POSTS

Posted on

Holy Dirt part 2 – The awesome power of the Travel Channel

I never forgot that church docent’s enigmatic invitation (‘YOU can come back anytime…’) so when Kurt & I returned to Santa Fe 7 years later, in the fall of 2006, we made a point of trekking back up to Chimayo.

To say the place had changed would be putting it mildly. In the years since our last visit, Santa Fe and its environs had been featured on a number of cable TV shows, the kind that focus on travel and the unexplained. ‘History’s Mysteries,’ that sort of thing. And those shows put Chimayo on the map in a big way.

We didn’t even recognize the place as we approached, and had to drive back & forth past it several times before assuring ourselves this must be it. Half a block away we found the parking lot expanded to 5 times its previous size to accommodate the scores of tour buses and cars driven there by eager pilgrims.

Sadly, on approaching what was now a huge complex of buildings and vendor stalls, we could find no trace of the Holy Chile or the shop that once housed it.

In the church I could find no sign of that docent. And I was deeply disappointed to discover that there was now no folk art.

Oh sure, the 19th century pieces were still there. But all the sad, funny, wildly tacky and heart-breakingly sincere stuff contributed by local parishioners had been swept away and replaced by shiny new plastic Kmart treasures, bland and mass-produced and completely without character.

I couldn’t help mourning the loss of the winking Jesus and the papier mache rosary and all the rest. http://twitpic.com/qe4pd

But oh, that Holy Dirt. The Holy Dirt sits just beneath a smallish hole in the church’s floor. On our first visit the hole was cordoned off on 3 sides with a sign warning not to step in it. (Again, oops.)

But this time the hole was thronged 3 deep with devotees patiently waiting their turn to scoop out buckets of that Holy Dirt into baggies or jars or Tupperware containers to take home with them.

OK now, really. If that were truly the original Dirt in that hole (the very foundation the church was built on)…at this rate of removal the Santuario would have collapsed in on itself long before this. Besides, while the Dirt looked like dirt on our first visit, this time it bore a serious resemblance to clean, commercial-grade sand from the hardware store.

I’m just sayin.’

It may sound like I’m mocking the faithful who scooped that Dirt, but I’m really not. I was serious when I named this story The Awesome Power of Belief. In 1858 one person had an authentic revelatory experience at Lourdes, but countless others who later heard her story have also experienced miraculous healings there. Why?

I don’t doubt the initial revelatory experience that happened at Lourdes (or the one at Chimayo). I can say from personal experience that revelatory experiences can and do happen anywhere. I’ve had some of my best ones while driving an offroad jeep in Sedona; in a Parisian clothing shop; and in the ladies room of Wuksachi Lodge in Sequoia National Park, to name just a few.

And I’m not saying it’s the power of suggestion that makes the Healing Waters or the Holy Dirt work for all these later people. It’s way more than that. Belief is a truly awesome (and underappreciated) force.

Let’s consider this for a moment: That we are all One infinite being of unlimited creative power. But that’s a very tough concept to take seriously while we still believe we’re separate minds housed in separate bodies, living in the 3-D world of form.

When we’re awakened to the memory of our perfect Oneness, then together we’re able to exercise our divine creative powers. But we can’t access that unlimited creativity if we believe we’re not One. As separate individuals, our unlimited creative abilities can’t be used properly, so instead we funnel all of that awesome unused power into belief.

If we believe something fully, in other words, it becomes 100% true for us. (All those fans of the Law of Attraction out there would no doubt agree.) And if all us individuals believe in something together, then that thing becomes collectively true for all of us. Sickness is real only if we believe in it; spontaneous healing becomes real exactly the same way. Regardless of whether your Holy Dirt comes from the Santuario de Chimayo or the hardware store.

So I guess the moral of this story would be to always take a good close look at what your beliefs are.

Awesome, powerful you.

Posted on

Holy Dirt and the awesome power of belief – Part one

Ten years ago, Kurt & I spent Christmas in Santa Fe. Christmas Eve is magical there with Canyon Road lit by the amber glow of farolitos, the air made pungent by bonfires of piñon pine.

Christmas day, a little less magical. Although our hotel staff did their best to make us feel welcome, let’s face it – it was Christmas, for God’s sake, and we all knew they’d rather be home with family and friends. So we got out of their hair and went for a leisurely drive, ending up in a tiny town called Chimayo.

