MY GUARDIAN; MY GURU; MY HEART

My first transcendent experience was at a Mother Goose theme park in Dallas Texas when I was three years old. One of their exhibits was the Old Lady’s Shoe which consisted of a small single room with a flight of stairs printed on the wallpaper beginning on my left and ending at a printed balcony overhead that ostensibly led to a doorway on the right. A man and his daughter were already filling the space when I entered. The shoe wasn’t built to accommodate adults so they quickly exited and I was left alone staring at a small empty space. Turning to leave I heard, “Psst, Amanda.” I looked around to see who called my name and there on the bottom of the stairway – printed on the wallpaper – 3 little girls about 6-7 years old in play dresses, waving at me and teasing each other while scampering up the stairs. Again they called “Amaaaandaaaa!” and there they were at the bannister over my head waving, leaning over to reach further out toward me before scampering out the door on the 2nd floor. Shocked, I rushed outside to my mother who snapped a picture with her Brownie camera as I left the shoe behind. This moment defined my life and motivated my every decision. That was 1955, but in 1999, my husband, David and I apparently began channeling The Guardian. He did not offer a name at the time, but claimed to be a transcendent-being that had always been a part of my life whether as a specter or an imaginary friend. When I brought up my childhood vision, he told me the three little girls I saw came specifically to get my attention so that I’d know in the years ahead, that my reality held more than mortality offered.

3 year old children accept what they see as reality. They don’t question their own sanity, but if they receive such visions and share with their parents, what happens? There is little room in an adult’s world for such fancies. In his autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Carl Jung develops a mapping directions to the source of other dimensional experiences such as these. I’ve found him very helpful as I attempt to navigate through what is real and what is not. There are more of us visionaries than our society cares to admit because we haven’t figured out how to make money as a mystic outside of fortune telling. Religions don’t allow much room for such experiences as their definitions slip way too conveniently into some devil worshiping cult mongering marginalizing [explicative]. Mysticism is an organic physical right-brained process whose pathways go right down to the core of the primitive brain, sharing space with olfactory and sexual zones which is why mysticism is so intensely erotic.

I saw the Guardian once when I was 18. I lived in a small 4 room house with 2 bedrooms 20 miles west of Chicago with my mother while going to High School. It was the year I gave my virginity to Bill, a young man who grew up across the street. My bedroom was next to the front door so it was easy to slip into the room when mom was sleeping in the larger bedroom across the living room. The house made me nervous so sometimes Bill would come in and make sure I was tucked in before leaving. My bed was an old couch with large removable bolster pillows that I removed every night to leave room for a bed. Usually Bill sat at the edge of the bed quietly until I told him I was drifting off before he’d quietly leave. I heard the front door click shut and was drifting off when I felt someone sit where Bill had just been. I opened my eyes, and there sitting on top of my blankets, bunting up against my leg was Bill’s shadow, posed exactly as he’d just been with hands peacefully on his lap. My heart beat faster and I closed my eyes thinking I was imagining it. When I opened my eyes again, there he was and hadn’t moved an inch. We sat silent, looking at one another for about a full minute before he got up and walked backwards into the wall between my room and the outside.

When I asked him of this incident later, the Guardian told me he frequently walked into my lovers and was in fact the motive force for Bill taking my virginity as well as the many lovers I’d have in California and on through my life. [Include reference for Hindu practitioners possessed by transcendents]. That He’d have been in my room protecting me anyways, but I had been carrying so much sexual energy by that point that once I became sexually active, I released so much energy He actually manifested.

St. Terese of Avila talks about her encounter with one of these.[EN] It’s true, they’re strong and implacable. Just imagine for one moment that you are sitting on a bus, minding your own business and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you feel something sweep over you. You feel it. Strong. Passionate. Your thighs are aflame. Your inner core on fire. There’s people holding on to the railing next to you because the bus is crammed, standing room only and you won’t be home for over an hour. Chicago is a really big place. All you wanna do is MASTURBATE. You think of a million different scenarios to try and trick yourself into submitting to the time. You ride the minutes…every second counts. When you get home, throw off your clothes, lie on the living room rug, spread your legs and HAVE AT IT.

These occasional Close Encounters (CE) with your Spirit aren’t the only indicators of ineffable interactions. There are Soul connections as well as the Journey that laces every New Age bookshelf that are real and clearly defined. Engaging these CEs is when it gets interesting — changing into the same interdependent trappings as mountain climbers scaling Mt. Everest.

        
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