IMG 0270

IMG 0269

Location: North Carolina, United States, North America

Lat/Lon: 35.81800°N / 82.249°W
Winter Star, besides having a truly magical name, is an outstanding peak of the southern Appalachians. One of the highest mountains in the eastern USA, it offers some unique hiking opportunities and some of the nicest views one could imagine. Rising starkly above Deep Gap, there are some great vistas to be had of the ridge rising over the gap, and of the nearby peaks of the Black Mountains which loom all around Winter Star.
info thanks to BobSmith

So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned.

Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land! -- Peter Pan

A Spiritual Journey

And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles,
no matter how long,
but only by a spiritual journey,
a journey of one inch,
very arduous and humbling and joyful,
by which we arrive at the ground at our feet,
and learn to be at home.

 ~ Wendell Berry ~

 (Collected Poems)

From Archive of postings to Panhala  -- July 2008 to Present

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 http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew and act anew. --Abraham Lincoln

photo by James Jordan 

Welcome to today's posting of CelebraZine (eZine to Celebrate What's Right in the World), a 'running blog carnival' (of posts both found and shared with me) that uplift and inspire.... an inspiration of sayings, video, audio (music and speech), images, poetry--anything and everything that feeds the positive in heart, spirit, and mind.

 

THE SHIFT Movie Trailer

 

Todd Goldfarb presents THE SHIFT at WE The Change. THE SHIFT Really Is Happening! This video focuses on the global shift in consciousness and reminds us that every thought, word and action we display has a great impact on others. Many people are witnessing and feeling a shift in the universe which is beginning to move from an ego based energy to a more loving and caring energy. This new energy will bring more light into the world.

 

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.

  Celebrate yourself!

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your submission  (containing text, image, video, and audio, poetry, quotes, etc.) anytime for the daily installments of CelebraZine, a 'running blog carnival' of What's Right in the World.   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, please point out the work to us.

Blessings, dear ones,

CG

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 http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.

painting by Anna Varney

Anna Varney presents GURU LIFE I'm finding Life to be the most amazing sacred teacher of all - the perfect teacher -

Receive new editions of Into the Mist through a reader  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

Of things done with smoke and mirrors,

they only serve to soften the realization that magic exists--

Strike a Chord of Silence, CG Walters

A few years ago, without any particular intention, I was spending my time hiking deep into the mountains, meditating long silences, doing a little Tai Chi, loving my dear wife, and generally enjoying my life. In this field of grace I was given a gift of magic. Without any effort or skill on my part, a beautiful tale of wonder and mystery came to me. In the experiencing of it I felt a communion with the mystery of love itself. The experience was to become my novel, Sacred Vow.

Once this tale/experience manifested, I published it, feeling that the resulting book would share that field of the mystical that I experienced. The initial responses to the book were very good, but I was also told by the reviewers that I must now be ‘responsible,' do the ‘this world' work of a writer-if I was going to take on the mantle of a writer. So...I put much effort into my responsibility. And, in that great endeavor, I slipped from the field of grace...that gave the magic, gave the story, and gave me joy without effort.

The mountain has invited me back to the place of mystery, and I am reclaiming my greatest responsibility-to experience joy and magic.

The best way to avoid responsibility is to say, "I've got responsibilities."-Richard Bach, Illusions

Blessings and magic, dear ones,

CG

Here are a view images of my latest trek up the mountain-officially the Woody Ridge Traill, but also called the Horse Rock trail (because of a rock outcropping, Horse Rock, but could as well be so named because you need the lungs of a horse to get to the top of without making a day of the hike...brutal, and beautiful).

of yards now, one will most often be on all fours.

that will take you along the tops of the tallest mountains on the East coast.

...beautiful views on all sides...

...Winter Star Mountain (where I was last week)

...off in the distance, TableRock, where the last scene of

"The Last of The Mohicans" was filmed.

Woody Ridge trail http://www.summitpost.org/route/168424/Woody-Ridge-trail.html

Location: North Carolina, United States, North America

Lat/Lon: 35.84560°N / 82.2426°W

Route Description: There are no signs indicating the TH and there are multiple logging roads on the first 1/3 of hike (up to the "large rock"). It is steep and it is confusing. At the base of a large rock is a great spring. At this rock is where the trail really steepens. The switchbacks on the South Toe trail map do not exist.

