Galactic Maya

Glimpses into wider realities and observations during life on planet Earth

Page 10

March 08, 1998: Today, I came one step closer to manifesting a growing urge to be in the Southwest.  I was driving by an auto dealership when I saw MY VAN!  It was displayed in such a way as to allow me to see it diagonally.  It gleamed with the suns rays.   Immediately I said “Oh, there you are!  Just like I pictured you!”
So, today I traded in the old Corsica and now own a van conversion.  I had to just laugh when I saw Poppy’s eyes grow so large as I pulled up into the driveway.
When I first stepped onto the car lot a salesman was right there, of course.  I had some questions he could not answer and he was looking for the manager.  Then, the oddest thing happened.
The salesman spotted him on the next lot and waved him over.  As he came within earshot, the manager yelled out my name as he greeted us!  I have no idea how he knew my name, especially after we began talking and he told me he was from Egypt!  He never did answer my questions, but he did talk about the pyramids for some reason.  He said that the capstone of each and every Egyptian pyramid was once in perfect alignment with the sun.  The belief is still strong that the Pharaohs themselves were from distant planets, he said.
As I stood there in one of those out-of-time moments, as has been happening quite a bit these days, I was struggling to logicalize how this conversation had started.   What did finding my van have to do with Egyptian pyramids?
Another part of my brain was saying This is one of those messenger moments, isn’t it.
And yet another part was wondering why it was that selling me a van was not at the center of this odd, spontaneous encounter.  He finally walked off.  But he turned back and said “You should name your new van “Hatshepshut.”
I replied “What is that?”  He cracked a smile and said “She was the great pharaoh in Egypt after Thutmose II (or III).”
A female Pharaoh?  Cool!  This journey is becoming more intriguing by the moment.

March 10, 1998: Lloyd Bridges passed away today.  I share the same birthday and year as his son Jeff and I see that Lloyd Bridges was a Capricorn like my dad.   I had written about that just a few months ago; I wonder if Jeff Bridges’ mother is or was a Pisces?  We both have fathers who have enjoyed acting.  He got the famous father but to me, my father is a shining star and inspiration for me.  I would not change fathers for the world.  I’m sure Jeff would say that, too.  Goodbye, Mr.Bridges.  It has been a joy seeing you on the screen over the years.

March 12, 1998: Bandit has begun sleeping on Poppy’s bed!  He never even went onto his bed before.  I couldn’t find him tonight but then spotted him on Poppy’s bed, and as I looked at him, he shot a glance at me that said “I’m staying here with him, now.”   Poppy said it was fine with him, so end of story, I guess.  But, interestingly, I noticed that the velvet-framed picture of him and mom that had for so long remained rather obscurely on his desk in the den is now sitting on the dresser next to his bed.  Mom is really working with him now.  That’s why he decided to go back to sleeping there.

March 13, 1998: Plutonian energies are beginning to emerge from the dark depths.  A subversive wave is rocking America now.  President Clinton represents progressive ideals and the so-called “moralists” in this country—and I think foreign countries have a hand in this; in fact, I think Jerry Falwell’s agenda is far, far more sinister than ranting about gays and sexcapades—are engaged in a desperate attempt now underway to bring Clinton down and it has very little, if anything, to do with sex and morals in the oval office.
A path is being cut with a mighty sword.  It is almost as though there is a race against time in the world of politics—those with powers we think only happen in mystical movies are aware that whoever has the power in America over the next 12 years, has the power to shut down the Light that is coming in to heal this planet.  These forces are as desperate as drowning rats to remove Clinton.
This is not to say that Clinton is a bed of roses;  anyone who strives to be at the seat of power has a hidden agenda somewhere, but these forces are laboring over probably the only thing that will keep the masses distracted from what’s really going on behind-the-scenes—subversion.  Most of us are just not willing to admit that the Emperor (or the Evil Empire?) is, indeed, not wearing any clothes.  I am convinced now that America is on the verge of a “religious” war…which will have very little to do with religion and even less to do with what side of the aisle you are on in Congress.

March 15, 1998: Poppy absolutely amazed me today!  He mowed the lawn, went shopping, did a load of laundry, then came into the house and said “I am going to paint the house this weekend.”  I was very concerned for him, but it occurred to me that if Poppy were to have died right in the middle of mowing the lawn, he would have been happy.  I’ve begun to see that it is rather selfish to treat the dying as though they are fragile, breakable people that we need to fuss with and force our views onto.  So, if Poppy wants to paint the house, let him do it!  I doubt that he will even pick up the brush, but at least he will have maintained the dignity due to him.
As much as I am grateful for organizations like Hospice, I am beginning to see that Poppy is celebrating his life now; why would I want to keep reminding him it is almost over?

