One Walker Blog

If you'd like to have your own blog here, start yourself a thread. Use your member name somewhere in the title so people will know who you are. The blogs here should be mostly about your spiritual path and beliefs.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Thanks, Silver Dove! Yours was a welcomed comment in a sea of otherwise dead silence on the story.

Yes, there are lots of reasons why people reject family. Sooner or later the reasons will be revealed though. All you can do in the meantime is just send him Positive Intent and be open-minded to what he has to say when he decides to say it.

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
[Silver Dove]
Posts: 137
Joined: Mon Sep 29, 2008 8:03 am
Gender: Female

Hello OW

Post by [Silver Dove] »

Hi OW,

It's been a long time eh? Life has been very busy on my end. I am hoping all is well in your world. I see you haven't been bloging much...I guess you are busy as well. I miss our "talks" and your stories .Now that I work in the city I get to see my brother all the time. I spent a weekend at his place too. In one of our conversations he revealed to me that I am his keeper....I think it was a compliment, atleast that is the way I look at it. I think we are starting to connect again...
Well I thought I 'd give you an update since this was the last thing we talked about on your blog.
I love your stories & writings.
Keep in touch my friend and keep blogging.
May love, peace & hope always be with you. Blessed Be!

Silver Dove
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Hi Silver Dove!

Good to hear from you and thanks for posting here! I guess we've both been lax in our posting as of late, eh? I'm glad you dropped a line though because it HAS inspired me to get back in here and do something constructive. I'm glad to hear you and your brother have connected. That's a real Blessing! And Now For Something Completely Different... :lol:

I was burning the last of my CD's to hard drive the other day and came across Harry Chapin's Gold Medal Collection that was released in 1988. Not many of you younger people may know him but Harry Chapin was a Folk singer who attained sporadic but dedicated popularity from time to time with radio hits like "Taxi" and Cat's In The Cradle". He had many other terrific songs (including a sequel to "Taxi". WOW!) but they didn't get much, if any, air time due to their extended lengths. Sadly enough, Harry Chapin passed from us due to a heart attack in 1981 but still maintains a dedicated following to this day. What I want to relate is the gist of a story he told on that album. Basically it was this:

There are two kinds of Tired. Good Tired and Bad Tired. Ironically enough, Bad Tired can be from a day that you actually won. BUT. You won other people's battles, lived other people's days, other people's agendas, other people's dreams, and so when the day was all over there was very little 'You' in there. When you hit the hay at night somehow you just end up tossing and turning and don't Settle Easy, if you know what I mean.

On the other hand, Good Tired can come from a day that you lost! BUT. You fought your battles, chased your dreams, lived your day, and when you hit the hay at night you Settle Easy; you sleep the sleep of The Just; and you can say: Take Me Away.

I lost today. I ventured into a new part of The Wild that I'd only visited briefly twice before. I knew I would find some trash in this area so I came well prepared.

I packed out 75 gallons of trash in 2 1/2 hours.

I didn't even put a dent in the mess that's out there. Finally I had to give it up because my back simply wouldn't stand the strain anymore. But you know what? I'm Good Tired. Today I fought MY battle, chased MY dream, and lived the way I wanted to live. I'm going to Settle Easy when I hit the hay tonight and if The Elements see fit to take me back to themselves during the night then So Be It. I lost today and I'm happy. I was Blessed with absolutely gorgeous weather and was privileged to see many wondrous sights. I took a bunch of photos too and if I'm still here tomorrow I'll work on getting them posted on the forum. Then I'll probably go back out there and continue MY battle tomorrow! Because my battle, my dream, my Life Desire is to be of service to others and The Creative Forces.

That may sound idealistic and perhaps you're right. I believe everyone should have an Ideal for their lives. From where else will you find the foundation with which to build a rewarding and productive Life? A job? A beautiful body? Some other person? A specific philosophy or belief system? As a whole, all those things have been historically shown to fail, not because they were wrong necessarily but rather because they were generalities and thus poorly equipped to address your specific Needs. For myself, I want my life to be represented more by what I did and how I conducted myself than how much money or material things I accumulated over the span of a lifetime, nor would I want to be known for my good looks (if I had any! LOL!).

I'll give you an example of what I mean. Many decades ago I was a Summer Camp Counselor for kids between 6 and 12 (sometimes I wonder if I should ask for a job on the forums but I digress... LOL). I loved those kids dearly and they let me know they thought very highly of me as well. We had a lot of fun and learned a lot of things. But was that a lasting thing or a fleeting thing? In my mind it was a lasting thing. With these many years now past those kids won't remember my name or even those specific days but they will remember the feeling of those days. That warm but unsubstantial memory we ALL have of certain times in our distant past. Those memories that remind us that there was, and hence can be, some pure, wholesome Good in our lives. If there was once then there can be again. It brings Strength and Hope to ourselves and through us to others. So it becomes Being of Service to Others.

In my mind that's not a bad Ideal. If I should be Taken Away tonight; stripped of my physical body and all my earthy possessions; and stand before the Akashic Records and Judge myself through that one critical question: Is THAT the best you could do? I would have to say No. BUT. I did do something Positive and at least that's moving in the right direction. I'll know I had a positive effect on other lives. I'll also know that on some future umpteenth incarnation I'll finally get it All Right and so won't be quite so disappointed with my performance in this lifetime.

And who's to say how long your lifetime is? There's no set time you know. People of all ages pass to The Borderland all the time. No one is immune or invulnerable. In fact, it's necessary for continued growth. But remember this: The greatest grief of Passing is the regret of not having said all you have meant to say and do all that you meant to do. This holds true and has been expressed innumerable times by both people who have Passed and then returned and also by those who mourned the passing of another. It seems curious that that should be the case, doesn't it? And why should it be so?

Maybe because most of us spend our days winning other people's battles, living other people's days, other people's agendas, other people's dreams...

One Walker.
:D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Friday, July 31, 2009

It's been awhile since I've posted in my blog and; while there's much on which I could comment on; I felt it was time for a rather funny story. I was reading in the Weird Stories section of the forum today about someone who had an encounter with what sounds like a Guardian Angel and it reminded me of my own. Here then is the true story I originally wrote many years ago about my first encounter with my own Guardian Angel:

Luke The Spook

There’s been a growing interest lately regarding the existence and purpose of angels. Television specials on the subject are popping up all over the place but they all seem to be interviewing the same people. Some little old lady invariably bursts into tears as she describes how an angel kept her from blundering down a hotel elevator shaft while she was sleep-walking through the halls in the dead of night.

I can’t help but laugh.

It’s not that I don’t believe her story; it’s just that I happen to be intimately familiar with guardian angels and the ones I've met are more likely to keep people from getting off an elevator than getting on. Another thing is; there seems to be this universal conception of angels being beautiful females with wings. Well, that makes for a pretty good boost in TV ratings among male viewers—after all; what man wouldn’t want to be held in constant attendance by a beautiful woman—but I’m convinced The Is has instituted a more practical, personalized method of assigning celestial spirits to individuals. Take mine for instance. He’s male in gender; no doubt about it; and while he’s a benevolent chap overall I’m more apt to detect his presence through some mischief on his part than from him saving my life. Our first encounter is a prime example…

I was sitting at the security desk located in one of the office buildings my partner Todd Norton and I were assigned to patrol when my radio crackled to life:

“Hey, buddy! Get over to the PD3 building right away. We’ve got a problem.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Better that you see this for yourself. Just get over here.”

I hated when he said things like that. We had a history of incidents that started out in just such a fashion. Usually the calls fell into one of two categories: Either they turned out to be substantially less than nothing or we ended up with ringside seats to The Apocalypse. You can bet I took my time getting over there and sure enough; there I found him standing inside an open elevator without a hint of trouble in sight.

“So what’s going on?” I asked.
“The elevator won’t let me go up.”

I blinked. I stared at him dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe it. Todd may have been eight cans short of a six-pack, but even he wasn’t that dumb.

“You called me over here for that!?” I asked incredulously, “Why didn’t you just put a sign on it and use the stairs!?”
“No, you don’t understand. I can’t get out of the elevator.”
“What are you talking about!? Just step out!”
“No way . . .”

Just then the elevator doors started to close. They shut about half way before slamming back open-as if someone tried to step through at the last minute and hit the push-bar. I looked at my partner.

“What’d you do to that thing!”
“Nothing! I swear! I just stepped in and pushed the floor button! The door started to close and then it slammed back open, just like it did now!”
“Well, shoot!” I snorted as I moved closer, “Lemme take a look at it. Is the door hitting something in the track?”
“No,” Todd retorted as I bent to examine the frame, “That’s the first thing I checked.”
“Then what’s the deal here? Did something short out? You smell anything electrical burning?”
“Nope.”
“Did you try pulling the emergency button in and out?”
“Yup. No luck.”
“Nuts. Well, all we can do is put a sign on the wall next to it and write it up. C’mon outta there and just use the stairs.”
“No way. I’m not going through that door.”
“Whattaya mean?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I have tried to step out! Every time I do, the door starts to close. It’s like something wants me to stay in here.”

Just then the door started to close again. Like before, it slammed back open when it reached the half-way point. I stared at the door for a moment, then switched my gaze back to him. He gave me a ‘See? I told you so!’ look laced with a nervous unease.

“Something has to be making the door do that,” he continued, “With my luck it’ll shut right when I’m walking through and cut me in half.”
“Wait a minute. Are you talking about a ghost or something?”
“Well, how do you explain it? If you don’t believe me, just step through the door and see for yourself!”

So I did.

Sure enough, the door didn’t even budge. I gave him a scathing look.
“See!” I scolded him, “Man, you’ve been watching too much of The Night Stalker. That stuff’ll go to your head. You gotta get it together dude, ‘cause I’m not gonna come running every time you get spooked!”
Todd just gave me an expectant look; folded his arms, and said: “Now try to leave.”
I stepped toward the doorway and, sure enough, the elevator door started to close. I jumped back just as it slammed back into the silo with a force that shook the whole car.
“Great!” Todd snipped at me sarcastically, “Now we’re both trapped!” I turned around and gave him a scathing look.
“I don’t want to hear it!”

