CHAPTER 1
They stood, two women, upon the cliff edge.
"Let's jump."
"Don't be stupid!'
"I didn't mean jump from here! I meant let's go back, sit down, meditate, and just jump, just let ourselves go wherever the meditation takes us, with no safety net."
"Cass, we meditate every day," I pointed out, irritated. "So what do you mean `jump'? It's not as if we are new to meditating."
She turned to me. The wind pulled her long dark hair away from her face, and her brown eyes stared at me, into me. "Honey, we have controlled the meditations. We have had a clear focus of what we will do. We have never just allowed the energy to take us wherever it takes us. We have never let loose and just jumped."
I looked down at my hiking boots. "It's not that I don't want to let go," I said. "It's just that I am always aware that I am sitting on a chair meditating, and I don't seem to be able to go anywhere. It's not that I don't want to."
"Kelly, don't look at your feet as if you have something to be ashamed of."
"Fearless bitch," I said with a grin as I looked back up at her. And she was too—fearless.
"There is something that holds you back, and unless we are prepared to simply jump we will not manage to get you away from that chair. I am not saying you are doing anything wrong, or even deliberately trying to keep your awareness on that chair ... but I do think you are ready to jump."
"I don't!"
"Rubbish, of course you are," she insisted and marched off, back to the car.
I didn't speak to her for the half-hour hill hike. She was convinced I was ready, I was convinced I was terrified. Of what? I had no idea!
When we reached Cass's car—an old, dark-blue, Audi station wagon—she tossed me the keys. "You drive, and I warn you, this is the last time you will truly be in control of what you are doing and where you are going."
I tossed the keys right back at her.
"Don't be an ass," she said and tossed them back at me.
I snatched them out of the air, held them tight in my hand, felt the sharpness of the metal. "Oh, all right," I sighed. "Your place or mine?"
"Mine." She glanced at me with that I've-got-a-secret look on her face, and I dared not even ask what was going on.
I caught my reflection in the car window—wavy chestnut hair, pale skin, hazel eyes, and a look of apprehension.
A short time later I pulled into the driveway of a wheat-coloured brick house, and parked in front of the dark-green garage door. I reached out and grabbed her hand before she opened the car door.
"It's okay," she said before I could speak, wrapping her hand over mine. "You know this house is protected by angels, as is yours. And," she paused and grinned, "the two halves of the white amethyst cave arrived yesterday."
I could not suppress the smile. Neither of us could afford to buy both halves, neither of us could bear the thought of them being parted, so we bought them, one each, but always to remain together. They were to live alternately with each of us, one month at a time.
"Let's go," she said, patting my hand lightly as she pulled away.
I groaned. Cass was fearless, and impatient.
I followed her into the house—cream walls, framed black-and-white prints, sage carpet, rimu furniture—and through to the lounge where, in front of a flat-panel television and stereo speakers, the two, two-foot-tall, one-foot-wide, six-inches-deep, caves stood on the floor, like twins, facing us. Even the dark-blue lounge suite seemed to stand back in awe.
They looked like caves lined with frozen snow.
"Amazing, aren't they?" Cass murmured.
"What did Bill say when he came home and saw them?" I asked. Bill was a conundrum—a sales manager who followed a gentle spirituality in all that he did.
"He was pretty much speechless at first," she said, smiling. "Then he said he could tell there was something really special about them, reckoned he could feel the energy they emanated from across the room, and told me not to tell him how much they cost, because whatever it was, it was worth it."
"Bill said that?" I asked, stunned.
"Yeah. I tell you, Kelly, there are hidden depths to that man that are only just beginning to reveal themselves."
I always knew there would be hidden depths to any guy who had an angel tattooed over his heart.
"Did you tell Ryan we bought them?" she asked, glancing at me sideways as she flicked on the stereo. Soft meditation music flowed out of the speakers.
"Yes," I laughed. "He called me a new-age loony, which is funny, because with his sparkling blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair, he is the one who looks like a new-age loony, not me."
"How can a guy be so out-of-the-square and yet be a lawyer?"
"I don't know," I admitted, just glad that the love of my life was a many-layered mystery who I delighting in peeling.
"Right then, let's move them so that we can sit in the centre," Cass suggested.
We struggled with one each until they were about two metres apart, and then we sat between them, facing each other.
"We request that the highest light of I AM surround us, shield us and protect us. Now, get comfortable, let the music help you to quieten your mind, and allow yourself to be fully aware of the white amethyst caves." Cass's voice was soft, melding into the music as if she were a part of it.
