Dancing in the Light (38 page)

“So many people,” said Chris, “are moving so swiftly into their understanding of these dimensions. It has changed their lives and the lives of those around them. Their lives are becoming more positive in every way.” She looked down at her bare feet. “The world may seem to be in a polarized mess right now, but there are new human beings ready to make a breakthrough. The bell doesn’t toll until the time is ready. And the time is now. People are beginning to understand that. Their spiritual understanding is so much more powerful than their intellectual understanding.
That
is what will prevent us from blowing ourselves up.”

As we sat together, I was once again reminded of my own pursuit. From the time I was small, my curiosity motivated me to search for what I could only define as the missing link. What was it that had compelled me to travel so much for years and years, uncovering whatever I didn’t understand in each foreign culture? Now I understood. I had been searching for a missing dimension in myself that I hadn’t yet touched. I hadn’t realized that what I was looking for was in the backyard of my own spirit. I could sit happily for days having a discussion such as the one I was having now with Chris.

I explained that I was particularly interested in pursuing previous lifetimes with my parents.

“Oh,” she said, “that’s very important. Our parents set the tone for how we’ll ultimately relate to the world. They know our trigger points intimately and unless we can resolve those points with family members, the same fate awaits us in adulthood.”

“Well, Chris,” I said, “don’t our families cause
those conflicts in us just because of what goes on? I mean, I see so many reasons for my own insecurities in my parents. So what’s the big deal in tracing down past-life stuff? Why do I want to do it so much? ”

“Because,” she said, “when you realize that you chose them in order to work through certain emotional problems yourself, you don’t blame them anymore. When you learn not to blame your parents, you learn not to blame anyone else. Family life is the most intense of environments. Each member of the family is keenly intuitive about the behavior of the other. We feel victimized by the family because they start with us when we’re infants. Sometimes we get stuck in the emotional behavior pattern of victimization. Then we choose mates that will perpetuate that addiction to victimization. If we’d just realize that the family choice is one each of us makes in an attempt to clear ourselves of the problem, we wouldn’t extend it into our adult lives. But because we are not aware of our own responsibility in the matter, we abdicate the potential for growth.”

“So,” I said, “the household is the symbol of basic, fundamental emotional drama that we chose to work on?”

“Yes,” said Chris, “and we use families to translate emotional symbols at an early age. For example, a child always relates more to the tone of voice than to the words themselves. The intuitive interplay hones his perceptions so that he can be more discerning in the world. If a child chose a domineering father, it’s because he wants to work out a problem with domination. [Shades of my father.] If a child chooses a passive mother, perhaps the task is to allow the mother to experience what it is to be dominated. [Shades of my mother.] There are so many inner scenarios involved with each human soul. Only the soul knows why it has chosen its drama. And the more the soul understands, the less problems of confusion it will feel.

“You see,” Chris went on, “if we taught our children that they chose us as parents, the child would learn early on to take more responsibility for his fate. That is why enlightenment is so crucial. We are not operating with enough knowledge in our society. This way the child either gives up because of the authority he experiences, or he becomes rebellious. But his soul intuitively knows that he can’t legitimately blame the parent for his situation, whatever it might be. A damaged child
chose
to experience that. And if he can’t resolve it, he carries it forth with him. He’s stuck in victimization and is using it to perpetuate the pattern. A recognition of his own responsibility in the matter would unlock the pattern and he could let it go. But how can he do it if he isn’t taught why he’s there in the first place?”

“Very tough,” I said. “Sometimes I look back and can’t remember how I got into this myself. No one really taught me, although certain individuals set me on a path that helped me search out myself. And when what I learned ‘felt’ right, I knew I had it.”

“Sure,” said Chris, “you can’t go on if you don’t feel it. So how are your mother and father?”

I leaned back in her chair with the tragicomedy of their relationship scampering through my head.

