The Reincarnation of Edgar Cayce

By White Feather

This is a fast-paced, exciting spiritual adventure story about the transformations of Sarah Benson, a thirty-something country western singer/songwriter who had fallen into a rut. She had not written a song in over a year, her relationship was on the rocks, and she was working at a job that she hated. Although she desparately wanted to change, Sarah could not seem to bring that change about.

And then the dreams started.... Sarah Benson began having recurring dreams of a mystical bookstore. The dreams continued for months until finally she took action. She went on a vacation! Of course, it was not so much a vacation as it was a spiritual quest to find and unlock the artist within and experience true personal growth. And she also hoped to find that bookstore that she dreamed so much about in the real physical world. In her quest, Sarah's awake life and her dream life started to blend and merge. In the process, her conscious dreams also came under examination. With her life collapsing around her, she wondered what her true purpose was in life and her dreams and her guidance led her to new understandings about that--as well as to new understandings about music.

Sarah's quest also led her straight into a mystery involving Edgar Cayce, a mysterious man in a bookstore, and more intense lucid dreams about times in the distant past. Her attempt to solve this mystery became a quest of its own.

From the backwoods of Arkansas to the mountains of Colorado, Sarah's roller coaster adventure will make you sigh, it will make you laugh, and tears may be shed. And it will certainly make you think.

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Feather
• Release date: Feb 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301486601

White Feather

Author of numerous books, White Feather has been writing stories and essays for a few decades and currently lives on the Great Plains of Turtle Island.

Book preview

The Reincarnation of Edgar Cayce

A Novel by White Feather

Copyright 2012, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2013

Cover design/photo Copyright 2012, by White Feather

This is a work of fiction.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

No part of this book may be copied without express written permission from the author

Published by:

Lip Gravy Press

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Table of Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Book by White Feather

Part One

Sarah Benson left Arkansas before sunrise and she drove west all day. It was as though she were racing the sun to the western horizon. Though she had a head start, the sun won the race. It was dark when Sarah stopped for the night in Canon City, Colorado. She had been driving all day over endless prairie and was exhausted. She wanted to be fresh and have light to see the approaching mountains. Sarah Benson had never been to Colorado before.

Sarah was looking for a bookstore, but not just any bookstore. It was a bookstore that had appeared repeatedly in her dreams for the previous six months. The most frustrating part of her quest was that she had no idea what she was supposed to find at this bookstore. She had never done anything so blindly before. She had never traveled so far before without a specific destination that she could find on a map. Now, she knew only that this bookstore existed somewhere in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. She had no idea what town this bookstore might be in, or what it was called, or how she would find it. She was determined to find it, though.

That is, if it really even existed. Sarah had her doubts. She played with those doubts as she stared at the big sky above the panorama of gently rolling prairie while driving all day. The bookstore was very vivid in her dreams and it was always the same, but she had only seen the inside of it. It was while she was meditating one day that she asked her inner guidance where the bookstore was. She found herself flying through a long snaking canyon up into tall snowcapped mountains. Since she had never been to Colorado before, she really wasn’t certain it was Colorado that she had seen in her meditation. But she had a strong feeling. Not one who normally follows feelings unquestioningly, waves of doubt seemed to wash over her periodically, clouding the otherwise joyful drive.

It felt good to just get in the car and go. It also felt good to be doing it alone. Sarah had thought about asking her dear friend Nancy to come with her, but she never did. And there was no question about her boyfriend going. That is what part of this was all about; a break from him.

It was not long after settling into her motel room that Sarah was sound asleep. She took her journal to bed with her thinking she would record some of the many thoughts that floated through her mind during her long drive, but the journal ended up on the bedside table without being updated. Once she had pen in hand and the journal open, all those thoughts seemed to drain away. She was too tired. She was even too tired to wonder, before she closed her eyes, if she would dream about the bookstore again.

