Luzca, Alice and I...and preparing the way

Yesterday, I purchased together a piece each of moldavite, aragonite star cluster and sphelerite. While I am still working on Alice's book, I have come to embrace my desire to live as a writer. I am grateful to a member of the London-based African-Caribbean healer's group who offered a perspective that helped me seize and own that truth for my life.

In the meantime, though, another book I have wanted to write for two years is also being developed simultaneously. This week, on Tuesday night, I was given the name and a few details of it's main character, Luzca.

The following is an email sent to a buddy about it all:

On the moldavite, which comes from Bohemia (Czech Republic):"Because its energies are so powerful it's a good idea to keep it near you a lot when you first get one and to meditate with it regularly. Whenever moldavite is used in meditation it is recommended that a grounding stone: black tourmaline, hematite, tiger's eye, smoky quartz, red jasper, or obsidian, be placed by the feet for grounding purposes.

Special warning: You will find in time that more and more things seem to be unnecessary: the relationship you're hanging on to because it's comfortable and you don't like to be lonely, for example. You may find it more and more important to be honest with both yourself and others."


And it suddenly becomes so fascinating and apparent why I had to get all three together. Why those three. I read up on the aragonite--it's grounding, especially emotionally. And then combine it with the truth-telling spheler-something. It all adds up.

What is most fascinating to me is the way I get prepared in advance for these major shifts. Watching that particular movie, In America, and having what was really a rather violent reaction to it. I was actually hyper-ventilating. I wasn't afraid of it, but I was alarmed.

Did you ever see Amistad? The dark, tall and entirely masculine...just found his image
djimon hounsou
...

This is from the movie I watched that night. The girls family lives in the same run-down complex. They are immigrants living in New York. The part in the movie that beat me up was when her father is confronting his demons and fears and, in a fit, accuses Djaimon's character of being in love with his wife. By the way, Djimon's character is such a contrast...he is shown angry and yelling and then at other times, gentle and tender.

Right at that moment in the movie, being accused of having an interest in the Irish wife, Djimon responds with...."No, I am in love with you." He speaks it strongly and softly. Then he builds up to a crescendo of emotion adding, "And I am in love with your woman. I am in love with your girls. I am in love, even, with your anger. I am in love with anything that is alive." By this point he is screaming with a depth that only such a raw hunk of African masculinity can pull forth from a human diaphragm.

And my soul shivered, then it quivered. Then I hyperventilated and went back to the time as a child when I longed to be held. Something about the vibration in his voice, I don't doubt it. What event in his own life he pulled from to carry the scene, I can't imagine. Whatever it was, it came through loud and clear, and my heart resonated with the despair, anguish and hopeless resignation. And it literally shook the injury out of me. That was the exorcism.

And when it was all over, some ten to fifteen minutes later, after needing to imagine myself swimming deeply in the Caribbean, embraced, held and caressed by the salt waters, I was able to recall the reality of my need, desire and singular purpose to experience love at a soul and spiritual level I had ceased to acknowledge consciously or experientially.

The scene ends with the Irishman calmly, quietly announcing, "You're dying. I'm sorry." And all the clues that he has aids are confirmed.

The very next day, yesterday, the universe stirs me up to visit the farmer's market to buy those three stones.

Within a few hours after placing the moldavite in a jacket pocket, I am excited about coming home to attend to Luzca's story. I know details are coming. I know I'll receive them. Hours later when I arrive home, I walk in the door and wish I had long, wide sheets of paper to do a story board. I've never done one before. I've seen images of them, maybe in movies or on a special about screenwriters or story-editors.

I decide it is so necessary for the story-plotting I'm about to, that I'm willing to turn around, get right back in the car and drive to an office supply. As soon as I turn the nob, I remember that just before our staff meeting, a couple hours earlier, our school secretary told me the easel paper I ordered had arrived and that I should put in my car to take back to my classroom, at a different site from where we meet. The universe had supplied the exact paper I needed. As usual, I didn't notice it until it made sense, until I knew what to do with the support.

And I set there with the writing buddy crystal I wrote about earlier, the moldavite and some others and let details about Luzca, her grandmother, her great-grandmother and great-great grandmother come to me. I realized after I sent you that email about channeling Luzca's character that this is story I said I wanted to write at least two years ago, after I'd done the DNA mapping.

The time it takes to prepare the way...