Chapter One
I’m sitting in a passenger car of a speeding train watching images to my right fly by outside my window. I have no idea what my destination is but I am content to whisk through the void to greet it. As the images blur past me I notice one that catches my eye. A homeless woman, aged with curly pepper hair and a slight frail body stands near a corner of an abandoned alley constructed of an old gray warehouse and several gray story buildings. The weather was cool, she seemed to be the only thing lit in color, and that of brown paper bag shades. The old woman seemed to be lost, confused, and rather frightened. I imagine myself to be standing on the second story balcony of one of the shadowed buildings to her right as I watch her. Before I can figure out why she is in this place two hoodlums come up and start to harass her. She tells them to go away and leave her alone. This, however, only amuses them more to taunt her. I get a sense that she is a powerful witch, but she doesn’t use her powers. I wondered if that is why she is afraid? Did she misuse them once and that is how she became alone, wandering the streets?
The old woman again bats them away as the thugs come near her. She warns them not to mess with her for she would cast a spell on them. The young men just laugh at her and think she is crazy and pathetic.
It bothered me tremendously to watch her being hunted and haunted. I decided to help her. I jumped off the balcony and I landed onto some wood crates below, which startled everybody. “Leave her alone!” I yelled at the two thugs. “Get out of here!” I kept screaming when they didn’t move. They were frozen as if they didn’t know what to do.
“Who are you?” the old woman asked. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to cause me more trouble?”
Up to this point I kept my eyes on the men, just in case they tried to run at us. I grabbed a stick from one of the broken crates in which to defend us. Now, however, the old woman’s questions caught me by surprise. She thought I was here to hurt her just as the hoodlums.
“No, you don’t understand, I’m trying to help you.” I said reassuringly to the woman.
“I’ll put a spell on you too.” She responded fearfully. “I’m a powerful witch and I can do whatever I want, to all of you!” she yelled louder backing up in defense.
I was confused. Was she blind? Did she not see I was guarding her? I looked at her eyes closely. She didn’t seem to be blind. Still, I responded, “I’m on your side. I’m standing here with a stick to fend off these two guys.”
“I don’t need your help.” She exclaimed. “Do I look like I need your help? Where did you come from? Why have you been watching me?”
I was perplexed. Even the men who had been harassing the homeless woman earlier seemed confused by our conversation. They decided it wasn’t worth their trouble and scattered away.
I let down my defenses, dropped the stick and turned to the witch. “It’s okay. They’re gone now.” I said with relief.
“Why are you still here?” she yelled defensively. “What do you want with me? Leave this place! Leave me alone!”
She acted as if I was the one haunting her. What happened to this poor woman? I thought.
“Go away!” She screamed at me when I didn’t move. “Go away!” she sobbed.
I withdrew my consciousness from the scene and left the homeless old woman alone with whatever peace she had left. I didn’t quite understand what had just happened, but once again I was on the speeding train heading for a destination that only Spirit knew its end. This time I decided not to involve myself in anymore images floating by my window. I settled back in my comfortable plush two-person seat in my private car and relaxed until the train decided to stop. I closed my eyes and rested.
Chapter Two
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer moving forward. The train had stopped. I looked out the window, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. I stood and opened the compartment door and walked along the corridor to the main part of the train. All the seats were empty. I must have fallen asleep and didn’t hear the call that we had arrived. Where was I anyway? I stepped off the train and looked around. There were very few people at the station. All seemed to be workers of the train depot, and they paid no attention to me. I figured if I had any luggage they would be kept safe at the station, so I decided to explore, and find them later.
Once looking in each direction I headed left. As I walked I noticed my dress. I felt as if I was wearing some turn of the century 1900s layered garb, complete with boots and a large hat. I walked on wooden planks. As I was nearing the corner of the train depot, a large pillared stone white building came into view. It was breathtaking with fountains and lush landscaping. I thought it must be some government building and would be an excellent place to start my visit.