The music soothed away my fears. In my mind I saw myself sitting with Cass, and around us the music flowed like pastel colours upon an unseen breeze, wafting round and round the room. The music was colour and vibration—it was tangible. Music was not invisible. And then I saw the caves. The light that emanated from them was intense, but within that light floated tiny rainbow sparkles. The energy from the caves radiated outwards, and as I watched I saw Cass and I enveloped by the light until we disappeared within it.
Suddenly my mind was empty.
"Kelly?" a voice, soft and far away, floating on bands of colour. "Kelly?" Such a beautiful voice, so filled with love and caring. "Kelly?" I felt the sound wrap itself around me like the arms of a lover. "Wake up, sweetie." Familiarity.
Slowly I opened my eyes, and found myself lying back in Cass's arms. I looked at her and smiled, aware that it was a goofy smile. "Hey, Cass."
She shook her head slowly and sighed. "My darling Kelly," she said and kissed me on the forehead. "You jumped." She helped me to the couch. "Sit. I will bring you a cup of tea to help ground you."
I sat, letting my weight fall against the pillows—I could not seem to support myself.
When Cass returned with a steaming mug of tea, she looked at me and shook her head. "Maybe telling you to jump was not such a good idea."
I grinned. "Why not? I'm feeling okay."
"Honey," she said as she sat beside me and patted my leg, "I don't think you're all back yet. Now, sit up and drink your tea."
With a struggle I managed to sit forwards, accept the mug and take a sip, all the while feeling like I was very drunk. As I swallowed, my energy seemed to draw back in, and it felt like it was coming from a long way off . It was a sobering experience as I moved from feeling drunk to being wide awake and alert.
"Okay?" Cass asked.
I looked at her—she was in such sharp focus. "I'm not sure."
"Drink more tea, it will ground you fully back into your body."
I sipped quietly for several minutes. "Everything feels so harsh, so sharp, as if all the soft edges have gone. Does that make any sense?"
Cass laughed. "Like being snapped from a wonderful dream back into crappy reality?"
"Pretty much, yes."
"You'll feel normal soon," she promised.
"I don't think I will ever feel normal again." I felt as if, at the very core of my beingness, I had somehow changed, as if who I was no longer existed, but I did not know who I had become. Had I lost part of myself, or regained part of myself?
"You journeyed far. It is inevitable that you are changed from that experience. Just allow yourself time to be comfortable with who you are now."
Did she know what I had been thinking? Or was she remembering the first time she had travelled far in a meditation? I had not expected to go anywhere at all, and looked at the white amethyst caves suspiciously.
"You want to tell me where you went?" Cass finally asked.
I looked at her. "I have absolutely no idea where I went."
She raised both eyebrows. "None at all?"
I shook my head, and recounted everything I had seen before suddenly 'going' somewhere.
"While you were watching us, did you feel free or were you still aware you were sitting on the floor meditating?"
"I knew I was sitting on the floor, but it was like a show going on in my head." I paused and thought about it for a minute. "I guess what was going on in my mind was stronger than my awareness of sitting on the floor though."
"But you were still very aware that you were sitting on the floor?"
"Yes," I said, feeling as if I should apologise. "Until I was suddenly gone."
Cass sighed. "Perhaps I should not have told you to jump on our first meditation with the caves."
I glanced at her, horrified. "I assumed you knew what might happen?"
She shrugged. "I just thought it would be fun."
"When you talked about jumping with no safety net you didn't have a clue what the risks were, did you?"
"I'm sorry." She put a hand on my knee and I clamped it to me.
"Cass, you're a fucking maniac!"
She pulled her hand away and slapped me on the shoulder. "Now there's the Kelly I love and know so well!"
That night I fell asleep snuggled against Ryan, his chest warming my back, his arm draped over me. As I listened to his quiet rhythmic breathing, I fell asleep and into a dream—or into a meditation, it was hard to tell.
I was sitting on the floor with Cass, and I could see her lips moving, but all I could hear was the soft music. I felt as if I was either very drunk or very far away. Then my perspective changed and I was observing from above. I saw the light from the white amethyst caves intensify until Cass's body and my body below were enveloped in that light.
I woke with a snap, and sat bolt upright, as thunder clapped above the house. My heart beat fast, terrified, and in my mind an image held strong: a golden chalice with four large amethyst stones set around the outside. A tone pulsated in my head—thrumm, thrumm, thrumm.
Ryan slept on. How could he sleep through a storm? And yet when I listened I heard nothing more than his breathing. I slipped out of bed, went to the window and pulled back the curtain. A clear starry night, a gentle breeze, and a black and white cat strolling up the street.
