Red Dress

by Bridget Finklaire

  “Richard!”

  He leaned in as he nudged her gently with his elbow. “Go on!”

  Katy turned towards the television and changed the subject. “What’s happening in the world, then?” The news items rolled over her as she stared at the shapes on the screen.

  “I’m off to bed,” said Richard, pointing the remote at the television. They ambled upstairs in silence, Katy giving him a perfunctory kiss outside their bedroom before heading up the second flight of stairs to her office.

  She stopped fleetingly at the long mirror on the top landing.

  “You create with your mind, you know,” the Voice whispered.

  “Do I?” she replied, slumping forward.

  “If it’s not convenient?”

  “It’s been a long day.”

  “I’ll leave you be.”

  “No!” She was standing right in front of the mirror, searching for the source of the Voice.

  “The human mind is born of the Great Creative Mind. It’s part of the Divine Intelligence that flows through and connects all things...not that anyone seems to be interested.”

  “People don’t really believe in that stuff.”

  “That’s the trouble. I can’t get anyone to take me seriously!”

  “Does that surprise you?” Her eyebrows drew together, and a smile lit her face.

  “The mind is powerful! People are always forming the path ahead, but most of the time they’re doing it on auto-pilot.”

  Katy stifled a yawn.

  “So few understand the mechanisms at play!”

  “What mechanisms?” She could tell she was in for a long night, but before the Voice could ‘say’ anything, she remembered that time stood still during these bizarre conversations. She resigned herself and sat cross-legged in front of the almost floor-length mirror.

  “The mechanisms for creating and manifesting.”

  “All that ‘cosmic ordering’ rubbish?”

  “No. True creation starts with an idea, a thought and a contemplation.”

  “And then you’ve got to work out how you’re going to do it.”

  “No. That’s the thing. There’s very little you have to work out.”

  “You believe that bullshit about the universe delivering everything you want? I haven’t noticed much being delivered – except bills!”

  “You have to play your part but when you create on purpose – according to your soul’s purpose – it all falls into place.”

  “How? We just ask for something and that’s it?”

  “You need to think about it, visualize it, feel it.”

  “And then?”

  “Intend it, and bit by bit the universe will conspire to help you!”

  “Why would it do that?”

  “Because you’re part of it, and it’s bound to support whatever you’re creating! You just have to take the right inspired actions.”

  “And what exactly are ‘right inspired actions’?”

  “You’ll encounter opportunities and synchronicities along the way – signs that let you know you’re on the right track. You take the first step and the next one shows up. It means you don’t have to work it all out in detail. In fact, it’s better if you don’t! Let it unfold like the petals of a flower!”

  “Huh?”

  “If you can stick with it, you’ll be open to inspiration, to thinking outside the box! There’s room for the Universe to maneuver when you don’t have it all set in stone.”

  “Like an artist serendipitously creating a better piece than she’d imagined?”

  “Yes. Things emerge, and what you thought was impossible becomes possible.”

  “Like walking upstairs in the dark. You don’t have to see the top step, you only have to see the next one.”

  “That’s a fair analogy, but think of a multi-colored, multilevel stairway! You could still get to your destination, the top, but there would be myriad routes to choose from.”

  There was a soft swoosh below as a pajama-clad Richard opened the bedroom door and called up. “Everything okay up there? Who are you talking to?”

  “No-one! Thought you were asleep.”

  “You coming to bed soon?”

  “Just going to meditate.”

  Katy glimpsed her face, pale and frozen in the mirror.

  “Remember I can read your thoughts. You don’t have to whisper for me to hear,” said the Voice.

  Katy thought she saw something flash in the mirror.

  “Why’s life so stressful then?” she thought, imagining she was talking out loud. “Passing go and collecting £200 so we can live in a better box – working our arses off to pay the flipping mortgage.”

  “That wasn’t the original plan. You’ve heard the expression ‘where your attention goes, energy flows’?”

  Katy nodded before remembering nobody was watching.

  “I can see you’re nodding,” said the Voice. “A lot of people allow their attention to flow to their problems or to doing what’s expected of them, living in a better box, so to speak, in the belief that it will bring happiness.” There was a pause. “Or avoid calamity.”

  “And it might not.”

  “Quite so. What you focus on grows, but most people don’t know what they’re focused on. Sometimes they can’t decide what to give their attention to! In fact, many are preoccupied with the very thing they’re trying to avoid!”

  “Because it’s habitual?”

  “It’s often unconscious, yes. Could I give you an example?”

  “Please do.”

  “Let’s say you’re trying to put on weight.”

  “Put on weight? Why would anyone want to put on weight?”

  “Well, you’re a little below your natural weight and so are many of the women you admire.”

  “I happen to think I look good.” Katy smoothed down her clothes with the palms of her hands, appreciating the outline in the mirror.

  “Okay. Let’s say you want to lose weight, but for the life of me, I don’t know why! It wasn’t like that before, you know!”

  “Well it is now! Go on, how do I lose weight?” She was eager to hear, ears pricked up, leaning into the mirror.

