Star Woman in Love (2 page)

“Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I’m starting to believe that you’re beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out of the holes you had dug yourself into. And that’s not the worst of it. The problem is that you don’t seem to learn from your mistakes. You always come from the past. You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...”

I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, sad backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. I felt that the Earth was paying attention to my actions.

“I’m here to retrieve the truth of our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar. We can find it. Bear with me, despite your attention deficit. I’m not mad with you. But your poor decisions bother me. You know that there is magic in words and I’ve always chosen mine carefully, even when they cut like a knife.”

Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, gazing out of the window with your iPod on. You felt my caress and your eyes turned the colour of the night. You placed your right hand on your chest; your heart was racing.

Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water. “My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view, and from my point of you. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies into one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.”

I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was a sign I had landed back into your life. I hoped that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world.

“In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart was a magnet. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder? Can you not see what has become of you?”

A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you: “Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.
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When it ended, you removed your earphones and looked at the sea below the aircraft. The water was speaking: to you. In the Secret Language. You struggled not to listen but you couldn’t help it. When you gave in, my name became a comforting mantra in your mind.

My voice rose unexpectedly. “You are thinking about me too. You long to see me. Mirror, mirror of my soul... I can cast my glance everywhere from here. The call of eternity runs in my veins. Can you feel it?”

I paused and listened for an insight both within me and without me. I scrolled the valley with my eyes, dwelling on the outline of Mellifont Abbey. Memories of us were jumping out of every corner. The rolling hills reassured me with their greenest silence. The air carried traces of the scent of your skin: musky, I could almost touch your taut muscles in the heat of passion. I shivered as my second sight detected you. My spirit started to absorb your essence. It became as vast as the sky.

“You’ve kept your word. You’re approaching. And I have kept mine. I’ve come from the future into your past to take you with me or say goodbye. If you trust me, I will guide you down the alcoves of this adventure. This is our final chance.”

A leaf from the fairy tree under which I was standing fell into the spring water. I watched it flow down the stream that runs alongside the road. The Earth’s watercourses are the best channel to communicate emotions from soul to soul. The spell was cast, my message had been sent and it would be delivered soon, through the illusion of hours and days. I stood up and closed the Gate of Timelessness behind me. I was going to be human for a little while longer.

Light rain began to fall as I made my way to the cottages by the visitors’ entrance. Polly and Letizia would be waiting for me in the coffee shop, over tea and scones. I loved the way they still found my appearances startling, although I always announced them in advance through telepathy. As I turned the door knob, a blue and red butterfly landed on my hand. Message received. The signs were pointing in the right direction. All my powers came back at once and my soul turned gold again. Now I only had to wait for you to turn up.

* * * *

Bed-Time Story, Spring Equinox 1973

We are the Ascended Masters, the saints of all cultures and ages, the gods and goddesses of ancient lore. Through many lifetimes, we have become self-realised. We can raise the vibration of the cells of our bodies to sustain the frequency of the Light. We live in the fourth dimension, at the junction between the material and the spiritual. We can travel across space and time. Our lives are at the service of humanity. Our Plan is to help the Earth to transform back into the Garden of Eden, which is its natural state. Our purpose is to assist humankind in achieving its potential for divinity.

From our abodes in the etheric city of Shambhala, we had always kept a close eye on Cassandra’s developments on Earth. Unbeknown to her, right from the day she was born we had been observing her. She held the Key to kick-start the evolution of human beings into angels. Her stellar heart kept the frequency of unchanging, eternal love. If she could learn to maintain her heart-frequency in the face of adversity first, and eventually in a romantic relationship, her Core, which is the Key, would activate the cells of many humans into evolution. We could detect her easily when she was young and her mind was pure.

She was five when we visited her one night. The sun had long set and Comet Kahoutek was blazing its trail through the sky. This astral body had opened a gate of Cosmic Consciousness so that a number of Star-Seeds like Cassandra could incarnate on Earth in the five years before and after its appearance. From the Teleportation Room, we transferred our Light-Bodies to the girl’s bedroom where we turned invisible. She was lying in bed. A beautiful young woman sat on the chair next to her. They were mother and daughter, as their likeness and the tenderness of their interaction gave away.

“Mummy," the girl said, “tell me a story.”

Her tired eyes were fighting against sleep and just about winning. The dim light of a revolving mobile cast shapes on the ceiling: butterflies, birds and stars. She loved the stars, this child. Despite her tender age, she could name many constellations and loved gazing at their light in the night-time sky. She felt connected to her star-kin. They always made her feel reassured. She knew that she belonged with them.

When she was very, very small her father had told her that she could focus on a star to send her prayers out to the angels, and pass messages on to those she loved. Star-gazing was one of the gifts he’d left her with before disappearing about one year before the night of our visit to her bedroom. He had also helped her to learn to read and write at the precocious age of three. She was bright beyond her years, as grown-ups often told her. She was also very curious.

