Getting onto the Bridge of Actualising Self-Full Love: The Crimson Light Volume 2

By Crimey Queen

Still plagued with the question Why am I here? Lauviah continues with the belief that there are no accidents and coincidences but the choices we make. This notion forces her to face the vow that she had made to leave no stone unturned. Eventually, she feels compelled to confess her hidden secrets to her son, with the hope to make a better life for both.

Lauviah gets to understands that the Crimson Light fuels individuals to see for themselves how far they are willing to go in order to get to where they want to be. But whilst faithfully relying on the allegiance of the light, she had not anticipated the bleeding tears as though being crushed like grapes. She laments but anchors onto the belief of attaining a true sense of self-identity necessary for her liberation and destination: a bridge to actualising self-full love.

After witnessing the presumed suicide of Mr Barack Altidore, Lauviah becomes so driven in her quest that she is unaware that she has actually taken on the role of an undertaker. Although she is not with the mindset of discovering a Barbie doll, neither is she with the idea of how deep she has to dig through the stench of her grave, which she must bear before she can even breathe.

Lauviah eventually becomes aware that love can only be experienced according to ones sense of willingness to recognise and accept it. Would her creativity and life experiences be sufficient to help accept something that she has never fully known? Will she be able to save her fourth marriage one of heart and soul?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524628468

Crimey Queen

Love is what best describes this second volume of the Crimson Light. Although new to the publishing world, Crimey Queen has channeled the voice and unique language of Lauviah, whose quest is to get on to the bridge of actualising self-full love. The writer has brought to the surface skills of tenacity and courage in capturing Lauviah painful and abusive experiences through this thought-provoking and funny journey of self-discovery. In this volume, Crimey Queen helps bring to the world Lauviah’s message of unraveling free from her cocoon of guilt, shame, and blame and finding the source that would propel the very quest of getting onto the bridge to actualising self-full love by which others can find it’s trail.

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© 2016 Crimey Queen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic Reference Bible, Copyright © 1983 by The Zondervan Corporation.

Published by AuthorHouse  06/01/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-2847-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-2845-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-2846-8 (e)

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Why Be Afraid?

A Mother’s Consent to the Light

Signpost to the Bridge

Your Boarding Pass to the Bridge

Bridge Construction

It’s a Love Thing

Why Are You Here?

I Know Why I am Here

Once, a time, at the core of every man and woman

Reigned the spirit of the Crimson Light

It was believed all things were possible

And that all of life’s answers, are played out

In everyday scenarios; and especially,

When we lay our heads down to sleep

Of which, we call dreams and visions

That sadly, many simply dismiss,

The guidance, to follow the cues;

Of their internal Global Programming System.

Without any recollection of where you’ve been

Or who you met, and what you did in the night;

Like when you take an aeroplane flight;

Do, you pay attention to the person next to you?

As you say, or may even hear,

Excuse me, I need to go to the washroom

Never-mind, that names were not exchanged

Perhaps something more profound had been engaged

Which confirms, there is always ‘hope for the people.’

Somewhere, deep in your brain

You have been left with the lasting memory

That you have been touched

Either by a sinner or a saint;

Nevertheless, I employ you,

This is never to drive you insane

Only to encourage you to let go of your extra load,

And to pay attention to the signs

That present themselves in dream and vision

To make light your‘final destination resort.’

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The Crimson Light is expressed through all the elders: Faith, Unity, Truth, Presence, Forgiveness, Conviction, and Endurance.

The wondrous gifts of the spirit of Wisdom, Healing, Knowledge, Prophesy, Language and Faith, Miracles, and Discernment which works as one spirit and is available to to all people on the earth.

For those who are seeking their passion through the gifts of the spirit: May the Crimson Light guide you.

For all mothers and mothers of mothers, who are yet to find your voices, including others who have offered their voices so that the daughters of the world can also find the courage to speak and honour their truth.

For all fathers, and fathers of fathers who are hurting and have not learned how to constructively deal with your pain: Remember, your gain lies in your legacy as the sons and daughters through whom your light shines on the earth.

For my loving son Daniel including all the sons who have not found their strength by learning how to cry. Remember, there is healing in the tears.

Nieces and nephews with absent parents, may you find your inner strength and purpose to pave the way for the new generation.

Alex Amponsah for your continued loyalty and support.

For my siblings, family, and friends, who have all enriched my life: May the Crimson Light continue to shine on all. Thank you.

For everyone and every creature, place, and institution that has touched my life directly and indirectly, through all of which I have now gained my sense of wholeness in discovering the spirit of Lauviah.

INTRODUCTION

What greater love has a man than to literally step into a tombed casket, just like that?

