* * *
I turned my attention back to the trail that day. “You said I had selfish intentions, going off by myself and not telling anyone but Ray. But I was all conflicted that day.” I knew it was an excuse and I sensed that Counselor wasn’t buying it. But it just made me try all the more to justify my ‘selfish intentions.’ I could tell my aura was shaking like a filmy silk gown might do around a body, if I had one. I guess it was nervousness. “A lot of thoughts were running through my head that day.” I said. I wasn’t really wanting to share them with these ‘people.’ How could they understand? But I plunged ahead. “I had a lot of frustrated energy in me, I was ready to hike hard and fast, and just let my body collapse. I was also thinking about the river job I’d just accepted. As one of the guides, I’d be taking little kids on rubber rafts down the Poudre River for a few miles. There could be some good runs in the spring when melting snow made the river fast and exciting. Kids were thrilled to be splashed and jounced and scared a bit. As a guide I’d yell them instructions over the roar of the river, and always there’d be a chance for a raft to get caught up on debris, or spill its occupants. So it took skill and responsibility and risk.” I looked at the group trying to size up their thoughts. Salvador was still looking off in the direction David had gone. Ruth and Gail were attentive, though. And Counselor.
“Were you scared of that?” Gail asked.
“Not really,” I said. “I was more scared of disappointing Mom and Dad. They’d have been proud if I had become a ranger, especially in one of the national parks. But I’d have had to go back and finish college.”
“So, why didn’t you?” Gail persisted.
I shrugged. That is, my aura kind of lifted and fell. “I simply had no enthusiasm for it.” In fact, thinking about it made me sick. Like, right in the gut. A feeling of dread. I didn’t have an explanation for it. Counselor was eyeing me. Could she see something I didn’t?
“And marriage wasn’t for you either,” Counselor said, as if urging me on. Did one have to tell everything?
“Yeah. Too many of my friends were married and divorced, or living together unmarried. Some had children and passed them back and forth. It didn’t look right.”
“So you were thinking that day about what you were living for?” Counselor asked. How did she get into my thoughts that way? It was sort of scary.
“Well, I was thinking, here I am already 26 years old, with no great goal like you’re supposed to have. I knew I could support myself and have fun. Or help others have fun. But in the end, what was the point? Ray and his friends were wanderers. Ray was ok, but I didn’t like his friends. They just weren’t nice people, to be honest. And the river runners, ski bums, cave explorers, mountain climbers, all had that obsessiveness to achieve and mark their accomplishments as if that were what made them important. That didn’t appeal either. So, what was it all for? Life.” I remembered kicking at the rocks on the trail as I trudged along. At some points the trail was so dusty it covered your boots. Sometimes people had stepped off the trail so many times it had been widened. Between the tree roots and big rocks to avoid, you had to watch your step to keep from slipping or stumbling.
“I was pushing myself pretty hard that day,” I said. Salvador looked skeptical. I figured that was because he had never hiked a mountain trail. Gail and Ruth seemed interested. I think it just proved to them why my mother worried about me. David was still gone from the group, but his tether of white was still visible, which said to me he would have to come back sooner or later. But I didn’t care whether he was interested in my story or not. I went on.
“I began breathing heavily even before the trail got steep. Then there were switchbacks, so your feet got twisted around sometimes trying to keep in the path. I felt the blood pounding at my temples and the beginning of a headache. I knew I should stop and rest but that desire to punish the body was strong, and I kept going. I remember pulling out the small water bottle from its holder on my belt and finished it off as I walked. That was my big mistake. As I tipped it up to get the last drop I couldn’t see my feet or the trail and down I went. It was so humiliating. I automatically reached out to catch myself, but even so my face hit the dirt and rocks and split my lip. It started bleeding and I got really dizzy. Guess I hit my head, too. So I sat there a bit. When I tried to get up my pack wouldn’t move. It was caught on something. I had to loosen up the straps and slip out of it. Then I just sat there, letting the world spin and my stomach lurch, reminding me of the one time I was actually drunk.
