It’s been a while. Here’s a new, short take that fits into the SoulKeeper series I wrote last year. It’s kind of cryptic in places and it leaps about a bit but it’s been a while since I wrote more than a shopping list. Enjoy, and see with your heart.
I remember it; I’ll never forget it. I woke with the plan of ‘turning right’ but the Presence kept telling me to ‘turn left.’ You know me well enough now to know I’ve sort of prided myself on not always being obedient to Spirit, and I’m sure It knew today was going to be one of those days. The persistent signal is It’s way of telling me to stop fucking about and to listen, to see with my heart. I kicked. I screamed. I stuck my fingers in my ears and did the toneless ‘lalalalalalalala’ Not Listening song. Then I turned left and my life was transformed.
I’d heard your name mentioned the last time I was in that store but you and it had both gone out of my memory. Making the half hour drive, I felt a little enervated. The Presence was pervasive and insistent, but It wouldn’t say why. I made that trip on pure trust. I parked, then I smoked, then I went the other way. I bought a coffee I didn’t want and sat down to drink it in a place I didn’t like. If I turned right it’d take me back to my car. If I turned left it would take me to the store. My feet wanted to vote right one more time. The Presence asked me to see with my heart. I turned left.
In the sixteen years since I became a SoulKeeper my life has been smashed against a wall. The things I lost were almost everything that gave meaning to my life: the financial trappings that came from decades of hard physical work and massively long hours, the woman I’d hastily married and didn’t regret losing, and the child – my only one – who had been stolen from me and kept hidden all these years. I existed in service to others, because the Presence had said that: ‘To him much has been given, and much is expected.’ I couldn’t see what I’d been given. All I could see was what I had lost.
I kept to myself. I studied, read widely, observed, and considered. I self-educated and came to my own conclusions. I became smarter, and wiser, but I didn’t become braver. Over the years the message changed but by then I had learned not to trust myself or the Presence. Among all the pain and heartache, not only my own but that which I witnessed in others, there was one persistent signal, like a strong heartbeat that was always there but which I had relegated to background noise. “I will restore to you the lost years.” At first it gave me hope, because I thought the restoration was about to begin. After a while, it gave me pain, because I thought I was just hearing what I wanted to hear. After a decade, it just made me angry. I felt that the Presence had deceived me, or that I’d deceived myself, or, much worse, that both of us had worked to break everything good I had left in me.
Everyone breaks. It was on the third of October that the Presence began delivering the worst one yet. Over the next ten weeks I suffered more than I had suffered if all the worst moments of my life so far had been joined. I became too shaky to trust myself at work; I operated on muscle memory and experience and no one noticed, but inside me was a vibration so strong I felt I could barely stand. A week later, I quit, just like that. I collected my things, said my goodbyes quickly, walked out the door, and never looked back.
I don’t really recall the next seven weeks. Lots of tears, being dazed, more tears, searching for meaning. I couldn’t close my eyes but at times I couldn’t keep them open, either. Sparks were flying out of my chest, my third eye was pounding, my body was weak, and I hoped my soul was separating from my body. I looked online, wondering if I was in the grip of depression. The ‘symptoms’ I had didn’t align with what I read. I saw my very trusted friend and doctor and he said with a certainty I didn’t feel that it wasn’t depression and my physical condition was excellent. I saw another doctor, one I hadn’t seen in many years, and he confirmed the first non-diagnosis. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a sickness of the mind or body. This was coming from my soul.
On the twentieth of November, something happened. At 7:45pm I felt the Presence strongly, and it took control of my heart rate and breathing. There in the darkness, my arms and hands were moved without my volition. Paper and pen, eyes closed, the Presence used my hand to deliver a beautifully legible message:
“Your gift to the world is compassion. You are very clever, intelligent, and you have experienced more than many. Your knowledge is power in motion and many need, desire to learn, and will be called to you.
“Love. A broken heart heals, and in the breaking it frees that which is deposited within.
“Remember the ‘lost years’ promise. It is that, and a prediction. Be who you are as if no one is watching, and be who you are as if everyone is watching.
“The time of miracles approaches: hold faith.”
Was that it? Did I need, in some mystical and other-worldly way, to be completely broken? Objective achieved, I thought, but in reality it was just the first time I’d hit the canvas. I wanted to stay there, for the fight to be over, but there is something inside me that just will not allow me to stay down.
Two days later, at 6:30pm, the Presence returned and the writing began again. It described a time and a place, far from me and months in the future. It also described you, and it told me – ordered me:
“DO NOT RUN! You will know her by her signal. You are the keys to each other’s locks. Loved through lifetimes. STAND STILL! Don’t harden your heart.”
Do not run? Life had not been worth what I paid to live it. I wanted to go ‘home’, to go back into Spirit where nothing could hurt me anymore. And then, instead of talking to me, the Presence talked with me.
“My heart can’t take another beating.”
“She is FOR you even – and especially – when you are not for yourself.”
“Can I do this alone?”
“Honour, courage, and commitment can take you far, but they CANNOT take you into the realms from which you both must work, if the Sacred is to be made visible and tangible.”
“Can’t I just be enough on my own? Father, I am tired of losing what I love. Please, not again.”
“Our love is ever-present for you, Angel of Us. We send you the gift of human touch, of a love for you so profound that the experience of it will heal those places in you that have been pushed and torn beyond what one should experience. Let her love you, for she remembers you and desires to love you beyond all measure.
“Even now, there is a stirring in her soul that is unquenchable save for your signal. Combined, you are the holographic pattern of the Divine Heart, made manifest. With time, effort, and cooperation, the pattern may be replicated.”
“There must be others, better than me, who can do it. There’s so little left of me. I’m in tatters, Father. Please, no more.”
“You have walked so far in Service to All. Walk a little further. We have you in our hands. Give her the chance to love and be loved, for yours is a match forged across lifetimes.”
I made a deal with the Presence. If It fulfilled the requirements I laid down, I would do what It asked of me. I saw no practical way those requirements could be filled. In December, I went back out into the world; shaky, emotionally battered, fragile beyond anything I’d ever known, but I got up, I breathed, and I put one foot in front of the other. Surprisingly to me, by the beginning of March all of my requirements had been fulfilled, although even on count back I couldn’t quite understand how it had happened.
I did what I said I would do, because I said I would. I stripped my life down to rolling stock, only taking whatever would fit in the boot of my car, and I aimed at a point thousands of kilometres away because a disembodied voice told me to. The persistent signal was with me all the way, until I arrived, and then it vanished. It had told me where I would find my daughter, and I found her, only to find that she wasn’t worth finding.
I had a sense that a background programme was running but I just couldn’t quite locate it. One day I decided to stay, the next day to go, and the next to stay. For five weeks the Presence had no meaningful and understandable presence in my life … until that morning, when the persistent signal returned.
I walked into the store and there you were, your back to me. I made no sound but you sensed my presence and turned, and our eyes met and locked. I remember that look. It was shared recognition and it went back lifetimes. It was the day I loved you and the day you loved me. Through all the changes, adjustments, and difficulties we’ve faced, we have both understood and accepted the reliability of the persistent signal.
The lost years are being restored to me, and to you.