A Fall to Grace Read online

"All people need a mission—for without one, their attention is drawn to the meaninglessness of their existence, perpetuating the conquering mentality. They begin to yearn for power over another to help them feel powerful and meaningful. Thus far, this dynamic has not worked for anyone.

  "You live in a very dark time. Much needs to be accomplished. You will find that every individual on your earth has a particular life path as well as a unique talent. The bliss that is sought cannot be purchased; it must be earned by following one's life path. Those who are asleep will need to wake up from the many illusions enveloping them and will need to get in touch with their strengths. It is time for each person to stand up and take his or her rightful place on earth. It is time for each person to share that place on earth with all of life. Then the children shall live."

  "Tonantzin, I am most grateful—" Before I can finish the sentence she is gone. The moment she disappears, her pull on me is released and I disappear from the bleak desert setting.

  Now I am back in the void that is so full of life. I hear a voice. "This is the place of creation. This is the place in which it all begins. State your intention to the Creator."

  "I wish to help people retrieve their souls. I wish to help people remember the feminine power of life so that we all may live," I say. "I ask that I may be helped in my work. I ask that the path be shown to me."

  Having fallen asleep in the void, I awaken to a sharp pain in my solar plexus. The pain catapults me back through the veils between worlds until I am in my hospital room. I land beside the bed on which my body rests in a state of limbo. A girl about five years old is standing on the other side of the bed.

  I can tell that she is not in her body and that what I am seeing is her soul. "Who are you?" I ask.

  "Lisa," she replies, with a look of terror in her blue eyes.

  "What are you doing in this room? Are you lost?"

  "I am looking for a home."

  I start to get the picture. I remember hearing an unbelievable story from a friend who had been hospitalized for an operation. One night he awoke to a man trying to step into his body. He had to literally fight for occupancy. He later learned that other people had experienced lost souls trying to steal their bodies. Convinced that my friend was hallucinating, I had never given his account a second thought . . . until now.

  "Lisa, do you know where your body is?" I ask the child.

  "They took it away," she answers, looking down. "I don't know where to go. I am so lonely."

  My heart leaps out to Lisa. Because I haven't a clue how to assist her, I call out with my mind, "Can anyone help me?"

  Within a moment, Isis appears at my side. Placing her hand on my shoulder, she says, "Lisa's body has died, but her soul has not made the transition out of this world. Her soul is stuck here. We can help her move on."

  With that, Isis gracefully approaches the other side of the bed, where Lisa's little soul is standing in despair. Moved to tears by this touching scene, I watch Isis kneel down, look into the child's eyes, and stroke her curly blond hair. The terror in Lisa's big blue eyes seems to vanish.

  "Lisa, my name is Isis, and I am here to help you. Would you like me to take you to a better place?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you remember your grandmother?"

  "Yes, she was always nice to me. She gave me candy whenever I wanted it. She died, you know."

  "Yes, I know," replies Isis. "Would you like to see your grandmother again? She's waiting to give you a big hug and kiss."

  Lisa pauses a moment, trying to make sense of what Isis is suggesting. She is evidently too young to understand that she is dead and that her soul is stuck in this world.

  "How can you take me to her?" she finally asks.

  "Let's call her," says Isis.

  Lisa calls, "Grandma, Grandma, please help me!"

  A tunnel of light forms diagonally across the room. Within the tunnel appears the image of an elderly woman. She has short gray hair and a face soft with wrinkles. She exudes great love.

  "Lisa," she says. "Come to me. I will take you to your beautiful new home."

  Lisa runs into the arms of her grandmother. As Isis promised, the child is greeted with a big hug and kiss. Together they float into the tunnel, taking the light with them.

  I turn my attention to my body lying unprotected and vulnerable on the bed. I'd better not remain disconnected from my body much longer, I caution myself. I must return from my soul travels soon.

  "Isis, is there a way to protect my body until I am ready to return?" I ask.

  She lifts her arms and, running her hands over my body, surrounds me with a translucent blue light. "You will be protected for now," she says.

  Isis and I then step into the corridor. All is quiet here, leading me to believe that it must be late at night. A few nurses are gathered at the nurse's station, but they seem too tired to talk. I worry about them working in this state of exhaustion. A light of compassion flows from their hearts, but it is partially concealed by the fatigue of their bodies. Our lives are so out of balance, I think to myself sadly.

  I glance at the clock on the wall. It's 4:00 a.m. and dead silent. All I can think about is how sterile everything looks. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, all are barren and colorless. The only smells are those of chemicals and medications.

  Isis and I stroll to the window at the end of the hall and perch beneath it on a heater box. I lift the blinds, expecting to see darkness outside, but the streetlights blind me to the night. A light drizzle, combined with the glare of the lights, blocks my view of the sky.

  Cars moving along the wet asphalt below produce a hypnotic sound that captures my attention. "I want to come back to my body and to my life here," I say to Isis. "Many of the places I have been visiting are beautiful. Yet here, although modern technology has eased our lives by protecting us from the harshness of nature, we have forgotten the beauty of the world we are a part of."