***

Sarah had been keeping a journal for nine years; ever since she was twenty-two years old. She used fat three-subject spiral notebooks. She had one for each of the last nine years. Some of them were only two-thirds or three-fourths full, but most of them were full of entries. On two different years she posted her last entry of the year on the last page. That’s why she kept buying three-subject notebooks; they seemed the perfect size. This year, though, it was September already and she only had about forty pages left blank in her spiral notebook journal. Who knew it would be a five-subject year for Sarah?

Who knew the relative bliss she had been experiencing for the last three years could come unraveled so easily? It all began back in March when Sarah was bedridden for two weeks with a particularly virulent flu. She was completely incapacitated. It was the sickest she had ever been. It was as though for two weeks she had withdrawn from her reality. When her body and mind finally came back, there was a noticeable change in her life. It was as though all her perspectives were tweaked and she saw everything differently, even if only by a barely discernable difference.

There was no journal entry recorded while she was sick. After two weeks of no entries, the journal finally continued with the recording of the very first dream about the bookstore. In the ensuing six months Sarah dreamed about the bookstore a total of twenty-one times, as dutifully recorded in her spiral notebook. Her twenty-second time would be her last. It occurred in the early morning after arriving in Canon City. Unlike the first time she dreamed of the bookstore, Sarah did not wake up in a start. She casually opened her eyes, relishing the sensations that always accompanied the dream. They were sensations of joy. Those sensations are what spurred Sarah to try to find the bookstore that appeared to be the source of those sensations. How could a simple little bookstore produce such incredible vibrations?

***

Sarah slowly cracked her eyelids half open; just enough to realize she was in her motel room in Canon City, Colorado and that it was getting light. Quickly, she closed them again and sank back into the sensations of the dream bookstore.

She never saw anyone while she was there. She just wandered the bookstore in her dreams soaking in the joyful feelings. She never pulled any books off the shelves to look at or even bothered to read any of the titles. It was the feelings the books emanated that Sarah found so appealing. It was as though she did not even have to read any of the books; she just had to feel their vibrations.

The air in her dream bookstore seemed to be charged. There were a lot of plants in the bookstore and this seemed to add to the life-force energy considerably. And there was always beautiful soft music playing.

In the bookstore there were tall windows with potted plants on the deep windowsills. Sun shafted in several of these windows leaving plant shadows on the wooden floor. The ceilings and walls and bookshelves were all white. Books of every color filled all the shelves to capacity. Slowly walking through that bookstore in her dream, Sarah had the feeling that she was walking through knowledge. And she did not have to think about it; just feel it wave through her. It was a feeling she wanted to recreate in the physical non-dream state; in her awake life. What better way than to find the real bookstore?

***

Sarah abruptly sat up in her motel room bed. She reached for her journal and pen on the night table. Opening up the spiral notebook, she wondered what to write. There was no point in describing the dream. She had already done that twenty-one times. It was basically the same every time. She wondered how long the dream would continue to be experienced by her. Would it stop when she found the real bookstore? But she did not write anything down about that. She just wrote, Bookstore Dream #22.

***

The three-subject spiral notebook full of dreams and inspirations and ramblings was soon packed in the car along with Sarah’s other luggage, including her guitar. Sarah liked to pack lightly and get on the road early. There would be time for the guitar later.

While she left her best friend and her boyfriend back in Arkansas, Sarah had a reason to bring her guitar along with her to Colorado. It had been over a year since she had written a song. In addition to finding her dream bookstore, trying to write a song was an important part of this trip. Sarah felt that she was in a creative rut back home. She was blocked and a change in scenery just might be what could un-block her.

Maybe she just needed to get away from him; her boyfriend Peter. Music is what originally brought them together and for the first few years together Sarah had been very creative with her music. They created music together then but now that the relationship was on the rocks there was no longer any spark generated between them.

Sarah Benson is a musician. If one bumped into her on the street and asked her ‘what she did,’ she probably would not mention being a musician. She would probably say that she works for the law firm of Douglas, McIntyre, and Simpson. She would probably then add that she worked as a legal secretary—just to make sure one did not think she was a lawyer. She didn’t particularly like lawyers.