“They’re so wonderful they’re like a soap opera,” I said, laughing. “They are so tied together at every level. I understand myself so much better by watching them interrelate. But sometimes it becomes too much. They must have some incredible karma going with each other.”

Chris giggled, holding her stomach.

“Oh, yes,” she said, “that’s quite clear. The intensity of their commitment is spilling all over the place. I can feel it through you.”

I reflected on how the process of karma worked. It wasn’t chronological and linear. In other words, they might have spent a perfectly placid lifetime in association with each other while they worked out a
more intense karma relating to someone else. It was clear, though, that this time around they were concentrated on each other. They were living a cocoon existence, completely wrapped up in each other, and had done so since I could remember.

“You know,” I said to Chris, “sometimes I get the feeling that I’ve worked out most of my stuff with them except for witnessing what they do to each other. It gets me upset.”

“Sure,” said Chris, “your role this time is probably to point out what they’ve got to learn from each other, rather than how it relates to you.”

Chris got up and led me outside. “Let’s go do some work,” she said.

We walked through a patio area in between her house and her clinic. A tricycle (her youngest daughter’s) rested overturned on its side under an ancient maple tree. Two goats nuzzled each other in their stalls behind a fence and chickens clucked when they heard Chris coming.

Chris’s clinic was behind a glass-enclosed greenhouse where she raised fruit trees and herbal plants. The clinic was one simple room built of stone. Inside the temperature was several degrees cooler than anywhere else. There was a bathroom with an old-style pull-chain flush toilet and a tiled Spanish sunken tub just adjacent to the clinic room.

A wide massage table covered with clean sheets and a blanket stood in the center of the room. There were two windows with rustling trees outside.

I dug out my tape recorder and batteries and tapes. Using an extension cord, I hung the recorder from a hook on the rafter above the table just over where my face would be, so that I could record every nuance of what would occur.

A small table by the door had alcohol, herbal medicines, and Chris’s gold and silver acupuncture needles on top of it.

I undressed and climbed onto the table. I could hear birds chirping from the trees outside. Flies
buzzed around the room from the open door. Chris stretched out her arms and directed the flies toward the open door. Whether it was the arms or the direction, they left. Gently she closed the door and instructed me to relax.

She pulled the needles from their alcohol container and brought them to the table and wiped them dry with clean gauze.

“My guides will help direct me with the needles today,” she said. “They have a chronological plan of working with you during these sessions.”

Chris had her spiritual guides just as I had mine. We both knew they worked together. Her guides were proficient in body meridians and energy points of the body. The primary guide was an ancient Chinese doctor who was always present when she worked.

As soon as I relaxed, I could feel the presence of the other entities in the room. Let me explain. When one works with the help of spiritual dimensional guides, it’s necessary to tune in to their presence. We live and operate in what I would call the visible dimension of life, measured by height, width, breadth, mass, and time. I was learning to recognize the invisible dimension where there are no measurements possible. In fact, it is the dimension of no-height, no-width, no-breadth, and no-mass, and as a matter of further fact, no-time. It is the dimension of the spirit. It cannot be confined or defined and by many people it is not even recognized as reality. But I was learning that the invisible dimensions were, indeed, very real.

Chris went into a moment of meditation as she tuned into her guides. I felt a breath of cold air pass over my body, which always accompanies the presence of a spiritual guide in a room. I began to tune in to the presence of her guides too. I have not yet been able to “see” the energy of the invisible dimension, but she can. She sees their presence in light colors which have form. She also “sees” the auric
field of every human being. In other words, she is what we have come to call a “sensitive.” Her consciousness is specifically aware of energies which most of the rest of us can only assume are there. For example, I “feel” when Ramtha and McPherson are around, but I can’t
see
any evidence of it. I just “know” it and go from there.

“Okay,” she said, “I know what they want me to do. This is going to be a kind of crash course today. Your body is holding certain memories that you need to release. I will place the needles at meridian points that will facilitate the release.”

