A Fall to Grace Read online




  Praise for A FALL TO GRACE

  "A Fall to Grace is a teaching story about the healing power of love and the spiritual transformation available in the gift of intimate relationships."

  Angeles Arrien, PhD

  Author of The Four-Fold Way and Signs of Life

  "Sandra Ingerman's intriguing novel is a rich source of conversations with wise and ancient teachers who can inspire our search for meaning in life and from whom we can learn important truths about our spiritual paths."

  Tom Cowan

  Author of Fire in the Head: Shamanism & the Celtic Spirit and Shamanism As a Spiritual Practice for Daily Life

  "Sandra Ingerman's novel is delightful, poignant, and sure to inspire courage in us all."

  Jamie Sams

  Author of Medicine Cards and The 13 Original Clan Mothers

  "Sandra Ingerman has somehow found words for the wordless. Read, and remember."

  Eliot Cowan

  Author of Plant Spirit Medicine

  Also by Sandra Ingerman:

  Soul Retrieval: Mending the Fragmented Self

  Welcome Home: Following Your Soul's Journey Home

  Medicine for the Earth: How to Transform Personal and Environmental Toxins

  Shamanic Journeying: A Beginner’s Guide

  How to Heal Toxic Thoughts: Simple Tools for Personal Transformation

  How to Thrive in Changing Times: Simple Tools to Create True Health, Wealth, Peace, and Joy for Yourself and the Earth

  Awakening to the Spirit World: The Shamanic Path of Direct Revelation (with Hank Wesselman)

  A FALL TO GRACE

  SANDRA INGERMAN

  Smashwords Edition

  Published by Barbara Moulton

  Edited by Barbara Moulton and Ellen Kleiner

  Copyright © 1997 by Sandra Ingerman

  Cover illustration copyright © 1996 by Evelyn C. Rysdyk

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations embodied in literary articles or reviews.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  To Woods, my true love

  I am glad you are following your spiritual journey." The words echo through my consciousness as if bounding off the walls of a canyon, sounding until they fade into the unknown.

  I slowly take in my surroundings. I see that I am resting comfortably on a bed in a strange and beautiful hospital room. The wallpaper is vibrant with swatches of peach and swirls of spring-green. Delicate tones are flowing in from an unknown source, pulling me into a gentle peace. The light streaming into the room is also soft, and I notice pots filled with plants flowering into round, sweet-smelling blossoms.

  Where am I? I ask myself. Did I die? Am I in heaven?

  Glancing to my left, I see a tall, thin being moving with grace in my direction. As it draws near, I behold an androgynous face set off by a compassionate smile.

  The being approaches my bed and greets me with a singsong, "Welcome." Then, as if anticipating my next question, it begins to speak. "It was not your time to go, so you were transported to a reality compatible with your spiritual pursuits."

  I search my mind for recent memories... My life had become more challenging than usual. I was constantly exhausted by work, wondering where my career was headed, tired of the struggle to make my mark on the world, feeling lonely and isolated. I decided to go for a checkup, thinking that maybe I had one of those mysterious viruses that were attacking people, pulling the plug on their energy and will to live. I remember my absolute horror upon hearing the medical diagnosis: a tumor in the wall of my uterus. I never believed I could develop cancer—that was for others. I prided myself on my strong constitution and had worked hard to lead a life of spiritual harmony.

  But I had drifted from my spiritual path, plagued by the demands of survival and of being an adult in "the real world." What was the real world anyway? It could not possibly have been what mass consciousness was defining as "real." I worked in an office with harsh fluorescent lighting, a place that did not reflect the soul of the person I thought I was. Because it had no windows, I had to depend on the clock to tell me the time of day, how hungry I was, if I was tired. I longed to see the sun hanging in the blue sky. I yearned to feel connected to the natural world, to my body, to life itself.

  I guess my cancer was a wake-up call. Before I die, what regrets will I have? How will I have preferred to spend my time? Was I being given a second chance, or did I need to meet the grim reaper with my regrets?

  Surgery was scheduled immediately. I said my prayers to the Creator and was wheeled by gurney into the operating room, where I was given a mild sedative. Everything began to look surreal. What a sterile environment I was in! How does anyone get better here?

  Surrounding me were people dressed in spotless white gowns and masks. Who were these people? Did they care about my well-being? Did they even know who I was?

  A man speaking in a monotone said that he was going to put a mask on me, that it would contain anesthesia. He told me to count backward from one hundred.

  After that, all I remember is floating out of my body. What an interesting experience that was. Some part of my consciousness was watching from the ceiling, unconcerned about the dormant body below. I had read about this sort of out-of-body experience, and the books were right: the spirit is not emotionally attached to the body. The body is actually a container that carries the spirit from place to place. I wish I had taken better care of this container of mine. Oh, the experiences I missed because I did not let my body dance with my spirit!

