A Fall to Grace Read online

  "What does he teach?"

  "He explains how to observe and not judge our thoughts and feelings as they arise. He was an empty being, a true spiritual master. He knew how to be of this life yet not attached to it. You should read one of his books."

  How appropriate for me, I think to myself.

  "Are you from here?" I inquire aloud.

  "No. I am here to learn about Krishnamurti and his practice of inquiry. I am trying to improve my life."

  "I guess that is why I am here, too. Not to learn about Krishnamurti, but to learn how to live my life in accordance with the laws of nature."

  My heart beats rapidly as I speak to this fascinating man. I feel intimidated by him. The cadence of his voice leads me to believe he is highly educated and aristocratic, whereas I am a simple person. I feel crude and clumsy as I stand before him.

  He smiles, which relieves me enormously. "Would you like to go outside and sit by the pond? I know a tree that has the sweetest apples."

  "Yes, I would love to," I reply.

  Etienne gets up. He does stand about six feet, I note. And next to him I feel small—in many ways.

  We stroll out of the library, down the long dark hall, and through the huge wooden doors. The tree man and the tiger are nowhere to be seen. Continuing on around the castle, Etienne and I come to a pond with a small waterfall. We sit on the manicured lawn under a tree laden with reddish green apples. The sound of wind chimes and running water add to the peaceful ambience.

  I sense that this is Etienne's special place. I feel privileged that he has taken me here.

  Etienne asks, "Are you familiar with the practice of meditation?"

  "Not really. I have taken some relaxation classes, but haven't formally practiced meditation. What is it like?"

  I get the feeling that Etienne is not prone to chitchat. He seems to bypass the typical getting-acquainted questions. Although he is physically handsome, I am more attracted to him on an energetic level. Something about his energy fascinates me. He seems so still inside, free of chaos and confusion. Perhaps he has found the center my helpers in these worlds have been speaking of, I tell myself.

  "The art of meditation," he explains, "entails emptying the mind of thought for the purpose of finding your true self. The conditioned mind is governed by thoughts and illusions, but meditation takes you to the truth."

  "I could use something like that. I have been learning more about my true self and would like to know how to anchor the experience. Is meditation hard to do?"

  "What is difficult about meditation is emptying the mind of the endless chatter it engages in. The mind feels threatened when you try to go beyond it. Sometimes mine will strike out by sabotaging my work.

  "One good approach is simply to observe the thoughts and feelings that come up. Just notice them— don't attach to them. I find it helpful to repeat a question such as 'Who am I?' or a mantra such as 'God is love.'"

  "Have you been meditating a long time?"

  "Since I was a young boy."

  "I see. Would you teach me how to meditate?"

  "I'll try. It will take a great deal of concentration and focus at first, so we could start by doing it for a few minutes. Then you can work your way up."

  I want to get to know this man, I decide, and experiencing his path firsthand seems like a good way to start. I hope we will someday communicate on a more personal level.

  "How do we begin?" I ask.

  "Just sit in a comfortable position, close your eyes, and breathe deeply. Breath is life, and as you breathe deeply, your energy will begin to rise through your spine, initiating the process. You could start by silently repeating 'Who am I?' as you inhale and exhale."

  I shift to a cross-legged position like that of Eastern spiritual teachers in pictures I’ve seen. I then close my eyes and breathe into my belly, repeating the question "Who am I?"

  As I do this, I begin to notice the same expanded feeling I sensed with the tree man. I can't determine where my body begins or ends. My mind is not quiet, to say the least, but I'm not attached to the words floating through it. I simply watch them as though they were clouds drifting across the sky.

  I feel my light growing. Yet there is a quality to it I haven't experienced before—something feminine. What I feel, I realize, is my womanness rising within me. I stay with this sensation, enjoying the feeling of being simultaneously expanded and filled with feminine energy.

  Suddenly I hear a little cough and my eyes snap open.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you," Etienne says. "While meditating, you also have to observe outside sounds."

  "That's okay. I think I've had enough for now."

  "Do you want to share your experience with me?"

  I tell Etienne about the light and my sense of the feminine presiding in me.

  "If you keep up the practice, you will go even beyond that."

  "Do you meditate every day?"

  "Yes, this is my path."

  "What else do you do in your life?"

  "I take walks in nature. I play music. My life is really one of contemplation. What about you? What do you do?"

  "Up to this point I have been working hard in an office. But I realize now that my life has had no meaning. I must bring in a more spiritual component."

  "Do you know what that would entail?"

  "I know I would like to spend more time in nature and develop a path of contemplation. I know I want to nurture my body and my soul, and draw more out of my life experience. Figuring out how to do this is a bit overwhelming for me. I am taking in so much information right now that I will need time to adjust to it all. The advice I keep getting is to take things step-by-step."

  "That's good advice. I have been lucky—my path has been clear to me. My life has not always been easy, but I have known where I’ve wanted to focus my attention."

  I know that what Etienne says about himself is true, but I sense that something is missing. There's a dry-desert feeling inside me, as if his path does not provide the richness of the earth we are sitting on. There's a stillness in this man's eyes, but not a joy. I begin to wonder what he is thinking about me.