But the truth is that Sarah Benson is a musician. That is her driving passion. Both her parents were musicians and they steered her in that direction from an early age. Sarah had many musical instruments around the house to play with but the one instrument she seemed most attracted to, was her grandmother’s harp. Sarah’s mother had inherited it but did not play it commandingly as she was mostly a French horn player. It was in the basement when Sarah discovered it at age six. After much pleading, the harp was brought upstairs, dusted, tuned and given a prominent place in the music room where Sarah played it every day.

Eventually she took lessons and became a good harpist. At the age of sixteen, Sarah began playing the harp professionally with the local symphony orchestra. It was her harp that got her that college scholarship and it also provided an income while she went to school. But while the harp always remained the dearest to her heart, Sarah began exploring other modes of musical expression while in college. While she loved the harp she could not imagine making a living from it. Once her music degree was in hand, Sarah immediately left the music world altogether. She had been surrounded by it since a small child and she needed some time away from it.

So Sarah spent a few years living in Chicago and working a string of jobs; none of which had anything to do with music. The Lost Years is how she refers to that time in her spiral notebook journals. It all ended when Sarah visited her college friend Nancy in Arkansas. It was in autumn and the Ozarks were ablaze in their fall foliage. The serenity of the countryside took hold of her and she truly relaxed for the first time in years. How wonderful to be out of the city! The peace she felt there in Arkansas allowed for the rekindling of music in her heart.

But instead of turning to her harp, Sarah picked up her guitar. She became a country-western songwriter—at least when she wasn’t working for Douglas, McIntyre, and Simpson. All she needed was a few hits and she could kiss Douglas, McIntyre, and Simpson good-bye. After five and a half years with the aforementioned law firm, those hits had so far eluded her, but she was bound and determined to create them. Everything hinged upon that intention.

Sarah and Peter had written several nice songs together back when their love was hot and the local band that Peter played for used them when they were on tour but none of them created a sensation. While they were great songs, they were not hits. And they had not written a song together in a year.

With spiral notebooks and guitars packed snugly away in the back of her Subaru wagon, Sarah filled her car with gas, bought some fruit, and then left Canon City, heading up into the mountains. She was glad that she had asked Peter not to call her during her trip. If she had any hope of writing a song she simply had to create some distance between her self and Peter.

***

As Sarah left the prairie and entered the mountains she became transfixed by the landscape. The foothills of the mountains were desert and a stark contrast to home back in Arkansas. Sarah was amazed by all the color of the rocks and soil sprinkled with dots of green shrubbery.

Sarah’s spirit was beginning to soar when suddenly her head was filled with thoughts of her dear friend and room mate Stichomancy Nancy. That had been Sarah’s nickname for her since college when Nancy introduced Sarah to the act of stichomancy, which is divination by lines or passages in a book taken randomly. Nancy had a big fat unabridged dictionary on her desk at college and she would close her eyes, open the book at random then drop her finger somewhere on the page. Then she would open her eyes and read the definition her finger landed on.

It was great fun at first. Often both of them ended up rolling in laughter. And sometimes they were amazed by how perfect the definition was in regard to their situation. There was definitely something to it but Sarah never pursued it much—she didn’t have to; she had Nancy whose finger was ever ready to drop down onto a book.

Suddenly, the phone in Sarah’s purse began ringing. Sarah’s face lit up with a smile. That would be Nancy on the phone. Quite often Sarah would suddenly think about Nancy right before Nancy called.

Retrieving the phone from her purse, Sarah answered it, Hello.

By-product. It was Stichomancy Nancy.

By-product?

Yup, that’s your stichomancy for the day; by-product. ‘Something produced in the process of making something else.’

Nancy, I sure don’t see how that has anything to do with what I’m doing.

Well, give it some time. So are you in the mountains yet?

Yes, I am driving into them right now. It’s beautiful!