  While my being floated above my body, I began paying attention to the white-clad strangers, who appeared hard at work. They looked tired, drained of their life forces. Are these the healers of our time? If so, I need to rethink the concept of healing.

  In the midst of ruminating on the scene below me, I became aware of a rumble. The room began to shake, and the doctors and nurses started staggering. I could smell panic. Screams filled the air. The lights swayed around me. Sterile instruments took flight, slamming into the walls. A serious earthquake was rattling the hospital where my body was being operated on to restore its state of "health."

  What, I wondered, do I do now? If I reenter the body below me, I will surely die. The anesthesia mask was still covering my mouth, but I did not know how long it would continue to work, or if anyone would be left uninjured enough to help me.

  While considering my options, I felt a magnetic pull on my soul. I began spiraling into space, passing through a deep, black void. This must be the place where everything began, I reasoned. Moving at lightning speed through the void, I started to experience the hum of the universe, the song of life. Then came flashes of color and faces, and feelings of well-being from my soul. Everything is perfect just as it is, I told myself.

  My sense of trust kept me in what I can only describe as a state of ecstasy. I was a part of life; I was reconnected to the source; and I didn't care where I was going. I was where I needed to be. Beyond this point I remember nothing.

  I gaze up into the compassionate, loving face of my attendant, who is tenderly singing, "This is the beginning of a new journey." Then I fall back into a deep sleep and move into a dream. I am floating above my body, feeling safe and cared for. Reentering the
darkness of the void, I notice a figure in the distance. Drawn to it, I move in that direction and discover against the blackness around me a woman draped in midnight blue. She has a compassion different from that of my attendant. Her energy exudes not only love and caring but a demanding quality. How do I know this? I just do—I seem to be tapping into a "knowing" within me, a part of myself that has been elusive. The few times I've had knowings in my life I was unable to analyze them with my rational mind.

  The woman approaches me, saying, "You must trust yourself."

  Trust myself? What a foreign concept, I say silently. Aloud I ask her, "What do you mean?"

  "You were wondering why your knowings, as you call them, have been so infrequent and elusive, weren't you?"

  I am shocked that this robed figure is reading my mind. "Who are you?" I ask.

  "I am a teacher from another world whom you have called upon for help in the next stage of your journey. More about me will be revealed as your understanding grows. Now back to you.

  "You need to learn to trust yourself. These knowings deep within you arise from the part of yourself called your spirit. The spirit part of you is all-knowing and immortal. It is the aspect of you that goes beyond ego, personality, and culture. Your spirit is truth -- who you really are. All the rest is simply clothing you wear that covers up your true self.

  "When you die, your spirit lives on. Whenever catastrophe strikes, only the ego is affected by it. The ego, prone to views of separation, believes that something can be lost. And yes, from a personality standpoint, from a feeling standpoint, loss is possible. But you must learn to see that you can never be lost.

  "Hence it is important to trust yourself. The more you trust yourself, the more knowings you will have—and the more your personality will unravel to reveal the true you and the beauty you truly are."

  I let these words sink in, aware that what I am hearing is indisputable. Do I dare ask the figure to go on, I wonder, or do I remain asleep? The answer to this question emerges the moment I realize that a door has opened, never to close again. Although open only a crack, it is enough to propel me into the unknown.

  Consumed with fear, I say to the figure, "As I listen to you, I know what you say is true. But I am afraid. Can you help me?"

  "The fear that runs you is the fear of loss. And yet there is nothing to lose, for you will always have your self. You must see life as an adventure. Then, once you learn that there is truly nothing to lose, you will surrender to the adventure. It is within that place of surrender that your path can be shown to you. It is out of that place of surrender that your true beauty and creativity can burst forth. No longer will the ego and personality have power over you.

  "The person you show to the world is the one you were conditioned to be by your parents, peers, and society. This is not who you really are. Once you've surrendered to the adventure, the seed that came into this world as you will be able to blossom into the beautiful flower it was intended to be."

  What this extraordinary woman is saying makes sense, I tell myself. I think back on expanded states of consciousness I experienced in childhood. I had a deep love for nature and envisioned a life extending beyond what the ordinary mind could see. But the "fantasy" world I delighted in soon gave way to a perception of the "real" world. And as it did, my wonderment started to fade. The colors I saw in my mind lost their vibrancy. A part of me died to the other realms until all that was left was what I could literally see around me. I learned to take my place in a world that from a child's point of view had no meaning. And in the process I left beauty behind.

  I know I must find a way back to the magical places I visited as a child. Yet it is no longer appropriate for me to dwell in them full-time. How do I bring those memories into my ordinary state of being?

  I ask my teacher to help me with this dilemma.

  She responds, "You are simply following the path of your soul. Yes, you have lost your way, but this, too, is part of the learning. You would not be here had you not gathered a certain amount of life experience to draw upon.