  “Well, there you are, thinking you’re focused on losing weight. That’s your conscious thought, that’s where you think your attention is, but it’s not where it really is.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of losing weight?”

  “My big bottom. I wish I could lose it from there, not my bust.”

  “And then?”

  “I’ll have to stop eating sandwiches and have salad instead.”

  “And?”

  “My jeans are too tight, and I’d love to get into a size six.”

  “So, what you’re really thinking about, is your big bottom, delicious sandwiches, your tight jeans and how you can never get into a size six.”

  The Voice was right, but she hadn’t thought of it like that.

  “And that’s what you create. You lose the weight from your bust, your jeans are still tight, you crave sandwiches and your bottom is still a very nice, if I may be so bold, size eight...or ten, depending on the cut and the brand.”

  Ignoring the final comment, she thought it through. “And after three days of salads, I give up.”

  “Exactly!”

  “And look longingly at the size six jeans and the girls who can fit into them.”

  “Yes, and you feel despondent. Ultimately, your preoccupations are bringing you angst.”

  Katy groaned and rubbed her eyes. The Voice was yet to tell her how to get into a size six, albeit a designer six, which was really an old fashioned ten.

  “For the most part, when people think about something they want, they’re actually thinking about the opposite, because it’s all a sliding scale.”

  “What is?”

  “ Weight, for example.”

  Saints preserve us! thought Katy, before remembering
the Voice could read all her thoughts. “Indeed.” The Voice continued. “But weight’s like ‘temperature’. Cold and hot are just opposite ends of the thermometer. Where does one begin and the other end?

  “Is this one of those fad diets where you have to walk about in a plastic onesie and sweat off your excess pounds?”

  “Good Lord, no!” said the Voice, a chuckle curling its way around the words. “Heavy is one end and light is the other. Your conscious focus is on losing weight but your unconscious attention is on what you currently weigh, what you don’t want to weigh, what jeans size you are and how tight your jeans are – so you end up manufacturing more of the same, and as a result, you feel dissatisfied.”

  “And work even harder to lose it by going to the gym and trying in vain to cut out dark chocolate.”

  “Yes. And even if you did create a size six, you’d struggle to maintain it, because it’s not your natural equilibrium. So ultimately, the preoccupation with weight is unsatisfactory. Either way, it brings misery.” There was a pause. “And if you’re overweight, like half the population of the Western World, it’s even worse! You’re desperate to lose weight, you’re obsessed with calories, diets, exercise, cravings, and on top of that, what else?”

  “The fear that you’ll never lose it. I’ve seen that in clients, it’s all-consuming. Then they comfort themselves with the wrong foods. It’s a vicious cycle!”

  “Yes. Whatever you’re preoccupied with is the thing that’s paving the way to your future, and most people notice what already exists – either around them in reality, or within their own psyche – so they recreate it over and over.”

  “Tell me how to stop!” blurted Katy out loud. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she froze, and listened carefully for signs of Richard. Nothing.

  “Move to a higher vibration.”

  “Hang on. I need a pen and paper.”

  “You’ll remember, but if you insist...”

  Katy moved into the office, retrieving a pad and pen. The Voice followed her to her desk. “Move to something bigger, more noble—”

  “Than my desk?”

  “More noble than weight.”

  Katy was wondering what ‘more noble’ meant in this context.

  “Health, for example,” said the helpful Voice. “Focus on health and your weight will take care of itself, because you’ll be a healthy weight. And, of course, if you’re a healthy weight you’ll be happier.”

  I’m not convinced, thought Katy.

  “Shall I use another example then?” Katy had forgotten the Voice was able to hear private asides.

  “What if you’re not healthy?”

  “Think about what you’d love to do! Better still, think about joy. Did you know that joy, laughter and fun are the best cures for most modern ills?”

  “It’s quite hard to have fun when you’re sick!”

  “Actually, it’s often the lack of fun that makes you sick...”

  The Voice had caught Katy’s imagination. “What about the C word?” She instantly blushed. “Cancer, I mean!”

  “Eat healthily, rest well, sleep properly, stop worrying, let go of anger and start having fun – and cancer won’t visit you... Unless you live under a mobile phone mast, or you’re subject to other man-made pollutants or Electro-Magnetic Fields. There are some souls who signed up for the experience in order to learn, but for the most part, you have a choice.”

  Katy hadn’t written a single word. The pen was still poised. The Voice gave her a moment, knowing precisely when to start again.

  “What you consistently rest your attention upon – or think about, do, and talk about – is the thing you create. The rub is that most people rest their attention upon their troubles – the opposite of what they actually want – or upon the fear of not getting what they want!”

  “So, they keep on recreating the same thing!”

  “You’re getting it, Katy! By Jehovah, you’re getting it! The things that bother people are the things that occupy their minds. Those are the things they think about, talk about, tell their friends about, tell themselves about, worry about. They recreate those things over and over in thought, in feeling and in word.”

  “And those thoughts, feelings and words become reality?”

  “Quite so... And the ‘reality’ which they create ‘proves’ to them that the original thought, or fear, was real!”

