RAPID CITY
Rapid City is a beautiful place, full of historic buildings, and there is a grandeur, a feeling of impossibility on the streets of that odd little town. Anyone who has seen the sculpture of Crazy Horse changes somehow, sees things with a different inner perspective, begins to think crazy wild things can happen.
We rolled into town at high noon, and we both commented on that. We imagined ourselves gunslingers, having a high noon show down, a contest of of reflexes and bitterness. We imagined this for a little while, then came back into more physical awareness, each commenting on the garb of the other in our shared hallucination.
Duel already taken care of, we decided to find a rinky dink cafe in which to enjoy an old fashioned BLT and some slightly luke and inexplicably metallic tasting coffee. LuLu's Fine Cafe was the ticket.
Sitting in the bay area of the restaurant afforded all the action of a street side table with none of the mist which was clinging to everyone who entered the little place. The city was still in the grips of fog, a chilled and grey day in South Dakota. Lily complained about how her knees still ache in this weather, and I told her yet again how it is only in grey cloudy weather that I feel good, but that yes, I do get achy too, want some Motrin? Some Milk Thistle tea?
“Her office is just a half a block away,” Lily announced from the map she had called up on her phone. “Let's just eat and walk over there.”
“This is the part that I find so awkward, Lily. How best to go about inserting ourselves into this person's life. Let's do the meditation before we head over there. That'll help”
TECHNIQUES
We'd been instructed at various intervals for the year following the solstice. We'd have various visitors be at our doorstep, always when we were a little restless for intellectual stimulation and too comfortable to want to leave the house. Such divine timing.
One of the meditations they taught us was precisely to cut the tension they knew would build within my psyche. Ever with an artist's temperament, I still sort of fear the very thing I am drawn to. It's just something I observe anymore, and the meditations they gave us helped me with toning out these thought forms, giving them observable features.
Beyond that we learned how to “send out runners.” They are energetic helpers who go before one, clearing obstacles and establishing the energetic signature required for the work ahead. It was a relief to learn these were available. Eliminates some of the heavy lifting.
So we ate, and laughed about the weird tasting coffee, and headed on foot to a nearby park.
We have tried to keep our meditation time as private as possible, because each of us have the tendency to disappear, if seen from strictly third dimensional eyes, while in deep meditation.
I WAS RIGHT THERE
The first time it happened, it was quite a shock. I'd been cleaning the downstairs toilet, and was mad about something, I forget what. I couldn't find Lily anywhere, so I went to my office and started reading. I figured Lily had gone for a walk. She wasn't in the house. She'd said she wanted to make brownies after she got done meditating, and I'd expected the house to have been smelling chocolatey any time. But no Lily. Even the meditation room was empty. She'd left a candle going, I noticed.
Oh well.
I fell asleep, and when I awakened three hours later, the house smelled like chocolate. I went downstairs and asked her how her walk was.
She looked at me like I was crazy.
“You went up to read after you came and checked on me. I was in the meditation chair in the green house.”
“No, Lily, I checked in there, and you were gone,” I argued. “I thought I'd find you there, or in the kitchen, but the house was empty.”
“But I saw you, looking at me, I was in the chair, and I was practicing open eye meditation. Remember, there was a candle lit. I'd been doing some flame gazing. And then you walked in.”
We decided that the only explanation could be that she had become invisible to me. Had I been in a better mood, a more elevated place, I probably could have seen her in her lighter form. But, no, I'd been too 3d in that moment.
We later congratulated each other on the marvelousness of that scene. Quite an object lesson, that.
So anyway, we avoid public places when we meditate, because on-lookers get a little weirded out. But this was, if not an emergency, then a very convenient place to do some clearing, some readying.
We did our thing, set our intention, established our runners, and, just for good measure, Lily experimented with her new found love of bi location. She especially liked the lovely red velvet wallpaper in the offices of one Dee Wallis, who was currently on the toilet.
WHAT A TEAM
By the time we made it to Dee's office, the high from our meditation had only intensified. We were each extremely expanded while being highly focused, a curiously lovely state of being. In that state, little is unknown. Energy patterns and signatures are as concrete as the objects we agree are real. In that state, all things are available.
This is the part that Lily just loves, and I kind of dread. The opening shot across the bow, the gauntlet thrown, the invitation extended. Drives me crazy with, I'm not sure what, just a twinge of unpleasantness. So thank God Lily lives for this part. I don't think I'd ever gotten around to doing these missions if not for Lily's ability to break the ice.
Dee's business was in a two story brownstone palace. It smelled of antiquity and struggle. It held many ghosts, many old souls who left part of themselves behind, just for good measure.
The air was fairly thrumming with ghost-talk. Having clairaudience is usually fun, but there are times when I just can't reach the volume dial in time, and I got blasted.
Lily is much more kinesthetic and emotively cerebral in her understandings. What I get as sight and sound, she gets as movement, sensation and emotions. We each receive big packets of information, downloads, injections of light. That's different. In our outer expressions, and our inner knowings, we seem to nicely balance each other out, and offer nearly complete psychic services.
We think that would be an awesome trademarked logo for a company.
We are not business people.