  "It is time for you to invite spirit into your life again," Isis advises. "Many spirits are available to help you. They will help anyone who chooses to reconnect with them. Do you think you can teach people about this?"

  "People are afraid of the invisible worlds, Isis. They regard what they cannot see as evil. Indoctrinated into believing only in human authority figures, they fear they will be hurt by spirits. Direct revelation is not supported in my culture. The teaching process will be long and hard."

  "Have you been hurt by any of the spirits you have met during your travels?"

  "No, I have been met only by love. Even the toughness of the anaconda and of the intelligence who urged me to heal the split was an expression of helpfulness and love."

  "Then that is what you must share. Tell people about your encounters. Some will want to experience this sort of love; others will not. Rather than trying to convince anyone, simply open the door to the realms of spirit. Help people get back in touch with their souls. Remind them of their connection to each life form on the planet. You can do this.

  "Evil exists only in the mind, in the ego's separation from the web of life. When one feels separate, harmful words and actions ensue. The spirits, however, have never separated from the source, have no egos, and have no need to harm. So you see, one of the great challenges of a human being is to be a creative individual while maintaining contact with the source. This is not an easy task. But yes, it can be done. Disconnectedness from the source and from nature is a fall from grace; the reconnection is a fall to grace.

  "For people to experience true happiness, they must learn to reconnect with the source and with nature . . . You like to dance, don't you?"

  Entranced by the streetlights and pitter-patter of the rain, I answer indifferently, "Yes, I do. But I haven't danced in quite a while."

  "Think back to when you had a good time dancing with a partner."

  "I can remember one of those times."

  "To create beautiful dance movements with a partner, one must be fully engaged in the dance. Can you imagine what w
ould happen if you were constantly looking around at what others were doing?"

  "I wouldn't be able to connect with my partner."

  "Exactly. Your dance with the spirits you have met is beautiful, and it will continue. Your earth dance with your own soul and with nature can also be beautiful. What you must learn is to stay engaged with your partners, the rhythms, and the movements. Don't worry about what others are doing. Instead, show them how to find their own dancing partners in the spirit world and in the world of nature."

  "This is a powerful metaphor. I will remember it as I continue my soul's journey on earth. Thank you, Isis. Thank you for coming into my life."

  Having taken in all I can for now, I lean my head against the cool window and let the soft sounds of the rain lull me into unconsciousness.

  Waking up in the void, I see a door. Wait, I say to myself, it's not a door—it's a mirror. I float toward it, excitedly setting my intention to go through it and meet up with the tree man and the tiger, who I assume have returned to the meadow. I yearn to feel the earth beneath me, for it has become my home. I want to go home, I call out silently.

  Suddenly the mirror fogs over. Entering the mist, I find myself in a steep tunnel carpeted with rich, dark earth. I climb upward and emerge from the base of a tree on the castle grounds. Glad to be at least in familiar territory, I feel certain of finding my way to the meadow.

  Standing on the manicured lawn, I realize with regret that humanity has even conquered the grass. I close my eyes, take a few deep, centering breaths, and reflect on my meeting with Tonantzin. Her fierceness inspired me to feel good about returning to my life. Moreover, she gave me a reason to live. I now know what I need to do, only I don't know how to do it—a complication that does not bother me.

  The air here is full of life. I receive the offering and, with my eyes still closed, allow it to nourish my cells. I am convinced that my task is to learn how to receive the nourishment around me. And to do this I must, as Mary reminded me, let go of the feeling that I do not deserve love.

  Opening my eyes, I see that I am not only on the manicured lawn but near the pond. I skip over to the cool water and splash some on my face. Then I look up and open myself to the warmth of the sun. Realizing how famished I am from the lack of nourishment in the land of Tonantzin, I resolve never to live in a place of such desolation.

  "Are you hungry?" The voice comes from my left.

  I whirl around. There, sitting on a blanket under a cherry tree, are the tree man, the tiger, and to my alarm, Etienne. His presence distracts me from myself, so I pray for strength and guidance.

  While I stand frozen in place, the tree man repeats, "Are you hungry?"

  "Yes, I am." On every level, I add silently.

  "Well then, come join us," he says.

  Holding my head high to mask my fear, I move toward the blanket, uncertain of how to address Etienne. I think back on my visits with Mary, Isis, and Tonantzin, and connect with the feminine power within me. At last I find the courage to face him.

  "Hey, I missed you guys," I remark.

  They make room for me on the blanket. I sit by the tiger and look into his friendly eyes. Then I stroke his fur, trying to set my nervous hands at ease. He doesn't seem to mind. The tree man's eyes are twinkling as usual, though I cannot tell if he is laughing at me or with me. My insecurity really mounts when I meet Etienne's gaze. We lock eyes for a moment, then breaking the silence, we say simultaneously, "I'm sorry."

  I look down, for my eyes are starting to burn and I do not want to cry. After a moment I am able to face him again. My eyes are watery, but at least no tears are streaming down my cheeks.

  Etienne's face softens to meet my vulnerability. "Listen, I felt threatened by our connection. I shouldn't have acted so coldly. I'd like to try our last conversation again."

