CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Growing Up
September 2001
An email from Liz told me she had moved on to another online relationship, but this one came about in a most unusual way. In the darkness of depression, she visited her old school’s website in an attempt to recapture the blissful days of her youth. On noticing postings from past students she decided to add a comment of her own. The next day she received a reply from a man named Andrew who asked for more information about her because he didn’t recall her, even though they were supposed to be in the same class. It turned out that he started shortly after she left to attend another school. She asked me to do some readings about him because they talked of meeting, despite the fact that he lived on the other side of the country. My readings showed a karmic bond, a true soul connection.
On Father’s Day, Che called in but spent most of his time whinging about Jenny. He was struggling to cope with her domineering personality. If he really looked at her he would realise it was just phony bravado, although I did understand where he was coming from. When she got fired up it was a case of “Look out world!” He said he had been talking to Gregg when, for reasons she never made clear, she became so enraged she smashed some glasses. Whatever karma they had to settle, I hoped it would happen without the loss of blood or broken bones.
On Monday, I tried my hand at ‘automatic” drawings but wasn’t having much success. At 11am, Gladys rang. As we talked, I absent-mindedly picked up the pencil and started drawing. As it was Gladys I was talking to I assumed the drawing was for her. I gave it to her the next day. Tamara rang on Monday night with some extraordinary news. On the previous Friday, a co-worker saw a book in her bag and sparked up a conversation about “coincidences”. The book was The Celestine Prophesy by James Redfield. One thing led to another and she told the girl why she left her previous job. Tamara then learned the woman who rang her moments after she was fired just happened to be a good friend of the schoolboy’s family! The girl advised Tamara to tell the woman everything she had just told her. She did, and was assured the lad’s message would be delivered to his grieving family. She was happy with her new job, especially as her supervisor mentioned how impressed she was with her flair for business at a recent meeting.
The following Thursday I felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. I was on edge the whole day and didn’t know why. It was as if I was expecting something to happen, but not having a clue as to what. My readings were not helping either as all they forecast was change and the Blank card was an all too common visitor. There seemed to be changes for so many people. On Friday night, Tamara and I went to Kedron-Wavell RSL for a psychic development workshop with Kerrie, one of the readers at Zen Gallery. I had previously attended another of her workshops in the same venue. That was when I saw the Union officer for the first time. After a guided meditation, we paired with people we didn’t know to do psychometry, something I had never been successful at, probably because of Andrew Fitzherbert. I saw things symbolically, but the person understood the message. We swapped partners, and again my symbolic message was received loud and clear. Aura readings were next on the agenda, followed by chakra healing. It was a wonderful night, but on Saturday, I woke feeling restless again. At Chermside, I collected more enlargements of my cupboard photos and stopped into Zen Gallery to see if Julie and Aaron were working. Julie was. She and her co-worker, Katrina bought copies of Isis, Excalibur and Circle of Life, which is what I called the Celtic knot and sun rays. Perhaps I was ready take a stall at the markets.
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| My painting featuring the Lady of the Lake. I called it Excalibur |
On Sunday, I returned to Kedron Wavell RSL, but this time for a Jason McDonald seminar. I was disappointed to find him imitating American medium, John Edward, from the TV show Crossing Over, instead of standing on his own merits. During a question and answer session I told him I was at a crossroads and uncertain of which way to go. I asked if he could help me. His abrupt answer shocked me. “Have you left your husband yet? That’s why you’re at a crossroads. Make the move. Continue with your spiritual and healing work. Are you doing so now? No. Not really. Well, why not?” With that he moved on to the next person. My heart was racing. I could barely breathe. I had received much the same message on Friday night from one of my psychometry partners. But I also remembered what other readers warned about leaving Steve. Was that why I felt the way I did? Did I know that wasn’t the answer, that doing so would only incur more karma? When he finished he told us we could get a reading with one of his students if we wished. The person who read for me had this to say: “A better, smoother, calmer life lies ahead if you can make the move. You will be free. Your art will flow. Money will be tight for a while, but your son will look after you. Perhaps you could stay at his place. Your husband won’t move forward until you do. He uses your strength because he is fearful of his own inadequacies. He needs to use his own psychic abilities and develop them, but he is not. Nor will he until you leave.”
