Sunday, June 15, 2014
Anastasia In Wonderland
Hot Pants, Motorcycles and K Street: Updated And A Prophecy Revealed
I am lost. I am found. Both sides of the coin are me, tightly tied to a prophecy. I was blessed with it, as if it was a light to guide the pathway of my destiny. In August I will celebrate the fortieth anniversary of the gift.
Now, perhaps prompted by this coming date, the manifesting of the prophecy seems to have moved into high gear. “G-d willing and the creek don’t rise,” so it will be.
Insight that the prophecy will be a focal point of my story brought this surge about. Apparently it is time. I might be ready, all systems go, maybe not. Yet, now, I feel a compelling instinct to want to push my way through any resistances ahead. I hope you will be out there wishing me well.
The prophecy came to me just as I was awakening from the anesthesia of my fourth corneal transplant in 1974. So it is supremely entwined with my vision problems and achievements. It came as a voice from some great beyond I cannot define, along with an image sensed. It spoke distinctly to me, making a statement I will remember until I die, and then it was gone.
The writing and publishing of my Hot Pants, Motorcycles and K Street book, slowly, but surely in progress, is an aspect of the prophecy’s manifestation foretold. Yesterday I knew this and actively returned to my work on the book.
It has not been a writer’s block that has kept me away. (Always the book is growing inside of me. So much is it a part of the prophecy’s directive. Seemingly an essential aspect of whatever it is that I am doing here in this life -- if you believe.)
The brutal winter, following on the heels of a severe eye infection crisis, seemed to halt my day-to-day book writing progress. But there has been so much more; the publishing of Murat’s last book, his unexpected illness and passing. Marked transitions at New Horizons have, also, been in motion. All of this, separate or a part of the great mystery of life that we will understand better later.
So yesterday became the day of my return.
I have a deadline to meet, albeit one of my own choosing. Or so it would seem on the surface. Truth be told I am guided by the pacing of the prophecy’s agenda. I have, for the past forty years, since the day of the prophecy, been consciously, subconsciously or unconsciously shaped by what was predicted that day.
I have forgotten the message, sometimes for as long as a decade to have it re-surface when least expected. Then, like a sighted whale dive back down into the depths of my psyche for a long time after.
Now the prophecy has reappeared. In point of fact, in the recent past two decades, it has never been far off. Indeed, in many ways it gave me hope and courage throughout my term of blindness and recovery.
But what can one say, even to oneself, of prophecy?
Even more confusing, what can one say to others, especially if one shapes a life plan based on said prophecy?
And who can predict when a prognostication is ready to manifest unless that is a part of the prediction which, in this case, it is not.
Am I a dummie or what? Who makes business plans and shapes a life off of a prophecy?
Call me naïve, or maybe brilliant, if all turns out well.
A dictionary definition suggests that prophecy is a foretelling of something that will happen in the future. I am not particularly clairvoyant. Thus I am lost and found. Still I am, also, always able to find the light in the darkness, eventually.
So, here I am, today, risking the telling that I have a dream. In it the realizing of the prophecy is my “Jerusalem.”
if I follow instructions from some great unknown Divine, I expect to have more and more to share as mid-August draws near. Please be with me.