The middle 1/3 is the worst, it eases up higher on the ridge. The trail makes the crest between Horse Rock and Gibbs Mt. there is a trail sign at the edge of the woods, about 100 yards from the crest trail. At the summit crest go left (south) to Gibbes Mt. The Woody Ridge trail is not blazed, and not maintained except from walking (Hispanics who frequently collecting Galax. Heavy bags and huffing it down the trail.)

You gain 3300+ feet in 3 miles. In my opinion the Woody Ridge trail is the steepest, most sustained climb in the south. The only other trails I can think of that are steeper are Pinch In and Sandy Flats in Linville Gorge (but these are shorter). That being said, the views from the summit and Horse Rock are absolutely without comparison on a clear day. Closest water on Bowlens Creek trail about 3 switchbacks down off Celo down the trail. Or fill up at the spring at the base of the rock before the climb ramps up. The route has plentiful downfall. It is poorly maintained

distance = 10 miles, time = 8 hours, gain = 3300+ feet in 3 miles.

Essential Gear: USFS South Toe Map or USGS 7.5 Celo Quad, good cardiovascular conditioning, water, routefinding

For more information and video clips (by someone else) of "Horse Rock" trail  http://www.summitpost.org/mountain/rock/303921/horse-rock.html

The roots of all goodness lie in the soil of appreciation for goodness.

-- His Holiness, the Dalai Lama

Hands" by Jewel

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is w"asteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see.

May you be blessed by these offerings reminding us of the beauty, wonder, and sacredness in the world around us and within us.

Celebrate yourself!

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your submission (containing text, image, video, and audio, poetry, quotes, etc.) anytime for the daily installments of CelebraZine, a 'running blog carnival' of What's Right in the World.

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,

CG

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 http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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

photo by alicepopkorn

Someone may be "walking on water" not because they have learned a great secret, but rather that they have not 'learned' that they cannot do such a thing. Sometimes the correction for a situation is not to do something more, but primarily to stop what we have being doing; rather than learning something new, relinquish limiting information that you have acquired along the way.

Knowledge is gained by daily increment,
Tao is gained by daily loss
Verse 48: Tao Te Ching

Some would assert that except in certain medically or psychologically induced conditions unlearning our limitations is a hopeless fantasy. But isn't the effect of a Zen koan a bit of "un-learning"? In such things exposed via a koan, the conscious mind is provided ‘enough rope to hang itself' so that the wisdom beyond and before the dubious learning can come forward. When the blaring flaw in any held/learned concept is exposed, the accepted reality of it crumbles.

One might argue that the purpose of a Zen koan is redirection of the mind. It is generally a question unanswerable in the context of the logical mind-something like, "what is the sound of one hand clapping?" The logical mind will grapple with such a question until it exhausts itself. At that point, with it defenses-the infallible fortress of reason-down, the mind is open for a new perspective...thinking outside the box, as it is sometimes called.

The most common example of unlearning is being confronted with undeniable qualities of an individual, situation, or thing that are in direct conflict with a prejudice we hold. When our perception is so challenged, we are left with either denial-recede deeper into our delusion-or redefinition, releasing the "education" we had on that subject before.

At this point there is a subtle but powerful difference in the path we choose. Redefinition can be by amending the existing belief, or by completely releasing the old belief and making a new definition. Outwardly the result of the two options will initially appear the same. With either, one would cease to carry on choices that would be immediate evidence of the previously held prejudice. However, with amendment of a false belief, we are building atop a bad foundation. There is always room for the implicit justification of the amendment-the object of my prejudice is no longer bad ‘because'...The implication here is that-even if it is at the subconscious level-the prejudice is not justified now, but could possibly have been justified at one time. As if a change in the one abused by your prejudice is the reason for the amendment.

"Argue your limitations and sure enough they become yours."
Illusions by Richard Bach

Consider how much of what we "cannot" do may actually be what we will not allow ourselves to be able to do because we have accepted some a bit of self-definition imposed on us by another or by a particular experience. The problem in investing in such a definition of self is that we often do not do our "fact checking" before allowing the experience to become a self-creating, self-perpetuating truth.

If the source of information was another person, were we at that time so perceptive as to know the motivation of the person's assessment? If not, how can we sufficiently validate the value of their input as to warrant incorporating it into our very definition of self-the pattern that will define our experience of life? Perhaps they were intentionally malicious, or maybe they were an ally, but factors in their own life at that time clouded their perception.