I turned away again and stared morosely at the empty hallway. I don’t mind telling you I felt like a complete idiot. Here we were; two grown men standing in an open elevator and afraid to step out. It was a good thing nobody was there to see us or we’d have been the laughingstocks of the office park. I felt utterly humiliated and not a little bit unnerved—as if we’d been caught up in some macabre cross-over between Candid Camera and The Twilight Zone. I half expected Rod Serling to lean around the corner holding Allen Funt’s head and laughing hysterically while he hit us with the punch line: ‘Smile, you’re in The Zone…’

Then I paused for a moment. This did feel like a practical joke. Todd and I were both pranksters of long-standing but something like this was way beyond our expertise. On the other hand, I had a hunch it was right up somebody else’s alley…

“Luke!” I snapped, glaring out at the hallway, “We haven’t got time for this nonsense!”
“Luke?” Todd repeated tentatively, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Luke,” I snarled; shooting a glance over my shoulder to make sure he knew I wasn’t kidding, “Luke The Spook.”

Todd face drooped in horror. His expression had Certain Doom written all over it. He was trapped in an elevator with a madman. I turned back to the doorway...

“Luke! Stop screwing around! We’ve got rounds to make and not a lot of time to do ‘em in so either get in or get out!”

The door shut all the way this time and the elevator started its humming ascent to the upper floors. Todd’s lips and eyes nearly fell off.

“How did you . . .”
“Well, you said it was some thing. If it was a spook it wasn’t a mean one—It could’ve had its way with you once you stepped in here—so I figured it was just playing around.”
“But Luke? Why Luke?”
“It rhymes with Spook.”
Todd started to chuckle. “Luke The Spook, eh?” He was beginning to get the picture. The door opened on the top floor. I stayed by the elevator and held the floor button while Todd made his round. When he got back I let him get in first.
“Let’s hope you’re right about Luke just joking around or this is gonna be one short trip to the bottom of the shaft!”
I let go of the button and jumped in the elevator after him. We both waited breathlessly for the inevitable snap of the cable followed by a screaming plunge to the bottom four stories below.

Nothing happened.

Todd and I exchanged wary glances. No mother ever touched her newborn as tenderly as Todd pushed the button for the bottom floor. After a long second the door started to close. We breathed a sigh of relief—too soon. Just as the door was about to shut completely it slammed back open again. Todd and I looked at each other. This time I left it up to Todd:

“Luke! Quit clowning around!” he scolded, “I’m already an hour behind schedule and you're not the one who’s gonna catch it when the boss finds out! Now either get in or get out but make up your mind!”
“Yeah, man!” I added, “Why don’t you go bug Elvis or something?”
The door closed. Todd gave me a questioning look.
“Did he get in or out?”

There was a short whine of gears as the elevator started a slow descent to the first floor. Then the sound of Elvis crooning out Blue Christmas came over the elevator speaker. Todd’s face paled as his body turned into a two hundred pound goose-pimple. I just smiled.

From then on Luke became our third man on duty. It was comforting to know we were never truly alone when out walking the miles of rounds we did each night. He did a good job of keeping us on our toes too. As it turned out, he had a whole repertoire of annoying ways to irritate us. There was the usual slamming of doors behind us and the sound of footsteps running up and down the stairwell when we knew very well there wasn’t anyone else in the building. Showing us glimpses of his reflection in window panes was always good for giving us a heart attack; or having doorknobs fall off in our hands just before all the lights went out. One of his best gags was to wait until we were in the middle of four hundred acres of parking lot before shutting off all the lights. Nothing grabs your attention like being caught out in the open in total, sudden darkness.

At first I thought Luke was attached to the office complex itself in some way but over the years I discovered that wherever I went he followed. Has he ever saved my life? It’s hard to say. Maybe dozens of times and maybe never. I’m still here though, despite a history of car crashes, fires; floods, attacks by giant, mutant rabbits; industrial accidents, earthquakes; hurricanes, tornadoes; riots, shootings; bombings, an amorous bull moose; and Todd.

So who knows?

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

August 3, 2009

I wasn't in a particularly joyful mood today after blowing gobs of hard-to-come-by money on end-of-month bills. I needed to get back to my sources so I popped out into The Wild. Wow! What a great time I had! I got back in touch with some of the trees I've been missing lately and was pleased to find most of the doing very well despite the dry conditions. We had a drought last year that had them hurting so I had implored them to seek deeper water with their roots. It looks like it's still paying off! They were all pleased to see me again and gave me warm receptions. There are a few however that are hurting or a bit unhappy so I'll be going back there tomorrow to see if I can render some aid.

It was a fabulous day outside. The temperature was just right and the occasional Blessing Wind that came up soothed and cooled me down better than a meditation session. I even managed to pick up a bag and a half of trash! I was smiling and happy again. Then it got even better! I had made plans with a neighbor friend to go fishing tonight but he called me while I was out in The Wild and scrubbed that in favor of a BBQ at his place! Steak, Potatoes, Corn on the Cob, Burgers, Hot Dogs, and Watermelon. We finished the evening off with several great games of Volleyball.

For a day that started out none-too-cool it turned out terrific! It's hard to describe-this wonderful feeling where every day is filled with Blessings like this. Just getting outside does a world of good but when you also communion with the creatures of the earth, The Elements, and The Creative Forces it just keeps getting better and better. I wish I could show and share this place with others.

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
NightRose
Banned Member
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Location: Michigan

Post by NightRose »

I finally took the time to stop and read through your blog entries. And I wanted you to know that your section about your brother was very touching. One of the hardest things to do, especially with people you love, is to step back and look at it from the other side. I am glad that you were blessed enough to realize his point of view and were able to reach out to him before it was too late.

And thank you for sharing. It's one thing to say "I was wrong, I overreacted and snapped." It is quite another to post it online for people to read and judge. I'm sure your mother is quite proud of both the amazing boys she raised.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Thanks, NightRose! I'm glad it touched you enough to comment. Yes, it is tough to not only face the past but also set it aside. We are our own kindest and toughest judges. What then does it matter how other people judge you? Maybe that's why so many people find it tough to forgive sins or wrongs of the past. But if we cannot forgive, or at least set aside the issues we've had with others, then how can we truthfully, honestly do it with ourselves? And, if we can't do that, how will we ever be truly happy? No magical incantation or entity can do that for you-although they can help you help yourself. It is one of those things you can only do for yourself. No one else can make you happy, nor can you find true happiness wholly in someone else. That's just an excuse to avoid facing or dealing with your own issues. No, happiness has to originate with you. Otherwise the house that is your Life is being built with a deck of cards.

So where am I at with all this 14 years later?

There's a lot of talk on the forum about what happens after death, life after death, karma, reincarnation, and the Christian concepts of Judgment. For myself, I believe the judgment we face is none other than our own. We go before The Akashic Records and are shown every detail of our last session on the physical plane. In essence we are forced to face ourselves with all the veneer, excuses, and earthly justifications stripped away. We are shown not only our acts while we inhabited the physical plane but the results of those acts. This is done for the purpose of answering one question: "Is this the best we could do?" Curiously enough my brother, until the day he died, kept asking "Why is this happening to me?" Perhaps it was karma from some past life. Perhaps it was instant karma. I don't know-other than that it was karma.

People may wonder how I feel about homosexuals in light of my experience with my brother. Let me say right here and for the record that, while I have no desire to be one, I don't hate them or think they are 'wrong' or 'freaks' or anything. Here's what I believe: Homosexuality has been around nearly as long as humans have inhabited the earth. As entities wishing to inhabit human bodies we are neither Male nor Female. The concept laid out in Genesis that the two genders were created for companionship makes sense to me. How boring would this world and existence be if humans were all male or all female? Pretty boring. So this way you have a diversity of viewpoints. Through this system you are also given the means to not only explore Love but also learn to Love yourself! This idea is supported by the reported evidence of past-life incarnations as someone of the opposite gender.

If the reports or circumstantial evidence holds true that we choose our parents then it also makes sense that we choose our gender. This is probably conditional on what issue or issues we wish to address in our coming experience on the physical plane. No doubt some issues are best approached in the body or perspective of a Male while others in the body of a Female. But sometimes there's a 'misfire'. Say an entity desperately wants to come into being at the hands of a specific set of parents or environment but the child growing in the woman's womb is of the opposite gender from what would otherwise have been ideal. So you get a male-oriented entity entering the physical plane in the body of a female or vice-versa. Or, in eagerness to enter the physical plane, an entity may jump in to any baby that happens to be readily available at the time regardless of its gender (Keep in mind that entities not on the physical plane still keep the personality and soul they always had. They are not 'perfect' or 'all-knowing'.) Or an entity may not properly or fully consider the best choice in gender to complete their current task. That's just a few of the possibilities but you get the idea.

So you get souls that had oriented themselves to one gender for the purposes to be met in this lifetime inhabiting bodies of the opposite gender. Nobody's 'fault' and nothing 'wrong' with it in a moral sense; just somewhat confusing, not only to the homosexual but to the heterosexuals as well, because the entity is emitting crossed signals. This is little more than the issue similar to looking at a newborn baby wrapped in cloth and asking "What is it? A boy or a girl?"

Unfortunately, my brother chose rape as a means of expressing his desires but this had nothing to do with his gender-for what was his gender as a homosexual? A female in a male body? No, rape is genderless. Rape is the obtainment of physical or emotional pleasure from another human being through means of force, collusion, or deceit. Do I feel bad today that I beat my brother those many years ago? No. There was no other recourse at the time. Would I take the same action today? You bet-with either gender.

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Thursday, August 27, 2009. 10:19 PM

A really good day today! My Property Tax Refund check came in the mail last week and there was a little bit left over after paying the bills. It's been awhile since I went to any kind of social function involving more than one or two other people-those being fellow fishermen. After a while under circumstances like that you tend to develop reclusive, hermit-like tendencies. The Minnesota State Fair opened today and, it being a Thursday plus a $2 discount on admission, I decided to pay it a visit. I normally go every year but last year I was working-and working overtime at that-so I wasn't able to attend. Not that big a deal since I didn't have anybody to go with anyway. Still, I've gone alone many times. What keeps bringing me back to a place that hardly changes year after year? That's a little difficult to put into words but I'll try.

Part of the magic is that it doesn't change a great deal from year to year. The Minnesota State Fair has been around since 1859 (since 1885 at its current location). It is the third largest in the United States behind Iowa and Texas, and the second largest by daily attendance during its 12 day run (over 100,000 per day. About 1.5 million per year-or 34% of the total state population.). This year the grandstand celebrates its 100th birthday. There are rides there that were built in the early 1900's that are still operating. So what's the draw that makes people come back year after year "to the same old thing"?