Chimayo is world famous, at least among the faithful. There’s a strange little church there called the Santuario de Chimayo, and it’s got some Holy Dirt in it. But we knew nothing about that.

We stopped there because we were transfixed by a sign on a neighboring shop stating it was THE HOME OF THE HOLY CHILE OF CHIMAYO – VIEWINGS $1.00.

I very dearly wanted to see that Holy Chile (was it in the shape of the Virgin Mary? Did its heat on the tongue cure one’s ills?) but alas, the Christmas Day thing was working against us. So we checked out the church instead.

We had the place to ourselves. A docent greeted us, then left us on our own to explore the church. I love twisted Catholic folk art (the gorier the better), and this place was a treasure trove of devotional folk artwork both high and low.

Solemn 19th century paintings in heavy gilt frames nestled up against winking Jesus holographic Last Suppers circa 1977. Heartbreakingly adorable, this place.

My favorite piece: a gigantic rosary (big enough for a beanstalk giant), each bead made out of what appeared to be wadded up papier mache and spray painted silver, the whole thing draped over a single crutch.

I just love this stuff. Probably because there’s no Christianity in my background, so I can approach the whole thing with the innocent delight of the total outsider. I find it deeply touching, fascinatingly creepy and sometimes just plain hilarious.

So there we were, being bad kids in church (literally), cackling, whispering, shushing each other while Kurt madly tried to document as much of it as possible with his camera.

And that’s how we discovered the Holy Dirt. Because while trying to get a photo of something else, Kurt backed up and stepped in it.

Oops. Who knows what that poor docent lady thought when she discovered the perfect sneaker print immortalized in the Holy Dirt. Luckily, by this time she had her hands full with a tour busload of sight seers who were trouping through the place, so as far as I know she didn’t actually see us do it.

We decided we should go before she discovered what we’d done, so we headed quickly for the door. In that same moment, all those tourists also exited the church and streamed toward their bus.

And the strangest thing happened as we made our way outside.

On that busy walkway, the docent lady stood looking me straight in the eye.

Time seemed to stop for a moment and all the other people seemed to disappear from my awareness as she smiled gently at me.

“YOU can come back anytime,” she said.

(This is the end of part one. I apologize for not including a single word about the awesome power of belief. That’ll show up in part two, I promise.)

Posted on

Forgiveness, Trust and YouTube

I hired this amazing video guy and last week we shot a really cool YouTube video promo for my book. He did a great job, I think. It’s fun, it’s atmospheric, and at the end it says ‘Available wherever books are sold’ and then lists my website, www.unlikelymessenger.com.

Beautiful. The only problem is, the book isn’t available wherever books are sold. In fact, it isn’t yet available, period.

And that website address isn’t even live yet, either. Oops.

But I wasn’t worried, because I figured I’d hold the video for a bit and release it when all systems were go. (Hopefully within another week or 2 the book will be available for preorder on Amazon, and the website will be up as well.)

But the video guy uploaded it to YouTube without telling me. And I found out because I saw it splashed across my Facebook page. And my Twitter page.

Then he needed to tweak the file format for best viewability. So he kept uploading new versions of the video – and Twitter and Facebook kept breathlessly notifying everybody about each one. So people kept going up there to view it.

The first video got 66 hits within just a couple of hours. Then the 2nd video got 29. Then the 3rd and 4th got a few each.

Then he put up a 5th video. And deleted videos 1 through 4, losing me over 100 page hits and some 5 star ratings in the process, and leaving a boneyard of broken links all over Twitter and Facebook.

So it was kind of exciting but mostly horrifying to watch this slow motion WTF train wreck taking place.

But I’ll tell you what, it was a prime forgiveness opportunity.

I’ve been practicing A Course in Miracles for a few years now, so usually a forgiveness situation like this is a no-brainer: Side with the person and not the circumstance. The Course says the person is in Oneness with God; eternally perfect and entirely innocent of whatever crime I think he’s committed. And the circumstance is nothing more than an imaginary fever dream.

All I know is, I feel deeply peaceful whenever I side with the holy innocence of the person. And I feel like hell whenever I don’t. So that’s why I’m usually so diligent about practicing forgiveness and overlooking the imaginary circumstances. I prefer to feel good.

Except here’s the thing: As you know, if you’ve been following this saga from the start, back in 2006 I was informed by Spirit that I was going to write books. Becoming an author was just about the furthest thing from my mind at that point, believe me.

