Expectancy

I have a laptop! It belongs to my host here in Barcelona.She hasn't a clue what to do with it, and it was not working, but she got it working this morning, called in a techie from the phone company, and now I am on wireless!

 

Yipee!

 

And I have a phone card which I can use on her phone. So I can call the people in Barcelona that are involved in the Course, and the Unity Church, and the people from Barcelona who I met in Formentara and Valencia, etc.

 

Now, you want to hear the latest? Of course you do. 

 

You already know the story of how Sonia Haynes, the lovely Jamaican "intuitive" that I met in  the cafe in the Lonsdale Quay market who, moments after the Voice had asked me why I didn't go to Spain, asked me if I going to Spain! I told her that driving to the market, not five minutes earlier, I had heard a voice suggest that I go to Spain. With the hair on her arms standing on end, she said that she now knew why she had come to the market that day to sell her meditation CD's. Not a single person had even stopped to talk to her all day. She proceeded to give me a full-blown reading right then and there. She told me that  I would meet the love of my life in a cafe in Barcelona.

 

You may remember some of the details of that prophecy that I shared with you; the fact that she described the relationship as "yummy, yummy, yummy!" She also descrilbed it in other ways. She told me that he was a great cook, a brilliant Renaissance man who spoke five languages, that he was an articulate, and charismatic man, that there wasn't anything he couldn't do. 

 

In fact, she described the man I had visualised and written about two weeks earlier during a course with my good friend Miriam Evers. I had written that in Europe I met a Renaissance man who spoke five languages and had a house in Europe. I had written that we would buy a house in Ireland together, where I could write. When I told her this, Sonya said, "No, not Ireland. Spain."

 

She told me that I would hear him before I saw him, and as soon as I heard his thickly accented voice, I would know it was him, and I would be terrified, I would want to run away, because I had been through a relationship that hurt me so much that I never wanted to feel that way again. She said that once I accepted that this was it, I would be absolutely besotted with him. She saw me looking up at him, in the cafe, mesmerized, as he talked. That was the only question I had for her, "Is he articulate?" Most of the people I meet don't even know the meaning of that word. After my last relationship with a man who couldn't spell, and knew nothing of the world, either politics or literature or anything else outside of his small world, I knew that was essential for me.

 

Here in Spain and Morroco many, many men have tried, but only one of them, the professor in Morroco even came close to being what I am looking for. A Brilliant, spiritual, successful man is not so easy to find, I guess! But well worth the wait, I am sure.

 

What a blast, someone who I actually want to listen to! And will shut up for! Someone who can teach me something!

She saw us travelling together, she saw me with my glasses on the end of my nose, painting on a beach in Greece in my two piece Mediterranean blue bathing suit, which she described to a "t." That particular piece is what hooked me, it was so accurate in the way she described the bathing suit I have been wearing here, the bathing suit I bought in Sarasota after I talked with my parents in "rehabilitation." By the way, my mother also said she went to school every day, and that she had a teacher and his name was Tan! Sounds Chinese to me. I wonder if he has "raven blue-black" hair?

 

She said that he had loved deeply once, and lost that love, and had been waiting and hoping for another, but he did not believe it was possible. She told me that his guides were telling him that I was coming and to wait for me. She also told me that the metaphor for the relationship was that he would hold me in his hands, and protect me so that I could grow the rest of the way up, because I had not had the protection I needed when I was a child. She said he would hurry home when he was away from me, because he could not bear to be parted from me, he loved me so much.

 

You know how, when I was in New York for the Sterling Women's weekend, I met a woman in a clothing shop who told me the clothes in New York were nice, but  I "could do better in Barcelona." 

 

You remember how at the workshop I received a card with a WISH that I would "Hurry home,so that he could hold me in his HANDS so that we could bask in the warmth of our love. "

 

I carry that card with me everywhere, along with a picture of a man who looks like the image I saw that was also on the table at the dinner in New York.

 

Sonya had told me that basically this relationship is a "done deal." I asked Sonia how I should find him. Her answer was blunt and to the point. "Have you never heard of letting spirit guide you?" Seeing that this was not enough, she suggested that I paint his face, which she told me was dark, with a square jaw, that he was my age, and very strong and good looking.

