Back to the OC

It was June 17th 2020 and there I was. Reading my first message from Ben sitting at the breakfast table at Shanti with Ken. Since I’d left California on Dec 31st 2019 and tied up my sneakers, pulled up my pajama pants, grabbed a backpack and went on a walk to an unknown destination, we hadn’t spoken since, well in the physical realm I mean. Entering into another shift. As I read his message to me, I couldn’t remember which forgiveness letter I had typed up and emailed first. There was one written to the Madonna Ministries, one to Lori Lavalley, Karen, and lastly Ben. These letters of forgiveness were what I learned to call “hidden parts” inside me, my energy field. Resentments that I had been apparently holding onto, but they weren’t coming up in my conscious awareness day after day until God sat me down and told me to get to typing and actually send the letters. I hadnt gotten to that “you’ll get to the point where forgiveness becomes a slow thought”, part in my journey. The part where forgiveness, the act of still needing to forgive so to speak, meant I still believed in separation. I still was making the world a real place. At times, I needed to write letters and actually send them . in order to have the knot of energy leave my field and get swooped up into the higher energies of God and come back to me. I loved that feeling. I was easy on myself about it. I had recently developed a really close relationship with this thing I’d forgotten about. They call it “grace”. Grace came in around mother’s day, and things for me got a lot, I don’t know, more settled.

I was now remembering the last email I sent him. In a paragraph or so, pouring out my feelings of sadness to Ben. How I went through such a personally trying time of giving up my life, and as someone that I considered my “best friend”, he wasn’t there emotionally or towards the end even physically to support me in the process. I got in touch with the sadness, the resentment, all the hidden parts apparently I was hiding from myself that I felt.

I remember laying in his bed trembling the day before I found out that Dennis died a year ago. “My whole life is about to change Ben. I have this responsibility, it’s to the world, it’s so big. What am I going to do?” He stared blankly up at the ceiling, at best tolerating that I was clutching on to his chest, curled up in a ball. I was sweating from the risen heat in his bedroom on that hot August day, yet I was shivering. I knew where I tripped up with him. I had tripped up in that familiar land of….expectations.

“No expectations”, another memory flooded in as I still sat at that table with my laptop. In my minds eye, I see my friend Vivian’s face six years before in New Jersey leaning over the side of my car as she waved goodbye with my twins in the back seat, just babies then. I used to tell her “no expectations” as she would lament to me about struggles with her husband and so she used to sarcastically repeat it back to me in a playful way. “NO EXPECTATIONS”. I’d say it to her, and listen to it in a 20 minute Abraham Hicks rampage on Youtube, but I hadn’t fully integrated the meaning of what it meant to have no expectations for any experience or person, including myself.

So back to the breakfast table, it was now five days after I’d written Ben, and he responded back on his birthday. He responded back with a picture of my old house and sent it to me. The house where he used to come over and let himself in because he lived 30 seconds away from my front door and I could timely give the front door a swift unlock upon his arrival. The twins would greet him, BEN! BEN! they’d yell, and he’d reach down and he’d twirl the twins around for a bit. The house where we used to talk and talk and talk until sometimes three in the morning and my bedtime was usually 10pm.

I miss you! Sandy misses you! He wrote. I miss us hanging out here at your house! I miss the boys. When are you coming into town?

I read it and there was my tummy. The love feeling that I’d become even more familiar with because of my time with Michael rushed in. My head buzzing uncontrollably. The energy shift we’ve been waiting for is here I thought to myself as I read his message, or maybe I said it to Ken, I can’t remember. All it took was a message from Ben. See at that point Ken and I were waiting for what was to happen next at Shanti Christo. Would we stay or go? We didn’t know. In May/June, Shanti Christo’s future was uncertain for Jayem was doing everything in his power to get possession of the property that acted as a place for visitors next to Shanti. He planned to agree on a date to have Ken and me kicked out, and change everything, once the sale went through to make Shanti Christo into a retiree/Way of Mastery retreat center.

I said to Ken as we looked at places on the land to potentially tent at a few days before. Yes, live, and tent. I would stay if God said to. Ken I didn’t want to follow my lead unless it was his own free will to do so. When we go outside, to go look at several spots to tent Ken, there will be a shift in energy either way, we’ll know what to do soon. We looked around, and nothing rang a bell. “This isn’t it. I don’t know, we aren’t supposed to stay here.” The energy was flat. At least that much I knew.

