I have come to realize that this “soul calling” doesn't have to be some grand "master plan" or "life purpose." It may be just a “now moment” gut feeling, possibly the mastering of simply living in the present moment. In order to hear that now moment calling, I’ve learned from my “Human Design” study to actually take my consciousness down to my gut, to my hara - a place about an inch below the navel, and allow a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ response to come. And just listen. "Should I go?" The answer is immediate - loud and clear: “No, stay. Don’t do anything,” or “Yes, Go now!.”
Teddy Bear on a Kentucky coal pile overlooking Virginia
When I planned this trip my destination was Montreal. I was excited about going there, and truly looked forward to the time I would spend with my French/Canadian friends. I got all the way to Detroit, and when I thought it was time to continue on to Montreal, my gut said, “No. Don’t go. It’s not time.” I have no idea what that meant. There was no other warning or communication that told me otherwise, just the following voice inside that said “Go south,” followed by the question, “Is it best for me to go south?” My gut said “Yes.” I listened. The innocence was not corrupted by “I should,” or “how will these dear Canadian people feel if I don’t show up” and a whole bunch of other stories I could make up.
I called my friend Mary in Kauai and told her I was heading to Asheville. She sent a message out to her “Circle of One,” and received an immediate response from Buffy and Jimmy, welcoming me to their home in Maggie Valley, about 22 miles from Asheville and not that far from Cherokee, the location of my novel Two Crows. This was the perfect hub point to explore the whole Asheville area from. Buffy and Jimmy proved to be wonderful hosts; their country home upstairs room was private and spacious - it was the ideal and perfect place for me to be. I love this country and without reservation planned to spend a second week, at least. I was invited to stay as long as I want - for $100 a week.
I woke up Friday morning with this strong voice in my head saying, “It’s time to go!” I asked my gut and the answer was “Yes. You need to go.” For a moment I felt panic. I didn’t know where to go. I was comfortable here and didn’t want to leave. I sat up and asked myself, “Where do I go?” The word "June" came into my mind.
June was a neighbor and good friend of mine in Anchorage, Alaska when my son Alan was born in 1977. That was 33 years ago. June was originally from Georgia and later moved from Alaska to Seattle around the same time I moved from Alaska to Kauai - in 1990. I remember being at her house in Seattle when Bill Clinton was elected President in November 1991. I haven’t seen her in 19 years and had no idea where she was or what she was doing. Friday morning I emailed my brother Rick and asked if he knew where June was, and how to get in touch with her. His immediate response was, “She’s in Chattanooga, Tennessee and this is her phone number.” That’s a four hour drive from Maggie Valley.
Now, I have to back up a bit. There’s a story here that illustrates the perfection of “letting go,” of being in innocence, and the miracle all wrapped up in that allowing. Jimmy had previously offered to teach me how to shoot a rifle. Friday night would be the last opportunity before my departure on Saturday. I’m surprised, but not surprised in being a pacifist, surprised that I went a whole lifetime and never fired a rifle. I pretty much figured that I perfected the rifle in many other lifetimes and freed myself from having to do this ever again. But, I’m letting all that silliness go, and in my innocence I was like a kid with a new gun, “Yeah, what do I shoot?”
Maya Warrior 300BC Detroit Institute of Art
Jimmy showed me how to load and fire. We placed a box about 75 feet away, and in the middle of the box was a little black felt pen circle, with about a 3/4 inch white bullseye. I loaded the single bullet and fired one shot - it hit about 3 inches from the circle. Then I said, “OK, I got it.” I aimed and fired again. Looking at the box Jimmy said, “It looks like you missed the whole box,” then, “Wait a minute, look here.” My bullet went right through the black felt tip line, 3/8 of an inch from direct center. Past life memory? Anyway, it was a bit difficult to do, since it was very hard and painful for me to lift the rifle in the first place, with my torn rotator cuff shoulder muscle.
After that Jimmy brought out his bow and arrows and showed me how that worked - firing four arrows right at the bullseye. He was good. I wanted to do it too, but couldn’t physically pull the bow string. We talked about my torn rotator cuff and I told him that I really want to find someone to help me fix it - now. I’m tired of being in pain and limited to what I can do physically.
Immediately after that conversation with Jimmy, and my expressed desire to find a way to fix my shoulder, I called June and she answered. The last time I spoke with her she was hanging wallpaper for a living. I had no idea what she was doing now. She told me that she has been married for the last nine years, and they have a big house south of Chattanooga. So here it is . . . what happens when we let go and listen . . . when we allow ourselves to be “divinely guided.” (which is a whole other conversation)
Linking innocence with direct manifestation:
June now owns and runs two body therapy clinics. She not only had a room for me to stay at in their country mountain home, she has all the best lazar and sonic equipment and massage therapists, and sauna’s and so on, to help me heal my rotator cuff right now. I was invited to stay as long as it takes to heal.
I’m on my way to Chattanooga, Tennessee. Blessings, Dakan
I love writing stories and would love to hear yours
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