I think its because it represents stability. In a world where everything changes; sometimes minute-to-minute; and everything or everyone travels at breakneck speed; The Fair never changes. It's like old friends that remain as you've always remembered them. It's a trip down the Memory Lane of good memories. There are 5 church diners on the grounds. One or two have been in operation since 1897; the rest since the 1940's. The food is good but relatively simple. The prices are on the cheaper side as state fair prices go but these places operate year after year and have a large, dedicated following. That's tradition, not religious zealotry. That same tendency towards tradition holds true for most of the other establishments on the grounds. It's traditional to visit the livestock barns, the Midway, the 4-H buildings, the Bazaar, The Horticulture Building, and so on. And, it's an instinct of tradition that has been adopted by every generation. Today's young people have their favorite booth for Cheese Curds, Fries, Onions, Cookies, Taffy, etc. They also can be found visiting the same 'boring' buildings that their parents dragged them through as children! Why? Because it's stable. In young lives where everything changes so radically in the transition from school teen to working adult this represents a grasp on the past.

Is there anything wrong with that? I don't think so!

But how does that affect me? The same as everyone else. My first stop today was The Coliseum, where all the livestock shows are held. I have an interest in seeing the blinding diversity of livestock displayed at the Fair but that's not why I go to the Coliseum. There's a pretty good stone and crystal dealer who has a booth there and I'm on pretty good terms with him. And yes, he remembers me despite seeing hundreds of thousands of people just at this one Fair year after year.

After that I bopped through all the livestock buildings as planned, then started-in true Minnesota tradition-to gorge myself on food. Bill Cosby once said: "Americans can eat anything on the face of this Earth as long as they have two pieces of bread". In Minnesota, all we need is a stick. You can laugh at us and our wacky ways but I guarantee you; once you're there and smell the smells and see the blinding diversity of foods offered you'll find yourself salivating. Before long you'll find yourself in possession of a stick upon which is mounted some form of broiled, fried, frozen, or raw consumable!

This grazing was interspersed with ventures through may of the other buildings I traditionally visit each year. Before long night had fallen and I found myself growing foot-sore and pleasantly melancholy. I grabbed a jumbo glass of 1919 Root Beer (another tradition) and plopped my newly-purchased Duluth Pack on a bench to give my back a rest from breaking it in (if my job prospects don't improve soon I'll find real use for this great pack-to hold my remaining worldly possessions as I wander off into The Wild.). Nighttime is great at the Fair; and not just because of all the pretty lights. This is a 'people-watching' time for me. People are tired and slowing down after a full day of Fair events. But they're wonderfully happy-most of them.

Two police officers sit across from me. One is a grizzled old male about 65 years of age. His partner is a young female of about 25. Both of them are cradling and steadily working on giant baskets of Chili-Cheese Fries as they rest their tired feet.

There are two pairs of middle-aged couples standing and chatting off to one side. A small black girl of about 6 years old is twirling around and through the two white couples; totally caught up in the wondrous day and now this wonderland of lights, noise, music, and people. She's in Heaven. Her giant grandmother is sitting a few feet away from me watching her granddaughter with a cocked eyebrow but an underlying expression of Joy and Love. The granddaughter suddenly comes back to Earth from whatever wonderland her imagination had placed her and quickly realizes that she doesn't recognize any of the people around her. She immediately calms down and looks uncertainly around her as everyone in the area looks back at her and smiles. Then she spots her Grandmother and heads towards her, but not before stopping to say 'Hi' to a little white girl sitting next to her mother-both of whom are sitting next to me. We all laugh in friendship and, as I look at the beaming, loving face of the Grandmother as her granddaughter nuzzles up to her I think:

We sure have come a ways since 1865. In fact, we've come a long way since 1965! Maybe things aren't as good as they should be but right now-at this moment-things are a lot better than either I or that Grandmother imagined it would be.

The young female police officer gets up to grab dessert-a Homemade Salted Nut Roll-and asks her partner if he wants one. He declines, still working on his fries.

As if The Elements were reading my mind, an Asian family comes by; looking more awed than bewildered at all that is going on around them. Offhandedly I wonder what our situation will be with them, and the Mexicans, and Middle-Easterners, and so on in one hundred years. I won't be here to see it so it hardly matters but I can't help but observe that they are not afraid. They are awed by what they see around them. It's so different from where they came from. In their mannerisms and expressions I seem to detect that this is a much better place. They are comfortable here-right now-and happy-or at least their children are judging by their expressions and excitement. I think the parents though would fight, physically, not to go back to their homeland-except perhaps on some far-off day to free it for their people as a whole. Or at least change it in a drastic way. Again, a wonderland.

More people pass and yet again I notice what I've observed there year after year for more years than I can count. There seem to be an inordinate number of couples of all ages holding hands. This is not something you see very often in public anymore-people not afraid, or ashamed, or even feeling like holding hands. One of them is a classic middle-aged couple that walk by me, the parents out in front and holding hands while the two children; 8 to 10 years old; bounce happily along behind them. That's something else I've noticed about the Fair. You see an inordinate number of complete families there. Husband, Wife, Kids. The complete package. Or should I call it the traditional package? In any event, it still appears to exist out there. For some reason they seem to congregate at the Fair. In fact, we all seem to congregate at the Fair. Perhaps that's why we call it The Great Minnesota Get-Together!

I'm going back there next Saturday. You can't see all of the Fair in one day anyway. Besides, I've got a ticket for a triple-header concert at The Grandstand that night ($34 for center, mid-way seating! Eat your hearts out suckers!). REO Speedwagon, Styx, and 38 Special (Bonny Raitt and Kid Rock played at the Grandstand tonight. How or why they decided to match those two up I don't quite understand but there it is. Symptoms of a lost or confused generation? Who knows?) I'll probably bring my camera for the next visit so maybe I can post some pictures here in the future. We'll see.

Yeah, I'm going alone. Curious to me: Every girlfriend I've ever had that I went to the Fair with had a wonderful time but the relationship ended before the year was out. How's that for odd? No more going to the Fair with women! Maybe not even if we were married. Then we'd probably end up divorced before the year was out!

And you wonder why I'm One Walker? :lol:
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

November 1, 2009

Okay, so the new job has kept me busy but still... I didn't mean to go this long without getting something into my Blog here. We've had just a ton of rain up here in the northland these past few weeks; and while I'm glad it wasn't snow I kind of wish it had been spread out more over the summer because it was quite dry here. Ah well, a good soaking just before the ground freezes will make for a healthy Spring next year. Besides, The Divine knows what it's doing so I'll put my trust in that!

Work has been okay, just busy. I'm picking parts and most of them seem to be on the lowest shelves so I've been up-and-down a lot. That's a little tough on a big, old bod like mine! :lol: I have some pretty nice co-workers though so that makes it easier to take since we're all in it together. We help each other out. Lots of diversity in the cultural backgrounds of the people too and so it makes it that much more of a pleasant and positive atmosphere. Always, always we find we are more alike than we thought.

Most of my spare time I've spent reading up some more on Runes (since the subject came up on the forums), the Akashic Records, Life After Life, and the Kensington Rune Stone. Fascinating stuff!

So, do you want to hear a spooky story? I meant to post it here before Halloween but never got around to it. I always thought someone could write a best seller of spooky stories just from interviewing security guards (my past profession). I think they're the people who really get the most close encounters with entities! What follows here is a true story from back in the early 1980's. I wrote it many years ago and put it in the form of a short story. The names have been changed. It's called The Light of The Hand. Hope you enjoy it! :shock:

There was a time when monsters and ghosts held quite a fascination for me. Not the mythology or legend behind them but what they represented to the human psyche. What part of our nature, or possibly even our evolution, would cause things like that to emerge? Why are we obsessed with facing, confronting, or even make light of the things which frighten us the most or we don’t understand? Why must we put a face or a name to it? Is it to make it more manageable or simply more tangible? Maybe it’s all part of the dangerous, thrill-seeking addiction that is inside each and every one of us in one form or another.

Frankly, I’ve long since come to the point where I readily admit I don’t know and I don’t care. I got over that phase in 1981; right about the time Darrin McGavin showed up. Some joker down at one of the local TV stations was weighing ratings versus time-slots and suffered a collective attack of Cranial Rectosis. The result was the placement of McGavin’s show, The Night Stalker, into a 10PM time slot. The consequences were massive and immediate; the first of which was the instant development of a cult following which survives to this day. The second was a parental outcry the likes of which hadn’t been seen since some fool let a guy named Wells near a radio station microphone. The ensuing nightmares suffered by children watching this show kept parents up all night long. (Don’t believe me? Check out the episode with the headless, saber-wielding motorcycle rider—then take a nice, lonely walk down a country road at night.)

Aside from that, my partner and I were contending with our own set of macabre circumstances at work. There was a giant, horror-movie, mutant-sized rabbit scampering about the office complex at night chasing cars, biting tires, chasing us, leaping out of bushes, and caving in the chests of unsuspecting serial killers roaming the buildings. Two big, snow-white, mongrel dogs were making life miserable for my partner as well by chasing him around the parking lots. Our very own Night Stalker—Luke The Spook—was putting us through changes that made McGavin’s show seem like a comedy in comparison.

It was weird and spooky sure enough; but my life was like that back then. Plenty of warning but not enough common sense to see it coming and get out of the way. I tended to take most events in stride. People who spend any length of time in my line of work usually experience a host of events best left out of official reports or newscasts. Most of the time they’re pretty funny.

Sometimes they’re not.

And sometimes you run across an incident that is not only officially denied by the authorities but gets stricken from any other record as well. The only records in those cases are the memories of those involved…


It was 11PM and I was about to go off-duty when Captain Pages arrived. He was an easy-going, unpretentious giant with a quick wit and a gift for both pranks and pragmatism which made him an ideal supervisor. We’d known each other for several months and were well on the way to becoming good friends so it was with some alarm that I noticed the stern expression on his face as he approached me.

“You about done here?” he asked. No greeting. No questions on how the shift had gone. Something had happened that was bad enough to rattle my normally imperturbable supervisor.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I need you to come with me. There’s some business we’ve gotta take care of.”
“Business? Like what?”
“I’ll explain on the way.” With that he turned and headed for the door. I looked at my partner; shrugged; gathered up my belongings and gave him a ‘Catch-You-Later’ look over my shoulder as I jogged after the captain. His car was running when I got there. Before I could completely close the door we were heading out of the parking lot.

