5, 2006 - September 26, 2006
– Sacred Stones, Savory Food & Funny Lessons
After difficult lessons in Britain, we have been savoring
the sweetness in France, and laughing a lot. Funny things
have been happening.
Ferry to Freedom
We take a ferry from Plymouth in England and ride 6 hours
to get to Roscoff, France. The ferry is a first class operation,
well organized, and the food in the restaurant is superb,
a glorious dinner after 2 months in Britain where we had gotten
very tired of the food. We were very surprised when we got
into Roscoff that there are no immigration officials to look
at our passports or give us a visa to stay in France. We just
drive right off the boat and into France. This is especially
ironic because at the ferry embarkation in Plymouth the ferry
operators stopped us at the entrance line and were not going
to let us through when they found out we had no visa to come
into France. We waited in line for 20 minutes until they called
the immigration officials in France, upon Icasiana’s
suggestion, and finally told us we didn’t need a visa
before we arrived in France. I guess not only didn’t
we need a visa before we arrived; we seemingly didn’t
need a visa at all, even though they almost didn’t let
us get on the boat in the first place. We shall see when we
are leaving France to go into our next destination if we really
did need a visa.
Ons and Offs
When we drive off the ferry with no idea where to go, we drive
to a municipal parking lot intended for campers and stay overnight.
There is no charge and no bathrooms, but we are happy to land
gently in France. We drive to Carnac the next day, and we’re
excited to see these ancient stones that we’ve heard
so much about. Carnac is said to have the largest amount of
ancient stones and concentration of sites of anywhere in the
world. The kids are excited because we have found a wonderful
campsite with a big swimming pool and fun water slides. We
like it because it’s surrounded by pine trees and grass
fields nearby, and it’s organized very well. When we
set up in our site, we plug in the electrical plug, and it
doesn’t work. We’d gotten all these other things
fixed in the van and must have thought that this would just
magically get fixed now that we were in “alignment”.
This hope turned out to be just a fantasy. Icasiana spends
a couple of hours trying to trace the problem and fix it.
She gets it to work for a moment, oh happy day, but alas it
is just a fleeting moment, then nothing.
The next day we go to the camping store in the next town over
from Carnac. We were told of 2 places, the other place, Baud
is about 45 minutes away, and this one in Pleuharnel is just
5 minutes away. The lady at the store tells us she cannot
help us, and then she remembers her brother in law is visiting
and might be able to help. At least that’s what I think
she says because she doesn’t speak a word of English.
Her brother in law arrives and works on it, tightens a few
wires, and it works. Oh this is great. I pay him 20 euros
for his help and we drive back to the campsite, plug it in
and it doesn’t work anymore. We decide that we are not
going to spend any more of our time in magical Carnac trying
to get this fixed. We will wait till we can go to a bigger
– Land of Magic and the Largest Megalithic Stone Alignments
in the World
Wow! These stone alignments are so magical and powerful. They
rove across the landscape for as many as 9 miles long in rows
wide as 100 meters and of many as 11 rows across. Some of
them are gigantic and some are just huge. Why were they built?
We don’t know. I believe that they follow the earth
energy lines, and each row is a line of the energy field.
They were also built as astronomical and astrological markers
of the solstices, winter and summer, and of things beyond
our knowing. When we arrived in Carnac we found out that the
main stone alignment areas are fenced off, much to our dismay.
We learned that this has been done because for many years
access to these sites was fully open, but in addition to vandalism,
the trampling of the grass by so many people was causing erosion
of the soil and the stones were falling down. These measures
were instituted for protection. After October, which is after
the rainy season and the large influx of tourists, the sites
are again accessible. Well, we just had to get in closer to
the stones. I mean they are very nice to look at, but I must
touch them and feel them. We did sign up for a guided tour
that let us in for one hour. We were not good students though.
The woman talked for 30 minutes straight while the group stood
in one place without walking through the stones at all. Later
on there was some time for the group to walk about but we
had long ago separated from the group by then, and we weren’t
called back or chastised. I mean, what was the point of listening
to her talk about the stones when the whole talk was in French?
Life at the Stones
I did take it upon myself to drive us back to my favorite
spot after dark, the Kermario alignment. Oh my God. It was
magnetic, it was electric, it was something special to be
there. I felt like I was about to levitate. There I was in
the dark walking amongst the stones, leaning against them
and feeling their magnetism. I was in a wonderful sanctuary.
The stones took on the shapes of many amazing beings: dolphins,
whales, frogs, Mother Mary, giants, old men’s faces.
At night my feelings about them became more pronounced and
charged and magical as the distractions of the day were minimized.
The 2nd night I lay in the field amongst these great giants
and felt such power and presence. I even felt a healing coursing
through my body. Strangely that night, I had horrifying dreams.
I was in the midst of gruesome images of war. I woke up very
shaken and not knowing what it all meant – was it a
message for me or did the stones awaken this dream?
Being in the presence of these stones was such a gift for
me, yet I read in one of our books (Standing Stones by Jean-Pierre
Mohen) how the church forbade people to have ceremonies amongst
the stones because they viewed it as idol worship. On that
basis they took it upon themselves to destroy many of the
stones. We are left today with only a fraction of what once
was, and still what we are left with is amazing. I feel very
sad not only for what was destroyed by the church but for
how people have been controlled and disempowered by their
policies. The church has discouraged people from having a
direct experience with the life force of creation. Must it
all be in the form sanctioned or institutionalized by the
church? For what purpose has this suppression been done?
Before we get the Van Fixed
The time has come to leave Carnac after 5 days. The kids are
sad because they have loved the water slide, and they have
made friends from Britain and France that they’ve had
fun with. We plan to go to the bigger towns of Vannes and
Rennes to get the van fixed so we won’t be having spoiled
food because the fridge cannot stay on long enough. This day
begins as a comedy of the absurd. We get to Vannes and I ask
the lady at the gas station if there is a camping store that
we can get our electricity fixed. This is in French of course.
I had gotten the people at the campsite in Carnac to write
down for me how to ask this question in French. The family
has been amused as I’ve practiced saying it in advance
so I’ll be ready for my premiere. I get the question
out fine, but my French comprehension is not very advanced.
I understand nothing. She’s trying to explain to me
that there are no camping stores in this area at all, or in
the next big city of Rennes, that we should go to Auray. That’s
where we have just come from. We will have to go back. Then
she gets the mechanic to help me find a place, he also speaks
no English. They’re telling me there are 2 places in
the Carnac/Auray area that may be able to help me, but I can’t
understand what or where they are. This conversation has all
been taking place in French, or sort of on my part –
I grunt and gesticulate a lot to try and make myself understood
when I have no words. Then the woman says to me, “Okay,
I’ll explain to you how to get there.” And she
proceeds to explain to me in perfect English how to get there.
