Do you know that feeling, that you have to do something.....but can´t quite remember what?
This story is just that.
I remember being told to write it but I can´t remember what I was supposed to tell you. What I do know is that everything I am going to tell you really happened, even though it may unbelievable sometimes.
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Chapter 31
The karma of giving and receiving, you never receive from those you give to.
The same for this job quest, here I was in Torremolinos Spain asking everyone and their sunburned mothers for a job, while the opportunity unfolds miles away just a 25-minute walk from the house I lived in.
The worst thing was that I had seen this coming, and I knew that I had to go through the pain and fear of rejection first before receiving the reward. Don´t think knowing that makes it any easier because it does not. It makes it harder, if I did not know I could procrastinate and end up not doing it at all.
But no, I knew I had to take it on the chin first.
I don´t think I noticed then that it was a first. For the first time, I did not do the butterfly thing and let the winds of time steer me around, and make me land wherever. This was the first time I knew that by doing A, B would happen. My eyes and ears had opened up, just a little but I was no longer Tommy, the deaf, dumb, and blind boy anymore.
Learning to listen, learning to separate my thoughts and ego from the whispers I did not produce myself. Learning that you are not the only one putting words into your head, and then separating your ego talk from the guidance you are receiving.
Are we all guided?
I think we are all able to receive if we open up and are able to down the noise and listen to the voice.
It ain´t easy, it´s hard to learn to understand who speaks when. To some, it comes more straightforward than to others who deny themselves the blessing of knowing there are guides beyond the veil caring for your little worthless being.
If you just are grasping the idea that we might be guided by voices, it's so hard to accept, to trust, to swallow. I would never have believed it myself, not even after meeting Sei.
Sei always felt like the perfect gift to me, which was reflected in how she treated me.
Was she really a guide, I don´t think so. She was the wake-up call at two minutes to midnight. A guide is different, a guide can be like a friend that visits you in times of need, or like a grandfather that looks through every fiber of your human shell and kicks your butt saying: "No buts just grow up son."
One other thing I started to understand was that this realm of spirits, guides, and energy clearly wasn´t perfect, predictable, or predetermined. That much had become clear from my Opa crash coursing into becoming a guide. The realm is not much more than ours, all based on predictability, never on certainty. It´s just that their timelines do not rely on keeping the fragile body in a functional state.
Other than that, life beyond the flesh is not so different from what we experience till our flesh gives out. We all are cogwheels in an incomprehensible machine driven by forces beyond our understanding.
Even when we are dead we will have a hard time seeing the true plays of the puppet masters. . Things might be a bit more transparent, but still, I wonder how much of what they do is manipulated by forces they do not see and therefore do not fear.
My lessons learned opened my eyes and taught me to distance myself from everything that eats away at my core. The guiding lights may surround you, but if you are blinded by the sparkles of distraction, your ego loves to lose the way home and just wander through life. Because focusing takes patience, effort, persistence, and faith.
Just look at all the kicks in the butt I needed before I learned to listen,
Finally, I had taken my first steps onto my path myself. A path that never gets flat and easy to travel, the further you go the more rubble you will need to overcome. I might have faced my demons and won my first battle, which opened the first door.
It was the door of the bus back home.
I had to leave the day after the call, which meant I could not my deposit on the room I rented back. The guy would send it by bank. The guy was renting these rooms because he lost his job and I knew that leaving without that €100 meant I would never see it again.
I did not care, I had just seen the bottom and felt worse than I ever did before. This job would be the turning point, the start of many new lives. Not because of the money, which definitely was needed badly, but because now I could finally hear.
Ten to six on a Monday morning in July, somewhere in Andalusia Spain where the temperature would go up as high as 40 Celsius throughout the course day.
I was early, waiting, and looking at a few familiar and mostly unfamiliar faces. They all knew each other, that much was clear. I had no clue what to do. My first day of working construction ended up being nothing more than running around with wheelbarrows filled with cement for the foundation.
It was hard, back-breaking heavy and I enjoyed every minute of it. I had my first Spanish job and it would last at least four months, that would be four months of income and then possibly receiving some minor benefits in the months thereafter.
The smile I wore on my face that day shuffling cement was huge. I knew this would get me back on my feet, I did not realize that it would be in so many ways.
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