I walked up the cobblestone street toward the cobblestone driveway. While walking the slight incline of about four blocks, which was longer than I thought, my clothes started feeling lighter. With each step my garments transformed until, when I reached the front step, I was in the turn of the century 2000 garb, complete with tennis shoes and capris.
I reached for the long cylinder metal door handle to pull open one of the two doors, but before I could pull it I felt someone on the other side pushing it open.
“Welcome.” A pleasant voice ushered me in out of the sunlight. An older graying haired gentleman, about my height and wearing a sharp navy business suit, shook my hand. “We have been expecting you,” the man continued to smile. Though he caught me by surprise, I felt immediately at ease with him. He was quite handsome. He looked like he might be in his late fifties. He had dark thick hair on top with silver etching his brows. He had a very soothing demeanor and it felt as if he was waiting for me to process him and adapt to his energy.
“Hello.” I smiled in return. “Thank you.” I said feeling completely comfortable with him, but missing the ‘expecting you’ part of his sentence. Continuing the pleasantries I said, “I was admiring this building from the train station, and thought maybe I could look inside. Maybe you have some tours available?” I asked.
“A tour,” The gentleman’s face brightened. “Yes, certainly I can take you on a tour.”
Cool, I thought. I looked around to see where I should check-in and pay for a ticket. I didn’t notice any place right away. “Is there somewhere I should pay for a ticket? Or do you have certain tour times? I notice I don’t see any groups waiting. Do I need to come back?”
“Oh no,” He assured me. “This place has been designed for you and it is free. No one else is coming, and I’d be happy to guide you through this place myself.”
“Oh.” I said a little confused by his answer. This place was designed for me? That’s curious. The man’s nature seemed to be completely hospitable and inviting though. “Well, lead the way.” I decided without reservation. I could tell there was much to see and its interior was a grand sight. The lobby was finished in marble and cathedral arched ceilings. Book shelves, chandeliers, leather furniture, plants, corridors decorated the sight in such opulence and invitation that it almost seemed like a grand library or something.
As we headed off to the right, down a hallway it seemed as if the lighting changed. From natural sunlight came electrical fluorescent lighting which seemed to cast indigo hues on the walls. Upon further inspection, the wood paneled walls turned to ceramic indigo tiles in 6x6 inch squares. They were beautiful!
“Well, I didn’t expect that.” I said examining the walls.
“What’s that?” the tour guide asked me and stopped.
“Tiles. I thought this whole place would be made of marble and wood.” I responded.
“It has been, but we find upgrades are helpful in keeping with the generations.” He explained matter-of-factly.
“It’s beautiful.” I replied.
“Thank you. Go ahead and touch it.” He encouraged.
I did desire to sense the tiles through my touch, but I shied away not wanting to perturb any janitor from oily fingerprints.
“It’s okay.” The guide reassured me. “I want to show you something.”
So I ran my right hand along the glossy ceramic surface and right away I was surprised by how cool it was. “It’s cool!” I exclaimed with shock. I looked around my environment to calculate how that could be? I sensed my own temperature, everything seemed to be a pleasant warm atmosphere, but the tiles were cool, significantly cooler than they should have been.
“Yes.” The guide smiled. “You know why?”
“Uh-uh.” I answered perplexed but intrigued.
“It’s because it is your sub-conscious.”
“Huh?” I asked startled and even more confused.
“It is your sub-conscious, and since your sub-conscious is under or beneath your conscious your brain interprets that as a shadier cooler environment like an underground temperature. It’s fascinating really. We are warm, but it is cool.”
“This is my subconscious.” I repeated his words trying to grasp what he was telling me. I looked around at the wooded doorways, marble flooring, artificial incandescent lighting, and ceramic tiles. “All this is not real?” I asked him.
“It certainly looks real and feels real, and is real for this environment, but is actually as empty of substance as the darkness surrounding your dreams. The walls look solid, don’t they?”
