A Fall to Grace Read online

  I join the circle, turning my head slowly to gaze upon the burgundy cloak covering my shoulders. It has lost its color and is now gray. Looking at my hands, I see that they are gray as well. I lower my head and begin shuffling. Having given in to despair, I am consoled by aligning myself with this lifeless pace.

  An awareness begins to dawn in my dulled mind: I have a mission here, and it is not to shuffle but rather to find something. As I ponder my situation, I hear a voice.

  "Help. Help me." The plea is devoid of emotion.

  Find the voice, I say to myself.

  "Help me. Please help me." Again the voice is lifeless.

  I slowly lift my head. The despair I feel weighs so heavily upon me that all movement is painfully arduous. Just as slowly, I turn my head to see where the voice is coming from. One of the shuffling forms catches my attention. Step by step I cross the circle, cutting off some of the figures to my right. They don't seem to care; they stop momentarily, then move on. I follow a pull on my solar plexus, leading me toward the being who seems to be calling.

  I spot the figure and walk beside it for a while. Without varying my gait, I lift off the hood of the one next to me. Stopping in horror, I scream into the silence, "It is me! This being is me! This plea for help is coming from me."

  I take the hand of the one beside me, for I do not want to lose her. Holding her hand, I continue to shuffle along, my heart beating rapidly. I am radically out of place here, I tell myself. Although I feel sucked dry, I know that I have a hundred times more life force than anyone around me and that I must leave before I die, too.

  Quickening my shuffle, I leave the circle with my other self in hand. The heaviness in the air, the gloominess of the place, and the lifelessness of my other self slow me down. I struggle to speed up. My intention helps carry me to the gate of this living hell.

  Once on the other side, I am greeted by the skeleton. I drop to the ground, drained by the lack of fresh air. The skeleton lifts me up by the arm and points to the waiting boat. Then he picks up the other part of me and carries her in his arms. We enter the boat, where I collapse onto a seat. The skeletons push the craft into the sea and climb aboard. The head skeleton, with his shield at his feet, takes a seat, still holding the piece of me I have retrieved from this place of living death. As soon as the rowing begins, I lose consciousness.

  When I open my eyes, I see the tiger and the tree man at my side in the meadow. Beside them stands the skeleton holding my other self. He bends clown and extends his arms toward the tree man, who takes the lifeless part of me. He sets her on the ground, brushes his hands over her, and breathes over her until her chest begins to heave with the force of life. The tree man then places a small quartz crystal inside her heart. Next he lifts her, and as he does so, she transforms into a ball of light, which he blows into my heart. Joy and peace return to me.

  I sit up with a start.

  "Welcome home," the tree man says.

  He is always welcoming me home from my adventures, I note. "What the hell just happened?" I ask him.

  "Before you could decide between life and death, a piece of work had to be completed. Each time in your life when you wished yourself dead, you sent a piece of yourself to the Land of the Dead. A major part of your life essence, or soul, has been waiting there to be rescued. You found the piece that needed retrieving, and I blew it back into your heart.

  "People often send away pieces of their souls. Yet always these missing parts wait to be recovered. The cause of soul loss can be trauma, illness, shock, abuse, or grief. This is all you need to know for now. Later you will learn more.

  "What is important is that you are back home in one piece. Now you can opt for life over death and get on with your existence. But you must choose. And you must choose now. If you want to live, state it to those who witness you here. If you want to die, let us know so we can arrange for that."

  I look at the little man, the tiger, and the skeleton, each of whom is awaiting my decision in the most serious manner possible. I inspect the ground. I investigate the sky. I know that whatever I say will have significant consequences. If I choose to die, my future is certain; if I choose to live, it is unknown. But the little tree man is right, I can no longer continue living between worlds. I need to have both feet in one realm.

  Again I look at my friends. Then I gaze into the waiting universe and shout, "I choose to live!"

  Even the skeleton seems happy.

  The next few days entail nothing but play. I watch the sun, high in the sky, giving way to the moon and the night. I stop counting the passing hours and give in to the moment.

  The skeleton, meanwhile, has returned to his army. I've grown fond of him and will miss him. The doe, I'm told, is at her home by the lagoon. The tree man, the tiger, and I spend our time romping in the meadow. We speak of nothing important and merely act silly.

  In the midst of our antics the tiger has become my coach. He teaches me how to stalk as we take turns stealthily pursuing each other through the grasses. He teaches me how to gather the energy roaring up inside me and how to sound it out into the world. He shows me how to be passive yet acutely attuned to my surroundings. I am awed by his wordless grace, beauty, and power.

  Then the tree man asks me to go foraging with him. Up to this point he has been gathering food on his own, appearing out of the blue with meals for me. Now we go off together, leaving the meadow behind and arriving at a hillside where the grass is not so tall and allows for the growth of several varieties of plants.

  "The plants volunteer their lives for us," he says.

  My hunch is that he is picking up where we left off back at the lagoon, only now I am ready to listen. "Volunteer their lives for us? I don't understand."

  He continues, "Do you know anything about hunting in the old way—not for sport, but for survival? Have you ever met anyone who hunts in this way?"