Well great. You say hello to those mountains for me. Listen, are you going to be gone for your entire two-week vacation?

I told you I really don’t know. Hopefully, I’ll be back within a couple of days to rest up before going back to work. And thanks for bringing work up.

I didn’t bring work up. I mentioned vacation, the opposite of work. You know, most people just relax and have fun on vacations, but you’re spending your vacation frantically looking for a bookstore that may or may not exist.

Hey, I’m having fun and relaxing while I do it. I am on vacation, too. I’m just looking for a song and a bookstore on the side.

Kind of like a by-product? Nancy laughed.

Sarah had to laugh back. She also had to pay closer attention to traffic which was getting heavier. A car was in the process of passing Sarah on the two-lane highway and her attention stayed with her driving while being passed.

You still there, Sarah?

I’m here but I’m suddenly caught in some busy traffic. Someone just passed me going about 80 and now someone else is right on my tail. On top of that the road is starting to do a lot of curving and I think we’re headed into a canyon.

Ooh cool. Just like the canyon in your meditation?

We’ll see. There’s a river just to the right of the road.

The Arkansas River, right?

Yup. It looks a lot different up here, though. I’ve seen some kayaks and rafts coming down the river. It’s definitely more of a mountain river up here.

Well, don’t forget to have fun. If you treat it like a vacation foremost I think you’ll get the most out of it. Don’t look for the bookstore. Allow yourself to be drawn to it in your play.

Right.

And don’t be disappointed if you don’t find it. There may be a bigger purpose in the looking for it. Heck, maybe it’s a way for spirit to get you to finally get away and have a vacation.

I know it exists, Nancy, and I’m going to find it. Usually when it came to New Age metaphysics it was Nancy who was going off the deep end and Sarah who tried to keep her grounded in reality. While Nancy jumped on every new concept and fad, Sarah preferred the older stuff like the Edgar Cayce teachings. Now, they had switched places and it was Sarah going off the deep end—looking for a dream bookstore—and Nancy who was trying to ground Sarah. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing but you don’t have to worry.

Well, just don’t turn it into some mission.

What’s wrong with a mission?

Missions produce missionary zeal, an acidic substance than can be very dangerous and annoying. Missions keep our focus narrow, letting us miss some of the side shows. In the missionary position, the male is on top in full command. A mission is a male thing.

Jesus had a mission.

No, he didn’t.

Yes, he did!

No, he didn’t, but if he did it was definitely a male thing. You didn’t see Mary proclaiming her great mission.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t have a mission.

She may have had some objectives but she didn’t fulfill them by making their fulfillment a mission. She did it in a female way….

Whoa!

Are you okay?

Yeah. Boy this road is getting curvier. The river is like ten feet off the road and in some places less. And there are no guard rails. I wonder how many people take a curve too fast and end up in the river.

Well just slow down.

I can’t. There are like ten cars behind me all wishing I would speed up. Yikes. Those big semis don’t slow down at all.

Maybe you should pull over and let everyone pass.

There’s no place to pull over—except into the river.

Just then, a lot of static came over the phone. Nancy? But Sarah only heard static and put the phone in her lap so she could use both hands to navigate a sharp curve in the road. Around the curve, she picked the phone back up.

…and that’s why it’s easier.

Nancy?

Yeah, I’m here but you’re starting to break up.

The canyon walls are getting higher. I don’t think we’ll be able to hold a good connection while I’m going through this canyon. And I need to focus on driving, so I’ll…. Sarah got an ear-full of static, Nancy?

Sarah turned the phone off and placed it on the passenger seat next to her purse; and just in time as she entered another sharp curve in the road.

***

Sarah’s full attention was now on the curving road and the traffic. Her firm grip on the steering wheel turned her knuckles white. She felt her blood pressure rising and sweat forming on her forehead. Seeing the line of cars in her rear-view mirror set her heart thumping. There was a lot of traffic coming towards her, too. She was obviously going too slowly for all those drivers behind her but Sarah could not imagine going any faster around those S curves. Though she stared intently at the road ahead of her, she was all too aware of the gushing mountain river in her periphery.

