[warning – this is a long, esoteric one, but it’s got some good bits ;-)]
Do I even have a choice?
A meditation on 4-dimensional manifestation
The quandary: How long have I been coming to New Hampshire (NH) before actually getting here?
Inevitable path to New Hampshire?
In the physical realm – that comfy place we call home during incarnation -, I’d say I’ve been coming here since December 7th, 2013. That’s the day when I left Bellingham to drive 5,500 miles to NH. But, do you know that feeling you get before a vacation, that feeling that your head is already there even though your body hasn’t left yet? I always leave before I leave and linger longer than my return. My energy doesn’t actually stick to my physical envelop. I go places in my mind. When did I leave for NH in my mind? I’d say October 28th, the day when I worked through my resistance to a Fortune Teller’s prediction that I’d end up in NH, meet an equal partner there, grow roots and build a home (See The Fortune Teller – Part I and part II). That is the day when I mentally made the decision to come here.
Ah, but, how did the Fortune Teller know I was going to NH? Well, she sees the future, you say? I don’t believe that’s what happens. I think psychics and other divinators are just really good energy readers. I saw Michele on October 27th. So, even though I mentally decided to move to NH on October 28th, I already had NH energy about me a day prior. I was already going to NH before I knew I was. So, when did that energy kick in?
I’m sure there were tiny incidents I overlooked, but let me back up to the previous potent one.
On June 12th, 2013, I left Sedona with the intention of driving north in search of mountains. My primary destination was Banff, but I didn’t know where I was ultimately going. I was looking for Home – since apparently Sedona wasn’t it. I had meant to drive to Denver in one shot, but I stopped too many times to celebrate my return to the mountains and was still several hours away by nightfall. I took a random exit to a small town in the Rockies, hoping to find a stealth place to park my truck for the night. On my way into town, I caught a glimpse of a pub’s enclosed backyard. There were people drinking, dancing and having fun. There was a young woman with a fiddle and a tall lad with a guitar. It looked like just the kind of scene I had craved in early-bedtime Sedona.
Journey North, in search of mountains and Home.
No sooner had I grabbed a Kombucha from the cooler and sat myself to watch the band that a handsome young man started talking to me. Our Kombucha conversation quickly turned metaphysical. Never mind the man’s youth – he must have been no older than 22 – the down-to-the-butt dread-locks, the ragged looking clothes and the unabashedly red marijuana-eyes, he was the real deal. In one short conversation, sitting at a pub, surrounded by a full crowd of merry-makers, he elucidated some concepts with which I had struggled for years. He was writing a book under the guidance of a philosophy professor at Berkeley. The focus of the book was humans’ timelessness and multidimensionality – A discussion of our true nature, including a full description of each realm and how to make the mental leap to each subsequent dimension, although he himself could “only” conceive of 7 (most people are hopelessly stuck in 3D), and some empirical evidence for his claims. I was tickled pink with fascination! We had so much to talk about that we decided to leave the pub for a less public venue. We drove up some dirt road to a viewpoint he knew well, sat on the tailgate of my truck (where he proceeded to snort a line of coke while giving me a detailed description of the process for my own trivial pool of knowledge and in full respect of my choice to not partake), watched the moon and stars and talked until well past midnight. I don’t remember his name and I never saw him or heard from him again. He was just a one-time unusual yet profound teacher on my path.
Multidimensional timelessness – or something like it.
But, he’s actually not the one I need for this story – sorry I digressed, but that bit was just too good not to share. Right before we left the pub, the dread-locked man’s best friend joined us briefly. Both of them oozed gentleness and friendliness, and I enjoyed talking to the friend just as much. He had his own marijuana farm, made a living from it exclusively, and also drank kombucha. He asked where I was going? And where was home? I told him that was a trick question, that I was on a journey north, looking for home. He took my hand between his two palms and said “oh, it looks like you’re going to New Hampshire. Do you have a connection with New Hampshire?” I didn’t at the time. NH was nowhere on my radar. I wasn’t opposed to NH, I just had not thought about it. So, that could explain where I got the NH energy that Michele read. But where did I get the NH energy that the dread-locked man’s best friend read?
Again, I’m sure there is a myriad of small incidents I didn’t register because I wasn’t aware I had “I’m going to NH energy”. There was an incident though, that I do remember well. It was December 2009. I led a very different life back then. I lived in a big house, I had a National Science Foundation Fellowship to study the active crater on Mt. Baker. I adored geology, my mountain, and the bright scientific future I could see straight ahead. This one day of my old life, in the bathroom, I read an article in the Alpinist Magazine. The woman who wrote the article was from New England. She had shown a talent for climbing in her younger years and had decided to move out west where the big mountains are. But, eventually, she missed her family, so she moved back east, to NH. In the article, she discussed how she found that she actually climbed a lot more here than in the west because of the accessibility. In NH, you can climb in the morning and go to work in the afternoon. You can have a lazy Saturday morning, climb something rad and epic, and still be home for dinner. That article stuck to me. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like, living in a place where you have ice so close that you can climb it on your way to work. I never did anything about it, but I did casually think about that article often.
