Moondance

by Black, Karen M.

  Althea looked out Ivana’s window into the sunshine and flowers beyond. The scene she had imagined had felt so real. If it was true, and there was such a thing as karma and past lives, what had happened with Kevin and Tori would make sense. Why she had carried so much guilt and was terrified of her own anger would make sense. Not only that, but her vehement objections to becoming a mother would make sense.

  Even if the memory wasn’t literally real, it still made sense.

  Simply because it felt right.

  chapter 70

  The present

  ALTHEA PARKED IN A space close to the exit. They were early. Even so, the parking lot was filling up.

  “Are you ready?” Celia asked.

  “No. But I’m going anyway.” She knew what she was doing was right. Anger didn’t work, running away didn’t work, pretending to rise above it didn’t work. Make a new choice. That’s why she was here.

  As they drove, Celia kept the conversation going. The last fifteen minutes, they drove in silence and Althea felt the tension rising inside her. She had no idea it would be this hard. Her hands were cold, her stomach was a tight knot, radiating into an uneasy sensation down her legs. Her heart thudded. She had to keep moving. If she stopped, she wasn’t sure if she could get going again.

  “Just keep me going in the right direction, okay? I don’t know how I’m going to be.”

  “Just do what you need to do, Al. Don’t worry about me, I’m here for you.”

  Althea got out of the car on rubbery legs and they walked across the parking lot toward the church. As she approached it, she remembered being here before, with different people, on different occasions. She gripped the iron railing on the way up the stairs, and each step felt like three. Her legs morphed from rubber to lead.

  She forced herself to look up as she entered, the melancholy notes of an organ echoing off the cathedral ceilings. Kevin’s mother and father stood in the front row of the church. Althea remembered when she had disliked Kevin’s mother so much that she didn’t even want to look at her. Today, she looked fragile. She glanced by Althea, distracted. Althea looked straight ahead and kept walking.

  The casket at the front of the church was open. Tori was paler in death than she was in life, though her features remained just as fine. Her hair was longer than Althea remembered, fanning out all around her. Tori had drowned while running in a triathlon. Just like that. She could feel Celia standing behind her, her hand on elbow.

  “I’m okay.” Althea stepped forward, and looked into her childhood friend’s face, reflecting on a friendship that had gone so wrong. Yet one that had helped her understand the most elusive shadows of herself. Years ago, she had worked with Ivana to forgive Tori and Kevin for betraying her and, more importantly, she had forgiven herself for what she believed was her role in previous lifetimes together. But now, three years later, Althea had never anticipated this ending.

  Althea stood over Tori’s casket and sobbed. She cried for Tori, a life cut short. She cried for those that loved her. She cried for her own heart that had been ripped open again and again, self-punishment for deeds she believed she had committed lifetimes ago. She cried because she missed her friend, had missed her every day since her heart had broken, and because she had never had a chance in person to say goodbye.

  Her tears dried. It’s over now, she thought, no more and Althea opened her coat, and removed the letter it had taken her days to write. She placed it on Tori’s heart and turned away. She could feel the eyes on her as she scanned the room.

  She approached Kevin, and stood facing him. His eyes never left hers, amber on a white, translucent canvas, reddened by pain, widened by surprise. She kissed him on the cheek, and his face crumpled. He took her hand and she hugged him tight for a moment, while he buried his head in her shoulder.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered. “For everything.” A little brown-haired, olive-skinned girl stood beside them, looking up. She stepped away from Kevin and touched the girl’s hair. Tori looked back at her. The anxiety she had felt receded, and was replaced by expanding lightness in her chest. She turned to find Celia smiling at her, tears in her eyes.

  The service began. Althea grieved for her friend, for lost opportunities, for the unpredictability of people’s hearts, and she grieved for herself, who had carried this wound in her heart for so long, a wound which overshadowed everything else that she was. Guilt so deep that she had spent lifetimes running away from it. She looked up through her tears, and could see Albert smiling at her.

  “How are you wee one?”

  “It’s hard.”

  “I know.”

  “Is she here with us?”

  “Yes she is, but a little further out. She can’t communicate with this plane yet. But she’s here. Where do you feel it?” Althea moved her hand to her heart.

  “That’s my girl. Tori, you, Kevin, you’ve all known each other before. All of you have played a number of roles.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s really easy for us to think of ourselves as victims. Not as nice to imagine ourselves as the perpetrator. To end the cycle, it needs not only to be balanced. It needs to be forgiven.”

  “Are we complete now? Is this it?”

  “Oh, you and the souls that are Tori and Kevin will be together again. But now it can be in a different way. You’ve ended this cycle. Do you understand? “

  “I know.”

  Albert moved closer. Althea could feel his warmth. “How much do you remember, wee one?”

  “About what?”

  “About the between times? Before.”

  “The dreamtimes?”

  “Yes, to you, to the dreamtimes.” Althea thought about it. A space behind her eyes opened.

  “My dreams of the dance. My writing.”

  “Yes.”

