Choices~The Awakening: When Old Friends Meet Again Exploring Dreams, Visions & Creation.

By Cynthia A. Hart

Life is a series of synchronicities that these everyday people become aware of each time they gather. They go beyond questioning why they are here; to a much deeper awareness of living in a still small town in Virginia, in an ever-changing world in the early 90’s.

On the surface, they are just going about their business, until some rather strange things start to happen. It is no different than what most of us experience when we pause, long enough, to explore our feelings, talk about them with a close friend and remain on the lookout for the next one. Once they really begin to examine these events, they start to remember all the things they forgot they knew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Nov 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781982274818

Cynthia A. Hart

Cynthia A Hart has worn many hats in her lifetime, but loves being Grandmother most of all. She is also an Ontologist, an Investor, Writer and Political activist that believes in peace and the search for Truth. She will tell you that she’s the most curious person she knows and is very passionate about all things related to the Spirit. At moments she can almost remember before time and matter mattered on this journey of expressing the unexplained. She discovered that traveling in her younger years, only made her homesick and that seeking to understand our inner aspects were more of an adventure than any foreign land. Currently she lives in a cabin with Jade and Rumie in the woods on Spring Hill, just north of Atlanta where she continues to push outer parameters and literary boundaries.

Book preview

Choices~

The Awakening

When old friends meet

again exploring dreams,

visions & creation.

CYNTHIA A HART

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Copyright © 2021 Cynthia Hart.

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.

BIG YELLOW TAXI

Words and Music by JONI MITCHELL

1970 (Renewed) CRAZY CROW MUSIC

All Rights (Excluding Print) Administered by ALFRED MUSIC

Exclusive Print Rights Administered by ALFRED MUSIC

All Rights Reserved

Used by Permission of ALFRED MUSIC

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constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Front cover art by Ginger Gail

Holy Bible from Ancient Eastern Manuscripts by George M. Lamsa. Copyright © 1933 by A. J.

Holman Co.; copyright © renewed 1961 by A. J. Holman Co. Copyright © 1939 by A. J. Holman Co.;

copyright © renewed 1967 by A. J. Holman Co. Copyright © 1940 by A. J. Holman Co.; copyright ©

renewed 1968 by A. J. Holman Co. Copyright © 1957 by A. J. Holman Co. All rights reserved.

All quotes from A Course in Miracles, copyright ©1992, 1999, 2007 by the Foundation for Inner Peace,

448 Ignacio Blvd., #306, Novato, CA 94949, www.acim.org and [e-mail], used with permission.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-7480-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-7482-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-7481-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021919480

Balboa Press rev. date: 11/05/2021

Contents

CHAPTER 1

1. Thoughts

2. Prayers

3. Planning

4. Detours

5. Reaching Out

6. Called to Say

7. Dreaming?

8. Miracles or Nightmares

9. Believe

10. Save

11. Mask

12. Reproduction

13. Testosterone

14. Calgon

CHAPTER 2

1. Que Sera Sera

2. Remedies

3. Listen

4. Seek

5. Envisioning

6. In the Past

7. Asleep

8. Revelation

9. Don’t Throw Things

10. Time

11. Safe

12. Paradise Lost

13. Freedom

CHAPTER 3

1. Friends

2. A Smoke

3. Two Tokes

CHAPTER 4

1. Eternity

2. Wishes

CHAPTER 5: ANOTHER DAY IN THE LIFE

1. Crushes

2. Anticipation

3. Realizations

4. Aware

5. Consequently

6. Positive

7. Heaven

8. Men

9. Women

10. Little Girls and Boys

11. A Mess

12. Responsibility

13. Wolves

CHAPTER 6: A NIGHT OF A LIFETIME

1. Lace

2. Checkered

3. Tapestry

CHAPTER 7: THE KINDOM

Prologue

I became aware of environmental problems at a very early age, in fact, one of my favorite artists had already taught us what to do when near the forest and that line remains so clearly in our minds. So, in 1970 the first time I saw the Keep America Beautiful commercial of the Native man canoeing past all the trash in the water and smoggy air, my young, stunned mind was ripe with a spirit of rebellion. It was easy enough through the birthing years, to turn my attention away from the disgusting rape and pillage of the earth, but then in 1990 during the months preceding Earth Day, I once again was forced to look at what had happened to our air, water and land. I was shocked that in twenty years things had not gotten much better, only worse in some cases.

I was mad, fighting mad, but there was really little I could do, except recycle (after a lot of pressure from my kids), watch what I bought (to some extent) and talk about it and inform my friends of the dangers we are facing. By Earth Day they and my family were sick of hearing about how furious I was.

