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Seashells
and Pearls
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It was end of January 2003.
I’d been feeling terrible for very long time then,
suffering from constant headaches, extreme tiredness,
muscular pain and a myriad of other problems.
But the doctors hadn't been able to tell me why. Eventually,
I was diagnosed with ME, or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome
for which the doctors again aren’t able to say
how and why, or what to do about it. Later on,
I found out for myself that my condition was most
probably caused or worsened by aspartame poisoning,
and I am now feeling well.However,
at the time I’m writing about I was desperate,
and tried to help myself in any way I could, so
I went to a hypno-therapist. She asked me what
was my earliest memory, and I explained how I
vividly remember being in hospital to have my
tonsils removed when I was 3 years old. That was
very traumatic for me, as the parents weren’t
allowed to stay with the children in the hospitals
at that time in Croatia. They could only visit
for a couple of hours a day. So I was left on
my own in a cot the whole day long, day after
day.The
older children in my room were running around,
playing and talking to each other, but I was too
little to join them. Once, an older girl helped
me to get out of the cot, but we were all told
off for running around. Unfortunately, I always
listened to what I was told and took things to
heart, so I didn’t try to get out of my cot again.
The nurses would speak to me briefly when they
had to take my temperature, and that was about
all of the human contact I had. My parents say
I didn’t acknowledge them or speak to them when
they would come to visit me, and that I was “never
the same” afterwards. They blamed themselves for
leaving me there.The
hypno-therapist said this event could be the reason
for my difficulties and that she would “regress”
me to that time. She helped me to go into deep
relaxation and get in touch with my feelings,
but I didn’t think that I really connected with
anything new. Whilst I was in this relaxation,
I was constantly aware of the fact that a total
stranger was asking me questions and giving me
instructions. When the session was over, she was
saying how I couldn’t forgive my parents for leaving
me there, and how this has made me overprotective
of my own children. I didn’t feel it was relevant
to my problems, as I’ve dealt with the issues
concerning my parents. I decided not to go back
for another session.Later
that day I got a bad migraine. I knew it was a
result of the feelings of great sadness that have
been brought up to the surface but not “vented”
properly. At the time, I had a ritual of going
to bed, getting my baby to go to sleep and than
sitting up, relaxing and talking to God. One night,
I decided to try to go back to that time in the
hospital on my own, to see if I'd be able to better
connect with that experience. My husband works
night shifts, and I was on my own.I wasn’t
very successful in my attempt because moments
after going into relaxation, I was asleep. I couldn’t
have been asleep for longer than a few minutes,
when I was woken up. I felt a gentle push in my
stomach area, as if someone had reached towards
me with a swooping motion but also reached inside
of my body. I opened my eyes, and realised a tear
was rolling down from my eye. A moment later I
understood why. Someone was there with me, someone
I couldn’t see, but someone who my soul knew so
well that my body’s instinctive reaction was to
shed that hot tear because I missed him so much.
But I hadn't a clue who he was…At the
same time this was happening, and this is very
weird to explain, I was reliving a moment that
happened to me when I was 3 and in the hospital.
I was given the understanding of what really happened
to me there. This understanding was offered to
me clearly by the power of the mind of the “person”
who was with me. Just like that. Amazing. I was
given the knowledge that as that 3-year old, looking
at the older children playing in my hospital room,
for the first time in my life, a thought was born
in my little mind that I was different to them
and somehow not worthy. That those children were
somehow better then me, playing about whilst I
was alone in my cot, and for me to be happy like
they were, I had to Do Something, become better,
prove myself… I’ve outgrown this idea as I learned
so much about spirituality, but to my mind at
the time, it was monstrous and scary to live in
the world in which I obviously wasn’t good enough
to be just as I was. The need to prove myself
to others would rule my life for many years to
come.“I was
there,” the voice said to me. It spoke inside
of my mind, clear and beautiful voice that resonated
through me. “But you turned your back to/on me.”
Some word seemed to have a double meaning, and
I understood all of the meanings at the same time.
Now I was in that cot again, my small body curled
up at the end of the mattress, feeling the same
immense love this person was giving me now. My
back was turned to him. Even though his words
were criticising me because I turned away, there
were no bad feelings, just a sense of tragedy
that we were both lonely in our own ways: I, because
I thought that nobody could care about me; and
he, because he was trying so hard to comfort me.
But I was looking for the solution to my problem
elsewhere.In these
moments, my consciousness felt weight down by
the power of this other mind, and I knew that
I was “held a prisoner” in a way, but I enjoyed
every moment of it. I was basking in this love
that was lavished on me.What
he said to me next was an internal joke, I tried
so hard for very long time to understand it completely.
My daughter has this film with Arnold Schwarzenegger,
called Jingle Bells. Arnold is a salesman, answering
phone calls by people ordering goods from his
company. He ends every phone call with the same
sentence: “No problem, because you’re my number
1 customer!” Eventually, his wife calls saying
he’s going to be late for his son’s karate class,
but he’s so flustered with work and everything
that he ends the conversation the same way as
his customer calls: “And remember you’re my
number 1 customer!” My daughter watched this movie
over and over again, and I know it whole by heart.
