Prepping for Finals

by Trinity S. Thomas on June 20, 2011

Sacred Triangle

 

Part 11 of THE JOHN OF GOD CHRONICLES

Tomorrow begins the last week of my pilgrimage. Today I felt even more powerful magic than I have become accustomed to.

After two early crystal bed sessions, I took up residence on a white garden bench at The Casa and wrote my prayers for a while. Prayers for my loved ones, and eventually prayers for myself. That I be granted the grace of freedom from any falseness, that the pain in my heart be removed, that I be consecrated to my truest purpose.

I had an outgoing tsunami of prayers of forgiveness, both for me and from me, coursing through me for awhile. Perhaps I imagined it, but the garden seemed unusually still at that time. And I felt unusually present.

Then it was Triangle Time. I went into the main public chamber of The Casa and sat to wait my turn to leave my prayers in the Sacred Triangle at the front of the room, right beneath a painting of Jesus cradling a lost lamb.

My turn came quickly. I took off my shoes, laid down my purse and camera, and walked barefoot up onto the raised platform under the Triangle affixed to the wall. I put my prayers in, behind all the dozens if not hundreds of other prayers and photographs. As is the custom, I put my arms on each side of the Triangle and my head inside it, forehead on the wall itself.

I felt my head go IN. Beyond the wall, into the wall, no longer feeling the wall, into some other place or dimension that felt a little heavy and energized at the same time. And I prayed, like I have never prayed before, from my heart rather than any aspect of my mind. I’m not really a big ‘prayer’ person, or at least I wasn’t. I may be now. I felt the prayers take form, affect outcomes, release bitterness, make a difference. I now know, from the deepest part of myself, what Living Prayer is.

I have no idea how long I was there. I was fleetingly aware a time or two that others were waiting. The thought would fly by and be gone before I could think about moving. Soon I was not praying anymore; I was being prayed. The Triangle was praying me with a sense of rightness and eternity and yesness very difficult to translate into words. Eventually I was able to imagine moving, and I lifted my head away from the wall a little. Some papers were stuck to my forehead so I shook slightly to disengage them. It was time to move my arms. But they were not moving. So I began moving my fingers and eventually was able to unlock the Star Trekkish tractor beam’s hold on my arms.

I didn’t want to leave the Sacred Triangle, but I managed to walk to my chair. I sat for quite a while longer, stunned at what I had experienced. I realized on the walk back to my hotel, or Pousada, that I am prepping for finals week.

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