Star Woman in Love (36 page)

The cairn reached a metre in height. We stood around it as the sunset painted the sky blood-red. A numinous peace descended upon the land. We sat until the night hugged us in its mellow embrace. Conor lit a fire. The musicians among us produced their instruments and wove melodies to our hearts’ fancy. You danced the night away. Freedom was with you again, albeit temporarily, and you felt alive. There was a sense of accomplishment in the air. Tomorrow we would find out the reason for it: effect and cause are inverted when you are travelling back from the future.

Our visit from the future, and the Light we had brought along, had preserved the lives of human beings. Humankind could have been wiped off the Earth in a massive war erupting across the planet in the months following a terrorist attack on New York’s Twin Towers on the following day, 11 September 2001. But no war could take place while our cairn kept shining its heavenly Light over those dark days ahead.

“Time for bed, Matthew.”

We walked away from the site. I turned to watch the cairn and I saw you in the distance, squatted down by the fire with a bottle of vodka in your hand. Our group of adepts had just managed to save the world. Despite the fact, however, that some among us were still finding it hard to save themselves. I sighed and walked away.

“Cassandra, can I have a word?”

Cobar appeared out of nowhere on the small path to the place where we had parked our car.

“Of course.”

“Watch your dreams tonight, Star Woman. That’s all I have to say. Have a good night’s sleep, both of you.”

“Thank you, Cobar. I will. Goodnight.”

* * * *

Leap, the night between 10 and 11 September 2001

Matt and I arrived at the hotel shortly after midnight. We were exhausted after a week of rituals and prayers. At last peace had descended on the land and in our minds. Bedtime was calling out loud.

“What did Cobar mean, Cassie?”

I wasn’t really sure so I didn’t answer. I watched Matt go to the balcony and light a cigarette. The night was balmy and perfect. My lustful eyes skimmed his wiry body, clad in ripped jeans, white t-shirt and a leather jacket. He was so handsome in his boyish ways. I couldn’t focus on his words: I just wanted to be naked with him in bed lying next to me, caressing my body back to Shambhala and away from your fears.

He laughed. “Cax, did you hear what I just said?”

“Oops! No, not really, I’m falling asleep on my feet.”

I removed my clothes, piled them on a chair and proceeded to walk towards him. I took a couple of puffs from his cigarette and then we kissed. We were the picture of a great erotic connection: the rock star and his wild naked muse. My body had transformed then into its intended form. It harboured very sharp senses. It was highly charged and finely tuned, like a violin. Matthew and I started dancing to a silent, imaginary song. We were happy and wanted to melt into each other. I was at home in his arms. But a sudden sharp sensation of coldness sneaked its way inside my heart and took my attention away from my playful, loving ways. I looked past Matt’s shoulder onto the garden below us. And there you were, staring at us as if transfixed by the vision of our joy. You looked pained and concerned. I waved at you from behind my man who was sheltering my body from your sight. Your anguish was palpable.

“He still loves you... Don’t let him see you like this...”

“I know, Matthew. Let’s go in, enough of the past.”

He shed his clothes and love was made. We fell asleep within an hour. Before dozing off, it crossed my mind that I was going to dream of something relevant, as Cobar had pointed out. But my last thought before falling asleep was how beautiful my life was, whether you were in it or not.

* * * *

I walked down the tarmac street of a metropolis made of cement. The buildings were very tall and towered high up in the sky. Their dark shadows were cast everywhere. A sense of peace pervaded the city. Another woman walked by my side. I turned around to see it was my mother, looking happy like she was in my childhood memories. She wore a beautiful pearl choker around her neck. We walked hand in hand. I was a little girl but my mind functioned like an adult’s.

A loud noise made us look up. A skyscraper had been hit by a ball of fire. Debris was falling everywhere. Panic erupted. Screaming people ran around like lunatics. It was the end of the world and we were all going to die. I lay on the rubble with my mum’s body cuddled up next to me. We were petrified. I held onto my golden medal with the engraving of a cherub, the one I was given as a child for my baptism. A massive white light spread everywhere. That was the end.

