It’s All in the Numbers

Sara fell asleep with joy written all over her face. She felt in her bones, and for the first time in, well, maybe years, she awakened with budding enthusiasm for a new day.

“Finally!” She threw off the covers, stood naked in her bedroom window, exclaiming it to the world. “I woke up!” Something really subtle had happened the day before, yet the resulting shift in her deepest sense of herself was dramatic.

Five years before, her mentor Serge had mentioned a key to her, something she needed to find before she could unlock the power of her destiny.

“There’s a hidden key someplace; your own key, hidden very well before you were born. You not only hid it well, you encoded its location in something very simple. So simple, you’ll laugh aloud when you figure it out because it was always right in front of your face.” He laughed in amusement and never called again.

It had been almost 5 years since she’d spoken to him.

About a month ago Sara had a faint glimmer of memory—a baby star of truth in her mind that led her down what she thought was an ego path. In fact, as she sat her computer each day looking up meanings and symbology for the Triple Goddess, she was faintly ashamed at how she might have come to this conclusion so she stopped looking. It took another few weeks to get back to the task because she honestly figured it was all born from insecurity and self-loathing, a need for some outer reflection that she was okay.

“It was true,” she thought to herself. “I was right, it was born out of neediness and feeling unsupported. “I was searching for a reason to like myself, yet in the long run it didn’t matter why. All that matters is finding the links that lead me to my own personal key!” She was light and joyous, flitting around like a hummingbird.

The key was hidden in her birthdate numerology: 3-3-3. There were only 18, maybe 20 possibilities for three three’s. People born with that combination of numbers still would have to have been born after 1900. Before that, they would already be dead.

It was the sign of the Ascended Masters.

Copyright 2012 The Energetic Connection

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Agreements

It was time.

Sara was both elated and fully spent after months of moving energy, shifting out of the old morphogenic field, the one she’d occupied with all her old friends.  She broke the agreements they’d made, just like they’d all said they would, long ago, in another world.

And because of that preparation, she could access the incredible golden light of the angelic realms more frequently now, whereas in the past, she’d only known, or maybe she’d always just pretended they were there.

Today she was both celebrating and testing the waters by taking a great chance going to lunch with someone still tied to that past. She’d be brushing up against the edge of that old territory with a friend who wasn’t really part of the destiny she’d collided with back in the winter months, yet it was someone who’d been pulled into the surging currents along the periphery of that energy field a few years back. Hovering in the outer rings all this time, the woman had only recently begun to navigate the maelstrom of its center.

Tables now fully turned, it was a strange set of circumstances at best. Sara was the outcast and this woman was in her place, with her old friends, taking up the space in her old field of influence. It was like meeting the new girlfriend of an ex-husband.

And even though Sara wanted nothing to do with that old group, she leaped out of the car, practically running to the restaurant door, enthusiastic about her lunch with Teresa. It had been three months since their last meeting, back when everything was still ripe and painfully acute.

Smiling, she scanned the restaurant, her energy field searching for that friendly signal or a vibration she remembered. “Where is she?” Nothing felt familiar, none of the old bright-eyed energy wafted through the air to meet her today. “Oh, there she is,” Sara’s hand went up immediately to wave hello when saw the face.

There, in the back corner was Teresa, standing up slowly, avoiding eye contact as she shuffled forward in flip-flops and a baggy old sun dress. As she approached, Sara noticed there was no make-up, not even a hint of mascara. Teresa’s posture was saggy and her sun-tanned skin looked wrinkled well beyond her 40 years.

She could feel the others’ presence hiding within Teresa. They were in her words and the tone of her voice, her mannerisms and the masculine way she held herself, and mostly in her lack of receptivity. There was a coldness in her eyes, maybe a deadness; at the very least her eyes were vacant and hard.

Later that same day, Sara glided into the underworld where she met her guides. Wordlessly, the instruction came through loud and clear.

“Go to the place where it all began, “ they said it in unison. “Speak from your soul to theirs. Break the agreements once again and remind them of their oaths to the Creators. You are to be alone now, learning to embrace your essence and your power within. They are three, because you are three and you always have been three.” It was like a song or a chant as the tones of their voices harmonized the information without words.  Three guides, three old friends, three of Sara. “The missing piece can be found in your commitment to the triple Goddess.

“She is gestating inside you, yet to be born.”

 

Copyright 2012 The Energetic Connection

Falling

Both the sea and sky roiled in anger as Sara watched through the window from her seat above the cliff.

She was a passenger in her own car and the symbolism really pissed her off.

“What’s wrong with me? Why do I continue to choose men who abuse me? Why can’t I just stand up, tell the truth and walk away?” She knew the answer, yet wasn’t ready to face it.

This lookout was the place they’d made love and as well, the place where war had broken out repetitively.

Sometime in the middle of their relationship, one of his ex-girlfriends came to Sara with a story about how Daniel had taken her on a romantic drive into the country one day. Unexpectedly he’d begun yelling and flailing at her, the car swerving towards a death crash with every swing of his arm. His profanities and accusations had sliced her to the bone before he’d finally spun the car around in a gravel turnout on some old unmarked highway and told her to get out. When she wouldn’t, he’d reached over, opened the door and pushed her onto the ground, speeding away.