Her name was Raywen. Tamara was so impressed with her she decided she was the one to teach her Reiki. She also told Julie that if ever Mark wanted to hire another reader, Raywen was it. I couldn’t say I hadn’t been warned. During many a heart-to-heart chat with Petula the very same subject came up. There seemed to be no getting around it. I had to go.
I woke on Monday feeling lost, sad, and more distressed than I could remember feeling in a very long time. I rang Kristen and told her everything. Steve was a good man, I knew that, but too much damage had been done. I was too sensitive to take much more of his mental and emotional abuse. I was sick of feeling controlled, and I was sick of double standards. He’d tell me to make decisions and be strong, but whenever I did he found fault, which only served to bring me down and keep me dependent on him. It was a vicious cycle that had to stop. But something else was afoot that day. The car insurance renewal notice came, something that normally would have him going on about tightening our belts, but not that day. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he watched me, waiting. What’s he waiting for? He knows something is up.
On Tuesday, I went to Zen Gallery to show Julie some more prints but she wasn’t there. Aaron was. He liked them, but suggested postcards or bookmarks. He was such a gentle soul, a very old soul, perhaps even an earth angel, and I found myself confiding in him. He was wonderfully supportive. He said things happen for a reason and while we may not know what those reasons are, if we have faith and trust, we will be safe. I allowed him to hug me while I sobbed away. He gave me a miracles happen bumper sticker and I left feeling calm. I had liked Aaron since I met him, and I’ll never forget what he said we were talking about Jason one day: “Jason’s fine, as long as he checks his ego at the door.”
As I walked home through the park, I stopped to ring Che. He said he would come straight over. I told him I didn’t want him leaving work, but he wouldn’t hear of it. When he arrived, we stood huddled together in the park. As he held me I sobbed piteously. He said he knew this would happen and that was why he delayed leaving home. We were both crying by then. When I felt better I asked him how his relationship was. It wasn’t going well at all. Jenny seemed to resent any time he spent away from her. She was smothering him. In that moment I knew why Raywen mentioned Che instead of my girls. We had to help each other, but I had to sort myself out before I could help him.
On Tuesday September 11th 2001, all my problems paled into insignificance when I saw the horror being played out on television. Two hijacked planes deliberately flew into New York City’s Twin Towers, bringing them down amid secondary towers of billowing smoke and ash. Is this what Nostradamus predicted? Is this the rout of mankind? I remembered thinking that a decade earlier at the onset of the first Gulf War. What karma must have been in place that allowed a father and son to be at the helm at two such crucial moments in history? Thousands of people were annihilated. Dazed and shocked ash-covered survivors roamed the streets like extras in a Mad Max movie. It was beyond imagination. A third hijacked plane flew into the Pentagon and a fourth crashed into countryside when its brave passengers fought back. It was said that plane was on its way to the White House. Two paths were open to the world. Rush blindly into the Apocalypse, or trust in our “Better Angels” and embrace the Age of Aquarius. We have it in our own hands to heal the wounds of the world, so Nostradamus said. It is our choice.
People like James Twyman, with his Million Prayer March, were trying to do just that. When I told Tamara about the email being forwarded to lightworkers worldwide she asked me to forward it to her work email address so she could send it out from there. When I stopped into Zen Gallery to give Julie a copy of it I got her email address so she could send it out to people on the database. Whilst there, she asked me if I would like to go with her on Sunday to the Self-Realization Fellowship at Brookfield. On Friday, I had a long talk with Leigh, Che and Kristen. My neighbour was very worried about her son as he was a fighter pilot in the Air Force. Heather was worried about her son for much the same reason. Robert wasn’t a pilot, but he serviced the F111s. Dana said she was too afraid to fly now, not that many people were flying anywhere, especially in America. Che offered to give Steve enough money so he could go away by himself and sort himself out. I thanked him, but I didn’t think it would do much good. I told him I hoped to talk with Steve that night and let him know where we go from there.
