The Seventh Direction

PART ONE: The Flow. Episode 3

"—Lady El?"

 I turned round. Not at the fireplace. I hadn't heard her go. I stood, stretched, and gave my head a shake. "Good thing you're still here, Master J'." I patted the seat, and sat back down. The wind started to howl. A moonbeam shone on my notepad. The Voice was on its way, I think so. It was coming time to write The Big Bang.

"The Big Bang metaphor."

"You—you ARE here, Master J'!" (Go figure.)

"Not all of me."

"Have we time to talk?" I hoped so. I had questions.

"We have a little time, yes, and you can ask questions in a moment. But first, answer me this, love. Except for The Beginning, the story is written, yes?" I nodded, but wondered if the rest of him was anywhere where he could see me? "How long did it take you?" he asked.

"We, Master J'. 'We' wrote the story! You should know that!"

"Humor me."

"It took six months, near enough to the day. And done."

"Six months and done. I see. So, save the beginning, you thought the story finished?"

"Yeah. I mean, spell-check and all that, and untwisting a few sentences and brain-farts."

"Mmm . . . brain-farts. I see. Well, let me enlighten you, dear. Story-wise, what we have written is still in zip-form, so to speak; which means that there is much within the story still to be un-zipped. Think of it like this: black and white, and mono. The black and white needs color; the mono needs to be upgraded to stereo and then again to surround-sound. We will help; for if left to your own devices, it would take you nigh on thirty-years!" (Nigh on?) "You should also know—NEED to know, that our story is not first and foremost for the developing-soul already well on his way with his or her spiritual journey. It still is, of course—like Lady El said, it is for the 12 year-old within everyone. But it is more for those who have lost their way; more-so for those who as children were never exposed to the ways of Spirit . . . unaware, no Sunday School, the street kid. Get my drift? And as to The Voice? It already IS surround-sound, so just leave It as It is—in black and white.

"I'm shocked, Master J'. Thirty years?"

"Ah, love, but the story IS finished, complete in other realms. And we have much help with bringing it down to Earth . . . so, as already intimated, that thirty-year span of yours will be greatly shortened."

"How greatly?"

"That, my dear, you do not need to know. Clue, however? You HAVE noticed a number of synchronicities occurring in your life?"

"I have . . . they just keep on happening."

"Keep following your own little adventure, then. Listen for what is in the air. WE are all around you. And don't be afraid to speak the language of the lost (the street kid, for instance), the best you can, with your eyes on slowly upgrading that language. As you say: 'Baby step by baby step,' for what other way to grow?"

"Yeah, baby steps. Old Dorothy-slash-Alaya turned me on to that one."

 "Mmm, yes . . ." Master J' paused. He was likely fingering his beard. "She also turned you on to random reading. 'Touchstone' reading, you call it?"

"Yeah. She calls it 'random, random' reading. I like 'touchstone,' like when I have a day that's not going so well, when I just can't seem to get into the flow. Mm-hmm: I actually went and numbered the whole story. I put numbers on a bunch of little stones, inked in red—all 182 episodes—then put the stones in a little burlap bag of mine, so that if and when I'm having a day and can't get into the flow, I just reach in randomly, pull out one of my touchstones, go and read the episode, then—guess what?