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I am at Denver International Airport, looking back at the journey I am just about to end. I bring back many beautiful — and a few very, very silly – stories. A fine red thread seems to lead through the last months, ending up in this journey with a few weird experiences. Where is the key to unwrap its essence? What happened, really??

It ‘started’ with what would turn out to be Emergence Shoud 11 in Santa Fe and ended with the same Shoud 11 at the Crimson Circle Studio in Louisville. Obviously not what I had expected, but the perfect experience, and without any risk of sharing stupid wisdom through the microphone – certainly a Once-In-10-Years special offer.

In early February I registered for 10 Years with Adamus and the Keahak 8 Finale. From that moment on I felt an unexplainable nervousness and anxiety. Why?? I should be looking forward to another tour through New Mexico and Colorado. It was my dream to come back ever since I did a similar trip 10 years ago. I knew, the journey had to unfold in the moment, yet a few welcoming accommodations were reserved for the first week; that calmed down my anxiety a bit, but it didn’t really cease. It was about something totally undefinable. What was it? Whenever I felt into it, it was clear I would have to find out along the way — which wasn’t exactly the sort of comfort my mind asked for.

And then, Adamus announced in Shoud 9 that something would happen in the next 45 to 60 days where “you feel like the carpet is pulled out from underneath you.” That was perfectly qualified to increase my nervousness, well, to scare me like hell! Lickety-split I counted down the days: 45 until mid-June, the time of my departure! Thank goodness! I just chose the 45 and would surely be over it before starting the trip. My mind couldn’t imagine anything worse than my comfort being attacked when I was already out of the comfort zone. So, it just dropped the idea of “60 days,” firmly denying any possibility for something unforeseen happening on the trip. There it was, my dear mind, trying to calm itself down by using ‘blue’ tools and hanging on to control. When I became aware of it, I did my very best to let go and focus on everyday life.

The weeks before departure were marked by an inexplicable urgency to get everything done; I mean, really everything, as if I was going to leave forever, a feeling that I know well from other times when something huge was on the way. I’d hardly ever gotten so many things in my daily life decided, reorganized, replaced or completed in just a few short weeks. I was driven to go on and on, until the smallest things were taken care of. I rarely slept, was overly tired, and felt I was running on autopilot. The few times I allowed myself to take a rest and feel within, I knew it was perfectly designed to get my mind so worn out that it would hardly function anymore.

Thus, I arrived in Albuquerque, New Mexico for the last part of a 26-hour trip. Little did I know that the weeks before had created the perfect setting for what lay ahead. Crazy things had already happened since I changed flights in Dallas, not caused by myself, or were they? Now, a rental car was waiting to make the hop over to Santa Fe, an easy one-hour drive, where I would finally fall into bed. So far, my concept. In truth, this drive was exactly the part that I’d had a bad feeling about for weeks. My mind did its best to reassure me that it would go gracefully like other times. My stomach knew better.

I didn’t even get going to begin with. The guy answering my questions at the car rental place seemed pretty blasé; that kept me from going back to him when confronted with the fact that I didn’t remember how to get an automatic gearbox moving! A friendly couple, there to pick up a car next to mine, gave me a quick tutorial and off I went … up to the edge of the parking lot. I found myself completely unable to determine which way to go from there, despite my perfect preparation, Google Maps online and offline on phone, hand-drawn directions on paper, just in case — and nothing worked. The roads looked different, were named different, and none of them called “This way, please, I’ll guide you there.”

After circling a few times around, I chose any exit, determined to stop at the next gas station; they would show me the route to Interstate 25 North. Obviously not a big deal — except for me. I even couldn’t determine North! The evening sun seemed as high as noon. And no gas station so far.

Instead, I pulled finally into a drive-through burger joint. Not the perfect place to ask for directions, but I walked to the drive-up window and presented my quest. The young man was surprisingly kind, and patiently explained how really easy it was. Just one turn away!

If only my tired German ears would have unscrambled, which turn! Interstate 25 seemed to have disappeared. Did I mention that I’m usually very proficient at orienting myself? Meanwhile I was approaching my intended arrival time, without the slightest progress.

I stopped at another uninviting eatery and saw two young ladies chatting right beside me. “Great! Open the door, jump out and ask them!” my mind shouted. I tried, only to find my car door was completely locked! I tried to open the window, no response there either…

Here I was, having raised three children, led two large households, completed many different projects, and driven various automobiles for more than 50 years, unable to get out of my car! Life experience had reverted to kindergarten mode.

My mind was on the edge of panic, when I somehow got the window open and called out to the ladies. “I somehow locked myself in here and don’t know how to get out!”(Does that sound like a story we’ve heard once or twice? And my prison was just a simple car, not even a crystal — with that, at least, you might gain a certain reputation!) One of the ladies reached through the window, pushed the secret little button that opens the automatic door lock and laughed, “Oh, don’t mind, I am always locked in!” Glorious ‘Land of Blue.’