More unwelcome news came on Friday September 14th with the news of Ansett’s collapse. The whole world seems to have gone mad. Sixteen thousand jobs gone in the twinkling of an eye! That would only add to the sense of pain and despair people felt. Then I remembered the readings and warnings for Andrea’s husband, even Petula’s dream. It was the end of an era. One more thing happened that day. I found a new line on my palm. It wasn’t there a week before. Tamara said it was my fate line.
I couldn’t seem to talk with Steve on Friday night so I went to bed asking Spirit to provide the opportunity. They did. We went to Morgan’s at Scarborough and then to nearby parkland to eat our fish and chips. Somehow, the words came, flowing easily. He knew. He had known all week. He was just waiting for me to say something. He was very kind, very gentle. He hugged me and we both cried. It was not what I expected at all. He offered to move out of the bedroom, but said with so much debt he couldn’t afford to live elsewhere. I told him I would see someone at Centrelink when I lodged his dole form. When we got home, I rang Che to put his mind at ease, and then I told the girls. Kristen said she could see, with her mind’s eye, a monk-like figure standing behind me as we spoke. She said he looked like The Hermit of the Tarot. She said she then saw my parents, Uncle Jack, and other family members in spirit standing around me. I couldn’t understand why Jack had to be there, unless it was some sort of penance. I then rang Petula. She said she will take me to Shorncliffe for a prayer vigil for peace on Monday afternoon.
The next day was so unlike any other Sunday. As Steve and I talked, we both knew this was necessary, and yet we were both unsure as to where we would go from there. There was no blame. It was a natural progression. We had grown apart. Who knows, I said, our paths may converge again. Julie arrived and I went to the Self-Realization Fellowship. On the way through she stopped to pick up her friend, Shelley, at Wavell Heights. The moment I saw her I knew I had seen her before.
The temple was the most amazing place I had ever been to. The meditation lasted an hour and was in absolute silence. On the stage framed prints of all the great religious leaders stood on easels. Beyond, was a shop in which one could purchase smaller copies of the same pictures, or anything else one desired from the available range. The feeling I experienced during the meditation was beyond description. I came away with a sense of no judgement and genuine spiritual bliss. I also came away with an answer. During the meditation I saw myself as The Fool of the Tarot, standing at the edge of a cliff. I then saw myself step off the cliff. That was when I knew all would be well. A huge hand, I will call the Hand of God, appeared from nowhere and I simply stepped onto his fingers and into the palm of his hand.
On Monday, Petula and I went to a Full Moon-Peace ceremony at Shorncliffe and met Julie and Shelley there. While we waited for others to arrive, Shelley told me that when I got out of the car on Sunday and walked up my front steps a nun was walking behind me. She said she knew the nun was extremely spiritual. She glowed with the most awesome golden light. I knew immediately who she was, but I couldn’t recall the town in Spain she was associated with. Shelley was thrilled I knew that much and was even more excited when I told her I was named after her. When the ceremony started, there was a sense of the natural world I had never sensed before. I knew Petula would be in her element with her Celtic background. Afterwards, she asked me if I felt warm. It was actually a cold night, but I did. She said that was the spirits. They were all around us in a circle, close together to keep us warm and safe as we each said our names and told of our feelings about the U.S. tragedy. We can change the world! We must change the world!