The worse part that I couldn’t understand was why couldn’t everyone see the need to save the planet? At some point my eyes were opened to the fact that we, as a whole and individually, can’t even save ourselves from ourselves. The fight for the planet had to come from within each one. So, I began to search for some answers to what causes us to turn a deaf ear and close our eyes to what is really happening in the world.

After many prayers, the knowledge and inner strength helped me accept or at least, acknowledge our real problem.

What I found was astonishing---

Most of us are the Living Dead.

Dead to all the spiritual possibilities of life.

Blinded by our binding physical existence. Just as the animals do in a fight for mere survival, that becomes all consuming, causing us to forget what is really important-that which is inside, that sadly, has rarely been explained, sought or taught.

So, this is the novel that shares some of the experiences that I personally have had, some I’d like to have and others I’ve only heard about. It had to be fictional since lots of people are not ready for the exploration of the possibilities of the Soul. Thank God! Because if you are one of these, you’re probably much happier with your existence on this planet than those of us on the path that we’ll call of least resistance, searching for the answers. Therefore, this story is simply about various questions some of us think to ask.

Wherever you fall in this scenario, you will see your spirit in the characters of Choices~ The Awakening, because after all, we all have choices to make. The only tragedy is when we don’t choose or leave them to someone else.

Introduction

Choices-The Awakening is about twelve ordinary people with ordinary lives, that come together for their 20th year class reunion. As they gather to plan for the occasion, it is evident that the bond between them is stronger than others they’ve had since those carefree days at Goldwell High. When they meet, things begin to happen, like sensing each other’s thoughts, talking for hours when time seems to stand still. They share things that they would never tell spouses, parents or other friends outside this group.

(Several times now I’ve been warned that you, the reader, will not be able to keep all of these characters straight and that it will distract from the real message. I have more faith in you; nonetheless, I’ve included a sneak peek, ‘cheat sheet,’ so to speak, about not only the archetypal attributes of these 12 characters so you can do a deep dive into their complex personalities and refer back when needed.

Many began to believe that we, the human species are all connected or One as some hypothesized around the last part of the 20th century and that we really only ever meet ourselves. So, don’t lose sight of the many hats they wear because like us, there is always room for discovering new facets to our personalities. For instance, on any given day I hear Traffic [the band] I’m roaming through a bohemian flare alternating between an old hippie and a beatnik, yet as we fair well not to get lost in the traffic, we shouldn’t focus heavily only on their personalities, even as rich as they seem. It’s more about their traits, just underneath the skin that seem to meld together when two or more of them gather. A remembrance further back and beyond their youth sends them examining deeper realms of their spiritual nature. Without fully realizing a sort of kismet transports them quickly through the unusual energy at work. At times as if some unseen hand flings them in an accelerated frequency because each conversation reveals more than any of them are willing to admit. There is no exam at the end of this first book. Hopefully, the desire of searching for the questions of why we are here will result in the examining of your own life.)

As with most of us, these individuals begin to look at their lives with a new attitude; they start seeing choices, although they didn’t seem like choices at the time. Each begins to accept responsibility for his or her own life and with this, synchronies become apparent creating more openings into other areas that allow the truth to be revealed.

In the beginning a few, of course, reason it is all a fantasy, choose to ignore the coincidences, dismissing them as mere strangeness, shutting themselves off to all recollections or emotions. While the others feel that the dreams, synchronicities and visions are signs and begin to tune into the knowledge with an awareness of what has been missing throughout life therefore giving them a deep sense of belonging. Those that explore the possibilities find that with each new experience comes a deeper mystical awakening that goes beyond their conditioning and religious boundaries.

Like most humans, their egos have a go at denial, convincing them these are just an overactive imagination and as much as they pretend that it isn’t a calling of sorts, refusing to see the unseen and allowing them to keep this evidence to themselves. Eventually seven months later, they all realize almost simultaneously that these events are really happening and for a reason: A mission chosen by them and determined before birth.

"Truth is not what we discover,

But what we create."

-Antoine de St. Exupery

Dedicated to

my greatest teachers,

Leila, Lacy & Mark

Who have grown into fabulous humans

because they have open hearts.

May they always remember to use their wings.

