Once one starts looking, one can find enlightenment everywhere. Along that yellow brick road, I heard so many stories of Enlightenment, I had to wear shades. Every one of them was true, that’s what the lightbulb over my head switched on to after a while, and it was freaking awesome. It was illuminating.
What’s more, the Enlightened listened to my story as well, stories of nanobots and Mayan cave spirits and dying on the floor, and they nodded in understanding. We all got it. We all knew the Truth. And it was a little bit different for each of us.
“The Black Pope of the Illuminati.” He was a big Texan, with a big beard and a big hat. He spoke in a low mumble, such that a person darn near had to crawl on up under that hat and get a good look at that beard to hear him. Once a person did, though, he had a great smile, and nice blue eyes. He kind of glowed with it.
“I was struck by lightening, twice, ten years apart to the day, ten miles apart on the railroad line, running a hand car from switch to switch in the no man’s land of west Texas. It’s my trade. Died both times and came back.”
I couldn’t see how the heck a body could be any more enlightened than that.
“So who’s the Black Pope?” I was worried he might be a bigot, but he didn’t feel like one. He had a nice guy vibe to him.
“The leader of the Society of Jesus Diabolical Plan for a New World Order. They control all the most powerful wavelengths on earth, took over when TV switched from analog to digital.” He was nodding. The word wavelength had captured my attention, the dude was a channel surfer, I could see it in his eyes. “It’s not a black guy. There’s a Cabal.”
The Black Pope. Far out.
Thing is, I was reading a book exactly just then, a Chris Moore book. The Illuminati were there. I’d just finished up a reread of Tom Robbins’ Skinny Legs and All when the belly dancer shimmied by, and a guy I’d met down by the lake had told me about a book he liked that was dedicated to Rennie, the Good Shepherd of Salem, my Savior. Little did I know it would turn out to be about Ishmael, the Gorilla who taught anthropology. The synchronicities hadn’t started interfacing just yet.
But I’m getting ahead of my self, or behind myself. I’m not sure sometimes.
A Beautiful Woman who emanated waves of purple joined us at the table. She had a concerned look on her face as she gave me the thrice over. She hesitated before speaking up.
“Excuse me, you’ve got some unusual energy blockages, and I’m a healer. Would you like for me to help you?” Her voice was like sunshine.
“Yes, please!” I’d been feeling blocked. Travel did that to me sometimes.
She started moving her hands over my pelvic region as I sat in the chair, allowing them to hover a discrete six inches or so over my body.
“You’ve got some blockage here, over Muladhara. It’s three dimensional.” Her brow was crinkled.
“Yes, that’s my reproductive potential, thirty five years worth of eggs hung up in scarred fallopian tubes, the result of youthful indiscretions.” I sighed, my greatest sorrow.
“Ah.” she said. She made a casting out motion with her hands and moved on. ‘And here, at Svadhishthana, sluggish digestion.”
“Uh huh. I ate pizza for two days and then got on an airplane. I’m a little plugged up.”
She made the motion again and I farted. Upward her hands moved, never touching me. She looked in my eyes and smiled as we chatted.
“You seem to be pretty in tune with this. What’s happening here at Manipura?”
“Smoker, tobacco for years and weed even longer.” I didn’t shrug, she had me in kind of a hypnotic state. I took a deep breath, starting focusing on my breath. She smiled.
“Oh my, and Anahata?” A tear had formed in her right eye.
“Oh, it’s been broken so many times we probably shouldn’t even go there.” I matched her with some shiny brine in my left. She cast out some sorrows by bringing forth a happy memory of one of those heartbreakers.
“Well, now, this is where you seem to shine. Vishuddha is just gushing, flowing really. You’re throwing blue all over the place.” She smiled. Her blue eyes were brilliant.
“Yes, well, I do tend to babble.” I smiled back at her. She wasn’t doing any casting out, she seemed to be drinking it in.
“What’s this at Ajna?” She gazed right between my eyes.
“That’s a zit.” It had popped up that morning, it was a doozey.
She did the casting out thing and it went away.
“WOW! How’d you do that?” I was amazed. The Texan was smiling. He knew the healer, they were old friends.
“The ETs taught me.” She smiled. “They came to me in the parking lot of a Carl’s Jr. in Choctaw in 1987 and gave me the gift. They were really very nice.”
It was totally true, and I knew it. She’d just managed to make me feel physically better than I’d felt in years, and cured a zit, like magic. And the guy who did the DMT research had made the connection with the ETs, it was no big leap at all. I thanked her with a hug. She stood back for a minute.
“Wow, for a second, you looked just like an eagle. A harpy.” She saw my smile fall down into frown. “I mean, oops, sorry. Harpies aren’t so bad.” She left us, more truth screaming its lungs out behind her. Eagles.
“ET’s, please,” the beard and hat mumbled, “everybody knows it’s the Illuminati. They’ve got control of the wavelength that controls the energy flow. That’s how you get the Kundalini rising. That or lightening, it’s quicker. That woman’s a little off her rocker.” He put on his dark glasses and snuck out the back way.
“Oh, there you are. Liz told me you’re the one who brought my family’s heart.” She was a forty something woman with a couple of cute kids in tow. “The one from Sedona?”
“The one the angel gave you?” Her young son looked up at me. That was the first I’d heard that the guy was an angel.
“Yes, I did. He said I’d know who it belonged to. I didn’t really, but I guess you do!” I smiled at her, she was beaming.
“Thanks so much, it’s just perfect. We spent our last summer as a family together there, back when there was one more of us, we had the best time ever. Our youngest passed away that year. This is from him, I just know it is.”
Wowza. Angels. That was pretty darned enlightening right there.
When the Spider dropped down on me from Cyber Space the next day, he surprised the silk out of me, but only for a minute. Things were getting clearer all the time, that’s what’s happens with Enlightenment. He synchronized my thinking in lots of ways, as I remembered him fondly. He was the guy who’d introduced me to SciFi and Time Pressure. I’d just been talking about him to Liz the previous day, the woman who’d just been talking to the family the Angel was looking for. He was replying to a two year old email, it all came oddly together in just the right way. Synchronicity.
By the time the Cosmic Science Guy was handing me a print out about my status as a person in the carbonicum subclass of the neodymium series while pointing his ray gun at me and asking for my toenail clippings, I felt pretty bright. Don’t get me wrong, the CSG is totally enlightened, a beautiful human being, a genius, I love him. We had this discussion. He's got a different Cabal than the Texan, or maybe it's the same one with a different name. Hell, I've got a Cabal, the Military Industrial Pharmaceutical Agricultural Oligarchy of Doom, and I'm fucking Enlightened.
Of course anybody who tells you she’s Enlightened doesn’t have any idea what she’s talking about, I guarantee. If she's enlightened, she's not saying so.
The Dragon was no fool.
It was the guy sitting there saying “I don’t know” who had the answer. Or as good an answer as anybody's.
Linda Brooke Stabler, Ph.D.