  "I once met a man who did; he thought he came from a different time. I've also read books about this form of hunting. But most of the hunters I know view it as a sport."

  "Are you familiar with the idea that an animal knows when it is about to be killed and volunteers its life?"

  "Vaguely," I answer. "I once became a vegetarian because I thought I shouldn't eat anything I couldn't kill on my own. I didn't feel good going into stores and buying meat that was all packaged up."

  "What happened?"

  "I got hungry. So after a few months I went back to the stores and bought neatly packaged kill again. I don't think these animals volunteered their lives for me, but on a gut level I know what you mean."

  "Think of plants," he goes on. "Plants are special beings that do volunteer their energy for nourishment and healing. If you are sick, you can actually find the spirit of a plant willing to provide a cure. Many medicines are made out of plants, but when they are processed their spiritual offerings are lost. What is important to remember is not only that a plant has biochemical components, but that it has a spirit just like you do. If a plant volunteers to merge its spirit with yours for healing, the power of the healing will be that much greater.

  "All beings are alive. All life is sacred. This is a concept most people in your time have forgotten. When human beings were dependent on nature for survival, their behavior was more interdependent. But with modern technology humanity, living in the illusion that it has power over nature, has lost its understanding of the interdependence of all life. We're back to that issue of separation again, but in a different form. People believe that nature serves them by furnishing unlimited resources and that they do not in turn serve nature."

  "People in my time are arrogant. Is this what you are saying?"

  "Arrogant and also childlike. They think that all of life exists only for them and that everything they want will always be available, that no resource will ever be depleted. When one recognizes the sacredness of all life and learns to live in harmony with it, whatever is needed will be provided. But the attitude of 'abuse and conquer without conseq
uence' reflects a state of ignorance. Life on earth is based on harmony; disharmony creates scarcity, which generates disease. That is one of the primary issues facing you at this time.

  "What I really want to do is help you remember how to live in harmony. So let's gather lunch. Begin by closing your eyes halfway—just enough to see where you are going. Then as you walk through the vegetation, notice any attraction you may feel to a particular plant. Sit down by it, and I will come show you the next step."

  I take a deep breath and, with my eyes slightly closed, begin walking among the plants. I sense different energies coming toward me. Near some plants, I feel myself pushed away; near others, I feel nothing. Suddenly I feel a plant pulling at me like a magnet. I sit down beside a tall green plant with beautiful yellow flowers popping out the top of its stem.

  The tree man comes and sits beside me. "Close your eyes," he tells me. "Take a few breaths and settle into your center. What are you experiencing as you do this?"

  "I feel and see the light that lives inside me. I experience myself as light, not as a body. It's a wonderful feeling."

  "Now allow the light of who you are to merge with the spirit of the plant next to you. Don't think about it—just hold the intention to do it."

  I feel myself becoming one with the plant. A loving, nurturing energy swirls about inside me, and I meet it with my light, exchanging essence for essence. I am in union with this plant and no longer know what is me and what is the plant. This, I conclude, must be the sense of oneness the little man keeps talking about.

  "Now pull your energy from this plant enough to be able to speak with it, remembering as you do that you are still part of the plant and the plant is still part of you. Ask if it will share its life with you. Ask what it has to give you."

  I ask these questions, thrilled to be actually talking to a plant.

  The green and yellow plant replies: "As you receive my spirit into yours, I will heal your anxiety and return your essence to its original calmness. I am happy to do this for you, but you must be willing to receive the gift. Eat me, and as you do, open yourself fully to receive the healing. Do not eat unconsciously—pay attention to the energy you are taking in and merging with."

  I think back to my customary eating habits. Boy, do I go unconscious, I tell myself. Rarely do I have a clue about what I am eating. I am usually shoveling whatever I can find into my mouth because I've waited too long and my blood sugar has dropped to dangerous levels. Or I am daydreaming, or working, or talking a mile a minute as I chew. It will be a new experience to open myself to nurturing. I wish someone had taught me this before.

  The little man interrupts my reverie. "Following your breath, bring your awareness back into your body, and when you are ready, open your eyes."

  He waits for me to open my eyes. "Now wasn't that simple?" he asks.

  "How do I know I wasn't making it up?"

  "Notice how you feel after eating the plant. That will be the true test."

  The tree man shows me how to pick the parts that are best to eat, leaving enough for the plant to regenerate itself. I place the pieces in the palm of my hand and bow to the plant, silently expressing gratitude for this gift.

  The little man then leads me to another area on the hillside, where I sit in silence and eat the plant. While swallowing the fresh green leaves, I sense a wave of peacefulness washing over me.

  "There are laws of nature that human beings must abide by," the little tree man adds as we make our way back to the meadow. "They may think they are above the law, but in reality we are all accountable to nature and its laws. We are each a part of life, and not separate from it.

  "And so you must continue finding food sources that are nurturing. Even if you buy food in a store, you can take it home and merge with it. Find out how it will nurture you. If you discover that what you bought will not energize you, consider returning it to the earth rather than taking it inside you. You will slowly learn which foods are enhancing and which ones are destructive."

