[Lady El, Aces, Alaya, and Dorothy the magically awkward dreamer support Wyl's return to awakening. Wyl narrates 'Part Five.'—A. A.]
1
Unknown Country
___He speaks
'Wyl . . .' A faraway feminine voice whispers, calling my name, rousing me from my sleepy, dreamy place. 'Wyl. Wyllen . . .' So far away, so soft and whispering it is, I'm not sure I hear anything at all.
..........................
Awakening, as if from a light sleep, my eyes gently opened to a peaceful atmosphere—and to beautiful colors of calm. Familiar colors they were, the whole spectrum warmly flowing past as I floated through vast, dark space. Peaceful, however (calm, nonetheless), it lasted only a moment, for it was all coming back to me now. Memory faculty was returning, that is, but my most recent memory seemed the farthest away.
At the end of the proverbial tunnel, and drawing nearer, there appeared before me an illustration of two scenarios. Two, nebulous probable-scenarios (plotting manifestation?) were emerging from out the one far-point: either of which I should soon find myself in, I think so, for I couldn't just drift through beautiful space forever! And intermingling they were, each with the other—misty pink, and misty blue—mixing it up, growing larger. Observing the peculiarities and familiarities of both probable-scenarios/realities, I realized I had a choice. But it hurt my head to look there.
In one scenario I could see myself—(through a bright-light opening in the trees)—down below, in a blue mist, sitting on Whitestone near the gates to The Wood. My heart thrilled! Expectancy! Adventure! Familiarity! But the other scenario kept bleeding through, and there I was, in a hospital bed, dead to the world, a limp, lifeless body beginning to stir. A little bit jittery, little-bit jumpy, on the threshold, on the verge . . . it was all coming back to me now. Yet, I didn't want to go back to that wretched room. It smelled like death. And felt worse.
It also posed a question. From out of the blue. One I had heard before:
'Is it possible—nay, PROBABLE—that one's thirst for Adventure disturbs his desire for Peace? That the work required to upgrade the Adventure—the knowledge needed, the understanding, the clues yet to be found—contradicts the very manifestation of Peace itself? You know yourself, young man, there IS another way. Let go. Let go now. It is time~~~
Letting go now, breezing through the moment, I was carried away to the hospital—not of my own will. (Not my choice!) Slammed into the body, expanding quickly into the body, I felt straightaway dizzy and in need of grounding: An unmistakable ringing raged rampant through my head.
Electronic whirrings, and fluorescent buzzing upfront; intercom-coarse, emotionless voices in the background, and an incredible heaviness to this place! A chair screeched the floor. My head suddenly ached; and my eyes screamed violently open to a cold, antiseptic, white room that was way, way too bright and smelled awful! And then I saw her: "Alaya?"
"Mmm . . . no, I'm Andrea. But everyone calls me Aces."
"Oh!" I rubbed my eyes and beheld my error. They could've easily been sisters. I was thinking so, sisters: dwelling on it, dwell-mode, dreamily, when a gang of white-coats burst through the door—a green man on their tail. The room was instant madness. A madhouse. Questions came flying at me, here, there, everywhere! There was quite a fuss as to who was in charge, till the circle of white-coats surrounding me broke open . . . and the green man, blood all over his scrubs (clearly the operating authority), elbowed his way through. "Everyone out! Out!" he said, louder than I needed to hear. "Andrea, you stay."
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...