Have I been going to NH since 2009? Have I been going to NH since I was born? Did I even have a choice in this? And, what happened to the bright future as a scientist I had in 2009? What about the future of finding a home in the western mountains back in June of last year? Was I going to NH all along and any other future I imagined was just a fantasy? The Universe must have had quite a kick out of me, if that’s the case. “Oh, look how cute? She thinks she’s going to be a geophysicist in Fairbanks. Let’s not tell her she’s bound for a retail job in Conway. She probably wouldn’t take well to it right now. She needs to grow into it slowly.” Or does the future change as we change? Does each moment, each small “Now”, hold its own future, an ephemeral inconsequential target?
A glimpse of an ephemeral future of one of my pasts
Well, get this …
Here I am, having just the kind of life the woman described in the article in 2009. Last weekend, I took a vertical ice climbing clinic for women. I got up, had tea, drove to a climb, felt epic on some scary vertical ice and was done by 3 pm – plenty of time for a shower and a relaxing evening at home. On the way back to the vehicles, the instructor, Majka Burhardt, asked me how I ended up in NH. I told her I wasn’t sure, but that it might have been on my mind for longer than I am aware, ever since that article I read back in 2009. I told her the story of the woman who had returned east to be with her family and found herself climbing more than on the big western mountains. She turned around and said “Are you messing with me right now?”. Huh, no, I most certainly wasn’t. “I wrote that article!” She said. I was flabbergasted. I’m still not quite over it yet. My instructor for the clinic was the same woman who wrote the article that led to my moving here, so I could take the clinic, five years later. Seriously!
Go East – Alpinist Mag # 29
That just seems like a lot of weird coincidences to me. I had actually forgotten about the men I met in the Rockies until I realized I might have been on my way to NH since 2009, after talking to Majka. I was remembering not only the best friend’s prediction, but also the dread locked man’s explanations of timelessness and multi-dimensionality.
If time isn’t linear, then this series of event makes a lot more sense. My love of being here would be a potent energetic imprint on the plot of my lifetime. Three-dimensional beings don’t have a lot of elbow room about what they can create – though we try! – but a 4 or 5 or -12 dimensional being would have access to all times simultaneously to create this Now.
Here is a quote from Liz Gilbert that touches on the same subject:
“My thoughts turn to something I read once, something the Zen Buddhists believe. They say that an oak tree is brought into creation by two forces at the same time. Obviously, there is the acorn from which it all begins, the seed which holds all the promise and potential, which grows into a tree. Everybody can see that. But only a few can recognize that there is another force operating here as well-the future tree itself, which wants so badly to exist that it pulls the acorn into being, drawing the seedling forth with longing out of the void, guiding the evolution from nothingness to maturity. In this respect, say the Zens, it is the oak tree that creates the very acorn from which it was born.”
So the Melissa who is currently in NH is pulling the 2009 Glacier Girl and the 2013 Roaming Bobcat into her current existence because she is having such a great time that she really wants to exists. This would mean that each Now not only has its own ephemeral future, but also its own ephemeral past. The intent to be me now is placing strategic acorns in the ground at key moments in my linear past (which all exist simultaneously in a timeless realm) to create a consistent linear plot line. I’m right now dropping an acorn in 2009, here is that article by Majka, which I know will stick in my mind because I can add the energy of just meeting her as fertilizer. Here is the acorn that will make me choose the freeway exit to ensure I meet the two Coloradans. And one that leads me to the Fortune Teller …
Holy smokes!!! Am I the only one here whose mind is boggled by this? If with each Now we are simultaneously creating our past, our future and our current reality, the possibilities are endless. I already have the LaSportiva Evo climbing boots. Poof! – somewhere three months ago, someone is buying boots that are going to be too small for them, so that she can put them on sale on ebay where I will find them (I did!). Why stop there? I’m already a successful published author in my linear future. Poof! I just dropped a bunch of acorns a few years ago to nudge just the right editors and publishers in my direction. I’m already in a healthy, harmonious, vibrant, loving relationship with a man I’m just about to meet. Poof! I just created a past where I went through the ringer with other relationships to clear obstacles for the one who’s already on his way, and I dropped an acorn in Michele’s tarot cards on October 27th of last year, as a teaser – and because I know it’ll make a good story, because I’ve already written it. Awesome!
Oh, the things I’ll create!!
You should too. Get to it!
P.S: I found Majka’s article. I haven’t reread it yet: Go East, by Majka Burhardt
View from home, NH, until the next Now kicks in.