Shambhala Page 21
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. In particular, I believe that diseases function as bearers of imbalances, above all, emotional ones. They are what warn us that in our unconscious or subconscious is the remnant of a traumatic experience that still affects us negatively. Something that happened to us that we haven’t overcome or even something that our ancestors confronted, and the pain becomes ingrained in the energy of the clan.”
“What...?”
“I’m referring to energetic inheritances—pain or traumas that last and repeat in families which keep affecting us until we’re able to heal them.” Ian’s face showed that he didn’t understand what I was saying. “I mean that sometimes dramatic patterns are repeated over and over again until someone makes them conscious. And that’s the problem, we tend to activate them without having a perception of them, automatically, and therefore we don’t heal them, but we perpetuate them.”
“Can that really happen?”
“Yes,” I said, without any doubt. “I think my father’s aneurysm could have something to do with the death of my mother and brother. He’s never said it, but I think he feels guilty.”
“Why would he feel guilty?”
“He let my brother drive.” I saw Ian frown and he seemed to not know what I was talking about. “Look, my father had bought theater tickets. He wanted to surprise us. He told us two months in advance to not make any plans for that night. He was very excited about us all dressing up and see the show from good seats. It turns out he hid it very well for the whole time but that same day, I don’t know how, my brother found out his plans. Eric finally persuaded my father to let him drive his car. He argued that being younger, he’d be less likely to be tired for the drive home.”
“I understand. But that isn’t your father’s fault.”
“I know. But you know, sometimes our heads make us think strange things.”
“So, just because he feels guilty, he could have suffered an aneurysm.”
“Yes, I think so,” I mused, trying to tie up the loose ends, “what I don’t know is why it happened now, after such a long time. Could it be coincidence? I don’t believe in coincidences, and less when it has to do with illnesses or accidents. I understand that blood is related to family ties and the joy of living. In this case, it could be logical. But that the aorta has been fractured, one of the most important arteries of the body...”
“The aorta goes through the heart, comes out of the left ventricle,” Ian explained as if we was reading my thoughts.
“Yes, and this may be related not only to feeling guilty for having lost a good part of his loved ones, but to the fear of losing the rest who remain.”
“That is, you.”
“I suppose so.”
“But there’s no reason to think that, is there?” he asked with some concern.
“It may not be done consciously. Apparently there isn’t any reason, though, if he felt that you and I, well, that...”
“Yes,” he answered quickly, circumventing my mental block.
“Do you think he thought that if you and I were together, he would end up alone?”
“I don’t think he thought that directly, but maybe his unconscious mind felt that fear, and in the end, that energy controlled his body and provoked an aneurysm. Besides, with the whole thing about the extraterrestrials, maybe he wasn’t afraid just of our relationship, but that something would happen to me...I don’t know, that they’d kidnap me or who knows what. The subject is so complex. Our head is a world with its own autonomy.”
“We’re the ones who complicate it.”
“Yes, a ‘little.’”
“I don’t know, it’s possible you’re right. Maybe he thinks that you’re going to disappear from his life, too, and all that, along with the absence of the people he loved most in the world. I’d feel broken inside, too.”
“Right?” I said rhetorically. “From an energetic point of view, the veins represent an unconscious desire to keep the family together. I say this because, from what I understand, an aneurysm begins to form due to the deterioration of the central part of the aorta that is the strongest part of the blood vessel. If the central part wears out, the outer walls are stressed and sometimes they expand, accumulating blood and widening, even breaking. It may be a bad comparison, but the aneurysm reminds me of a much larger varicose vein and in a much more dangerous area, of course.”
“It’s odd that he can tell that our relationship has moved forward.”
“Yes, if the unconscious knows what’s going on around it. Our feelings and instincts give us information non-stop, though in general, we ignore it.”
“On the other hand, we didn’t know what had happened until awhile later.”
“Or maybe yes, and that’s why we stayed asleep, temporarily avoiding running into reality,” I answered pensively. “Sometimes sleeping can be a good way to escape problems.”
“I think we should talk to him.”
“Yes. When he’s started to recover,” I agreed, meanwhile thinking about the trip to Gobi.
I still hadn’t told either one of them. I didn’t know when a good time would be. My father had just entered the ICU and, until he left that room and recovered a little, he should avoid scares. On the other hand, I didn’t know when to tell Ian, either. I wondered if he’d want to go with me.
It felt a bit strange to realize I was already taking it for granted that I’d go to Gobi, whether or not Ian went. I don’t know when I made that decision. However, our recent conversation made it clear: my unconscious mind had made the decision at some point and I and my rational part were the last to find out. Even so, I had doubts, many doubts.
Suddenly, I remembered Victor. I had to tell him something as soon as possible so that he could get my airline ticket. But not without talking to Ian and my father.