  "Have an apple," he offers, reaching up and plucking some fruit off the tree. He hands me a large reddish green apple. I take a bite, savoring its sweetness and juiciness. Aware that the apple is giving me a gift, I eat slowly, welcoming the life force this tree has shared with me.

  I tell Etienne about my experience with the plant helper. He listens intently, his eyes growing wide as I describe how the plants volunteer their spirit and life force to help us. A twinkle begins to replace the stark stillness in his eyes. His face starts to soften.

  As I watch Etienne's changing features, I gain new understanding. He has been on a spiritual path with meaning for him, but I long for a path rich with the play and magic I feel with the tiger and the tree man. I loved meeting Jonathan and Leah in the ethereal worlds. I adored meeting the teacher dressed in midnight blue as I left my hospital bed. But I love the earthiness of this place even more and am drawn most strongly to the richness of life and humor that exists here. How, I wonder, do I bring all these worlds together? Can I share with Etienne the quality of life I have found in these realms? Do I have anything to share with this man?

  I have a knowing that Etienne has come into my life for a reason. What it is I do not know, though I feel attached to him in an unusual way.

  As I recount my adventures, I exude charm. Without intending to, I seem to be courting this man with my energy and words.

  Etienne laughs at the antics of the tree man and the tiger. Then he tells me of his travels and his meetings with great spiritual masters. Wit and charm permeate his words as well.

  The more stories we share, the more the stiffness between us is released. Soon we are taking in the aroma of the sweet apples hanging from the tree beside us. And we are listening to the breeze as it blows gently through the wind chimes, blending with the delicate rush of the waterfall.

&nb
sp; We laugh at the plight of the human mind and swap stories until darkness descends on us. When I realize how late it is, I feel compelled to make contact with the tree man and the tiger.

  "I need to find my friends and let them know where I am," I tell Etienne. "Will you wait here for me?"

  "Sure," he replies, staring up at the night sky.

  "I'll be right back."

  I try to get up with grace—an endeavor that proves only semi-successful. Moving quickly, yet without running, I start to search for my friends, who'd agreed to meet me outside the castle doors. Unable to find them anywhere, I console myself, whispering, "It's okay. I feel fine where I am. I know they will find me when they want to."

  I return to the apple tree, only to discover that Etienne has disappeared. Well, maybe he thought I'd be gone longer, I say to myself. I'll just sit here and wait.

  I scoot down and rest my back against the tree, searching for a comfortable position. Feeling too fidgety to sit, I lie on the ground and reflect on my extreme vulnerability. I seem attached to starting some kind of relationship with Etienne. The thought terrifies me, for relationships have not been my forte. Most of my romances have been brief. I end up either breaking the man's heart or having mine broken. And each time I decide to avoid a relationship, there I am popping into a new one. I'm searching for something, I conclude.

  I keep thinking relationships should be simpler, because we are all seeking love. It makes no sense that personality clashes, jealous feelings, insecurities, and different space needs should always get in the way. Why, I wonder, is it so difficult to find someone I can just love?

  I think back to a psychic I once saw, who ended his talk by answering questions from the audience. Troubled by a relationship I was in, I decided to ask if the other worlds would share wisdom with me. I was skeptical of unscientific phenomena, yet so desperate for answers that I was willing to open to supernatural realms. When I asked my question, the psychic closed his eyes and said the name of the man in question. This impressed me, for I had not given him the man's name. I uncrossed my legs and shifted to a more open position.

  He went on to inquire, "You are asking me about happiness ever after, aren't you?"

  "Yes, I guess I am," I replied.

  "There is no such thing as happiness ever after."

  My energy fell deep into the earth. What was I supposed to do with this information?

  That episode was the beginning of the end for me. I set out to disprove the myth of "happiness ever after," but I could not manage to remove myself from the relationship loop and the consequences of a repeatedly broken heart.

  I stare into the night sky. I really want to be with Etienne. Although I don't know him, I feel a longing in my heart for him. A question from the tree man comes floating into my mind: What qualities of yourself are you projecting onto this man?

  Maybe I am projecting onto Etienne, I confess. I love his charm and wit and self-assurance. Surely these could be qualities I’d like to see in myself. But projection or not, my female hormones are starting to kick in. I am attracted to this man on levels beyond personality and spiritual knowledge. I want Etienne. And he is not here. What if I never see him again? I guess the hormone stage will pass and I will get on with my life, I reason. I know this scenario pretty well.

  I shift my gaze from the beauty of the stars to the sliver of moon just beginning to form. Once again I hear the moon calling to me. I wish I knew how to open to her, I tell myself.

  With that, my eyes close, taking me into a deep sleep.

  I wake up in a bed in the hospital room. I am hooked up to monitors of all sorts. What should have been a simple operation has been jeopardized by the great force of nature causing the land to shift. I am in pain and my vision is blurry. I am cold but cannot find the voice needed to ask for help. I can't seem to move my limbs either, perhaps because I am not yet fully in my body.

  The door is open, and as I watch the bustle of activity in the hall, my vision begins to clear. I am helpless in this state, I realize. I hope someone comes to check on me soon.