After finishing one curve, Sarah found herself turning into another curve, though this curve was even tighter. She had to apply the brakes to keep on the road. And right at this point the river was just a few feet off the road. Her heart was in her throat but there simply was no place to get off the road.

Sarah considered herself to be a good driver but she had never driven in the mountains before; hills, yes, but mountains, no. She was on the verge of panic when suddenly the car that had been directly behind her went zooming past her on her left.

Oh, my God! That idiot is passing me on a curve! Sarah said to herself. Her mouth opened in bewilderment and terror. Suddenly, she saw another vehicle coming around the curve towards her on the other side of the road. Sarah thought she was about to witness and be a part of a wreck. There was nothing she could do but lightly apply her brakes. If she hit them hard the car behind her would go right through her car. The only other alternative would be to turn to the right off the road and into the river.

But Sarah did not have time to think about her options. She held her breath and lightly hit her brakes just as the passing car pulled back onto her side of the road directly in front of her. The car barely got back on the right side of the road before the oncoming car passed and it just barely cleared Sarah’s car.

Sarah was on the verge of hyperventilating as the car that had passed her sped ahead of her. Looking in her rear-view mirror she saw that the next car behind her seemed ready to pass her, too. But she could not think about that for she found her self turning into another tight curve.

She searched ahead frantically for a place to pull off the road but the only thing to the right of the road was the rocky embankment leading down to the river. Fear had gripped her from head to toe. She did not think she could take much more.

The road curved around a giant outcropping of rock. A sheer rock cliff over a hundred feet tall came within a few feet of the other side of the road. After curving around the rock cliff, the road straightened out—but only for a short while. In the mirror, Sarah saw the car behind her start to pass her. The panic level jumped back up but that is when she suddenly spotted an exit on the right up ahead. She noticed that the river meandered away from the road at this point and there was some land between the road and the river. And on this little spot of land was a rest area.

This is when Sarah spotted a car coming on the other side of the road. Once again, the car passing her had to pull back onto the right side of the road directly in front of her. Her turn signal was already on, though, and Sarah was slowing slightly. Just as the car passing her turned in front of her, the oncoming car whizzed by, and Sarah turned off the road into the rest area. She then had to hit her brakes hard for she was going too fast. As Sarah braked on the dirt and gravel a big cloud of dust rose into the air. Luckily, she did not hit anything nor over shoot the drive. After coming to a stop she only had to go a little further to park in a space, which she did, then she turned the car off.

Sarah sat there in her car for quite a while letting her blood pressure come back down and her breathing to return to normal. This was not what she was looking for in a vacation (or a mission). Finally, she got out of the car and walked down to the river.

***

The path down to the river was not long but descended enough that when Sarah stood right beside the river she could just barely hear the highway traffic. She was far enough below the traffic to completely put it out of her mind and the quiet roar of the cascading river made it all the easier. She found a relatively large flat rock jutting out into the river and sat on it. As she stared at the whitewater river all the tension she had felt in the traffic slowly disappeared and her heartbeat returned to normal and her body relaxed.

Sarah had been meditating for over a dozen years. She had taken up the practice soon after first encountering books about Edgar Cayce. Her childhood had been, for the most part, devoid of religion and spiritual practices. It was in the summer after her high school graduation that she came across an Edgar Cayce book in a practice hall while waiting to begin a rehearsal. It was just sitting there on a folding metal chair, not near anyone else’s belongings. Picking it up out of boredom, she had no idea how it would change her life.

Sarah had been on a spiritual quest ever since. She devoured the Edgar Cayce material then branched out to numerous other metaphysical and spiritual teachers. She studied the Seth teachings, took some yoga courses and a course in Transcendental Meditation, read the Tao Te Ching and other older classics, and read a good deal of the popular New Age authors like James Redfield and Deepak Chopra. Normally, Sarah started her day with meditation but she was in too much of a hurry to get out of the motel and on her way to find that dream bookstore that she skipped it today. Perhaps that is why she let herself get into that scary driving situation.