I guess I had made a big enough fool of myself that she took
pity on me. We had heard that many of the French people can
speak English but prefer not to. I believe the French people
want to be met on their own terms. And I can understand that.
There are forces in the world, the United States, the World
Bank, the IMF (International Money Fund), to name a few, that
are forcing many countries of the world to acquiesce to their
will. They often break down subsistence farming communities
and make them dependent on growing crops for export at cheap
prices. Their policies have led to the crushing of small farmers
all over the world. Small farmers in local communities have
become mostly a thing of the past. There have been worldwide
protests over this issue. There was even a South Korean man
who, at a demonstration of this issue, killed himself in protest.
In France there are still small farmers in local communities.
They have resisted the pressure to conform, and they have
maintained their culture. I respect them for that. Each town
we go through looks different. The countryside is beautiful;
there is a wonderful feeling here. There is much more freedom
here than in Britain, yet the people seem much more self regulating.
Where Oh Where Can we Go?
Back to the story; so she tells me how to get to 2 camping
stores where we can get the electricity fixed. So we drive
back where we’ve come from. We find the first place,
it has closed and moved. We call the number, but the company
that we bought our French SIM card has had technical difficulties
and we’ve not been able to make phone calls or receive
any calls for that matter. This is a sore point for us. So
we try to find the second place. This is where things get
crazy. We drive to the 2nd place and ask directions when we
get to the town and get sent to who knows where. We get lost
of course, go back and ask directions again and are sent to
a city miles away. Normal thinking processes are getting fuzzy
at this point and I drive to the far away city wondering why
I hadn’t looked further in the town of Crac’h.
Of course when we get to the next city of Belz 30 minutes
away no one knows of any camping store. At this point I am
so frustrated that my fuses blow and I give the driving over
to Icasiana. We decide to drive to Baud, the store we had
first been told about in Carnac days ago that we never went
to because it was so far away. But it wasn’t nearly
as far away as this ridiculous ride we’ve had today.
Problem Ignites New Friendships
We find the camping store in Baud. They sell camper vans and
caravans here. When we arrive we see one of the workers building
a caravan. That’s a good sign. The boss, Didier, comes
to help us and he has kind eyes. He looks it over and soon
after shows us what part of the connection board is “kaput”.
He does speak a bit of English. The security part of the board
is defective and so the whole thing doesn’t work. He
rewires it and bypasses the security board and it works. He
tells us to get it fixed when we get back home, but it will
work for now. We tell him we’re not going home, this
is our home. He says he can fix it but the store that has
the part we need is closed by now. We can go to a campground
for the night and get it fixed in the morning. All right,
that sounds good. He tells us there is a campground that we
can go to and he starts to give us directions. Things get
confusing here and he decides to have one of his workers take
us there but he doesn’t tell us what he has in mind.
When the worker drops us off, it’s not a campground
that we’re at, but we’re at Didier’s home.
Surprise! He and his wife Marie have invited us to their home
and we are welcomed by their 2 girls who are the only ones
at home. I’m scratching my head at this turn of events.
As it turns out, they had thought we needed to plug into the
electricity and the campground they knew about didn’t
have electricity. So they just brought us to their home. We
were so touched by their kindness and how they had taken care
of us. What was ironic was that we had never had the plug
working before so we were not used to plugging in to electricity
anyway and certainly weren’t expecting what they had
planned for us. We were glad though that now we could plug
in and the fridge would work and we wouldn’t waste more
food. They made their home available to us and had a tent
set up already that the kids could use to sleep in. They offered
us food and wine, some of which I accepted (the wine) as Icasiana
lay with Elijah in the van trying to get him to stop his breastfeeding
gymnastics routine and go to sleep. Icasiana has been trying
to ply me with wine on this trip so she can have a drinking
partner, and she hasn’t been very successful. The kids
are just too young. I can barely get past one sip of wine
and I’ve had more than enough. But the wine in France
is not bad, meaning I can actually drink it. The kids were
amused at my new sense of humor after 2 glasses, I think.
It seemed funny to me anyway.
Van is Fixed At Last!
The next day when we go back to their shop, Didier fixes the
electrical problem easily. This was funny because we had had
so many people try to fix it to no avail. He also fixed our
light fixture that had been falling down and in the way for
almost 2 months that we’d tried to fix a number of times.
Didier has been building his own home for a few years, he
knows camper vans and this stuff was kindergarten stuff to
him. For us it was not so simple and it was much appreciated.
We thanked him and his wife and left (they thought they had
seen the last of us). Instead, we went to town to get a present
for them to thank them more deeply for their help and kindness.
We found a plant and some flowers and brought it back to their
shop but it was closed for lunch. We took a chance that they
were at home and took our gift to them there. When they received
our gift they were shocked at what we had done. They gifted
us with wine and champagne and a warm reception to eat with
them. Before we left, we exchanged email addresses and we
showed them how to use a translation program so we could write
and translate into the other’s language. We left the
town of Baud feeling buoyed and excited to go to Le Mont St.
Michel, which is a corresponding sacred site from Mount St.
Michael that we had visited in Cornwall, England.
We marvel at our son Elijah. As he approaches his first birthday
we notice that he is so joyful and so present with us. People
remark to us all the time of how present he is with them.
It has been such a gift for us to be able to be with him this
first year of his life without being called away to so many
other things of the world. When we are with him, which is
all the time, we give him our full attention, and we notice
that he feels so safe and trusting. Icasiana and I had a conversation
about this and we believe that kids want full presence from
their parents much more than they want presents. We’re
not thinking of how we can stimulate him, or accelerate his
growth, or develop his intelligence. We trust his innate intelligence
and marvel at his natural curiosity. As a chiropractor I have
practiced my professional system of removing interference
and letting healing happen from within. With the baby we remove
interference by being fully present with him and let the growth
and intelligence develop from within.
Nor do we try to keep him busy. We have noticed in most every
country we have been in, except Bali, that kids are very distracted
by TV, video games, iPods and other electronic paraphernalia.
Our belief is that these gadgets keep kids indoors and distracted
away from their source, from nature, their creator, or whatever
deeper connection they could have. Matt and Kate have not
had these gadgets for most of the trip and we have noticed
some amazing changes in them, especially in Matt. He has had
the opportunity to have some deep conversations with other
young people and has evolved his thinking, his philosophy
and most-importantly, his heart. He has had a spiritual awakening
and a developing faith in his connection with the creator.
