Pursuing our one true love in its infinite expressions

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Your life follows where your thoughts go. This short Cherokee parable eloquently guides us in one of the most effective ways to improve our lives.

Two Wolves

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life...

"A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves." "

One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego."

"The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

"This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old chief simply replied, "The one you feed."

Author Unknown

photo by by h.koppdelaney

Admitting that the cosmology expressed in Sacred Vow is a truth to me, I have often been questioned about my choice to present my truth in the format of fiction.

 

I personally have always been inclined to fiction for expressing truths, much the way myth and stories have historically been used to portray the essence of the ineffable. I do not see fiction as non-truth, but rather as something that can be more like an extended mantra%u2026a means to comfortably invite the reader (or writer) into opening up and allowing their personal truth within to present itself from through the story. This method can offer a living, ever-progressing truth, perfectly fitted to the need of the reader at any given time-as opposed to merely a presentation of my truth, which may or may not be relevant.

 

A path of communication with the subconscious-as opposed to a communication with the conscious mind-is alive, more a communion between the personal subconscious and the Collective Consciousness, possibly awakening or speaking to the personal consciousness a little along the way. A living story is also capable of presenting varying, perhaps what appears to the conscious mind to be opposing, truths at every reading-again, depending on the current need of the reader. This is the nature of a myth or a Spirit Story.

For me, one of the most important things in successfully conveying a Spirit Story is the rhythm-something like a powerful drumming circle. Now the rhythm I am speaking of may be the audible rhythm of the words. It might also be the tempo of the unfolding story, the flow back and forth of the relationship of the characters.

 

Drumming may be very pleasing to the ear and still be far from what is necessary for opening up the sacred space for the mind and spirit to fly beyond what is normally perceived. The same is the case with a story. It may be eloquent, well crafted and entertaining to the intellect and/or heart without being able to make a deep communication with the spirit that affects a lasting change in the person. Mystical drumming is a mantra of percussion; Spirit Stories are an extended mantra, in story form.

 

There have always been gifted storytellers who can consistently weave a tale, just like mixing a medicine, with an intention of curing an exact ill-on inducing a specific experience-in a specific person or audience. I aspire to this talent, but would not dare claim such a thing to be under my full control. In the case of my novel, Sacred Vow, I was drawn to a concept (introduced to me by my wife). At that point all that was required of me was to be open to the story, perceptive of its resonance (or rhythm), and then accurately capture the vibrational frequency of my experience in words.

 

Spirit Stories are alive, and they will come into the world when it is their time and their choosing. They are manifest by a collective effort of their readers-to-be and the writer. In the places of Spirit, cause and effect are not linear, and their interactions are continuous. There is no linear process of a creation of a Spirit Story, and then the book is there for the reader. The future readers even now open a place for Sacred Vow to manifest, and speak to me in the past to create an individual capable of allowing the writing to come forth.

 

Spirit Stories say as much as we have the heart to hear, and that story will change as we change-story and reader co-create each other in a spiraling dance. The finite words on its pages do not attempt to contain all that it is to say. Though the last word has been written, Sacred Vow is also an "unfinished" work-and it has not said all that it will.

 

People come to me, and teach me what they have found in Sacred Vow. These things I alone could not find within the story. A Spirit Story's truth is growing, an ever-progressing horizon. Sacred Vow taught me, awakened me in the writing of it, but I have always known that the next phase of my education is what comes to me from my writings, through the readers it has brought itself to. And I am looking forward to this continuing conversation!

 

copyright 2008 CG Walters

 

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the multidimensionality of our loves and our lives.

Autographed/signed copies of Sacred Vow are available from the author- or purchase as ebook or the Amazon Kindle version

Even much of science today considers viable the infinite dimensioned reality of the ancient mystics and shaman. Acknowledging the existence of these worlds and, therefore, their inhabitants, we must then consider our relationship with them. Can we, do we, interact with them? Are we carrying on active and long standing relationships across these dimensional divides even though we might not be consciously aware of those relationships?

Perhaps our fives senses are not so much perception tools, but rather tools of filtration. In my novel, Sacred Vow, I followed a speculation that our minds filter out the information that we would otherwise perceive as the "other realities." These other dimensions exist in the very space that we incorrectly imagine our world alone exists. This is possible without our conscious awareness because each world and its inhabitants vibrate within a specific frequency range. Our mind is generally set like a radio tuner to pick up only a specific frequency--therefore recognizing one world/reality only, despite all the other 'signals' that are available out there.