  Our last conversation seems like lifetimes ago, I think to myself. I am in such a different place from when we parted. Isis helped me understand that I don't need this man, that I'm capable of finding happiness without him.

  "I've experienced a lot since I last saw you," I reply. "I am ready to start our conversation again. I think I can act differently this time. I have surrendered my desires to the powers that be. I no longer know what is best for us, and I have no intention of trying to hang on to you."

  The tree man and the tiger are listening with rapt attention. I am glad Etienne has met my friends, and I am comforted by their presence.

  "I need time to sort things out," Etienne continues. "I do have obligations, especially when it comes to following my path. But I don't want to give you up. Part of my learning has to do with being fully present in a relationship. I need some time though, C. I hope you understand."

  "I do understand. I don't know if a relationship fits into my life at the moment, although I am certain there is much to be gained in a conscious one. If we are meant to experience that together, it will happen in its own time. I will not fight against the current of life that carries me."

  "Congratulations," the tree man says to us. "I think you are both on your way to learning how to support each other while coming home to yourselves. That is what true love is about."

  What profound words these are, I observe. I'd like a relationship based on supporting each other in coming home to oneself. I don't want to be in a needy relationship; I want to support Etienne as he strives to come into his power and I want that same support for myself. May it be so.

  The four of us remain under the cherry tree enjoying the day and the good company. After a while, Etienne and I recount our experiences since our last meeting. His time—taken up by meditation and observation—seems less dramatic than mine, though he did contemplate our relationship.

  I continue on eagerly, aware that the tree man and the tiger already know of my impressions but are nonetheless willing listeners. "Partnership with nature, with other humans, and with my true love is a thread that weaves throughout my adventures. The world I come from, on the other hand, is rife with societal breakdown. Apart from times of war or natural disaster, people rarely bond together to share resources or support one another. At one time in our history, the young helped the elders and the elders guided the young, but today these two age groups have little understanding of each other and precious little contact. Families are so spread out that they hardly ever live together as tribes or clans. And although modern medicine has devised extraordinary measures to extend the human life span, it does not assist elders in carrying on with their lives.

  "The elders have lost their souls and their visions. Because of this, they can no longer help the young remember who they are and where they come from. Many people in my culture don't even know their ancestral roots.

  "To top it off, communities are changing rapidly. The isolation people feel is devastating. Desperate for camaraderie, many teens are joining gangs and acting out in nonproductive ways. And people of all ages are becoming more divisive and self-centered. It seems that we must at least learn to share resources. After all, we share the planet."

  The tree man breaks in. "What I am hearing behind your words is an intense level of fear."

  "That's true," I reply. "Many people of my time live in fear. Most of my own decisions are sparked by fear. I am hoping to combat some of this anxiety by bridging what I have learned in these worlds with what I know on my own. Some portion of me is now certain that we are all part of a large interconnected web."

  "Do you know the cause of this fear you speak of?" the tree man asks. "Central to the theory of evolution is the survival of the fittest. Simply put, your ancestors passed down very strong genes to help you survive. Had you not received this genetic encoding, you would not be here today. Your ancestors endured wars, famines, and other disasters, and their survival instincts have been passed on to you as a knowing. With it has come the message that the species must survive at all costs. Considering this, I'd say that the fear you refer to is a fear of death, a fear that the species will not survive. So it seems that
both the fear and the underlying message live within your cells.

  "All life forms carry this encoding, for it is part of the earth experience. In addition, all life forms are 'wired' for the fight-or-flight reflex to ensure their survival. So while your connection to nature helps you experience its beauty and its gifts, this connection also guarantees that you will hold the fear of destruction in the cells of your body. As long as you live on earth you will experience fear."

  To this I reply, "Much of what you say contradicts what I have been learning on my travels. On the one hand, I am told that I am spirit and cannot be destroyed, that I must give in to the currents of life, that I need to live in harmony. On the other, I am told that fear and the flight-or-flight response are embedded in my cells, enabling the continuation of my ancestral line. How do I live as a spiritual person and a fear-based organism at the same time?"

  Etienne, with a gleam in his eye, pipes in, "This is exactly what I have been studying. As long as we are human, we will have a body that reacts with fear. Yet we are not just a body; we are spirit in a body. Hence we can learn to detach from the physical organism. And once detached, we can learn to objectively watch our fear, at which point it no longer runs us. I practice observation, and it has taught me a different response to fear."

  "So, what you are all saying is that my fear is natural. It's my response to it that needs to change."

  "Exactly," Etienne and the tree man answer together. Even the tiger lifts his head in affirmation.

  "This is going to take a great deal of practice."

  "That's true," replies Etienne. "But you can fashion the tools you'll need to do it. One good approach is to develop a daily exercise of remembering who you are and detaching from the struggle."

  "Considering all the information I am gathering here, I definitely have a lot of work to do."

  "I need to be honest with you, C. This raises a concern for me," says Etienne. "From what you have shared of your adventures, it seems we are on somewhat different paths. My life is one of contemplation and observation; I am not trying to change the world. If I am to explore a deep relationship with you, I want you to be present in it."