Kim Part 4 My Reading

I did not want to share this one, at first. I thought I never would because of its personal nature. But now that a little time has past I realize how important it was by realizing how unimportant it has become. I have already detached myself from my worst nightmare. That's real progress. Thank You!




I was thoroughly impressed with the accuracy of Kim’s intuitions. Several times I felt my eyes well up with tears when her sensitivity seemed particularly poignant. I laughed, smiled, nodded as she spoke. My curiosity was growing as I thought that if she had this many good things to say about Rich and our new course together, then I had much to look forward to in the next hour or so.

I eagerly lay on the massage table, feeling bubbly warm thoughts percolating.

She did not tell me much about what she was going to do, and I accepted that. She told me that she was already getting impressions of another lifetime. “I see a place that looks like Greece. Beautiful turquoise waters. White cliffs with dwellings. You sing to the fishes. A beautiful voice. Once again, the voice: strong and happy. A man’s voice…. A fisherman.”

Then she broke off unexpectedly. “Actually I feel I should tell you something important now, because I am already starting to lose myself… So you can think about it.” I gazed into Kim’s face and watched her tone change as though she was getting too many impressions to describe everything she was seeing. She talked faster and faster in a whirlwind. “Someone has followed you into this lifetime. A woman…. She was a man in Greece. She was with you there. She has hurt you tremendously, cutting your net. It cannot be repaired. Although she needs to correct this in this lifetime.

This net belonged to your grandfather. I see how lovingly it was put together, how important it was to you. She has cut it. She is stealing your songs. You cannot get them back. She has stolen your songs and she is here in this lifetime again,” Kim warned.

The expression on her face changed as she went on to describe the folding of time as a layered sandwich or a shishkabab. “All time is going on right now, folded over onto itself with a skewer in the middle – your perception point -- to hold it in place. It’s just a matter of which layer you are on… which lifetime you are visiting… meat… cheese… tomato… You are still the Greek fisherman, as you are still Adele. This person is in, at least, both of these places. You are still singing to Rich, your Owl Shaman right now… on another layer…”

As she spoke, I closed my eyes and saw a woman I knew, a creative colleague of mine, who had hurt me deeply a few years ago. Perhaps she’s the one who had stolen my songs – actually she acts more as if I have stolen from her, a misinterpretation. A long painful story.

“I do not have the feeling that she lives with you, or around the Four Corners right now. Somewhere east of here.” Kim says.

“You can think about it while I work over you.” Kim says. “You know her. I feel the answer is important to your life right now, and your new direction.”

Lying on the table, pillows under my head and knees, a third little scented pillow over my eyes, I feel my happiness dwindling away. I want to hold onto it to show Kim my great energy, my great love, so she will give me a good positive reading. “Please, don’t take it away,” I start bartering with my inner self, trying to conjure good pictures into my head. I realize that would be untrue. She would read me as a phony. I was feeling colder, darker, slipping away, slipping away.

Kim is silently working her magic. I can smell incense and feel cool, wet, fragrant sprays gently settle upon my face. Rattles, like seeds in dry gourds, greet one ear then the other, to and fro, distant from the feet, then near my head again. I can hear rustling and soft bird songs, muted flutes and strings.

My first images are of a caged feline. I feel had stepped into this cage many years ago of my own free will. I am not sure if I am a lioness, a tiger, or a panther. I just feel myself pacing back and forth in my cage, eight steps, then turn around. I feel anxious, disturbed, afraid that I will break out into a roar and slash, feel my power, claw. I am pacing, inside as well, as I feel my heart and breath rise, get noisier, in my chest.

I feel I am a stronger woman than I let on. I am only pretending to be quiet and mild. I am afraid of the power I have to hurt, like that cat, the people around me. I am both the cat and the strong woman, holding back my power, my vicious anger at feeling caged in. My cat image stands still so I can relax. I feel I would much rather be pet and purr than slash and roar. My feelings flash to the times I have lost my temper and want to hurt my husband or scream at my son for the frustration I feel inside.

Clouds are getting blacker around me. I worry that Kim can see them. I feel tears dripping into the eye pillow. Kim introduces musky incense which pierces my head like a dagger. The pierce feels instant, but lets something out, like blood, and I am aware that my head feels congested and hurts. The wetness is my tears. My nose aches for a Kleenex.

The mood music and tones are getting stronger -- more rattling, more instruments, but I am only vaguely aware. I’m not all there right now. There are tuning forks of varying pitches, sometimes sweet and mellow, sometimes disturbing to the point of making me feel uncomfortable. Their vibrations course through me, intensifying, diminishing. I feel Kim’s hands upon my shoulders. Her right arm begins trembling strongly for several minutes as it gently shakes my right shoulder and arm.

“It’s okay. Let it out.” I tell myself many times. The last time I felt this pain was when I came to the Four Corners and met Rich for the first time. I now see fast flashing images of deception. The R** man. A young woman I care for. A silent witness. I am not certain if I actually moan or not, but I can hear myself, inside me head, doing so. Can Kim hear me? I think about trust I have lost, in those I loved most. I feel the sickening flush of embarrassment and a dull, quite real, pain cross my heart. How superficial my relationships have been since. How you can love but not trust? How strange! I think about how I accepted Rich into my life as a gift, a lifeline. The cat roars and stares into my eyes. Black face, yellow-green eyes. The price is my freedom. I’m holding back too much of myself. I’d rather die, right now, on this table. But my son, Mike, needs me. Rich needs me. I see the faces of my grown children, Jess and Steve. Unconditional love, no matter what, forever. I’ll hold on. My heart pounds so heavily, so loudly. Can’t Kim hear this?

I am amazed to see her face smiling sweetly when she removes the wet pillow from my eyes. Her voice is gentle and perky as she tells me to take my time getting my head together. I use several Kleenexes after she leaves the room to wash her hands of my toxic energy. I catch myself in the mirror: red puffy eyes; streaming gnarly unkempt hair; looking old and defeated.

When she returns she asks if I feel “revived” after that. “What!?” I exclaim. “That was one of the most disturbing, distressing experiences of my life right there! I wanted to go forward into something beautiful and uplifting and you took me back to the worst time of my life!”

I was surprised she wasn’t upset like I was.

“I was done with all that. I’m over it. Why’d we have to go over beaten territory like that?”

“That’s funny.” Because that isn’t what I saw, Adele.” Kim said. “I saw hummingbirds flying all around you. Weaving a tapestry, a blanket. Dropping it on you: Happiness, Joy. It broke into amazing geometrics, from your days with the shaman, to protect you.”