We discussed various ways of doing this. I wondered whether or not Carol should accompany me to Micro Island. We decided that her presence could help me grow a lot faster than if I went alone. She was delighted that I wanted her to come along.
As we were leaving, I told Victor that I was sure I had known him before. He laughed and said that he could remember having been tortured to death by me when I was a fanatical Italian cardinal. He assured me, however, that we had experienced other pleasant life‑times together.
Back in our Alpha room Carol and I bathed together, then stretched out on our huge bed.
We discussed our day, and I mentioned how intriguing it was that I fortuitously translated to a point in time’ where there were so many of my friends or enemies from the past.
She assured me that there was nothing fortuitous about it. She went on to explain that all souls travel in groups, experiencing and re‑experiencing each other in different roles, much the same as players in a road company who fill many different roles in many different plays, in many different towns, before their contract runs out. Yet, they, are always interacting with basically the same players.
I teased her, saying that if she was my fellow player I might stay on the road forever. We rolled across the bed to the rhythm of her laughter.
She asked C.I. to provide Macro contact stimuli as we attempted to free our minds of all micro concern and accept the macrocosmic oneness of all.
Once again I became part of a great river flowing toward the beginning and end of all things-toward the infinite macrocosmic ocean. I flowed on and on, but this time there was an urgency to my movement. Instead of flowing in ever larger channels there seemed to be a constriction that was producing tension and unrest within me. I fought to break the growing pressure of restriction, but the harder I struggled, the greater the pressure grew, until my mind was filled with pain. Finally I screamed aloud, and the Macro stimuli ended along with the constricting pressure within my mind.
I looked at Carol and saw that her eyes were closed but her face was damp with tears, and I realized that my eyes were wet, too.
“What happened?” I asked. “What went wrong?”
Carol opened her eyes and looked at me. Then with a sad, tender smile she said, “I’m sorry, Jon, that I couldn’t help you. It was my anxiety for Macro contact that got in our way again.”
“Someone I used to know once told me that each thing happens in its own time. You can’t push the river,” I teased to lighten the mood.
“Knowing and doing are two very different things!” Carol responded, then added, “In order to apply what we learned this afternoon we must give up all micro desires that we are clinging to for maintenance of our micro egos.”
I shook my head, saying, “That sounds so impossible that I don’t understand how I ever achieved even one Macro contact, much less two of them.”
“You had less to lose then, Jon‑less to let go of,” Carol said. “Now your micro pleasures are greater and they seem to outweigh your pleasure in and desire for Macro contact while at the same time. increasing your anxiety for it!”
“What a dilemma,” I moaned. “The more happiness I find with you and the Macro society, the less willing I am to give it up. The less willing I am to give it up, the less able I am to attain Macro contact. And if I can’t attain more Macro contacts, I won’t grow in awareness and I will lose it all!”
Suddenly we were entwined in one another’s arms passionately devouring each other with kisses in a desperate effort to overcome a possible future of dismal separation and loss. I called to C.I. for Macro stimuli and the mounting resonances of our soul note vibrations filled the room. Now we could focus our minds and, thus, our bodies on Macro immersions, which did not require the giving up of everything and the acceptance of everything, as did Macro contact. Now we could concentrate on joining our two surging, pulsating rivers of desire for each other into one great river of peaceful unity and contentment. We succeeded gloriously.
As we lay resting peacefully together I thought to myself that this Macro immersion, which Carol and I had achieved, was so much more satisfying than any physical union I had ever experienced that I would never give it up voluntarily now that I had found it.
Yet, as I thought this, I heard Carol’s voice in my mind saying, “But, Jon, you know that what we are enjoying is only temporal at best, lasting but a few minutes or hours. What we are both seeking is the infinite, timeless joy of total Macro awareness. Our anxiety regarding the possible loss of what we share only impedes our progress.
“We must move steadily on toward the ability to enjoy today fully without insisting that tomorrow hold the same thing. A foot must give up the security of one rung of a ladder before it can gain the security and achievement of a higher rung.”
I sighed. “I know you’re right, Carol. Every little girl knows that someday she will grow up and stop playing with dolls. Still, it would be difficult for her to imagine ever wanting to give them up.”
“That’s the nicest part, Jon. You don’t ever have to give up anything that you don’t want to give up. It’s just that what you want to give up and what you want to keep changes with each plateau you reach. For example, I know that you no longer ‘want to keep’ having sexual unions with anyone whose soul vibrations are not very close to your own. Yet this is not because anyone told you, you had to give them up. It’s the natural and inevitable evolution of the soul. Only by giving up the unevolved part of our micro load are we able to step one rung higher.”