This has led to a whole new feeling about himself, an increased
sense of confidence, and a dissolving of his fear of being
judged. For Icasiana, she feels the whole trip is worth it
just for this healing he has had. We will publish his writings
about his experiences immediately after this update. Matt
has expressed that even though his writing is extremely personal,
he’d like to share it with others, that it may be helpful
to young (and old) people, to get into their hearts and find
their source, their core for healing.
D-Day Reunion 62 Years Later
Revisited, In This Lifetime
Goosebumps coursed through my body and erupted on my skin
as I studied the map while looking for our next destination
in France. As soon as I realized how close we were to Normandie,
the more I realized I had to go back. Strange, I had never
been to France before, in this life, but I was to come to
the realization that my life had ended on June 6, 1944, D-Day.
I had told Gabriel that there is a very strange and strong
pull for me to go there. I didn’t know why I had to
go there or why I was feeling so emotional, but I was very
sure I had to go there. Gabriel said, “well let’s
go.” As we got closer to Utah Beach, Gabriel could see
the emotional effect of this return on me, and he asked if
I had had a previous life here. I just nodded yes. The strange
occurrence of the previous days was starting to make sense.
Several days earlier when we got to the Normandie region and
visited Le-Mont St. Michel, I started feeling extreme pain
in my left shoulder blade, close to my spine; it also restricted
the movement of my neck. Pain would shoot through me and when
Gabriel would work on me, it would free up for a while, but
then it would return. At first I thought it was from sleeping
cramped up in the van, but intuitively I knew it was something
deeper. I literally asked my body what it was trying to show
me; I asked, what lessons must I learn through this pain.
The answer came soon after asking.
on Utah Beach
Once we started our two-hour drive from Le-Mont St. Michel
toward Utah Beach, more information started coming to me.
The hair on the back of my neck would rise up when I would
think of why I was having flash backs to 1944 and why I was
feeling such an affinity in this life for the French people,
as I really didn’t have any exposure to many French
people before. As we drove, images starting flooding my mind,
these were images of me in Army fatigues running off the US
Boat toward the shore. The weather was rainy and dreary and
there was a high wind. I was struggling carrying all the radio
equipment and supplies on my back. I was thrilled reaching
the beach without being shot. I was so loaded down that I
was moving quite slowly when I heard my buddy call me from
behind. He had been shot. In my mind I didn’t want to
head back because I would be exposed to German gunfire. My
orders had been to run to the beach and get up the hill and
“do not turn back.” But I was not able to leave
him behind when I heard him call my name, “Bobby”.
I made a split decision, against orders from my commander,
and trudged back to my fallen buddy James. He had been hit
badly and blood was gushing from his neck. By the time I arrived
by his side he was nearly dead. Then a shot from high above
sounded and it came toward me. Now I was hit. I could feel
the bullet ripping through all the equipment I was carrying,
but I felt it as if it was in slow motion. I thought the equipment
was going to save me, but no, the bullet ripped through my
left shoulder, near my spine. I doubled over James and we
looked at one another with the look of death. I knew I would
die, I just didn’t know when, but I definitely knew
my time was coming. I held James as he spat blood and gasped
his last few breaths. It comforted him a little to die with
me, his buddy. For that I was pleased.
Fascination with D-Day
In this life, I have always had a fascination with D-Day and
the invasion of Normandy. I found that strange as I have never
been one to have the desire to learn or speak about war, but
inexplicably D-Day held a spell over me. When I watched the
movie Platoon many years ago when the PT boats landed on the
shore and all the soldiers were basically slaughtered even
before they hit the sand, I had a visceral reaction, so much
more intense and personal than just from seeing the images
on the screen. I felt like I knew those guys. I somehow knew
what they were going through.
I have a dear friend, John Allard, who fought at the Battle
of the Bulge in France. He and his twin brother were both
sent over to fight. When I first met him, I just adored him
and his wife Betty (who has since passed on). I started asking
him about his life and he shared his experience about the
war. I found it so fascinating and yes, even familiar. He
had said that when he fought in the battle, nearly all of
the men from his squadron were killed. A knowing chill ran
through my body when he told me this and now a chill runs
through my body as I remember this today.
Angels Rescue Me
I didn’t die on Omaha beach where I landed and where
I was shot. James died, but I was rescued at dusk by a wonderful
French family who risked their lives by sneaking onto the
beaches past the German guards to rescue any survivors they
could find after a day of gruesome war. They didn’t
care what uniform the person was wearing. They cared about
saving people’s lives, at the risk of their own. They
drug me off of James and then removed my radio equipment and
supplies and laid them on the beach. Then they drug me closer
to the rocks to avoid the German soldiers from seeing us.
Once they got me near the rocks, I was carried, quite roughly
for what seemed like many miles, up a huge hill and over pastures
and fields. The woman, Marie, was telling her husband, Henri,
in French that I had lost quite a bit of blood and I needed
to lay flat or I would surely die. It’s odd that I was
able to understand their conversation even though I don’t
believe I could speak French. I can only imagine that I was
close to death and had begun to pass through the veil with
expanded awareness, where language is not such a barrier.
Finally, he stopped and laid me down in a field. I knew we
were near a church as I could hear the bells toll. I was grateful
to hear the bells, and glad to still be alive. Marie cradled
my head while Henri looked at my wounds and I could tell by
the shocked look on his face, I wasn’t going to last
much longer. I was in excruciating pain, I didn’t have
to say a word, he just knew. He took out a bottle of whiskey
and let me drink some. Marie cradled my head and spoke to
me in French. It was like a lullaby. Her voice was lovely
and kind and she then started to sing. I knew this was the
end. I was so grateful that I was not left on the beach, piled
with all the others who lost their lives. I drifted off quietly,
feeling love and gratitude that I died in the arms of these
courageous and compassionate French souls.
Church Bells Toll
We drove the van out to Utah Beach and the hair on the back
of my neck was prickly and my neck felt that electricity of
remembrance. Gabriel asked me if this was the beach and I
told him no. The beach I was at had German soldiers perched
on a hill and there were stones near the shore. This beach
was completely flat with only the sand and long grassy fields.
It was surreal to see this beach now looking so calm and peaceful,
knowing it was the site of such horror so many years ago.
I started to doubt myself and wondered if I had just imagined
the whole story. As we stood there the weather began to turn;
the wind started to pick up and the rain started to come,
simulating the weather of that day and further igniting my
memory of the treachery that had occurred 62 years ago. Soon
after we drove into the town of Saint Marie du Mont, just
up the road from Utah Beach; we went on the roundabout and
I heard the church bells toll and time stopped for me. I knew
those bells. Those were the bells. The sound reverberated
through time. Just across from the church was a Museum that
was called the Musee de Occupation, and even at this late
hour of 6:30 p.m. it was still open. We went in and the first
thing I saw was a WWII American soldier dressed in uniform.
