CHOOSING NEEDLES (a vision)
Sitting at my computer early morning hours...
Lost time for a few minutes, not sure how many...upon coming around,
A voice, male and very familiar was calling to me...I knew the voice as well as my own, but couldn't place a name to it. I followed it to a tiny clearing where I was approaching a small open fire...several people sat around it. They were huddled and had dark tattered blankets pulled up around themselves including their heads. I wanted to go to them but held back for an instant and heard the male voice call to me over my left shoulder. I lost something here and next was in another clearing with the man.
I knew him but still couldn't remember his name. He opened a box and offered me to choose one of the objects inside. (no actual voices here...all just knowing what was being expressed). I picked up the two objects; a ring in my left hand and a set of sewing needles in my right. I was examining them when the man seemed to hear something and sent me to hide. I turned to my far right and crawled backwards into a small hole in the earth. All of me was there in the hiding place with only my face peering out.
I watched as a group of men entered the clearing from the same way I had. they were wearing very white shirts, about 8-10 of them. I froze up as I realized that they were going to kill the man. I tried to get up but couldn't move. I tried to yell out but had no voice. Suddenly I knew that they wanted the ring! I looked down into the hole and opened my left hand where I still held the ring. I looked from it to the men in white shirts several times. again I tried to get up but could not. The men started to converge on the man. I grew more frantic and tried to locate the source that was permitting my being able to move.
My focus was taken to a tree near straight ahead of me but across the clearing. It was rather bare of leaves and was sheltered by taller trees on the sides and behind. I felt the force coming from there, an invisible force that held me in place disallowing my emergence. I said, "Let me go to him." the reply was, "No."
I looked back to the man. He laid on the ground, a gold cup (with thick stem, and something inlaid around the top near the rim, may have been stones although I did not get good look at them) was in his hand that laid down near his thigh. I called to him in my mind, begging him to look toward me. I wanted to catch his gaze, I messaged him mentally with all the power I could muster. He refused to look to me. I felt a terrible yearning, begging him to meet my gaze, was the deepest yearning I have ever felt...yet he refused.
I looked back to the tree. things are a bit foggy for a bit and when I look back to the man, He is dead. The men are milling around, they want that ring, I look again at it in my hand then back to them. I notice a small gold cross on the upper left back of one of the white shirts. I note the shirts, am obsessed by them sort of. White, so very white, with puffy sleeves, tight wrist bands and all pressed. (Look like they came from a professional laundry) They scoff at the cup kick at it, it rolls away from the mans side. (they seem not to know its value, as if the value is being blocked from them in some way) they leave the same way they had come. I am free to move so I crawl out of the hole. My mouth hangs open and I am empty...just numb and very empty. The cup has disappeared (but they did not take it).
I look into my hands. I know I am to choose the needles. The man is dead, I cannot give him back the ring so I walk over and place it in a tiny hollow in the tree. The man is dead, I don't bother with his body. I do wonder how it is he died...no marks on him...no blood, no weapons...I walk past him...still numb like on auto pilot and leave the clearing opposite from the way I had entered...(seems I entered from south and exited north)...It is daytime yet all is dusk yet it is not clouds, like rain clouds, its something else blocking the full rays of the sun. I find a stump or rock and sit down. I just sit there...my mouth kind of hanging open...my mind blank...I know that when I am able to move again I will follow a path to my left and that I will use the needles at some point in that distance...
Betsy Foster
© June 1998
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