"Truth told with bad intent beats all the lies you can ever invent." Wm. Blake

Sometimes the person from whom we have incorporated the limiting belief truly was acting out of love for us, but they were the possessor of a limiting belief. Their intention was for our best interest as they saw it, but could offer no more than they were capable of perceiving. If this limiting perception comes from an incontestable source of support-parent, teacher, role model, or spouse-it becomes a particularly complex structure of overcome. In order to free ourselves from this limiting perception at the same time we are seeking to redefine our abilities, we must also accept that our supporter is fallible, that from even our allies may come limiting directives-even though unintentionally.

The more cornerstones of our definition of self or reality that we are attempting to break simultaneously, the more internal resistance we will encounter. Structures like relationships, self-definition, society, etc favor stability and generally have mechanisms to maintain that permanence. Abrupt or extensive change is responded to by personal psychological countermeasures to sure up the existing structure or deterrent reactions to stave of further assault. It is much like a spyware or virus software ‘overreacting' to your desired efforts to access a particular website or program that you know does not pose any threat. The structural program is designed to respond categorically, not to a specific item or attempt.

So, how do we unlearn....become less? It is our great blessing that our nature has a self-righting ability, a spiritual gyroscope, except when our spirit, mind, and/or heart has become extremely damaged-and such scenarios take exceptional mechanisms for correction like reincarnation, contact with divine individuals, etc.

Anything that takes you out of your head, your ego, out of thought, will bring you to a place often referred to as your center. This place of your truest definition of self existed before and beyond any accepted limitations. It remains forever with you even if doubted and never visited. This slate of your definition of self is never written upon or marred by your experience. It is what you were in the beginning and what you remain outside the illusion of collected belief.

There are methods and structures of considerable effort that can take you to this place, but it is just as effective to just let go-though this path is not right for everyone and extremely hard for some. In methods, the most common is probably meditation, which runs the gamut of techniques from very intricate combinations of breath, chant and ritual, to just watching the rain fall. In the methods of a less defined nature, it might be as simple as laughing with a young child, lingering on coming out of a much needed nap, or even what some might consider a chore like washing the dishes or mowing the lawn. It is not the activity that makes the difference, but the state of mind...anything that draws you into giving yourself to it whole-heartedly, without thought.

Time spent in such states initiates the self-righting of any host of damages to body, mind, heart, spirit. Such are multiply blessed activities, a joy in and of themselves, boons to health and spirit, as well as one of the most effective methods of releasing ourselves from the bonds of self limitation.

Copyright 2007 CG Walters

This is my truth. Only you can determine if there is any value in it for you.

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 http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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

This is the kind of book that you will want to read and reread as it takes you on a very mysterious voyage into the invisible, into the world of the soul. This theme will never leave you... I recommend that you meditate after reading this book. I think this way, you will retain more of the book's message that you can bring back to your own consciousness use as a tool to achieve your own goals. The resources in this book are impossible to describe in a simple review like this. Just open up and be receptive, and you will receive a wonderful gift from this author. --Marie-Claire Wilson, for Oracle 20-20

Installment 17 of 22 Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

Sacred Vow

Soon after his call with Djalma, Ian achieved his passionately sought goal of meeting Katerina many more times, but he could not have imagined what the feat would demand of him in return. Ian knew that in pursuing love, one never intentionally asks to be made defenseless, gullible, and imprudent, but many a love, as well as countless other great treasures, would not have come to pass without first coming to possess some degree of those more dubious gifts.

For some people, but not for him, it might have been debatable whether Ian's next visit was a gift of benevolence to lure him onward or a cruelty. For him it was, unquestionably, kindness.

All that was necessary was for Ian to cease to pursue the next visit so fervently, and to rest comfortably with the confidence that he was connected with Katerina. After a month of ignoring numerous invitations, Katerina visited Ian during his meditation one evening. Perhaps it was coincidence-or had it become necessity?-but the teapot was not is the study this second time as well.

As had become his habit while meditating, Ian sat cross-legged on his woolen couch. Sitting there, Ian began to perceive the Katerina of his original tea visions, the very same woman in appearance and manner. She sat, with her back to Ian, on a tall stool at a fine old-time writing desk of a dark wood. She was reading an ornate, thick, old book with a leather cover. Contentment spread through Ian, along with caution. He was afraid to breathe; afraid he might disturb the connection.