As I laid there in my bed, the voice which sounded
exactly as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s was saying
to me: “You’re my number 1 customer!” over and
over again.It was
funny. I smiled. It was like he was saying: "I
do this a lot for people, and I AM telling the
truth. You’re all Number Ones." But was I
really…? Then I had this wise idea that if this
was for real, I could ask for signs which are
going to confirm it. I felt the other “mind” laughing
at me teasingly, as if to say: "Come on,
try to think of something I don't think of first."
And really, whatever came to my mind, the person
with me had already thought of it and located
it in my house or wherever…or something like that.
I felt frustrated, but was smiling at the same
time, as I knew he was enjoying this little power
struggle with me.But
he was slowly letting my mind go, and pulling
away. The last I felt was that there was a conversation
going on between us on a deeper level I couldn’t
listen to consciously, but information was being
exchanged fast and furious. We were joking, fooling
around, teasing each other…something I felt we’ve
been doing with equal pleasure for eternities.
Just as, at first, my soul had recognized him
and cried a tear; now my soul was chattering to
him like we had never parted.And
then it was over. I was totally awake, wondering
"Who Was That!?" This question bothered
me just as much as the experience has left me
happy, uplifted and inspired. Was it God? Jesus?
Was it a person at all, or what? People talk about
Jesus, but I don’t have a religious background
and am not used to thinking about Jesus. I didn’t
feel that I really understand about him. Whatever
and whoever it was that interacted with me that
evening was an awesome power, but also full of
character. I love to quietly laugh about absolutely
everything in life, but not many people know or
understand my funny side. The subtle humour of
that encounter left me smiling for days. I found
that I was talking to this person who visited
me, just like I talked to God. I still talk to
him about things that are going on in my life
and whatever is bothering me at the time.Ten
months later, in the middle of the night, he woke
me up again. My mind was again enveloped in his,
and like before when I re-experienced the event
in the hospital, the power of his mind was taking
me to different times and places in my past. But
there was something different. This time, the
love I felt between us was much more intimate.
As he was taking me to and showing me bits and
pieces of my life, his voice was guiding me. “My
love is soft and gentle…” he was saying, using
the most beautiful comparisons to his love that
I ever heard of. He spoke in English, even though
my first language is Serbian. Some of the words
I clearly remember, some that were spoken were
only heard by my soul. He was taking me to a dozen
lovely moments in my life, when I was a little
girl.The
part I remember best is when he took me back to
the beach. I was seven or eight at the time. I
stood in the water, it was waist high. I held
seashells in my hand and was admiring the colours
of the rainbow I could see on the insides. I was
a child, truly enchanted by their beauty.The
voice was saying to me, “My love is soft and gentle…like
seashells and pearls. I was there with you. They
remind you of me. That’s why you like them so
much. Think of seashells and pearls, and you’ll
remember me.”After
he pulled away, I went downstairs to the kitchen
and made myself a cup of coffee. I sat at the
table, devastated. Yes, I was grateful for the
experience. But how do you carry on in this cruel
world after getting a helping of immense love
like that? And still I didn’t know who he was.
For all the seashells and pearls in the world,
still to this day, I haven’t remembered anything
new. But I had a hunch.A few
years back, I’d been having profound dreams in
which I wandered around, hand in hand, with a
most wonderful man ever. We were so in love, professing
our love to each other for long time. I couldn’t
see or remember what he looked like. Then the
setting would change in my dream, and he would
become someone else, and then I would be in a
regular old dream.Once,
as our walk ended, the setting and feeling of
the dream changed, and I saw my husband. My lover
was still standing next to me, and I felt a huge
amount of guilt seeing my husband. I pointed at
him and said, “He is the love of my life.”But
my lover slowly shook his head and said, “No,
I am.”I protested
in my dream. I insisted that I loved my husband
and had no intentions of getting divorced. I am
an honest person, I would never cheat. It was
silly, really, my dreams and reality getting mixed
up like that. I couldn’t discern that one was
life and one was dream. But it was so obvious
that I was lying to myself by saying “My husband
is the love of my life”, because what I felt for
my lover was the most beautiful love ever.He patiently
insisted, “No, I am.”Now,
sitting at the table drinking my coffee at 3 in
the morning, I had a hunch that the guy from my
dreams had just paid me another visit. I was so
comfortable in my spiritually, I could handle
believing that, perhaps, after this hard life
on Earth is over for me, there is someone dear
to my heart waiting for me…Not
long ago, I spoke to a psychic I didn’t know at
all. I specifically asked her to enlighten me
on the two experiences I had when I was woken
up and taken to see events from my past by this
loving person. I refrained from giving her any
details. She said she had a man with her, who
felt very Godly, very much like a sage. He was
giving her a name, a long name starting with an
A. He knew I was going through some difficult
times in my marriage, and was there to give me
help and guidance. In one of my previous lives,
she said, he was my husband. We would be together
again, but not for many years. Until then, I should
carry on talking to him, and he will lead me through
the life’s challenges.Whether
the psychic was right or not, one thing is for
sure: I am loved. As for the notion of "soul
mates" who knows? No matter what our love
lives here may be like, perhaps there’s someone
special watching over us who so yearns for just
one little thing: acknowledgement. Zana Cvjetkovic, UK |
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Copyright
© 1992-2006 by Betty J. Eadie |
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