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Character’s Essence and Physical Characteristics

Plus, a sentence or two in their own words

~Francine Walters Stone Harley~ Referred to as Franny, Fran, or sometimes Fanny, There is something sensuous in the way she moves, attracting you to the hippie living deep in her soul, whom you’d swear had just fallen from the garden of Eden hiding within her long, dark hair. Maybe it is more about her spirit shining through those relaxed green eyes, that at times flash a southern charm like Vivian Leigh’s eyelashes or the fact that more than 20 years ago she had mastered all 10 of the sensuality exercises prescribed by J that spilled over into her way of life that could ease most folks who were frayed around the edges. There is a peace that she radiates and if you catch her in what appears to be a serious stare, she’s only sensing your essence that many never see. Yet in an instant, it can shift, if she detects any injustice and like an afternoon storm, (at the slightest hint of gossip or any form of hypocrisy) her hazel eyes turn gray.

Francine sees herself as the mender of all that ails the world, although it has taken many years for her to acknowledge her ability to sense the emotions of others hiding beneath the surface. Yet rarely her own reactions remain entrenched just beyond her reach or understanding. She assumes that the process of losing her religion and the stranglehold of the Church on her life would provide the answers.

I’m the most curious person I know but, in the end, I must remind myself, it is really only the love you make that matters.

~Elenore D’Ascenzo Parnell~ "Ellie" She is happy-go-lucky 75% of the time when she’s not fighting the strange urge to be a tomboy, who just so happens to be exceptionally light on her feet, one moment and the next waiting for the other shoe to drop. Perhaps she sees the world a bit differently than most, like it all started at seventeen with a Steely Dan song or maybe it is just those slightly violet eyes. Her capacity of compassion knows no limits and frequently her heart overflows with a gathering of droplets in her eyes when she is lost in the moment of feeling her main reason for living, especially when given the opportunity to express love for her precious people and on occasions, for the whole world.

Most people say I have eyes like Liz Taylor and that I’m an original, but I don’t see myself that way.

~Gretchen Lee Cantrey~ Has a diplomatic, ambitious, eccentricity quality that often hides the unique spirit of a Gypsy. The only way she can stand to stay put, is to garden every chance she gets, which only enriches the fertile ground of her mind. She treats each plant or her patients as if they were her baby, nurturing, exploring and cultivating a richness of ancient wisdom (very few find in this lifetime.)

With a strong upper lip, she speaks her thoughts in ways that move mountains for after all she has always been obsessed by the Orwellian society and specifically the use of Newspeak. Her ability to ponder the deepest elements of existence and desire to understand why people act or react the way they do drove her to study the mind with all of its trappings by achieving a Bachelor of Arts in social work while simultaneously obtaining a masters in psychology.

Her dark skin, hair (with russet highlights) and aesthetical deep brown eyes remind us of her not-so-distant native ancestors.

I think, therefore I am someone who studies the mind and the way it thinks.

~Audrey Rene Hayden~Has a Gaelic essence, that collects Angels of all sorts. It’s no wonder her favorite character as a child was Tinker Bell and her twin, Periwinkle, whom she believed was the Tooth Fairy and her Fairie Godmother rolled into one. She still names hummingbirds, claiming they are really fairies in celestial disguise. If you can imagine for a moment Katherine Hepburn’s tiny frame listening to a symphony, then the next moment rocking out to a blue’s jam, nestled within a Victorian garden, framed with a host of fireflies then, you’d easily recognize her.

If dreams were thunder, and lighting desire, rest assured, once an object catches the attention of those glorious green eyes, this little redhead converges on a longing and there is no interrupting the depths of her passion or ability to manifest it. Maybe because of her deep wounds, she discovered incredibly early how to cleverly cover up unpleasantries with anything that glitters.

I have a knack for gathering things, people and spaces that set a mood or create an ambiance.

~Kelly Margaret Nelson-Brown~ Or Birdie, her daddy and her close friends called her & Morning Dove by Ben sometimes. If ever there was a beatnik, it was Kelly. Not that she would ever admit it, especially since she had cut off her long golden hair and wore it in a Bob several inches below her prominent jaw. Kelly’s famous bangs remain to this day and always seemed to rest slightly in her dark brows, concealing her sultry brown eyes that could mesmerized the unexpecting person as well as instantly hypnotizing them with her magnetic charm and childlike curiosity.

She’s always loved poetry, ever since she can remember. It rings out of her like those whispers from Doris Day and the fact that when she smiles one would swear, she was her daughter, who makes her seem familiar at first glance.

Some consider her grouchy, partly because her lips have the tendency to appear to be pouting, like a songbird singing the words to her favorite Led Zeppelin song. She straddles two pathways, saying she likes to live for the moment, while her Déjà vu flashes cause her to see the future and knowing sometimes even words have two meanings. She takes these experiences with a grain of salt, (as matter-of-factly as one could) although they are becoming more tedious.

