Amazon Edition
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Enlightened
Book One of
The Love and Light Series
Copyright © 2012 by Melissa Lummis
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Preface
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To my grandmother, Katie Irene.
I miss you more than I ever thought possible.
I’m always watching for the butterflies, Nan.
Mahatma Gandhi once said "there is orderliness in the universe, there is an unalterable law governing everything and every being that exists or lives . . . I do dimly perceive that whilst everything around me is ever changing, ever dying there is underlying all that change a living power that is changeless, that holds all together, that creates, dissolves and recreates. "
In our lives, things happen we can’t explain and other things fall into place exactly when we need them. Have you experienced this? Have you ever been in trouble and the right person came along at the right moment? Have the answers fallen in your lap after a long moment of faltering? Have you been thinking something and a friend says it out loud? This serendipity only happens when you have your mind right, as a friend once jubilantly told me. Do you have your mind right, my friend? If not, I challenge you to start seeing your life as the adventure it is and you will find that “the universe conspires to help an adventurer” as Paulo Coelho wrote.
As you read this adventure of love and light, my friend, open your heart to the unknowable and your mind to the possibility that all is as it should be. Even and especially when the truth seems shroud-ed and the light is dim. If you don’t like being in the dark or what you see when the lights are on, then “be the change you want to see in the world,” as Gandhi said. I hope you recognize that you are a “mahatma”—a great soul, just like Gandhi, and that you, too, are a soldier of peace, if you choose to be.
Namaste.
A warm night in May, 1959
Clark College, Lewiston, Virginia
The basement room reeked of mildew and old books. A great, crumbling tome rested on a heavy wooden table that harkened back to the days of the Salem witch trials. Candles burned in a ring around a chalked-pentagram on the cement floor, while a pony-tailed blonde set the last one down carefully, completing the circle of protection.
“That’s not right, Katie,” a flat-topped young man teased as he pushed her playfully out of the way. She giggled and fell to her side, slapping at the hand nudging the candle a hair to the right.
“Smart-ass.” She laughed, tapping his knee with her saddle-shoe. He turned and their eyes held for a moment.
“Come on, Joe, time’s a-flying, and we’ve got a metaphysics final tomorrow. I’d like to pass.” A fellow in gray trousers tapped his wrist watch.
“Don’t flip your wig, Patrick, we’re ready.” Joe grinned over his shoulder. Katie shifted her blue blameless eyes to Patrick’s face, the warm glow as steady and true on him as it had been for Joe. The corners of Patrick’s mouth curled up.
“Then let’s begin,” he said in a mocking, ominous voice. Patrick offered both hands to Katie, who tilted her head and winked. She grabbed them, and he took his time pulling her to her feet. When Joe turned toward the pair, Patrick dropped her hands, and she dusted off her green pedal-pushers.
“I’ll never get these clean again. Mom will kill me,” she fussed.
The three college co-eds marched around the circle, mumbling a protection incantation under their breath. After three turns around, they stepped into the circle and knelt, facing each other. Joining hands, they struggled to maintain serious faces as repressed smiles twitched their lips. They repeated the incantation over and over:
“Asato ma sadgamaya.
Tamaso ma jyotirgamaya.
Mrtyorma amrtam gamaya”
Katie’s soft, schoolgirl voice balanced out the men’s coming-of-age gruffness. The candle flames flickered as the energy they conjured coalesced around them, blowing in a gust around the circle. The wind grew more robust until Katie’s ponytail danced behind her like blonde streamers on the end of a girl’s bicycle handle. They raised their voices over the roaring pitch, changing the incantation.
“Om Klim Kalikayei Namaha”
They chanted in perfect unison over the blustering energy. Their eyes flared in fascination as a pinprick of light materialized in the center of their circle, expanding into a sphere. The edge sizzled and danced in unison to the flickering candle flames. The center was a blur of color with indistinct shapes forming and dissolving.
Joe shouted, “Now.” And they yelled over the commotion:
“Om bhurbhuva svah
Tatsaiturvarenyam
Bhargo devasya dhimahi
Dhiyo yo nah procodayat”
The sphere of light blasted open into a swirling orb of green and blue, ringing like a singing bowl. Katie laughed out loud in wonder and shock, and as if drawn by her girlish voice, the orb rushed to her. It tore her hands from Joe and Patrick’s frantic grasps as she floated above their heads trapped inside the shimmering ball. The howling wind and the shrill ringing muffled her scream as the orb shrank, and Katie stretched out long and thin, like a girl-shaped rubber band.
Her panicked “help me” echoed down the disappearing corridor, one hand stretching out to them as the orb sucked her away. Her eyes bulged with horror or pain—or both. The orb winked out of existence with the sound of a single flame being pinched out with wet fingers. The room rang with sudden silence, the candle flames still.
