["D/A" narrates —A.A.]
___"GET IT CLEAR!"
I came out of the can.
"Guess what, Dorothy? It worked," Aces, sitting in her chair, said. "The fear, the anxiety, the doubt—all of it gone. Embracing that whole ball of wax, bringing it into me and my feeling world, 'Come on in, guys, we're not a divided house in here!' has made me whole again."
"You're not gonna to start dancin' round and shadowboxing, are you?"
"No," she said. "Shadow's gone too. Might moonwalk, though." (She knows about that?)
"Aces, love, can you think of a simple (almost imperceptible) way we divide ourselves?" Odd that the Masters had never pointed me in this direction. Maybe I missed something? Maybe it's not that simple? (It better be . . . we haven't much time left here TO "Get It Clear!") Maybe there's a bit more to it that still needs clearing. If so, then I'll absolutely need to clear it—if not, it's old Norm (don't want Norm. Want Wyl), and old Norm can't get me through the portal.
"I can," Aces claimed. She was up and dancing around (Fibber McGee), doing her punchy thing. "Simple as this," she said and stopped, sat her butt down on the window sill and gave me her example. "Picture this, Dorothy. Here we are at a drive-thru restaurant. I'm an aspiring health nut, you're just along for the ride. And I LOVES hamburgers," she was impersonating somebody. "But I LIKES salad, too. What to do? What to do?"
"What would I do?" She nodded her head up and down. "Easy-peasy," I said. "Own it, embrace it, keep the energy that I have long-invested into my LOVE of greasy, hormone-filled, bone-shrapneled, tooth-chipping, mind-altering cheeseburgers (gotta have cheese!)—but I'd go ahead and have the salad. And now that I HAVE kept my energy and not put it away, the energy will follow my lead and eventually change—right, dear? It doesn't have to keep knocking at my door. Own it! Now you—"
"Denial," she said. "NOT owning our hamburger cravings, NOT owning or embracing our conflicting desires (—our shit. [Dorothy! You get back here! Right now!])—not owning it, denial, divides us. Umm . . ."
"Yes, dear?"
"Well, like we both just said. Own it. Simple as that. Sure, I have doubts as to where I'm headed. It's okay to have them! They belong to me! But more important, I need the energy I gave to my put away past—to those doubts, fears, hamburger cravings, put away stuff (—shit). Put away a long time ago, or maybe just yesterday. I need all my energy; and maybe the next time I have a hard decision to make and want to choose one thing over the other (—wrong!), I best not throw the other thing away, even if it is a greasy, hormone-filled, bone-shrapneled, tooth-chipping, mind-altering hamburger (—with cheese!), even if it HAS only a smidgen of my energy in it." (Jesus, Dorothy. Cut it out. Aces might hear you.)
"Okay, I'm done," Aces said, "unless of course we want to see how one innocent, nasty little habit has snowballed and impacted, if not created, the lower-Astral plane."
"Created, I think."
"On second thought," she said, way too squeamishly for her, bold as she is, "I'm not so sure I want to talk about the lower-Astral plane. It's pretty nasty, and pretty big, isn't it? And created, huh?"
"The Creator created the space, empty," I said. "Man filled it up with his stuff. Some think it's Hell. Some go there to live—scarcely live, it seems they've gotten lost there."
YOU ARE READING
The Seventh Direction
AdventureA spiritual, mostly fictional adventure, which takes place in both the 3rd and 4th dimension . . . and perhaps occasionally in the 5th. Under the umbrella of Mother Earth---School of Learning, Freewill Zone---the story, rather than looking at us as...