I turned to look at the tiled indigo walls again. I nodded in answer just listening.
“But they are not. You are in a dream, Amie. This is a dream. All of this has been constructed for you at this particular time for those you’ll meet why you are here and the lessons you will take with you once you leave here.”
As I listened I kept trying to grasp that the wall I was looking at wasn’t solid. I tried to imagine that it was completely empty of matter and only a dream.
“Go ahead, push the wall. See if you can move it.” The kind man stood patiently.
I placed my hands on the wall and gave a little push. It certainly felt solid.
“No, really experience this. I want you to push the wall as hard as you can and see if you can move it. We know this wall has no matter, so you ought to be able to push it down and crumble it.”
This made sense. If I was dreaming, and dreams pass like wisps of smoke, and this wall represents the boundary of my dream, I ought to be able to push right through it. I put some shoulder action into it and really tried to knock the wall down. I even felt my sleeping body grunt with the effort. The wall would not budge.
“That’s so strange.” I said to my guide while rubbing my shoulder.
“It is one of the beautiful creations of this place.” He answered admiring the architect. “Well,” he said after a pause, “shall we continue the tour?”
I nodded and we began walking again approaching a door at the end of the hallway.
Chapter Three
“Now when we reach this door up ahead I’m going to pass you onto someone else who will show you the rest of this place and guide you along your tour.”
I didn’t really want the kind gentleman to leave. I had become so accustomed to his friendly loving nature. But as I had earlier suspected, he was the Director who had others to correspond with the visitors and was now passing me off.
As if hearing my thoughts he said, “I would direct you myself, but this guide is better equipped to lead you through the back rooms than I am. I want you to have the best tour possible. Now, while you are here there are a couple of rules you’ll need to remember. First, since this is your subconscious, everything and everyone represents you in some fashion. They are a reflection of you. If you can remember that you’ll get the most out of this place. Second, since this is a dream, you’ll only have so much time here before you wake up, so take advantage of the time. You got all of that?” The man stopped in front of the door.
“Yes,” I answered, integrating his instructions into my mind. “This is my subconscious. This place and the people represent me in some way. I am in them and they are a part of me.” I felt my energy expand with this awareness as I looked back at the strangers behind us down the corridor.
“Correct.”
“And I’m only in a dream, so I need to do what I came here to do before it ends.” I finished.
“Very good,” the Director said satisfied. “I believe you are ready to move on.” He opened the large metal door and we stepped through. Just on the other side stood a woman who was about his age with faint reddish hair pulled back in a bun. She seemed a little stockier, but about the same height, and she wore a dark pink printed dress. Her energy did not seem as comforting or tender as the older gentleman guide, but I hoped it was merely the new unfamiliar surroundings that gave me that impression.
“Wonderful! You’re here.” The Director said to the woman. “This is Amie. I’m placing her in your hands. Amie is already familiar with the rules and is ready to continue with what you can show her.”
“Fine.” The woman nodded.
The gentle male guide turned to me and said, “This is where we part. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.” I replied. The man smiled at me and the woman and turned to disappear behind the metal door.
“Well, perhaps the first thing we need to do is let you settle in a bit, let you get comfortable with your surroundings, before we continue.” The woman guide said. Her energy was more comforting than I first thought with some relief. She still wasn’t as inviting as my first guide though and I already missed his energy.
“Settle in?” I asked. Wasn’t this a tour? I thought.
“I thought we were past that.” She responded to my thought. “Back here are classrooms.” She began leading me down the hallway. “At the far corner is the bathroom and showers. You’re invited to clean up and really get use to this place and then we’ll continue. I’ll come get you when you’re done.” The lady led me to a locker room where I could change and left.
I didn’t understand what any of this had to do with my visit, but I followed the instructions. I placed my clothes in a locker and headed into the shower room. Upon opening the door there was a wall of about four spigots that allowed for no privacy whatsoever. If someone were bathing, everyone in the hallway would see everything if the door were to be opened by someone coming in. However, there were also private stalls with curtained areas to choose from. No one at the time was showering so I had my choice of place. I decided the public area in front of the main door was to my liking.