“Okay, so what’s the rush?” I asked.
“We’ve got an officer in trouble. I got a call from the answering service. They got a call from the police. Apparently our guy’s been dialing 911 but they can’t understand him. He’s hysterical. Babbling. Keeps carrying on. They can’t make heads or tails out of it and eventually he hangs up, then calls back in a little while. We’re going to check it out.”
“I don’t get it. Sounds like a medical to me. The guy’s cracking up. A nervous breakdown or something. Why didn’t the cops respond?”
“They did. They said they couldn’t find him and couldn’t see anything wrong with the place so they left. They’re calling it G.O.A. ‘Gone On Arrival.’”
“Wait a minute. 911 must’ve confirmed the number and location he was calling from. He had to be there.”
“He is there. He’s called back four times but he keeps hanging up. That’s why the cops finally called the answering service and that’s why the answering service called me. They’re getting tired of this guy and want us to handle it ASAP.”
“He’s called four times?! How long has this been going on?”
“All night. The first call came in around 8 o’clock.”
“Three hours and they’re just now getting to us?! What about the Fire Department or Paramedics? Have they tried to get to him?”
“Nobody's called them yet. The cops don’t want to tie up Emergency Services until they know what the situation is.”
“WHAT! You mean this guy’s been stuck out there all this time and nobody wants to go get him?! What’s with that?!”
“That’s what you and I are going to find out. This whole thing just doesn’t sound right. That’s why I came to pick you up. Something here doesn’t add up. Have you ever been to The Mansion?”
“I’ve worked at their headquarters building a few times but not the house.”
“It’s just West of the HQ. Big place. Old, but fully modernized. It’s been in the family for generations. Nobody lives there now. They use it for entertaining and as a temporary residence for special guests. More security cameras, systems, and alarms than you can shake a stick at; and top-of-the-line stuff at that. Stay close when we get out there. Don’t touch anything and don’t go anywhere I don’t tell you to go first.”
“No problem.”

Pages was being no-nonsense and all business—perhaps for the first time since I’d known him—so I decided not to press him for more information. Answers would come soon enough. We turned left off the county road we’d been traveling and started making our way up a paved driveway through a stand of tall pine trees. A minute or so of gentle S-turns brought us to an immense lawn stretching a hundred yards in every direction from a huge house. Outside lights were on in a few spots around the building but for the most part they remained obscured by a perimeter of perfectly landscaped trees, bushes, and gardens. The road we were on was the only one going up to the house and there was a drop-arm security gate half-way up it. We pulled to a stop in front of it and as Pages punched in an access code I noted the camera situated on a post nearby and more in the trees up ahead.
“You weren’t kidding about the cameras.” I remarked with some awe.
“They’ve got good reason for ‘em. There’s artifacts in that mansion that most museums would give their eyeteeth for. Just remember what I said,” he finished as we pulled up to the main entrance. I got out to check out the surroundings.

The driveway ended in a cul-de-sac in front of the main doors with a small parking lot reserved for visitors off to the side. Purposeful and decorative lighting dotted the area, and I took in several more cameras hidden among the foliage. I also caught the slight rise of a pressure-sensitive pad underneath the all-weather carpet as we walked up to the main entrance and raised an appreciative eyebrow to my companion. Not many clients took their security that seriously. Neither of us saw anything out of the ordinary and there was no noise at all. To my surprise, Pages didn’t knock or use a key or passcard to open the door. He simply rang the buzzer. An uneasy feeling began to creep over me as seconds dragged into minutes without a response. I shot the captain a questioning glance but he paid no attention as he stepped to the side of the door. Wordlessly he keyed in an access code on a pad I had not seen that was hanging from the outer wall but concealed behind a shrub. I braced myself, fully expecting a raving lunatic or something of the kind to be waiting on the other side. Instead, we stepped in to a perfectly normal hallway every bit as quiet and peaceful as the outside had been. Antique lamps and tables sat in ornamental arrangements along the hall with small chandeliers strategically placed between them. Immaculate paintings and small sculptures made the passageway seem more like an art gallery than anything else. My unease went up another notch. I’d been expecting a Bela Lagousi or Norman Bates setting—not this Hurst–Castle–Meets–Buckingham–Palace layout. Somehow it made things worst. Nothing about the situation made much sense. It certainly wasn’t following a predictable pattern I could see.

“Where’s the Security Office?” I inquired. My friend said nothing but simply nodded at an unmarked door directly in front of us. I could tell he wasn’t feeling any better about the situation than I was. He moved to the door and opened it. I’d been wrong in my expectations regarding potential trouble spots so far. I guess surprise was the last thing I should've felt when the door opened.

Our officer sat slumped on the floor against the far wall. He was in terrible shape.

His uniform was soaked with sweat despite the air conditioned environment and I could see salt rings around his armpits and collar—as if he’d run a marathon. His hair lay flat; matted down with perspiration; but it was the wetness of tears that stained his face. He was softly gasping in jerks and starts and sobbing in between but his hands lay still at his sides. His whole body was shaking and the color of his skin was gray and pasty. His eyes creased in obvious distress as he mumbled to himself but we could see no obvious signs of injury. Instinctively I closed the door quickly behind me as the captain moved to the man’s side and knelt.
“Hey, pal! Hey!” Pages urged quietly as he gently shook the man’s shoulder. The man looked completely oblivious to his surroundings even though his eyes were open.
“Hey!” the captain spoke louder. He shook the man harder this time. The officer just sat there, shuddering in short, jerking movements. Pages stood.
“911?” I asked.
“Not just yet. I wanna see if we can’t shake this guy loose. Get him to tell us what happened.”
We both turned to look at the officer again. He bunched his knees up by his chest and was cradling them in his arms as he rocked back and forth.
“Get on the video monitors,” Pages continued. “Check out the place. See if you can backtrack on the videotape as well. That might give us a clue.”
“You got it.”

I had turned to the system control station before I heard it.
“The light of the hand . . . . .” the officer was saying. “The light of the hand . . . . .” It was coming out softly; feebly; like a choking sigh, but he was talking. We both turned back to the officer. Pages crouched at his side.
“What happened, fella?” Pages urged delicately.
“The light of the hand . . . . . The light of the hand . . . . .” and the man’s voice cracked as he started weeping again. I could tell Pages was getting exasperated. I couldn’t blame him. It was eerie standing in a room full of the latest technology with a man who didn’t even seem to know he was on the same planet. I checked all the camera views available. Everything looked as peaceful as it had when we first arrived. There were no other signs of life. I went to work on the video tape as I listened to Pages try to talk to the man.
“What’s the light of the hand?” the captain asked. “What ‘light of the hand?’”
“The light of the hand . . . . .” the man mumbled. “I couldn’t stay away from the light of the hand so now I gotta die . . . . .” he cried.
“What light, guy? What light?” Pages pressed. “The light in here? You don’t like the light in here?”
“Pages!” I interrupted. “Take a look at this.” He turned and stood, joining me in front of the monitors. I pointed to one. “I backtracked on the surveillance tapes and found the part where the cops were here. Take a look at this.”

It was the view from the monitor at the drop-arm gate on the driveway. There were at least five squad cars pulled up to and around the gate. The glare from their combined lights was almost blinding. I looked at Pages to gauge his reaction. His jaw went slack as his brow curled downward in disbelief.
“What is this?!” he stammered.

There were two squad cars parked side-by-side closest to the gate. Two officers were standing behind each of the open driver doors with their guns drawn and leveled at some unseen target off to the right beyond our view. We could see other officers near their own squad cars in the background, some with their guns drawn and some not. They all looked scared. Two big German Shepherd K-9 dogs were right behind the gate arm. Both of them were jumping from side to side and barking their heads off but neither dog would venture past the gate. There was no audio pickup to go with the picture but it was obvious the officers were ordering the dogs to advance.

No such luck.

“What about the other cameras?” Pages asked quietly. I pointed to another monitor as I hit the play button on a second video machine. This unit panned through views from a dozen different camera angles, some inside the house and some outside. We could plainly see the squad cars from three different views. They were all angles from near the house so we could see the surrounding area as well. Other than a few wisps of fog there was nothing. Nothing. Just then the K-9 dogs broke and ran but instead of going back to their handlers or the squad cars they ran right past them and back down the driveway. As if on cue, the officers jumped in their squads and beat a hasty retreat as well. I glanced at the close-up view of the gate. There was nothing there. A thin patch of fog floated by the lens like a transparent curtain being drawn on the bizarre scene. I kept my mouth shut, waiting to see what Pages comment would be, but my Spook-O-Meter was registering a 12.7. My colleague remained silent. I looked over at him, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Well?” I queried softly, “What do you wanna do?”
“GET OUT!” the man behind us shrieked, “GET OUT!”
The scream nearly sent me through the roof but it had the opposite effect on Pages. It galvanized him into action. He whirled on the man and, to my astonishment, grabbed him by the front of his uniform shirt. The captain hauled him bodily off the ground and brought him up face-to-face; shaking him senseless. “Listen to me!” he shouted. “Listen to me!” It seemed to do the trick. The man stopped his shrieking. Then I discovered that the captain felt the same way as I did. “Look,” he told the man, “if you want to get out of here alive you do exactly as I say. Exactly. I don’t know what’s goin’ on here but we’re gonna find out Right Now. Do you understand?” He waited for a response but the man simply looked back at him with a blank expression and said nothing. Apparently the captain took that as an answer because he continued. “We’re not leaving until I find out exactly what happened here tonight. We’re gonna retrace every step, every round, every move you made tonight. You and me. If you went to the can, we’re gonna go to the can. If you walked backwards down a staircase, we’re walking backward down a staircase. You got that?!”
“The light of the . . . . .”
“SHUT UP!” the captain snarled, giving the man another hard shake. “I don’t want to hear it!” Pages gave the man a minute to pull himself together before continuing. “Now,” he said in a much calmer voice. “I’m gonna be with you every step of the way, understand? Nothing’s gonna happen to you. Just stay cool. We’re gonna walk the rounds first, just so you can see that there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He let go of the man and turned to me. “Give me one of those radios.” he demanded, pointing to the charger rack behind me, “Keep one on for yourself and keep an eye on those monitors. You see or hear anything, you give me a call, understand?”
“You got it.”
“We’ll be back,” he predicted as the two of them headed out the door.