 

Sonya had promised me that she would "hook me up" with him in the Astral Plane. But that did not happen in our session.

But beyond that, seeing that was not enough for me, she suggested that I take what I knew of him, and paint a picture of him.

 

She had already given me more than enough inspiration and information. I decided I could give this to spirit and watch for the signs, which came abundantly, and I could do this myself.

 

So, I hooked up with him myself, in my own way. I did a session on my "Angel Board" which is a sort of protected form of the Ouija board, and, sure enough, just as the spirit came through many years ago and told me, six years before it happened, that my sisters twins were dead in a canoe accident, (I thought both, but it was actually one,)  he came through, powerfully, unmistakeably, definitely. He told me his name, Zoltano Azroff. I knew that that was not a Spanish name. I asked where he was from. He said he was Macedonian. I asked how old he was. He said 60. I asked his birthday. He said November 5th. I asked how I would know him. He said, "I will say your name." Then, as if we were having a conversation, in real life, he paused, and said, "So, What is it?" I spelled out my name for him. And then I put the board away, and lay down on my bed, (where I found angel feathers, as you well know, because you were there when I found one of them.) As I lay looking out the window at the trees in the courtyard, I saw an image forming in the trees. It was an image of a man with a high forehead, a goatee, and a wise and knowing smile. He looked at me as if to say, "This is what I look like."

 

 

She warned me not to be too serious, because this man did not have money worries, he had done his life well, and now he just wanted to have fun!

 

I can handle that. Bring it on!

 

I certainly have had more than my share of fun here. I have had many wonderful experiences, not the least of which was my completely unplanned, spontaneous trip to Morroco, and my meeting with Professor Houssin who may be the one man able and willing to translate the Course into Arabic. The moment when Judith Skutch, now Whitson, the publisher of the Course, who Gary Renard hooked me up with, said, "Shelora, we have been waiting for you,"  is miraculous enough.

 

But I still have this hope that I will find my love. After all, the Course is different from any other spiritual teaching in that it basically says the way to God is two by two, in Holy Relationship, when two become as one. That is what I want, for the rest of my life, with one person with whom I can heal. That is my fervent prayer.Towards that end I have been working with forgiving all thoughts of separation, all ego comparisons, all ideas that I am guilty or separate in any way. I have been healing with my children, my ex husband, my mother, my father, my sister. Forgiving them, forgiving myself for separating myself from them through guilt or blame in any way, I am coming every day to deeper and deeper peace and innocence. I am ready to love again. And this one is for good, forever.

 

Now, of course, the question is, where IS he? How do I find him? I am going to investigate the Course peopIe here in Barcelona. I am going to try to contact this man who looks like the image I saw in the trees. I am going to try to contact Betty in Egypt, where they are travelling together.  I have her itinerary in the Brochure. I am also going to contact the Unity Church. I don't know what else to do. But I am not giving up. There were too many signs and portents.

 

Well, I have been in Europe for almost three months, and no sign of him. I am here in Barcelona sorting out my things and sending anything superfluous home. I am sorting through my papers yesterday, and I find a brochure from the Medium from Sarasota, Florida, Betty MCCormack, who "hooked me up" with my mother and father after my mother's death.

 

I must have told you how they each identified themselves unistakeably, in ways that no one could have told to a fake Medium. I am not sure if I told you that story, but it does not matter so much, except to say that this woman is exceptionally good, and accurate. A messenger extraordinaire.

 

I know that to many it sounds crazy, but she told me that my mother, after begging my forgiveness, saying that she took bad legal advice, and that it was a mistake, said she was working on my sister"Don't underestimate me. I amalready whisperhing in her ear."  to get her to understand that her intention was not to keep the proceeds of the house. She apparently  had actully believed that when the house was sold, which shespecifically had said she DID NOT WANT, that it would be divided between the three of us children, my brother, my sister and I.

