Month: April 2014

Tramp

lizaaitken

She kept her head down as she climbed the steps to the house. It was most definitely daylight now, the moon had retired and the sun had climbed high above the block in the distance. The postman was watching, she could feel his eyes upon her but she kept her gaze ahead, she wasn’t in the mood for any fuss today, it had been a long night. The door to the flats opened as the neighbour downstairs left for the day, she slipped in unnoticed.

She wondered to herself what he would say when she returned home, she had been missing a while now. Would he care, would he have noticed she wasn’t there beside him, comforting him, as was her way when she was home.

He was still sleeping as she entered the flat. Slowly, like silk, she crept towards the bed. He stirred for just a moment as she settled beside him and then back to his dreams.

She purred loudly.

Bluebell Woods

lizaaitken

It’s beautiful here in the woods, just like I remember. I’m walking along the path through the trees. I have to watch for the bumps in the path where the roots of the trees are lifting the earth, but it’s just wonderful. I feel privileged to be here in this very special place. If I look ahead I can see the light shining at the end of the trees, it’s probably where the sunlight hits the earth but it looks almost mystical from here where I stand.

Bluebells cover the ground all around for as far as I can see, a carpet of purple and blue. To my left I see a couple of figures collecting the flowers, when I look closer I realise I know them, I am the child, the other person my grandmother. I remember how happy the child is, how happy they both are, how special that day was. I have stored it perfectly in my memory all these years to return and visit it again today. I hear my other self giggle and wonder where that childhood innocence went. I believe today I must have reclaimed it as I managed to get here even if only in my sleep.

The trees that line the path bend gently in the breeze as if to greet me, leaves cover the path around the roots of the trees. Although discarded now at the end of their days they are still part of the trees that bore them and still remain part of the scene. They will eventually rot and feed the trees through the earth, the cycle of life.

I walk away from the couple, away from myself and away from the path to the left of the scene, towards what looks like a gentle hue in the distance. Where, it would seem, the sunlight has not discovered yet today. It looks peaceful and magical. There is a mist above the bluebells like early dawn and if I look really close I can see tiny specks like shimmering dust. I sit in this place for a while, I feel protected and safe, I think about my life.

I know I’m dreaming but also know I’m in control, I can create here, I can direct the outcome. I consider going over to the child and helping her collect bluebells, tell her she will remember the day forever. I could advise her on her future, tell her the pitfalls out there for her but I won’t because she needs to learn for herself, like me. I just watch contentedly, as she lives her special day, from the background.

I know I can’t stay but it feels so good to be here, I must go but I want to keep something from today. I look down to the floor of the woods to see what I can find, a stone catches my eye nestled in the soft grass. I pick it up and hold it in the centre of my palm to have a good look. The stone is green and it shimmers slightly, if I look closely it seems I can see inside, there are patterns beneath the surface that tell a story. I will take the stone home to remember my journey here. I slip it into my pocket, take one last look at the child with her grandmother and close my eyes.

I’m back in my bedroom, the birds are whistling in the sunshine and I can hear the engine of the school bus in the distance. It draws closer and stops outside to let my daughter off. She runs up the path with her arms behind her back, hiding something. When she reaches the porch where I’m waiting to greet her she produces a bunch of bluebells she has collected today on a nature walk. I hold her tight for a moment and kiss her tiny face in gratitude. We go into the house together to put the flowers in water. We put them on display on the window ledge, just next to the shiny green stone.

Love

lizaaitken

I’m trying to work out love, what love is and how it feels. I want to describe it in its real sense. I want to be able to recognise the feeling of love in written words, I want to know love so that I can share love.

I think I love, I know I love but it is so very hard to put the feeling into words.

I know that love is unconditional in as much as you don’t require anything back. You are happy to give love, happiness and joy without needing anything for yourself. What you get back is what you give yourself through the actions of giving your love, giving of yourself, as to give love out fills you up with renewed love inside. I’m sure that makes no sense, probably as it has taken me so long to get here myself. I have only just started to think about what love means although I think I have been practicing love for a lifetime.

Most of my life I think I may have measured love by what you got back, or how it has been reciprocated. That’s not to say I’m not kind, but confused for a while. My mum does not agree with this, we have argued over it, but she loves me.

I don’t think you can be lonely when you love, because to love is to link into another being or cause with your whole soul. When you connect in that way you are not alone in spirit even if you are in a physical sense. I’m not alone even when I am, in fact I just don’t like having too many people around me now, I enjoy myself, I like me. It takes so long to reach this place, but when you’re here you wonder why you didn’t arrive earlier.

I think love must be connected to the stomach in some way, I know the heart usually represents love but I just don’t feel it there, I feel it in my stomach. I have tried to feel love in my heart, maybe if told to open my heart but it just feels empty. I think my heart might be in my stomach or maybe I have got love wrong. I feel the people I love in my stomach, it’s a warmth when I think about them or I’m happy for them and if I’m worried my stomach constricts and feels hollow. I wonder if there is a connection with overeating in the world, filling the gap with food instead of love, not recognizing the feeling of love. I can see, if I think of it in this way, why it would be terribly easy to love food, no wonder diets don’t work.

Infatuation, falling in love is so much easier to describe. The butterflies in the pit of your stomach, the beat of your heart, the sexual fulfillment, quickness of breath and those wistful dreams. But that is not the love I’m talking about here, I’m trying to describe the deep love we feel for another that is not reliant on our own fulfillment.