I sure hope so, was all I could think. I left the door open so I could hear what was going on in the hallway and sat down at the monitor console. Captain Pages and the officer had taken a right out of the door and were making their way down the hallway. The man still looked shaky to me. I could hear Pages through the doorway talking in a low, gentle voice; giving what sounded like reassurances to the man. I watched on one of the monitors as they came to a tee at the end of the hallway. Pages guided the man to the right and they slipped out of sight. I checked the overhead display of the first floor layout. To the left of the tee was a dead end. The right turn led them down one of the hallways that formed a square that would eventually lead them back to the security office. All at once I heard elevated voices in the hallway. The captain was evidently still having trouble keeping the man under control. I stepped to the doorway and listened in case Pages had trouble handling him but their voices remained the same. I looked back to the monitor and saw they were still moving at least, approaching a doorway partitioning the hallway. The captain kept one hand under the man’s arm as he used the other to open the door. He guided the officer through, then stepped through himself. When the doors closed, their voices became a distant echo I had to strain to hear. It was then that I heard a ticking sound not unlike the static discharge of electricity. It repeated itself. I looked down at the carpet thinking it might be my shoes making contact with it or perhaps my pant legs rubbing together.

Something was moving on the carpet.

I looked hard. Small spots were depressing and then rising in the plush carpeting. As another one went down I heard the same tick I’d heard before. It sounded more like a knee joint popping as you took a step.

Took a step? The hair stood right up on the back of my neck.

Two sets of these things were going past me, heading down the hallway in the same direction the captain had gone. I watched; frozen in place; as they turned the corner to the right. Suddenly I was able to move again. I jumped back to the console and grabbed the radio.

“Pages! Get out of there right now! Don’t come back the way you came! Take the long way around and move!”
I looked at the monitor. Pages didn’t bother to reply, he just took off like a gazelle. He was too busy hauling the officer down the hallway as fast as he could—all but picking the man up and carrying him in the process. It took little over a minute for him to come bursting around the corner to my left with the officer still in tow. The man appeared catatonic and Pages looked as if he’d just done a one minute mile. I never thought he looked so good.
“What!? What the hell happened!?” he demanded.
“Watch,” I replied as I rewound the VCR for a second or two. I hit the play button and pointed at the monitor as the picture came to life. There I was, standing half in the doorway of the security office looking toward the end of the hallway where it formed a tee.
“What!?” the captain demanded again. I put my finger on the screen, pointing at the carpet. Pages squinted his eyes and looked close. Then his eyes got very big. “We’re outta here,” he stated in a shockingly normal voice. It caught me off guard. Whatever I was expecting, it hadn’t been that. Pages had been too firm in his assertion that he was going to stay until he got to the bottom of things.
“What about this guy?” I argued, nodding my head in the direction of the other man.
“We’re takin’ him with us, stupid!” he snapped.
“What about a relief man?” I stammered. Pages had already turned his back on me and was guiding the other officer through the door. He turned on me with an intensity I’d never seen from him before.
“Forget the relief man,” he declared.
“And the tape?” I asked. I couldn’t get over the sudden change in Pages demeanor anymore than I could deal with what I’d seen. He hauled the other officer back into the office so he could lean close to me. His exasperation was clear as he shoved his face up to mine.
“f*ck the tape,” he snarled. “We’re outta here, right now.”
Suddenly I understood. Pages had gotten to the bottom as far as he was concerned. This was where he got off. I couldn’t have agreed with him more.
“I’m grabbing all the tapes in the VCR’s,” I stated flatly. “We’re not takin’ any heat for pulling our man out and nobody’s gonna believe this without some hard evidence.”
“Fine,” Pages snapped back. “I’ll get this guy out to the car. You lock up the office.”
I grabbed the keys off the console as the captain shoved the other officer into the hallway. I waited until he had opened the main entry door and pushed the man through that one as well before stepping out into the hallway myself and closing the door behind me. I locked the security office door and turned toward the main entry when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked down the length of the hallway and did a double take.

There was a boy of about ten years of age standing in the middle of the tee-junction at the end of the corridor. He wasn’t moving at all, just standing there looking at me. He appeared to be wearing an old-style, grade-school getup from an era around the turn of the century. The small hat he wore was a black, broad-rimmed job complete with the small, circular crown and a ribbon band. He wore a black vest with a white shirt and black ribbon tie. His pants were wide-bottomed, knee-length shorts. The socks were forest green and pulled up as high on his calves as they could go. Dull, black leather shoes completed the ensemble. The first thought that came to mind was that he was a member of the family that owned the place. Training took over.
“Can I help you?” I asked. He didn’t respond at all. He just stood there looking at me, the hint of a grin starting to show on his face. His eyes were light colored and there was a glint of humor starting to form in them, as if he was about to pull a practical joke. I was sure that whatever it was; I wasn’t going to like it. He raised his right hand as if to wave.

“You will die by the light of the hand,” he said.

A yellow-green sliver of light came out from the index finger of his raised hand, extending itself about six inches. It felt as if my body temperature dropped twenty degrees and I shuddered once, very hard.

Then he came for me.

It was incredibly quick. When his body moved it lost the sharp-edged form it’d held before and started jerking as if it were skipping in and out of existence. There was no smooth motion to its advance; the image wavered like a old movie film jumping its track in the projector. He’d closed to within a dozen feet of me by the time I got the main entry door open. I bolted through and spun around to slam it shut behind me in one motion, then backed away from it; scared senseless but unable to turn my back on the door. I expected him to come through it any second. I heard the car door open behind me as I got close to it. I never took my eyes off the front entry as I backed into the open car door. I slid in the front seat on the passenger side and closed the door, never taking my eyes off the main entry the whole time. The other officer was sitting silently in the back seat. Pages didn’t ask any questions, he just put the car in gear and headed out the driveway in a hurry. The gate arm was down. The captain didn’t slow for it but instead swung out on the lawn and around it. Grass was a minor consideration at that point. When we made it out onto the blacktop of the county road again my thoughts began to reorganize themselves somewhat. I looked in the back seat. The officer still looked catatonic. I had the feeling he was going to be that way for a while. I knew that if I wasn’t careful I might end up just like him.

It was a sobering thought.

All three of us remained silent as we headed toward the lights of the city reflecting off the low cloud cover. As Pages turned onto the freeway I asked him if he thought we’d lose the contract for leaving the site unattended.
“Who gives a shit,” was all he said.
I found myself in total agreement.

We took the officer home to his wife and explained as best we could what had happened. She took him to the hospital later that night for examination. They kept him for seventy-two hours of psychological observation before releasing him.

Two weeks later he disappeared without taking his clothes, money, or car with him.

One week after his disappearance his wife dropped out of sight as well. Both of them left all their belongings in the house. No cars, clothes, cash, checkbooks, or credit cards were taken.

We had our office manager review the tapes the morning following the incident. They were then hand-delivered to the client by the manager. Shortly after that the client claimed the tapes had been lost and in the coming months denied that the tapes were ever even in their possession.

The local newspaper simply lists the Police calls to the address that night as: ‘Police responded to an unknown disturbance. No disturbance was found.’

After the disappearance of our officer and his wife I began to do some checking on our company’s service to that client. Records for the previous twelve months indicated that the rate of turnover among security officers at that account was three times higher than all of our other accounts combined. In all but two of the cases the officers quit with little or no notice.

Neither Pages, Todd, or myself ever went back there. We were asked once or twice but simply refused. Reading periodic entries in the local newspaper of Police ‘responding to an unknown disturbance’ was enough to keep us away.
That, and the nightmares that followed…

I don't like to think about this incident, yet, in the years since then I've tried to put some sense to it. The best I've been able to come up with to date is 'The Light Of The Hand' might actually represent a knife with the light glinting off of it as it swung down to strike. Perhaps this boy died under malevolent circumstances. Perhaps the boy was the source of that malevolence in some past life. But, to tell you the truth, I'm just fine with the fact that I'll never know for sure.

One Walker. :|
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
level
Posts: 49
Joined: Sun May 10, 2009 10:35 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Ask me.

Re: One Walker

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Interesting story, told very smoothly with details that form a reality that spawns vision. I have been reading all your posts and find you to be very busy intellectually and spiritually, I wait to see what you will offer next. Kind of, like when waiting for a sequel to a fantasy book series.

All my life I have had plenty of interactions with the supernatural, the unknown and the feeling is always the same, just like the tone of the story. Intense. But as time progressed so did my questions. Just like you, still try to put sense into what had happened to you. It is the question that remains. That question gives birth to new horizons and paths that dictate our life until we form a solid view were we can associate with our up to date lore of understanding and experience what had initially spawned the question in the first place.

The question is the first step to unfolding the matrix of the unknown. The second step is building a base from the little information that is embedded within the question. And finally the third step is actually walking the path that this base has given us.

I hope that you don’t mind me intruding in your creative corner but I see intellectuality in you as well as hunger for knowledge. Were you see infinity, I see details and paths to be walked. Your paths have crossed and I dare not let you go on without giving you some direction and information that might help you on your journey ahead. And I must say that the path that you walk is filled with wonder beyond believe.

“The Light of The Hand” Is the real meaning behind the whole story. It is the very essence of the message that the “boy” was trying to convey. I love the fact that you remembered everything because it extends my horizons. Here I have to share with you why. I have been meditating since I was 14 almost 18 years now. I have accomplished a lot and I am still mastering, pushing the limits and exploring the boundaries of what can be achieved through it. I have found the four corners that form my matrix and ultimately the base of what we call magic. But what your story provided me with is a small detail that you might think unimportant and yet it is everything. Five years ago after a heavy meditation session I was able to release a bolt of energy trough my index finger just like the “boy” in your story. What is different is the color of that bolt. My energy bolt was 2 inches long and lasted for about 3 seconds. The color of that bolt was light blue. I now know that there is variance in color to be achieved and who knows what else. The boy was showing you his degree and level of energy manipulation. He even said it.

I have achieved so much more with the help of individuals just like the boy, but I hold the lightning bolt as special because I achieved that on my own without reading somewhere about it (not including fantasy literature). I can derive more from your story and how the energy discharge was initialized and what the effects were. Not to mention the rest of the encounter. Here I also have to say that usually ascendant masters don’t talk when interacting with us. Their way is more action oriented because words can be misread and misunderstood.