Dee approached us, because the heavy door was attached to an old fashioned bell, in keeping with the stifling Victoriana which began to get just a little overbearing the longer I stood in that beautifully appointed masterpiece of a receiving room
HOW CAN I HELP YOU?
Dee was a square, short, older black woman, with a care worn and friendly face. She was an open one, someone who had a happy heart, and very few questions.
Dee's personality was brilliant, optimistic. She greeted us warmly, and I immediately felt at ease, not an easy feat, during the meet-and-greet phase. I was gratified to see we would be working with one so willing, so open.
I never know how to language any of this. I observe, knowing I will eventually be writing about it. But to language these awarenesses, not my forte. I let Lily take over.
“I understand through some research that I did on-line,” Lily began, “that you specialize in decorating the historic sites of this fine city.”
Dee smiled broadly, and sighed deeply. “Yes, my, well that is very nice to hear. I get to working my little patch of grass here and forget there's an outside world half the time. Oh, my, I do love what I do.”
“Oh, no, no, your work is well known. And I have come today to ask you a very odd question. I hope you will not take offense, but my curiosity is so very strong,” Lily said. “We've traveled a long way to have a cup of coffee with you and ask you a couple things about your work.”
Taken off guard in the very best way possible, Dee excused herself, and came back to her foyer dressed in her maroon overcoat, plastic hat and galoshes.
WELL, THEN
What happened next was truly bizarre.
I know that's saying a lot, given the subject matter of this tome, but, come on, there are some things that are normal, and there are others that are inexplicable.
Dee said she would like for us to have coffee with her at her home. It was two houses down, and had a less stuffy, more updated feel to it. Traditional, almost rigid, but pleasing to the eye. I always look for surprises in decor, a sense of humor and irony. There was none of that here, just all around comfort and stability. A nice feel.
We settled around her butcher block kitchen table while Lily tried to explain.
“We are wanderers. Jane here is a writer, a scribe. I am a healer,” Lily paused, gazed into Dee's eyes, and said, “We both do work with people who are ready for the next level of information available to them, at any given time.”
“Yeah,” I added, “we're sort of like the Batman and Robin of the energetic world. Except our relationship isn't closeted.”
Of course, that took Dee off balance, as it was meant to, to get her to see she'd entered an area she'd never had access to before.
“So,” Dee asked in a meek voice, “What do you want with me?”
“It's as advertised,” I improvised, “Lily is the one who has questions, is always so driven to find out the whys and the wherefores. It's an amazing quality.” I looked at her and saw the old tell tale signal, that I could stop talking any old time I wanted, you know.
“No, what Jane says is true,” Lily chuckled. “I just have some questions, as advertised. And they're about your work. I just want to know,” she said as she leaned in, ever so gently, “what draws you to your work?”
Dee sat there just as stunned as could be. Why would two women drive from God knows where to ask me that? Why didn't they just call me up?
“Now, don't get me wrong,” began Dee, “But don't you think it's curious, what it is you two do?”
How could I but laugh. She didn't even know about the yodeling plan, and my objections to it.
“Of course, yes, we are very curious creatures,” I conceded. “A curious couple of people. Yes.”
“Jane means that in every definition of the term. But me, I'm more of a researcher. I want to know what it is that draws you to this one specific area, and if you've ever wondered about that, and what you might be aware of about that whole time frame, in this locale.”
Dee looked encouraged now, and that was good to see. She spent the next three days telling us all about herself. The weird part was when the spaceships came for us at night. That was so not in the Victorinaa vein.
FARE WELLS
We had a lovely time with Dee. By the end of it, she had a full time guide on hand, Toby. His last life had him coming from an affluent, very very white part of Connecticut, trust funder, about 22. No one expected that, least of all Dee. I love someone with a good sense of humor.
Dee was, in the end, just as expanded as we'd been when we first walked into her offices. It was nice to see those offices as lit up as they were by our visit's end.
It was clear, as we put that El Camino in Drive and headed to Mount Rushmore, that we'd done well. Another person reintroduced to themselves, reacquainted with their brilliance.
And it started with the disarming curiosity and good natured care of my dearest friend.
What we have found is that everyone we assist is then so connected to us, not in a karmic way, but in an energetic way, that we can locate each other along the grid at any moment. It's like a new, free, much more user friendly internet, but there is a process to going on line.
We've both come to see ourselves as operating system technicians, the geek squad for the energetic crowd.
Leaving Rapid City was nice, because our work felt so complete. And we had yodeling to consider now.
INTERLUDE AT MOUNT RUSHMORE
It turns out that yodeling is not only acceptable, but encouraged, among the more continental visitors to the monument. The uniforms, not so much. We'll have to remember to pay that ticket when we get home.
It was time to head the car south and find ourselves at home. Road tripping is an enjoyable way to travel, but it is an endurance event. And by the end of our time climbing all over rocks and running away from security guards, we were ready for the simple comforts of home.
I called my son that night, busy studying for an exam. He'd stumbled upon structural design and taken off like a rocket, couldn't get enough of it. He was living in his own apartment, on a tiny trust fund, finding his way very well. I was glad of it. I felt peaceful.
We head home tomorrow, and will be petting our cats and sleeping in our own bed in just three more days. We can do anything for three days.
Yeah. That's what I thought.
