do not drink Vodka as a young experience with such left me much more amenable to Gin. But, that is neither the point. Last night, while searching for something to watch on TV, my husband happened across a movie he found interesting. He begged me to change from the usual historically intriguing-educationally valid-acts of God television I generally watch- if indeed I watch the TV at all and so… I acquiesced and considered to remain in the same room. It was an unknown element to me- this film- a depressing piece by the name of, “Against the Current”- alas I do not recall the credits. None the less, I was quick to vacate the room and get to my computer until the opening scene began.
It… my dear friends opened on a man having indiscriminant sex with a woman who he then unabashedly invited to leave the morning after, after staring at the photo of a young lovely pregnant woman who we can be assume is his wife and/or ex-lover. Nothing here triggered anything, so I made ready to excuse myself until this man walked into a bar in the next frame. He sat at the bar- ordered a drink- something with Vodka and so I decided to perch at the end of my chair and wait to see if anything brilliant or enlightening came out of the bartenders mouth. Two or three insults later, I surmised I had overrated the importance of the potential connection to the “Vodka/bartender information’ clue from afore and began to withdraw from the chair. Just as I got up, another character entered the scene- she too ordered a drink with Vodka and so I tucked my rear end back in the seat and waited for further instruction.
Part of the process for me is this uneasy- alert, alarm thing that happens in my gut when I know I am being drawn to something for a reason. I spent the next two hours glued to my seat waiting for words of wisdom or an impression that I could make a mental and/or emotional segue to- so that I could write off one more clue as being deciphered. To the best of my recollection there were moments of comical repartee… insightful declarations and personal confessions and while each could have been a candidate- none gave me that overwhelming gut punch that I usually get with an epiphany.
Nothing that is until the last scene, when to be quite frank, the actor said next to nothing. It was what he was doing that tore me to shreds and left me emotionally unbalanced for the remainder of the night. To briefly capture this, you must first know the premise of the movie.

A man loses his pregnant wife in a horrific traffic accident, that he believes he might have been able to prevent. Distraught, he wishes to commit suicide by jumping off the top of his apartment building- but his best friend talks him out of it- telling him time heals all wounds- to wait- give it five years and see how he feels about this life then. The bargain was that if in five years this man’s life was no better- that the friend would not only defend his right to end his life- he would support it. The anniversary date of this man’s wife and child’s death was clearly marked on the calendar in the first couple of scenes- August 28th. Oddly enough- that was my parents wedding anniversary date when they were alive. (So, you can see that there are threads which would cause me to search for connection.) The man was so in love with his wife- it hurt to watch. Flash forward, we are now five years later and the man has one request of his friend. He wants to accomplish one thing in his life before he goes- to swim the length of the Hudson River- all 150 miles of it. At the end- he wants to commit suicide, but does not divulge this part until after the friend and another female friend consent to join him and are a week or two into this project which should place him arriving at the bridge in New York on August 28th. During the course of the swim- he finally tells them his plan and they are hard pressed to dissuade him from killing himself. He even has a short tet-a-tet- with the female… but neither friend or lover are able to convince him to do otherwise. At the end of his journey, they are forced to honor his wishes and watch him swim out into the ocean… knowing that his intent is to swim until he is too tired and eventually drowns.

The only line that I can even recall is something like…
‘I made him a promise and even though I never thought I would have to back it up… I shouldn’t have made it… if I wasn’t prepared to follow it through.’
Now, there are a million promises we make to ourselves and to one another everyday… or to a hundred different people over a hundred million days of our lifetimes. Sooooo…. which promise might this have been referring to- if referring to any one of them at all? My head reeled  and at the edge of the night, I found I was no closer to the answer than at the beinning.
Was this a promise I had made to myself? To my parents-?(What with the anniversary date connection- August 28th) Was this a promise my father had made  to my mother- or my mother to him? A promise I had made to a friend…to a spouse or a child?
And if this was the message I was intended to receive-  did it have to do with my life or with my connection to Charley? The very thought made my eyes pool. I could only imagine one promise that had any natural segue to the movie and its potential connection to Charley.
To let him go when he was ready to move on…
Charley is free to leave at anytime and even though my heart breaks at the thought of it- I would never stand in the way of another soul’s evolution. I am prayerful that I am wrong about this all and hanging my hopes on the fact that not one person got cranberry juice in their Vodka drink during this movie!
But Charley, if you have to leave… I have to know for myself the answer to one more question.
Which man was it?
And you know what I am talking about.

