PREFACE
Content of „Bringers of the Dawn“, pg. xxi - xxvii, Preface.
Trapped in Bali! That's exactly how I felt, as I wondered why the bureaucratic necessity of an Australian visa had never been mentioned until now. With ticket and passport in hand and luggage on the scale, I was told I needed the document to board the flight bound for Darwin. My mind raced for the logic of the event and an immediate method to overrule it. I would will this one around! I was not new to this game and had been tested many times during the last four years on my ability to transform and transmute obstacles into messages and to move with the living symbols into a new vista of experience. Telexes were sent to the consulate in Sydney, and for the first hour's wait, I was certain I would be cleared, verified, and on my way to begin a Pleiadian teaching tour in the land down under. I had left North Carolina a week earlier, stopped in Hawaii for a brief visit, and now, after a three-day sojourn in Bali, was rested and ready to begin the next segment of a two-month odyssey.
I glanced at the terminal clock and noted the slow passage of minutes. I was patiently waiting for intentions and events to be set into motion. As time crept forward, its movement began a dawning within me that maybe, just maybe, I was not going to get on board. Perhaps this was going to be one of those times where, intend as I might, I was not going anywhere. I could feel my body resisting this new plan and the rearrangements that potentially would have to be made because I could not board the plane and meet my tour schedule. It felt ominous. Damn!
The eleven p.m. hour of departure had arrived, and with ticket, passport, and tour schedule, I was told to see the local Australian consulate on Tuesday, this being Saturday evening and Sunday and Monday being holidays. The next flight for Darwin was scheduled for the day after I was to be there.
I surrendered, located a taxi, and, luggage aboard, headed for the retreat and solitude of the quaint seaside Balinese hotel I had left hours earlier. My room was waiting. I did not have an immediate solution to this potentially aggravating dilemma, and knowing that, I dropped it. I moved into the personal cre¬ation of comfort and trust that somehow this would all turn out fine and that if I was to be trapped anywhere, Bali was certain¬ly ideal.
The next day, as I sat by the window of my treetop room, a second dawning brought the realization that I had committed to writing a preface for Bringers of the Dawn and that I was not going to move ahead into Australia until I was complete with that task! Sipping Balinese coffee, I was feeling nurtured by my surround¬ings and the lush vegetation that framed my view. I began to contemplate where to begin and how to insert into time and space myself and this phenomenal process called the Pleiadians that through me had created a life of its own.
As if haunted by a recurring dream, I have had the question put to me over and over again, how did it all begin? Early on I would respond by just delineating the impulses and sequence of events that had led to my actual channeling of the Pleiadians and stop there. Through the seemingly endless repetition of this question, however, an energy churned restlessly in my reality, and as I kept repeating the story, I began to get glimpses of a grander view, where events and beginnings came from many directions and multiple "times," to be woven, now, into a tap¬estry of purpose.
In childhood, I felt I was different and marked to stand out by inheriting an older brother who was mentally retarded. His presence offered many challenges to my young mind, and our family had many lessons to learn. It was only recently that I was impulsed by the P's, as I have affectionately come to call them, to reexamine old photos from childhood and to reconsider my interpretation of who I thought I was. Embracing this approach, this time I saw celestial-like love beaming from the face of my dear older brother, Donald, and in one photo after another the light seemed always to bend and illuminate him. I had not con¬sidered that I was, perhaps, blessed by his very presence.
Our family shared and explored its boundaries under the influence of my Polish maternal grandmother, Babci, who em¬bodied a dignity and a pride that transcended her earthly experience. A pioneer and product of the vast European immi¬grations of the early 1900s, she was drawn to the land where, she was told, the streets were paved with gold. It was under her stabilizing influence that my two brothers, my first younger sister, and I played as children, exploring the magical land that was her domain. It was through her that I felt truly loved and learned to have great reverence for the land and for the love of Earth. She told us that her maiden name meant "Star" in Polish. Those teachings of loving the Earth would later be echoed through the voice of my own star connection, the Pleiadians.
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