“I was peppered with metal alloys that turned my shin into a barometer, and squeezed
through a closed half-door that still allows my hip to register changes in humidity. Logically, I'm
either destined to become a meteorologist or the omen is that I'm on my own.”
Looking disoriented, as if she had awakened in a stranger’s apartment, she said, “You were
told you would be safe!”
“Sure, by you.”
Bonnie opened her palms toward the ceiling, sighed with eternal weariness, then with papal
appeal precluding any doubt that a monumental moment had just passed me by, she pleaded into
the ether, “Please, not the long way.”
“There’s a longer way?” I chuckled, sarcastically.
Puffing her cheeks in an exasperated pant, she said, “Maybe you would be more willing to
recognize the presence of Spirit in your life if I used a term that appealed to your irreverence for
all things unseen.” Bonnie leaned back, crossed one arm below her breasts then rested an elbow
in one cupped hand and her chin the other. She remained motionless for half of an uncomfortable
minute for me, other than a tiny nibble on her lower lip challenging me to believe that she was
browsing through sophisticated abstractions. The minute mark crawled by as I fought the ghost
of giddy to try to believe she was giving her all to help me. Thirty more seconds and shallow
breaths began to betray my anticipation of hearing the single word that might change my life.
Ten more seconds and the wisdom of the ages seemed to clarify behind Bonnie’s suddenly wide
eyes.
I leaned forward to receive this vital knowledge a millisecond sooner.
“You can call them Smurfs,” she said seriously. “Maybe that’ll get you past religion to see
how momentum doesn't distinguish between targets and bystanders, except for you.”
Apparently not. “This kind of scene will be miles out of character in the screenplay. You’ll
have to find another way.”
“Maybe it’ll help to approach the issue from a more mundane perspective. You seem glued
to that spot.”
“As your audience will be. I told you, my experiences at Goodbye weren’t representative.”
”They certainly are, just not about what you’re thinking. Give me a second.”
Bonnie gathered her thoughts, then she offered me an overview of Universal presence she
had discovered in the books Kha-lib had suggested I read. She said that from the first world war
to the end of the second, Edgar Cayce introduced western cultures to the concept of channelling.
From the early 1960's through the mid 1980's, Jane Roberts further established the Universe's
presence, intentions, and teaching bona fides through her Seth channels. At the same time, Lynn
V. Andrews and Carlos Castaneda were chronicling the dexterity of human consciousness, in
separate apprenticeships, from the male and female perspectives.
“In our time,” Bonnie said, “there are growing waves of artists, writers, environmentalists,
and healers moving away from traditional practices to form a bigger picture of a Universal
intercession underway. Their role is to contribute to the collective unconscious and add
momentum to a changing world.”
“Without knowing Spirit directly, like ordinary people in your book represent our
audience?” I said.