His view of the scene started to arc to the right, moving nearer to Katerina. At first, Ian was alarmed, as he had not willed this movement or even desired it. By then he was used to being out of control of his location in her environment. Today, Ian could determine that his view was not through the eyes of another person in the room with Katerina.

He expected Katerina to become aware of his presence. She always had been when he had visited in her home before.

This was indeed the very Katerina with whom he had become so familiar during the tea visits, unless his memory was playing another cruel trick. And, this was the room in her home that he had visited many times. Just as Ian remembered, her desk was in front of the window to the right of the exterior door. On either side of the desk were bookcases. He had watched her laugh, read, and write here many times before.

Katerina slid to the back edge of her stool, looked upward, and was silent for a time, perhaps in some prayer or meditation of her own. Ian felt close enough to lay a hand on her shoulder. With all the power of focus he possessed, he tried to reach forward and touch her shoulder. No hand obeyed. No touch occurred. Clearly, Ian had no body for this visit to her home.

Lost in the midst of this frustrating perception, Ian heard Katerina speak. After a moment of pleasant surprise, he noticed that her voice had a sad tone.

"Are you listening to me? Can you hear me, dear one?" she said.

"Yes!" he said. But his response made no sound. Katerina evidently did not hear him either. She did not reply.

Was that truly Katerina's voice? he wondered. Her sadness troubled him. Though he had not been able to hear what she said during his previous visits into this life, Ian had never observed anything before to indicate that she was leading less than the most fulfilled of lives. His belief that she was happy had made the separation between their existences acceptable, at least until he could find a way to be with her. The melancholy rhythm of her words caused him sorrow.

After a moment of silence, she lowered her attention to the tome on her desk. "Where have you gone to, my friend?" she asked in that same sorrowful voice.

"I am here, Katerina," Ian replied.

Katerina continued to talk to herself as she flipped slowly through the pages of the book. She appeared to be searching for something in particular.

Ian was looking over her shoulder. The pages of her book had detailed scrollwork painted around the edges. The paper was thick enough to be vellum. The book seemed handmade. The text was not written in English, and the formatting of the lines in most places implied that it was more like poetry than prose. Most pages had a variety of images in the text area, more like hand-drawn or painted artwork than printed pictures.

This particular book was not something that he remembered from any previous visit to her house, but it was not unlike other books Ian had seen Katerina use, or that were spread about her home. Based on what he had seen before, this could be a rare collection of ancient volumes of poetry. Or it could be something more along the lines of the esoteric writings, with which she was also so familiar. There were many such tomes on the shelves on either side of her desk and spread about the house, extraordinary in their appearance and their content.

In his previous visits, Katerina had impressed Ian as being both an artist and a mystic. He did not need to see her work with such manuscripts to come to this conclusion. The way she responded to children, flowers, or any other living things provided evidence enough for this speculation. She always exhibited the wonder of a child, the wisdom of an ancient, and a unity with nature rarely embodied by any member of humanity.

This day, Katerina periodically stopped to consider a particular page and traced her finger over a design or picture. Sometimes she sang lowly, barely loud enough for him to hear. One song reminded him of a children's lullaby. Another was more of a hypnotic chant.

After the chant, she quickly flipped through several pages, as if remembering something, or returning momentarily to a section she had already viewed.

"What are you looking for?" Ian asked, needing to speak though he knew his effort would be silent.

"I am looking for you, dear one," she said precisely at the right moment. "Are you looking for me?"

Ian was shaken.

He hoped Katerina would turn to look at him. Had she finally realized that he was there?

Without turning, she spoke again, "When will you return to me?"

"Oh, Katerina," he responded, "I have returned. Why can't I make myself known to you?"

She flipped through a few more pages, silent now.

"Look at me, Katerina," he said. "Please turn around and see me!"

Abruptly, she stopped turning pages. It gave Ian hope. But she did not turn around.

She read aloud from the page she had found. At first her words seemed to be in a language unknown to him, but she spoke too softly for Ian to be certain. At a later point in the verse, Katerina suddenly began to speak clearly, and in English.

Twice known.
Eternal waters of unlimited life.
Three times shown,
Mysterious ways of freeform flight.
I have seen,
Been forgotten, but revived.
I have died,
But never been denied.
Somewhere near,
The immortal dance begins.
Swirling sphere,
From which all life extends.