  “And of Him.”

  “Of you.”

  “Yes. And of my choice.”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember bits and pieces. This is part of my choice.”

  “Yes. Your task in this lifetime is to find strength in vulnerability. To fearlessly express your emotions in order to heal yourself. To embrace your own power.”

  “Scorpio again.”

  “Right. Everything on earth must be done in a balanced way. Love given, love received.”

  “Emotion aligned with intention, aligned with action.”

  “You got it.”

  “It closes the gap.”

  “Whenever we do something different in the face of a similar situation, energy shifts making room for something new. With this action, with future actions, there’s a shift of energy inside of you, and that influences what you experience outside. Like you’re a different lock looking for a different key.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “You know the answer to that one.”

  “I write it down.”

  “Yes.”

  “Haven’t been doing much of that lately.”

  “Do you now know why?”

  “It has to do with this?”

  “Partly, yes.”

  “I had to experience this, to take a new action, so that I can feel it and write about it because ...” Althea paused. “Because this is part of my ending.”

  “Right. You needed to stop writing long enough to create this opportunity, to take action, to experience the shift. And it doesn’t stop when you leave here. You’re living your ending now, Althea, every day, with every action.”

  “What I choose and what I write is connected to what I experience in my life.”

  “Yes.”

  “The dancers represented the emotional part of me I couldn’t face. Like my moon in Pisces. And like Scorpio, my soul path. This time, instead of fighting it, I’ll write it down.”

  “Yes.”

  “And the green-eyed man ... was an invitation to know and to love the male part of myself.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what I want in the future —”

&nb
sp; “Can also be created this way. You’re open to the dreamtime, Althea, imagine it, feel it, write it down, take action, observe the results, feel it, take action again. It’s a powerful way to create your life. You’re also connected to the earth, and you’re here to enjoy it. That’s true integration for you. Through the passion of water, create the tangible security of earth.

  “Taurus and Scorpio again. Earth and water. Security and emotion. The male and the female in balance.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay I get it.”

  “What?” Celia whispered. Albert was gone, though she knew he’d always be close. She remembered everything he said. She felt a pull to go home and write.

  “I’m okay.” Althea took her hand and squeezed. “I’m ready to go.”

  chapter 71

  “HOW’S HE DOING?” ALTHEA asked.

  “He’s grumbly,” Phyllis said.

  “I can imagine that Vince wouldn’t be too good with doctors —”

  “I told him that by the time he’s healthy, I’m going to be out on psychiatric leave.” Althea laughed. “Anyway, they said that he started treatment early enough, so that’s a very good sign. So how are things with you?”

  “Sophie’s not doing well. I’m hanging in. But I’m finishing Ivana’s internship program this February. Doing the post-grad course. I can’t believe it’s been three years. And when it’s over, just imagine. I may be the first MBA who’s also a karmic astrologer!”

  “You’re probably right about that.”

  Three years before, just after Althea met Ivana, Sophie went into the hospital for the first time and Althea began to work regularly with Ivana. It was Ivana who introduced her to Phyllis and Vince. When Sophie went into remission, Althea enrolled in Ivana’s internship program to become a karmic astrologer, accepted a job at White Light, and moved in with Sophie.

  “You starting a practice?”

  “Definitely — Ivana has already started to send me referrals. I am also working with William.” Ivana’s husband William was a psychologist who specialized in hypnotic regression, assisting clients in recalling traumatic past lives. For Althea, her first recall had been spontaneous and explosive.

  “Great. How about your love life?”

  “Next question.”

  “I can take a hint. And your writing?”

  After joining White Light, Althea got up the courage to read what she wrote on the beach in Portugal. What she had written was sensuous and surreal, a rush of feeling, a magnification of the senses. As she read, a tingling sensation moved up her body. Her words were intense and they scared her.

  She gave her journal to Ivana to read.

  “What you’ve written is Scorpio. Powerful, positive Scorpio.”

  “But what does it mean? I wrote it and I have no idea what it means.”

  “I think you do.” You know. As Ivana spoke, something inside her stirred. She recalled the words from Michelle’s well-worn book: “The Hanged Man represents a reversal of how life is imagined, an induction to the otherworld ... sometimes intimations of an alternate reality.” The Hanged Man was ruled by Pisces, same as her moon which represented her emotions. At that time, she did not understand the full implications of the card. Now, almost three years later, she did.

  Althea then began the laborious task of creating a fictional story that wove together the disparate scenes she had created in Portugal. She created astrological charts for her main characters. Each day she sat down to write, she fought the fear rising inside her. Each day, she wrote anyway.

  “Phyllis, I’m so discouraged. I’ve been blocked since last September. At first I thought it was because of Sophie, and because I was so busy at work, but now I know it’s more than that. This week off was supposed to be about writing, but Sophie got worse, I ended up getting sick, then a friend came to town and I went to an old friend’s funeral. Remember Tori?”