There was another fuzzy presence in the room that night, of star stock. We couldn’t perceive his energy in detail, but he was somewhat connected to our girl; he was her invisible friend. We ignored him and proceeded to attend to our more important deed. The bed-time story was about to start when we arrived. We had to make sure that this would be the story that the child needed to hear. We gathered behind Cassandra’s mother as she opened her mouth to speak. Our thoughts became her voice as she started channelling our words.

“Once upon a time, on a night like tonight,” she said, “a colony of pioneering souls was standing in a queue on the Dark Side of the Moon, ready for a big journey. Sometime soon the people of the Earth would come face to face with the otherworldliness of these creatures. These spirits’ excitement filled the air. Their Light was bubbly in its radiance. The pregnant, heavy stillness of the Earth’s atmosphere was new to them. Beat by beat, pulsation by pulsation, breath by breath, they trickled closer to the Launcher. They were lost in contemplation, standing as they were on the verge of new territory. The void of potentiality was open wide in front of them.

The concept of incarnation was amusing. Before long it would push them to condense into form, like crystals glistening in the sunshine. They would leave the realm of ideas to become physical entities. They gazed at the blue, yearning Earth. It was calling to them. They could hear the dim hum of the Ancient Tune. That sound was very familiar. It was their direction. The lure of matter and the thought of mortality made them shiver for a second (though strictly speaking they were yet to acquire the concept of time, and ‘a second’ meant nothing to them).”

Cassandra stirred in bed. “These souls..., had they always been alive or was there a point in time when they were not?”

That was an insightful question from the little one. “They were immortal,” we said through her mother’s lips. “And they knew it back then. Their minds weren’t faltering yet. They couldn’t remember anything apart from eternity. At that stage in their adventure, they couldn’t forget that they came from another planet: a different plane which sometimes humans, from the Earth’s viewpoint, call the Morning Star.”

She sighed at the last two words. It was obvious that she was the right girl for our Plan. Her progress had been steady. In the past she could somewhat detect our minds. Now she was engaged in a conversation with us. The tale she was being told was going in a direction she was conversant with. She looked reassured and calm. Through her mother, we caressed her hair as the story went on.

“These spirits understood they would not recall their origin as soon as they’d enter the Earth’s atmosphere. Right then, however, they still felt at one with their birth star, filled as they were by a wholeness that could not be limited by duality or split by gender. They were the One. They were at one with It All. And that was beautiful.”

Cassandra thought that she could see them in her imagination. “They are so pretty...”

“Indeed,” we said. “In their place of origin all Beings are beautiful. Though beauty there is not necessarily what humans consider as fetching. It means being harmonious inside out. These spirits’ outlines contain bright, reverberating cells that gather around their Cores and project into their fluctuating shapes. That’s how these disembodied, Light-speckled Beings resonate to the most exquisite of frequencies. The sensation from their point of experience is similar to what humans refer to as love. But unlike the human experience of love, their perception of it is constant, uninterrupted, undivided. They are made of love.”

“I know what it feels like,” Cassandra said, thinking she was talking to her mother. “Like when I feel so happy because you’re baking a yogurt cake and the sun is shining and the birds are singing and the chamomile flowers smell so sweet!” 

“That’s exactly it,” we replied. “That’s what being at one with everything is. When all your senses – your sight, your hearing, your bodily processes and mental expectations - merge into blissful, liquid awareness which revolves around your happy heart. Now let’s go back to these friendly spirits and the place they came from. You should know that the home they left to come to Earth is the realm of angels. These Beings are Pure Thoughts in the Mind of Creation. Their deeds are perfected to the point that the centres of the souls - their cores - are always following the ever-changing tides of the Life Force. These spirits resonate harmoniously to the beat of love, the Sound that keeps this Universe together. They don’t perceive themselves as apart from it. Love in this sense feels more like layers of sounds that create a symphony to the trained ear: molecules held together by love, shapes formed by love espoused with intention, entire universes gelled together by the sound of creation, by the Ancient Tune.”

By that point in the story, our little friend had given in to deep slumber. It’s remarkable how children can doze off and be sound asleep in a couple of seconds. Perhaps the information we were conveying sounded still a bit too far-fetched, and her young brain could only receive it subconsciously. Nevertheless, we continued to relate these memories of Cassandra’s True Origin. It is our habit to make the most of our points of contact on Earth. And anyway, our words would linger in the room for a few hours, days, months, or even years, until the time would come when she would be ready to detect them, and embrace the message they carried for her.

“These spirits had gone through all possible levels of the Cosmic Game on the Morning Star. Now they were ready for a challenge. The Earth and its human inhabitants would provide it, thanks to what was known as the Experience of Matter, or the Illusion of Separation. They were about to split their soul in two – the idea of ‘two’ being a novelty in itself - and play a sort of ‘hide and seek’ with the Earth as their playground. They would try to make a new kind of creature. Their intention was to incarnate and create a fresh race of angels: human angels, perfected human beings made of a special flesh and blood, capable of self-healing and immortality by means of correct choice. They had to find the right partner in order to regain their full powers.