When I got home Steve said Leigh had rung so I called her back. She told me she and Andrea were talking at work about the Ansett crisis and she wanted to know if I could come over the next day for a chat. I was surprised to find several women there because I wasn't supposed to be reading. It was to be a simple morning tea. I did read for one lady, however, because she really needed it, and for the next few hours we talked about many things. Andrea told me she was grateful for the warnings given her and her husband. After the second, he started listening. The subject soon moved to Tamara's recent experience and with that, a lady named Margaret said she knew the family very well and would pass on the lad's message to ensure it got through. When they left Leigh took me to Glenys’ place because she couldn’t leave the house. She certainly needed a reading and when it was over she asked if I would do a painting for her. She showed me the old galvanised washtub she wanted it done in and photos of a farm. They were all so different. There were aerial shots, close-up shots, and even one taken lovingly through a cast iron gate. I asked her to tell me what she wanted, exactly, but she said I would know. Why does Glenys do this to me? I tried going about it a different way but had no luck. Glenys simply refused to tell me what she wanted. I would know, she said. The woman was out to get me!
At the library on Wednesday, I got an email from Liz. She said she was positive Steve and I would not break up but would just take a breather. She suggested I stay with my brother for a few weeks and see how I feel then. It was good advice. So that night, I had a long chat with Peter. I then rang Che and asked him to look into sleeper cabins for me on the Sunlander. On Thursday, Tamara rang to say she may have work in the Nundah or Valley offices as there is a lot of interest in her, according to her supervisors. Steve and I were getting on better than we had in years. We were friends again.
On Friday September 21st, Gladys called to tell me no one in her family claimed to know the girl I drew. After a while she said it wasn’t Rebecca. I said “Okay.” Then she said it again, and again I said “Okay”. Then she said, “No, it’s not Becky.” With that I nearly fell off my chair and screamed at poor Gladys. “It’s not for you! It’s for Petula! It’s Becky! Her Becky!” Petula wasn’t convinced. She didn’t have the glasses. She didn’t have the beret. Her hair was not so messy. However, she did think it might be a relative of Mark’s so she took the drawing. But I knew it was Becky. That was why Gladys kept saying what she said. Why was Becky hanging around? Is Petula in trouble? Well, she’s always in trouble. Then I remembered what her sister-in-law said when reading her aura. She’s going to have a baby and it’s going to be Becky reincarnated!
On Saturday, Steve moved into the spare room, sleeping on a rickety old folding bed that had seen better days. At the library, Liz sent me her reader friend’s email address, suggesting I contact her regarding my situation with Steve. Despite everything, we were actually getting along better than we had in a very long time. He was extremely supportive, especially when it came to Glenys’ painting. He even came up with a perfect substitute easel. An old cupboard I had bought from a co-worked when still working at the aged care facility proved the perfect solution. With the top drawer open, and the washtub resting in the mirror recess, it was stable and the correct angle. I only had one problem. I would have to take it with me when I went to Peter’s as there was no way I would have it finished beforehand. As it turned out, I did get it finished for not even Che could get me a ticket on the Sunlander. With Ansett out of the equation, every train and bus seat going anywhere was fully booked.
On Sunday, I went to the Self-Realization Fellowship with Shelley as Julie wasn’t well. In the meditation I ‘saw’ a lake I had seen in other meditations. This time I realised the woman in the boat was me. The lake was calm, but there was a lot of mist preventing me from seeing very much. But I could see enough to know I was going in the right direction. Shelley told me she got a message during her meditation that she had to buy me a picture and asked if I wanted Jesus or Yogi Paramahansa Yogananda, founder the Self-Realization Fellowship. She said of all the pictures available those were my only ‘allowed’ choices. I opted for Jesus simply because I felt more of a connection to him than the Yogi.