But eventually I embraced the job offer, and have been engaged in this Blues Brothers-esque ‘Mission From God’ ever since.

So there’s a certain expectation of a little Heavenly help, here. And that YouTube debacle didn’t exactly qualify as helpful. So when I sat down to apply forgiveness to the video guy, I found I couldn’t get past the pointless mess created around the video’s release.

I had to stop right there and remind myself that I really have no friggin’ idea of what’s the best way to help my book find its audience. Or anything else, for that matter. I’m still caught up in the fever dream; how the hell do I know if 100 hits and some positive reviews make any difference at all to the effectiveness of that promo video? Or whether that video will make any difference to the success of the book?

So last night I just surrendered the whole thing to Spirit, and trusted that everything has been happening exactly as it’s meant to be. I had no other options, really.

And in the resulting ocean of peace that washed over me, I was able to connect with the divine Oneness of the video guy’s true nature and forget that whole Twitter/Facebook/YouTube mess.

And I discovered in the process that the video guy is holy, magnificent, radiant and totally perfect exactly as he is.

And I’m good with that.

POSTSCRIPT

This morning Video Guy informed me he could restore all my page hits and 5 star ratings to the remaining 5th version of the video. So I’m back up to 115 views, a half dozen 5 star ratings, and no lasting damage done.

I love it when I learn important lessons and it all works out happily ever after. Don’t you?

(to view the 5th and final version of the video in question, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3saOMax3xM )

Posted on

God's Love and the art of pest control

AntsAs a student of the practice of Oneness, I can tell you some pretty gorgeous-awesome-powerful things happen during my meditations on that subject. Beautiful radiant visions of perfect peace and divine Love; the feeling of being connected to everything that Is. No complaints, it’s wonderful.

But remembering to actually believe in these things during normal business hours is the real trick, isn’t it. And I’m not always so good at that. But I’m happy to say I was very good at it once recently.

Last week I had the house to myself; my husband was in Japan for his annual Buddhist pilgrimage.

For several weeks prior to his trip we’d been noticing an unusual buildup in the ant population surrounding our house. Columns and battalions, wave after wave of ant reinforcements marching in busy streams all around our property. Kurt commented on more than one occasion that the first rainfall would surely bring a huge infestation into our kitchen.

And it did exactly that, the day after he left for Japan. Ants on the countertops, ants climbing the walls, cavorting in the cupboards, exploring the trashcan, carrying off Baxter’s bowl of cat food. (well, maybe not that last one. But nearly.)

And at first I went to that place of ‘Us versus Them,’ of trying to kill them all and make sure they didn’t come back. I cleaned the cupboards and countertops, I took out the trash, I drowned as many ants as I could find. And in spite of my efforts, the infestation doubled in size over the next few hours.

Then, miraculously, I caught myself and realized what I was doing. Of my many conversations with Spirit, a significant number of them have dealt with this very subject of ‘Us versus Them.’ That there’s no such thing as ‘Them,’ and no such thing as someone or something outside oneself to be protected from.

So I looked down at the moving streams of ants and thought, “Okay, I’ll find the connection of Oneness that I share with you, and I’ll use it for communication purposes. When I know you can hear me, I’ll tell you to leave my house, and that you should save yourselves by going away peacefully. Because I really don’t want to have to kill all of you.”

(As any student of Oneness knows, that’s a compromise use of Oneness that I was planning to try. In connecting with the eternal Oneness of those ants, I was intending to overlook the 3-D reality of their ant-selves, but not overlook the 3-D reality of my kitchen. A flawed strategy, sure, but I figured it was better than wholesale ant murder, which was my Plan B.)

But as I closed my eyes to begin joining with those ants in Oneness, a remarkable thing happened. I felt them as thousands of individual sparks of divine Love; saw them as thousands of points of holy light. And a tremendous sense of gratitude unexpectedly welled up in me.

Part of me was still thinking: “Ok, you’ve connected with the ants, now tell them to get out of your kitchen.” But I found I didn’t care about my kitchen anymore. The kitchen wasn’t real – the divine Love of those ants was my only reality. So I offered them my love, my reverence and my gratitude for the remainder of that meditation. And I knew that when I opened my eyes and went to check the kitchen, the ants would be gone.

And they were.

