Certain Uncertainties

“So where are you going--again? And why?” “Phoenix, I'm going to Phoenix for that conference on Edgar Casey. I've told you about him before. He's known as “The Sleeping Prophet”. He made many predictions that have come true about the affairs of our planet.” “Oh, Jean Dixon taking a nap,” Trudy quipped. “Knock it off! Edgar Casey is the mystic of our time,” Sandy snapped. “I told you about him, how he could at will put himself in a trance, travel through space and time to diagnose and recommend treatment to people who asked for his help. During his lifetime, he cured hundreds of people all over the world !” “Oh, I get it, Dr. McCoy on Star Trek,” smirked Trudy. “So why is this going on in Phoenix?" “Because, that's the headquarters of ARE, The Association for Research and Enlightenment,” “Well, your high flyin' highness, call me when you get back to NYC. Don't wear out that magic carpet circling the universe.” Duly noted! Being a newly licensed massage therapist, Sandy's last few years had been steeped in evaluating the potentials of alternative healing modalities. And so it was that in the winter of 1983, she made the trip from New York City to Phoenix to attend the latest ARE conference, hoping to find a shred of Casey’s gift within her? Is that kind of magic available to everyone, just for the asking? Is it even magic, or is it something else altogether? All related questions loomed uncertain. At best, maybe she'd get high from transcendental fumes. January in Arizona was a stark contrast from New York City. The natives weren’t wearing shorts, but Sandy felt like she should have packed a pair. The ride from the airport to the local YWCA was a desert view of lush-life green available for a limited time only. The YWCA could have been anywhere at all in the U S of A. The quarters and accommodations consisted of one huge room filled with twin size beds spaced about 6 feet apart on all sides. The “suite” was completed with a small 2-drawer dresser at the foot of each bed. It was nothing special, nothing note-worthy, just adequate. It was what she could afford and only a short bus ride to the Hilton, site of the ARE conference.

A good night’s sleep wasn't in Sandy's cards. She was too excited for tomorrow to come. The Hilton's marbled floors and crystal chandeliers smacked of worlds colliding as Sandy compared them to her humble YWCA digs. Then there were the spiffy dressers mingling over complimentary breakfast treats for conference guests. And then there was Sandy, with her nut and granola wardrobe announcing her allegiance to a more fringe element of society. It all left her deciding that she would have to rely on her “sparkling” personality. Besides, this was about being holistically healed, not well heeled.

A “sparkling personality” makes friends easily. It didn't take long til Sandy found her two and together they made The Three Musketeers look like stuffy business associates. There they were, Phil Walters an adman from Dallas, TX and Katie Mathews, a nurse fresh in from CA. Katie was “hot to trot” for Phil. Phil was “hot to trot” for something, maybe for Katie, maybe not. Sandy's exuberance helped to diffuse the waves of heat rolling off Katie's aura, from her not quite unabashed pursuit. Their name tags introduced them. All they had to do was say, “HI! Are we havin' fun yet? Yes we are!” They all had their reasons for being there. Phil, admittedly being a bit of a hypochondriac, was looking for a way to cure his digestive issues. His somewhat sensitive nature betrayed a hint of depression. At forty one, perhaps he had remained single for too long. Maybe he had given up hope of finding the right one. Spiritual healing helps heartburn. But maybe it was just what he said. “I spend $120 a month on these high-colonic treatments at the day spa and it's puttin' me in the poor house. There's gotta be some herbal treatment out there. And NO-I'm not gonna ween myself from fast food!” Sandy was surprised at Phil's admission to a fast-food addiction. One wouldn't know it considering the fine figure that he cut in his slacks and sports coat. Katie was a mid-western gal who ventured out of WI to California shores. Nursing can take you almost anywhere you want to go. It can transport you 1,000 miles from that mediocre high-school sweetheart romance turned into dead weight wed-lock. Lock was the dominant sentiment here. “Hop on the bus Gus. You don't need to discuss much. Drop off the key Lee. And get yourself free.” Katie was absolutely convinced that nobody said it better than Paul Simon. Katie was sure that there was more to life than her heretofore existence. She wanted more from her career and her womanhood. Maybe ARE could point her in the right direction. So, day one of “meet and greet” was a total success. The bus ride back to the Y had Sandy feeling like she was on the right track.