I recognized that uniform, it was the same as the one I wore.
I asked the curator if he had a map of the beaches of Normandie
and he did. He showed me the map and it showed where the US
troops landed, where the British troops landed, where the
Canadian troops landed, and where the other allies landed
on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day 62 years ago. Utah and
Omaha beaches were the 2 beaches where the US soldiers landed.
Chills ran through me as I remembered I had once studied maps
of these beaches, I then asked him if there was a place on
the beach that had a hill, a cliff and rocks at the bottom.
He said “yes!” here, and he pointed to Pointe
du Hoc. That was it. I knew it. I was stunned and relieved
that I had found it.
After our tour through the museum we had dinner at a nearby
restaurant. Throughout the entire town there are monuments
and signs of gratitude to the American people for their assistance
in their liberation. Even in this restaurant there was a picture
of a soldier who had returned for the 60 year anniversary
of D-Day. He was pictured hugging two women. My thoughts turned
to my return, 62 years later. The only difference is that
I came two years later, I have another body, and I’m
a woman now. Dinner was over and strangely, the wind and weather
had knocked out the electricity as we left. I thought that
was odd. I remembered this kind of weather from the last time
and it had an eerie effect on me.
at Pointe du Hoc
The next morning we drove to Pointe du Hoc. There are monuments
in tribute and an American flag hanging in the center of the
square. I said to Gabriel, “why would the US flag be
hanging here?” We soon found out that the United States
had been given the 30 acres of land including Omaha Beach
that they had been so instrumental in winning back. The United
States had been given the honor of being responsible to care
for it in perpetuity. I felt proud for a moment. I then proceeded
to read about the D-Day invasion. The weather today was beautiful,
blue skies, fluffy white clouds with a warm, balmy breeze,
nothing like it was yesterday. As I read the placards it said
that the D-Day attack was scheduled for 6:30 a.m. on June
6, 1944 but stormy weather and navigational difficulties delayed
the deployment of the men on the beach by 40 minutes. This
was critical and costly to many lives as the bombing brigade
that preceded the soldiers landing on the beach had ended
40 minutes earlier, not just moments ago as planned. This
gave the Germans time to regroup and recoil for our next assault.
This is why they were ready when my squadron came.
Casualties Were High
Two hundred and twenty five US soldiers had hit the Omaha
Beach at 7:10 a.m. The Germans were ready. They killed nearly
100 of us just as we got off the boats. The remaining soldiers
that did get up the cliff and hills used grappling hooks and
sheer guts. When the battle was over, only 90 soldiers survived.
I started crying and feeling such sadness and shame that I
wasn’t one of the 90 who made it. I had lost my life
along with all the other men. I wasn’t part of the glory.
I was a casualty. There was a lesson for me here; I just had
to wait for it to unfold.
When the Bell Tolls
We left the monument and headed towards Omaha Beach. We walked
through the grassy fields and peered over the cliffs and I
saw the rocks that lined the beach. This was it. These were
the rocks I never made it to. I then saw the area that I had
landed 62 years ago, the beach had changed over the years,
the sand had diminished, but I recognized the rocks and cliffs
that remained the same. We walked in a procession to this
area and then made our way through bramble and nettles to
an area high above the beach. From here I could see the area
where Henri had carried me to safety, the place where I died
in the arms of Marie. I looked in the distance and saw the
church steeple that housed the bell that rang out to me all
those years ago. The same bell that tolled at 6:30 p.m. when
we arrived into town yesterday must have tolled near the time
when I passed over. Maybe it was 6:30 p.m. the night of June
6, 1944. I don’t know, but that feels right.
to the Healing
As a family we created a ceremony on this grassy field. Gabriel
burned sage and shook the rattle in a chanting trance inducing
rhythm. He asked Creator through prayer for any messages that
would assist me in this lifetime, and he asked for healing
and integration between my lives. Once I was able to relax
into the prayer I felt a great release as we sat there. I,
too, asked Creator why I needed to relive this tragedy. Why
was I here today, sitting in this field with my family, not
as a victim, as an observer. What was the purpose of all this?
I was told that this tragedy of the past was still holding
me back in my current life. Even though I assisted my buddy
James and my heart opened to Marie and Henri, I still held
strong feelings of failure and shame. When I deployed from
my boat that morning 62 years ago, all I had on my mind was
the glory of what I would feel as a hero saving the land of
the French people and stopping the onslaught of the Germans.
Never did it occur to me that I would be shot and killed.
I felt I had failed my buddies, failed the mission and failed
myself. This is the residue I brought into this life and it
was something I needed to clear. It is the fear of failing,
deeply seated in my cellular memory. What I’ve learned
in this lifetime is how the body stores the memory of traumas,
fears, and everything that is not cleared, and the importance
of clearing it so we can move forward and be here now.
Speaks Through My Soul
Spirit spoke to me and let me know that it was time now to
let go of this fear. Many times I have not been willing to
do things for fear that I may make mistakes or fail and look
foolish. I realized now that there was no failure in what
I had done. There was honor in dying for this cause, this
was my path, and I had helped to pave the way for those that
made it. I also felt reinforced to stay in my heart and keep
connecting with people the way that I do. Spirit showed me
that my deep connection with people comes from my ability
to listen through my heart, something I had learned from Henri
and Marie in that field as I lay dying. After we left and
drove away from Normandy, the pain in my left shoulder and
neck was totally gone. I was free and clear. I believe part
of the reason I could release and heal this past event was
that I didn’t feel victimized by it anymore; it felt
like another stage or phase of my life that was necessary
for my learning. It is through this work that my soul advances.
for the Lessons
Another lesson I was shown was that war needs to be avoided
at all cost, but if we are at war, as we are now, it is our
duty to support the soldiers who are fighting. Not the policies
or policy makers, but the individuals who risk their lives
and who serve their country – right, wrong or indifferent.
I believe there will be more lessons to come from this experience,
yet already this has been truly cathartic, insightful and
uplifting to have released this energy to its appropriate
lifetime. I thank Creator for this gift, the catalyst for
healing and expanding my divine connection.
As a family we spoke of my experiences and the healing that
occurred when I faced it. Kate was attentive and fascinated
with hearing about my past life and asked many probing questions.
That night she had a very poignant dream that she’d
like to share with all of us. She wrote about this as a journal
entry and we are sharing it with you below:
Kate’s Dream about Normandy
When we got to Normandy, something amazing happened to mom.
She realized that she had a past life here, and not really
the best of lives in my opinion. She, or shall I say “he”
was a U.S. soldier that came here to fight the Germans. She
was one of the men that would run off of the boats to get
up the hill to take back France from the Germans. Unfortunately,
many were killed when they came off the boat.