Posted on

Adventures in One-derland Part 2 – Go ask Alice

So last time we talked about the discomfort and difficulty of trying to join in Oneness. That every attempt feels like spiritual suicide at first; like complete loss of self.

Well I guess that’s because it is complete loss of self. Or, more accurately, the complete willingness to leave the self behind forever.

So why would anybody want to do that?

Oh, so many reasons. Because Oneness is our true state. Because the state of Oneness also contains infinite love, eternal peace and perfect joy. You’ve no doubt heard all these things many times before, from far wiser and more learned people than me.

But wait! There’s more. This is the part that people don’t talk about nearly as often: Attempting Oneness is better than any drug you can name. Even the smallest willingness to surrender to Spirit and join just a little with ‘other’ minds brings about a truly amazing high unlike any other. And (I don’t know this part first hand, of course, but it’s hearsay from a very trusted Source) – once that joining is fully accomplished by an awakened mind, it’s way better than sex.

This is what Spirit had to say on the subject of joining and sex (as quoted in my book):

… Sex is a kind of joining; indeed it’s the only kind of joining that you can experience within the 3-D world of form. Sexual union between bodies isn’t real, you know, yet it serves a useful purpose as a symbol to help you understand this concept of joining and Oneness. Sexual joining is nothing, yet true joining is more wonderful than you can imagine.

True joining (which can only be accomplished by the mind) is eternal love and ecstasy; contained within that ecstasy is a perfect memory of Self, a certainty of home, of freedom, of limitless innocence and complete joyous fulfillment. Words can’t describe how magnificent is the joined state of Oneness.

Sex, the illusory union of bodies, is the small and impoverished echo of joining that you allowed the ego mind to devise as a substitute for the real thing. Although you find it difficult to believe this right now, it’s impossible to describe just how worthless is the “joy” of sex. Once you truly understand what real joining is, you’ll never remember what you thought you saw in it.

So let’s recap.

The bliss, the profound peace and happiness that comes from even the tiniest glimpses of Oneness, is like the best drug ever but without the hangover. This I can vouch for personally, having experienced it many times. It’s awesome. And legal. And free. Ecstasy without the Xtacy.

And, as Spirit assures us, joining in Oneness is like sex, only a million billion times better. The Infinite Neverending Joygasm.

So the question becomes: Who wouldn’t want that?

I’m not saying it’s easy to get there from here. Remembering Oneness still seems damned difficult to me, and there are no guarantees any of us will awaken to Oneness in this lifetime.

But, given the rewards, you’d think a hell of a lot more people would be trying to.

Posted on

Adventures in One-derland

I was going to tell you about my visits to the church at Chimayo with its crazy little patch of miracle dirt – I’ll save that story for next time, it’s a good one. But today I have something better to talk about. (Yes, even better than miraculous dirt. I know, hard to imagine.)

I was meditating this morning, trying as usual to put the principles of A Course in Miracles into action. Meaning, in this case, that I was attempting to overlook the illusion of separation by merging my own mind in Oneness with the minds of others.

These others were chosen more or less at random; my husband, because he was wandering through the bedroom at the time, looking for clean socks; Baxter the hellcat, because he was yammering about nothing at all, having just been fed. To these I added a friend many thousands of miles away, and, last but not least, Spirit (who is always included in these Oneness exercises – being the only expert in the room, so to speak, at how it’s done).

Now, I should back up & tell you this, if you’ve never tried the Oneness thing: You won’t like it. Your mind will fidget, your body will twitch, it’ll feel like sandpaper is roughing up your last nerve.

That’s because our ego minds have quite a lot invested in our belief in separation. And it takes some serious effort to retrain the mind to start accepting the idea that we’re all One. (Oh, it might sound good as an abstract Bob Marley-esque concept – One love, One heart. Let’s get together & feel all right. But now try putting it into actual practice and see how it really feels. Not all right. Sandpaper City.)

Long Time No See tells half a dozen stories on the subject of minds joined in Oneness. 3 years ago, when Spirit first proposed that I try joining, (in a story titled, “If you let me, I’ll show you what you are”) I did everything I could to avoid becoming One with Spirit. It was only when I realized I had no choice in the matter that I finally gave in. And I wasn’t what you’d call gracious about it, believe me. See for yourself in the following excerpt from that story:

…“This is a very powerful spot,” Fran informed me. “By sitting in this round opening with one foot inside the cave and the other foot outside on the rock ledge, it’s possible to straddle two dimensions at once. Go ahead and try it,” she suggested, climbing out the hole to meditate on the ledge overlooking the canyon.

