Tuesday, January 13, 2015

A Caribbean Sailing Adventure Aha!



This was posted in a Skype chat room today, I republish with permission of the author. -AK

A Caribbean Sailing Adventure Aha!
by MCH Harper
January13, 2015


My dream life last night gifted me the Answer to what has been niggling me since my arm was fractured in 2013.  It's a definite AHA! upgrade.

Last night, before I drifted into the space between sleep and awake, I put it to the Uni and my Dream-Guide-Self to”come on, spill the beans”, tell me what I kneed to know!”

I'm grateful Now.  

Preface- Believe me, I am going somewhere with this, trust me, but the following is for context:

In this current 3D lifetime, in the 1986, at age 36, I left everything-- all my sacred touchstones, everything and everyone I knew to be my havens of "safe" and familiar.   I flew to Florida to go sailing with a handsome college professor who once taught sailing at a New England college, who then dropped out and became a wandering seafaring captain.  Although he was someone I hardly spent any time with physically, I knew I was absolutely, totally, passionately, and most ardently IN LOVE with him.  As the way of many romance novel formulas, I met this hero on a very steamy vacation in a foreign country.  The only details I am willing to divulge is that it was in Cozumel Mexico, on New Years Eve, 1985.

The partner I manifested to share this part of my learning curve on the spiritual waters of Wake Up and Smell the Coffee, was an unbelievably magnetically attractive specimen of Masculinity at His Peak Potential.  The perk for me was that he exuded intriguing myriad  romance novel-like excitements and amusing traits.  You name it, he commanded his domaine with funny, rogue-ish, intelligent but daring charm.  Never coming down from the high I had from an unreal vacation amour, and after a 6-month phone romance,  I made the decision to literally put down my vacuum cleaner and make the call.  He begged me to go sailing with  him.    Being in love, and always wanting to travel, it didn't take much for me to cave.    Three weeks later I flew away to be with him; having quickly sold my business, amicably left my marriage but kept our friendship.  Leaving behind too all my beloved supportive women friends, family, and clients to their complete bafflement and consternation.  I'd sold my car, gave everything I owned to my friend and husband, and put my bare essentials in a big duffle bag.  I had no debt, no kids, no marriage; and essentially I was free of entanglements except huge guilt for leaving behind a frail father and a fearful mother.   How I made this monumental “you-will-rue-the-day- if-you-don't- do-this” decision was after an incredible series of epic precog dreams.  Dreams within dreams and a couple of psychic readings helped me unleash my vessel that was lashed to the Dock of What the Hell Do You Think You're Doing?   Well, I did cut the lines and sailed into my own Sunset.


Cap and I with a couple of his friends sailed for 2 months through the Bahamas, blue water sailing off shore to Jamaica, and back to Cozumel, then up  through the Keys of Florida, which gave this Baby Jellyfish  experience and tested culinary galley training and 1st mate skills enough to become a chef and first mate on a charter yacht, based out of St,. Thomas and later Tortola, BVI.  I was a lean, albeit green, albeit terrified shitless, but organized machine—a self-taught asset ready to immerse in the lifestyle of living in the Caribbean on a 65 ft yacht. I was brilliant at multitasking and thinking of everything that ha to be done luxury style for our  often inebriated and/or thoroughly hung-over, International vacationing guests..   Nothing to compare to, I set my own stellar standards of vacation service Golden Rule:  Give Unto Others What You Would Get For the Vacation of  a Lifetime, followed by a loud and clear Don’t Piss off the Cook caveat and warning.   They got everything they could possibly want and need to satisfy their vacation dream of sailing in the Caribbean.  It never occurred to me that they might not want what I wanted, but they were never the less wowed, as Cap and I raked in the tips.   We ate and drank quite well, and we saved a wad of FRNs.

There’s numerous sea adventures that occurred during this particular timeline I could tell you about which are funny, scary, and thought-provoking, but the bottom line for me was this was the hardest thing I ever did, which set me up later for the even harder things I ever did in the aftermath of such an intense soul-growing experience.

Those sailing lessons set the bar for what else I could endure, and I think now that’s what kept me from dying in the hospital after an emergency surgery in 2008.  Under the fog of pain killers that weren’t really working for me, I remembered thinking-- well, I survived sailing across the Atlantic, I guess I can keep going, but damn I was just so sick! Worried friends saw my ambivalence and thought I was gearing up for stepping off the planet.