“While I was sitting there pondering the situation, I heard voices. Pretty soon a couple of women appeared and stopped in front of me on the narrow path. They asked me if I were all right. I said yes, of course. Who wants to admit they’re not all right?” I smiled at the listeners. They smiled back. So, they knew what I meant. “The women were outfitted with overnight packs and as we talked they invited me to join them. They were headed for Lake Isabelle, on over the Divide and down a way.” I motioned with my aura hand, trying to indicate a mountain with its two sides where water runs down on both and makes for rivers running in different directions, one east and one west. But this wasn’t a lesson in geography. I sighed and rushed on with my story.
“The women suggested I could have suffered a concussion and probably shouldn’t be left alone. Well, it was after noon by then, and their offer was tempting. We talked over the fact that they had overnight permits and I didn’t. But if a ranger did come along it could be explained that this was an emergency. One of them expressed a concern that I might need medical help, but I insisted that wasn’t the case. At that point I felt an evening of rest with them was just the answer. Let Ray worry when he didn’t find me at Brainard Lake to pick me up. I had assured him I could take care of myself, hadn’t I? And I was. These women seemed quite comfortable with the idea of getting me to their campsite and watching over me. I gathered they didn’t mind breaking rules and challenging authority, either. That in itself intrigued me, so I took them up on their offer. They helped me up. Before I put my daypack back on, I got out the big bottle and took a long drink. It still tasted funny. But I thought maybe it was just hot, or my taste buds had gotten shaken up with the spill I had taken. Anyway, I got my pack back on. My lip was bleeding on the inside where my teeth had cut into the flesh. But that was good. It would cleanse the wound and not be so likely to get infected. I used my kerchief to sop up the blood until it stopped. I could wash up at the lake.
“We climbed the last of the switchbacks slowly. Frankly, I was glad to have these women with me. I couldn’t seem to shake the dizziness. And by the time we reached the lake I was so nauseous I had to lie down right away. And then did things spin! I closed my eyes and the world still spun. In spite of that, that night was one of the best I have ever experienced. They set up their tent, made supper, built a fire in the stone ring to protect it from spreading, and treated me like a lost sister. And I let them do it. I was finally able to sit up and eat a few bites of the stew they had heated up from freeze-dried bag on their jet-boil, compressed gas stove.
“The women told stories. They were teachers, about mid-thirties. They reminded me of Maureen, who had been my best friend in high school, and still was. I regretted letting our friendship languish. She really was a nice person, and had moved out to Colorado on my suggestion. But she didn’t enjoy the outdoors like I did. I could sense that when she was with me hiking, or river rafting, that she was tolerating it, not enjoying it. So I didn’t push her. And then, I’d actually had the nerve to call her and ask for money to pay off Sally when he threatened to tell lies about me.” I glanced over at Salvador then, forgetting for a moment that he was there. He looked startled. But I went on anyway.
“I can’t believe I stooped to such a thing,” I said, then frowned, and inwardly thought I’m admitting that I valued Maureen more than I valued Salvador. And in this place, was that permitted? I didn’t know. But Counselor didn’t say anything. So
I went on.
“And then, when Maureen confided in me that she’d had an abortion, I didn’t respond very well. I should have been more sympathetic. I should have got her to talking more about what all that had meant. And I didn’t. So all these things were on my mind on the trail. And being with these women, it seemed I could admit to all my shortcomings. They were really understanding. Yes, that night, around a campfire, well protected in its ring of rocks, we talked and talked under the stars, the nearly moonless sky, the dark surrounding us except for the lake that reflected the light of the fire and the stars. It was like another world for a while. They told of their troubles. Men who had tried to befriend them, but just didn’t have the same perspective of a woman. Love, to men, was different. More physical, less the deeper innerness of feeling. That didn’t mean emotion. Feeling. The women tried to put it into better words, but could find none. Still, I think I knew what they meant.”
As I was going on and on in this way, Counselor seemed pleased. The others listened politely. Sally/Salvador continued to look defensive, but stayed perfectly still, which surprised me. It must have been something Counselor was doing that made this truth-telling, this openness, possible. Maybe the drink she had offered earlier made us rise above the human qualities of resentment, fear, meanness, one-upmanship, criticism, and all that led humans to hurt each other.
“You want to give Salvador a chance to respond?” the Counselor asked. I shrugged. It didn’t matter to me much; this was all past history. It was beginning to feel like the story of some other person, as if I were only reciting it to get it out of the way.
