Acid Rain R.D Rhodes (small books to read .txt) 📖

back, as she drifted, like that ghost in Sleepyhillock, through the grass, into an area of the garden with lots of bushes and shrubs. There was a hole in the ground, a cave-like entrance, and she went down into it. I followed her in. Then I was going down, down through the earth, not following her, but like I was teleporting alone. I was passing through layers of ground, and I realised I was full of different colours.

Then there was black space, and I was in that blackness, and I was a little prick of white light. I noticed I could make myself grow and expand, and glow brighter if I wanted to. And that’s what I did. And the more love I put into myself, the brighter and more vivid the white got.

And then I was with the woman again, in a tiny little cavern. There was a little round stone table in the middle of the stone walls, the ceiling was only a half-foot above my head. The woman was busying herself with making a drink. It was like a small kitchen and living room, but underground and with no electrical appliances.

Would you like coffee, or tea? She communicated.

I said a tea, please, and a wooden cup filled with something dark green was handed to me. I set it on the table. It seemed it was more of a kind offering, a nice gesture, rather than me being able to practically drink it.

She sat down on the stone chair next to me and smiled warmly through bright white teeth, and the warmth of her smile flowed right into me.

Who are you? I said.

You can call me Linda.

Why have you taken me here?

You came here. You sought me out. I’m here to help guide you.

I imagined holding the cup in both my hands and looking round the room’s small walls.

What is the meaning of life?

She laughed. Straight to it. To learn. To learn and to grow. If you don’t learn, you don’t grow.

I thought of the Dylan lyric, He who aint busy bein’ born, is busy dying.

For who’s benefit? I asked.

I saw for the first time the big bone hoops in her ears.  Everything is in a process, in a state of flux. Everything is energy. Everything works in circles and cycles. The object of life is knowledge. To find truth. You live a great many lives and each time you come back with your own little piece of the jigsaw, that adds up to one big whole.

Come back where? I felt a flutter of panic.

Home, she smiled. The world isn’t reality. It’s all around you. The spirit world, heaven, the afterlife, the fifth dimension, the other dimension, it’s got many different words but it’s the same thing.

Is that where I am?

It’s even better than this. Her smile widened.

But what about…I put my own pain and my other stuff out my head…Hitler, genocide, oppression? It’s all just lessons? All the pain is merited? All the pain has to exist?

How would you measure happiness without pain and sadness? How would you know what it was? Happiness wouldn’t be an emotion then, you’d be just how you are. Do you expect God to intervene? All the time or only sometimes? After he’d stepped in so much, would it still be a life, your life, and a life of free will and choice? Or like you’re a goldfish with an owner above, who keeps sticking his hand in the bowl and moving you around? But I can’t tell you the full extent of that question.

Why?

Because, a little at a time.

Is there some sort of reward for living a good life? For being a good person? And what does good even mean?

Of course. Being good, living to your highest self, lifts your consciousness. Lifts you up. Lifts everyone dimensions. What is good? Just follow your heart.  No-one who has followed their heart should ever be afraid of death. But it’s not for us to live your lives for you. You can’t ask us for all the answers, you need to find them yourself.

Through suffering?

Through all aspects of life, but yes, sometimes it involves suffering. But that doesn’t mean you have to get attached to the suffering.

The wisest people are the ones who have suffered most, I thought, but didn’t direct this thought at her.

She didn’t say anything.

So, something like the sermon on the mount? I asked.

She sipped her cup. She offered me some of the biscuits that were on the table. Yes. Quite like the sermon on the mount.

To love your neighbour as you love yourself. To live for others. To forgive, I thought.

The energy had been building up the whole time, and now it was overwhelming. The most powerful energy I’d ever felt. I momentarily went back to check on myself- warm, sitting under the oak tree in the forest- then I went back to her. Tears welled in my eyes then rolled down my cheeks, there- where I was- and with the other me, the body under the tree.

She stood up, and came to me, in one swift movement, her long arms hugging me under her white fluffy shawl.  A wave of the strongest, purest, unconditional love passed through every nerve and atom of me, and I felt happier and more accepted in that moment than I thought I ever had in my entire life.

I returned her hug and she tightened her squeeze. The love was vibrational.

She stepped back and looked at me, her deep blue eyes blazing with kindness and compassion.

Are you real? I asked.

Yes. Are you?

I think so, I said, and I felt another wave of humorous joy. Are you a ghost, or a spirit of someone who has been before?

I have had many lives, she