I stripped my towel and hung it on the rod and began soaking under the warm water. I found soaps on a shelf waiting for me. As I was lathering, a tall beautiful mocha skin woman walked in and joined me in one of the spigots to my right. At first we didn’t talk and just enjoyed our shower. Periodically other women walked in and took a private stall. The room was feeling very misty and warm.
“I’m surprised to see you in the public area.” My shower mate said to me.
“Excuse me?” I asked, rubbing the water out of my eyes.
“I said, I’m surprised that you chose to shower in the public stall.” The mocha woman repeated.
“Why is that?” I asked letting the water flow down my back.
“Well, I thought you didn’t like your body. For someone body conscious you sure chose a spot where everybody could see you naked. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Not at all,” I answered. “I don’t mind if anyone sees me naked. It’s rather liberating to bare all to anyone who might peek. I’m not ashamed of my body, and I have nothing to hide. Is my shape perfect? No, but I don’t see the need to dislike it. Besides, if they didn’t want anyone to look, they shouldn’t have put a public stall in front of the door.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.” The woman said. “I totally agree. I just thought someone said you were a bit body shy.”
“Nah,” I replied turning off the water and began drying off. “I suppose I’m like everyone else, just improving on what I’ve been given and what I may have added to it.”
She smiled and I said good-bye as I opened the door to leave. Another woman joined her, taking one of the spigots to her left.
After I changed back into my clothes I joined the female guide in the hallway. “Still remember where you are?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Good. Let’s go into here,” she waved me into a large rectangular room on our right, “and let’s see if I can help you to see what you came here to learn.”
Once inside the room the woman began asking me a series of questions. “Now, who are you?” she began pacing around the room, which looked like some hotel ballroom that could be sectioned into three rooms. There were a set of double doors leading into the hallway for each section. The room colors were fashioned in a peach melon shade with some general diamond lattice floral pattern carpet.
“I’m Amie.” I answered thinking she forgot my name.
“No, who are you?” she asked again.
I was puzzled. “I don’t think I understand the question.” I stated.
“Maybe we should start with something easier. Who am I?” the female asked.
“You’re my guide.” I answered.
“But who am I?” she pressed further.
“Um, I don’t know.” I stated once again perplexed.
“I thought you said you remembered the rules.” She said exasperated with me. “Who are those out there?” she pointed to the hallway.
“Oh!” I caught on. “They are a reflection of me. They are a part of my dream as you are. You each have something to offer me about myself.”
“And who are you?” she asked again.
Ugh, we were back to that question. “Um, I am the one having the dream.”
“But who are you?”
Searching deeper, hoping I could satisfy her, “I am a part of my subconscious trying to integrate a lesson to my conscious.”
“No, you are not getting it,” she exclaimed frustrated. “How can you get what I’m trying to teach you if you aren’t even aware of the very first step?” She wrung her hands and thinking of a different tactic. “Okay, remember the walls you tried to push down?”
“Yes.” I answered
“Why couldn’t you push it down?”
“Because it was constructed for this dream.”
“Yes, but if you were greater than the dream, you ought to have been able to push it down. Now, why couldn’t you?”
“Because I wasn’t meant to. There was something here I needed to learn.”
The woman didn’t respond to whether I correctly answered her or not. “What about this table?” She laid her hands on a large rectangle utility table at the end of one room covered in white linen. “Do you think this table is any more real than the wall you tried to crumble?”
I had no idea where she was getting at. I thought we covered this material already. “No, everything in this dream is not made up of any matter.”
“Okay then, then who are you?”
I shook my head knowing this was going to dissatisfy her, “I’m Amie.”
“No, we’ve gone over this. Who are you?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I became apprehensive and defensive.
“Getting defensive is not going to help you. You need to get this. Now try again, who are you?” The female guide pressed.