“You!” Salvador exploded, the purplish auras around his face jumping around in agitation with disgust and jealousy. “Men are just physical handicaps, is that it? Just clumsy, dumb brutes? Is that what you think? Well, for all your big college education, and all that fancy gear and clothing your rich father got for you, and all those free nights in a fancy cabin, you can’t figure out a practical joke so you stumble around and bang your head on a rock? That’s your fancy end? That’s the life story of Cassy the Great?” He threw up his aura hands with great swaths of lights, and moved them around in large waves of undulating colors that reminded me of flying squirrels, bats, or large predator birds that inhabited Earth.
“Well, aren’t you the spectacle,” exclaimed Ruth, who was standing calmly in her pale blue aura that fit like a lovely cloak over a slim body. “We welcomed all sorts of people at the cabin. They could be hikers, climbers, boaters, motorcyclists, nature lovers, music lovers, and even once in a while—but not while I was alive—the gun shooters. If you didn’t like the company you were in, Salvador, you could have found plenty of others more to your liking.”
Counselor turned toward Salvador then and asked him whether he had chosen to be with motorcyclists. He admitted he had. “And you admired them?” she asked.
He waited a moment then said yes. “And you chose to be with them even when they ridiculed you for wearing shiny silk shirts, played the guitar, and sang romantic songs which they also made fun of?” Counselor asked. I was surely surprised at her bluntness.
Salvador blushed, as much as an aura being can. His agitation did seem to settle, as he concentrated on what Counselor had said.
“Choices are what lead human beings to their next life steps,” Counselor said. “Didn’t you notice, in your life on Earth, that you were presented with many possibilities?” We all looked at her and thought about what she said. She was probably right, but it seemed complicated to me. So much of life was moving from one event to another without much thinking about it. Making choices sounded like taking responsibility for what happened to you. And that was rather unsettling.
“What you choose changes the environment around you. Earth scientists call them paradigm shifts. Choices move your consciousness to another set of possibilities, and leads to the consequences of those choices.” Counselor homed in on Salvador again. “Choosing to be with those motorcyclists who chose not to like you, did what for you?”
Salvador’s eyes bugged. “Brought me here, that’s for sure. They were the ones that killed me, I’m just a sure as I can be.” His aura took on a horrible look of fear, anguish, despair, with lightning-like waves striking this way and that around him. In that moment something opened up like a big movie screen showing for a swift moment a motorcycle being tipped on its side, slipping along on gravel, dust flying, until it suddenly stopped and all was quiet. And from that mess of machinery rose a white, film-like form which we knew instinctively was the soul of Salvador, now with us.
“Guess you bumped your head, too,” I said, a bit sarcastically perhaps. I dipped my ‘head’ so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “Any blood?” David had said he looked at his bloody body and didn’t care to return to it. I looked up then, just to see his expression.
“No blood. No pain,” Salvador said, in a triumphant note, as if to say his death was better performed than others. “Too sudden.” He gave a quirky smile. “Didn’t have to wait around for months not knowing exactly when it was coming.”
Gail related to that. The aura around her nodded and sighed. “It was the loss of energy that got to me,” Gail explained. “Cancer has a way of sapping the strength slowly so that you keep hope for a while, then you begin to realize this is the real beginning of the end. That’s when you start thinking about what’s going to happen after...you know, you leave your body.” She laughed. That is, her aura jiggled. “I didn’t think of it that way at first. I was one who thought, oh, when you’re dead, you’re gone. And then you start searching. I read books. I visited different churches. I wanted to find someone who could tell me, convincingly, what was After Life. Well, it didn’t take long to discover that you could find just about anything to answer that question. My husband thought one would be remembered by the things they left, or the children and grandchildren that carried your genes. You could have your name put on bricks at your old high school, or college, or church. You could leave money in a trust fund. That was good enough for my husband. But it didn’t satisfy me. I kept looking.” Gail stopped and looked over at Counselor. “Was it you that started coming to me?” Gail asked
Counselor said, “There are many of us who watch over human beings that are preparing to pass over. We know that it is a special time in their lives and have devoted ourselves to learning how to be the loving mother or father each soul longs for.” Counselor smiled. She looked up and out beyond our group. We followed her eyes. There, in the background we saw a host of aura beings illuminating what might be described as the sky. “Humans are never alone, even though most of them don’t realize it,” she added. “There is never a time in their lives in which they are alone. But they don’t believe.”