I tried to relax and trust that I’d find the right moment, the best time to propose my departure to each of them. Then, I would call Victor.
“I think you should text Victor to let him know how well everything turned out,” said Ian as we approached the cafeteria.
Hearing him say Victor’s name made me jump. Had he guessed what I was thinking just then?
“Yes,” I smiled. “When we can see Joaquín, I’ll send a text to Victor to thank him and all his friends for their help.”
“What do you want to drink?”
Chapter 25
The Real Message
It had been a couple of days since my father’s incident. Fortunately, he was already out of danger. They’d transferred him to the tenth floor, where he would continue with his recovery until they discharged him.
During that time, I couldn’t stop thinking about the trip to the Gobi Desert.
I had agreed with myself to take the time necessary to give the news of my imminent departure to Ian and my father when the latter was a little better. That moment had arrived. However, the simple idea of proposing it scared me. I didn’t know how they’d react.
My father had been operated on because, according to my way of thinking and seeing illnesses, he was somatizing some unconscious conflict, some kind of fear or traumatic pain yet to be resolved, specifically his fear of being alone, of losing me. If I left, even if it were only for a few days, it would mean confirmation of his ghosts.
As far as my destiny, I didn’t know how risky it might become. Although there was no danger, something told me it would not be an easy trip. It was likely that this place would awaken my most dormant emotions—and that wasn’t counting the ‘precarious conditions’ that we could encounter. In any case, whatever it was, my heart asked me to meet it.
Those doubts stayed with me non-stop during the two days I stayed at his side. Fortunately, they dissipated once I was home. I suppose that after finding myself back in my own environment and being able to sleep, rest, and eat properly, I was able to meditate calmly on the matter and see things more clearly. Now I just had to face my own fears: communicate it
to Ian and my father, with the only problem being not knowing which one to start with.
I thought I’d speak with my father first, I’d reassure him, and I’d tell him that we’d be together for many more years, and that even though I was in a couple now, he would never be out of my life. Even less so if my partner were Ian. They got along so well together.
But then I thought about it and thought it would be easier to start with Ian. In the end, I was a grown up and didn’t need daddy’s permission to travel for a few days.
And that’s how I did it. While my aunt and uncle took care of staying with my father, I got together the courage I needed to go to Ian’s house to talk to him.
*・。.·.。・*
“Smurfette!” he said, pleasantly surprised as he opened the door. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you to come over.”
Behind his beautiful smile, his voice jingled with happiness. Almost before crossing the threshold, he pulled me by the waist to his body, disarming my tension with a warm kiss and an endless hug.
“Yes, I came over to see what you’re doing,” I said, leaving out the real reason for my visit, though I also felt like spending some time with him. He brought peace to my life.
“Are you coming from the hospital?”
“Yes. I left my aunt and uncle there to keep him company.”
We walked to the sofa in the living room.
“How is he? If you want, we can go see him in awhile.”
“Okay. I thought I’d go later in the afternoon so I can stay to spend the night there.”
“Again? I’m sure he’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not doing it for that but so that he won’t feel alone,” I said truthfully.
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“Anyway, they’ll probably discharge him very soon and then it won’t be so much work.”
“Recovery is usually faster at home.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. There, ugh...there’s a lot of sickness. The energy is so ‘heavy.” He laughed.
“Yes, I agree. You can feel a lot of pain there,” I said making a face.
After that little contact, I thought it was time to tell him my plans. My body—the strong, sharp beat of my heart—told me not to postpone it any more.
“Ian.” It got his attention that I became serious. “I would like to tell you something.”
“What’s it about?” he asked, frowning.
“Remember when I was with Victor, when he came to my house because something big had happened to him?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well....that is...” I didn’t know how to begin, and I started to get even more nervous. I felt my palms sweating while at the same time my mouth felt dry and I got a lump in my throat. It was amazing how something like that, apparently silly and simple, provoked that reaction.
“Take it easy,” he interrupted, seeing my growing uneasiness. “I know what you want to tell me,” he added calmly.
That made me jump.
“What?”
“Yes. I know what you want to tell me, and you don’t need to worry.”
Those words threw me off completely. I was no longer just frowning, now my whole face expressed the exorbitant disbelief that invaded me.
“What do you know?”
“That you’re going on an expedition. To the Gobi Desert.”
My face changed even more. My eyes opened wider, raising my eyebrows even more, making my forehead almost disappear.
“How...?” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“I’ve known since the day of the conference with Enrique Paz. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t believe the message I’d received from the...extraterrestrials. I didn’t have any way to contrast or confirm it. But then I realized the communication I’d received was nothing more than the foreshadowing of something that was doing to happen.”
“But...”
“Wait,” he ordered, in a sweet and affectionate voice.