What was going on? Did I dream the thunder? Was it just one dream rolling into another?
Silently I slipped back into bed, but sleep kept its distance.
A golden chalice with four amethyst crystals. Why was that image in my head? Which dream was it associated with? Was it to do with the meditation or the thunder? Had it been two dreams at all? Was the thunder clap something to do with the meditation dream?
Had I dreamt about my meditation with the white amethyst caves, and remembered more?
"Babe, I have no idea what you're talking about," Cass said. Light coming in through the window at the end of the kitchen bounced off the white cupboards and illuminated her softly.
"You've never dreamt about a meditation you've had? Never dreamt about chalices?" I asked, leaning against the bench.
She shook her head slowly and looked at me. "No, I haven't. Which is not to say I'm not intrigued."
"Do you have any idea what it could have meant?"
Silence, as she thought. "I wonder," she began, "if it's your subconsciousness's way of processing the meditation experience?"
"Huh?"
"All those meditations in which you remained aware only of sitting on a chair meditating, makes me wonder if your meditation the other day was too much for you to cope with?"
"I'm 25 years old, not 5," I said, feeling a bit insulted.
She laughed. "I'm not saying you're too childish to cope with it, I'm just saying that maybe you went from going nowhere to going so far away that it is too much to process in one go. Perhaps your subconscious is processing it and allowing it to filter down to your consciousness in a way that you can understand and assimilate."
"I have to be spoon-fed my own experience?" One tiny morsel at a time?
Cass shrugged. "It's just a theory."
"It's depressing."
In the days that followed, life began a slow spiral into confusion.
"Kelly!" Ryan called, standing before me, staring at me with a look of annoyance.
"What?"
"Did you hear a single word I just said?"
"You were talking?"
"I was telling you about the spice-crusted fish I'm cooking for dinner," he said, waving the cookbook in front of me
"Oh, sorry," I murmured. "Sounds delicious."
"You're not all here, are you?" He was joking, but when I looked at him I realised he was right.
"I think I might go have a long, hot bath while you prepare dinner, if that's okay."
He put the book down, slipped his arms around me and pulled me close. "Kelly, my love, you go relax in the bath, and I will do the chef thing."
"You do it so very well," I smiled.
"Yes, I do," he grinned. "Now off you go." He turned me around and nudged me in the direction of the bathroom.
I slipped into the water and lay back, bubbles up to my chin, head resting on the end of the bath.
I thought about what he had said, 'you're not all here.' Was I really not all here? Or was I just confused? Or was I confused because I felt as if I was not all here?
Bingo!
How is it possible to be 'not all here'?
When did this start? When had I begun to feel odd?
I groaned as realisation surfaced. It started with that meditation. What the hell had happened? Where had I gone? What had I set in motion? Had I left some of me behind? Why couldn't I remember it all?
Do you really wish to know?
Startled, I jumped, splashing water over the side of the bath, but then a reassuring calm enveloped me. The voice was gentle, male—definitely not my voice, nor my thoughts—and I knew who, or at least what, it was. The communication suddenly seemed perfectly natural—and slightly over due.
"My spirit guide chooses now to turn up and have a chat?" Spirit guide, guardian angel, it didn't matt er what the title was. "When I am naked in the bath?"
It is not I who have not been talking, it is you who have not been listening, or perhaps more correctly, have not been able to hear.
"There's nothing wrong with my hearing, thank you."
Can I tell you what happened in that meditation, as it relates directly to why we are now able to have a conversation?
Half of me really wanted to say 'no', but the other half of me was desperate to know what had happened in that meditation—and why I had been unable to remember.
"Go ahead," I said quietly, knowing that those words would alter the course of my life.
Your meditation the other day was unlike any other meditation experience. Correct?
"Yes," I agreed. "Normally I am simply aware that I am sitting on a chair or on the floor trying to meditate. The other day I was able to be more in the experience than I was in the body, and then suddenly I was gone."
And you have no idea where you went or what happened?
"None." I admitted. "But I have felt a bit different since, a bit odd."
In what way?
"As if I'm not all here. I know that sounds crazy." No more crazy than lying in a bubble bath talking aloud to a voice in my head?
You meditated with two halves of a white amethyst cave. Neither you nor Cass considered that they were an energy form-
"That's not true. We know they are an energy form," I corrected, not trying to hide the irritation in my voice.
That's not what I meant. I accept that you know they are an energy, but what you did not realise is they are a fully aware energy. The white amethyst caves know that they are a part of I AM, they know they are a part of God.
Speechless.