Was this a favorite poem of hers? Ian wondered. Or was she reciting a potent spell for some specific purpose?

Sitting back in her stool, Katerina closed the book with a heavy thump. "I do not believe you have chosen to forget about us and our commitment to one another," she said.

"Don't believe it, Katerina! I haven't forgotten!" he promised.

Katerina pushed her stool back from the desk. She rose, walked away from him and disappeared into another room. Ian stared at a piece of paper now lying on top of the book she had been reading from. The script was beautiful. He was certain it was Katerina's own handwriting.

The paper was well worn-obviously a favorite keepsake. If for no other reason than its value to Katerina, Ian wanted to be familiar with this verse. There was only a single paragraph. Unlike the book, the words on the page were in English. Ian started to recognize them as something he was already acquainted with.

Katerina returned and stood between his vantage point and the desk. She had brought a candle and lit it, releasing a fragrance of an exotic smelling spice that Ian did not recognize.

With her back to him, she pushed the stool under the desk and stood with her hands on its back for a moment. Then she dropped her attention to the paper that he had been trying to read.

"Why are those words familiar, Katerina?" he said. "What is it?"

That piece of paper had to be significant, and Ian was certain he was familiar with those words-but, he could not remember how or why. He felt a rising sense of urgency, a need to know that verse. He wondered why-was it because he would soon be leaving there or that he might need the verse for some future purpose? He felt completely helpless. His view of the page was blocked now, and in this reality he had possessed no ability to direct his point of view...

Katerina turned as if to look straight into Ian's face. She took a couple of slow steps toward him. They stood nose to nose; a couple of inches separated them. He could feel her breath and smell the mingled aroma of her old books and the candle that was burning.

Could she tell that he was there?

If so, Katerina gave no indication. She stood entranced, with a faraway look on her face. Ian wanted to believe that she could at least imagine his presence. If she was unaware of him, he had no idea what she was doing.

Ian wanted to keep taking in the whole sight of her, but his attention was drawn into Katerina's bright, intense eyes. Time after time, he felt overcome as if he were falling into her eyes. Surprisingly, he felt inclined to resist the experience. He instinctively knew the visit was about to end. How he wanted to continue to remain with her, to be this close to her!

Her soft lips slowly formed a first, intentionally precise word. And then she spoke: "I offer this Sacred Vow to you alone. If ever you are in need, expect me to reach beyond possibility and take your hand. As you feel the warmth of our bond, know that you will never be forgotten, never be alone, and never be without this one enduring love."

Katerina was reciting the verse from the paper on top of her book. Ian struggled to justify the deep familiarity he had with those words

After drawing a long, slow breath, Katerina began the same rhythmic recital again. As she did so, he was again drawn into her eyes. This time he let himself go. He could feel some part of himself blending into a single existence with her. Physically he was becoming part of her. When the verse was complete, he settled again into his sense of separateness.

A third time Katerina began to recite the same words. This time Ian gladly let go of any perception apart from hers. And this time, losing himself resulted in losing her as well.




As serene as his transition into Katerina's parallel world had been, Ian came back into his awareness of his world with a charge. His heart was racing the moment he became conscious. He forced himself from the couch so quickly that he tripped over his feet and almost fell over on his face. He knew now why that verse was familiar!

There was a chance that the same Sacred Vow was in his house, somewhere. He had written it down after a stirring dream he had had some time ago. And he was going to move every item in his possession, one by one, until he found that scrap of paper-if he had not thrown it away.

Ian had a bad habit of disregarding musings and inspirations that he scribbled down as time passed. This particular bit of writing had sparked such uncomfortable emotion within him that he had almost destroyed it immediately. In fact, he remembered that the only reason he had not done so was he couldn't believe a few words from a dream could force such an uncontrolled emotional response within him.

Now he knew why he had reacted so strongly to the passage. Ian resolved to find it.

It proved unbelievable how much a single person could store into every hidden space of an entire house. This became especially evident to Ian when he decided to inventory everything he owned. Half of what he sifted through over the next two days had certainly long lost its value or purpose in his life.

The task he was performing was almost a perfect situation for a thorough spring cleaning. Or, it would have been, if not for the fact that Ian was completely intimidated by the idea that he might accidentally overlook and discard just the item he was searching for. He unearthed everything, examined each thing, and put it right back in its original place-just in case he didn't find what he was looking for and had to do it all again.