The most adept mystics and shaman have always known about these parallel universes/realities because their finely attuned sensitivities allowed them to perceive and understand the details of the nature of their world, their primary reality. Once knowing this, they were able to perceive and acknowledge what was not their world--much like base self-awareness allows me to realize (imagine) what is me and what is not (illusion though that may be). Once these adepts knew someplace existed besides their primary reality, the interest of travel between the different worlds would naturally arise.

The interaction/travel between dimensions is possible, but has most often been limited to those unique individuals who have learned to expand their perception, alter their vibrational resonance. One of the primary characters in Sacred Vow, Ian, manages, unconsciously, to alter his resonance, but can never fully make the transfer into other worlds (never able to fully interact as a full member of that reality). This, however, is the nature of Ian, but does not imply that that there is an inherent limit to travel across dimensions.

In Sacred Vow, Ian and Katerina are soul mates-twin flames-but are completely unaware of each other as the story begins, as they live in different dimensions. They have an active, long standing relationship between them, though is has never manifested in either of their primary realities. In Sacred Vow, much as in our own world today, there is a growing rift in the Collective Consciousness causing a breakdown in the essence of reality.

According to Katerina's culture, this rift has occurred periodically over the millennia. When it happens, Katerina's spiritual order, the Sisterhood of Crones, performs a ritual to receive identification of the two individuals who have the strongest bond throughout the infinite realities. This time it is Katerina and Ian. The Sisterhood knows that in order to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness, these two will have to overcome the obstacles that separate them, come together, and realize their union, their oneness.

The idea that Ian and Katerina getting together affects our collective reality is more than just "love conquers all." Emotion is energy, and is one of our most powerful methods for generating psychic energy. This being so, a strong motivator such as love is often a catalyst for opening portals to change--whether social, personal, or energetic change.

Cause and effect are not linear. Change, or an unfolding horizon, seeks out the most receptive individuals in which to manifest its own beginning. The increasing opening in the 'portal' between dimensions-the expansion of our sense of reality-existed before Ian and Katerina. Their connection was the most receptive point for the connection between dimensions to manifest itself. The developing portal sought out the couple's receptivity with the intention of expanding into the wider consciousness, beyond masters and adepts--first to Ian and Katerina, then those around Ian and Katerina, then people who know those people, until a momentum is developed so that even people without contact to any of the original players will know this unveiled truth.

Have you ever heard the 100th monkey story? This story was further popularized by Ken Keyes Jr with the publication of his book The Hundredth Monkey. Whether the story is empirical truth or not, the truth of what it is saying has been seen over and over--tipping point they now call it.

The 100th Monkey
A story about social change.
by Ken Keyes, Jr.

The Japanese monkey, Macaca fuscata, had been observed in the wild for a period of over 30years. In 1952, on the island of Koshima, scientists were providing monkeys with sweet potatoes dropped in the sand. The monkey liked the taste of the raw sweet potatoes, but they found the dirt unpleasant. An 18-month-old female named Imo found she could solve the problem by washing the potatoes in a nearby stream. She taught this trick to her mother. Her playmates also learned this new way and they taught their mothers too.

This cultural innovation was gradually picked up by various monkeys before the eyes of the scientists. Between 1952 and 1958 all the young monkeys learned to wash the sandy sweet potatoes to make them more palatable. Only the adults who imitated their children learned this social improvement. Other adults kept eating the dirty sweet potatoes.

Then something startling took place. In the autumn of 1958, a certain number of Koshima monkeys were washing sweet potatoes -- the exact number is not known. Let us suppose that when the sun rose one morning there were 99 monkeys on Koshima Island who had learned to wash their sweet potatoes. Let's further suppose that later that morning, the hundredth monkey learned to wash potatoes.

THEN IT HAPPENED! By that evening almost everyone in the tribe was washing sweet potatoes before eating them. The added energy of this hundredth monkey somehow created an ideological breakthrough!

But notice: A most surprising thing observed by these scientists was that the habit of washing sweet potatoes then jumped over the sea...Colonies of monkeys on other islands and the mainland troop of monkeys at Takasakiyama began washing their sweet potatoes. Thus, when a certain critical number achieves an awareness, this new awareness may be communicated from mind to mind.

Although the exact number may vary, this Hundredth Monkey Phenomenon means that when only a limited number of people know of a new way-a new horizon,-it may remain the conscious property of these people.