As she was running off of the boat when it landed, she was
determined to get to the rocks for safety and shelter from
the Germans. As she was running up, keeping her eyes on nothing
but the rocks, her friend James had been shot in the neck,
and lay behind her. He was near death but he was calling her
name. My mom just kept thinking about those rocks, and how
if she turned around she would be shot too. But it was her
friend and she made the choice to try to save him. So she
turned, and as she reached her friend James she was shot in
the left shoulder by a German soldier, by me (according to
my dream anyway). In my dream I was younger than a lot of
the German soldiers. I believe I was in Hitler’s youth
Nazi group, I don’t know anything else about who I was
except for I knew that I was scared to hold a gun, and even
more scared to shoot somebody.
the men were running up on to the beach I was even more frightened,
they looked like a huge stampede running towards me, I was
clueless about what I should do. As they were running up the
Nazi soldier next to me shot a man, the man was calling out
a name after he was hit, I couldn’t understand what
he was saying, but after a few seconds another U.S. soldier
turns around to listen, that man being my mom, I was In the
perfect line to shoot this man, but I didn’t want to.
The same Nazi next to me said in German to shoot the man and
make Hitler proud or to die myself (in my dream if you didn’t
make Hitler proud when in the youth group then you would be
beaten or even shot and killed as punishment.) So I shot the
man in the left shoulder, all I could remember was the man
falling and then looking at me, then his face turned into
my mom’s face. Then I woke up. I was so frightened by
this that I couldn’t sleep for the next 2 hours, finally
when the image left my mind, I went back to sleep. I was glad
to see my mom okay and alive the next morning, so I asked
her to make me breakfast – then I knew everything was
by the Pristine Pyrenees and Blossoming of the Children
As we prepare to leave France, let me give a quick overview
of where we have been in France. After arriving on the ferry
in Roscoff, we made our way to Carnac in the south of Brittany
for about 10 days (written about in our France 1 blog). Then
we headed to Mont St. Michel, a spectacular church built on
a small island surrounded by the tides coming in and out,
known as the largest or most spectacular change of tide in
the world. And it is all situated on a site of very powerful
earth energy. Then we headed to the Normandy coast that Icasiana
wrote about in France 2. On our way to Chartres and Paris
we stopped in Lemans and saw the Cathedral there. The Lemans
Cathedral is the most beautiful and magnificent masterpiece
that I (Gabriel) saw of all the churches and buildings we
have seen. Of course it too is built on a place of powerful
earth energy as all the old churches are. After stationing
ourselves in Chartres, we visited the cathedral there but
were not able to walk the labyrinth that is only open on Friday.
Then we went to Paris on Sunday, a low traffic day, to see
the Eiffel tower, and visit the Lourve and Musee D’Orsay
museums. Back in Chartres we headed to the south of France,
proceeding slowly and visiting dolmens and other ancient sites
along the way. Through the rain we reached the Pyrenees and
stayed there a luscious week. There we walked along the Compestella
route and went to Lourdes. From the Pyrenees in the Southwest
of France we have proceeded east to Annecy to then enter Switzerland
through Geneva. Here’s the inner story of our last 2
weeks in France.
Magical France – Power Over Us
Majestic views, magical stones, magnificent food, and very
kind people. We just don’t want to leave France. The
transformative events that have occurred with our family have
been powerful and have shifted us at the very core. We made
the conscious decision to take each day slowly and follow
spirit; to allow that which will unfold instead of making
a steadfast itinerary to follow … This slow dance has
brought us through many small towns and small campsites throughout
northern France. Our van does not like to go over 60 mph,
so we are required to drive at a slower pace, and it has suited
us very well. We are able to go through the country roads,
soak up the beauty of the majestic fields, take pictures,
and glide through the druid forests and feel how alive it
is here. Yesterday, Gabriel, Elijah and I went to Le Mans
Cathedral. It was stunning. Over the years from 1080 to 1400
there were 7 major reconstructions of this megalithic cathedral
that kept adding to its glory and surprisingly to its beauty.
What an amazing masterpiece. Kate and Matt had asked to stay
at the campsite since they wanted to work on the gift they
were creating for Elijah’s first birthday. It’s
a totem stick. They found the lovely piece of wood at Le Menhir
De La Roche in Gorron – a perfect stick found near the
sacred stones. We believe Elijah will be able to reconnect
to the energy of the land by touching his totem. Gabriel took
them to the store and they bought a rasp and sanding paper
to shape it and create a smooth finish. They have been collecting
special pieces to add to the stick, crystals, feathers, stones,
acorns, and other magical pieces that will catch Elijah’s
eyes. We’re all contributing small precious items to
– Labyrinth Dead End
We are now headed toward Chartres, Paris, eventually to the
south of France in the Pyrenees to the town of Oloran, and
wherever else we are led to stop. Gabriel had been to Chartres
many years ago and marveled at the labyrinth at the Cathedral
in Chartres. He was not able to walk the labyrinth his first
time there, so we look forward to all walking its magical
path. I have never had the opportunity to walk on a labyrinth
before. I have a sense that it will be transformative to walk
through it in a meditative trance and be led, led closer to
God. Well, as fate would have it, the only day the labyrinth
is open is on Fridays. Unfortunately we arrived into town
on Sunday and didn’t want to wait another six days to
walk around the labyrinth. Se la vie!
through the Rain to the Pyrenees
Yesterday was a difficult day. (This is Gabriel at the writing
board again). We were driving from our campsite in Limoges,
France and heading south to the Pyrenees, to the town of Toulouse.
It was to be about a 4 hour drive to Toulouse, and when we
started out it began raining. It continued to rain the whole
day. This van we have is not particularly easy to drive in
good conditions, but in a continual rain, it is very difficult
and stressful. The defroster works, albeit the defroster is
me wiping a towel across the windshield, every 45 seconds.
There are leaks that come in various places that include under
my feet and under my wife’s feet. The wind was blowing
something fierce and at times throwing our not very sea worthy
vehicle port and starboard. We finally arrive in Toulouse
about 4 hours later, but we’ve arrived at rush hour
and it is a big city. The traffic is horrendous and getting
through and around the city is not so easy. Icasiana wants
to stay in Toulouse and I want to get out. Usually I will
consider her desires and discuss it together, but in this
situation, I’m driving, so we’re leaving. As we
continue we look at a campsite, but it looks like a ghetto
campsite, very high security with metal fences and sliding
gates – probably maximum security. It did not feel very
good so we left and continued looking for a place to stay.
