Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Story - Welcome Home

This story was 1st published in 1-16-2009 - 17 people read it. No one commented. This fiction is written to help me understand the possibilities. Does it work like this? I don't know. But it feels right. I have left the story essentially unchanged though my life has changed since this was written.

It was frightening for me at first, because so many could not see me. Yet I was still there. I was not dead - there was no body. But I was gone from their sight. As if by magic. I moved among them, touching and trying to comfort them. Yet all they did was brush me away, as if I were merely the touch of a fly.

There were a few who knew that I was there. Small children, and the very aged, but I still had a body. And the man that I loved got lost in grief for a time. But I kept leaving papers on his desk. And soon he began to read them.

I could not write, but I could move books from one place to another. I could pick up pieces of paper.

‘Read this’ I’d whisper in his ear. ‘I am here. Do not grieve for me. Live your life, Love, and you will see me soon.’ His heart healed. And he let go of his grief, long before anyone expected him to do so. So he must have felt me loving him.

He began to devour the writings that I left for him. He began to devour the things that I had sent to him over the years, which he had kept in folders on his computer. He called my friends and asked for their help. For somehow he knew that if he could only understand one critical thing, that he could achieve all of his dreams.

But what was that critical thing? Did his heart long to be famous if love was not part of the picture? What use was a big house, if he was the only one in it?

He began taking longer and longer treks into the wilderness, wilder and wilder he explored. Searching for a guide to teach him.

Until one day, he went to the Forest of the Ancient Ones, searching for answers. Arriving shortly after dawn, he simply sat. Leaning against the rough bark, he rested quietly, allowing his mind to become still. His breathing slowed, his eyes closed partway, and his heart calmed. Peace stole over him that day.

He melted into the tree, feeling the life blood of the earth rising toward the treetops of the Ancient One, and his eyes widened. For finally, he could see me, sitting next to him, cross legged, leaning against the same tree, smiling my quiet smile.

“What do the trees say to you?” asking him the question that he had asked me so many years ago.

“That they are glad that I have finally come. They say that you are really here, but that usually I just cannot see you,” voice barely above a whisper, he smiled for the first time in months. Then his smile disappeared as he spoke again. “But what use is it for me to know if you are here, if I cannot touch you.”

“Are you sure? Take my hand.” And I reached out to touch his knee. For the first time in months he felt my hand, warm and tender. Not thinking it was merely a trickle to be brushed away.

Fingers entwined in mine, he looked at our hands in wonder. “But you’re gone? How can you be here? I must be dreaming.”

“No, I have always been here, waiting for you to stop lowering your energy in grief. I have always been here, loving you. Now you must trust. Trust that you are ready for the shift that is occurring within you.”

He leaned back against the trunk of the old tree once more, and I told him the story of ascension. How one day I was playing with the energy in a crowded room, and I just disappeared. Right in front of people.

It had not been dramatic, except that they looked around, and then dismissed my disappearance, as though I had merely stood up and left the room. Their minds had not been ready to accept the reality of what they saw, so they simply forgot it.

But I had still walked around. I had still moved from place to place. I found that moving by thought was easier than driving. I learned to fly again. At first it was awkward, like swimming through mud. But eventually I got the hang of it. And then I remembered him. And went in search of this delightful man, only to find him immersed in grief. For to him, I had evaporated, leaving a hole in his life.

We talked the afternoon away, leaning against those old trees, holding hands, the other visitors of the park ignoring us completely, as though we were invisible. It was almost dark when he finally stood.

“I must go now. I’m supposed to be with the kids tonight,” regret filled his voice. “Will I see you again?”

“Take my hand; I have something to show you.” And we walked off into the forest. Finally reaching a clearing, surrounded by a half dozen of the Ancient Ones, we stopped. Puzzlement filled his face as we began to glow.

“Children, come here,” the words were spoken at barely a whisper, and yet they carried out into the Forest, on a wave. The Forest fell quiet and one by one our children stepped out between the trees. “They have always been here, because they did not forget. Somehow they were allowed to remember that they belong here. How they lived in both worlds, I do not know, because I couldn't do it. Perhaps it was as like a game of role playing. But they are here. Now. They live with me. All of our children. Both yours and mine. And other children come and go. It is comfortable, and we are used to each other now. Though at first it was awkward, because your children did not wish to be disloyal to their mother. But we adjusted, and they have helped me to understand how to come and go between the energies, of high and low. In that way they could visit you, and then return here to recharge and renew. Though I can't seem to do it yet.”

“Many of our friends are here too. Not all, but the ones that we loved best are here. And I am glad that you have finally joined us.”

