Star Woman in Love (14 page)

So, breakfast was on the table. She called dad. No answer. She went upstairs to wake him up: he might have fallen asleep again, she thought. She collapsed to the floor when she reached the bedroom and realised that he was dead. He was only fifty-six. He had died suddenly one winter morning. Heart attack. He had let her down until the very end. How could she tell me and my brother now? Conor was in England and I was in America. Dad was dead and the last time I had seen him we argued so badly that mum almost called the gardaí. By the end of the day I had boarded a plane from New York. Shock, sadness and guilt accompanied me back to Ireland, to my father’s funeral. And these emotions haven’t left me since...”

You went silent. The fire crackled in the hearth. You took another long sip of your pint of Guinness and stared at me. The sadness of your loss felt as if were my own. A new concept, this was. I couldn’t quite tell where your feelings ended and mine began. Our life-stories had similar distressing milestones.

“Families...,” I said, “are built to cause us so much pain... but they can teach us a lot about ourselves...” 

My family history was one of tragedy too. I didn’t tell you then. My biological dad had disappeared when I was six. Mum found it hard to live without him. To make things worse, I reminded her of him. She took her life by the time I was seven. Depression ran in her blood-line. Although I was a child, I knew that was an accident waiting to happen, whose course I couldn’t change. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to cry much when she died. I needed more peaceful surroundings to grow into my True Nature. It was part of the Plan.

But I had invisible friends who protected me from despair. The idea of ‘family’ had a broader meaning to me. I didn’t understand ‘lack of love’ anyway. Mum and dad’s love would be replaced, upgraded. Love can’t be captured by a face or a name. It’s one’s birth-right. I had to let it flow through other channels. I was adopted by Lord Ralph and Lady Henrietta Hughes when I was seven and a half, having spent six months in foster care. My adoptive parents honoured a promise they had made to my mother, who had been a close friend of theirs. They had been acting as my custodians throughout mum’s illness anyway.

I couldn’t reveal any of that in the pub that night. I was captivated by your story, in awe of the pain you still held in your heart for the loss of your father. You somehow felt responsible for his death. You had disappointed him. Your guilt and sense of hopelessness made me want to join you that night. I was sure, more than ever before, that I could fill the gap in your life and soul. I was meant to give you my love, and make you feel complete again. The kiss of eternity was soon to be placed on your lips, and the Life Force would erupt through our joined limbs into our climax. I could already taste our togetherness: it filled the air. You were the son of despair and I was a strange daughter of joy. Like gazing at myself in the mirror, I could see my exact opposite in you. The moon was magnetic that night, that’s true. And so was I.

I stood up and let you help me put my coat on. “Let’s go home.”

We drove back into the night and to our house. Stars were out in their myriads and the night was inky and wondrous. I sat on the sofa in the sitting room and you tended to the flame in the fireplace. Then you came over to me and went down on your knee. You took my hands and put them to your forehead.

“Please, Cassandra...,” you said.

And I gave in.

We climbed the stairs to my bedroom. I sat on the bed and looked at you with solemn eyes. I still had to keep some boundaries in place.

“No kisses and no penetration, Oscar.” 

You nodded and looked stellar in your lust. The room was dimly lit.

“Do you want the lights off?,” you said.

We kept the lamp on the bedside table on. An army of genies, fairies, spirits and higher Beings positioned themselves around the bed. Dark forces were also there, lurking in a corner, stretching their shadowy fingers towards our hearts. We didn’t notice them. We had reached the edge of eternity: we were about to cross over to a point from which it was impossible to return. Our merge was imminent.

I felt as if I was suspended in mid-air, lying in bed wearing only my knickers. You were already naked. You looked vulnerable and hero-like at the same time. For the first of many times to come, I laid my eyes on your penis, charged as it was with the Life Force. I leaned forward and kissed its tip. I fell in love with your manhood immediately. You blushed as you touched me, caressing my breasts and hips.

Rapture emerged from under my skin, from recesses I’d not yet explored in the flesh. As you pressed your body onto mine, your hair fell on my face. We gazed at each other long and hard, without saying a word. Our breaths, inhaled and exhaled in synch, were the only sound. Your hands were marking the territory you had toiled to own. Now it was yours, forever. You could take your time, exploring my body with your fingertips and tongue. I surrendered to you completely. I lost myself in you that very night.

“Can I take your knickers off, now?”

“Yes...” 

You kissed your way down to my vagina, tickling the labia with your stubble, suckling on my clitoris, licking your soul into my orgasm. Shivers of pleasure ran through my nerves and to my brain. Fireworks exploded in my womb. Somewhere else in space and time a wild star was born to the makings of our love. I felt it in your heartbeat and I saw it in your eyes: a New Era had started.

______________

Dublin, 16-17 December 1993 – part three

The night when I first lay in your arms I didn’t get much sleep. I kept watch over you. Having merged, I was now weary of the fear which surrounded you like a cocoon. I kept my focus on the love we shared but the shadow still lingered in the background. I had to protect you. What from, I wasn’t sure. The room was full of spirits from the fourth dimension. Some came from the Light while others served the Darkness. We would never be alone from that point onward. The changes starting in my cells, and their polar opposites’ projection on you, would automatically attract the attention, and hence the presence, of other realms. As more Light was coming through me, more darkness would descend upon and inside you. I knew you needed much help throughout the process. If you truly were the one, and this really was the time, the shift would be relentless.

I was afraid those changes in me would come about too quickly for you to get your mind around them. As far as I could remember, I had always understood that being human was just a transitional phase. It was obvious in me, though not many did yet grasp the fact that humanity is in a transformative stage. The species is becoming a far more advanced life form. Humans are programmed to become more evolved creatures as a result of human and stellar cross-fertilising. The possibility of transmuting into Light-filled Beings underlines every human cell. The Masters’ Plan involves helping a portion of humanity to go through this evolutionary re-birth. Shamans, artists, psychologists and spiritual teachers are the midwives of this new race and will be the first to transform.