“I’m…” I didn’t know what to say.
The lady sighed loudly with disgust. “I don’t think I’m the one who can teach you this lesson.” She stated with annoyance. “We’re almost out of time and you still don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Tell you what,” she said looking at the clock on the far end of the room, “you have about twenty minutes to understand what I’m asking. I’m going to leave while you stay here and think about it. If you figure it out before the twenty minutes are up, then come find me, and we’ll continue. If not, then this dream will end and you’ll have to come by your answer another way.” She walked out of the room without discussion.
The clock read four o’clock and I was left alone with my thoughts.
Chapter Four
I really wasn’t trying to perturb my guide. What was I missing? Why couldn’t I answer her simple questions? I was still lucid, wasn’t I? I still remembered the rules. The male guide told me the people represented me.
Reasoning this all out I continued, They are a part of my mind . . . which means, they are me, in different character and form. I thought I was on to something and started pacing around the room. I was determined to not only please my guide, but to also learn from this teaching dream before it was over. Now that I knew when it was going to end, I could keep track.
A man and a woman walked into the room. They were arguing at whose opinion was better about something. I ignored them at first, but they were distracting me from my thoughts.
“Excuse me.” I said trying to get their attention. They kept spouting nonsense off to each other. “Hello.” I tried again.
“What? What do you want?” the man asked irritably.
“Hi. Uh, do you think you can have your conversation some place else. I’m trying to work out a problem and you two are distracting me.”
“Well, pardon us, for distracting you.” The lady smarted back. “But we’re trying to solve our own problems and you are distracting us.”
“Yeah.” The male shot back. “And who said this was your room anyway? None of the doors were locked. That tells us we can go anywhere we like.”
He was right. The doors were unlocked and wide open. That meant anybody else could come in too, and I couldn’t afford more distractions. I didn’t have much time and I couldn’t allow any non-lucid states to begin. I walked to the first set of double doors to the left, the one this couple walked in from and the female guide also left from, and shut and locked them. The couple inside the room were spatting off to each other as I walked up to them and tried to usher them out of the second set of doors in the center of the room.
“Hold on then.” The male said. “What are you doing?”
“You need to leave. I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but I need this room to figure something out and since I was here first, you need to go somewhere else. I’m locking all the doors so no one else can walk in, and now you need to exit.”
“Don’t you think you are being rather rude?” the male questioned me.
“I’m done.” The woman stated exasperated and walked toward the hallway.
“Wait a minute,” the male turned back to his companion, “I’m not finished with you.”
“Well, I’m not finished with you either, but she doesn’t seem to want us in here, now does she?”
“So what? We have the right to say in here as much as she does. So let her lock the doors.”
“But I don’t want to get locked in here!” The woman argued back.
“It will only be locked from the outside.” He retorted.
As I listened to them arguing once again, it dawned on me that they were purposely trying to distract me. They were some part of me that didn’t want me to figure out the answer that my guide was directing me toward. Why? “Why are you here?” I asked them. They ignored me arguing over each other. “Why are you here?” I asked louder. “Why are you deliberately trying to distract me?”
“We don’t know what you are talking about, love.” The female finally looked my way and answered me.
“Oh, yes you do. You are a part of me. You are a part of my mind, and you’re trying to keep me from thinking things through. What I want to know is why?”
For once they were silent.
I took that as a sign to press them further. “The thing is you know something. You can help me figure things out. Why couldn’t I answer the woman’s questions?”
“Because you still don’t understand what this place is about.” The male responded.
“I remember the rules.” I replied.
“What’s the point of remembering the rules if you don’t apply them to the questions?”
“That’s why she was upset at me? Because I wasn’t applying the rules?” I thought back trying to piece the puzzle together. About that time a short thin woman, who seemed like a secretary, walked in the third set of doors to the right and placed something on the table. She looked at me and said, “This is for you.” Then she left.