“No!” Joe bellowed.
Om mani padme hum
“The Jewel in the Lotus”
Buddha of great compassion, hold me fast in your compassion.
Fr
om time without beginning, beings have wandered in samsara,
Undergoing unendurable suffering.
They have no other protector than you.
Please bless them that they may achieve the omniscient state of buddhahood.
With the power of evil karma gathered from beginningless time,
Sentient beings, through the force of anger,
Are born as hell beings and experience the suffering of heat and cold.
May they all be born in your presence, perfect deity.
~ From the Buddhist prayer to the Four-Armed Chenzerig, the Buddha of Compassion
Buried in darkness, Loti tossed and turned in a whirlwind of dreams. Her husband limped through the sliding glass doors of the cancer treatment center as she rushed to take his arm, but he jerked from her grasp. Biting her lower lip to quell the quiver, her startling blue eyes pleaded with him, but his gaze fixed on the ground, his brow pinched.
“I can walk,” he growled.
Not knowing the right thing to say, she nodded. A strong wind tossed her hair and threw dead leaves into her face that swirled around her until she couldn’t see him anymore. Frightened, she swatted in vain at the rustling tornado, crying out, “David.”
The wind died down and the leaves drifted in lazy circles to her feet, revealing her sitting room. Firelight danced over the glossy river rocks of the fireplace and an unknown dread unhinged her knees. Collapsing into her recliner, she rubbed her hands over the supple leather, over and over as the skin on her arms tightened into goose bumps. The flames twisted and stretched behind the fireplace glass, straining to touch her. Her stomach tightened into an all-too familiar knot as the air thickened around her, heat filling the dark corners of the room. Wheezing, she pressed her hands to her chest.
She licked her sticky lips and swallowed, wincing at the sore rawness. Her trembling hand lifted a water goblet, and the water simmered and bubbled into blood. Screaming, she threw the gruesome wine onto the hardwood floor. In slow motion,, the glass shattered into a million tiny shards. Each one caught and reflected the moonlight. The stiff liquid oozed, extinguishing every pin prick of light until one by one they were gone.
“You’re mine,” a deep voice whispered.
Loti sat straight up in bed, clutching the white duvet to her chest. Her heart banged in her chest, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. As her dark bedroom came into focus the dream faded away like a puff of warm breath dissipating on a cold night, leaving behind an untethered fear. She dropped her head into her hands. These weird dreams about David had been going on for months, but this one was unusual—sinister somehow. The others left her sad, but this one…. She ran both hands through her long brown hair, trying to remember what scared her so much. A broken glass? But the more she tried to conjure the images, the further away they slipped. She shook her head. Let it go, she thought.
Sliding her hand over the cool flannel sheet on David’s side, she collapsed back to the bed, a lump in her throat. Tiny beads of sweat broke out on her upper lip, and she buried her face in David’s pillow, inhaling the fading scent of him. Her labored breath slowed; her pained expression softened, and a dreamless sleep claimed her.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning sun glared through the parted curtains making Loti grimace. Rolling onto her back, she draped a protective arm over her eyes.
“Up and at’em, Atom Ant,” she groaned. She pushed herself upright, squinting at the invading sunshine. Fumbling for the green damask curtain, she tugged it shut. One eye opened at a time until she could bear the light, then she heaved herself out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. When she was out of the shower, Loti toweled off her wet hair in front of the full length bathroom mirror. Today would be her last day at work. Only a few more days until I’m settled at the ashram and then I can breathe. No one to counsel, no one to teach, no one to fake it for. No one who knows me or David. I can be someone with no history and no hurt.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Loti unrolled the blue yoga mat and ran her hand over the surface. Kneeling, she picked at a piece of lint, rubbed at a smudge. She stood and braced her hands in the small of her back, arching into a shallow backbend. The studio felt hollow, empty now, and as strange as it sounded, she preferred it that way these days and the thought of her students showing up any minute unnerved her. It wasn’t the teaching; teaching was easy. It was the guilt. She was abandoning them. Shaking her head, she straightened and her hands fidgeted with her golden-brown ponytail. She took a deep breath and let it out.
Scanning the room for something to do with herself, she caught sight of the storage room door. The props. She trotted to the door and scooted inside. Emerging, she dropped the bin of purple and blue blocks in the middle of the floor, and as she turned back to retrieve the next load, the silver bell on the front door tinkled announcing an arrival. She bit her lip as she glanced at the front door. A beautiful blonde waltzed in the door and Loti’s eyes watered. Rachel. Thank god. Rachel’s sometimes green, sometimes hazel eyes had a hopeful glow as she waved.
“Hey, girl,” she said, offering Loti a tender smile.