Silence fell upon the rubble. I opened my eyes and saw the angel medal in my hand. I was alive. Everybody was alive. We had overcome the end of the world. It had been a miracle.

I woke up in a cold sweat with the images still vivid in my mind. It was relatively early, 10 am in the morning, but we had to be at Dublin airport by 2 pm to catch a flight to New York in the afternoon. Matt’s band was going to tour the US the following week. He had arranged to hook up with them in Manhattan, with me in tow as usual. We grabbed a quick breakfast and jumped into the car.

“Cobar was right, Matthew. I had a powerful dream last night. I dreamt of the end of the world. I think I was in New York and the third world war had started. I saw a ball of fire hitting a skyscraper. Then there was a massive nuclear explosion. But we survived.”

“Really?”

His hands were on the steering wheel and his eyes were on the road. His mind was somewhere else. I knew that he had reached his absorption limit when it came to being fed esoteric stuff, especially after the last week of rituals, meditation, sacred dances and prayer. Now all he wanted to do was get on the plane and be Matt Norman the rock star again. Not that he wasn’t interested in our spiritual pursuits. But after such an intensive week as an alchemist, he simply missed his more grounded, artistic side.

“I know you’re not bothered, you don’t need to feign concern.”

He smiled and touched my leg. Then he took my hand and brought it to his lips to kiss it. My whisper turned to soft laughter.

“Charmer...”, I said.

Deep down, however, I was sure that the dream meant something huge and terribly important. I knew I had seen the end of the world and, by my witnessing it, the course of history had been changed. For the better. My awareness of it had contributed some healing.

We reached Dublin airport around 1.45 pm. Thirty minutes later we were standing among a dumbfounded crowed of stranded passengers, glued to a TV screen in the departure lounge. We would not be going anywhere that day. All flights were cancelled. The images from the World Trade Center had the entire planet paralysed by fear.

“Oh my God. That’s my dream...”

Matt held my hand and I started to cry. What I didn’t realise then was the task we had fulfilled in preventing a world conflict which could have wiped out our entire race. Our gathering at Leap, and the Light we had channelled and anchored, would counterbalance the fear that would envelope the planet from that day on, and for months to come. The hearts of human beings were going to be shocked open by the events which were unfolding in New York and Washington. The entire species would spend days in terror of the end of the world.

The outdated vision of a superior power based on trade and commerce had been shaken at its foundation. The old dream of the Earth was dying out. Duality, represented by the Twin Towers, was being turned to rubble. Oneness was the new paradigm, and the Earth was ready for a new dream. The shock of the attacks would wake people up to their feelings, which were experienced initially as dread and panic.

The New Paradigm required people to live from their hearts. In order for that to happen, they needed to process life through their hearts and not through their heads. That dramatic event contributed to that. Now the majority of humans listened to their emotions. They were awake. The Light-Seeds in their hearts could shine in the darkness, and grow. This was going to bring about a domino dance of transformation on a planetary level. Our rituals of the previous week had served as a kind of ‘heart surgery’ for humankind. We had brought in symbols and spirit guides from other dimensions to ensure that the human race would go through such pain, such loss and such horror without ending up killing itself off the face of the Earth. We had succeeded. But just about.

______________

Dublin, May 2002

The message enclosed in the kiss I gave you in Sandycove was one of hope. The kiss had announced a re-match: our relationship was going to be revisited. With you, the city would gestate our love story, regurgitating our vision for the second time, and leaving signs on your pathway. We were to meet again one day. But when? You would control the time of our next encounter in accordance with your remembrance of your wholeness. I couldn’t help you in your vision quest. My heart would stay open to travel back to the Crossroad, to our Souls’ Kiss, when it would finally be prompted. Our magic was powerful, or at least that’s what I believed. It wouldn’t take you long. But I was wrong. You had never been one for time keeping and I had never been good at biding time. Despite your renewed promise in Shambhala, the days turned into months and the distance between us widened.

I let go of the hope of rekindling our love again the instant my path crossed Magne Bille’s. It was all a part of the Plan. One day in May while I was walking in Dublin’s financial district, I noticed a tall, remarkably attractive young man in a navy suit and a pink tie. The picture of Nordic beauty, this god of perfection was smiling at me.

