Spiritual Alchemy Learning Center

School

Learning continues to occur in my dreams. These dreams place me in schools. This time I am in high school and all the people I am with look a great deal like my high school friends. Frank was an incredibly tall and handsome basketball player. In astral, he is my height now, but still full of energy and quite good looking. Some of my girlfriends are much better looking than I remember them to be.

We are all sitting in the cafeteria. No one is eating but we are all posed as though we might be eating and socializing. Suddenly an incredible hush comes over the whole room all at once. I whisper to the man next to me. "Is God here?" I ask wondering what the stunned silence might be. He looks around the whole room and at everything and everyone in the room. Not able to hold back his laughter like a naughty high school boy he answers, "Yes!"

Art is older than I am. When I was little, I had a "crush" on him. He was always so nice. I am walking home from school now and I spot him speaking with an investigator by a white car. I stop to see what is going on. He states that someone took his vehicle and gestures to the white car. The investigator opens up the car and looks inside the pocket of the white leather armrest. There is an ID with Art's photo and some money. (I have learned that money in astral stands for energy.) Somehow I recognize the money and the ID as mine. The ID is the way I see Art. On the back of the card is taped a picture of how I see Arts ideal mate. She is Asian and very petite... two things that I will never be in this lifetime. I walk away with the money and the ID card that I made thinking how funny forgotten times are. The energy was just there for someone else to use and I had just forgotten about it over time. The seeds of magic I would call them. Sometimes the seeds do not grow for us but we scatter so many without careful thought until we learn not to.

I continue on and sit at a table of a restaurant. Again I am not eating but sitting as though I am eating and drinking again. A stunningly handsome man who is dressed in a very primitive way is looking at me. He stands very tall and proud and carries a staff. He is a black man and his hair is cut very short and has patterns in it. I watch him shaded from under my umbrella in the nice cafe. He looks like he is trying to communicate through a prism of some sort not coming in full focus. The light on him is different than the light on me. He looks like he is in twilight somewhere else. I ask him who he is. He speaks. I see his mouth open and shaping a syllable with an expression that indicates that he has something very important to say. I can't hear him.

The Rest Area

The first time I saw Blackie, my deceased cat in astral, I was carrying him on my shoulder. He used to love to ride that way. I took him upstairs where a nice lady was sitting quietly rocking and knitting. She was surrounded by different varieties of black and white cats. I wondered if this was one of the rest and recovery areas I had read about. Each cat in the area near to her had its own kitchen table which it was happily looking out from under. It made me smile how they like the kitchen tables to sit under just like their earth home. After all, I should understand. I keep sitting at tables as though I am going to eat and drink.

I asked her if she would take care of Blackie. "Why of course dear," she answers, "I will take lovely care of Blackie until you get back." Blackie jumps off my shoulder and bounces past all the kitchen table cats with what I call his "happy dance walk." He was apparently happy and already knows his place quite well. I did not see where he went to because he seemed to travel quite quickly and far off from the rest area.

My journey continued back downstairs. I sat at one of those tall bar room tables that was around a handsome dealer and a spinning wheel. Again I sit as though I am eating and drinking with other people but there is no food or glasses about. He kept on calling me by other people's names. The people were present and offering me their energy in the form of money, stocks and bonds. I kept on refusing thinking that this would be the end of their earth life if I did this.

He places certificates in front of me on the table. "Here you go Ms. Smith," the dealer says to me. My name is not Ms. Smith I think. Ms. Smith is there. She is very old. "Take it," Ms. Smith says. "You take it, it is your's," I answer. "You think I should take it?" Ms. Smith asks "Yes," I respond.

After all the dealing is done, I go back upstairs for Blackie. The nice lady leaves and returns handing me another black and white cat that is not Blackie. "This is not Blackie," I say. She strokes the cat gently. "Blackie can't go because he is dead right now," she responds. "This is Footsie," she adds. Footsie was a very sweet barn cat that died at a very young age. Perhaps this has something to do with Thomas who just decided somehow that he was my cat no matter what.

---Evonne dealing in astral?

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