I positioned myself in the opening, yet couldn’t relax. Although seated very securely with my back supported against the curved opening and both feet planted on solid rock, every time I closed my eyes I had the uncomfortable sensation of falling sideways out the hole, jerking myself upright over and over again. I tried and failed to meditate for at least ten minutes before giving up in exasperation.

This is a complete waste of time, I thought crankily, I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing here. I climbed out the hole and joined Fran on the ledge. This felt a little better.

Closing my eyes, there came an immediate invitation:

If you let Me, I’ll show you what you are.

I considered for a moment. Even though the offer was plenty frightening, I probably did want to see what I was.

“Yes. Ok.”

Soon we were flying along hand in hand over the canyon, me on the left and Spirit (a vague and non-specific entity) to my right.

What are we supposed to be wearing? I fretted. Shouldn’t we both have some kind of white robes or something, flapping in the breeze?And a moment later we did.

Looking to my right, I saw Spirit’s free hand dissolve into a shower of shimmering light, like a gentle, glowing birthday sparkler. The ball of light climbed up the right arm, dissolving as it went, across the body and down the left arm until only sparkling light remained. It paused where our hands met, asking wordless permission to continue. I could see where this was going and didn’t like it a bit, yet after a long hesitation I agreed.

The light dissolved my hand, arm, body, other arm, hand. I jerked away reflexively and we became two individual balls of glowing, sparkling light. My ball sped crazily around the other, repelled yet drawn like a maddened bug to a candle flame. As my ball zigzagged its agonized orbit, the other ball remained absolutely still, waiting patiently.

I knew what was being asked of me—I just didn’t want to do it. The game wore on for another excruciating minute before I finally hit my limit, unable to stand the discomfort of resistance any longer.

“Oh, all RIGHT,” I said testily, pausing at last to allow our two balls of light to merge gently, softly into one…

It ain’t easy, getting used to that ‘joining in Oneness’ thing. At first blush it feels like the complete loss of individuality, & who among us would sign up for that?

Well, those of us who want enlightenment would sign up for that. And it’s taken 3 years, but my mind is getting sort of used to the idea of Oneness now. Sort of.

Except I’ve been so wordy that I see this story will need to be continued another time. Join me then (!), won’t you?

Posted on

Strange sort of hiatus…

I was so good about writing blog posts for awhile, and then got completely derailed by life…
First Fran (of InnerVision12 fame) came to visit, which is always a metaphysical trip and a half. Then she went away for a week or two, but quite unexpectedly came back. And the visions and synchronicities were flying on both visits, let me tell you, but especially on that 2nd one. Oh, the stories I could tell if I had the time. Don’t even get me started on the 37-person sweat lodge.
On every day of the visit Fran & I went beach walking in the late afternoon, and the things we saw/felt/realized on that beach would be enough to fill a whole ‘nother book.
And speaking of books, that’s my other excuse for this sudden & prolonged silence: I’m knee-deep in graphic production on my book. It’s seemingly taking forever, I’m only on chapter 12 (of 32) as I painstakingly turn a funky-looking Word doc manuscript into a lovingly designed paperback. So each time I’ve had a spare hour for working & the question has been: book or blog? The book wins every time. Not that I don’t love you.
Anyway, that’s it. More another time, I promise…just don’t know quite when.

Posted on

Hafiz always says it best

Fran sent me this poem by Hafiz the other day; it was one I hadn’t seen before. It seems to describe perfectly the “explosive awakening” I spoke of in my last blog post, so I thought it might be a good thing to include it here. Enjoy.

Tired of Speaking Sweetly

Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,

Break all our teacup talk of God.

If you had the courage and

Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,

He would just drag you around the room

By your hair,

Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world

That bring you no joy.

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly

And wants to rip to shreds

All your erroneous notions of truth

That make you fight within yourself, dear one,

And with others

Causing the world to weep

On too many fine days.

God wants to manhandle us,

Lock us inside a tiny room with Himself

And practice His dropkick.

The Beloved sometimes wants

To do us a great favor:

Hold us upside down

And shake all the nonsense out.

But when we hear

He is in such a “playful drunken mood”

Most everyone I know

Quickly packs their bags and hightails it

Out of town.