We kissed again with great longing and a tinge of sadness. Then I gently pushed Carol away from me and withdrew from her until we were separated by several feet. We lay for a while just looking at each other. Finally I said, “Carol, I’m not ready to give up my feelings for you. I want to possess you and cling to you, and I realize that these feelings are micro, not Macro.”
“I feel the same way,” she said. “Never before in this lifetime have I felt so intensely about anyone. But then, that’s evolutionary, too. Each love we share prepares us to more fully experience the better one which lies ahead if we just evolve enough to be willing to take the risk of loving again and again as long as we live.”
“It was two lifetimes ago that we lived together on that South Pacific island and loved each other as we love now,” I recalled.
“You’re thinking that if you hadn’t remembered that past life your feelings for me wouldn’t have grown so intense, aren’t you?” Carol said.
“Yes,” I said, “but I’m very happy that I did remember you, for that was the most enjoyable lifetime I have yet reviewed, in spite of its tragic ending.”
“Oh, Jon,” she said, “I love you so much, but I can remember a lifetime many ages ago which I shared with a twin soul, and I know that someday I will reunite with him just as someday you will reunite with Lea.”
I thought about what she had just said and then I smiled.
“You’re right, as always,” I said. “When I’m with Lea I know that she represents ultimate completion for me. I know that I love her with every vibration of my soul, my mind, and my body. But, Carol, I also know that I love you with a love that is equal in ultimate value, if not in ultimate nature.”
“It is this very problem,” Carol replied, “that must be resolved in order to attain the highest levels of awareness.”
“You mean,” I said, “that Lea has already solved this problem?”
“Of course,” Carol nodded. “She wouldn’t be aquamarine if she hadn’t been able to give up all micro desires many times. Certainly to be able to give you to me so that you may obtain Macro immersion and Macro contacts with me, not herself, demonstrates very highly evolved awareness and balance.”
Now Carol closed the distance between us and was once more nestled in my arms. “Lea can remember,” she continued, “lifetimes with you that you have not yet remembered. It’s significant that when she was guiding you through the pages of your akashic record, that is,
your memory records of the past, she did not select a lifetime which the two of you had shared.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Carol answered, “Don’t you realize that if she had shown you only the happy moments of completion between the two of you, there would have been no micro challenges to overcome?”
“You mean,” I said, “like my problem of giving up my desires for you?”
“Yes,” she replied. “After all, if she had helped you to relive only moments you had shared with her, you would not have remembered your past life with me and you would not have this overwhelming desire for me.”
“My God!” I exclaimed. “She knew that she was intensifying my desires for you. She deliberately set up this problem.”
“Let’s more accurately say that you set it up in order to help yourself overcome the difficulty you have‑in letting go of micro situations and relationships,” Carol answered. “Lea knew that if she didn’t help you overcome this problem you would not be able to achieve level‑three awareness and you would be separated for at least another lifetime. And remember, she can recall the joy of Macro immersion with you, a twin soul. Yet she chose to give this up so that you might attain a greater goal‑union with her and the Macro society for the rest of this lifetime.
“And if I don’t achieve level‑three awareness,” I responded “she’ll have sacrificed herself for nothing.”
“Not for nothing, Jon. For growth.
“And not herself. Just a few days, weeks, or months of one lifetime. She knows that there are many more-or, converting it from our simultaneous‑time concept to your linear‑time concept‑there will be many more. Besides, every failure is a success, and I’m sure that Lea doesn’t forget that very often.”
I nodded. “Even if I fail, she’ll be able to accept it as bringing me that much closer to success. However, unless I have attained a rather high level of awareness, I won’t be able to accept my failure in spite of the fact that I intellectually know I should.”
“Tonight as we go to sleep,” Carol suggested, “let’s ementally reaffirm our plan for our growth.”
“All right,” I said. “I understand that we get what we really inwardly want most, so I guess it makes good sense to be specific about our intent.”
“First,” Carol began, “we will be joyously accepting of what is, knowing that it is our own perfect creation.
“Second, we will, in our daily activity, walk with an open hand‑that is, we will ‘hold on to’ nothing.
“Third, we will accept every opportunity for growth and do our best to learn the lesson it offers.
“Fourth, we will live constantly in the joy of our macrocosmic oneness with all‑or, stated within your concept of time‑all that is, all that was, and all that ever will be.
“Let’s keep these intentions, these paths, lightly and joyously within our essence as we drift off to sleep.”
As I was falling asleep, I hoped that Carol was having better success than I in convincing myself that I had the strength and understanding to resolve our problem. I wanted it resolved, but I didn’t want to pay the price. No matter how I argued with myself, I couldn’t give up my anxiety about losing Carol.
Finally, exhausted from the struggle, I fell asleep.