“But was it you?” Gail persisted.
“We are all One,” Counselor responded.
Gail looked a bit disappointed, but then she brightened. “Well, I did come to believe someone was with me. My husband, of course, was very attentive. He was so patient. Sometimes, when I got irritable from pain and frustration, he got a bit restless and irritable himself. But we had a wonderful daughter who came and took over from time to time. Even though she had a responsible job and was a couple thousand miles away, she came. I was very grateful and so fortunate to have family that loved and cared.”
“Yes, you chose your family well,” Counselor said.
“Chose,” Gail repeated. “I don’t understand that concept, even though since coming here it’s been a talking point in more than one class.”
Ruth laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s as if nothing is random or accidental. We go to these observation rooms and look at the various ‘plays’ that appear to be going on. Sometimes when you see a group interacting you realize that it was your family in that last lifetime. Or sometimes it was a former lifetime, part of which has carried over.”
Salvador snorted. “Yeah, this choice stuff I don’t understand. Like, someone tried to tell me I chose my p
arents. Well, I didn’t choose my parents,” he insisted. “And they didn’t choose me, either. They made that clear.”
“The choice may have been because you needed to learn what rejection felt like. In former lives you had the habit of persecuting those who weren’t like you. That’s a lesson many have to learn,” Counselor said.
“How do you know?” Salvador demanded.
“She knows everything,” Ruth said. Her elongated blue aura made her look regal and shrewd, as if she was an old soul, having lived through many incarnations. “You don’t want to challenge Counselor,” she added with a persuasive smile.
Gail nodded. “All the counselors are perfected beings, Salvador. They are all around us to help. But we have to ask them to help, too. They can’t make you do anything, or believe anything. But when you choose to learn more, they will give you the opportunity. I should know.” Gail’s aura puffed out like a vaporous white curtain with a playful breeze dancing it about. “I was just as skeptical as you at one point in my Life journeys.”
“Gail’s last life time gave her the love of family that she had earned from a past life where she hid others during a war where they were being pursued. She endangered her own life time and again until she was finally caught and killed. But that was a quick death. Now she has put that behind her,” Counselor explained. Gail looked surprised, and humbled.
“So she’s ready to choose who will be in her next life?” I asked, being more and more curious as the talk of choice was pursued.
Counselor smiled. “You all will be doing that.”
It made me wonder whether that was the purpose of this group I was in. Which didn’t make me entirely happy. I could see having Gail and Ruth in my life. But Salvador? Un-uh. Or David the Torch. How did I deserve them?
That thought brought me to Counselor’s attention. “You deserve what you attract. Salvador came into your life because you were getting reckless with yours, and he envied that casualness you portrayed. He watched to see what you would do next.”
“He didn’t just watch! He butted right in! Threatened me!”
Salvador grinned, his aura more relaxed and colored with light greens and yellows, as if he had won a point. It was infuriating. It felt like he was trying to place himself into my next life as a little brother that would be a lot worse than Louise had ever been. “He’s not going to be in my life!” I tried to shout. My ‘voice’ didn’t go far, the vibrating waves coming from my ‘mouth’ simply disappearing into the general atmosphere. I turned to Counselor. “That’s a choice I have, right?”
“Yes,” she said. “But if you want to master the art of calm, strong, intentionality, rather than destructive reactions, you might consider taking him on. He might have something to learn from you, too. He might learn to work with you, rather than trying to get something out of you.”
Salvador stopped grinning. I could see him thinking about what was being said. “Maybe he would like to find a Cause that would make the Earth a better place. Maybe you could both find a Cause to work for together,” Counselor said.
I shook my head. Salvador snorted. Counselor said, “It was just a suggestion. Perhaps there are other things to work on that are more important.” She turned, and pointed out toward the horizon where a figure was coming slowly toward us. In his hands, he gathered up his tether, much like a mountain climber recoils his rope after a climb.
Exploring Cassy Page 3