It was a good thing no one happened to come by the house during that little obsession. Ian was sure they would have had him carted away. He rarely moved away from his place of excavation, except very briefly to attend to life's necessities. Several times he woke after having fallen asleep right in the middle of his work.

Ian was beginning to worry about what would happen if he didn't find the paper. Months later Liz or Djalma might come looking for him and discover that he had expired during his fixated searching; unsatisfied but unwilling or unable to give up.

Eventually, Ian was successful. The crumpled bit of paper was one of several unrelated scraps in a box of old pictures. Ian had not imagined the impact holding that paper in his hand would have on him. Here, finally, was a concrete link between his reality and Katerina's.

He was almost giddy in his exultation. He felt like a foolish child in his needing something tangible to reassure him of his connection with Katerina. But he didn't care. Holding onto that bit of paper, he leaned back against a stack of boxes in the attic, too tired to move. Letting his guard down, he went peacefully to sleep.
 

Continued next week, Birthday
 

 
For those who cannot wait to read Sacred Vow over installments, I have a gift for you--the first 15 chapters online to be read at your leisure!

This link http://authonomy.com/ViewBook.aspx?bookid=1557 is a listing the 1st 15 chapters on HarperCollins.London.

If you enjoy what you read, I'd ask a favor in return; help me pursue a foreign rights publishing contract for Sacred Vow.

Please register on the site (create a profile on http://www.authonomy.com/ ), and search for Sacred Vow. Once you have the page up with the Sacred Vow book cover, notice that to the right of the page there is a column with several options, one of which is "Back this book", please click that --this adds Sacred Vow to your bookshelf, used to determine which books the editors will consider.-This is not a purchase. Authonomy is strictly a mechanism for selecting books for publishing within HarperCollins.

Please check your profile page afterwards, ensuring that the Sacred Vow cover shows in your Bookshelf.

If you have time, make a comment on Sacred Vow by going to this page
http://www.authonomy.com/ViewBook.aspx?bookid=1557
the comment box is below the book description. I would love your input. Fiction is a collective creation between reader and writer.

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,

CG
 

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

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

I don't know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve. --Albert Schweitzer

photo by Robbie G1

Bryan Flournoy interviews Radio Host, Vaishali at Making It All Click. Fasten your love seat belts, because Vaishali is hitting the air and print waves. Move over Howard Stern, Vaishali, the Spiritual Wild Child has arrived, and is exposing the world to her full frontal naked truths. "Big, double D truths" as Vaishali likes...

photo by Mr.Tea

Myrko presents The 10 Most Inspirational Quotes by The Buddha at AwakeBlogger. "Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."

 

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. 

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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

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

Birthday

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
 
copyright 2006 CG Walters

For those who cannot wait to read Sacred Vow over installments, I have a gift for you--the first 15 chapters online to be read at your leisure!

This link

If you enjoy what you read, I'd ask a favor in return; help me pursue a foreign rights publishing contract for Sacred Vow.

Please register on the site (create a profile on http://www.authonomy.com/ ), and search for Sacred Vow. Once you have the page up with the Sacred Vow book cover, notice that to the right of the page there is a column with several options, one of which is "Back this book", please click that --this adds Sacred Vow to your bookshelf, used to determine which books the editors will consider.—This is not a purchase. Authonomy is strictly a mechanism for selecting books for publishing within HarperCollins.

Please check your profile page afterwards, ensuring that the Sacred Vow cover shows in your Bookshelf.

If you have time, make a comment on Sacred Vow by going to this page
http://www.authonomy.com/ViewBook.aspx?bookid=1557
the comment box is below the book description. I would love your input. Fiction is a collective creation between reader and writer.

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings, dear ones,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

Everyone takes the limits of his own vision for the limits of the world.-- Arthur Schopenhauer

 

Blessings for the World's Servers by butterflygris at Humanity Healing Network

Poem: "Only Breath", by Rumi

 

Samme presents Great Resources for Women's Rights Issues...including Top 10 Videos In Women's Rights

This is What a Feminist Looks Like

This is What a Feminist Looks Like

 Many thanks to those featured today, for the work they do to better our world!!!!

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. 

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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. 

Celebrate yourself!               