Dinner at the Y was on your own. Sandy picked up some convenient Stouffer's dinners that she could micro-wave in the community kitchen. Later in the evening just before bedtime, a nice hot cup of tea seemed in order. That's when she met her. She said her name was Bonnie. She was a curly haired blonde of about thirty eight years. She had an air of experience and confidence. She was someone who had been out and about in the world that she thought of as her own. She said she was in sales, real estate to be specific. She couldn't emphasize enough that, “Selling is easy!” “Ya see, all you hav-ta' do is pick out something about your target and focus on that one particular thing. Believe me, there's always some older guy wearing a really ugly bolo tie. Focus in on that. Tell him how cool you think it is. Ask him how or where he got it. That gets you into the door of them telling you something about themselves. That's information. It creates an approach for your pitch. Oh, and once they tell you their name, don't forget it. Use their name a lot when you're talking to them. People like hearing their name.” Bolo tie, hmm, was that the necklace-like contraption that cowboys wore instead of a tie? Yeah, living in New York, Sandy hadn't seen many of those. Compared to a conventional necktie, it seemed weird, radical, just plain unfamiliar. For some reason, auctioneers seemed to like them. That was the only occasion Sandy had seen them back in her midwestern hometown Ahhh—what do auctioneers do? They sell things, there must be a connection there.

But, for the time being, selling anything of any sort was on hold for Bonnie and her younger friend Anna. “We are running for our lives” she confessed in an amazingly blasé tone, as though she had said it many times before. “It's Anna's sister. She's stalking us with her familia!” “Familia? What's a familia?” During the 7 years that Sandy lived in New York City, she'd heard a lot of off-beat verbiage. But “familia”, never heard of it. Bonnie looked at her as though she must have been living under a rock for all her 27 years. “A familia is a creature brought forth by its creator by means of casting a spell. A familia is a creature whose only job is to spy on and help the creator know where its subject is at all times.”

“What? What KIND of creature? How do you know it's there? Can you see it in broad daylight? What do you do when you see it? Does it scare you?” Sandy couldn't believe this! “Oh yeah, it's scary alright! Especially the first time you see it! The thing that's after us looks like a cross between a bat and a squirrel. There's nothing on the physical earth plane that looks anything like it. We feel it before we see it and when we see it, it vanishes into thin air. It doesn't matter if it's day or night. First it's the feeling of being watched, like somebody is taking your picture. You look up and ZAP—it vanishes.” “Why is Anna's sister doing this? How is she doing this?What does she want?” This was really giving Sandy the creeps and she couldn't understand why Bonnie was telling this to her. This wasn't what Sandy signed up for. She was here for healing and light and all things good.“Oh, that sister wants many many things. But most of all she wants Anna back in Utah. We're headed for California, maybe San Diego. Hopefully that will be far enough away to out-run the clutches of the coven.” Utah, the Mormon capital of the world, anyone running away from that State or “state of mind” had Sandy's sympathies.

“So, what did I miss last night being back in the ghetto?” Sandy greeted her new pals on her way passing into the conference auditorium. There they were looking all bright- eyed and busy tailed, like they had both gone to bed early. “Well Phil, don't you look like “dapper Dan” in those duds of yours.” Calling attention to Phil's tasteful apparel, Sandy noticed that his tie smartly accented the color of his shirt. Phil's tie was not a bolo tie. “Hey Phil, you have a kind of GQ fashion sense. Let me ask you, what do you think of bolo ties?” Without missing a beat, Phil's snap judgement was that they were strictly for bucking broncos and rodeo clowns. Phil was not up to fence sitting about bolo ties. “Come on,” Katie eased in as she locked arms with Sandy, “Let's all go find ourselves a good seat. Dr. Gladys will be starting her talk soon, and I don't want to miss a minute.”

Drs. Gladys and Bill McCary have dedicated their lives to healing. Their brand of healing stems from the teachings of Edgar Casey that launched the holistic health movement. Its main tenants declare that illness stems from energy imbalances. The mind has the power to heal the body by focusing on life force energy that flows through the body. And now, here was Dr. Gladys to tell everyone just how it is done.

Dr. Gladys, the grand and great fairy god-mother of all things holistic, spoke.

“The human body is a sacred universe all on to itself,” she declared. “Think of it as the Holy Trinity—body, mind, soul. Body is eco-system for mind. Mind is the communicator. The soul is the mind's inspirational navigator. We are what we consume, physically, mentally and spiritually. What we eat, what we think and what we feel all affect the “being” of the human being. We are all a miracle. One must recognize one's own divinity in order to be healthy.” All are platitudes wholly achievable in a perfect world. Ah, a perfect world—no suffering—just LOVE. How can anything as NEEDY as the human body ever hope for a perfect world? No time for wondering all that now, Dr. Bill approached the podium. “The spirit is the life, the mind is the builder and the physical is the result. What opens the door to disease in our body? What enables us to get well? The human body is not a biochemical factory but a whole entity in time and space, affected by our consciousness and the experiences of life, now and through many incarnations. As Edgar Casey said, “Birth in the physical is death in the spiritual. Death in the physical is birth in the spiritual.” “We go back and forth between the two sides of this one door.” “Wow, that was a pretty intense dose of cosmic consciousness,” Sandy whispered to Phil. “How do you like Dr. Bill's bolo tie?” he whispered back.