Thank you my friend for sharing. And I hope this gives you a clear view to a path of wonder, just like it does for me.
I love Infinity, where we get to loose our self and catch whats important to us.
One Walker
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Post by One Walker »

Hi Level!

Thanks so much for posting a reply to the story! I can see where our belief systems are different but I certainly respect your viewpoint. I don't see my view of reality spawning visions per say, but rather the open-mindedness I strive for and my intense desire to be an instrument of The Creative Forces through which I might channel assistance and service to my fellow humans that makes me open to the transfer of information. Perhaps that is the same as what you were saying and we just define it in a different way, eh?

But I am very strict about what source of information I open myself up to. I do not pursue the input of ascendant masters, familiars, spirit guides, or any other of the intermediate entities on other planes. Yes, they may be sent to me but I don't actively pursue them, nor do I take their advice if it seems in contradiction to 'Do No Harm'. I stick to The Divine. I go to The Source, not those beings who, like us, are offspring of The Source. Call it God if you will (I do). My viewpoint is kind of like one stated in the movie The Untouchables 'If you're afraid of getting a bad apple, don't pick from the barrel. Go to the tree!' The religious association would be something akin to a person of Catholic faith going to a priest for confession and absolution rather than God itself. (I believe God to be neither male or female, hence 'It' instead of he or she.)

I'll give you an example of one of the ways it seems to work with me. Yesterday afternoon I laid down to take a nap and dreamed of the movie Miracle starring Kurt Russel. It is about the defeat of the Soviet hockey team by the U.S. in the 1980 Olympics. A good movie! I have it on DVD but hadn't watched it for quite some time. There was nothing special about the dream in that it didn't vary at all from the movie but upon awakening one phrase from it popped out in my mind. Coach Herb Brooks and his wife were sitting and talking next to a public skating rink at the Olympic Village at Lake Placid, New York. Brooks wife said that it was okay if they lost the game against the Soviets. Brooks said 'At least they'll know (referring to his players) 20 years down the road that they didn't leave anything on the table', meaning they'll know they gave it their absolute best.

Why that phrase should pop out at me I don't know but that's the way it seems to work in my dreams/visions. I get the essential message shown to me when I wake up instead of while I'm still under. So I asked myself: What I am suppose to derive from this? Do I still have something I left on the table? Or am I doing everything I can or trying to be the best I can be as far as getting The Work done?

I went for a walk out in The Wild to contemplate. Just as I arrived there I saw a girl running across a field with an empty plastic pop bottle in her hand. She ran up to a garbage can next to where I was standing and deposited it. I was extremely pleased to see this because I'm a deep believer in not littering and cleaning up litter in the Earth. The girl had run all the way across the field to drop the trash in the proper place and that told me there was hope for humans yet. In current times our country is collapsing due to runaway corruption, apathy, and greed; and I've seriously entertained the thought that we would be better off at this point wiping the slate clean and start over again with the fundamentals. Go back to a Barter-type system and a material value system based on equitable trade instead of monetary supplication. Go back to working at specific labors designed to put food on our tables, clothes on our backs, and roofs over our heads. Families collectively working together, etc. More of a Homesteading system.

But it occurred to me as I saw the girl's actions that perhaps we're not as far gone as I thought. Perhaps there is enough 'grass-roots' decency left in the world to turn this thing around instead of starting over. And it also occurred to me that perhaps I should be doing more somehow to get the words of Oneness out. Maybe by writing, maybe by talking. Or maybe just by my actions in the everyday world.

Historically, people who have tried to do that almost inevitably suffer severe persecutions for it (The protection of people's Materialism you know) but that doesn't bother me. I'm already persecuted! I don't fear the unknown or death because I don't fear or recognize Limitations. My search for understanding isn't fixed within certain parameters, nor do I want it to be. By definition, Infinity is an infinite number of details and possible paths to walk. No boundaries or limitations except those we choose to chain to ourselves. And this is where I run into a problem with the boy in the story. It isn't the energy he welded but how he chose to use it! No entity worth a hill of beans is going to use the energy they access to create situations or atmospheres that instill fear. That is a malevolent act, not a benevolent one.

Okay, it's time for me to head out to work. Otherwise I'd get into more of what you said. I enjoy talking with you and hope to do it some more in the near future! Blessings to you and evryone!

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
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Re

Post by level »

Hello OneWalker

Sorry for the delay in my reply but I got caught up with my own blog, I know you will understand. I was giving my views about Runes and their possible uses. Speaking of which, I would like to ask you something about Stones, Metals, and wood since you are walking the path of Stone Shaman. What I would like to know is which stones have the capacity to store and bond with external energies? I know that crystals magnify and at the same time reflect energies. I am guessing that wood has some capacity to store energy since it was part of curriculum just like us where energy was constantly part of it until it dies out. That’s where it becomes a vessel with the storage ability attached to it. But I am stuck on stones and metals.

I don’t think that what we believe is different since believes are universal, I just think that we have different standards and degrees of accumulated lore that make us view those believe systems differently. Just like the little boy in your story. I view what he did differently simply because I have gone through the same kind of experiences and much worse. But at the end I accumulated enough knowledge and skills that revealed that everything that is done here on the living plane, initialized by the spiritual plane has a specific goal. Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you stayed and confronted the spirit in question? Yet you are right about the way he chose to display and use his power. At first glance everything points that he has more knowledge and experience than us, and that he might be on a higher level. But, trust me when I say that he failed that night, someone above was calculating and grading his rampage and display of power.

“But I am very strict about what source of information I open myself up to. I do not pursue the input of ascendant masters, familiars, spirit guides, or any other of the intermediate entities on other planes. Yes, they may be sent to me but I don't actively pursue them, nor do I take their advice if it seems in contradiction to 'Do No Harm'. I stick to The Divine. I go to The Source, not those beings who, like us, are offspring of The Source. Call it God if you will (I do)”

This reminds me when my first Spiritual Guide formally appeared to welcome me to their world. I refused the invitation simply because I did not believe that he had something to offer. But I was wrong. He calculated me in that first meeting and saw the spark of talent in me and the following two years I was put under observation and the initial stages of my training. I did not have a say. I fought with everything that I had, because I believed and knew that what I had accomplished on my own was pure and harmless to the world that I live in. That was not the case. They are masters that look for the spark in us. They have pretty much mastered everything that can come to your mind. I tested that. The point was the code and their point of view. Can you believe that I have more memories in a period of 5 years than what I had accumulated for 25? They pushed me to the limits so that I could see the beauty of what they had created. After my training was complete, they showed me their universe and a taste of their dreams and what makes them to look up. I follow the path of the elements of Spirit and Air but I do not ignore the rest of the elements since all the elements are connected. But my strengths are Air and Spirit. My progress in the element of Spirit I owe to the Spiritual Realm. They were gifts and necessity that would help me on my original path.

My point of view about God is kind of more complex since my interactions with the Spiritual Realm. I had the opportunity to be in the presence of a very powerful and old spirit that shared a memory with me that made me gap and expand my understanding of the whole concept. Not to mention the bits and pieces that I picked up trough out my training. Very interesting.
I love Infinity, where we get to loose our self and catch whats important to us.
One Walker
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Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
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Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Hi Level!

Good questions and observations! This is going to be a long post because you may know much of this but others who read it may not, okay? I'm going to break down my response into sections:

STONES AND METALS:

Here's the short answer for you, Level:

Lapis Lazuli is great for psychic work because it induces the influences from without that aid an individual in its contact with the higher sources. The vibratory forces of Sardonyx influence the choices made by the mental forces of the human holding or wearing it. Amethyst is good for controlling your temperament and in meditation. Crystolite is also good for meditation. Employing a Lavender scent while meditating with either of these two last stones is highly advantageous. Why? Because all three (and the colors Purple or Violet) share vibratory frequencies in those areas of application and that vibration frequency is shared by humans as well. Commonality of Purpose (or what we call Intent) among different species and people makes for a much stronger collective force than sheer brut strength of energy itself. There is virtually NO storage of energy in any one item because the whole universe is already one giant storage battery! Humans and all other creatures have almost no Internal Energy by comparison. All energy is External Energy because there is no difference in the type of energy. It's all the same-Akasha-and we all share it. Together you can draw still more energy from items across the vastness of the universe that also share the same vibratory frequency of your Purpose.

The exception to this would be if the human rejected the entire concept of a Universal Energy and simply tried to go it alone. If they did so they would wall themselves off from access to the Universal Energy and would be relying solely on their own internal energy and what little they might be able to extract from the items they employ.

Anyway, the bonding of energy is strictly a factor of the similarities in Purpose at the time. You become attuned to the stone or metal for a given purpose because the vibratory frequency of your Purpose is similar to that shared by the stones or metals you employ. Together you can draw still more energy from items across the vastness of the universe that also share the same vibratory frequency of your Purpose or Intent. Distance is a Human concept and has nothing to do with Time or Space. You can access the energy of the rocks on the Moon just as easily as the energy of the rocks you hold in your hand. To do so only requires mindset.

How to find a stone or metal suitable to your Intent? Either go outside and look around (a method I personally prefer) or go to a store that carries such things. Keep your Intent focused foremost in your mind and just look around. Chances are, before long you'll find yourself attracted to a certain stone, metal, tree, plant, animal, etc. That's because you share the vibratory frequency necessary to your Intent. That's how you know which one to use. Forget what it says in "The Book" or among the opinions of others. This is what's right for YOU.

Here's the detailed explanation:

1) Nothing ever dies. Physical shells may cease to function and dissolve away but the essence, or energy, remains. Energy cannot be lost, only channeled. Therefore, once the energy is channeled through the medium of a physical body there is an exchange of energy. The passing energy picks up a portion of that unique energy combination or imprint existing within or inhabiting the shell of that physical body and passes forward with it while leaving a portion of its own energy imprinted on the entity inhabiting the physical body. Humans call this the phenomenon of Experience.

2) ALL stones, metals, plants, and animals have the capacity to store and bond with external energy, but not all of the energy. The trick in the human application of this energy is knowing which things match up with which frequencies or vibrations of Akasha, or Universal Energy. Everything responds more prominently to certain wavelengths (or phase-forms if you like) than others, AND at certain times or under certain circumstances than others. And everything is unique. No two trees, stones, plants, or animals are alike so not only are you dealing with a general caste, species, or gender but your are also dealing with Personality (Not to be confused with Individuality).