Some adventures included:  1) being boarded by the US Coast Guard in a terrifying and debilitating storm  (which included frequent hurling) off the Yucatan Peninsula with our boat fitting a search worthy  military profile and thus we were suspected of drug smuggling, 2)  taking on water, floor boards floating, and almost sinking a multi-million dollar sailboat off Antibes in a Mediterranean mistral, 3) crossing the Atlantic with 10 stinky international male sailors and no other women on board, 4) coming face to face with Old Harry Baby, a 10-foot barracuda while snorkeling off a reef on  the little atoll Anegada,  and  5)  of course shall I mention getting my heart completely and inconsolably broken?   But, hey, all these can be discussed in Chapter 2.

 A segmental life review, identifying the synchronicities from the dreams, and plowing through subsequent years of  living and surviving 3D Illusion are like practice balls on a tennis court,  first slowly lobbing out epiphanal gems even  after so many years have gone by.   NOW,  gems come to me at lightning speed.  And in no Time.

Actually, early on, my first epiphany was “Hey-- Tootsie-pie, YOU created that whole experience yourself!”  And  “I really did live those Illusions.”   All my daydreams of wanting to travel, meet a hero just like in a Gothic novel world came alive. Eventually, I did manifest what my thoughts were focused on, but Go figure!  I failed to remember to manifest through Pure Love.  Or much less even try for Unconditional Love.

This opportunity presented to me by the Cosmos was a Soul Initiation to hone my courage, tenacity, above all others trust Self, and to test every aspect of my physical, logical, emotional, and spiritual strength..   Being the Initiate, my name changed constantly, often could be called Lonely, other times Exhaustion, Responsible, or Fear.  Oh don't forget Fear.  Never could I be called Relaxed.

Red faced and teary-eyed, I soon learned to shut up and be a team player very quickly in a navy man’s world.  Circumstances (and the 10 stinky men) required me to Suck it Up Princess and dump Plan A The-Independent-I-Can-Do-It-Myself-Plan, and daily rely on my 10 stinky boat mates at sea,  if I wanted to survive the storms and sail my “I AM Woman Hear my Roar” uppity ass to Antigua.    In 20/20 retrospect, I was surprised the 10 stinkys didn’t simply throw the Bitch overboard.  I admit some of my behaviors might have been completely justified.    I got a whole different take on the kindness of those fellow travelers from several oceanic experiences.  I have a different  perspective now that I have seen them at their best in the worst of situations.   I AM very grateful for their gifts to me, and grateful too for their respect. Well, grateful too that they ddidn'tthrow me overboard!

Watching the sunsets in those days were my only moments to try and relax a bit.  Most of the time relaxing was an unconscious reflex.  If I wasn't cooking or crewing, I was hanging on, or at the wheel.

I AM very grateful for their gifts to me, and grateful too for their respect. Well, grateful too that they didn't throw me overboard!

Watching the sunsets in those days were my only moments to try and relax a bit.  Most of the time relaxing was an unconscious reflex.  If I wasn’t cooking or crewing, I was hanging on, or at the wheel.

Looking out over a gray-green sea with smooth undulating, rolling water hills miles off into the distance, but rising higher and higher on the horizon at mountainous heights.  I was in a several mile wide and astoundingly deep deep waveless trough of ocean. It is a surreal sight to see.  Vastness sings the lyrics of Humble song.  And sounds pinging back from space are the music Planets and Star Beings sing Vast-- a chorus of Creation for when you are at sea, you can hear the planets at night.   It’s the same music as the phosphorescence of quiet waves breaking in the moonlight.  As above, so below. . . .  Our tiny-ness is a Paradox for our Oneness is HUGE beyond all perception.

So what was the big whooo-haw handed off to me in last night’s romp in the ethers? It’s a biggie for me --  “You might want to relax now, there’s nothing to prove.”  What I interpreted was this:    You proved you could do it by simply leaving the dock.  It was your created show then, as it is Now.  There’s being at work, and then there’s BEING.

I've known for a long time that I came here to do something that “made a difference”.  I even have that written in my childhood diary at age 10.  After 2012, Purpose was then shown me with more definition, to “hold space for Gaia/Sophia’s Golden Energies”.

But today  I awoke with the thought  “Oh but see if you can “hold space” while BEING relaxed. . . .   Pure Love just IS”      Nothing to grasp or hold on to, it just IS.  It permeates the tension one holds, so holding is made easy.  It is all enfolding.  Holding space doesn't have to be work if you choose it that way.  Pure Love transmutes holding space into a floating intention, there is no “tension”.    Anyway, that’s what came in to me on a Gamma Ray!


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