After I had witnesssed Mr. Barack Altidore stepping into the tomb casket just like that, I had to revisit the road once travelled on the tropical island of St Lucia so that I could move forward.

The decision to forge ahead with determination and to leave no stone unturned had made me examine the ties that bind the emotional fabric of my family. A colourful fabric, but one only made visible after being dusted and displayed its various facets through the paradox of my beliefs and experiences. I had been faced with the aftermath of the marriage of my attention and intention involved, to ease the jagged graphs of my emotions, the feelings of failure, and accept the elation of my achievements and to validate my need for a four word question: why are you here?

Basically, I had not understood the brightness of the hills and the blackness of smoky valleys that had shaped my life, as Lauviah.

I had seen for myself that the allegiance of the Crimson Light had not failed me. Although birthed through pain of feeling rejected, it permitted me to see that love is often nearer than breath.

That, in turn, was how I collected not one but seven trophies that formed the combination of Actualising Self-full Love.

Now all this had happened as a result of the choice I had made to be escorted into the basement of Grazebrook Primary School (GPS). It was in the school yard that I was escorted by a woman in black, Mrs Blanchard’s look-alike, in search of my diary. Afterwards, I discovered, I had woken up in the middle of the night to a series of strange events. Along with a bunch of keys in my hand, there were the brightest crimson lights I had ever seen. This, however, was not excluding my ability to communicate with a six-inch-thick wall and two dogs.

I had made a jump in time, and to my surprise, outside GPS, it was like broad daylight. Unlike the wall and the dogs, I seemed unable to communicate with the three men I saw standing outside, who totally disregarded anything I had to say.

I believe that the resonance of the light that had hovered over me, as I gazed at the beautiful cornfield that surrounded the buildings, made me realise the sacredness of what was to take place. And now I am ready to commence the second part of my journey and to further explore my relationship with the Crimson light that so far, has dealt me no half measures in igniting my will and spirit; which tends to spiral my journey into a series of unexpected junctures. Although this meant I had to rely on my intuition to explore the various subjects that seemed to bear more thorns than petals in my body mind and spirit.

It might have been that the director of this grand universe had convinced me that nothing happens by chance but by the choices that we make. Based on that premise, I held the belief that I had been there along with Harry and Christian as witnesses to Mr Barack Altidore, the owner of the Hope for the People (HFTP) infirmary and the Final Destination Resort mortuary (FDR), descending into what I could only describe as a tombed casket, just like that.

Unbeknownst at the time, the decision to seek my missing diary from Grazebrook Primary School, which my son attended, was necessary since it birthed the role by which I would act out for my secret passion of being a movie star. Just so that I could not only prove to myself but proclaim to the world my true identity, yet my training, so far, had not been without the influence of inherent friends and who also happened to be devoted members of the cast.

It would seem, as a result of my desire, the dancing rays of the Crimson Light not only fuelled my desire to Actualise Self-full Love but remained committed to guiding me, and now I am presented the module Why Be Afraid?

Therefore, my intention for you as my companion is to make this journey one of personal transformation, as I venture once more under the constant illumination and guidance of the Crimson Light that is always alive in everything and in every dream. As I endeavour to find my identity, let’s make this a glorious trip to the Bridge of Actualising Self-full Love.

CHAPTER 1

Why Be Afraid?

Fear makes us afraid and even petrified of ourselves, but there’s no denying that Fear, like my loyal friends Chatterbox and Resignation, has been good to me. Fear alerts me to many dangers, even in my failure to foresee what is potentially detrimental or even fatal. So why be afraid? Conversely, I have experienced being with Fear, and with the frightening feeling that my intestines had been ruptured and that my heart was an atomic bomb just waiting to explode. As a result, my relationship with Fear often seems a muddled one. Hence, there is an awareness that Fear operates from subtle to drastic measures and, therefore, appears to be eternally with me. However, my occupation at present is to seek an understanding of Fear, so that I may fine-tune my internal make-up for getting onto the Bridge of Actualising Self-full Love. As a result, I am now continuing to trust the constant guidance and illumination of the Crimson Light and to see how Fear operate in our lives.

It would seem like we generally disguise our frightful thoughts and feelings, so that Fear is no longer for us the guy with bulging eyes and two horns. Instead, like the Hollywood actor Tom Hanks, in the movie Castaway, we tend to mollify Fear, make the face value of our transformed condition the new reality.

As the only survivor of a FedEx plane crash, Hanks discovers that he is the only human being on a deserted tropical island; ultimately, he is forced to face his deepest fears. He not only has to contend with staying alive but is also consumed with a burning desire to reunite with the people and places that really matter to him. Through a battle of wits, Hanks resorts to drawing a face on a volleyball named Wilson. During their four years on the island, Hanks shared his fears and other feelings with the ball.