Here's a general rule-of-thumb you can follow that applies to Akasha and its relatedness to function: Low frequencies are deeper and stronger so they deal with more Base aspects. These aspects are like the Love you feel for a soul mate, parent, or a very close and dear friend. High frequencies are more of movement and excitement. These aspects are like love-making or other energetic activity. Or you can look at the Low and High frequency comparison as Low being Thought and High being Action.

In the application of Wood we can see that Maple is a High Frequency species because of its high density. Mahogany would be of a Medium density, or frequency, and Koa of a Low density or frequency. Density is a key factor here and it is so in metals and stones as well. The key factor is how much material is packed into the same size or space. Naturally, higher compaction means higher frequency. Gold is very low frequency because it is low density, or very soft. Diamonds are high frequency because they are very dense.

This comparison holds true for humans as well. We remember most clearly those physical events of our past which are BOTH high and low density. You remember your first kiss, the first time your parents expressed pride in you, your first Best Friend, etc. because these are all BOTH highly charged and deeply moving moments. Your response to the memory is one of Love, Pride, Joy, etc. because this is the low density imprint that accompanied it. The low density energy impact is the most important. Here's why: Lets say you have an endless series of one-night-stands. The act may be very high-density but without the accompanying low-density energy, or Thought connection, the specific act quickly fades from memory. Before long you won't remember the details of the event or even your partner's name. It becomes nothing as far as you're concerned. In the same sense let's say you loved going to summer camp as a kid. Over the years you may forget the name of the place or the people involved but the low-density imprint remains with you because you still recall summer camp with a feeling of fondness, Joy, etc. It lasts, and we are ALL most concerned with those things which last!

Gold and Diamonds are things that humans place high value on in a monetary and beauty sense but do they therefore go well together? The answer is NO! Beauty and Money are strictly human concepts and not part of the Akashic energy pattern so these two items should never be used together in rituals. This is why I'd never have a diamond in a Gold jewelry setting. They are eternally apart. Silver and Gold or Silver and Diamond would be much better in the Akashic sense. The same holds true for other things like metals. Synthesized metals such as Aluminum are worthless for energy because they do not occur naturally. This is why you want to use pots, pans, or other holders/containers made solely of wood, tin, copper, brass, or iron. These occur naturally and so there is a symbiosis with the Akashic energy pattern.


About The Boy:

You are right, of course. What would've happened if I had stayed? I would have ended up just like the other guy because that's where my level of understanding was at the time. If it were to happen now I would still leave immediately and would want nothing to do with the entity. It wouldn't be out of sheer terror but rather because I totally and completely reject what the entity was doing. I have no time, curiosity, or inclination to explore such things as he demonstrated. He has no knowledge I'm interested in obtaining. His goal was not Benevolent in any way, shape, or form. Yes, he may have had advanced knowledge and experience.

So what? Big Deal.

His knowledge is not the same as Enlightenment, nor is it indicative of him being on a 'higher' level if you are using that term as a description of advancement. This kid was some disembodied spirit using it's knowledge for harm and if some other entity was calculating and grading his rampage and display of power than woe be to the both of them! He can just go play with himself, and if he serves some other entity then THAT one can go play with itself too!

On your path:

I deeply hope you don't take offense at anything I'm about to say. That is not my intent, nor is it to claim my beliefs are better or more 'right' than yours. Like you said, we'll all end up knowing the same things in the end!

If that is the path you chose to pursue of your own Free Will that's fine with me, although I find it deeply disturbing that they took away, forced you, or otherwise coerced you into losing your 'say'. This is not the act of a Benevolent being. I have to honestly say though that yours is not a path I want to or will ever pursue. Not to insult you or your spirit guides, but I view them somewhat like a Catholic priest. You have to go to that priest and confess your sins in order to receive absolution from God through them or to know what God 'wants' or wants you to do because you are not 'fit' to do so on your own. Or to tell you what you should think, feel, believe, etc. I reject that concept. I believe we are all children of The Divine, born out of that same entity. This Force is not on some higher level that is separate from us but rather all around us and in us. To hear it, commune with it, understand it and what it has to reveal to us we only have to open ourselves up to it. It doesn't take rocks, or rituals, or doing "The Hoky-Poky" dance. You can use those things to be sure, all I'm saying is you don't need them. And I already know what God, The Divine, The Creator, or whatever we choose to call it wants. We ALL do.

Here's a concept and exercise for everybody's consideration:

NO thought is born in the Mind. It is born in the Soul (forget the organized religion hang-ups associated with that term and just bear with me, okay?). The Soul is our actual Being. Spirit is that which animates and vitalizes (as an energizing source) the link between the ethereal Soul and the Earthly manifestation of that Soul. Mind builds upon that which is in the Soul. Soul is the origin of our Individuality. It is the core of Who We Are. We manifest Individuality in the form of Ideals. Out of our Ideals, whether we are actually conscious of them or not, and through the conduit of Spirit we form Ideas in our Mind. We then act upon the Physical to bring those Ideas into manifestation on the physical plane. How those Ideas react and interact on the physical plane is what makes our Personality, or Reactive Being. When we run into times when problems seem to reoccur-especially over long periods of time; it is a result of a clash between what our Ideals are versus the Ideas we are pursuing. Look to your Ideals and see if they match up with the Ideas you've been pursuing. Most likely they do not. Perhaps it is then time to find out our confirm what your Ideals ARE.

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
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Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

November 18, 2009.

Is it me or does it seem to be a period of weirdness right now? Not necessarily good or bad but just different. Discombobulated. Destabilized. Like the world is somehow out-of-balance? I've had a lot of things about myself revealed to me recently and so I have to say its been a Positive time to be sure. Just the same it seems weird. Maybe because it's just different. But, for those of you who might be feeling the same way and are rather unhappy or uncomfortable about it I thought it would be a good time to post a story about a rather funny experience I had back in the early 1980's. Back on July 31rst I posted a story on Luke The Spook and this is sort of a sequel to it. In keeping with the coming Thanksgiving holiday this one is called The Turkey Treatment. I hope everyone enjoys it, or at least finds a grin on their face!

It takes a certain kind of person to be successful in the security business. They have to be open-minded, yet wary; calm, yet attentive and alert. They have to believe the things they see with their own eyes yet somehow stay rooted in the practical world. Above all, they must have the ability to put things in perspective. Because of this most officers tend to take themselves and their duties either too seriously or not seriously enough. There’s a trick to it all right but if you can find that particular balance there’s only one way to describe the job: Fun.

Take practical joking for instance. Security companies shudder at the mere thought of their employees engaging in such practices but to the well-grounded security officer it is one of the essentials. For most officers this takes the form of scaring the bejesus out of one another. Not only does it combat boredom but also desensitizes the officer to strange sights and sounds and the increased anxiety levels that result.

I learned that lesson all too well while stationed in a 200 year old mill in Massachusetts along with my old comrade-in-arms Todd Norton. Our very first look at the place told us we were in for an eventful stay. The mill sat against a river running through a small, quiet town on the east side of the Berkshire Mountains. Visions of Sleepy Hollow danced in our heads as we took in the lay of the land. We were already pranksters of nefarious reputation so being placed in a location like this smacked of the miraculous. Either that or headquarters had suffered a truly collective brain-fart on our behalf. In any case, we couldn’t help but salivate over the prospects the mill had to offer in terms of giving each other a terminal case of the heebie-jeebies.

Once inside, our expectations grew beyond all bounds. The walls looked to have been put up some time just prior to the Revolutionary War and the floorboards produced a steady procession of pops, creaks, and groans as we wandered about the place. Numerous alcoves randomly speckled the short, narrow passageways and rail-less, near-vertical staircases peppered the walls. Best of all, everything had a musty smell to it. You could practically see the apparitions floating about the place. It wasn’t hard to imagine meeting some gruesome fate in the bowels of the mill—which of course was exactly what we had in mind for each other. We exchanged looks and grinned.

Perfect.

It didn’t take long for us to settle into a routine. Foot patrols were short but difficult in the cramped spaces and there were several floors to cover. We discovered an old, cage-style elevator that might have saved us some time and effort—and presented a truly wonderful potential resource for getting ourselves into trouble—but we shared a mutual distrust of them. Some time ago while working in an office complex back in Minnesota Todd and I had met up with the resident ghost Luke The Spook. Aside from slamming doors; stomping up and down stairwells; and popping up in glass reflections; Luke had this fixation for using elevator doors like guillotines while you were trying to get past them that, well, made hiking up seventy flights of stairs seem like a pretty good idea. Besides, taking the elevator limited the number of areas we could bushwhack each other in and that meant depriving ourselves the opportunity of giving the other guy a heart attack.

The first one wasn’t long in coming and I was the one who suffered it. Todd’s opening gambit in our little game was to spring The Turkey Treatment on me—a cure-all unknown to modern medicine but commonly used in days of yore to cure gout, blight, toothaches, acne, adultery, pandering, and hiccups. Todd’s version went like this:

I was wandering down one of the dark, alcove-ridden hallways late one night when out from the shadows leaped a bifocal-ed, zombie-looking creature with its arms extended and its hands clawed as it screamed:

“GOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLE!”

It must’ve been extremely satisfying for Todd; watching me make a life-size indentation in the wall; let alone the one I made in the ceiling. By the time my brain caught up with the rest of my body I was going into terminal vapor-lock and collapsed on the floor. Todd leaned over to inspect his handiwork:

“Your tests have come back and I think I know what your problem is: Acute Myocardial Infarction.”
“Thanks, scumbag. As soon as I get my heart started, I’m gonna do some testing on you—with my can of Todd-B-Toast!”
“Hey, I’m not the one who fell for the ol’ Turkey Treatment. Now are you all right or what?”
“I could use some help with the chest compression’s but touch my lips and you’re dead.” Todd just chuckled as he pulled me to my feet. I busied myself brushing off; taking as long as possible until the pounding in my chest eased and my breathing returned to something like normal. When I finally mustered the courage to face him; Todd was wearing an expectant grin on his face. “Well!? Don’t just stand there, dummy!” I snapped, “Help me find my eyeballs!”