Taking a shaky breath, Loti pressed a hand to her stomach, averting her eyes. “You made it,” she called over her shoulder.
Rachel’s smile melted into a small frown as she dropped her yoga mat and purse, rattling car keys as she tucked them away. Returning with a wicker basket of straps, Loti dumped it on the floor and spun back around. She forced a perfunctory smile at her best friend before darting back to the storage room. In the dimness, she took a moment to smooth stray strands of hair away from her face and to wipe at the tears. Rachel showing up was such a relief, but crying wasn’t allowed. She dug deep into her once bottomless well of endurance, wondering if it wasn’t finally going dry. She hauled out a little more patience, a little more staying power. With arms full of woven, cotton blankets, she ran into Rachel in the doorway.
“Are you okay?”
The care and concern in Rachel’s voice almost undid all her careful work, and Loti found herself resenting her best friend. Rachel’s brow pinched as she took half of the blankets and stepped out of the way. Loti nodded, almost scowled, and then squeezed past her, setting the blankets in a pile beside her as she knelt on the floor. Rachel touched a gentle hand to Loti’s shoulder. Loti flinched.
“Hey.” Rachel’s voice was soothing, uncomplaining.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Loti said. Blinking, she kept her eyes on the task of re-folding a perfectly folded blanket. Rachel squatted down next to her.
“Loti—”
“I’m just thinking about everything I have to do before we leave for the ashram.” Loti’s words came fast and automatic, interrupting Rachel before she could say anything that would unravel her. She ran agitated hands over the blanket, still unable to meet Rachel’s gaze.
“You need this. You need to take a break from work. You need to take some time for yourself, and the ashram immersion program is perfect.” When Loti said nothing, Rachel added in a hushed voice, “It’s been almost a year since he passed.”
Going rigid, Loti snapped, “Is there an official timeline for grieving for your husband?”
“No, but you’re not grieving.” Rachel shifted to a seated position, one knee bent up in front of her with her booted foot on the floor. She rested an arm over her knee and learned back on her hand, eyeing Loti with unspoken admonition. Loti stared at the blankets for a second, then the scowl around her eyes diminished and she sighed.
“You’re the second person to say that to me,” she said in a low voice, still watching the blankets.
“Maybe we’re on to something.” Rachel covered Loti’s hand with hers.
Loti dropped her chin, closing her eyes against the shame. When she opened them, she winced at the pain in Rachel’s eyes. “Sorry,” she muttered.
The bell tinkled as the front door opened. Loti hopped up, slapped her happy face on, and ran to greet the newcomer. People poured into the stu
dio, filling every available bit of floor space and demanding all of Loti’s attention. If she couldn’t be alone, then too busy to feel was fine with her. All of her students from all of her classes showed up to her last class. Wow, was all she could think. With the dusky studio filled to capacity, Loti had to mediate a real estate squabble in the back row. A few of her die-hard posse glared at the fair-weather yogis—or not-so-fair-weather, considering they only showed up when it rained. They were her outdoor enthusiasts; the ones she didn’t see all summer long because they were off on bike tours and kayaking trips. She didn’t mind though. Loti understood the call of the wild and loved to pack up and head out to the mountains with David at a moment’s notice. She froze in the middle of placing a pair of yoga blocks by a student’s mat, rubbing the heel of her hand against her chest. That’s enough memory lane for today.
Clenching her back teeth, she composed her face and walked to the front of the room, determined to teach a kick-ass vinyasa class. She flowed through the poses, stretching, reaching, and stabilizing. Her mind cleared as her voice rose and fell in soft, undulating tones, instructing the class to lift their pelvic floor, not to strain, to move easefully. Her face radiated peace. The only things that existed in the world were in that room—drops of sweat splatting on mats, the whooshing rush of ocean-like breath, her own voice vibrating in her head, her long, slow, deep breaths, and a calm and empty mind. She padded barefoot through the crowd, negotiating between feet and hands as she guided a knee into better alignment here, relaxed a pair of tense shoulders there. She had never seen this many people in the little studio.
With her arms folded over her chest, she paused at the back of the room and did what she did best—searched her flock for imbalances. There. Something was not quite right with Jeremy. It wasn’t the physical placement; Jeremy looked great in down dog, but something wasn’t, well, right. She softened her focus until it popped from the splatter in her mind like a 3D image. Instead of a picture, Loti got a sympathetic feeling wherever the problem was. In this case, his prana trickled from his heart chakra up between his shoulder blades. She didn’t always experience it like that, though. Sometimes it was an amorphous feeling that she had to roll around like a ball of clay in her mind until it took the shape of a thought. She never actually saw anything, but she could describe it in visual and sensual terms she’d learned studying subtle energy theory.
Enlightened (Love and Light Series) Page 1