The golden opportunity arrived, and Hanks ensured to take his companion with him to begin a journey into the unknown, one of faith, to be rescued from the island. However, circumstances would determine otherwise, as Hanks had failed to reach Wilson, who had gotten carried away by the tide. As the two drifted farther apart from each other, one could conclude they had reached the climax of their covert agreement. As a sense of this acceptance, having fulfilled his purpose, Wilson deliberately allowed himself to drift away. Whilst Hanks, on the other hand, seemed to desperately wish it were not so and was forced to accept the fact that he had to let go. He just had to let go to allow himself the chance to be rescued without his friend. And this leaves me wondering, Why do we always feel the need to engage in a game with Fear?

Perhaps it is also safe to conclude that even when we say that we are having a ball, in essence, because we are afraid, we put on a face that we believe will grant the outcome that we want. In short, we manipulate Fear, so that we can tolerate him. You could say, the game with Wilson is a way of pacifying the godfather of anger, power, and control. In which case, our behaviour towards Wilson can be viewed as the game of guardian and child. But the problem arises only when we are unsure of who is in control.

For instance, we learn to hide, like an unhappy child with a lovely painted butterfly on his face, by which we can shift the focus of attention from which to hide. Progressively, the child identifies with us, by reciprocating a matching expression on his face. He proceeds to play whatever games we want to act out. In addition, we become very creative by convincing him that what is apparent is not only true, but it is all actually his idea, and that he is in total control, and then we baptise Wilson.

When things don’t work out the way we want them to, we convince ourselves that our unhappiness is really Wilson’s fault. This may be due to Wilson’s roundness and adaptability and readiness to just roll into any sporting position of our intention. Adding to this, we often deny the pain that serves to remind us of why we have acted in a certain way. In fact, we forget to ask who is actually in control. Who is really hiding behind the face: the one with the painting, or the painter, or both?

Often, what begins as a game quickly turns into a competition. Let’s see who is going to win, you say. Wilson gives you a run for your money and bounces around, going off course, and all you can hear is, Loser! Actually, that’s exactly what you were trying to avoid feeling like or being perceived as: a loser. You had been unaware that, whilst chasing Wilson around, trying to kill time, you were in fact reaping the result of the seed sewn in avoidance: failing to look at a face with no mask. Instead, you introduce other rules, by painting on new tags from the long list of aliases, initiated by Wilson’s godfather, which include self-pity, helplessness, hopelessness, regret, arrogance, loneliness, and procrastination, but best summed up as doubt.

As far as you’re concerned, it’s Wilson’s fault that you’ve found yourself running too far and off course. Your intention to ensure that you are always aware of his whereabouts requires your constant engagement and participation in the games. He knows nothing else. This is because he was created in the concealment of your image and likeness. However, the moment you lose sight of Wilson because he happens to be somewhere in a corner, you become aware of the real state of your affairs. Your initial reaction of alarm and outburst gains you a ticket called reality check.

Evidently, you have been acting the fool; that is why you have not scored any goals. You still mull over the fact that you have not taken the opportunity to stand in front of a group or pay someone a compliment. The idea of learning a new language or taking an airplane ride is still left on hold. Furthermore, your son is still waiting for you to take him to the dressmaking class. What do you do? I’m a real jerk! you say to yourself, feeling like real a loser, too. So you decide to fetch Wilson. You make him a promise never to leave him again and then suggest another game. You want to win. Okay, last game, you say. Of course, the game has been going on forever. Only this time, you have added another variable: to win because you think that winning will validate your idea of trying to kill time.

All along, you are unaware that you are actually being presented the chance to score an unexpected goal: the understanding that you don’t need to feel so attached to Wilson, and he does not need constant interaction from you. The realisation that it’s time for a change and embracing new opportunities for achieving your main goal is a huge goal in itself, but alas! You missed! So what do you do?

As you walk along, cursing yourself, you knock Wilson, Bap! Bap! Bap! on his head whilst he bounces up and down. Intermittently, you hold onto him with both hands and look at his face with a sense of self-pity, as if he were the sweetest child ever. Feeling sad, you wonder, Is he really?

If you were really a sweet child, then why have you wasted so much of my time, making me chase you around?

Your level of frustration is building sky-high. The game had gone well into overtime, not to mention how exhilerated you now feel, after running the whole nine miles, just to fetch him; you think to yourself, Plus, you didn’t even win! All of a sudden, boop! With all your frustration, you kick Wilson really hard, right between his eyes. The next thing you know is that thirty minutes later, you wake up with a pounding headache