CHAPTER 11: Neda
I awakened to the sound of Karl closing the door as he left for his class: It was early, only 7:45. I lay back in bed and wished that Carol was beside me. I wished that I had the power to pull her through time 174 years to the now of my apartment.
I had to smile at the thought of what a sensation Carol would make if I took her to the student union‑her magnificent six‑foot‑three‑inch body, her face of incredible classic beauty, and her tremendous joy and vitality would really stir things up. Talk about riots! I could see micro man fighting savagely just to get close to her.
And how would I feel? Well, I thought, from my limited micro perspective, I wouldn’t want to share her with anyone, so I wouldn’t even let her step out of the apartment!
I finally decided that it was a good thing I couldn’t transport Carol to 1976 because 1976 wasn’t ready for her, and while I was in 1976 I probably wouldn’t be ready for her, either.
This last thought made me wonder what would happen when Carol and I went to Micro Island. Of course, the inhabitants would be used to seeing members of the Macro society, but they often tried to kill these visitors. How would I react if someone tried to kill Carol? I didn’t have to think very long about my answer‑I would fight and even kill, if I had to, in order to protect her.
Oh, that’s great, I thought, now I’m going to Micro Island to perform like a medieval knight errant fighting for the life and honor of his fair lady.
I shook my head in amused frustration. Where Carol was concerned, I was developing some very micro feelings. I decided that I had better practice my Macro powers with micro people today and see if I could do better, than I had at the supermarket. Maybe I could learn how to comfortably deal with micro people before I went to Micro Island. After all, 1976 offered me an ample supply to practice on!
By the time I was through eating I had decided that when I finished writing in my journal I would go looking for threatening situations and see if I could learn to handle them.
Three hours later I was sitting at a table in the seemingly always crowded student union cafeteria drinking hot chocolate and trying to telepathically tune in to the people about me.
At first I picked up the usual micro concerns such as fear about semester . exams, excitement over this evening’s basketball game or date, money worries, or frustrations at not being more successful with others. This last frustration was often sexual, particularly from the table full of men near me who were wistfully eyeing the girls as they passed by. It was their scornful sneers at one of the girls who passed that caused me to look up to see the object of their contempt.
She was a tall, thin girl, so gaunt that she appeared almost emaciated. Her hair was long and straight without any luster and hung in untidy disarray about her shoulders. Her face with its bony nose was one of the most unappealing I had ever seen. Her clothes were too loose, too long, and so nondescript that they seemed to hang on her like burlap bags.
I reached out and made contact with her mind and quickly withdrew. Never had I experienced such sadness, such misery, such bitter hopelessness. I shook my head to clear it of the repugnance, then looked at her again.
She was sadly looking about for an empty table where she could be somewhat away from others. It was close to noon and almost all the tables were filled except my small one, which had space for another person across from me. I decided to have her sit at my table. I reached out with my mind and willed her to look at me. She did and I smiled at her, gesturing at the empty seat across from me. She looked behind her and to her side to see if I wasn’t addressing someone else, then looked at me with a bewildered and pathetically uncertain gaze. I sent out a flood of warm, confident, accepting thoughts. The change in her expression was slow in coming, but when it came I saw the beginnings of an incredulous look of hope.
I got up as she approached my table and helped her with the tray upon which she was precariously balancing a bowl of soup and a glass of milk. She thanked me in a low whisper, seated herself quickly, and proceeded to occupy herself with her soup, using it almost as a barrier to hide behind.
I continued to bombard her mind with the most loving and accepting thoughts that I could generate.
After about five minutes of my intense struggle to overcome her mental despair and chronic suspiciousness I began to achieve some success. She was feeling much more comfortable with me and was beginning to steal occasional glances at my face. It was then that I decided to try talking with her.
“I’m Jon Lake,” I said. “I’m working on my doctorate in psychology.”
She looked up at me with a startled expression. I could feel her uncertainty as to how to respond. I smiled my most engaging smile and said, “I
guess you’re not sure how to take my talking to you when we’ve never met before. I couldn’t help feeling that you were lonely, and I can remember feeling that way myself.”
She bobbed her head at me and then stared intently at her empty soup bowl.
I reached deep within her mind and discovered a great longing to respond to me but an equally great fear of being rejected or looking foolish‑those two universal fears of micro man. I continued to beam positive, confident, and accepting thoughts to her.
I wondered what her name was and willed her to tell me. There was a short struggle, then she spoke. “My name is Neda Cricksley,” she whispered in such a low voice that if I hadn’t already picked her name up telepathically I’d have had to ask her to repeat it.
“Neda,” I said, “I like that name and I like you, too.”
After I said this I realized that for some reason I did like this girl. I had gotten beneath her unattractive surface and made contact with a part of her soul which was very satisfying to me. Without thinking, I reached out and captured one of her thin bony hands.
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