Getting into a lotus position, Sarah prepared to meditate. Normally, she meditated indoors in the privacy of her bedroom. Her yoga pillow was in her car but she was not about to go back for it. To her surprise, she found the flat rock fairly comfortable. As she began taking deep breaths, the sound of a large semi truck on the road echoed through the canyon. After the truck had passed Sarah focused her attention on the sound of the river flowing past her. She had a small indoor water fountain back home in Arkansas which she listened to while meditating but that was nothing compared to the sound of the Arkansas River flowing directly in front of her. The water fountain was like a flute and the river was like a symphony. Before long, all traffic noise seemed to cease and all Sarah could hear was the roar of the mountain river.

Allowing the sound of the river to fully engulf her, Sarah slowly lost awareness of her body and her consciousness seemed to float away into the ethers. She let herself drift and soon began seeing images of landscapes; hills, mountains, trees, lakes, animals, and clouds. She luxuriated in the sensations and images, not directing her awareness but just allowing it to flow of its own accord. It was soothing and relaxing and joyous. But soon the images dissipated and she found herself in a cave.

It was not just any cave, though. It was the same cave she found herself in while meditating for many years. She felt very at home in this cave ever since first finding herself there while learning to meditate so many years before. This cave was the one place she felt totally secure and at peace in. She had originally visualized the cave to create just such a place but now she did not have to consciously visualize it. It would just appear—or rather she would just suddenly find herself in it.

It was in this cave that Sarah met with her spirit guide while meditating. Her friend Nancy was the only person she had ever told about her cave and her spirit guide. She realized that most people would not believe her if she told them about her guide for her guide was Edgar Cayce. She was quite shocked the first time Edgar Cayce’s spirit form showed up in that cave but after several years of meeting him there it had become expected. Whenever Sarah was faced with tough life challenges she would go into meditation with the intent of visiting this cave and meeting with Edgar Cayce to get advice. He would always show up and would always tell her just what she needed to know.

Nancy had once suggested that it was really her own higher self that gave her the advice and that Sarah made the image appear as Edgar Cayce because Cayce’s teachings were what she trusted and resonated to. She admired Cayce so she dressed up her own guidance as Cayce as a way of trusting her own guidance. Sarah had given that notion considerable thought and she realized there was probably a lot of truth to that but she still chose to believe that it was actually the soul of Edgar Cayce who was her spirit guide.

Finding herself in the middle of the cave, Sarah looked around. It was exactly the same as always. It wasn’t a very large cave; about the size of a large room though it was round—or more precisely oval-shaped. The ceiling of the cave was arched and higher than a normal room ceiling; around twenty feet high in the center. In the middle of the cave were three rocks that served as furniture. She would sit on one of the rocks and then Edgar Cayce would come in and sit on another rock while he taught her and counseled her. The third rock always remained empty.

Sure enough, soon after sitting on one of the rocks, Edgar Cayce walked into the cave from an opening in the back of the cave. He walked slowly over to Sarah and sat down on one of the rocks next to her. He always appeared as an older man and looked just like his image in the many photographs Sarah had seen of him. He wore a 1930’s style business suit but without the tie. The top button on his shirt was unbuttoned; the only hint in his attire at casualness. His movement and general presence, however, was very casual. Though a perfect gentleman, he was never stiff, his relaxed atmosphere affecting Sarah’s own state. Pushing his metal-framed glasses up his nose, he said with an infectious smile, Greetings, Sarah.

Hello. It always amazed her how she would instantly relax upon being in his presence.

Looking directly into her eyes, he spoke softly, You are on a journey I see.

Yes, I am searching for that bookstore that I’ve been dreaming about for so long.

Mr. Cayce smiled.

