Read The Celestine Prophecy: An Adventure Online

Authors: James Redfield

Tags: #OCC013000

The Celestine Prophecy: An Adventure (28 page)

I caught Julia’s eye and said, “I haven’t quite grasped the Eighth Insight.”

“How we approach other people determines how quickly we evolve, how quickly our life questions are answered,” she said.

“How does that work?” I asked.

“Think about your own situation,” she said. “How have your questions been answered?”

“By people who came along, I guess.”

“Were you completely open to their messages?”

“Not really. I was mainly aloof.”

“Were the people who brought messages to you pulled back also?”

“No, they were very open and helpful. They …” I hesitated, unable to think of the correct way to express my idea.

“Did they help you by opening you up?” she asked. “Did they fill you with warmth and energy somehow?”

Her remark uncapped an eruption of memories. I recalled Wil’s soothing attitude when I was on the verge of panic in Lima, and Sanchez’s fatherly hospitality, and Father Carl’s and Pablo’s and Karla’s concerned counsel. And now Julia’s. They all had the same look in their eyes.

“Yes,” I said. “All of you have done that.”

“That’s right,” she said. “We have, and we were doing it consciously, following the Eighth Insight. By lifting you up and helping you to get clear, we could search for the truth, the message, that you had for us. Do you understand that? Energizing you was the best thing we could do for ourselves.”

“What does the Manuscript say about all this, exactly?”

“It says that whenever people cross our paths, there is always a message for us. Chance encounters do not exist. But how we respond to these encounters determines whether we’re able to receive the message. If we have a conversation with someone who crosses our path and we do not see a message pertaining to our current questions, it does not mean there was no message. It only means we missed it for some reason.”

She thought for a moment, then continued. “Have you ever run into an old friend or acquaintance, talked for a minute and left, then run into him or her again the same day or the same week?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied.

“And what do you usually say? Something like ‘Well, fancy seeing you again,’ and laugh and go on your way.”

“Something like that.”

“The Manuscript says that what we should do instead in that situation is to stop what we are doing, no matter what, and find out the message we have for that person, and that the person has for us. The Manuscript predicts that once humans grasp this reality, our interaction will slow down and become more purposeful and deliberate.”

“But isn’t that hard to do, especially with someone who wouldn’t know what you were talking about?”

“Yes, but the Manuscript outlines the procedures.”

“You mean, the exact way we’re supposed to treat each other?”

“That’s right.”

“What does it say?”

“Do you remember the Third Insight, that humans are unique in a world of energy in that they can project their energy consciously?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember how this is done?”

I recalled John’s lessons. “Yes, it is done by appreciating the beauty of an object until enough energy comes into us to feel love. At that point we can send energy back.”

“That’s right. And the same principle holds true with people. When we appreciate the shape and demeanor of a person, really focus on them until their shape and features begin to stand out and to have more presence, we can then send them energy, lifting them up.

“Of course, the first step is to keep our own energy high, then we can start the flow of energy coming into us, through us, and into the other person. The more we appreciate their wholeness, their inner beauty, the more the energy flows into them, and naturally, the more that flows into us.”

She laughed. “It’s really a rather hedonistic thing to do,” she said. “The more we can love and appreciate others, the more energy flows into us. That’s why loving and energizing others is the best possible thing we can do for ourselves.”

“I’ve heard that before,” I said. “Father Sanchez says it often.”

I looked at Julia closely. I had the feeling I was seeing her deeper personality for the first time. She returned my gaze for an instant, then focused again on the road. “The effect on the individual of this projection of energy is immense,” she said. “Right now, for instance, you’re filling me with energy. I can feel it. What I feel is a greater sense of lightness and clarity as I’m formulating my thoughts to speak.

“Because you are giving me more energy than I would have otherwise, I can see what my truth is and more readily give it to you. When I do that, you have a sense of revelation about what I’m saying. This leads you to see my higher self even more fully and so appreciate and focus on it at an even deeper level, which gives me even more energy and greater insight into my truth and the cycle begins over again. Two or more people doing this together can reach incredible highs as they build one another up and have it immediately returned. You must understand, though, that this connection is completely different from a co-dependent relationship. A co-dependent relationship begins this way but soon becomes controlling because the addiction cuts them off from their source and the energy runs out. Real projection of energy has no attachment or intention. Both people are just waiting for the messages.”

As she spoke I thought of a question. Pablo had said that I didn’t get Father Costous’ message at first because I set off his childhood drama.

“What do we do,” I asked Julia, “if the person we are speaking with is already operating in a control drama and trying to pull us into it? How do we cut through that?”

Julia answered quickly. “The Manuscript says if we do not assume the matching drama, then the person’s own drama will fall apart.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said.

Julia was looking at the road ahead. I could tell she was in thought. “Somewhere right through here is a house where we can buy some gasoline.”

I looked down at the gas gauge. It indicated the truck’s tank was half full.

“We still have plenty of gas,” I said.

“Yes, I know,” she replied. “But I had a thought about stopping and filling it up, so I think we should.”

“Oh, okay.”

“There’s the road,” she said, pointing to the right.

We made the turn and drove almost a mile into the jungle before arriving at what looked like a supply house for fishermen and hunters. The dwelling was built at the edge of a river and several fishing boats were tied to the dock. We pulled up to a rusty pump and Julia went inside to find the owner.

I climbed out and stretched then walked around the building to the water’s edge. The air was extremely humid. Although the thick canopy of trees blocked the sun, I could tell it was almost directly overhead. Soon the temperature would be scorching.

Suddenly a man behind me was speaking angrily in Spanish. I turned to see a short stocky Peruvian. He looked at me menacingly and repeated the statement.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He switched to English. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

I tried to ignore him. “We’re just here for gas. We’ll be gone in a few minutes.” I turned around and faced the water again, hoping he would go away.