  "I am not going to ask about my sugar habit," I remark as we begin our return to the meadow.

  The tree man looks at me and laughs.

  "Will I be able to learn more about plants and their healing abilities?"

  "If you choose to, but it is not your life's work."

  "What do you mean by my 'life's work'? I thought my mission was to shine."

  "Earth is a planet of manifestation. Shining your light means giving expression to your creativity. It does not mean sitting on a bench in a garden and beaming at passersby. That could be someone's life mission, but it is not yours. Yours is to express the beauty of your soul in the world."

  "How do I do this?"

  "By following your passion."

  "Please elaborate."

  "You must do what brings you passion, fills your heart with joy, and infuses your life with meaning. If you don't follow your passion, your life may become barren and meaningless, leaving empty spaces within you. Empty spaces provide breeding grounds for bacteria, viruses, and other life forms that can take up residence in the body. They begin to colonize when they have more desire for life than you do. Then they feed upon your body, and you become their container.

  "If you follow your passion, however, you will be full of yourself. The internal microorganisms will then be content to live in harmony with you, allowing you to remain physically and emotionally healthy. When you begin doing what has meaning for you, you will love your life. Of course, there will still be issues to deal with, up-and-down cycles like the ebb and flow of the ocean's tides, but that is a topic for another discussion. For now, please remember that one of your adventures in life is to discover the path that makes your heart feel full."

  By this time we are back at the meadow. The tiger is lying in the grass, soaking up the warm rays of the sun. Aware of our presence, he stretches every part of his body. Imagining how good this must feel, I try to follow his example, but I am unable to access all the parts of my body, and I end up feeling tight.

  The tiger watches me and, with his different-colored eyes, seems to say, You must learn how to loosen up, woman!

  Yes, I must, I admit silently.

  "Are you up for another walk?" asks the tree man.

  "Sure, the air is beautiful and I feel rested. I'd like nothing more than to keep moving with the energy of the plant I've eaten."

  The tiger, the little man, and I pass through the tall grasses, heading away from the hillside where I met the plant helper. I haven't yet walked in this direction and am quick to notice the changing landscape. How many different vistas exist here, I marvel to myself. If you don't like one, all you need to do is keep walking, and sooner or later you're bound to find something pleasing. I guess that's true of life itself. If I don't like a situation I am in, I can get Lip and start moving; at some point I will settle on something delightful, especially if my soul is in the lead. I make a mental note for later reflection: Surrender to yourself.

  We continue walking in silence. Occasionally, the tiger jumps up at me, joyfully exhibiting his love for play. With each leap, I feel a smile in my heart and my breathing deepens, drawing in the fresh scents of the land.

  Ahead of us I see a stone castle that has to be straight out of a fairy tale. It is surrounded by a perfectly manicured lawn. Swans are bathing in a pond out front. Although this place has been touched by humans, it exudes the energy of harmony.

  The trees here are tall and teeming with songbirds that herald our approach. There are peach trees, apple trees, plum trees, and cherry trees—hundreds of boughs laden with my favorite fruits. "Of course," I can almost hear the tree man saying, "you're starting to get the picture."

  Actually, the tree man stops beneath an apple tree and says, "Why don't you go inside and explore the castle a bit." As if reading my mind, he adds, "There is no danger here. I think you will find the castle fascinating. We will wait under this tree for you." The tiger nods in agreement and, overheated, drops onto the cool ground.
r />   I leave my friends and approach the huge wooden doors of the castle. I love buildings made of stone and have long fantasized about living in a stone building deep in the woods. I suppose this hermit fantasy is rooted in my old ambivalence about wanting to live, I say to myself. I used to think of a hideout in the woods as comforting, but now I know it signified my avoidance of life.

  Entering the great stone building, I am met by a blast of cool air. I expect it to smell moldy, for the castle looks quite old. But the air is fresh, and the entryway surprisingly clean. On its walls are portraits of historical figures—a strange sight after all my recent encounters with unusual life forms. The humans in these paintings appear stiff, serious, and self-important. They seem intent on displaying their authority, not their passion.

  Large white wooden doors at the end of the hallway open into a room with high ceilings, long tables, and walls lined with books. It reminds me of an immense library. This room does smell musty; the books, I figure, have been here more years than I can guess.

  I step inside, aware of the sounds of my footsteps on the wooden floor. A man seated at one of the tables looks up. He is the first human being I have seen in these worlds.

  I approach him slowly, for I don't know if I am welcome. He is quite handsome—with dark brown hair, eyes to match, and features, although not perfect, well-suited to his face. I estimate him to be just under six feet tall. And even though we have never met, there is something vaguely familiar about him. I can't put my finger on what it is, but I can tell that I am strangely attracted to his energy.

  I decide to be bold and introduce myself. "I am C Alexandra."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you," he replies. "My name is Etienne."

  "That name sounds French."

  "My mother was French."

  "Oh," I say, a little unsure of myself. "What are you reading?"

  "I'm reading a book about the teachings of J. Krishnamurti. I think he was a brilliant man. I read as much of his work as I can."