This brought back memories of a rainy night in Greece when
all the motels we looked at were full and we ultimately stayed
in the van, but that van was not designed for sleeping. That
was a memorable and most difficult night, and I will spare
you any more details. I think I said that last time. I decide
to park the van nearby where there is a creek and a pond so
my wife can cook dinner and then proceed through the outskirts
of the city when rush hour congestion is finished. While Icasiana
cooks, I take the baby for a walk. While in the van he is
fussing and squirming around, as soon as I take him outside,
he quiets down and focuses on what’s around. He is entranced
and happy, and it is raining. We sit together and watch the
water by the pond, marveling together. When we return to the
van, Matt and Kate are still inside. Here is Daddy and baby
outside in the rain, while the young buck and buckette are
inside. What’s wrong with this picture? They remedy
the situation and go outside to play basketball together.
Icasiana finishes cooking and the kids are still playing,
so we eat together. The meal is wonderful, salmon with rice
and soup. Have I mentioned how good the food is in France,
how fresh and wholesome and how deliciously my wife cooks
it all up? Anyway, when I finish I go to get the kids, and
Matt is in a funk. Kate is happy. She already had her funk
in the morning, after which I assigned her a writing assignment
about “what is more important, human relationships or
the things that we own”. When she wrote that assignment,
she had a very emotional response and a healing. She gained
a significant insight into herself and her attachment to material
things that left her feeling uplifted. Later in the day it
would be Matt’s turn to receive his bitter medicine.
We call it this because it is bitter to face these kinds of
things, but it is medicine that helps us to heal and grow.
and Another Life Lesson
Matt and Kate had been playing basketball and Matt had gotten
very discouraged when he didn’t play as well as he would
have liked, to the point that he was distraught. He didn’t
want to come back for dinner because the voices in his head
were telling him how worthless he was. Aah, the tricks that
our mind plays on us when we don’t feel good about ourselves.
We had a talk, and he was not ready to shift. We all let him
be where he was without pushing him. He was able to shift
on his own later after being with his little brother Elijah,
and seeing how much Elijah loved him unconditionally. By the
time the kids got back to the van to eat dinner and we had
driven off again, it had taken much longer than planned and
now it was dark. Now the driving became treacherous for me.
We looked at a couple of motels and they were all booked up.
So we continued. We finally got out of the city area, but
there were no places to stay anymore. So we kept driving into
the teeth of the rain, me barely able to see the road and
other cars. At one point, there had been an accident and traffic
was closed to one lane. As we drove through I was about to
defrost the window and didn’t see the gendarme (policeman)
who was directing the traffic and was right in the road in
front of me. When I finally did see him I reacted intensely
and was able to steer away from him safely and into the lane
to the right without incident. I had been going slowly so
it was not a sudden or severe turn, but it was upsetting to
my passengers, especially my wife who has asked to remain
nameless for this part of the story. As the evening drive
continued, the stress level seemed to increase in the car,
and the comments for safe driving directed towards me seemed
to increase and to my ears sounded very shrill. My wife was
not feeling safe while I was feeling unfairly questioned,
harshly spoken to, and getting more than a bit perturbed.
I was feeling less tolerant than usual, and was not appreciating
her helpful comments. At first I thought my wife was reliving
a past life and thought she was speaking to someone other
than her present husband. After one comment that was particularly
irksome to this writer, I told my wife, “Why don’t
you drive?” She didn’t particularly appreciate
that suggestion. We were able to clear it in the middle of
the night upon my prompting and come back to a loving space.
Well you know, we humans do struggle sometimes. Everyone got
a chance to have their turn on this day including me. Very
soon, the next day, I was shown that I needed to be a little
more humble about receiving recommendations when I clipped
a parked car when I was parking next to it, as my wife was
telling me to watch out for that car. The damage was very
slight, there were no dents and their car could be buffed
out. Fortunately this lesson was more of a whisper than a
loud shout. Life can be very humbling. As it turned out, after
all the rain, and the continued rain and the lateness, we
treated ourselves to a motel room for the night for only the
second time in two months. We have been camping during this
time. Earlier in the journey we were in motel rooms every
night, now it was out of the ordinary and a treat. We woke
up the next morning to a beautiful sunny day and could revel
in the fact that we had arrived in the foothills of the Pyrenees
on the Pyrenees
That sunny morning quickly turned, and it rained on us for
a total of three days. Boy were we wet. A highlight was going
to the Laundromat and watching our clothes drying in the dryer.
Life is different on the road, in a van, with three kids.
What was I thinking? No, you know I’m just kidding.
Aren’t I dear?
When it did finally clear, it was majestic. The air was so
fresh, the colors of the grass and trees and mountains were
so brilliant, it was like everything was glowing. We had been
introduced to friends of Kim’s (from Hereford in England),
Harriet, her husband Jean Jacques and their two daughters,
Alice and Matilda. They took us hiking along the Aspe River,
which runs along the pilgrimage route called the Santiago
Compestella Route. We shared a wonderful day together and
over this time developed a nice rapport. Jean Jacques has
a strong affinity and appreciation for the natural world and
when he told us of his connection with the pixies (or nature
spirits as we know them), the momentum really picked up and
we felt right at home.
– A Vision to Behold
We were very excited to visit Lourdes, the sight where Mother
Mary appeared to a young girl named Bernadette who was removing
her shoes to cross over the river. She became St. Bernadette
after Mother Mary had appeared to her several times, the first
being when she was 14 years old in 1861. The site is a grotto
next to the river, where a natural spring sprung up after
Mother Mary appeared and still provides pristine water for
those who come to Lourdes. The day broke with wetness on the
ground, and a pure clearness that had the sun shining through
the wetness leaving everything aglow. The drive over was gorgeous
with the Pyrenees mountains rising in the background and the
Gave Pau (river that flows from the Pyrenees) following us
along. We took our time meandering on the country roads and
letting the day build. We made a stop at a dolmen along the
way, it was a stunning time of the day, crystal clear all
around, and of course, like all of the stone places, it was
on a place where strong earth currents are present. As we
looked and saw the dolmen and felt around it, I was struck
with the idea that they were much more than a burial site
as they have been described. What I was receiving was that
they are portals between this world and the spirit world,
and that instead of their importance being as burial sites,
they are places of transition for those dying. These stone
sites are built on places of power, where the spirits are
more accessible, and where it is easier to connect to the
other side. This would be an important insight in light of
what was to come later in the day. For that I will give the
computer pen over to Icasiana.
Help in Preparation
As we left the Dolmen site, I (Icasiana) heard a voice tell
me clearly that much would be revealed while we are at Lourdes.
It was Mother Mary’s voice, kind and reassuring, but
very clear that my life’s work would be shown to me
at the Grotto of Lourdes. I had been to Lourdes 12 years before
– Kate was a baby at the time. I was so excited to return
to Lourdes with my family this time. I wanted to be fully
prepared to receive any messages about my path. I didn’t
mention anything to Gabriel about what I had heard at the
Dolmen, I just wanted to see what unfolded at Lourdes.