Today, on the edge of the western sea, Sara sat motionless in the car as she always did during her visions, until she was rousted by a hot foreign energy breathing into her face.

“I just don’t get these visions of yours and honestly I don’t believe you even have them!” He turned toward her, his large frame hovering, his arms practically engulfing her after slapping both the dashboard and the head rest. She had no place to go, she couldn’t even turn fast enough to open the door and run.

And the only real safety she would ever have from Daniel and all the other men who came before him, was deep self-inquiry and fearless reflection about her past choices. The only real safety was to make the only choice she knew she needed to make.

Little did her conscious mind know that night, she would be awakened abruptly in the early morning hours by a swift kick to her low back. Little had she ever envisioned as a possibility, she would awaken a second time that morning, in the hospital, with the man who’d beaten her sitting by her side, holding her hand, crying into the stiff white hospital sheets.

Copyrighted by the Energetic Connection 2012

Monsters in the Night

Sara spent a lot of time dreaming.

Daily yoga sessions helped her stay in this world.

Only then would she allow herself to relax her mind and go into the visions again. Only at the end, in Savasana. Today it was a remembering of something past, something about her brother.

Fully awake and aware, she drifted easily into another dimension, to the bathroom in the house where she and her little brother lived when they were in grammar school.

In the early hours before dawn, it was usually the screams that framed the scene and its timing, letting her know where and when. Besides, her brother had finally stopped screaming when they moved out of that house, leading Sara to believe it was over, forever. And even as an adult exploring the horrors of the past, this was one of the most frightening experiences Sara had ever remembered.

Bursting through the bathroom doorway, she saw an awfully familiar sight. That beautiful 3-year-old towhead turned around so fast, she could hear his spine bones crunching. “Ouggghh.” Sara wanted to throw up.

What came out his mouth as his head spun was unintelligible, though the wave of ice-cold air blasting out of his mouth was an obvious command. The intentions of whatever had consumed her brother was most certainly malevolent.

Watching that contorted little face and the agony in his eyes, she heard the fear in his moans deep underneath that frigid message. Staring still, frozen in space, she knew he was in there somewhere, so she waited, listening to the cries of a little boy held captive by a beast in his own body.

Copyrighted by the Energetic Connection 2012

Memoirs of a 12-year-old

Sara lay sleeping in her grandparents guest bed, dreaming of all the mod, wide-striped clothing and colorful little plastic things she wanted at the K-Mart down on the corner. Wandering through that store alone, by herself, was freedom.

Soon her dreams were disturbed by a deep cringing in her bones and an ache in her groin, like she wanted to jump out of her skin and run, a feeling she’d noticed first on that day, in that bed.

Imprisoned in a body consumed with bone cringes and groin aches that came and went over the years in different situations, she found many ways to avoid her Mother. Sometimes the pain arose when the woman wanted to kiss her hello or goodbye, other times while hugging closely, and strangely, always while her Mother ate. Sara couldn’t bear to be in her presence as she watched the chomping and talking, all with her mouth open, food falling from that horrible trench in her face.

She became an unwilling expert in dimensional shifts.

Sara talked about these discombobulated feelings with therapists, spiritual teachers, psychic readers and friends during 20-plus years of self-exploration. Sometimes even a few pictures would appear as her words carved out the emotional scene, winding-up her body so tensely, her head would shake.

Out of all those people, and all those years, no one really understood what she was trying to say until her brother mentioned something off-hand one day. Nearly 40 years after that first benchmark before middle school, she’d found someone who used the very same words, about the very same circumstances, to describe how he felt.

It was a body memory, just like hers. And right there, from inside the boy who had terrorized her as a witness to his own horrific experiences, was the first part of her long-awaited answer, someone who finally and forever, understood.

Copyrighted by the Energetic Connection 2012

Reflections

Sara hunched lonely, nestling herself into a rock throne on the outcropping. She’d shined that seat many times over the years when self-reflection was a driving necessity, always looking Westward for her answers.

Today though, it was all about rumination and a conversation she’d had with one of the more prominent and secretly judgmental townspeople. The woman was typically abusive; kindly and different out in the world than she was in her home.

The words she spoke to Sara days ago wouldn’t go away; her passive-aggressive energy was poisonous and omnipresent, and the pressure of the critique continued to pulse against the inside of Sara’s forehead, driving her to rant crazily.

It would’ve been less a trigger for her if the woman’s reaction hadn’t included a vicious statement about Sara’s supposed lack of heart. She knew it was projection, though its stinger went deep into an old unresolved wound. It would have been less a trigger if the woman hadn’t been her Mother.

Sara began to sob, deep sadness coursing through her body. Her tears were for everyone, especially her Mother, dropping, pooling and softening the dry-baked ground to one day receive the seeds.

Copyrighted by the Energetic Connection 2012