Be a part of the expression of celebration. .

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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

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 book....is 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, etc.....you 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.

  copyright 2006 CG Walters

Continued next week, Dangerous Choice
 

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,

CG
 

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a [person] and the life [they] lead? --Albert Camus

photo by cindy47452

Ross G presents Get excited about life! posted at Will it change you: portal for personal growth. Ross also loves seeing people who are enthusiastic and passionate about life!

I learned that the richness of life is found in adventure. . . . It develops self-reliance and independence. Life then teems with excitement. There is stagnation only in security.--William Orville Douglas

photo by McBeth

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. 

Celebrate yourself!               

Be a part of the expression of celebration. .

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,

CG

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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist

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 Oren 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 b***amp;rdquo; 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
 
copyright 2006 CG Walters

Thank you for your continued support.

Blessings all,

CG
 

“…we have not even to risk the adventure alone;
for the heroes of all time have gone before us;
the labyrinth is thoroughly known;
we have only to follow the thread
of the hero-path…”

Joseph Campbell-Hero With a Thousand Face

Almost every time I strap on my gear (40+ pounds) and step out into my trek up the mountain, my knees, my back, and even my heart seem to groan at the prospects of several hours of hard climbing upwards, and then who knows how many hours of roaming around before the (physically more) demanding (on all but heart and lungs) work of descending. But I go, because soon my mind and body will come into harmony with the effort, and the benefit to my spirit carries the physical.

Primarily, I walk alone. A psychic once told my wife that I 'leave it all behind' when I go up the mountain. What I know is that I most often achieve an altered state of mind that will gradually drop away over weeks, if I do not go up again. Science has proven exercise's many benefits to physical and mental health (being even better than prozac/zoloft

I went bushwacking (choosing not to follow any defined hiking trail) up a ridge along the Black Mountains.

I started with a walk up White Oak Creek....

(This particular section  is called Butt Slide.)

 Then I picked up the Locust Creek 'fire road'...

....to take me to my point of real departure. 

If Everyone Cared -- Nickelback

If everyone cared and nobody  cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day when nobody died
When nobody died...
 

Many thanks to those featured today, for the work they do to better our world!!!!

Our focus dictates what we see, which reinforces our focus, further confining the possibility of what we will see. 

Celebrate yourself!               

Be a part of the expression of celebration. Submit your submission (containing text, image, video, and audio, poetry,  quotes, etc.) anytime for the daily installments of CelebraZine, a 'running blog carnival' of What's Right  in the World.     

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,

CG

  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  http://feeds.feedburner.com/IntoTheMist
 

photo by Señor Taco 

Sacred Vow is a metaphysical novel about a man who responds to the mysterious call of a woman, opening the way to redefinition of both himself and his understanding of the world around him. He takes his first steps on a journey to accept the world around him as a place to live, not simply a place to survive day-to-day. Sacred Vow is both a narrative and the means for the author to communicate a positive message about life and fully integrating the most into each moment. Highly recommended—Midwest Book Review

Installment 21 of 22 of the serialization of Sacred Vow (Dragon's Beard Publishing, ISBN: 978-0-9774271-4-7, paperback, Fiction: Visionary/Metaphysical).

The Void

Nothing unfolded. The densest black veil swallowed Ian, smothering every sensation.

He waited patiently for images to appear, hoping he was in time to help Katerina retrieve her baby. Transition between consciousness in Ian’s physical world and his parallel lives had been taking longer recently. But after a few minutes of nothing, he could not remain patient.

“Come on,” Ian tried to scream, “before he hurts her!”

He heard no scream, felt no sensation in his vocal cords. Instead, he felt a physical—or at least neural—sensation of something being drained from him—whatever he was in that dark place.

The sensory deprivation under this shroud of absolute black was both internal and external. His mind twisted about, trying to cope with no sensations at all. It soon became uncomfortably obvious to Ian that his mind had never before been without some form of sensory input. Even when one is asleep there is a steady flow of messages, if only from the body’s involuntary functions.

Ian wondered what his body was doing. He had never been aware of any bodily sensations from his primary reality when visiting before, but this was not one of the ordinary reality shifts. In a usual shift, it was possible, Ian imagined, that he continued to receive messages from his body back home but was always distracted because of what was happening in the visit. He seemed now to be lost somewhere between his primary reality and the place he hoped he would visit soon.