“He’s probably recognised me”, I thought. Being a world-renowned philosopher and all-round magic woman had its benefits. People noticed me.

I went into a shop to get a yogurt. The blond man followed me in and then left without making a purchase. I became certain that he was pursuing me. We exchanged smiles. If I walked calmly, his pace would slow down. When I started to speed up, he followed suit. This was flirtation of the cheekiest kind. Finally I stopped outside the entrance of Harker’s asset management company. My suitor’s chase also came to a halt, and he stepped closer to face me.

“Excuse me? Can I ask you... what time is it?”

The glint in his eyes had me weak at the knees.

“That’s a bit of a tricky question you’re posing to someone who believes the perils of time should be avoided,” I said.

He started to laugh. I loved the sound of his name when he disclosed it. He told me that he had wanted to get to know me in person since seeing me at the Oslo Conference four years previously. He was prepared to do anything in order for that to happen. He had studied at the Oslo Transformation Centre and was now proficient in a number of transmutation techniques. He had applied for a job that would take him to Dublin on a regular basis, hoping to bump into me. As this happened to be his first visit to the Irish capital, luck, it would seem, was on his side.

“I’m in town for a couple of days. I’d like to meet you for a coffee when you are free, Miss Morgante. I’ll be coming to town every fortnight. I’ve read all of your books and I am a great fan. But the reason I’ve followed you today is that you are a very good-looking woman and, well, I am very, very attracted to you.”

Candid and bold as he was, how could I not fall for him there and then? We made love for the first time on the very afternoon we met. I was thirty-four and he was ten years younger. He kissed me hard, expressing all the strength of his athletic body in every gesture of passion he directed towards me. His kisses were like penetration, and his penetration was deep and masculine. Loved up as I was, and filled by the youthful essence of his masculinity, I let you slip out of my mind, where you stayed for the following six years. The Plan required that I stopped thinking of you during my visits on Earth. The Masters told me that this would speed up your Enlightenment. Dutifully, I complied.

My ascension into my Light-Body was complete. Indeed, I didn’t need to spend much time in Dublin anymore. It wasn’t required by the Plan. People could read my books and listen to my podcasts. I was mostly out-of-time, either in Shambhala or on retreats with Magne in beauty-filled power-spots across the planet. I had done all that I could to keep you on my side. But I capitulated to the lack of you in the end. My heart, however, never stopped feeling sorry for my defeat.

* * * *

Paris, March 2007

On the seventeenth floor at Three-D’s headquarters, two familiar characters walked out of a lift. Charlotte and Marina were on their way to meet Alexander Akropolis, the company’s Vice President. Given the confidentiality of their mission, they reported directly to him or Harker. Marina and Charlotte were spies. They had been working for the pharmaceutical giant for the last thirteen years. At the start, they had been hired to provide an account of every single move Cassandra and Oscar made, and to contribute any detail they could gather about their lives. In due time, they had became fully merged into Oscar’s life. They were pivotal to his separation from Cassandra and to the ensuing delay in her transformational process. The Star Woman, however, was still far too powerful, even on her own. There was further work for the two spies however: their rival had to be stopped, one way or another.

We followed the scene from Shambhala. Cassandra was with us in the Great White Lodge. We called her Meta, her given name when she was here at Home. It was interesting to see what the Dark Side would throw up. Cassandra was now fully developed and immortal. She could play along with any role the Dark Forces, fed by Oscar’s fears, wanted her to enact. We knew that she wasn’t afraid of facing anything in store for her. The High Council of Shambhala had deliberated that she should still return to the three-dimensional Earth when required. Unbeknown to her, she would descend into matter whenever Oscar would think about her. The amount of time she would spend on each visit would be determined by her ability to remember her True Origin and come back Home. This could help Oscar’s progress, and that was all that mattered to us, although that would mean exposing him to his concerns and shame. The time had come to speed up the pace and prepare his heart for waking up, just as human consciousness had received a cold awakening on the 11
th
of September, nine years previously. Of course, in relation to the Plan, Oscar was now lagging well and truly behind. We were following the conversation in the Paris office on an interdimensional screen.