He got up from his seat and headed towards the interior of the house. In a few seconds, he returned with something in his hand. As he got closer, I could see it better—it was a piece of paper folded up several times.
“What is that?”
“This the real message that I got the day of the conference.” He unfolded it without opening it completely and began to read.
This message is for Aumnox. The 13th of June we’ll wait for her, along with other human companions, in the Gobi Desert, in Mongolia. The program for these times involves the necessity for the beings of your race working for the future of all humanity. It is hoped that many of you will wake up from your lethargy, awaken your consciences and attend to the commitment that you actually made before coming. We will help those who want to take this path, first with individual work and later in groups, so that they remember their potential, their origins and they can be a support for changing the course of the events that are yet to happen. Their involvement is indispensable for the future of your race, and of this planet. We trust in you all. We trust that love will awaken and that you will work together from a new planetary and universal conscience.
At the right time, we know you’ll make sure Aumnox gets this message as a confirmation of what we are waiting for. We will accompany the group in every moment and will coordinate their work from our base in the Himalaya range.
Light on your path.
Eset
When he finished reading the message, Ian smiled. My reaction wasn’t the same. My heart was beating a thousand times an hour, my eyes raced back and forth, trying to find something that had escaped my senses.
“Are you okay?” he asked sweetly.
“How do you know they mean me?” I asked abruptly.
“Because at the same time I was writing it, I saw you walking in the desert with a group of people I didn’t know. Well, yes, I did also recognize your old boss, Victor.”
“And why have you hidden this from me until now?”
“I didn’t want to interfere in your decision. I thought it was best that it was you, freely, deciding whether you would travel or not. Then, when you were convinced, I would read you the message.”
“But I didn’t say that I was going to go,” I said reproachfully, “I only said I had to talk to you, tell you something.”
“You weren’t going to tell me that you are thinking about going to the Gobi Desert?” His tone was lightly sarcastic.
“Yes, but...”
“I saw how nervous you were and I didn’t think it was necessary for you to keep feeling bad, especially since I’ve known about it for days. Besides, if you had wanted to tell me that you weren’t going, you wouldn’t have got like that. We wouldn’t have even started this conversation. You should have seen your face...” he joked.
I turned my head, looking for something to fix my vision on so I could think. I felt so confused...that had so caught me by surprise.
“If I hadn’t said I had to talk to you, would you have shown it to me?”
“The truth is that this was going to happen.”
“What?”
“Yes, that being showed this to me, too.”
I frowned, waiting for a better explanation.
“I saw it. I saw that you came to the house, how you were dressed, how you sat in the exact place where you just saw. He revealed it all to me.”
I exhaled a deep breath.
“Don’t worry, I think that everything is okay and it’s going to continue being okay.”
That did get my attention. Suddenly, Ian was encouraging me? Had he seen that, too? Now he trusted in the extraterrestrial beings, the ones that just a few days ago he was researching for information on and wasn’t talking to me?
“And you?”
“Me, what?”
“If you’re coming.”
“No. I’m afraid that this time I’m staying here. Taking care of your father.”
“I’d like you to come,” I confessed. “I th
ink it’s going to be a very important trip.”
“And I think it’s not my place to go.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they would have told me or, I’ve have known. I’d have felt it or...I don’t know, something.”
I stayed quiet trying to figure out what was going on. For a change, it wasn’t what I imagined what would have happened. Although looking at it from the practical side, now there was only my father left to give the news to.
“So this is what you two were hiding from me,” I said thoughtfully.
“Well...” he folded the paper and put it in his pocket.
“What?” I demanded.
“No, nothing,” he said, avoiding my look. “Now you can be calm, you know what you need to know.”
Those words didn’t convince me. However, I couldn’t do anything, I had to believe that everything would be okay, and that the information I’d need would be arriving via signals or very varied confirmations.
“Did my father know about this message?” I asked, a little more calmly.
“Yes.” He paused. “Do you think this confirms your hypothesis?”
“It certainly doesn’t negate it.”
“You want a drink?”
“Yes, I need some mint tea.”
He laughed. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
I was very surprised to see him once again encouraging me and reassuring me about coming events. Did he know something I didn’t know?
“I have to tell my father,” I said, holding the warm cup between my hands.
“He already knows. He won’t be shocked when you tell him.”
“I’m a little afraid about all of this,” I confessed, with my head down. “I don’t understand what I and a group of people can to do ‘change the course of events.’ It sounds like a science fiction movie.”
“Yeah, it seems like we have more power than we believe, or than we want to believe, right?”
I knew why he had used that phrase. Just a couple of days ago I had defended that same argument regarding the capacity for self-healing, and to the power, in general, that the human being can reach. Now he was making me see that this capacity, this potential, we could develop in all areas and facets of our existence.