spoiler alert! I just wanted to warn again that some of the previous post and this one has spoiler type material about “Emergence Collective.” I personally hate spoilers. I dont even like it when your watching a show, and they tease THE NEXT scene during the commercial break. For me I love the suprise and discovery as the story unfolds.

I use transcended and ascended interchangeably, even though they are not precisely synonymous. I think it still fits. I still think a lot about the nature of consciousness. What is it? Where does it come from? One of my favorite theories is that the human body is like a marionette where our consciousness pulls the strings outside the body. You cut the strings,  and the body dies or is in stasis like a coma.

 But where is the puppeteer? In a higher realm, a higher resonant frequency outside of conscious reality. And our brains act like a filter preventing us from experiencing that higher realm. It is only when we alter our state of mind that the filter is removed, and we can experience the true reality as its resonant frequencies are revealed. Whether it is through strict meditation or mind-altering chemicals like Ayahuasca, a potent hallucinogen that contains a chemical called DMT or dimethyltryptamine. Whatever the catalyst is that allows us to escape the prison of our brain doesn’t matter once free, and one is perceiving a higher reality, the awareness of the nature of the universe expands. We start to fully understand our place in it. Learn that we have abilities that were previously only imagination. Learn to connect with others on a deeper spiritual level, communicate and express ideas. Travel throughout the realm and defy the physics of the reality our bodies are trapped in.

I know this sounds like the ravings of a metaphysical stoner. I think I communicated the essence of these ideas in the story well enough. But wait! There’s more; however, I will not bore you any longer. I do explore these concepts much more deeply in the next book. I think that once you get your feet wet in the first book, the second will be more satisfying as you explore your own thoughts on the potential of what could be done if all of this was real. I would love to hear your thoughts on this!

It’s a character snapshot, but these two characters are equally important together as they are apart, so I decided to lump the snapshot together. I really enjoyed writing the relationship between these two. I really wanted to express the kind of purity of love two people could share if they had the freedom of innocence….

Mark’s beat-up Honda fishtailed around the corner of the driveway and then skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust in front of the longhouse. Trina had a white-knuckle grip on the dashboard as if she was holding on for dear life. “Why do you have to drive like a crazy person?” she shouted, but the look on her face was one of excitement rather than terror.  “Umm, because it’s fun?” he said with a chuckle. “Well, here we are. Let’s find the best cabin before anyone else calls dibs.” 

“Yeah, good call,” she said as she got out of the car and stretched her back. “This is a cool place,” she said as she looked around, taking in the layout of the place. “But geez, namaste much?” Mark chuckled at that last remark. “Yeah, he was the poster child for hippies, I guess. That’s probably why my dad and Grandad pretended he didn’t exist.” “I think you might be cut from the same cloth, honey, ya know? A long-hair dropout in a family of lawyers and doctors. You’re not gonna get rich, but I love ya,” she said softly. 

He walked over and put his hands on her tiny waist, and pulled her close to him. “That’s how I know you love me. You’re not a gold digger. He whispered in her ear, “That makes me richer than any of ’em.” 

“I think this place is making you mushy,” she whispered back. He moved closer to her ear. “It’s also making me horny.” Then he playfully swatted her butt. She pretended to be mad and started to push him away but grabbed his hand and started pulling him to the cabins. “Let’s go find us a cabin, my ‘mushy’ man,” she said and winked at him. He dared not resist as she led him down a random path. “These cabins are all in good condition. I was imagining something like sleeping in a dirty barn,” Trina said as she peered into the window of a pleasant-looking cabin. “I like this one, but I want something, ya know, a little more private.” “Anything for you, love,” he said, smiling. “Yeah, I think Uncle Frank had a lot of time on his hands and kept the place up nicely.” 

They reached the end of the path at a cabin that seemed to be the farthest from all the others. Mark walked up the few steps to the porch and opened the door. “Should I carry you over the threshold?” Trina pushed past him with a smirk. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, bucko,” she said sarcastically. 

“Well then,” he said with an exaggerated bow, “after you, m’lady,” then followed her in. 

Frank is a fan favorite, Mine too. I tend to use people I know as a template (not biograghically) for some characters. Frank is modeled after a real person….

Still lost in his thoughts and even a little excited, he must have been driving faster than he realized since he got to the hardware store in quick time. It was good, though; the evening was going by fast, and the store was about to close up for the night. He got out of his Volkswagen van and pushed open the old door of the storefront. He only got a few steps into the store when the cashier gave him an odd look. The young kid had spiky black hair and a ring in his nose. 

“Mister… you can’t come in here like that, sorry.” The young kid sounded apologetic and amused at the same time. 

“Like what?” Frank was oblivious to any reason why he should not be there. 

“Your feet, bro. You have to have shoes to come in; it’s a safety thing. Might step on a nail and sue us or something.” A smile indicating laughter was soon to follow was on the boy’s face by now. 

Frank looked down at his feet and realized that he wasn’t wearing shoes. The thick calluses on his perpetually dirty feet did not feel shoes in the summer most of the time. He was an old hippy and stuck in a time warp. Shoes were for winter when it was too cold to go without. He chuckled at himself and smiled back at the cashier.

“Sorry,” Frank said with a bit of a giggle. He was not embarrassed by his attire. Look at that kid; why should I be embarrassed by the way I dress? he thought to himself, almost laughing out loud. Nonchalantly turning around, he gave the cashier a nod goodbye and headed for the exit. He only felt a little disgruntled by the situation since it was a wasted trip. He did not have anything much to do anyway, but wasted gasoline was wasted money.