Or, he thought, maybe this place is just a different reality, one that I’m having a harder time than usual comprehending. Maybe I just have to let go of my preconceived expectations.

It dawned on Ian that this place might not have been where he originally intended to go, but Katerina might well be here anyway.

What he was sure of was that Katerina in that last world needed him. He had to go back there. No matter how he tried to ignore it, Ian knew he was going to have to accept that even a reduced time frame between trips would not help him return to a previous life.

He wanted to flail about and curse, but the void he was in had sucked all anger out of him. Instantly, he had a sensation of collapse where anger should have been, and he felt all the more exhausted for it. More than exhausted. Diminished. As if his existence was less certain than it had been a moment before. The threat of losing not only his life but his entire existence to this void was filling Ian with a unique sense of fear.

No matter how much Ian wanted to help that unfortunate manifestation of Katerina, he had to accept the possibility that he might not even be able to help himself. Every emotion or thought he experienced seemed to take away more of his life energy.

The loss of energy from his feelings was worse than that of thought. Ian decided to clamp down on any emotion. Each time he got upset, he experienced an excruciating void in its place. Thus he knew he could not afford to allow himself to feel anything. So, he used the process of releasing emotion that he learned in his mediation practice. Just let it go, he told himself, breathe in . . . It was easier when he’d had the sensation of breathing to focus on.

Suddenly from nowhere, Ian was blindsided by a new rush of fear. What if I am dead? His emotions took off running. And the backlash of the emptiness that followed was unbearable.

“O-o-oh hell-ll,” he wailed.

Just then, Ian realized something positive. If he was hurting, he was not dead! For the first time ever, he was thankful he could feel pain. It allowed him to release the fear and drift in the void.

Thought did not have as negative an effect, Ian had noticed. He had only a slight twinge of pain after a thought.  Still, he had to ration his activity. He decided that he had better focus any thought on getting himself out of whatever he had gotten into.

Ian was sure he had to be lost in-between. Djalma had warned him it could happen. “You could get lost in the transition,” Djalma had said. So, here he was, no good to Katerina or to himself.

Ian searched for an answer. Was there something else Djalma had said that might be helpful? He is a smart one, that Djalma, Ian thought. If he thought something would be useful, he would probably have repeated the phrase or idea more than a time or two.

His mind was proving particularly intolerant of limited sensory input. Ian’s thoughts alone were not providing enough stimuli. This had to be what it felt like to die, awareness collapsing in on itself.

But there had to be something Djalma had repeated most. He would have done that. He would have tried to prepare me without being pushy, Ian thought.

Then Ian remembered: the Vow! Djalma had said to remember the Vow!

“Think on the Vow,” he told himself. “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense.”

Who could know about the Vow, except Katerina? Thinking of not being able to help her and her child caused Ian to feel pain again. For feeling that flash of sympathy, he suffered another ripping sensation of the void. 

As loud as he could muster, he recited the Vow:

 I offer this Sacred Vow to you alone. If ever you are in need, expect me to reach beyond possibility and take your hand. As you feel the warmth of our bond, know that you will never be forgotten, never be alone, and never be without this one enduring love.

Over and over, Ian repeated the Vow to himself. The rhythm of the verse was hypnotizing. Ian noticed that the darkness seemed slightly less oppressive.

Blurry light broke through to his eyes. A shadow appeared in front of him—a figure leaning over as to touch his head. It was the Katerina of the tea visions. Ian yearned to touch her . . . and he did not feel the pain of losing a part of himself!

“Oh, Ian, what have you done to yourself?” she said. “Go home and be healed. This is very dangerous for us. Come back to me when your spirit has recovered, dear one.” She fanned some herbal smoke across him, and Ian lost consciousness.

When he woke up, Ian saw that he was in his study, and that it was sometime during the day. Judging from the light in the windows, it was around midday. It had been early evening, right after work, when Ian had first entered into the meditation. He could not see a clock or even manage to raise his watch arm, so he didn’t know if it was the next day, or some day following. What he did know was that he was miserable.

Lying flat on the couch in his study, he tried to move. He knew he needed food, but the pain from the first attempt to stir almost made him sick. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold on to his awareness, but he could not. He blacked out again.

Next week is the Final Installment of the serialized portion of Sacred Vow, Woodland Soup

 copyright 2006 CG Walters