Fortunately, her irresistible charm, goes a long way to buffer her sarcastic, blunt humor, attracting nearly everyone who crosses her path.

I always try to fit in and not let them know how much I know.

Alexander Dean Stone Stone or Alex as he prefers to be called, is an Archaeologist, but one might define him as a romantic adventurer, as a colleague had called him once in an interview for National Geographic. Anyone involved with this man of higher intelligent, see that his passion for objects, more often, than for people, who he manages to cleverly keep at a discreet arm’s length is where he finds his strength. His nickname Stone fits him to the inth degree in every way from his tanned skin resembling a polished topaz and his strong jaw that is separated by a slight crease chiseled into his chin. Also, his sky-blue eyes vary in color like the atmosphere around him making him appear more brave than he lets on.

It took many years for him to finally admit that when he holds an item, manmade or not, with his left hand, he sees visions that are not just his imagination. Which he could never be accused of lacking.

I analyze everything, every person I see, except when it comes to me.

Benjamin James Murray (Ben) Running Bear was the name his mother’s father gave him the moment he took his first step, but by the time he left for the Marines, friends simply called him Bear. In his rebel soul flows his ancestor’s Sioux blood, only to reinforce a raw, almost outlaw’s keen sixth sense, that certainly enhanced his career as a police officer for 15 years. It’s always been hard for Ben to remain still unless he has a guitar with a slide in one hand and a pick in the other.

Often Ben is mysterious, making him even more persuasive with his whispering, southern dialect, as if everything is a secret or complete BS. People are naturally drawn to his native charm and his melodramatic reactions because they feel as if they know all there is to know about this attractive dark-skinned man with straight jet-black hair and deep, brown, bedroom eyes revealing a soul that could be described as the sound of wind when it meets fire.

It’s hard to say, because I’m complicated.

Faith Leigh Parrish Bach~sees the world through Rose-Colored glasses and rarely does one’s name so succinctly explain their essence as it rolls off the tongue. She considered herself one of those Domestic Goddess from down south, even before it was a ‘thang,’ although it would take many years for her to grow fully into this role.

While focused and driven, she has a profound naivete that keeps her from ever letting herself find true joy. You could call Faith a plain person, with features that one might consider ordinary but her lazy, almost sexy, way of talking, like one of Joni Mitchell’s folk songs, demands attention. Her small prim nose is evenly complemented by delicate lips that fade in comparison to her brilliant untamed grey eyes. Most find her attractive; although, she never gives much thought to her Joplinesque (as in Janis) tousled attributes.

Faith being a demure, petite person with medium brown hair is perceived by some as an introvert with the mythologic sprite-like-spirit. While she is more intelligent than she realizes, there is an equally emotional, kind of a touch of paranoia that keeps her thoughts to the basics with no desire to explore or ponder the deeper meaning of life. Growing up she was painfully shy, becoming a highty-tighty always cleaning behind the scenes.

I believe you would describe me as someone who is a love song because I’m at my best in a relationship.

Richard Wade Lincoln Link Link could interpret light and energy into thought and music. He is trendy, yet in most respects a tightwad, some would even claim he squeaks when he walks. Link always looks as if he stepped out of a GQ magazine with his lace-up, dark brown, brushed-suede Hushpuppies (shoes.) If you listen real closely, his tone will remind you of a cross between a Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan tune not only in the way he speaks but his bizarre thoughts, as well.

I see things the way they could be or before they are created.

Joel Levy Reed-If ever there was an earth angel it was Joel. His soft-spoken way, commands attention making him a natural born leader who tends to guide by example. In all reality with his dark complexion, he probably looks more like Jesus than many would imagine, especially since he wears his wavey, brown hair in a version of the 1940’s Dapper with sides fairly short fading to longer hair that rest on top and always seems to have a mind of its own.

Even though Joel is a taller than most, he is like a cool mountain brook that sooths your soul with his words and comforting mannerisms. Sometimes, from the pulpit he hears Angels singing the words that spring from his heart.

Who I am? I’d have to say a messenger of light and truth.

James Drake Parnell- Or The Rake (but only back in the days of football because no matter what position he played his hands always seemed to find the ball) When this man smiles, his whole circular, cheerful face lights up. He’s a striking man, that many see as a somewhat bashful warrior who manages to awkwardly proclaim, Where there is a will, there’s a way. Drake hasn’t changed much in twenty years and still can be found in one of his favorite AC/DC t-shirts and a pair of blue jeans.