Now that Ben had responded back. I was going home. “Home.” I guess San Clemente I would always call my human home. My home now really, it was with God. It had been that way for quite some time now. I loved the feeling of feeling home wherever my body was. I loved Shanti Christo, but the land was missing it’s spiritual roots. Those roots certainly weren’t rooted in the people I’d met in my time there. Shanti needed a serious surgery. And it would come from some major physical and energetic changes that no longer involved my presence. I’d done all I could. So, I booked my ticket to the OC.

You’ll go home to see about your car. I assumed that meant to pick up my car. The rest of the trip I didn’t know. My stomach put the lovey dovey Ben feelings aside for a second and realized that the shift would bring a closing of another cycle. I felt a knot form in my stomach.

I had seen Michael maybe a week or so before in the beginning of June. It was a Wednesday. He surprised me and drove up to Shanti for a visit. And I just knew somehow it would be the last time I’d see him for a very long time. I remember soaking up every inch of how he looked, how he was. I wanted to remember the really good parts of the day. Saying goodbye to New Mexico in a physical way was making my tummy churn.

The last days at Shanti seemed to drag on. The very last days were spent in a weirdly located resort in Espanola with Ken. As he packed up his belongings, left most of mine behind and we headed to Espanola, we didn’t know for sure what would happen with the house there at Shanti. But we did know that Jayem’s plan to purchase it from the owner fell through.

Weeks before, that shift had to do with the start of a visit from a woman named Kelly. She brought a powerful gift of spirit with her in her stay at the land for five days, that trailed into another visitor, Tommy Wonder. Instead of just Ken being evicted, Jayem had to leave too. Mission accomplished according to God. At least for now.

Go to California.

I arrive on a Wednesday. A week from that day that I sat at that breakfast table. Saying goodbye to Ken was easy for me, but harder for him. I was so grateful for his devotion to help me to putting God’s plans into action. He stayed longer at Shanti than he had planned to. I needed help with human stuff, and he helped me with my human stuff. He was good at it. I knew our time together had been transformative, and, it had also ran its course for then. He wanted to cling on although it was time say bye for now and I had felt that change in energy in the air.

A smooth flight home or flights I should say. Some stories on a 14 hour lay over where I met a nun and an airport employee who’s house I ended up sleeping at instead of the airport overnight till my next flight, but God wants me to skip those stories for now.

Sabryna pulls up her white Chevy to the tiny pickup area outside. We embrace. Just as beautiful as I remember her, even more so. She was extra tan, her skin glowing through her white shorts and cute half top.. She glances over. “I got ya a Chai Latte.” She gestures down to the cup holder by my seat. How did she remember I liked that? God it’s Sabryna! My daughter. Somehow, Ken and Sabryna were connected. One was my sister and the other my daughter years ago. We were back to loving each other. Sometimes there were just short glimpses, but there was a devotion to God that would permeate through their skin when they both glanced at me. Their eyes would light up for moments that were so different from many other encounters that I had with humans now. They both had given me a home. It felt like home to be with both of them.

So now I knew that this was my chapter with Sabryna. You’re staying with me. She looked at me and just assumed. I didn’t even think to ask her. I assumed my car would be my homeless home for however long I was to stay in the OC. My brain is different. It forgets about human stuff a lot. Like food, hiking boots and bug spray. A car is a great place to sleep. It was for me. A bed next to someone I love sounded even better though.

Now at Sabryna’s families, place we spent times at Mother’s market. She introduced me to Shiljat and made me her homemade coconut meat Pineapple and Spirulina smoothie. This woman can cook, and not only that, her whole soul is involved in whatever she would make. I hung out with her mom a bit more intimately than I had been able to when I lived there before.

They were all moving in two weeks. To where Sabryna’s family had no idea. I knew there was a reason why I was coming back to the OC at that exact time.

I’ll tell you when its time.

Okay God. You leave a trail and I follow.

I don’t know what sparked the rest of the story. Maybe it was Sabryna’s tears. Maybe it was her parents moving and becoming potentially houseless in July. But I think it was Rudy. It was the phone calls. the 30 text messages to Sabryna that he sent were mean and possessive. One, two, three, four….

“Does he ever stop calling and leave you be?”

Sabryna looks up at me naked, as she slides on a flowery sun dress almost as beautiful as her tanned complexion. I’d never seen a person get dressed as fast as her each day and somehow look like a super model. She lets out a sigh and comes to lean on the bed next to me “I don’t know Jasmine, I don’t know what the FFFuck I’m doing” She always added an extra fuck emphasis whenever she said that word. fuck with a capital three F’s, especially if she was upset. I laid next to her, as my head was buzzing from being up in the energies. That was one of the enjoyable changes in me. I was up in the Christ energies everyday now, without trying, it was my new baseline. And if I was with another person, often, I would go even higher up in the energies dependent upon how magnetized the person was next to me to wanting God particles to come into their field.