Shepherd…

June 2, 2011

6/2/11
Shepherd…
The first definition is: somebody tending sheep.
The second definition is: somebody providing guidance.

The other day somebody asked me if I had ever done a life regression. My answer was no. When I asked why-they said it would be curious to see if Charley and I had had a connection in another life. My personal thought is somewhat similar to what is so brilliantly expounded upon in the book, Embraced By the Light by Betty J. Eadie. That is to say, I believe that a group of souls bind themselves to one another as agents of learning throughout each incarnation. So, in essence—it wasn’t a far-fetched notion that Charley and I might have held such a pact prior to this incarnation. In my curiosity to divine this rare connection- I posed the question to the universe the other day while on my ride home, asking for an explanation.
The reply came back:
“Did you look up at a street sign? What was the name of the street? That is your answer.”
Now mind you, on any given day my commute and travels bring me past 200-300 street signs easy and… being a most inquisitive and intuitively overloaded gal… I will look for information in all of them. Thus—my quandary! Which signs had I read 24 hours before that would have triggered an ‘ah-ha’ kind of response. My first intuition was to recall those names or phrases that held any significant tie and/or impression to this case or to Charley. I mentally ransacked my brain and came up with a few. I chose only those that immediately came to the forefront- as they don’t want you to have to work too hard. I piece-mealed several words that stuck out- then parsed for a connection. Pretty much most of the day I drew a blank- except for the three or four initial imprints and in an attempt to retrace my steps, I took the exact same route as the day prior. Keen on divining the message, I eyed every sign I had glazed over before. As I drove, home I tried to recall the exact location of the roads I had pulled names from; which was hard to do because most of my roads are incredibly bucolic and even more incredibly similar! Forty-five minutes into the trip and my frustration- I spotted the first one. It read, Walter Shepherd. Now- there is significance there for two reasons- so I decided to wait it out and not jump too fast to a conclusion. Several Earth, Wind and Fire songs later- I spotted another, immediately followed by another- Porter Street and N. Johnson.
Hmmmmmn… that segue’s a no-brainer, but he had nothing to do with my question and so I used this pattern as the template it was meant to be and asked for further confirmation. It came in the fashion of the next two signs visible to me. The first of the names held 3 words. The second is rather obvious.
First signs read, Charlie ______ _____ and next came, Shepherd Road.
In the shorthand- the answer became just as obvious and my ‘ah-ha’ moment became my typical “Oh s___!” moment.
Charley…
Shepherd…
Charley is my shepherd.
So you see… the first definition of a word is not always right. Sometimes we must look just beyond the surface for the deeper meaning of a word or a phrase or even a thought. I received my answer in the manner in which suits best for now. Charley is my shepherd. Whatever he was or was not to me in another life doesn’t really matter; I can only concern myself with what he is in this life- a mentor, a guide, a shepherd meant to keep me from harm.

Now that that is cleared up, I’m hopeful he will be just as forthcoming on the following clues.
…feet that are burning hot
…the vodka cranberry-drink, listen to what the bartender says
…the letter in the mail
(And this other clue, I was able to figure out on my own.)
…work on letting go of the event that occurred on Halloween

Got-it- message received!

And so it begins…

June 1, 2011

I received my feather this morning. Amongst a myriad of other curious surrendered bits of information, I was granted this:
“There is no wrong in write… just write.”
And so it begins…thank you.


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