  All of a sudden my heart starts to pound. I see Etienne in the hallway talking to some of the nurses. He is holding a bouquet of flowers.

  My body is too racked with pain to contain my awareness any longer. I slip back into unconsciousness.

  I drift up past stars and planets. I soar through cloud layers and beyond the crystal city where I met Jonathan and Leah and saw the lights about to be born into the world.

  At last I arrive at unfamiliar territory in the night sky. From here I can see the moon as she begins her new cycle. I hear water flowing and, looking around, discover that I am by a river. A woman is seated on the riverbank. Moving closer, I see that she is brushing her hair. The sweet fragrance of amber fills the air.

  "You can approach," she says in a voice almost too strong for her size.

  She stands as I walk toward her, seduced by the power of her presence. She has shoulder-length black hair, dark skin, and eyes as black as the night. She is dressed in a cobalt-blue tunic and is adorned with gold jewelry. Her beauty, unlike that of my first teacher, is earthy in a way I can only describe as magical.

  "Welcome to my home. I am the goddess Isis," she announces.

  "Thank you," I reply. "My name is C Alexandra."

  "I know," she says calmly. "I have been watching you for some time."

  Her body is firm and robust, exuding love through every pore. She appears unshakable, graced with the energy of unconditional love and immeasurable strength. She is pure feminine power.

  Isis returns to her spot by the river and I sit beside her. "I've been watching you with this man you have met," she continues, once again brushing her silky black hair. "What are you calling to you?"

  "I want this man," I answer, reminded of the anaconda's warning.

  "Do you have any idea what you are asking for?"

  "No, but my body is surging with desire and I am willing to take the risk."

  "I understand." She stops brushing her hair and looks at me, adding, "Are you calling him to you or are you trusting that he will come to you on his own?"

  "I want this man," I repeat.

  "Don't use unnatural powers to get him," she implores, "or you will regret it for the rest of your life. If you are meant to be with him, C Alexandra, let him come to you out of his own free will."

  "How do I control my female desire? Isn't wanting someone part of courting?"

  "Yes and no. It depends on what you are after. If you are seeking a one-night stand, the desire you feel is appropriate. If you are seeking something deeper, you must go beyond this. In my estimation, it seems you want something deeper.

  "An untapped feminine power is starting to rise in you. You want that power met. If this is the man to do it, let him walk into your life on his own two feet. If you continue to use the charm you speak of, the magic will eventually wear off. And then where will you be? In another empty relationship leaving in its wake two people stunned by the illusion they have engaged in. Maybe it's time to try something different.

  "You are beginning one of the most important adventures of your life. The lessons you will learn from being in relationship can spark the understanding you seek. True love, remember, replaces all prior knowledge. And you are about to embark on the path of true love."

  "But I don't want true love."

  "It's too late, my dear," she says with compassion in her eyes. "You have already asked for it."

  A pink-orange glow in the dawn sky wakes me up. My heart is heavy, for it is morning and Etienne has not returned. Moreover, my meeting with Isis has left me feeling afraid and more vulnerable than before. What, I wonder, have I called into my life? What roller-coaster ride have I opted for this time?

  I must clear my head, I decide, looking at the pond. It's going to be cold, but a good blast of chilly water is just what I need. Seeing no one about, I remove my purple fleece jacket, slip out of my clothes, and jump into the pond. The water does wake
me up. Better yet, it eases all the old fears roused by my desire to be with a man.

  The water feels good against my body. As I swim, I imagine merging my cells with the molecules of water, and soon I am feeling myself as the water. Water doesn't worry about speed or obstacles, I remind myself; it simply flows from its source, changing its direction and shape as it moves along.

  A deep voice pulls me from my oneness with the water. "Good morning."

  Startled, I look up. Etienne is standing by the edge of the pool.

  "How's the water?" he asks.

  "Delicious," I reply. "It's cold, but refreshing. Do you want to join me?"

  Etienne takes off his clothes, revealing his muscular body, and jumps in. He's graceful in the water and clearly an experienced swimmer, I observe. He, too, has probably merged with the water spirit—I can tell by the ease with which he dives underwater, surfaces, and plays with the waves he's created. Finally he swims toward me.

  Having treaded water all this time, I am a little out of breath.

  "I'm sorry I disappeared last night. I hope you didn't take it personally. Sometimes an energy grabs me, and if I don't go with it, I miss an opportunity."

  "What do you mean?" I sputter.

  "The energy of a spiritual teacher I have been wanting to meet was moving through the field after you left. I needed to follow the pull to meet her, for I didn't know when she would be coming back through."

  "I haven't had that particular experience, though I have followed my share of pulls. I must admit I was somewhat taken aback when I realized you weren't returning. I am not the most secure person, and I thought I may have offended you in some way. In any case, it was lovely sleeping out here last night and I had a powerful dream. So I guess it was all perfect."

  "Your lips are turning blue. Let's get out of the water."

  We kick off together. I have to work hard to keep up with Etienne. Even so, I am comfortable swimming beside him. Being naturally buoyant in water, I feel as though someone is rocking me in a cradle.