He walked to the side of me. “I think you better tell me who you are, Yankee.”

I looked at him again. He appeared to be serious.

“I’m an American,” I said. “I’m not sure where I’m going. I’m riding with a friend.”

“A lost American,” he said hostilely.

“That’s right,” I said.

“What are you after here, American?”

“I’m not after anything,” I said, trying to walk back to the car. “and I’ve done nothing to you. Leave me alone.”

I noticed suddenly that Julia was standing at the vehicle. When I looked, the Peruvian turned and looked too.

“It’s time to leave,” Julia said. “They’re not in business any longer.”

“Who are you?” the Peruvian asked her in his hostile tone.

“Why are you so angry?” Julia asked in response.

The man’s demeanor changed. “Because it is my job to look after this place.”

“I’m sure you do a good job. But it’s hard for people to talk if you’re frightening them.”

The man stared, trying to figure Julia out.

“We’re on our way to Iquitos,” Julia said. “We’re working with Father Sanchez and Father Carl. Do you know them?”

He shook his head, but the mention of the two priests settled him down even more. He finally nodded and walked away.

“Let’s go,” Julia said.

We got in the truck and drove away. I realized how anxious and nervous I had been. I tried to shake it off.

“Did anything happen inside?” I asked.

Julia looked at me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean did anything happen inside to explain why you had the thought to stop?”

She laughed, then said, “No, all the action was outside.”

I looked at her.

“Have you figured it out?” she asked.

“No,” I replied.

“What were you thinking about just before we arrived?”

“That I wanted to stretch my legs.”

“No, before that. What were you asking about when we were talking?”

I tried to think. We were talking about childhood dramas. Then I remembered. “You had said something that had confused me,” I said. “You had said that a person cannot play a control drama with us unless we play the matching drama. I didn’t understand that.”

“Do you understand now?”

“Not really. What are you getting at?”

“The scene outside clearly demonstrated what happens if you
do
play the matching drama.”

“How?”

She glanced at me briefly. “What drama was the man playing with you?”

“He was obviously the Intimidator.”

“Right, and what drama did you play?”

“I was just trying to get him off my back.”

“I know, but what drama were you playing?”

“Well, I started off in my aloofness drama, but he kept coming after me.”

“Then?”

The conversation was irritating me but I tried to get centered and stay with it. I looked at Julia and said, “I guess I was playing a Poor Me.”

She smiled. “That’s right.”

“I noticed you handled him with no problem,” I said.

“Only because I didn’t play the drama he expected. Remember that each person’s control drama was formed in childhood in relation to another drama. Therefore each drama needs a matching drama to be fully played out. What the intimidator needs in order to get energy is either a poor me, or another intimidator.

“How did you handle it?” I asked, still confused.

“My drama response would have been to play the Intimidator myself, trying to out intimidate him. Of course, this would probably have resulted in violence. But instead I did what the Manuscript instructs. I named the drama he was playing. All dramas are covert strategies to get energy. He was trying to intimidate you out of your energy. When he tried that on me, I named what he was doing.”

“That’s why you asked why he was so angry?”

“Yes. The Manuscript says that covert manipulations for energy can’t exist if you bring them into consciousness by pointing them out. They cease to be covert. It is a very simple method. The best truth about what’s going on in a conversation always prevails. After that the person has to be more real and honest.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “I guess I’ve even named dramas myself before, though I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“I’m sure. That’s something all of us have done. We’re just learning more about what is at stake. And the key to making it work is to simultaneously look beyond the drama at the real person in front of you, and send as much energy their way as possible. If they can feel energy coming in anyway, then it’s easier for them to give up their way of manipulating for it.”

“What could you appreciate in that guy?” I said.

“I could appreciate him as a little insecure boy needing energy desperately. Besides, he brought you a very timely message, right?”

I looked at her. She appeared to be on the verge of laughter.

“You think we stopped there just so I could grasp how to deal with someone playing a drama?”

“That was the question you asked, wasn’t it?”

I smiled, my good feeling beginning to return. “Yes, I guess it was.”

A mosquito buzzing around my face forced me awake. I looked over at Julia. She was smiling as though recalling something humorous. For several hours after leaving the river camp we had ridden in silence, munching on the food Julia had prepared for the trip.

“You’re awake,” Julia said.

“Yes,” I replied. “How far is Iquitos?”

“The town is about thirty miles, but the Stewart Inn is only a few minutes ahead. It’s a small Inn and hunting camp. The owner is English and supports the Manuscript.” She smiled again. “We have had many good times together. Unless something has happened, he should be there. I hope we can get a lead on where Wil is.”

She pulled the truck to the side of the road and looked at me. “We’d better get centered in where we are,” she said. “Before I ran into you again, I had been floundering around wanting to help find the Ninth Insight but not knowing where to go. At one point I realized I had been thinking repeatedly of Hinton. I get to his house and who should show up but you. And you tell me that you’re looking for Wil and that he’s rumored to be in Iquitos. I have the intuition that we’ll both be involved in finding the Ninth Insight, and then you have the intuition that at some point we separate and go in different directions. Is that pretty much it?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, I want you to know that after that, I got to thinking about Willie Stewart and the inn. Something is going to happen there.”

I nodded.

She drove the vehicle back on the road and around a curve. “There’s the inn,” Julia said.

Ahead about two hundred yards, where the road took another sharp bend to the right, was a two-story, Victorian style home.

We pulled into a gravel parking area and stopped. Several men were talking on the porch. I opened the door of the vehicle and was about to get out when Julia touched my shoulder.

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