– the Faithful and the Faith-sellers
Lourdes is a bit of a dichotomy. On one hand, it’s an
extremely holy site, not only because Mother Mary appeared
to Bernadette several times there, or that it embodies such
delicious natural beauty – a backdrop of the majestic
Pyrenees mountains blanketed with green grass and evergreen
trees, but it also rests in line with some very powerful earth
energy lines. On the other hand, it’s a bizarre tourist
trap. Many star hotels from one to five stars, restaurants
flashing neon signs of their special meals. Souvenir shops
selling everything from cheap plastic Mother Mary bottles
for the holy water, to Rosary Beads the size of Texas, and
every other religious doodad you can think of. Coming through
that part of Lourdes I close my eyes and walk past the stalls
very quickly to get to the Grotto.
Preparation Through Prayer
Throughout the day, I had been consciously breathing deeply
to clear my body. I even, to Kate’s dismay, played the
OM sounds of the Dalai Lama. She wanted to hear George Harrison,
but I knew the Dalai Lama chanting was what I needed. Before
we went in, we said a prayer, burned sage and set our intention
for the visit to this holy site. As I was walking down the
pathway, past the shops and hotels, I started feeling such
a connection to all the people I came in contact with. I was
pushing Elijah on his Pram (stroller) and people would smile
and nod, or say Bon Jour. I would return the pleasantry, but
it was deeper than that. Each person I connected with eye
contact, I had a strange sense that I knew them. I felt a
great preparation by God and a physical connectedness to spirit
and to all other beings.
As soon as we arrived into the square, I am struck with deep
sadness and sorrow and I start crying as I watch the people
and hear the music that is guiding a procession of people
with maladies, and their caretakers. First I see the infirmed
people on stretchers, being wheeled at the front of the procession,
then in wheelchairs and other small blue carts, some kind
of wheel chair from the hospital, there were hundreds of people,
both with illness and nurses and caretakers as well as priests
and nuns, supporting these people in their desire for a healing.
There were people from many countries, France, Italy, America,
Portugal, Africa and many others that I couldn’t see
their name tags with the country noted. Many come on a pilgrimage;
others come as individuals seeking a healing. It is said there
are spontaneous healings that occur – people leaving
their crutches or wheel chairs after going through the procession,
or being touched by the holy water from the Grotto. I didn’t
personally witness any, but I did see some amazing lightness
come from people’s faces as they walked through the
procession and touched the wet stones of the Grotto which
has holy water streaming down from it.
I believe my sadness came from a deep knowing of being with
someone so very ill and feeling the desperation for getting
well in the caretakers and the infirmed. The desire to be
healed, the desperation to be healed – this feeling
was so strong at this site, it overwhelmed me. Some of these
people looked like they were literally on their death beds
their faces appeared twisted and desperate and filled with
pain. I wondered if they were expecting a physical healing,
or if they would find peace in their hearts to let go of this
physical world and transition into the spirit world of eternity.
The kids, looked at me quizzically, but then realized they’d
seen me many times in this state, and just walked beside me
while I pushed Elijah. Gabriel, who totally supports me, was
there to hug me when I needed one, or place his healing hands
on me so I could go deeper into the trance.
First Walk through the Grotto
The line to walk through the Grotto was extremely long, and
the guides hurry the pilgrims along the pathway. There are
many helpers along the way who assist people to go to the
front of the line if they are in wheel chairs. Well, when
they saw us pushing Elijah on the pram, they asked us to follow
them. This kind man made a path through the hundreds of people
by asking them to move aside as we went to the front of the
line. At first I was pretty pleased by getting to the front
of the line, but then I realized that as you walk along the
stones, there are many crevices and chasms in the stones that
have amazing energy emanating from them, and those we missed
as we moved quickly by. When I turned the corner where the
Grotto is, I was nearly knocked over, I felt very dizzy and
spacey. The energy was immense and intense. I had been here
before, 12 years earlier, but never like this – I was
a tourist then, today I was on a mission.
Affinity of Mother Mary
I have had an affinity for Mother Mary my entire life. Even
through the years that I left the Catholic Church, I always
held a special place in my heart for Mother Mary. In the past
few years she has come to me through her voice and images.
I look forward to her voice and the messages she gives me
– I trust her implicitly as she reflects the voice of
God, in the feminine form. I had a strong feeling that once
I walked through the Grotto and was able to still my mind
and body, I would be hearing from her. Well, it took about
an hour of sitting; I needed to breast feed Elijah, drink
lots of water, breathe deeply, receive an adjustment from
Gabriel, and then finally, I reached a place of stillness.
from Above, Beyond, and Through the Veil
The first image I saw was a large oval table with several
people sitting at it. The people in transcended form and sitting
in the seats of prominence were Mother Mary, St. Francis of
Assisi and Padre Pio, Mother Mary was in the center. There
were also six “human” beings present, that I recognized,
including me and Gabriel. We were being told about our life’s
work and what we need to learn before we could continue. I
was shown a man in Italy namely “Oberto” that
would be able to provide us information and training on death
and dying, while assisting those making the transition. He
would teach us what happens to the body before and after death,
what the transitions are, and how these stages need to be
cared for and honored and how to hold space for the passage
into the spirit world. The next scene was at a conference
that I was speaking at about my experiences of assisting those
who had made the transition. In this scene I was speaking
to hundreds of people, caretakers, healers, medical personnel
and sick people. I was telling the story of our preparation
before Mark’s passage, Kate and Matt’s father.
(I have written this account called “Mark’s Passage”
which can be accessed from a link on our website at www.gabriel-icasiana.com,
go to the travel update on France 3). Gabriel spoke next about
the passage of his father and how he was able to hold space
for his family and for his father during his transition. Our
work was traveling around the world, speaking about the transition
and teaching people how to hold sacred space for the person
making their passage in an honoring way.
After my trance, I asked Gabriel about the person named Oberto.
He said that there is a man at Damanhur, one of the places
we are planning to visit in Italy that has studied the transition
of life, and has written a book on death and dying. His name
is Oberto Auraldi. We will see if we can study with him on
the subject of death and dying and will be grateful for whatever
insights he can provide us on this important work of shifting
from being afraid of dying and avoiding it to honoring the
process and holding space for those making the transition.
of the Children
One key part of this trip that must be told is the transformation
of Matt and Kate. Icasiana and I dealt with a lot of resistance
and upset, especially in the beginning of the journey. They
both expressed their extreme displeasure, many times, (and
at especially irritating moments) about being forced to go
on this trip and being taken away from their friends. In addition
to this displeasure often directed our way, we were dealing
with old patterns of hurtful ways of communicating and acting
out, and disrespect toward their parents (or parental guardian
as I am often reminded by Kate as to what I am). I’m
sure many parents in America, and probably Britain, can relate
to what I am referring to.