“You mean,” I said, “that they can
see
the memory patterns my body is holding?”

“Sure,” said Chris. “They see from the dimension of pure energy. Every ceil in your body is holding the energy of experience, not only from this lifetime, but every lifetime. We always have to keep in mind that our concept of linear time is too limited. Holographic time is the actual reality.”

Chris put three very fine, thin gold needles into the Third Eye point in the center of my forehead. She gently twirled them to stimulate the utmost effect. There was some pain.

“I’m using the gold needles today because they stimulate a higher frequency than the silver. You have scar tissue in here,” she said. “Your Third Eye area is holding some traumatic pain. Never mind, you’ll get to it when you’re ready.”

I grunted, but was not too happy about the prospect. I remembered what had happened when I visited the Inca museum in Lima, Peru. I had walked by a glass case that housed several skulls. Each skull had a hole in the center of the forehead. As I gazed at the skulls in horror, I had a strange memory of what it was. The museum keeper had not even needed to tell me that the Inca high priests had chiseled holes in the center of the forehead to open up the psychic energy of the Third Eye. The Third Eye is an especially sensitized area for spiritual awareness.
Clairvoyant capacity, perceptive levels of discernment, the eye of Goa are supposed to center in the Third Eye. It is the eye that “sees” beyond the earth-plane dimension.

Again, Chris twirled the needles. The pain came again. “This is
dense
scar tissue,” she said.

“Well,” I said, “I had a small cancerous growth removed to the side of that area about twelve years ago. Could that have something to do with it?”

“No,” she said, “it’s something more. As a matter of fact, the growth probably came as a reaction to a memory the body was still holding in that area. The body remembers everything. The soul imprint is on every single cell in the body. We carry the memory into each incarnation and those memories need to be resolved and cleared if we are to go on to a higher enlightenment. Total acceptance of experience is what we’re after. That’s what we’re all struggling for. When we totally accept experience without judgment, we are operating on a higher level of understanding and thus a higher frequency. The body, mind, and spirit are then in an aligned enlightenment.”

“So what are these needles doing then?” I asked.

“They are stimulating the body to remember experiences so you can release the trauma. Each energy meridian point is stimulated when I twirl the needles. They then activate the cellular memory in the area. The Chinese were very advanced in this. They knew the body was a messenger system. The body is how we know we’re here in this dimension—the dimension of mass, the dimension of experience. The body never lies. It tells us when we’re sick, when we’re anxious, when we’re in pain. The body knows everything. We don’t listen to it enough. The pain from the needles focuses on what the body remembers and needs to clear. Don’t force anything though. Just let it happen.”

Chris put more gold needles into my upper shoulders and behind my ears. She gently twirled them.

“Now breathe light into the needles. That helps ease the memory pain while stimulating the actual memory.”

Breathe light into the needles? I visualized the location of each needle and projected light into them with my mind. I breathed deeply.

“Now relax,” said Chris. “Let your mind go. Don’t evaluate and don’t let the left brain judge what you are thinking. Give your right brain more space. As a matter of fact, don’t think. Just let the pictures come.”

I breathed more light into the needles as she had instructed. Then I did some deeper breathing. The breath of life, as the Indians called it.
Prana
energy. I lay there wishing there were words in the English language which could more aptly describe the experience. We were so linear-minded, so proof-minded, so suspicious of our own soul power. How could I prove I had a soul? Why
should
I? It was a dumb expectation. The whole process of measurement and evaluation was an exercise in futility unconsciously designed to keep us in the muck and mire of our own limited thinking. Maybe we were addicted to helplessness because, intellectually, it was the only thing we could prove.

Thank God I was lying on this table with needles quivering from my forehead, my shoulders, and my ears, believing that I could get in touch with lives I had lived before so that I could clear up some confusions I had in this lifetime. Yet if, fifteen years ago, anyone had told me I would be into this, I would have thought they weren’t playing with a full deck of cards.