If I could describe love in a picture I would draw a circle.

My Funny Friend

lizaaitken

So I’ve been reading Conversations with God. I had heard of the book but hadn’t given it much thought before until a friend mentioned it. She told me it was powerful and that things start to happen when you read it. I was interested so I downloaded a copy on my Kindle. I chose my Kindle so that if I read it outside no one would know what I was reading and automatically jump to the conclusion I was a weirdo.

I immediately liked the book when I started reading it, mainly because it made me laugh out loud. Who would have thought God would have the same flippant sense of humour as me. He says in the book he invented humour so it is only natural he gets it. Well lots of people think they are funny but they don’t make me laugh like God does. I know I sound a little crazy but people have told me about God before but I haven’t felt drawn in the same way. This Donald Walsch, who brings God in these books, gives you a God you want to go for a drink with. I can imagine sitting over a coffee with him talking about the universe and beyond. We would get on so well it would be natural that we would move on to a bar or two and really get stuck into who we are, maybe end the evening with a curry.

You see this book makes God real in a way, as real as the scenes you can see in your mind when reading any book. I invest my emotions into characters in books, get to know them, care for them and bring them into my life.

Funny thing was half way through the book strange things did start to happen. Like the check out guy in Waitrose stopping what he was doing and telling me he missed his mother. He went on to tell me, a complete stranger, that he smells flowers when he wakes in the morning. He told me she loved flowers and he bought them for her every week, he said he was confused as he didn’t have fresh flowers at home. I suggested that maybe it was his mother drawing close to him, suggested he talk to her and buy some flowers for her. He told me he would do this and got on with putting my shopping through. I walked home thinking about him and his mother, I suppose they are in my life now too.

Mum and I have been even more psychically connected than usual. Even though she is fifty miles away we seem to be experiencing a higher connection. She will phone and it is turning out we are thinking or doing the same things during the day, like we are in the same room.

Well I’m near the end of the first book now and reading about what it means to be successful, how to bring success into your life. How to have what you need financially and materialistically, by just knowing you have. As I turned off the light last night, I thought about how I had always believed I would be all right. I smiled as I thought of winning the lottery.

This morning there was an email from the National Lottery, strange because I thought I had not been successful in updating my debit card payment. Well I must have been because it turns out I won. Not all of it this time, that’s to come, but £174.00 for now.

I immediately thanked God, not my lucky stars but God. This book is having an impact on me. I’m off to read some more about my funny friend.

Happy Easter!

The Development Circle

lizaaitken

She found it really hard to close her mind to the outside world and just be in the moment. There was a shopping list running through her mind and she could see herself walking down the isle of the grocery store. She found these guided meditations really hard to stick at, it was terribly difficult to let go of life or was it just too frightening. She pulled herself back from the supermarket, lifting her gaze to look round the circle. There were seven of them in total, the others appearing to be at peace and following the guidance of the leader. Okay, where was she supposed to be, could she see the blue light in the circle, maybe if she turned it into tiny drops of water she could just see it.

Who was that outside in the hallway, maybe a latecomer but surely the door was locked. She brought her mind back to the group and mentally put the noise in the hallway into her invisible shopping bag along with the groceries. The medium leading the group was telling them to put the people they loved into the healing light in the centre. This bit was easier, there was her mum dancing without oxygen a big smile on her face and her eyes reflecting the blue of the room. Her dad smiling and waving his arms about showing jazz hands, and her nephew with his school bag dancing around them both. There was Kerry looking at peace, a smile on her face without the usual signs of childhood trauma, just looking happy. Jenny and Moira stood peacefully at the edge also watching the happiness of those still living. She put all her might into seeing these people and sending them the love and healing they needed.

It was time for the loved ones to leave and for her to step into the circle and receive healing herself, ask spirit for whatever she needed. She saw herself there, she made herself a little younger, slimmer and her hair just right and yes she was smiling. What did she need, maybe guidance, she asked spirit for direction, to help her find her path and stop jumping about in her life, she so needed to find her life purpose. She was alone in the circle even though all the members of the group were supposed to be with her. She looked up to the light and sent a prayer for help putting all her love into the request.

The door opened and a man walked into the room to join the group. From the centre of the circle she watched as he crossed the room and put his coat across a chair. She wondered what the medium would say about his late arrival but casting her eyes in that direction it appeared she didn’t mind.   The man smiled over at her and put a book down on her chair. It was green with gold leaf writing on the cover but from here she couldn’t read the words.

‘Okay when you are ready bring yourself back to the group’

She took a couple of breaths and slowly opened her eyes looking around the group. The man had gone of course, he was only in her imagination but his smile remained warming her inside. Sarah, the medium, asked how everyone felt and if anyone wanted to say anything. She smiled but didn’t want to tell the group about the man in her dream so remained silent.

It was a good evening at the development circle, they usually all had fun together. They practiced a couple of psychic exercises, some tarot and aura reading before closing the group and heading to the pub.

Saying goodnight to each other later that night, Sarah told her to think about the words on the book cover. She was amazed and asked Sarah if she had seen the man with the book. Sarah shook her head and said ‘I just know about the book, not everything but I know you will write one, you just need to see the title’.