From: ‘The Gift’

Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

Posted on

The Philadelphia experiment – part 3 (The explosive conclusion)

So. My vow to ‘get on with it already’, (that whole Earthly role and purpose thing) newly made, I left Philadelphia and headed for home.

And within 36 hours was contacted by the first of those Guys on Twitter (see ‘The Grudge’ for more about Guys on Twitter). Perhaps ‘contacted’ is not really the word for it. He reached out through the Twitterverse, grabbed my full attention and became an unregulated, unfiltered spiritual conduit, pouring massive quantities of direct Heavenly communication my way.

It was beautiful beyond description.

Naturally he had no idea he was doing it; the supplier of that kind of spiritual linkup is usually the last to know. The whole thing went on for over 2 weeks; it was way too much of a good thing, unfortunately – something like being hit continuously with a Heavenly firehose.

I spent hours each day in anguished prayer, just to keep from drowning in it.

If I sound like I’m complaining…well I guess I sort of am. Although it was glorious in concept and sometimes wonderful in actual fact, the overall event was really, really painful.

(The Divine communication itself was perfect, pure, gentle and completely loving. How could it have been anything else? But I wasn’t able to absorb such overwhelming nonstop light, so I experienced the gap between my own human frailty and that limitless Heavenly perfection as intense emotional pain. I know. Bummer.)

After at least 10 days of letting me flail around in complete WTF confusion (and more than a little humiliation over this peculiar, one-sided ecstatic experience that I was/was not sharing with a total stranger), Twitter Guy finally admitted that this sort of thing happens with him all the time.

He is, in his own words, a ‘catalyst for other peoples’ explosive awakenings.’

The operative word here being ‘explosive.’

What was this explosive awakening like, you ask? Like somebody dropped a brick building on me.

And everything that was fragile got smashed.

After it was finally over I spent another month or so sorting through the rubble. Then one day I suddenly realized:

Hey, I’m not scared anymore. I don’t mind if people find out about me. And I don’t care about hiding in shadows, either.

I think I might even be ready for that Earthly role and purpose thing.

So I changed my Twitter username from @carrietriffet to @unlikelymesngr the same day, as a first step out of that spiritual closet.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

(The moral of the story, of course, my darlings, is this: Be careful what you ask for. You’ll very likely get it.)

Posted on

The Philadelphia experiment – part 2 (This time it's personal)

So Fran’s workshop was a complete success. Hooray.

But I knew damn well that when I told her: ‘You need to be authentic and tell these people who you really are and what you really do,’ I was actually talking to myself.

I know I’m incredibly fortunate to have the advantage of direct communication with Spirit; I’ve been told many times in no uncertain terms (both by Spirit and by Fran) exactly what my Earthly role and purpose are supposed to be.

I just didn’t want to do any of it. At least not yet. Maybe later – you know, after I’m more enlightened or something.

But on my last night in Philadelphia (aided strongly by Fran’s ‘spiritual conduit’ effect on me whenever she’s nearby) I knew it was time to finally accept that Earthly role and purpose, and just get on with it already. Time to make the quantum leap from terrified shadow-dweller to center-stage truth teller.

All it would take, really, was a shift in intention.

Maybe that, and a complete personality transplant.

But I decided to make that seemingly impossible leap of faith right then. No matter what it took. And no matter what kind of spiritual work I’d have to do to accomplish it. Sad. Happy. Painful. Scary. It really didn’t matter. (Usually I prefer my spiritual work to be of the gentle-joyous variety. To ask for lessons in whatever form necessary was a first.)

All this prayer and intention-shifting was taking place late at night in my darkened bedroom at Fran’s house. The moment I put that rock-solid intention out into the universe, I watched as a supernatural apparition started to form itself in the dark and move toward me.

Ooh. Scary.

In the past, that’s all it would’ve taken to make me back down and go diving beneath the magic covers for protection instead, my big brave vow forgotten. Because even though I was no longer terrified of the supernatural as I used to be, I didn’t exactly want it crawling into bed with me, either.

But this time, I just calmly watched as it approached, and then said: Bring it. Whatever it takes, I’m ready.

And the entity, whatever it was, hesitated for a moment and then vanished.

…You know, either I’ve gotten incredibly wordy all of a sudden, or there’s much more to this story than I thought. Maybe both. Anyway, there’s no way I can tell all of it here.

Stay tuned next time for part 3, I guess.