Writing Nibble

I said I am going to spice up my blog and I mean it. 

I am going to use this photo when I post some of my poems and snippets: snippets in this case being the beginning of the book I have been writing for several years now. Why so long? Distance. I've needed some.  The two main characters in this book are so far out I've struggled to make them believable. I'm not done yet (but almost). 

Here is what may well be the opening pages.  My writing teacher says I should NOT be revealing any of this until I'm done, and not on my blog, But it's a new day and my way. :^)

Sorry about the spacing problems. Here goes: 

Preface

Some of this story is true and some of it isn’t. A wise reader will probably figure that part out. Please don’t ask me. I have enough angst worrying about Bee’s reaction and whether Catherine will sic a Filipino dragon on me.  

Also, don’t ask me if hearts heal. I have no idea.

Chapter

Donna lives in one of the Carolina’s and says she services the world.Given the fact that I spoke with her from a parking facing the ConnecticutRiver, I suppose that could just as well be true.

I found Donna  through Allison, a member of my writing group, who sought her out because of a confusing love hate relationship with her therapist Sylvia. Donna’s advice to Allison,mirroring my own take on her messy mess, was so spot on that I readily agreed to the $ 120 fee for a telephonic one hour past life reading of my own. 

When I contact her, emails me a  a questionnaire and email it back to her. She wants some history, some 

birth dates,some idea of my motivation.  We book a time two weeks in advance and I 

hope that she will tell me the situation is  not as bad as I know it is.

I am returning from Trader Joe’s when it’s time for me to call her. 

I pull into the river rest area and steer my car to a shaded spot encased by 

overgrown maple trees. 

Donna gets right to the point. “Use the information I tell you as a tool to heal 

yourself and also to heal others. That is the purpose here. First I am going to  

review the information you sent me by email.”

She proceeds to question me as if she is hearing it for the first time.

What is your full name?

Your birthdate and time?

What do you want to know?

What is this woman’s name and birthdate?

“Okay, Casey,” she says. “I am going to be silent while I tune into your pictures.This is what happens: I see pictures.  If you don’t hear my voice within three minutes, say something. This is important in the event that  we’ve become disconnected as opposed to me concentrating on the internal pictures that I will be viewing.”  

I nod. Then, remembering this is a phone call, I almost whisper, “Yes, Donna, okay.”

“I will be focusing on several of your last past lives,” she explains. “I don’t predict the future. It is up to you to learn what you need to know from the past.”

Donna goes silent. I wait until she speaks again.

“You have to have compassion,” she begins. Her voice is strong. “Catherine was your mother. She was a really good mother but she had a personality weakness. It was the culture of the time: women were subordinate to men, the only exceptions were witches and bitches and seducers. If you can understand this, you’ll have compassion for Catherine.”

“She was married with two children. Her husband went off to fight and she became pregnant from another man. She had the baby and she put off what to do. You were that child.”

“She worried, There was no way she could stand up about it, she had no plan. When someone spotted her husband coming home, the news spread. She grabbed you up, you were four years and one month old. She ran with you through the woods to a place where there was a dug out well four feet across the bottom. It was covered up with logs. She thought she could talk to him first and she’d come back for you, she snuck back and gave you some food.”

“You couldn’t get out on your own. It was fifteen feet deep. You had one blanket, you were emotionally paralyzed. She doesn’t know what approach to take. On the second day she comes back, you are really scared. You think she doesn’t love you, your world was her face. She is paralyzed too. You cry, you are so afraid.” 

Donna stops at this point. Her affect is shifting. Her voice is softer. “There was a huge storm. You drowned. You died on the fifteenth day. You couldn’t reason at four years old. The whole world was caving in around you, even though there were people around. You died with intense craving and fear and confusion, an utter emotional state.”

“Jesus,” I say. This is chilling. And familiar. 

“And now? Can Catherine and I find our way back to each other?”

Donna is quick to respond. “I know nothing about the future. I can only help you understand the past. YOU have to pick that baby up. You do it, in your mind, as if you were some woman who stumbled through the woods who really wanted that child. This is the energy between saving yourself and being a victim.”

“You want Catherine to save you from these torrid feelings you’re having and she never will. So how is the best way to die? Die in that life knowing the truth. Be like two to four year olds: someone gives you the information that your mother loves you. She loved you but know you are going to lose your mind, you slipped away into hallucinations. There was no clarity at death, Death was a gift.” 

“Your choice is you will never let go or you will leave in harmony and peace without her. You are like a bulldog that won’t let go. That is a beautiful quality you have—you are a person who gets what she wants, you fight for what’s most important—that’s an incredible gift you have.” 

“But the bigger picture is how to be comfortable when you’re out of control. Your healing comes from creating things you cannot control and sitting with them. Let things go into chaos.  Let things be out of control.”

“The day will come when you can turn your energy with Catherine toward merging your heart and mind with God. You’re on the right track.”

I am frozen in my silence. Donna continues.

“It’s a hopeless relationship. You should climb fast away thinking she will make you happy. You will be completely liberated. You will help others from permanently suffering. You will merge with God. Pray for the faith and determination to make that your focus.” 

“You cannot be part of the family. Have compassion for her.”

I start to cry. You cannot be part of the family.  I know my deepest pain comes from this reality. I have not known this until now.

“God is giving you Catherine’s non desire for you. You are screaming, ‘No, I don’t want that!’ The fifth pathway of the chakras: The supreme way is not difficult if only you do not pick and choose.The only cause of suffering is craving.” 

Donna stops. “That is all I have to say.” 

Stunned, I ask her if it makes sense to talk again, knowing she had had three sessions with Allison. 

“No,” she says. “I have told you everything. You are on a remarkable path. That’s the thing for you to know.”