Hearing Voices

By Beth Thran Bunch

Hearing and seeing peoples thoughts is frightening and exhausting.

To Hannah Davis, its more a curse than a gift. She has carried this burden for as long as she can remember, and it keeps her from forming meaningful relationships or holding on to jobs.

Finding herself, once again, at a crossroads, an invitation from a stranger prompts the young woman to quit her job and head to1980s Sedona.

The weeklong retreat challenges Hannah to confront her feelings about her ability. The exercises presented to Joyful Explorers participants trigger new psychic encounters and stir up memories and flashbacks of haunting visions.

Journey with Hannah as she experiences a sweat lodge, guided visualizations, and a vision quest. Learn self-awareness techniques that you can use to find joy and a sense of inner peace in your own life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Aug 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504386449

Beth Thran Bunch

Beth Thran Bunch’s first novel draws on some of her experiences along her spiritual path begun in the 1980’s. She began her training as a massage therapist in the late 80’s, focusing on John Barnes’ myofascial release and Upledger techniques as well as a variety of energy healing modalities. Beth is a Reiki master/teacher and BFRP (Bach Flower Registered Practitioner) currently practicing her energy healing modalities in Brevard, NC.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 Beth Thran Bunch.

Cover Art: Elizabeth Vingle

Cover Design: Bob Antler, Antler Designworks

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-8621-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-8622-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-8644-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017912647

Balboa Press rev. date: 08/18/2017

Contents

A Rough Start

Connecting to the Past

A Friendly Greeting

Flashback

Coming to La Paz

Memories

The Arrival

Introductions

Building the Fire

Sweat Lodge

Outed

Clouddancer

I’m Wrong

Forgiveness

Breathwork

Trust

Awareness

The Smell of Memory

Letting Go

Chakras

Balancing Energies

Asking the Right Question

Meditation Brings Peace

Hearing Voices

The Web of Life

Joyful Integration

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Hearing Voices is

dedicated to everyone who has the courage to step onto the path of self-discovery and the willingness to follow that path wherever it may lead.

29218.png

A Rough Start

A stomach lurching drop brought Hannah immediately awake. Gasps and moans surrounded her, the loudest her own. A short ding accompanied a disembodied voice. Sorry, folks. Just a bit of turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts. We’ll get you through this as quickly as we can.

Hannah closed her eyes, breathing deeply to quiet her insides, a technique she learned in one of the yoga classes she began taking as a teenager.

The plane suddenly rose again pushing Hannah deeper into her seat, as the engines whined in the pilot’s attempt to find a smoother ride at a different altitude. A hand grabbed her wrist, squeezing painfully. The physical discomfort was immediately replaced by the sense of being sucked into a deep, empty, black hole immersed in a heavy blanket of dark emotion. She knew to label it regret, though she was personally unfamiliar with this feeling. A montage of images and words flashed through her brain.

A man grabbing a black leather briefcase, walking or running out a variety of doors; Getting into a car or a train; Reaching out from a mother’s arms, crying, No, Daddy. Don’t go.

The man grows older, trees grow taller, car models change and the visual assault of memories continues: Waving goodbye from the window, See you, Daddy.; Soccer team buddies high-fiving while searching the crowd on the sidelines after scoring the winning goal; I promise I’ll be there next time. Yelling down from the top of the stairs, Don’t bother.; Looking around at friends in caps and gowns, searching for the missing face among the families.

I’m sorry, comes the answering reply with each change of scene.

I’m sorry. Out loud this time. The band of pressure around her wrist released, allowing her to return her focus to the present moment, the plane now flying levelly. She opened her eyes, looking to her left, first down at her wrist, then, just out of the corners of her eyes, at the person seated next to her. The man was dressed in a finely cut business suit, though Hannah wouldn’t know Saville Row from Sears. She noticed that a slight patina of sweat glistened on his pale face.

Are you okay? she asked him, vaguely registering another ding and the pilot’s voice assuring them the worst was over.

Yes, of course. Sorry. He ignored her and she pretended not to notice the way he shored up his shoulders, straightened his back and set his jaw, as if to force the memories away.

The man was obviously traumatized by the rough flight and Hannah didn’t want to add to his discomfort by mentioning her vision. After all, this happened to her frequently enough that she had learned that some people freak out when they think she can read their minds. She had become very discerning about when to share her experiences with the people they involved. In an effort to make him more comfortable, she said, Glad that’s over. Hopefully, the rest of the trip will be smooth. Then she closed her eyes again, trying to squelch her curiosity about the memories he had re-visited during the turbulence, as her own mind replayed the images the man’s touch triggered.

She struggled with letting go of her worry for the stranger and his emotions, wanting to help him, but realizing he didn’t want to acknowledge what just happened. He was obviously a proud man trying to regain his self-control, she thought, and Hannah decided it would be best to leave him be.

She breathed deeply, returning to her own thoughts of the coming week.

Sedona. A magical place. The perfect spot for a weeklong journey into self-awareness. She hoped to gain a better understanding of this burden she has been saddled with all her life. She knew that the turbulence that caused the stranger’s touch, coming after her careful avoidance of any physical contact with her fellow travelers, was no mere coincidence. Synchronicity, her mom would have called it. Pay close attention to what happens next.

She vowed to attend the workshop, as the brochure read, with an open heart and an open mind, with the willingness to joyfully explore whatever comes up. Her mind kept wandering back to the man next to her, keeping her stuck in her normal pattern of worrying over whether she did the right thing. She pulled herself back to the present and her own thoughts, only to be consumed by worry over the coming week. Will she run into more issues with other people and their emotions trying to take over her life? Would her mom be okay without her checking in every day? Could Lucy handle the restaurant with Hannah gone? Would she learn how to stop these voices in her head?