  “Oh Althea —”

  “Yeah. Anyway, I’ve been stuck, but I’ve figured out why now, and I’m ready to start again. That’s why I’m calling. What do you think about me taking a month off to finish this thing. Stacy can handle things when I’m gone. This way, I’d also have more time to spend with Sophie.”

  “Althea, I know Vince would agree with me on this. I think it’s a great idea.”

  chapter 72

  THE FIRST DAY OF her month off, Althea got up early and went to the hospital. She ran into Helen on the way to Sophie’s room.

  “Our girl had a good night. She even managed to look cross at me as I cleaned her up this morning.” Althea put on her mask and entered Sophie’s room.

  “I’ve got some news.” Sophie blinked once.

  • • •

  ALTHEA LIT THREE BEESWAX candles, and sat at her computer, recalling Ivana’s words from just a few days before.

  “The idea is to write down your intention. But not from a feeling of need, or from longing or sadness, from a feeling of gratitude, as if it has already happened. Feel it first, imagine it. Then write it down in the present, as if you’ve already received it. Write about who you are, your life, how you make a living, your home. Everything.”

  “I find that scary.”

  “Well, it’s no wonder. We spend most of our lives longing for something we don’t have, or attracting what frightens us the most. This is about consciously creating your life. For you, it’s pulling together everything you’ve learned and worked toward over the past three years.”

  “I know. Creating intention.”

  “Don’t you believe you’re ready?”

  “I do believe I’m ready. I’m just acknowledging my fear. It won’t stop me.”

  Althea also remembered the first time she and Ivana had talked about soul mates.

  “Soul mates are those that we’ve known during many lifetimes, have had many karmic contracts with, and with whom we have resolved conflicts. Marriage partners may or may not be soul mates, though they will be a soul contract. With true soul mates, there is no struggle. What’s left over is love,” Ivana had said.

  “How do we recognize one?”

  “From the deep level of comfort we experience in their presence. Even when there are differences, there’s a commitment to work it out. Karmic contracts are more competitive and draining. But no less important, because we learn so much from them.”

  “But don’t the best relationships come with effort?” Althea had asked.

  “Well, with effort, I believe that karmic relationships can transform into soul-mated ones.”

  “Then why don’t more people find their soul mates?”

  “Well, sometimes one person is willing to do the work required to resolve their differences, and the other isn’t. But I think most people have soul mates and don’t realize it. Soul mates aren’t just intimate love relationships. Soul mates can also be a parent, a sibling or friend. Even pets.” Althea thought about Princess. She also thought about Michelle and Celia.

  “What will my soul mate be like?”

  “Your long-term relationship will be a friendship, which will also be very passionate, like Scorpio. There also might be a creative connection.” Althea had smiled. Like the King of Cups.

  “When will I meet him?”

  “We meet our soul mates when we’re on our soul path.”

  In her office, three years after this conversation took place, Althea typed: “I’m writing down my greatest vision for my life as I now understand it in order to assist the universe and my guides in helping me create this reality in the future.” Althea typed a letter of intention, describing her life in the present. She described her writing, getting published, how her writing touched others, how she made a living, her homes, her relationships, how she wanted to give back. As she wrote, she could feel an upward pull, an expansion. Feel it as if you’ve already received it.

  “Have you written down what you’re looking for in a partner?” Ivana had asked. Althea had squirmed.

  “Finishing my book is my priority righ
t now. I want to stay open, but don’t want to get obsessed about it. I have an internet ad up.”

  “Well, okay. But how can your soul create him if you don’t express what you want?”

  “Okay, I get what you mean.”

  “Write it all down. Everything you are looking for ... great sex, friendship, everything.”

  “Okay.”

  Finished with the letter, Althea created a table, with the headings Physical, Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual. Althea filled in the table, describing the partner she envisioned. In the same document, she typed a description of their relationship: the holidays they went on, their sex life, how they spent their weekends.

  Finished, she printed the chart and the letter, and put the pages in a metal bowl. Downstairs, Sophie’s solarium was cool and silent. Cradling the metal bowl under her arm, she stepped outside onto the grass, which was covered in white crystals created by the late-autumn frost. A little bit of magic, she thought. The universe is magic. We create our own realities. With our thoughts, our feelings, our emotions. With every choice we make. Every day.

  Her breath misted against the black sky as she walked across Sophie’s patio, past the willows, to the path.

  The crunch of her steps echoed in the silence, awakening a memory. When she thought she heard footsteps behind her, she turned, but she was alone. Five minutes later, she stepped into the circular clearing. The small lake extended before her, like indigo glass, breaths of air weaving quilts on its surface, welcoming her as the sun set and the moon rose. A string of lights winked on the far shore, completing a circle, her body part of the illusion, her feet firm on the lake’s circumference. The soft gurgles of waves lapped. A duck moved close, and as she sensed it, it took off, its wings ruffling the water’s surface.

  Althea removed her shoes, the sand cold and soft under her feet. She walked along the narrow beach, observing the setting sun as it cast a distorted shadow of the swing set tucked into the trees. Come play.