I walked to the table and looked out into the hallway. The secretary was gone. The squabbling couple left and I heard the second set of doors lock behind them. I looked down at the table to see what the thin woman brought me. A clear pie plate had some water in it with some toy rubber shaped fish, filled with blue water or gel, floating around. Plastic wrap covered the pie plate and a yellow post-it note was attached to the top with a message written on it. I decided before I read the message I would lock the last set of doors, so I could have some peace. Maybe the message was a hint from my female guide.
I locked the doors and looked at the clock. I had ten minutes left. I had already used up half of my time. I walked back to the table and read the note.
Amie,
Not everything
that looks like food
is food.
What did that mean?
Chapter Five
I stared at the note. Not everything that looks like food is food. Not everything that looks like food is food. Who am I? How do I apply the rules and this hint to her questions?
While deep in thought the room behind me filled with conversation. I turned around confused. The once empty hotel style ballroom was now designed with rows and rows of long tables and chairs seated with children and sprinkled with adults, presumably their teachers.
How did they get here? I thought I locked all the doors? I grabbed the post-it note and walked to the back left corner of the room, straight from the last set of doors I was standing in front of, to survey that indeed all the doors were shut. Yes, they were. Then how did all of this get in here?
Then it began to dawn on me. This is my mind. They are my mind. It’s going to be futile to lock the doors. That’s not going to keep my mind from producing whatever it wants to fill this room. And there is nowhere I can go because more distractions will just follow. “Okay,” I resolved to myself, “if I have to do this with people in the room, then that’s the way it’s gonna have to be.”
But, this note came right before they showed up, I thought, looking around the room at the conversing crowd. Which means, somebody is trying to help, not everything is a distraction. Okay, let’s see. I decided to test my theory and walked up the far aisle from the doors taking in the scene. The children looked as if they were no more of age than eight. Everyone and thing was dressed in shades of white, including the empty plates.
Studying my environment I muttered under my breath, “Not everything that looks like food is food. All of these people represent me, so who should I ask to help me answer my question? The children aren’t going to know anything,” I decided, “perhaps I should ask one of the adults. But who?” I scanned the room checking out the ten or so teachers as to the best candidate. No one seemed to notice me as they continued to converse amongst themselves. I reached the furthest corner and began walking behind the first row of tables at the front entrance toward the first set of double doors.
That’s when I noticed her. No, it wasn’t the female guide who lost patience with me. It was the homeless woman in the alleyway who said she was a witch and didn’t want my help. She didn’t look homeless now. Maybe that’s what the note meant. Maybe even the adults are students. I decided to choose her to ask my questions. There had to be some connection here.
“Pardon me.” I tapped the elderly curly pepper haired lady on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you a minute, over there?” I pointed to a quiet spot over by the front doors.
“Uh, certainly.” She seemed confused. She stood and walked with me.
“This will only take a second.” I assured her.
“I don’t know how I can help you.” The lady seemed very anxious. “I don’t know anything.”
“Yes, you do.” I answered. “We’ve seen each other before.”
“No, I don’t know you.” She defended. “Maybe you should ask someone else.”
“It’s you that I want to talk to.” I insisted. I reached a table flushed against the wall between the first set and second set of doors. It must have been for refreshments but was empty, so I sat on top of it.
“I really don’t know anything.” The lady repeated worriedly. “I want to go sit back down now. I don’t feel good.” She looked back at her seat ready to scurry.
“Look, all I have is one question for you,” and before she could come up with a rebuttal I added, “and as soon as you’ve answered it, I will leave you alone, and find someone else to answer the rest of my questions.” I was already thinking perhaps I should ask a child. Maybe the note meant I shouldn’t automatically assume the adults had the answers, after all, a child can be very spiritually attuned. There were more of them to delay me as I wondered who the right one was to ask.
“Well, okay,” she hesitantly agreed. “What’s your question?”