  Katy was staring out of the window at the streetlight opposite.

  “You’re absolutely right – I see that in my patients all the time.”

  “You’re teaching them to look at things differently – to change their perception of things and think ‘outside the box’.”

  “And because of that, they get different results.”

  “Precisely. They experience something else.” The Voice let it percolate for a moment, giving Katy time to assimilate.

  “Even when we’re trying to do something positive, we’re thinking about what could go wrong,” she realized.

  “You’ve got it, Katy!”

  “Like when you’re buying a house. You keep thinking of all the hurdles you’ve got to jump, so you don’t get your hopes up in case it all falls through.” She paused, catching her breath with the insight. “You’re not thinking about how lovely it will be when you’re living there – you’re worrying about how awful it will be if you don’t get it.”

  “Is it not so with many things, Katy?”

  “Yes.” Katy was wide-eyed, imagining the impact of this realization. “We’re engrossed in the fear of not getting what we want!”

  “Correct.”

  “How do we change?”

  “Become aware of your thoughts by observing them. Change your mind, so to speak, and you’ll alter your life or at least your experience of it!”

  “But how?”

  “Spend some time day-dreaming about the things you really want, the things your deeper, noble self wants. Be playful and catch any fears, simply acknowledge them, then let them go. Tell yourself a different story.”

  “That’s easy to say!”

  “You say that to your clients!” The Voice chuckled. “Have faith, Katy! Choose your dreams. Intend them. Ask for them – ask and ye shall receive. And choose your thoughts, your actions, and your words. It’s just a matter of sticking with the dream, working towards it, and receiving the opportunities that come along.”

  “Like booking the removal van and setting up the mortgage.”

  “Or trusting that if this house falls through, there’s a much better one waiting for you!”

  “That’s true! But how do I know what I really want? What my ‘deeper self’ wants, whatever that is?”

  “Do you want to eat a packet of delicious biscuits every day or do you want to be healthy?”

  “Be healthy.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d feel happier in the long run.”

  “Exactly. What your deeper self wants is positive and lovely. Ultimately, it’s beneficial and fills you with joy! It’s something you become so absorbed in that you lose track of time. Did you know that truly giving, because you want to contribute, brings people the most joy of all?”

  A smile spread across Katy’s features, her eyes twinkling as a lightness enveloped her. The Voice gave her a moment.

  “That’s what ‘following your bliss’ means! It’s making the choices that truly delight and serve! It’s taking the path that consistently nourishes and gives to the whole.”

  “Otherwise you’re chasing the short-term high of the packet of biscuits.”

  “Or the immediate gratification of buying new things and ‘having’ them.”

  “Which fizzles out very quickly.”

  “It is truly God’s Will that you follow your bliss!”

  “What’s God got to do with it?”

  “Everything. Think of Her as a kind and loving parent, just wanting the best for her children.

  In fact, think of Her as love in action. As I think I mentioned before, S
he’s more of a verb!”

  Katy drew her eyebrows together. “I still think of Him as a He!”

  “He’s a Trinity, actually – Three in One – Father, Daughter (or Son), and Holy Spirit or Shekinah in Hebrew. Or Osiris, Isis and Horus if you prefer?”

  Katy was deep in thought. “Father, Mother and Child? But I can’t visualize three in one.”

  “Think of the three primary colors making one white light.” The Voice prompted her. “What do you want for Tilly and Freddie?”

  “I want them to be happy.”

  “Exactly. That’s what The Most High wants for you! He wants you to be happy, be joyous, have fun.”

  “Sometimes the thing that fills me with joy is seeing a client heal and move on.”

  “Yes. It’s a win-win. You’re happy, the client’s happy, you get paid and your client gets better. Contribution isn’t about giving everything away for free, though of course, it can be.”

  The Voice retreated and she fished out her meditation stool. Breath. Hara. Expansiveness. Light.

  * * *

  At around 10.40 am the following morning, Katy was driving through a busy Hertfordshire town, watching it stretch out neatly in all directions. It was well groomed, and laid out in pleasant, inoffensive style with clean streets and shiny buses. It seemed a million miles away from London, yet it had taken just under an hour to get there. Driving out towards the countryside, she turned left then swung into Lavinia’s cul-de-sac. It wasn’t exactly a forest, more of a leafy glade. Katy had imagined a Hansel and Gretel cottage tucked away from the world, but Lavinia’s house was comfortable and detached with a large conservatory to the side and an English country garden set with lawns and herbaceous borders. It was about fifteen minutes’ drive from a large supermarket and the usual small-town amenities. Katy parked in the sweeping cobbled drive which ended in a small round-about affair with a cherub-clad stone fountain at the center. She picked her way through autumn leaves to a large porch with a small topiary bay tree either side. Pressing a highly polished brass button with her index finger, she heard an old-fashioned bell ringing somewhere inside. A smartly dressed, middle-aged woman opened the door. The smell of floor polish wafted across her light floral perfume.

  “You must be Katy!” Her coral lipstick was shimmering as she spoke, “I’m Lavinia! Come in, come in!”