When we got home I showed Shelley my cupboard. She loved Excalibur but was enthralled by Isis’ eyes. She said they followed her as she walked around the room. While we talked, I discovered she used to work in the same aged care facility as me, in the neighbouring house as a nurse, which would explain why she looked so familiar. After a few readings, she said she would come to Shontara’s past life workshop, being held at Petula’s place the following Sunday. She was amazed to hear me tell of translating the hieroglyphs. I got a name that may have sounded like the one Petula got that day we sat down to look at auras. Vowels were not used in the Egyptian language, and their pronunciation must have been different to the literal translations. I was also able to tell her about the nun she saw. At the library during the week I got out a map of Spain and methodically ran my finger over every town starting with the letter “A” until I found the right one, knowing I would know it when I saw it. Theresa of Avila! She was an extremely spiritual woman, one I would like to learn a lot more about when I had the time.
On Monday afternoon, Che rang to tell me he had booked my ticket north, but I won’t be going until October 23rd. The next day he dropped over a suitcase he borrowed. Before he left I asked if Jen was pregnant. “No way!” was his horrified response. They had an agreement on that, he said. Why did I ask? Did I know something he didn’t? I didn’t know anything. It was just a feeling I couldn’t shake. Another grandchild was coming. Kristen swore she would never go back for seconds, and she wouldn’t anyhow if not in a stable relationship. Tamara was too career-focused so that left Che.
On Wednesday, Petula showed me her new fairy cards (Healing with the Fairies). They were truly beautiful. When I asked her where she got them she said they were right under the angel ones (Healing with the Angels) in the display in the middle of the store. Both sets were by Doreen Virtue. When Kristen backed up Petula I realised I was not meant to get them as Spirit knew I would prefer the artwork in them. I had to admit, the angel ones were truly inspiring and a comfort to my soul. On the morning of the following Saturday, a knocking sound woke me from a horrible dream about Petula being murdered by a hideous man. It was Steve knocking at the door. He said he knew I needed comforting. I have had some terrible dreams, but that was one of the worst. When I spoke to Petula I found her in a terrible state. She was back to the cycle of tears and torment over a man. I wondered if that’s what I was picking up on. If I was, Mark was very bad news.
Later in the day Che rang. He was terribly upset because Dzintra managed to get his phone number and Jenny answered her call. She was ropable. “We’re supposed to have a silent number. How did that bitch get your number?” I told him I would ring Information and see what happened. I rang him back immediately to tell him to take it up with Telstra because I had no trouble getting his number. Perhaps because of Che, or perhaps because of Petula and the dream, but that night, Steve and I had our longest, deepest, most honest talk ever. As a result, I made the decision to stay, but to be my own person. He moved back into the bedroom, although I was still going to Peter’s. We needed to put some distance between us.
On the last day in September, Petula had a full house with Shontara’s past life workshop. What I saw on the screen was fire; a fire that was out of control; a fire that was in a castle. I watched myself running in blind panic to escape. I could hear sounds. Someone was trapped. I should go back. I wavered, but then I made the decision to get out instead. Who did I leave behind? It was a man. I could see him silhouetted in a window with flames behind him. There was something evil about him. I ran out onto the drawbridge. I was almost free, almost safe when I found myself surrounded by armour-clad soldiers on horseback. In the next instant, I saw the Union officer again, but just briefly. Seconds later, I saw rolling green hills. It was quiet and peaceful. It was so beautiful. I was free. I was safe. In the next instant, I saw hordes of Mongol warriors riding towards me. I was trapped. There was no where for me to run. When Shontara's voice called me out and back to the room, I thought back to that day the methylated spirit stove burst into flames and how I ran out in a blind panic, leaving Kristen in her high chair. I finally understood why the fear was so palpable.
The day also lead to another revelation: Any one of the people present could have handled that workshop better. Shontara was fine with a smaller group, but with a larger group she dithered too much, no professionalism, no polish. Tamara was right when she said she would fail if she took her workshops to Melbourne as she planned. However, everyone got a lot out of the day and Petula and Kristen’s friend, Deborah, felt an instant connection. Petula wants to work with troubled teenagers – Deborah does. Deborah’s father runs car racing tracks in Lismore – Mark has family in Lismore, and is a fanatic of the race track.
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