I Am that I Am.
I Am Here.
I Command the Energies to Serve Me.
Laura opened one eye and looked around her apartment. Everything appeared the same as two minutes before. She adjusted her lotus position on the floor and closed her eyes again.
I invite my Master to be with me.
Again, she peeked, this time with the other eye, and took another breath.
I choose the safe space.
Another breath and yes, another sigh. Slouching her shoulders, she felt defeated. It was the forty-third day of confinement and so far, nothing had happened. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but wasn’t this supposed to be THE time of Realization?
“Ah, yes, you cannot work on your Realization,” she told herself, unfolding her legs, “but confinement is such a bore.” She thought of all these days of eating, watching movies and cleaning cupboards. She sighed again.
Startled, Laura quickly thought, “Who could that be? It’s Sunday, so it cannot be the supermarket delivery service. My family lives too far away. I hardly know my neighborhood…”
Now somebody was banging on the door rather impatiently. “Yooo-hoooo!”
Yooo-hooo? Halfway to the door now, Laura paused, certain that she knew nobody who would call out “Yoo-hoo” at her door. Carefully she tiptoed closer, holding her breath to make sure the other person would not hear her, before she could see who it was. Slowly, not wanting to reveal her presence, she moved the lid of the peephole and looked straight into a huge green eye. Totally shocked, she shied back and swallowed hard.
“No. It’s impossible. They cannot see me… can they?” It took all her courage to look again, and yes, without a doubt there was a huge green eye looking right back at her, watching.
“Yoo-hoo! I know you are there, I have seen you. Open the door and let me in.”
Laura took a deep breath and opened the door a bit. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you recognize me? You have been inviting me for days now. I have heard you, but I was a little busy making myself scarce.” She beamed at Laura and pushed herself through the door. Before Laura could react, the lady was already in her sitting room. She was wearing a long yellow cardigan, a flowing green skirt and red trainers. Big glasses were dangling from her nose.
“Now tell me, Irina, what is this pressing issue of yours? I would like to solve it and return to my cottage.”
“My name is Laura,” she replied. “As my Master, aren’t you supposed to know that?”
“Papperlapapp,” the apparition waved a dismissive hand. “Laura, Irina, Maria – all the same for me. How do you expect me to know which is the current expression that is calling me? They are all the same – complaining, whining creatures. ‘Aunt Hetty, I am so alone.’ ‘Aunt Hetty, why am I so depressed?’ ‘Aunt Hetty, why am I so poor?’ ‘Aunt Hetty, this’ and ‘Aunt Hetty, that.’”
She looked at Laura again, assessing her. “You are a far cry from the others, Laura. So, what is the reason you called in your Master?”
Laura’s fists were clenched. Part of her was angry, the other part was a bit in awe. “I was told to invite the Master in to live here with me and be more present in my life.”
“And why would you like to do that?” said Aunt Hetty, peering intently. Laura thought she saw a flash in those eyes and could have sworn they had changed from green to yellow. She hesitated. “Well, isn’t he/she supposed to be here, close to me, wisdomizing everything while I am coming into Realization?”
Aunt Hetty clucked her tongue and sighed. “Can you imagine anything more boring than to sit here in confinement with you while wisdomizing? No, the Master has better things to do, like fishing and riding and roaming, to name a few. You know, there is no confinement in our Realm.”
“But if the Master is not here with me wisdomizing, how will I know if I am doing this Realization thing well? How do I know if I have created a safe space for the aspects to return? How will I know?”
There it was again, that yellowish gleam in Aunt Hetty’s eyes. “Ah, I can smell doubt. Isn’t this the real issue?”
Now, Laura was sure. The eyes changed from green to a bright yellow as she watched, and the pupils were oblique. Laura shuddered. Who was this woman? An alien? A reptilian? “I don’t have doubts,” she bristled, “I just want to do it right.”
Aunt Hetty shook her head. “Feel within. You are having doubts, but don’t worry, it is normal. Stop comparing yourself with others and listen to your heart. At this moment you are searching for answers outside of yourself, which does not allow your trust into yourself to grow. Take a deep breath and allow.”
Laura gaped while before her very eyes Aunt Hetty turn green and took the form of a Dragon. “Who are you?”
“I am your Dragon and I chose this name of Aunt Hetty because it rings of cookies and hot chocolate, doesn’t it?” The Dragon grinned, flashing its perfect teeth. “Dear Laura, trust that your Realization will happen naturally, quietly. Let go of the search outside of you and the Master will show up.” As the Dragon spoke, it slowly faded from sight and finally disappeared.
Laura stood there, shaken, and breathed. She breathed until she relaxed and felt her heart lighten.
Startled, she went to the door and opened it at once. In front of her stood Juan Sánchez-Villalobos Ramírez, aka the character Sean Connery played in Highlander.
“Greetings!” he said. “I am Juan Sanchez Villalobos Ramirez, chief metallurgist to King Charles of Spain, at your service.”
Laura gaped again. “What?”
He sighed, “Don’t you get it child? I am your Master and here at your service. Now, let me in and let’s have some popcorn while we get down to some wisdomizing. I thought Aunt Hetty made it clear that you just need to be aware of your doubts, breathe and let go, then I would come in.” And with that, he pushed himself and that huge feathered hat through the door.
“Oh, well…” Laura sighed and closed the door.
Marife lives in Spain, 1,000 km west of her birthplace and 1,000 km east of her ancestral origins. Halfway between several cultures and multiple languages, she was raised with a sense of being an eternal culturally confused nomad. The lack of cultural, religious and political limitations has enabled her to soar through life on an imaginary bench (though she much prefers the term “soul dangling”) and enjoy observing human behavior. Now the last shreds of her identity, Laura/Irina/Marife/whoever are dangerously close to being dissolved for good. You may contact her via email.