Somehow, eventually I reached Interstate 25. I took a breath and was enjoying the magic of the sun setting over the vast beauty of the desert, when a man in a passing car gestured wildly to tell me that something was wrong with my car. I checked the lights, they were on. Nothing else was wrong that I could discover. I stopped on the emergency lane, he did as well and came over to explain that my engine hood was unlatched! Whew! I don’t even want to imagine what might have happened if suddenly it had flown open while I was driving down the highway! Rescue was there before I even knew I need it…

“Now I am back in my flow,” I decided. “I only have to pay attention to get the proper exit, which will lead directly to the nice casita waiting for me.” I missed the exit, of course. Well, I was so anxious about missing it that I took the exit before. That could easily be corrected, if only I knew where I was or if Maps would work. Even a bit daylight would have been great — helps a lot to read street signs.

At least there were gas stations now. I stopped here and there and was sent here and there — with right and wrong information. It felt like playing ‘Blind man’s bluff,’ wandering about until someone’s giving the next hint “right,” “wrong,” “hot,” “cold.”

It had grown dark long ago and my mind just felt wretched. Thus, I didn’t mind approaching the next illuminated house to get the attention of a man I noticed inside. At least there was a real person amid the blackness of silent sleeping houses all around! He might know my final destination, which felt as near as it was out of reach. Approaching the window, I realized he was wearing nothing but his underpants (sorry to offend anybody, but it’s the truth, nothing but the plain truth), engaged in a phone call, and not at all inclined to take notice of the crazy women outside his window that didn’t mind calling him, no matter his appearance. At night. He didn’t even close the curtain, just shifted position a bit in order to get me out of the way like an annoying fly. At this point, dear mind had completely given up — I felt no desire to observe myself any longer!

Yet — I was aware of an excited enthusiasm within: I Am was just loving this ride! Within all these turbulences, I always felt a knowingness that never stopped whispering, “This whole mess is perfectly designed. And, no matter how, I will arrive and smile.” And so it was. Somewhen, I was eventually warm-heartedly welcomed at a beautiful place.

After a glorious Shoud and Shift and Celebration with Adamus, Merlin, Kuthumi and Shaumbra, my travels unfolded gracefully. It didn’t matter anymore where I traveled, only that I traveled. Of course, the phone maps worked perfectly. And wherever I went, it was the ideal — and sometimes magical — place.

Somewhere on the flight home it suddenly came to mind, “I don’t remember where I left my key!” I knew I had carefully chosen a place where it was safe and easily accessible. But where?? There was no risk of not getting into my house, my neighbors keep a spare. Yet, my stubborn mind kept searching throughout the baggage. Several times. Each corner. I even opened the suitcase while still at the airport, a useless and laughable approach.

The key remained invisible until I finally gave up and just went home — graciously opened by my neighbor. Only then, it could reappear instantly, sitting just inches away in the extra ‘key-pocket’ of my new backpack. I swear it smiled, “Glad you can finally see me.”

I have returned differently. Or is it that I perceive differently? Everything is new. I love being here, and it doesn’t matter. My garden welcomes me, and it doesn’t matter. I love greeting the beautiful lake, and it doesn’t matter. The key is in a new place and yet, I don’t even need a key anymore. I am just there.

And the red thread connecting all these silly stories? It was, of course, about breaking through the oh, so limiting Atlantean headbands. Indeed, something happened where I “felt like the carpet was pulled out from underneath.” That particular journey still continues. It unfolds smoothly as I allow.

I prepared a good cappuccino, turned on the brand new Keahak 9 kick-off channel and joined Adamus, as he officially opened the doors to our House of Keahak 9, while casually adding, “… if I can find that key; I know I put it somewhere in my being this morning … ahh, here it is …

Are you laughing at me?? — You bet! — ME too :-)

Ulli enjoys a life filled with experience and stripped of duties. She is passionate about any kind of beauty, be it music, nature, her grandkids or other children and, above all, the beauty of her unfolding Realization. She loves being with herself as well as sharing stories with others, preferably those ending up in a good, hearty laugh. She can be contacted via email.

2 comments on "Silly Stories"

  • Claire on August 25, 2019 1:14 PM said:
    Dearest Ulli. How I loved your story. My biggest fear is getting lost. I read the article through half closed eyes, feeling the fear and knowing I was going on a journey soon. Errr, well mine was only a couple of junctions down the motorway 😳 but new car, having to use Google maps and hadn't been there for ages. Well, every time I got frightened I thought of my Merlinness and of you. Did you hear me? I knew you would laugh at my little trip. Anyway, I'm writing this at home so I made it.
  • Shirley on August 19, 2019 6:58 PM said:
    What a wonderful and enlightening story .... Let’s celebrate the taking off of the head band

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