“We met at the beginning of the dream in an alleyway in front of an abandoned warehouse. I tried to help you defend yourself against two men. My question is, why were you afraid of me and think I was also out to hurt you?”
“You came out of nowhere and surprised me. What was I suppose to think?” she replied.
“But I told you I was on your side and you asked me, ‘What, you don’t think I can defend myself?’” I reminded her. “Why were you so defensive against me? Why are you so defensive now?” I noticed her trembling.
“It is because she does not know who she is.” A male voice behind me to my left responded. I know that voice. I turned. It was the Director, the kind gentleman who started my tour. Once again I immediately felt at ease and comforted. I had forgotten how handsome he looked. Was the female guide here too? I glanced around, but did not see her anywhere. I looked at the clock on the wall to my right; I had four minutes left.
Chapter Six
“Do not be alarmed.” The Director spoke to the elderly woman. “She’s not trying to frighten you. She’s hoping you can help her.”
“Please,” the woman fell to her knees, “I already told her, I don’t know anything. I can’t help you, please let me go.”
“Why does she act as if I’m haunting her?” I asked the gentleman guide.
“Because she is very fragile.” He answered me not taking his eyes off of the frantic woman. “She can’t seem to access her own thoughts and this distresses her. Let me see if I can help her.” Then to the frightened lady he gently asked, “Do you know who you are?”
“Yes, I think so.” The woman quietly spoke.
“Do you know where you are?” He continued.
“Yes. I came here not too long ago, and this place is helping me figure some things out.”
“Do you remember me?” He showered her with his energy of warmth and support.
“No. I don’t think I met you.” She started trembling again.
“Actually we have. Do you want to know who I am?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” Then with increasing distress she cried, “Uh, no. Don’t tell me.”
“It’s all right, “he cooed, “You can handle the answer.”
“I want to go now.” She begged. “I don’t like where this is going.”
The Director smiled at her with empathy. For a second the once homeless woman looked my way as if to plead for my help, but then quickly remembered she was frightened of me too.
The seconds ticked away and I knew I was close to an answer. I might not be able to seek out my female guide afterwards, but I could at least get this part of the lesson. I felt more at ease with the Director anyway.
“I’ll help you through this.” The gentleman guide comforted the woman, but also seemed as if he answered my thought. “The reason Amie asked for your help is because she is you and you are her.”
That’s right! I thought, listening. This statement did not seem to console the woman, however.
“You are of the same mind. Amie can help you. Notice how calm she is. Take that in. She is you and you are her.” He repeated.
The more I evaluated what the Director said I wondered, since she is a part of me that means I already knew why she was afraid. But she was afraid of me, which meant I was afraid of myself, for some reason. Why was I afraid of myself? As I processed this the guide kept speaking to the woman. “You are in her. She is in you.”
The timid woman was trying to grasp what he was saying, “I am her,” while I was also contemplating the reverse, she is me.
“Wait a minute,” the woman got up off of her knees thinking a little clearer and less afraid, “If I am her and she is me, then who are you?”
The Director smiled, “I am that I am in you.”
“What?” We both asked simultaneously, she out loud, me in my thoughts.
“How can I be both of you?” The elderly lady asked skeptically.
I stared at him silently refusing his answer. You’re my guide. There’s no way we are the same. You came from some place else to teach me.
“I am that I am in you.” The Director repeated again not once looking at me.
“I am you?” She asked hesitantly.
“And you are me.” The guide replied.
“I am you…” The woman stated again trying to wrap her head around what he was saying.
“And you are me.” He finished her sentence with intention.
“That can’t be!” I screamed aloud. “She is me. She can’t be you. She is in me and I am in her. We are the same because we are of the same mind. She can’t be you!”
“I am in you.” The Director kept saying. “I am in you. I am . . . you.”
“But you’re my guide. You represent Spirit. You represent God. If she is me and I am her, and she is you and you are her, then that means that you are me and I am --“
--Gasp!--
I inhaled sharply with the dawning of the answer as I sat up in bed with shock.