I got him back of course. Reaching out of a pitch black corner with an ice-filled rubber glove tied to a broom handle and brushing the fingertips against his face worked real good. He kept getting me with that doggone Turkey Treatment though. He knew he’d found a winner and he stuck with it. His favorite was to nail me just as I left the top floor and was about to head down a long, vertical staircase. There was a nifty little alcove right there; perfect for hiding in and pouncing from. You could stare right at it and never see the person standing there. Only great good fortune kept me from ricocheting right down the stairwell on several occasions. Todd’s only problem was that he went to the well once too often.

I’d just completed my check of the top floor one night and was about to open the door that led into the stairwell when all of a sudden the lights went out. Instinctively I knew it was yet another twisted attempt in my partner’s diabolical scheme to kill me. I knew he was waiting on the other side of the door with another rendition of The Turkey Treatment. Well, I wasn’t about to go out there. I knew it would startle me badly no matter how much I tried to prepare myself for it and I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. As it turned out I didn’t have long to wait. I heard the door in front of me slowly open. Todd must’ve been wondering why I hadn’t come through yet and decided to come looking for me. I saved him the trouble:

“GOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLE!”

I would’ve paid real money to have been able to see right then but as it was the cacophony of smashes, crashes, bangs, thumps, grunts, groans, and shrieking in general was gratifying in the extreme. When the lights came back on Todd was frantically trying to claw his way through the far wall of his favorite hiding hole. Finally he realized he could see again. He turned around slowly; a wild, hunted expression on his face.

“You scumbag!” he hollered.
“It serves you right for turning the lights off!” I gloated.
“Me! I didn’t turn the lights off! How could I when the breaker boxes are on the first floor and I'm up here!?”
He was right. The smile faded from my lips. We were both on the top floor so who…

The cage door of the elevator on the first floor picked that moment to slam shut with a force that shook the whole building. Todd and I looked at each other, our mouths agape.

Luke!

Our spectral nemesis from the past had followed us! I could hardly think of anything worse than being stuck at the top of a rickety old mill with Luke The Spook. A look of utter doom fell across our faces. It was the last thing we saw before the lights went out again.

“Todd?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll hold out my hand. You walk towards me until you feel it touch you, okay?”
“No way! I’ll end up falling down the staircase! Why don’t you come to me!?”
“Because if you go first, and we fall, your body will cushion my impact.”

We stood there for a long moment in silence; listening to the building noises; expecting some heinous creature of the netherworld to jump us at any moment. Finally my eyes adjusted to the darkness well enough for me to see a little bit.

“Hey, Todd!”
“Shut up! Do you want Luke to hear you!?”
“I can see the window at the back wall. That gives me an idea. We can slip out the window, crawl out onto the overhang, and jump to the ground from there. Or maybe we could get out over the waterwheel and climb down.”
“Are you nuts? We’re in the middle of a Spring thaw. That roof is covered with snow, water, and ice. We’d slide off that thing like snot out of a two year-old!”
“We can stick to the edges and hang on to the eaves. That way we could ease our way down.”
“And maybe we could get killed too!”
“Fine. I’m going out the window. You and Luke can have fun on the staircase. ”

Getting to that window became everything. It was our sole hope of survival but the path between it and us might as well have been the road to the Pearly Gates for all the perils we perceived. Walking heel-to-toe through near-absolute darkness while waving our arms wildly about to keep from bumping into things was probably the scariest moment of our young lives. Each sweep of my arm brought visions of grabbing hold of Luke himself or some similar nightmarish entity. Floorboards moaned and cracked with every step we took as if they would give way any minute and send us crashing through to the floors below. It was inevitable that my worst fear became reality. We were half-way to the window when something grabbed my belt from behind.

It was Todd.

“You idiot!” I screamed, once my lungs started working again. “What’re you doing!?”
“I figured it made more sense to hold onto your belt than wave my hands around too. I’m following you, remember?”
“Well, give a guy some warning for cryin’ out loud! I thought you was Luke!”

We reached the window without further incident. Our hearts leaped to look at the thick blanket of snow on the ground beneath us brightly glistening in the moonlight. Too bad the melting ice cascading down the overhang in front of the window hampered our view.

“Well? What do we do now, smart-ass?” Todd quipped.
“What do you think? We go out anyway. Do you wanna get a little wet or all dead?”
“That water’ll be cold…”

And it was too, but no more so than, say, your average glacial runoff. I stood on the roof and hung on to the eaves for dear life as Niagara Falls poured down my front. Todd finally managed to struggle over the windowsill and took up a position opposite mine. He turned to me with a look of absolute misery. We were tired, cold, soaked through to the bone, and scared to death but the worst was over with.“We’re on the down-side now!” I shouted by way of encouragement.

Without further ado, the roof collapsed beneath us.

A two-hundred year-old mill collects an awful lot of debris. Unfortunately, all of it happened to be piled directly underneath us. With a tremendous POOF! both of us landed right in the middle of two centuries worth of accumulated rodent hair, bird feathers, animal bones, dust-balls, and mammalian excrement. The smell alone would’ve gagged a goat but that wasn’t my concern at the moment. I lay perfectly still; unable to believe we had fallen so far and survived. I waited for the pain of broken limbs to wash over me but it never came. Finally I managed to work up enough courage to hazard a look at my body. I gently raised my head; only to see that I was covered from head to toe with dirt, sawdust, and animal waste. Scarcely able to believe my good luck, I called out to Todd.

“Hey, buddy! Are you hurt?”
“No, but there’s something in my mouth that tastes suspiciously like the hind end of a dead camel.”

We both sat up and looked each other over. He too was covered in shavings, feathers and filth. We started to laugh—at having survived; at the predicament we had gotten ourselves into; and at the way we looked. Our merriment was cut short however by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Holy smokes! It’s Luke! He’s coming to finish us off!”

We ducked back down in the pile in a futile attempt to hide. Captain Pages, our patrol supervisor, came though the door. Apparently he had stopped by on an inspection tour and came looking for us when nobody showed up down at the security desk. He didn’t see us though. He was too busy gaping at the carnage.

“Good Grief! What happened to the roof!?”

At last! This was the moment we’d been waiting for! Todd and I both jumped up:

“GOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLE!”

One Walker. :D [/i]
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
One Walker
Posts: 595
Joined: Wed Jan 14, 2009 4:42 pm
Gender: Female
Location: Minnesota, USA

Post by One Walker »

Sunday, December 5, 2009

It's a gorgeous Saturday morning! The sun is just coming up on an absolutely clear day. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground and the air is cold, fresh, and clean!

Clean. Certainly not pure in the chemical sense. Perhaps what we mean when people say that is not exactly Clean but Cleansing. It's that feeling you get when you fill your lungs with it in great, deep breaths. Not Fresh either but rather RE-Freshing. You can feel the toxins being purged from your system. It's revitalizing. It's also one of the few times you feel much better instantly. A few deep breaths find you smiling; feeling re-energized; and, in a certain sense, feeling far more awake and alive than you did only moments ago. It's almost like hitting the 'Reset' button on your perspective or even your attitude. It feels like a positive, calming rush-if that makes any sense to you. Your outlook becomes positive and you feel better about things right away-Like Nemo eating The Oracle's cookie in The Matrix.

Funny that the Matrix analogy popped in my head right there. The Oracle was right you know. Taking that deep breath of Winter's Air is like eating that cookie to be sure. We shrug off the chains of supposed Fate and, at least for those few moments, we don't believe in it. We feel a true essence; which is that we really ARE in control of our lives. But it's not Strength, or Determination, or Willpower that brings this to us. It's Hope. Not in the spiritual sense of wishful thinking or blind faith but in the inner power of belief and desire to make things better.

With the war going on; the economy collapsing; and the buzz about 2012 there seems to be a large number of people feeling helpless and without Hope these days. That's certainly an understandable emotion under the circumstances. When you feel Helpless you lose Hope. But, like Nemo's dilemma, that is a Choice. Giving up is always a personal choice. Usually it results from being at a loss as to what to do next. You can't change the whole world, right? So what can you do?

But you can do something to change the world. Not as one individual changing the whole physical world; although there have been people who have done so; but rather as you changing your world. Whatever your world may be it is still a part of the larger one and, because all things in existence are interconnected, if you change something in your own world it will inevitably change the larger world as well, will it not? It HAS to!

Now that may appear to be a monumental task in itself but it's really not if you stop and think about it. We tend to measure things in terms of tangible, physical results yet that gauge is perhaps the least important criteria there is! The physical is merely a manifestation of Thought. We know this because nothing in the physical world comes into existence without having first been formulated as an Idea. So here's a simple Idea to start changing the world:

Smile at a stranger.

When you walk up to that clerk at the superette try giving them a big smile and say: "Hi! How's it going!?" They're going to smile back and say: "Hi! Just fine! How are you?" Both of you will instantly feeling better because everyone likes to receive a genuine smile, right? If you want to look at it in magical terms then fine; you are indeed practicing Magic. You are casting a spell are you not? One of Well-being. You are channeling the Universal Forces for Positive Intent.

When you walk out of the superette think about how that exchange made you feel. Pretty darn good, didn't it? But it wasn't what you did as much as what you got back. You helped make someone else's day a little better by making it a little brighter. That gives you quite a positive rush, does it not? For the cost of your small effort in bending a few facial muscles and uttering a few words you sure got a lot out of it in return! How much more valuable was the reward to you versus the outlay of effort you performed? 3 times more? 10? 100?

How much more would it be if you did that to everyone you met today? Tomorrow? Every day? Put yourself in that clerk's place for a moment. How much better would you feel if everyone that came in the store that day did the same thing? How brighter would your day and outlook be? How much easier would work be?

Now think about this: How much more Hope would everyone have if everyone they met every day just smiled and said 'Hi!'?

It would change the world.

No complex algorithms. No money. No huge outlay of effort. Everybody is looking for quick, easy fixes to everything these days. They are obsessed with shortcuts, never realizing that they're not taking shortcuts or making things easier; they are completely skirting the essence. The Issue. You want to practice Magic? Practice this. It is the best, most powerful, and most meaningful Magic there is and you can do it all day every day! We practice Magic to fulfill our Needs and those of others. That's it. There is no other reason or use for Magic. But you will never, ever receive that which you do not give! Give, or Express (which is Giving), Hope and Love and you will receive it back many times over. Give Helplessness and Despair and that too you will receive back many times over. The Choice is yours!

One Walker. :D
We have seen what Power does.
We have seen what Power costs.

One is never equal to the other.
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