  "Now your soul has led you to me. Soon you will meet a succession of powerful and wise beings who will instruct you in retrieving what you call the magic in your life. Do not be deceived by the appearance of any of them; each will have a teaching for you. Learning how to receive love and truth from realms beyond the perceptions of the ordinary mind is part of the adventure."

  I am filled with questions. I am also filled with great sadness. I feel as if my heart is breaking, I tell my teacher.

  She asks me to stay with the feeling and follow it to its source.

  I sit down. The darkness around me reflects the darkness within me. Yet just as the darkness around me is exceedingly vital, the darkness of my sadness fills me with life.

  I breathe into the pain in my heart. The effort required to inhale seems immense. The effort required to live feels immense. I become lost in this feeling. While giving myself to the energy moving through my body, I pick up on another knowing: I need to detach from the feeling to see what it holds.

  As I do this, I discover that the love and care I am experiencing is new to me. Until now, my heart has not been touched by another; my essence has not been seen by another. This lack of love has caused me great sadness. I vow never to go back to a life that leaves me so cold and untouched inside.

  My teacher puts her hand on mine. She runs her other hand through my long dark hair. How does she know I am comforted in this way? I ask myself.

  "You are beginning a new adventure," she goes on. "Take heart that the way will be shown to you. Trust in the universe. Trust in your capacity to learn not only how to survive but how to live fully. Set this as your intention when you begin your journey."

  "Will I see you again?" I ask.

  "Oh yes," she replies. "You can't get rid of me easily.

  Even when you do not see me I will be there. And we will talk from time to time."

  "Where am I? Have I gone to a different planet? Am I dreaming all this?"

  "What seems to you a simple question is actually quite complex," she says. "When we dream, where are we really? When we fantasize, where are we? When we go to work, where are we?

  "The answer, which will become clear later, is that 'in' and 'out' are the same. For now, don't try to figure out where you are; just give yourself over to the experience.

  "You will find many ways to distract yourself from fully experiencing the upcoming journey. Avoid these temptations and stay in your center. Don't be pulled away from your center. It is time for me to leave you to your journey."

  I am moving through space again. I want to follow my teacher's advice to give in to my experience, but too many questions are plaguing me. Where am I? What was happening to my body in the hospital room? Will I ever return, and if so, when?

  My mind continues to chatter away. From its far reaches I hear, "You will find many ways to distract yourself from being fully in your experience. Remember not to get pulled from your center."

  My mind, I decide, has always been a distraction to me.

  "Yes it has!" a voice booms.

  The world around me has changed, for I am now floating on a huge white cloud. I cannot see where the voice is coming from. What I can see is a deep blue sky brimming with clouds. I recall sitting in my backyard as a child and sending a part of me up to drift with the clouds. How calming it was to be with them. How calm I am feeling now.

  The next thing I know, I am seated in a classroom, surrounded by wooden desks like those I used in grade school. A man with his back to me is writing something I cannot understand on the blackboard. He is wearing a maroon cloak. As he turns around, I see that his forehead is deeply furrowed. With his long, thinning, pure white hair and white beard, he looks like the archetypal wise man. I wonder what he has to share with me.

  "Well, class," he announces, "let's begin."

  I look around the room and see that I am the only one here. Yet he speaks in a voice that would wake up hundre
ds of students in a large lecture hall.

  Startling me, he shouts, "Expand yourself!"

  In that insane moment the floor literally drops out from under me. I'm falling, out of control, through a tunnel, with no time to wonder where I am going and whether or not I'll survive. I'm hitting roots and leaves. My skin is breathing the deep, rich, dark earth in my midst. All the while a high-pitched wind whistles through the tunnel, screaming, "Let go."

  Eventually I tumble out into a world unlike the one I just visited. There everything and everyone seemed to float in midair; now I am in an amazing forest.

  This is a place I might have visited in my ordinary life, but it is somewhat different. How is it different? I ask myself. Although it is green, like the forests I remember, everything here is more vibrant and alive. I never saw auras, and in fact joked about people who did, but these trees have auras. The energy around them shines so brightly it appears tangible. If I were to touch this energy, it would feel like a crystal.

  I get up to brush the dirt off my clothes. My face is covered with fine granules of earth, as are my hands. I look around for something to clean myself with. The ferns are huge. The trees remind me of the tall ponderosa pines I am fond of. Life is definitely present in this place—yet too alive for me to touch.

  So I start brushing myself off with my hands. While whisking away the particles of soil, I note that I am somewhat in shock. The adventure is becoming a bit much for me. I want it to slow down, but I am too outside of time to mentally curb its progress.

  Still partially covered with dirt, I curl up on the cool, moist earth and rest my head on a mound of pine needles. What, I wonder, did that old man mean by "expand yourself"? This is the last thought that comes to me as I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.