Or maybe how to make peace with us?

Make peace with you? Are you kidding me?

Voices this time rather than pictures. Was this her own internal dialogue? Or was it them? She felt like she was going crazy. Worrying had become a fortress from which she needed to escape, but could not figure out how. The Dramamine she had taken before boarding the plane lulled her back to sleep as she repeated her self-proclaimed mantra. I am safe. I am happy. I am safe. I am happy.

Jolted awake by a slight bump, a squeal of the brakes and the loud whining of the engines slowing, Hannah felt herself being pulled forward into her seatbelt. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen back to sleep, anxious as she was about spending the next week delving into her deepest fears and desires with a bunch of strangers, hoping to find… what? Inner peace, her purpose in life, healing of her tortured body and soul? That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

The intercom crackled and that same calm voice that had promised them a smooth remainder of their flight announced, Welcome to Phoenix, folks, where our ground crew tells me it’s a hundred and fourteen in the shade… but it’s a dry heat. Stay cool and enjoy your visit to Arizona or wherever your travels take you.

The passengers applauded before filing into the aisle, grabbing luggage from overhead compartments. They murmured platitudes, comments that only those who have come through a distressing incident unscathed could understand, as they stood in the aisle waiting for the ground crew to push the metal stairs to the plane’s cabin door.

Hannah pulled her rucksack from under the seat in front of her. She pretended to be searching for something, as she waited until everyone else left the plane and were all safely away from her personal space, to avoid a repeat of the earlier episode.

As the other passengers began their slow progress to the front of the plane, Hannah recalled one of her many childhood trips to Arizona.

29052.png

Connecting to the Past

1970

Seven-year-old Hannah was handed over to the pretty stewardess after her mom tucked her into the front row seat on the airplane with a kiss on her forehead, palm cupping her cheek, and that familiar smile that said much. I love you. I’ll miss you. Both your dad and I will. I know you’ll have a great time. I’m only a little worried. She grinned back at her mom, then clung to her and whispered in her ear, Me, too, mommy.

A plastic cup of ginger ale was set before her, the lady telling her she’d be checking on her from time to time and to just ask if she needed anything. Hannah said thank you and turned to look out the window. She had wanted to bring her bear that played music when she turned the little crank on his back, but they told her Yogi was too big to take on the plane. So she had Petey, her little stuffed penguin to keep her company. His soft white belly smelled like pepper.

This didn’t make sense to Hannah, since the penguins she remembered from her last visit, when Gran and Poppy took her to the San Diego Zoo, smelled yukky, just like when her mom drained a can of tuna fish into the sink. But she had laughed with such delight as the funny looking birds dressed in tuxedos waddled over to the edge of the ice and dove into the clear water. Through the glass, she had watched them swimming very fast, tumbling and playing, spinning in circles. Her grandparents hadn’t been able to get her to leave the exhibit until Poppy had handed her a stuffed animal. He had found it in the gift shop and told her she could take it home with her so that she would remember how much fun they’d had. She had hugged the little black and white bird to her and said, Hi, Petey. Do you want to come home with me? Petey must have whispered back that it was a fine idea because Hannah cradled him in one arm, placing her other tiny hand in Poppy’s large calloused one. Ok, we can go now. Bye penguins. Petey is coming home with me so I can remember you always.

The little girl had fallen asleep with that memory playing in her mind. A few hours later the Dramamine wore off and the plane touched down in Phoenix. Petey was still in the crook of her arm and she put her nose to his belly and smelled the familiar peppery smell that reminded her of Gran and Poppy. She was so excited to be here and wanted to get off first, but knew she had to wait for the nice lady to hand deliver her. She liked how they said that. It made sense and she liked it when things made sense, which they didn’t very often. Hand deliver - since the lady actually took her by the hand and walked with her out the door of the plane, down the steps, into the hot sunshine. When they got to the bottom, Hannah spotted Gran by the door of the terminal and squirmed away from the nice lady, who hadn’t even yelled at her when she had jumped on the stairs to enjoy the tinny sound her shoes made on the metal grate. She ran across the pavement, even though she knew she should walk like a young lady, and jumped into Gran’s waiting arms. Gran smiled and squeezed her hard. She was just as excited to see her only granddaughter.

The tall, elegant woman dressed in well worn boots, crisp jeans and a plaid shirt reached out to shake the stewardess’s hand. Thank you so much for taking such good care of my granddaughter. She seems like she must have had a good time.

She was great, Mrs. Hawkins, a real angel. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed that she slept most of the way. I enjoy having kids on the flights. They’re so much easier than businessmen and I get to think about having my own someday. Have a wonderful visit, Hannah. She patted the little girl on the arm. Maybe I’ll see you on your return flight.

Thank you for bringing me to see my Gran. Hannah leaned over, while still in Gran’s arms, to hug the stewardess. The little girl basked for a moment in the energy radiating from the woman, who felt bright yellow and sunshiny to Hannah. She liked being around people like that.

29060.png

A Friendly Greeting

Miss? Miss? Are you alright?

Hannah looked up to see a stewardess leaning toward her and realized that everyone else had left.

Sorry. I got lost in my memories. Tossing her rucksack over her shoulder, she headed through the cabin door and down the metal stairs into the hot Phoenix sun, recognizing a moment of deja vu - the last time she had visited her grandparents when she was twelve.

Once inside the door at the arrival gate, she had to search for Baggage Claim and Ground Transportation. The airport had expanded in the fifteen years since she’d last been here and as a child, she hadn’t really paid attention to where anything was since Gran had always picked her up at the plane and led her to the truck.

As she waited by the carousel for her suitcase, a tall man in faded jeans and scuffed boots walked over to Hannah, removed his hat and placed it over his heart. He looked at