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By Vera Petrova
Beauty all around
It is lunch-time at the Sedona Creative Life Center. I am at an 'Awakening the Illuminated Heart' Workshop. Normally I would go off to a restaurant to eat, but today I decide to stay around.
It is mild, beautiful autumn weather. The sky is bright blue; every single leaf of the huge yellow tree in front of me vibrates in the air. A girl is playing a guitar not far away from where I sit. I feel joy, I feel immense happiness.
'Thank you', I say in a loud voice, looking at the sky. What a present. Am I dreaming? I must learn to receive, I think to myself. A long way brought me here to meet Drunvalo. It was time.
Open your heart and receive. Love is all around.
'You must watch the DVD with Drunvalo explaining how he arrived on Earth', my friends Silvia and Daniel say on Skype. They explain to me where to find it in their Sedona house. Thanks to them, it is my house now. They were so generous to leave it to me while they are in Mexico. I fall asleep watching the DVD.
At 3 AM I am wide awake with a normal jet lag reaction and the DVD on my mind. I start thinking. He is not exactly human; it is obvious, and a little strange. If it is about a special kind of being who came to Earth to teach, I am fine with this; I'm ready to learn.
Then suddenly I remember some of his jokes. He jokes all the time; a small 'tic' of his, this sense of humor. Then the way he spoke about the first hug he gave to his child, and the way he speaks all the time about his wife — even when it's about how they work together, one can recognize a man in love — and this is a white-haired man, married for years now.
Then I feel so thankful for his huge patience. Giving a hug to everyone; answering even the most stupid question; skipping food when a human queue is formed with never-ending questions and photo requests. All this is not un-human. It is what happens when a man lives in his heart. He told us, he is there almost all the time.
It is to this human being that I feel thankful, at 3 in the night. I'd better make tea now. There must be some Thanks-giving pumpkin pie left in the fridge.
The best dance in my life. Deborah, my partner, was older than me, with smiling-piercing blue eyes and Shirley MacLaine-like elegance. We were only supposed to touch each others'fingertips, then separate and, with closed eyes, and our masks on, pay attention not to lose our partner, in a sea of couples who were all doing the same thing. I danced in this darkness with Deborah like with no man ever before. Love could be touched in the air around us. Drunvalo was the only non-dancing person in the room. But we all danced with him, that day. We moved with the waves of love his huge heart was emanating, silently. We danced with our higher selves, with the Angels, we were all One.
Saturday after the workshop I go to pick up Antje, Susan, and Lanie in order to drive them around on a tour of the vortexes. Lanie will leave in the afternoon and we try to do our best to be on time. But it is snowing in the desert this morning, like if we were in Norway. As the vortex tour gets shorter and shorter, a cup of coffee in a warm place seems more appropriate. We have a lot to digest, anyway.
Let's talk, girls; trips, experiences, kids.
'This is the first time I have ever left my eight-year-old boy for a whole week', Lanie says.
'My girls were about that age when I spent a month in India', I say. 'And you know what? I didn't miss them at all! For the first time! How about you?'
'I think I didn't', Lanie answers. 'I know, it was so intense what we were doing'.
'You know', I say, 'I definitely missed you more when we stopped breathing from the same breathing tube, the first day - more than I missed my daughters, for sure. They are grown up, it's true. But anyway, being separated after breathing together was such a painful feeling...'
What a sense of freedom, this 'woman talk' in snowy Sedona...
The day after I meet Edith in the hotel lobby; 'I feel such anger', she tells me. Anger? Edith? The sweetest, the most peaceful person around? She must be hungry, it must be because of her Canadian accent, I think to myself.
'It is anger'. She repeats in a loud voice staring me right in the eyes. She has never had a strong accent, actually. She knows what she's talking about. It is me, refusing to believe her. Anger? The next day after having swam in an ocean of love? Edith's eyes are full of tears. Edith who never stopped smiling, Edith with the nice, tender boy-friend Steve, the young Edith who had proudly told me she would become a grandmother, soon. Wait, wait, wait. You must be processing something very deep, you know... Listen Edith, do me a favor. Go somewhere and cry. Promise me, you must cry it all out. I will, she nods; she can't stop her tears, at that point.
A week later I am back home, trying to settle back after the journey to another planet called Sedona. It is not easy at all. My teen age daughters drive me nuts, more than ever. Right now, when I am back home full of immense cosmic love? Yes, right now. After two days in which I try to avoid a frank look in the mirror, I suddenly know —it is anger.
I need time for myself, I need to admit, after years, that life has not been easy for me, that I spent all these years with the priority of two children to grow, and now I need my space. I need to surrender. It must not be by chance that right now I am reading 'Mutant Message from Down Under'. The aboriginal people with whom the author lived for months can't understand the meaning of gravy. White people never live with the pure truth, they say. White people need gravy for their meat and small or bigger lies to digest their truth.
That's it. We are easy to call Love and Beauty into our lives, but when it comes to Truth... If I feel anger, let me be angry. If I hate, let it be. It will pass soon, but right now I need it. I am on my way to Truth. Edith was just faster.
... I arrived in Sedona late in the evening, driving in the dark from Phoenix airport. A falling star, at a certain point, appeared in the sky. Help me open my heart, I thought. Two weeks later, I left by night, at 4 in the morning, driving back to Phoenix to return the car and fly home. This time I couldn't call it a falling star: a few minutes after I left Sedona, a huge meteorite took fire in the sky, right in front of me. Out of surprise, I drove half the way to Phoenix with my mouth wide open. My heart already was.
Thank you, Drunvalo
About Vera Petrova
Vera Petrova is not a spiritual teacher (yet). But she is doing her best to be a good spiritual student. She has been traveling the world for years now, from the Himalaya to Amazonia, from Japan to Bulgaria, her native country. She has been living in Rome for many years, teaching Bulgarian language and literature at the University of Pisa, translating novels into Italian, and doing story-consulting for documentaries. She has been the editor-in-chief of important magazines, the co-author of one screenplay, and the author of one book of short stories, 'Instead of a book, 2011'. Spiritual knowledge and magical beliefs interweave easily with "grounded" themes, in her very personal stories. Vera lives in Bulgaria with her two daughters.
(She is also a devoted Spirit of Ma'at reader who participated in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta gathering with the Elders in August 2011)
Latest articles by Vera Petrova in Spirit of Maat:
January, 2012:
Vortex
December, 2011:
Elvira's little teeth
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