Future self
A few days ago, I carried out a meditation to see my future self. She was happy, had lost the weight I have been trying to lose and was agile. I was told she was 71.
When asked about any advice she had for me, she said maintaining fitness and regaining agility were important. I have already known this and each day I say to myself that I must start including stretches or yoga back into my daily activities. I lost so much fitness during the three years I suffered from pericarditis and although my walks each morning are short ones, at least now I am walking. Following my future self’s advice, I shall make sure I continue to do so and one day start that yoga again.
Another image I was shown in this latest meditation, was a large bare room, with cushions around it. Earlier I had seen the garage, so I gathered we were still living in the same place, just with the addition of this room. Perhaps I put it there to do my workshops in.
We had visitors for lunch on Sunday. It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn toward one of the many conspiracy theories floating around. This one was particularly gloomy.
“Oh well, I’ll be okay, I have just seen my future self and she was fine,’’ I piped up. That ended that conversation with one of the visitors stating ``well, I guess we won’t be so bad here in New Zealand.’’
Seeing future images when not in meditation is something I have always done, though I had not always been aware I was doing so. It was just something I did automatically. It took Daniel’s passing to show me this. He was due to get married in France, but each time I thought about the upcoming wedding, there would be no images, rather a grey emptiness. It made it very hard for me to book my plane ticket and I was the last of the family to do so. It was only after Daniel died that I realised why I had been so reluctant to travel and it was then that I had the awareness that I see future images all the time. When I think about an upcoming event, I am always given pictures of it, such as with Levi’s wedding. Even if it was something I didn’t end up attending, I would still see the pictures in my head. This time, because there was to be no event, there were no images.
Another time when this was particularly helpful, was when my job for the day included a plane ride to an island near Auckland, a journey that would take us nearly an hour. At the time, I was the farming reporter for the local paper. One of the farmers had a business where he matched those wanting farms to graze their stock on and farmers with this land to lease. Aboard our plane, was the pilot, the business owner, the farmer looking for grazing land and me.
I had never flown on such a small plane before, and the first major difference I noticed, was that the windows could be opened and closed by pulling on a block of wood attached to the top of the window. Everything rattled and it did cross my mind if this plane would hold together with us all on board.
The trip there was uneventful but interesting. We followed the coast up to Auckland and I was able to make out my former brother-in-law’s large hill-country station as we crossed over it.
We landed on the small runway and an hour or two later were ready for the return journey. In the meantime, the wind had got up and there was now a strong cross-wind blowing toward the parked plane.
It had never entered my head that we might not make it home that day and my fears started to rise, not that the plane trip could be dangerous, but that I didn’t have any spare underwear or spare clothes with me, should we be stranded.
We climbed aboard and the pilot instructed the business owner to pump some pedals while he concentrated on the controls, giving a demonstration before he started the engine. I gathered this was not standard practice, with the pilot usually minding his own controls.
As I had seen a future event I would be attending, I knew we would get home safely, but the poor farmer seated next to me did not and was white with fear. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his hands gripping the seat belt tightly. I wish I had just leaned over and told him we would be all right. The take off was precarious, with the wind pushing the plane sideways, the business owner pumping those pedals and the pilot steering the plane down toward the gully before climbing into the sky. Soon we were comfortably flying homewards.
The farmer turned to me and with huge relief in his eyes said ‘’we made it.’’ Indeed, we did.
It was not the best of trips back for me as I suffered from air sickness. That was the next big difference I discovered between a small and large plane. There were no sick bags. Fortunately, I managed to pull out the plastic bag that I had stored my lunch in and use that, opening it just in time. It was embarrassing though, as I knew the smell would have permeated the small cabin.
These pictures I see have been helpful for me throughout my life. And at least I know I have another five years ahead of me and I will be happy. What more could anyone want?