My role in the Plan was to kick-start the transmutation process. The cells in my body would learn to vibrate to the sound of the wholeness that permeates the entire galaxy. The matter that formed my body would become more refined. Eventually there would be more space between particles (as more particles dissolved into space), and more Light would be able to travel through my body. My mind would then direct the newly shaped vessel through pure thought guided solely by the heart, the seat of the soul, and not by the ego. By resonance, the rest of the species could start to tune into my cellular transmutation, because the sound of the cells vibrating in unison is both powerful and contagious. As more and more people would tune into my frequency, the same process I would have undergone would be initiated in their bodies, and those of their offspring.

The process in humans is similar to that of a caterpillar growing into a butterfly. At the biological level, its metamorphosis is driven by a new group of cells, the imaginal cells, which suddenly manifest in the creature. They start to appear in the system following a signal, or a frequency, emitted by the heart. What lepidopterists don’t know is that this frequency is the frequency of love. Caterpillars intuit that this love is the product of surrendering to the law of nature. The frequency of love underpins all of creation but many living species have become deaf to it. Not so the caterpillars, whose hearts are in tune with creation.

Initially the caterpillar’s immune system believes that these new cells are enemies, and it attacks them. But the cells continue to appear and multiply. In the end, they are simply too many for the immune system to suppress. So they begin to clump. More and more clumps connect with each other, exchanging information, until the new being cannot recognise itself as a caterpillar any longer. And so the butterfly is born.

This is the perfect metaphor for the transformative power of the frequency of Light. We are literally made of stars. Everything is. But people have forgotten that this is the case, and their hearts become hardened by life, and lose the ability to tune into the magic underlying the whole of creation. And their evolution, humanity’s evolution, is in peril.

As the ancient prophecy goes, the end of the world ‘as we know it’ is scheduled to unfold on 21 December 2012. That date marks the beginning of a new era for humanity, and the return of the Light of the Morning Star. A core group of individuals must have by then developed new, more Light-filled, love-filled cells in their bodies. New Beings will emerge out of the chrysalises of those three-dimensional bodies in which the cells are resonating to the sound of a steady, ponderous frequency. Their bodies will metamorphose into their complementary fourth dimensional selves and their cells will be closer in their pulsation to pure love. These new Beings will be a fusion of human and stellar. Their minds will be capable of controlling matter: mind over matter, indeed. These evolved humans may even choose to become immortal simply by willing it.

Lying next to you that night, I tried to forget that I was no ordinary human being.

“Should I embrace my destiny or should I press the ‘pause’ button?,” I kept thinking.

I was torn. I thought you loved my human side. I was afraid my stellar self would scare you, or repel you. After all, I had inhabited an almost completely human body for the first twenty-five years of this life on Earth. This body was the body that had attracted you, that you had made love to that night.

My heart had never been fully human. I was endowed with a Star-heart, a heart that could pump the Light through all of my bodily systems. I could only experience sadness or unhappiness for short periods of time. I was programmed to be loving, loved and happy.

Having a Star-heart also meant that I could only connect with the best in people, because the Light always shines the darkness away. The heart holds the archives of one’s parallel lives, and the Key to reconnect with one’s True Origin, which in my case was my life as an angel on planet Venus. My heart would ultimately never let go of the memory of my stellar origin. Even in times that could have been considered hard in human terms, I was still able to connect to the experience of wholeness and belonging, and I never felt alone. Rather, I felt at one with it all. I always sensed there was much more to me than my body. I knew it was just a vessel for the Life Force to express itself. The very presence of the Life Force, if left unhampered, would refine my bodily form and turn my material self into a more rarefied version of itself. Change was the only certainty.

Having said this, however, there were many times in my life when my denser, cellular memory told me a different story. Truly, what I remembered of my Star descent faltered frequently during the first two decades of my life. My work with the Godhead Society in my early twenties helped me to make sense of my divine inheritance. There were days when I would very clearly remember my role in the Plan. But on other days I wouldn’t be so sure. At some other times I even ignored the whole predicament. These swinging feelings were characteristic of my stance towards my part in the Plan. At the time we met in Glasgow, I was almost convinced that I would one day turn into a somewhat magical being, equipped with healing, transformative power over matter in all of its expressions and forms. Despite that, on the morning after our first night as lovers, the idea that I was pre-programmed to evolve into a higher kind of creature at some indeterminate point couldn’t have been any more unwelcome in my thoughts.

The day greeted us with a grazed kiss of pale sunshine on our naked bodies. My physical transformation had kicked-started for sure. I radiated love. Our Union was a symbol on the outside of deeper processes taking place inside of me. Mating between the human and the stellar had commenced. Total cellular metamorphosis had begun in my body that night. You were bound to feel the effects of it, if passively. Yet, to the world we simply looked like a man and a woman in love, happy to wake up with love in their eyes at the sight of their beloved’s body.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi there,” I replied.

We were lying with our heads on our pillows, face to face, gazing into each other’s eyes and into eternity. Bed hair and tired eyes, we were the perfect picture of a night of passion. How I loved you that morning. What joy filled my senses when I was with you, knowing that I was loved by you. We caressed each other’s faces softly, and then our bodies a little more passionately. Before I knew it, you had made me come with your skilful tongue again. Raptures of pleasure pervaded my genitals. I released your energy with my hands and lips, learning to love your smell, intoxicated by the bond of intimacy that had finally tied us into forever. You came, and then went to the bathroom. When you returned, you stopped at the end of the bed and stared at me as if spellbound, like only a man in love can look at his woman. The innocence in your eyes was disarming.