But there is a point at which if only one more person tunes-in to a new awareness, a field is strengthened so that this awareness is picked up by almost everyone!

copyright 2008 CG Walters

Photo by ~ Hypatia ~

Photo by hans

 

 

 

 

 

It seems that a lot of angst would be spared if the
spiritual path-and life, in general-had an undeniable standard pattern that
could guarantee we were 'on track'. There would be an invariable voice of the
intuitive, heard by everyone-that you could compare with what your friends
heard, just to make sure you were tuned into the right channel. Maps could be
acquired in advance of any planned spiritual progression, to do away with all
the years of meandering through endless forays.

So much effort is required to first determine if the mounting need within should
be responded to as a worthy motivation or merely (as we are often told) a chance
to mature-in the real world a word frequently implying a directive to 'neglect,'
'deny,' or 'rationalize'. Once certain we have a true calling to this path, we
must next determine from just where the voice of one's guiding intuitive will
emanate. What language will we use to communicate with it-service, art, and
dance, even words? What environment will most likely evoke its presence?

For me, one of my most powerful connections to the Absolute-the Tao, or whatever
you may call the unified intelligence-has turned out to be through just the
right story: something that takes the form of an extended mantra, imbued with a
rhythm and symbolism resonating so personally that it seems surely to be a
direct manifestation of my intuitive self. Such a 'chant' lures me beyond my
imagined limitations, to allow me to unreservedly embrace an otherwise
untouchable identity.

That being the case, I guess I should not have been surprised when over time, I
became aware that whenever my higher self, spirit guides, or other such
familiars have been unable to otherwise get a piece of learning across to me,
one of their choice tools is to bring it to me in the form of a story-even if I
am the writer of that story. No matter what I have in mind, or am working on, I
find my writing activities are suddenly hijacked along a previously
unanticipated path. If I am in the midst of a neglectful sabbatical from
writing, my mind becomes so inflicted with an unfolding tale that I must write
it down to free myself from its clamor.

These playful friends of mine (my muses) are quite talented. For, as soon as
they force me back to the keyboard, or by the moment that I realize that we have
taken a "wrong" turn (if I was currently in a writing cycle), my conscious mind
has already been seduced into gladly following their whimsy.

As a rule, once their intended lesson is conveyed via the resulting story, I am
amazed that I was not already consciously aware of the information they have
presented. Quite often I am such a complete convert that I cannot imagine how I
could have been unaware of this particular information previously. Sometimes I
suspect that I merely want to have as much as my instruction as possible
delivered in this, my most favorite way.

I can't offer any reasonable excuse for why I have periodically withdrawn from
writing when I know that is the fount of so much valuable instruction for me.
The most likely justification that I can offer is what flows before me is
sometimes more than I was prepared to stand up before: sometimes "the truth may
be recognized before the peace to live it is realized."

The last time I had the good fortune of a being redirected along a path of
instruction, I was making my way to rework a long-neglected bit of writing:
doing preparatory exercises of short stories. Without warning, one of the
stories-that soon became my novel, Sacred Vow-lay hold to my attention, far
exceeding my intentions. I pursued, curious about what passed before me. After
hour upon hour of following this new lure, I came out of my little 3x5 writing
closet in a deep meditative state. Clearly, this story would be no mere
preparation for another. Shortly afterwards, my job was downsized. I now had no
excuse not to follow with abandon.

My writing closet-so small that I must turn the chair away from the desk to be
able to stand and open the door to leave-may be an appropriate environment for
inducing a meditative state-sitting in the dark for long hours, staring at a
single light before me (the computer monitor). But I think there was something
more going on. For ten to twelve hours a day, over the next several of weeks, I
followed where the experience led. I was enjoying the story unfolding before me,
but I was ecstatic from the sensation of extended periods of being connected to
my higher self. My wife said that I possessed a radiance when I walked into the
house during breaks in the writing. True, I typed in the text, but I did not
initially imagine their meanings.

Weeks later, hiking with a friend, I told him of some of the views of reality
unfolding in this new book. After listening attentively, he said: "Do you really
believe this is the way it works?"

We continued deeper into the woods, as I gave his question thought. I was a
little amused at the answer I finally had to admit. I said, "Until I saw this
information in the story, I can't say that I had any such ideas. But now, yes, I
think this is a truth."