 

Now all of this could have come from any mother to any daughter, but I knew it was my mother,  because when I asked what she looked like, she described herself as having "raven blue-black hair." These were the words she used to describe her hair when she was a young girl. In her vanity, she prided herself on the fact that her hair had blue highlights, like a raven´s wing, not red as is more usual.When  I asked how long her hair was, the Medium told me she was shaking her head to show it was long. My mother's hair was to her waist when she was young.That distant memory of my mother's self-description resounded in my mind and heart, and I was, at that moment convinced that this was actually my mother speaking through this medium, who kept reminding me that she was just a messenger.  

 

 

Through this messenger, my mother recounted that the skin on her face was not wrinkled any more.She said that the skin under her arms did not sag any more. She said something that she always used to say when she was alive, "Old age is for old people. It is not all it's cracked up to be. She always used to say, "The Golden Years are not so golden."  But, fromwhere she is now, she said, "It is golden now!" Remember, my mother was 93 years old, when she died. I asked her where my mother was. She replied that she was in "rehabilitation." She then told the medium that I should follow the gold bar and that would lead me forward. She did not understand that, and nor did I until later when I realized that she had meant the golden rule, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." And then my father came through, told me that it was good to see me and my mother back together again, that there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, that all things come to those who wait, that my day was coming, "Bastille Day." tThat mystified the Medium but was entirely clear to me. She asked me what that meant, was I French. "No," I said, "That is my birthday." Then my father told me to go ahead with my project, to "take it to the nucleus, and take it to the stars, and it would have great implications for humanity." He told me that he would help me to write the story. I asked him how, and he responded, "air writing." I guess that meant that he would talk to me through the air.

 

So, those are my marching instructions from my father. Since then he has appeared to me in the form of a Voice, and in the form of Light, in colours that are beautiful beyond belief. Opalescent, shimmering, on the water, or the snow, or any other place where white light is reflected intensely: I see navy blue, torquoise, lime green, mauve, pink, gold, dazzling shimmering, transparent colours, like a gell over thelight. My father's voice says, "This is what it looks like in Heaven. Glorious, isn't it?" Yes, it is. And so it is.  

 

My children do not believe me. They think I am crazy, that I am making it up. They do not believe that I saw Christ, either. But that is ok. It is not necessary for them to believe for it to be true.In fact, no matter how much of a case you make against yourself, no matter how fool-proof it is, it is not God-proof. The only case that God has against you is if you forget who you really are, and his only message is to restore you to your original innocence. This is where religion, with all its guilt and sin goes wrong. God is not about revenge. In fact, in the Course, Jesus clears that misconception up for once and for all. He talks about how the ego uses Scripture, the Bible, to justify its horrible, evil perception of the world, and of God, which it does not believe in at all, by saying "Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord" and "The sins of the fathers will be visited unto the fourth generation." Jesus explains that this particularly vicious interpretation is completely incorrect, and that the purpose of saying Vengeance is mine is to take the whole idea away from humanity, and that the opportunity for healing will be visited upon the children, so that they may see the situation with new eyes, even unto the fourth generation, and, I am sure, beyond. So my children will understand some day, just as my mother had to die before she understood what she had resisted all her life, that ONLY LOVE IS REAL, and it cannot be threatened or destroyed.The crucifixion is one more piece of nonsense that Christ clarifies as unreal. He did it to demonstrate that the pain and suffering of the body is not real, that only eternal life is real. We DO NOT DIE! We are energy, vibration, and we live one long life, lasting tens of thousands of years. All that happens is that we change form. When I asked my mother how it was to die, she said, with her usual brevity. "Not bad."

 

 And so, in this lifetime, I have been blessed with memories of past lives, with the ability to see, vision, or clairvoyance, to hear, clairaudience, and to intuit, clairsentience. It scares a lot of people, but I cannot be silenced now. I have important work to do. And I am doing it! What a privilege it is to be able to extend the gift of healing that I have been given. I am filled with gratitude and wonder, every day.

 

So, yesterday, I looked at the brochure and saw shining out from it, the very face I saw in the trees. His name is Csonger Daniel. He is an internationally known healer, lecturer, and writer. His publications include: "Biotherapy: A Healing for the 21stCentury" Right now he is in Egypt with Betty McCormack, the woman who spoke with my parents and interpreted their messages to me. She is incredible.

 

I will now attempt to find him on the internet.