Age has sprinkled only a few grey hairs at his temples causing a stark contrast to the dark brown straight strands, which only makes his dimples and few wrinkles around his blue eyes sparkle even more.

Deep inside I’m still a teenager because I like to joke around, so you will never see all that I must be blind to.

Russell Allen Sanders- Rusty has an old cowboy that lives deep in his heart, rambling around in his boots, sometimes singing an elegy hiding the love he desires because of the craving to explaining everything. If ever there was a man who you’d describe as fascinating as a genuine Willie Nelson ballad, it was Rusty. It is hard to imagine such an irresistible, rugged, red-headed man with curly hair, faint freckles that sprinkle his cute little rounded nose and whose captivating green eyes twinkle when his latest supposition about life comes shining through. His guarded heart usually just ends up as the cantankerous philosopher conjuring reasons to remain alone.

I have a theory for everything.

Chapter 1

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All that we are is the result of what we have thought.

Buddha

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Thoughts

In the stillness of the August morning, it was just like any other day that Francine could not wait to find solitude outside on her porch. Hugging a cup of fresh brewed coffee, she gracefully plopped down onto the overstuffed, pastel floral cushion. She used the inside of her other arm to sweep away what might have been a mosquito or gnat from her forehead. Her mind wandered as her arm lingered there, hiding her brunette eyebrows. It was more of a gesture than anything expressing the worn-out feeling these past few muggy days near 100 degrees that had lingered, entirely drained her energy. It was not an unusual event for this southern town and she thought lightheartedly about how many times she had proclaimed that summer started around Valentine’s Day, and some years hung on for dear life, till the end of Christmas.

A green sea of leaves blew fiercely around the house, as the balmy, welcoming breeze from the ceiling fan gently brushed Francine’s tanned face, causing her to awkwardly fling the extended arm from her face to her lap. She unconsciously let out a sigh of relief that morphed into a long exhale as the feeling of a peaceful emotion swept through her. She stared into the white sky that was one immense cloud without edges and just like that, she shifted her focus to a tiny leaf that dangled in the breeze yelling, Look at me. Suddenly she became aware of the crickets that were chirping, since the katydids had hushed several hours before.

In the next breath she was mesmerized by the fan blades swooshed by, whirling her back to a simpler time in life before air conditioning, before modern conveniences like appliances and phones. Catching her breath once again, she felt the humidity seeping into her lungs, weighing on her chest.

Maybe it was the heat that had withered the yellow leaves of the muscadine vine across the street. Oh, there you go again, wishful thinking that this drought is coming to an end. I guess there is a reason these are the Dog Days cause I sure do feel like an old wet dog. At least Fall will be here in no time. I can almost feel summer quietly slipping away and we never made it to Disney this year or the beach again. Wish we could have grilled more and spent more nights out on the patio. Well, it’s just been too dang hot to spend much time outside lately, even in the evenings. Two and a half months is not long enough for a summer break. It’s not all my fault, these kids are so busy with their friends and with John the other times. Just like you have always said turn around three times and they’ll be grown. Oh, life use to seem so clear at my favorite time of the day. Look at that dim morning sun and I love how everything is misted with dew, water coloring the world in soft silvery hues. Then as if on cue, that old band from her youth began to sing Good Morning, Good Morning in her head that accompanied the birds already singing.

I’ve got nothing to say but it’s okay, to herself… Why can’t I always stay centered on the virtuosity of life and why can’t I always remember just how happy I am? After all, you live in this fabulous, old-fashioned Victorian house of your dreams. And yes, I have two, nearly perfect children; basically, you’ve always had most all of your dreams fulfilled! Yep, sometimes only to find, I guess, I’ve changed my mind along the way or… Francine, face it, you just hadn’t thought through the consequences.

For some days now, she had been thinking more about setting a few new goals. On more than one occasion, she had contemplated a new career, something exciting. Also, she felt the need to start a savings plan in addition to the 401K her company offered, not just in case the children needed it for college. She certainly didn’t want to work the rest of her life. Francine knew without some sort of blueprint for the future her life would never change, but that old fear from the past was present~be careful what you wish for, because it might come true. Oooh, there it is again, you know how powerful even a thought is. Everything, everywhere, has been a thought in someone’s mind before.

Unconsciously, her wildish green eyes turned almost grey as the cement Buddha she focused on, sitting in the China rose bushes. She knew in her heart, this was the truth, so it made the realization that the jumbled mess in her mind might produce some pretty scary, disoriented events in life. Glancing once again