"You know how tarot cards unveils truth depending on the way the cards fall?" he
asked. "Perhaps just such an auspicious falling of words on your screen is
unfolding the same way."

For just such moments of clear connection with my higher self as the writing of
Sacred Vow, I gladly pay the cost of the once seemingly endless attempts to
connect with my unique path and intuitive voice.

 

photo by ricardo.martins

In December 1993, by many standards my life was wonderful. I was in a loving relationship. I had a secure high-tech job of almost limitless advancement potential, with one of the largest international corporations in the world. My wife, of only a few years, and I had just built the house of our dreams, in pricey though desirable countryside surroundings-where we expected to retire in due time, enjoying the fulfillment of our dreams as best we understood them at that time.

Also in December 1993, my life was failing by some standards that I could not escape. All indications of my health were that I could not long survive the 'costs' of our achievements. I spent most hours of my day entering into/within/or recovering from a migraine. My blood pressure was sky high (very bad for someone with an aortic valve insufficiency). Virtually every aspect of my health seemed to offer a negative response to my attempts to push myself to achieve more, quicker, or to seek instant comfort from the effects of going ever faster, farther.

To make matters worse, I was in dire confusion about the growing conflict between how I believed I should assess my 'achievements' and what I actually felt inside. The more I achieved along that previously defined path of success, the emptier I felt-and the worse my health became. Fortunately, my relationship with my wife was strong. It was, however, being tested by my ravings about pursuing some unorthodox path to shake off the growing sense of meaninglessness. Kathy wanted to help, but had no better tools than I to understand what we would be trying to achieve if we did veer from the only path that we knew.

Soon, I announced to my wife, "I want to move to the mountains!" -a place that I had only visited very few times in my life, and found myself completely incompatible with due to my severe intolerance of heights (and curvy roads!). Kathy had much more history with the mountains, and loved them dearly, but was most comfortable with them as a cherished vacation destination . . . perhaps even a second-home site.

"How do you know you can live there?" she demanded, truly concerned about my reasoning and logic.

"Some things you just know," was my spontaneous response-surprising Kathy as well as myself. I did not have any real understanding of the need to move to the mountains, but I did know.

I abruptly quit my job-certain that I could not muster the energy to survive if I went back into the office even one more time. I returned to my writing, long neglected, as an avenue to realize what it was that my spirit could not otherwise convey to my consciousness. I picked up a translation of the Tao Te Ching.

Though it had become lost in the background of my everyday 'achievements,' I always had the good fortune of a strong connection to the spirit self. Writing, countryside and nature were forever the best gateway for me to come to my center. The Taoist philosophy of the Tao Te Ching was a perfect reminder. The land surrounding the dream home that I had come to disdain was now a willing aid in my journey back to myself.

Without my drive for an urgent solution, it took my wife another year to let go of the path that she had been well trained to believe in all her life. It was fortunate that a connection of the spirit-a joint interest in the metaphysical-had been one of the strongest common interests between us in the beginning, even at the subdued state of our spiritual focuses at that time. We followed our intuition, even without understanding it. Releasing that familiar life was a painful time in our relationship, but it proved we had a deeper bond that we had not fully realized.

In order to stay within our budget, we purchased a boarded up place in much need of repair, attic full of snakes, in the country. Writing again took a back seat to such things as patching the roof, chopping wood, getting running water into the house. One of many new blessings provided to us was to walk to the ridge of the mountain range near our home-though it is a hard three hour climb. When we arrived in the area, my knees were so bad that I could barely walk stairs. Before long, the mountain had called me to the top.

Once on the top, I visited the mountain frequently, meditated many hours, listened to nature around me, and tried to attune my hearing to my higher self. Kathy and I redefined our priorities, and developed new circles of friends with focuses more compatible with our new understanding. Employment still got in the way of writing, but work chosen was more likely to tax the body than the mind and spirit.

For many years the writing waited while I came back to my center and my health. I was fortunate that the muses were not offended by my long absence. When I was in a position to understand, they renewed our conversation. One of the first things they graced me with was the knowledge that I had come to just the right place at just the right time.

Whether it is the love of your life, the life changing move to a new career/new location or a major shift in your definition of yourself, the greatest knowledge that you will ever exercise is often unjustified by your cultural experiences, your family heritage, your education or even your own logic. These are the "things that you just know," from deep within yourself. It is a part of yourself that may seem mostly unfamiliar, but is always there--waiting until you can listen.