He was concerned about getting out of the park before they locked the gates, still caught up in the idea of the lower energy. His children laughed, and told him that there were no gates here, and that his car would be all right. And that he should come and see our home. . Surprised that they should say our home, he was nearly overwhelmed when we arrived at a comfortably snug home. The boys climbed to their shared loft, my daughter was preparing supper. Pausing a moment in her movements my daughter hugged me, and then went to stand in front of him. ‘Welcome home,’ was all she said.

Shaking his head, he sat at the simple table, while I got him a drink of the clearest, coolest water he had ever had. Clean and tidy, our home was not large, but it was cared for with love.

After supper, my daughter hugged us both again, patted each boy on the head, and went to the door. “I’ve work to do tonight. Is there anybody you especially want me to love, mother?”

“Why don’t you check on your father? In fact you might want to take him to a movie. I think he’s kind of lonely.”

“It’s getting harder to manifest a body. I’d rather he brought his energy up,” she complained. “Will he ever ‘get it’?”

“You know that no one is kept out, except those who will not love. So sooner or later, your father will get it, though he may have to die to do it,” was the answer heard through my sigh. “If he can learn it from you, then he need not go through that pain. Good luck, you’ll need it.” Nodding, she waved as she went into the dark and closed the door.

“Am I dead?” asked the man at my side.

“No,” was my reply. “You are finally vibrating high enough to shift to a new dimension. Here, we live our lives, creating that which we want, no more, no less. We live peacefully, because there is no need to take things from someone else, when we can make whatever we want.”

“I don’t understand.” His face reflected disbelief.

“We have no crime, no war, because they are caused by fear, hatred, and wanting. Those are lower vibrations, and whenever someone falls to these levels, they cannot maintain their place here, so they simply shift back to the old. But after living here for a very short while, most people are changed forever and no longer wish to live in the lower vibrations. So they work hard to elevate their energy through allowing love back into their lives. This allows them to shift back to this level.

“You are here now, and may stay, if you wish. Or you may return to the lower vibrations, and this will seem like a pleasant dream. But sooner or later you will reach for this dream again. You may stay if you wish; you may stay in our home, with me if you wish.”

“Is this real? Are you real?” was his question.

“I am as real, and as passionate, as I was in my old life. I am more loving that I was then, there. And I am still not easy. Remember that I have told you, I will never be easy. You will have to put effort into loving me. For without that, we will not be a vibrational match, and we will simply drift apart. Easily, naturally. The choice is yours.” And I sat quietly, looking into his eyes, waiting for him to decide.

His breath became ragged, for a moment as the implications sank in, and he said “I want a purple balloon.”

A moment later, from the loft a voice was heard – “hey, I’m trying to read… Do you mind?” And a lavender latex teardrop floated down to land on the floor next to his feet.

“Oh my god, this is real. And you knew all along. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I tried, but I couldn’t find words that you could understand and believe. All I could do was love you. And I couldn’t wait for you to come with me. I tried, but it just didn’t work. So I came first.” Tiredly, I smiled. Reaching out my hand, I continued. “I promise I will answer every question that I can. But let it wait till tomorrow. For now let’s just go to bed, for I have been waiting for you.” He stood, the twinkle in his eye said he knew exactly what I meant.


Renee said...

Okay, at first I will admit I was a bit confused, but the emotions that swim through the piece caught me and I had to keep reading.

This is, in a word, awesome. ^__^ I especially love the purple balloon. Honestly, I don't know if this danced the line between fact or fiction, but it struck a cord.

Love it honey, and I didn't see any problems with the flow at first read. ^_^ I felt like a gentle river of words just guiding me to through this forest and letting me glide to the finish.


Twitter: @TheRaeRae

Gayle McCain said...


Thank you for your encouraging words.


Muffyjo said...

Hello Gale! Very Well Told! Thank you for the wonderful story of your Spirit's Ascension Journey. This read like a fascinating dream story to me; a fairytale of sorts, but struck a true & recognizable cord in my Soul. I know that We can Mind Travel between worlds or what I interpreted as Spiritual Planes. Only a few times have I been able to do this through meditation and I still had the safety line or "umbilical cord" to keep me from drifting into Never Never Land (my fear of leaving this world & not being able to reenter) during these few transcendental meditation journeys. The most beautiful and quite painful experience was my near death experience. It took me years to understand some of it, to even speak of it, and still it is an unfolding mystery. I have been able to do ascension (I believe this is similar to what you are writing of)also in many of my dreams.

This is so like a dream I might have. Thanks for sharing your beautiful insighe.

Cheryl aka Muffyjo

Gayle McCain said...

Cheryl aka Muffyjo


I was trying to understand and explain to myself and a friend what it might be like. Because he'd heard so much about it, and really didn't get any of it.

Thank you for your heartfelt sharing.


Muffyjo said...

You are Very Welcome! Don't Ever Give Up on Yourself! You are Unique. Many May Read What You Write, But May Not Comment..... But, If Only One Heart is Reached, It is Still Great Reward. Just Let Your Star Shine!