Matt started calling me “Dad”, on his own choosing.
That was a turning point. This said to me that he was trusting
me to guide him and that he accepted me in the role of father.
And he calls me dad even when he’s pissed off about
how I may be challenging him.
Matt’s breakthrough was expressed by him in a recent
writing that moved many of our friends to tears because of
his amazing revelations and emotional honesty. We are continually
amazed at his insights and willingness to keep exploring this
terrain. We still also deal with hurtful behavior, and go
through conflict as we call him out to look at his actions.
Later, he has often come forward and acknowledged how he needs
to work on these areas. He keeps healing and inspiring even
as he is still a 12 year old, acting like a 12 year old, learning
how to deal with frustrations that are a part of life. Kate
recently had a major breakthrough herself. It was not as dramatic
as what Matt’s looked like, but it was a profound shift
for her in her being willing to wake up to patterns she has
been controlled by that have been destructive to her and hurtful
to those around her. Her path to recovery has been slower
as she has been in severe shock since her father died over
2 years ago. She has been angry and sad under the surface,
and her confidence and stability has been shattered. Her willingness
to reflect about her shattered confidence and why she is so
influenced by others was a profound awakening for her. It
came after she and I had a long talk about her taking responsibility
for her actions and realizing she is the creator of her life.
When she acknowledged her fears, a doorway opened for her
and she has shifted from resisting to trying to do her best.
As this journey has continued, Icasiana and I have marveled
at how the children have been willing to be vulnerable and
confront what has been difficult to confront. As deep healing
has occurred, there has been a joy and a harmony in the family
that is so cherished. Did I mention that there have been many
confrontations and challenges in this area along the way?
There still are, but the level that we function at has risen
and risen. This one-year journey has been such a blessing
in so many ways, and in family relations it has been huge.
We continue to thank creator for the abundance and the opportunity
to be on this amazing journey into our souls.
the Pyrenees and onto Damanhur in Italy
We were so glad we had gone out of our way to come to the
Pyrenees. It has been pristine, magical, and inspiring. We
had been taken to the ancient Compestella pilgrimage route,
we had made a wonderful connection with Harriet and Jean Jacque’s
family, and we had felt inspired by being in the presence
of the mountains, rivers and valleys. Driving back to the
east of France was a bit of a let down. Now we saw a lot of
trash along the roadsides, many industrial complexes, and
a bit rougher. We were now leaving France feeling so grateful
for our time here. We were crossing the south of France through
Montpelier, and then up to Annecy, to then head into Switzerland,
the land of the Alps. After Switzerland we will head to Italy
to see Florence, Rome, Venice, Tuscany, Assisi, and of course
Turin the nearby city to Damanhur. I (Gabriel) had visited
Damanhur once 5 years ago and had been so inspired by what
Damanhur embodies through their vision and demonstration of
what is possible to create in this world. Check out their
web site www.damanhur.org.
They are guided by spiritual principles, not religious doctrine.
They are forward thinking and presence oriented, creating
artistic masterpieces, all in the service of the divine. Damanhur
is a model of a sustainable eco-society; it is a group of
people working to inspire the creation of a better future.
Matt’s 12th Birthday
Matt recently turned 12 on this trip. I am so proud of how
he has had an expansive awakening, an igniting of the essence
of him that I had seen in him when he was first born. He had
been shrouded in judgment and shame by his father’s
perceptions of him. The change in Matt has been remarkable
in the past 2 years since his father died when he was nine.
He has had a positive male role model in Gabriel, which has
made his journey to healing so much faster and deeper. We
will be in Spain by November, Matt’s birthplace (as
well as Kate’s). It will be wonderful to remember this
place and the time of his birth. Matt was born at Rota, at
the US Naval Hospital near Santa Maria (the place where Columbus’s
voyage began). We celebrated Matt’s birthday with toasts
and prayers. Matt spoke of the changes in his life and what
he hopes for the future. Truly powerful medicine for all of
Thanks to all of you who took time to write to Matt. He has
been reading all the e-mails and has been encouraged by the
support he has received. God bless you all.
to Elijah on his 1st Birthday
Just the idea of writing to you on your first year I find
myself feeling so emotional. I am in awe of the spirit of
you, little boy. I am in awe of how you move through life,
of your pure heart and how you are so full of joy and passion.
You express yourself very clearly, it is very easy to know
what you want. It is amazing to see how you are a magnet
for good things, of drawing people’s heart open as
they come into your presence. There is a sweetness about
you, you have a deep awareness of what goes on around you
and an ability to relate to people on a soul level.
You express total joy and you just are. When you look at
me, it is with total presence. Whatever you do it is with
total presence. Your soul whispers to me of your future-
as a person connected to creator and your soul’s purpose.
There are certain tendencies you have that have shown themselves
already. If we are inside you may be crying, as soon as
we go outside the crying stops. You express such rapture
when you are in the natural world. Your whole being comes
alive, you will be shaking your body and moving in rhythm
and dancing on your daddy’s shoulders as you revel
in feeling and connecting with the life around you.
You show yourself also to have quite a natural passion for
music. If I am playing the piano you become quite insistent
about getting your chance to join in. You reach for the
keys and push me aside. I can only laugh and marvel at what
is so obvious.
This journey is not what we thought it was going to be.
Icasiana and I thought we were going to visit sacred sites
around the world. Actually we’re just the custodians
to take you to these sites so that you can be fed by these
mysterious places of power and wisdom. We thought we were
taking you on this trip, it’s turned out that you
have been taking us. It has been such a joy to carry you
around to all these places and have you sing your sweet
songs into my ear.
You are whole, there is no break in your connection with
the creator. Everything about you is luminous. I feel so
honored to be able to be in the role of father to you. I’m
willing to be the booster rocker for you, to help you get
out of the atmosphere till you can guide your own life.
I believe you will go much further than I can imagine.
Being father to you has been the crowning of this life for
me, it has caused me to live through my heart and I feel
my soul pulsing through my life. My hope for you is that
your connection with source is maintained and that you are
able to grow with that intact. My dream for you is not about
what job or profession you have, or about what you may accomplish,
my dream for you is that you continue to live through your
heart, that you touch all living beings from your soul,
and that you have the freedom to explore as your spirit
directs you. May your life be soul directed.
just want you to know that you just being you gives me such
Your loving father, Gabriel
we are to Italy...Follow us----->