I remember what you said about how we experience things in our dreams before we do in real life. Since I keep dreaming about that bookstore I figure I must be going to actually be in it in real life sometime.

He smiled again.

I have a lot of doubt, though, about actually looking for it. I don’t know where it is or where to look. I’m afraid I won’t find it. And there seems to be so many obstacles. I just found myself in some horrible traffic and I was truly scared and I had to wonder if I was putting myself in danger by following this quest.

He crossed his legs and looked off into the distance, Your journey, your quest, is a metaphor for life. Everyone’s life is like a journey. They don’t always know where they are going or what they are looking for or what compels them to continue. He looked back at her, "And the traffic and the obstacles on your path, are placed there by you!"

Me?

"Those obstacles represent all your fears and doubts and insecurities. You place them there to understand them and provide yourself with the opportunity to move beyond them. To go on a journey through life is a joyous experience and the only things preventing you from experiencing that joy are all those obstacles you place before you."

But why would I place so many obstacles in my path?

To learn. How can you learn what joy is unless you learn what joy is not? How can you overcome your fears unless your fears are right there in front of you to see? How can you overcome your doubts unless you place them out in plain view?

So all that nasty traffic was the result of me; of my doubts and fears?

He smiled, Yes.

Am I going to have to put up with that the whole trip?

It’s up to you. You can instead choose to focus your attention on joy. Look for beauty and embrace that beauty and your ‘traffic’ will get smoother.

Enjoy the trip, in other words.

Yes, he laughed.

Can you give me any hints on finding this bookstore?

He looked down in thought for a moment then looked back into her eyes, I would say, instead of trying to find the bookstore, try to allow your self to stumble upon it. Focus on and feel the feeling you get when you are in the bookstore in your dreams. That feeling will draw you to it.

Somehow I thought you would say something like that. There aren’t any signs I should look out for?

There are road signs everywhere. You can go crazy following each one. The best signs you can follow are your feelings. And remember; don’t be afraid to surrender.

***

The cave and Edgar Cayce suddenly dissipated as Sarah was overcome with the thundering sound of honking geese. She opened her eyes to see dozens of geese flying low over the river heading up into the mountains. They were flying no more than ten feet above the water. The cacophony of their honking echoed off the canyon walls. Being so close to them she could see their bodies and wings move in flight and their bills opening as they honked. She watched in awe as the procession of geese flew past her. Their beauty filled her with joy and excitement. A smile of delight erupted on her face.

As the last goose flew past her and the symphony of honking diminished, Sarah looked around her. She looked up at the canyon wall on the other side of the river. There were many exposed layers of rock of different color and their artistic contours were mesmerizing. Mother Nature is such a great artist, she thought to herself.

She then looked at the cottonwood trees growing on the other side of the river; their leaves shimmering in the breeze and sunlight. Underneath the tall cottonwoods was a thicket of short willows that lined the river bank, providing a horizontal swath of pale green bordering the white and gray of the water. Continuing to luxuriate in the sound of the water, she then looked up into the very blue sky. Very high up she saw a bird soaring and wondered if it was a hawk or eagle. It was too high up and too close to the sun to tell.

Bringing her focus back down to earth she turned her head looking all around her. Beauty, indeed! She thought. There was beauty all around her. She was in a paradise. She took some deep long breaths as though to pull that beauty inside her. Allowing no thoughts to cloud her mind, she allowed the beauty to envelop her.

Slowly, she became aware of a tightness in her body. The rock she was sitting on was suddenly very hard and uncomfortable. She began to get out of her lotus position and stand up when she turned her head to her left and saw a chipmunk on a rock just a few feet away from her. She froze so as not to startle the chipmunk. The chipmunk was looking directly at her and not moving—except for its nose, which was furiously sniffing the air.

How adorable! Sarah thought to herself. It seemed the chipmunk was looking directly into her eyes. In her mind, she sent love to the chipmunk, surrounding it with a bubble of white light. Finally, the chipmunk made some chattering sounds while flicking its tail. Abruptly, it