I guess Sabryna wanted a lot of particles that day.

She kept going. “I want to be free.” Her hands are covering her forehead now, as if she was knocking on it to give her a clearer answer to my question. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t know, there are these moments when it’s great… and then other times her voice trails off…… “I FFFucking hate him.” FFFucking…. the three F’s emphasis again. She didn’t answer the question.

This Sabryna/Rudy story was the same story since I’d met her. As she sat laying next to me, I wasn’t hearing from God in my head anything that she didn’t already know. I remember in a similar manner sitting curled up next to Ryelle, having the same conversation about her on and off boyfriend, Chris. Sabryna reminded me so much of Ryelle. I’d bring it up sometimes. I couldn’t help it.

She kept going. “I just don’t know how to shake free for good. It’s like I do so well for a while, and then……. ” She wasn’t sure. her voice trailed off again. Whenever she brought up Rudy, she always sounded so unsure.

Maybe it was that day or a different day. But Sabryna and I heard from from God what I was really doing in her bedroom and why I had flown in to California. Not for my car. It was for her and me, to leave. Heyoka beings strike again. I was here to help her to say goodbye to her old life, (and mine), a large part of that being Rudy. Would it be a permanent plan? Them apart and her leaving? Who knew and none of my business. But I knew I was acting as a catalyst to help out. So, it was permanent….. for that moment. We were to leave Orange County and we were to leave together. July 15th. two weeks away. In her car. Another Wednesday.

A catalyst. So as God, I act as a catalyst?

Yes, God can act as a bridge to the truth creating an opportunity. The truth may be called ugly or beautiful or hard. Whatever needs to “show up” it will with you around because your (energy) field now holds the truth of God. Anything that needs to come up, will, and it presents an opportunity for the people you’re near to turn left (into truth) instead of right. You get it?

What do you mean…….. an opportunity?

With God around in God’s fullness, this creates an obvious opportunity for that person to step into the truth of who they are. Their life’s purpose. It could be one step into truth, or, it could be a giant leap.

I took that in and I felt sad. My thoughts wandered to Albuquerque, and to Shanti.

Albuquerque. It makes you think of Michael.

Yeah. And how and he chose not to leap, he chose to “stay right instead of go left”. He chose not to walk into our life path together, or do this part of our journey together. And now we were both set off into a timeline in our lives that is to walk separately from each other. And I guess, I’m sad. Sometimes, it feels like more pissed off than sad. Maybe more than that I feel….still, how I miss him. Then I’m annoyed that a portion of my thoughts would still go into the silly human game stuff!

There are many pathways to the same thing. Michael made his choices. Remember Peru? Remember what I said about free will?

Always respect another’s free will. I guess easier said than done when you aren’t emotionally invested in outcomes. I’m still struggling with my human desires. No expectations. Gosh human stuff tends to creep up don’t it?

As I sat with those thoughts, that was enough. I decided to focus on what was in front of me. I wasn’t ready for that level of healing and forgiveness when it came to Michael.

Not yet.

Packing Sabryna’s stuff turned into getting rid of a lot shit. I mainly watched. I spent a lot time going to my storage unit which happened to be at the bottom of the hill from her house. I found five of my old journals and my dads old demo tape of Frank Sinatra covers of him singing from 1993. I managed to pack two boxes of my keepsakes, photos and journals and have them sent to Mom in New Jersey. I gathered a box full of the kids toys, and had those sent to Florida. The rest of my belongings I was instructed to leave behind.

I remember the first few nights of laying in Sabryna’s beautiful canopy bed as her room became barer and barer, filled with more boxes. More human thought stuff. fI wasn’t leaving tomorrow I thought to myself, so it was time to reunite with everyone in the OC right? Or at least that’s what I thought I’d be doing. Who? My Course in Miracles group? Karen would be there. They were having a welcome home get together for me at Jackie’s house. That’s so nice. I wondered how Karen would respond to me after the email I sent her. Who else? I sat in my head, I’d see, Conneta, Maryanne, Sandy, Jim, Dave, Jill, Dianne? Lastly, I knew for sure……Ben.

Ben. What would it be like now, hanging out with him that I’m so…. different? Now that we aren’t buddies the way we used to be? What would it be like telling him that I’d gotten married? Did he know already? Maybe Adil told him? Human questions that that seemed to matter, but I knew they didn’t.

I guessed that I’d find out soon enough. I closed my racing mind down for the night that night, put my strobe light on and when to bed.

Goodnight San Clemente.

Published by TheEnlightenedRebel

My story

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