Alrighty then, time for Sandy to bus it back to her little Y bunk house. She had dinner was usual, but this time, she had her tea where she was snugly tucked in bed instead. Bonnie and Anna were bunked several rows down from Sandy, but still within easy view. Thumbing through road maps, making notes, even a AAA trip-tick folder was consulted. They had a ways to go yet before they drove across California's state line. Bonnie did most of the talking, drawing on the maps, and double checking that trip-tick. Anna just sorta nodded her head in compliance more than agreement. Sandy wondered if Anna could really even READ a map. Bonnie being the obvious driver of this mission must also be the driver of the car. A driver needs a navigator. Better get out that yellow highlighter, Anna. Better mark that route loud and clear. Bonnie wouldn't appreciate having to back-track, unless maybe it would throw that devil familia off of their scent. Familia? Really—is she for real with that story? We all hear about ghosts and goblins when we are little. All are associated with Halloween, trick-or-treating and candy. Halloween is the one night of the year when the veil between the living and the dead just disappears! DAMN! Having a “familia” on your case would be like living Halloween every day of the year! Now that would be a crazy kind of fear. Racing through a desert fleeing that fear must make for suspenseful manifest destiny. Destiny--destiny is a word that pairs well with desert. Destiny is made up of semi- predictable possibilities. Desert is a blank slate providing no slack, no turning back. Maybe it's the promise of freedom that calls. Freedom by any and all other names exacts its price. What will that price be? Will you be able to pay it when the collector comes calling? If not, do you stall? Do you run? Where to, cause ya know, no matter where you go--there you are--there's that “familia” following you--it's you--Oh God, it's you!

OK, enough of this craziness for one day. Lights out, sweet dreams this time around. Back at the Hilton, the heady healing days of the conference concluded with the resounding epiphanies of its attendees. Feeling happier and “holier” about life than ever before, everyone understood their purpose. You get to heaven on the arms of people you have helped. This newfound joy must be taken out into the world to assist it in its transformation. Everyone was now a transition facilitator.

Back at “the ranch”, there they were again—bellying up to the Night Owl Kitchen Cafe in the one and only WYCA! Bonnie was busy submerging some herbal concoction into what appeared to be a mini-cauldron. “So,” Sandy approached as though their previous conversation had just paused for a commercial break and they were now back on track. “You are running from this familia,” she stated the fact. “Do you have any sort of self- defense? Is there anyway to protect your well-being? Or are you completely at this “thing's” mercy?” “Well, we've learned a few things along the way,” Bonnie seemed eager to share. From here, she pulled out a make-up compact from her shoulder bag (which also served as storage for her herbal concoction). She angled it toward Sandy as she opened its hinged oyster shape to reveal an inside mirror with something taped tightly to its surface. “You see that thing taped to the mirror? THAT'S our only defense! Taped to the mirror is a picture of Anna's sister. The way to fight off a familia is to take a picture of the controller, tape it face down against the surface of a mirror and hope that the bad energy that they are raining down on you will rick-a-shay back on to them. We must have a dozen mirrors, all with photos of that witch taped tight down to the surface! We place them in a circle around us wherever we go to form a circle of protection. It's all we have!”

WOW! WOW! Was Sandy sorry that she'd asked? At that moment, she really didn't know the answer to that question. What she did know was that she had had enough for one night and it was time to hit the rack to get what ever shut eye would be possible after that voodoo lounge act. So, the two of them said their “Good-nights” and called it a day. Tomorrow brought the time to fly back to reality. It was time to pack up, time to take that cab-ride in reverse back to the airport. It looked to Sandy like Bonnie and Anna were in hit-the road mode as well. From across the dreary institutional hallway, they waved “good-bye” and “good luck” with gestures of smiles and thumbs up. Anna was sporting a bolo tie for the occasion.

Sandy enjoyed plane rides because they gave her mind a guilt free chance to wander. Everything that you want and desire is on the other side of fear. Fear is that desert. The deserts keep growing. They keep coming. Dry heat, no water, that's a good combination for fire. God promised Noah no more floods, but the next time around , Earth would go up in flames. The absence of what God promised to never do again, ironically sets the stage in motion for His second promise. How about that! What a sense of humor! So many uncertainties in this life-but one thing IS certain, the ability to read in-between the lines real, or imagined, makes deserts as navigable as the seven seas. “So, how was the holy pilgrimage?” Trudy chided upon answering Sandy's call. “Oh man, lots of interesting things to do, lots of cool people to meet and most of all, lots of powerful new life insights,” Sandy assured her. “For instance, did you know that you can sell an air-conditioner to an Eskimo as long as a bolo tie is somehow involved?”

The End