St. Patrick’s Day, 1998: Just what is going on?  Poppy came running out of his bedroom this morning and with the best whisper he could manage, he said:
“Honey!  I can’t believe it!  I’m not coughing this morning!  Did you notice?”
At first I started to say you really should try to cough up the stuff in your lungs so it won’t sit there. but the stark negativity of that thought just caught me in midstream.  I suddenly was so aware how often we qualify something good with something negative.  Instead, I said “Poppy, you sound MAR-vel-lous“.  Bandit was right behind him and he looked spry and happy, too!  I love these moments.

March 18, 1998 Dream:

I see a beautiful, dazzling (gold?) pillow with jewels of all colors upon it. Particularly, a red/ruby stone. It is then held in front of me with unseen hands. I also recall lying my head on a most beautiful bunched-linen cloth. My cheek feels the beauty of it and I smile as though cuddling a baby. Then a woman, perhaps of Asian/Indian or Mediterranean descent, comes and relates a poignant story to me. Her face is weathered and old; a shawl or blanket covers her head. I feel empathy for her and her sad story, but she does not seem at all disturbed with the story—just reflective and thoughtful.

(Later): The cable company unplugged the cable lines to work on them, so Poppy played the organ.  He and mom used to love playing.  They both just played by ear.  Poppy chose to play Ave Maria, Swan Lake, Music of the Night, and Some Enchanted Evening.
It did not matter to me that he often inserted his own creative style to the songs, and this morning as I closed my eyes to listen, I could swear that a dozen angels were accompanying him in song.  It was magical.

March 19, 1998: I could not fall to sleep tonight, even with Ovaltine.  I kept getting a gnawing sense that I needed to do something, but I could not place what that was.  But as I finally began to drift off, I felt a “nudge” to try and focus on connecting psychically with Poppy while he lie asleep in his bed.  I made a few efforts but kept getting distracted by mundane thoughts.  I sensed a gentle patience around me, though.  Finally, I felt I was being prompted to scan his body.  At first I was frustrated, but then I succeeded I think; I saw a light-gray glow or fog around Poppy’s head.  As I reached out to feel it, it was like plasma!  Much like Poppy had described his own experience last week.  It became like a black hole with just tinges of red color surrounding it.  Then I was distracted again.
I really need to learn to CONCENTRATE AND FOCUS!  I can almost hear my spiritual guides saying to each other are you SURE she is up for this?  He, he.
(Later): While sitting side-by-side in our chairs watching CNN, the TV suddenly went dark again.  I looked up to see that Poppy was staring at me, ready to release a deep thought.  He stood and came over to me and removed pen and paper from my hands.  He then took my hands up in his and, again, he tried to express the deep regret that he and mom had not been there for me during some of my darkest times.  At first I reacted with my typical Oh, don’t worry about it, I’m fine mask, but Poppy was not about to let this moment go without getting the whole thing out of his system.  He wanted me to know how they regretted their denial after the rape in 1979, the denial after the night in 1980 when a young 14-year-old boy, with delusions that I looked like his (abusive) mother, took a knife and threatened me within an inch of my life, not coming to visit me at hospital when I had the “functional breakdown” (as they preferred to call a nervous collapse) back in 1986.  “Your mother and I had always seen you as the strong one in the family”, he said.
I was beginning to feel uneasy now.  “We just could not accept that things like that could happen to you, that maybe, somehow, we had contributed to that.”  He just folded my hands tightly into his, and the tears were welling up in both our eyes.  The silence was long and healing.  Yes, healing.
Today, I do believe my parents returned my life to me.  They have acknowledged me on an emotional level, and I cannot even express right now how that feels in my heart.  At some point in time, perhaps I will be able to find the right words to describe the liberation Poppy and I feel today.  There are no words today that can possibly convey this.  I am very much aware right now how sad it is that he will be leaving.  He and I have become so bonded.

March 23, 1998: Breaking news!  Boris Yeltsin has just fired the entire Russian government!  Wow!  The CNN reporter in Moscow just said “There seem to be two schools of thought on this:  It could be a good thing, or it could be a bad thing.”  DUH! And the masses rely on the media for news of the world? My cat could have figured that one out.

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Written by Galactic Maya

March 15, 2008 at 5:10 pm

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