I've been holding a lot of energy these past six months on a project that I thought would never ever end. It has been tremendously arduous learning, whilst being the recipient of a huge swathe of channelled work that I was enlisted to edit and make coherent in the form of a whopping 4-part manual. It's now available for study by the students who have already done the Peace Space mode to healing, which is a heal-the-healer type journey through the 13 colour ray spectrum - a study that journeys the student, basically, through 13 layers of human perception and enables them to intuitively understand and recognise their potential in any given situation and at any level they find themselves. Further to this, the student will have had to delve into the masters' colours (a deeper/greater level of learning and responsibility, towards the self and in turn, turning that into service for humanity), of which there are currently... gawd, I can't remember, I've lost count.
So as I have come out of this bottleneck of busyness and expanded back into my slightly less pressurized juggle of family life and work (I have no idea how I managed to keep the business afloat while I did that, as it literally squeezed every ounce of free time out of me and I would grab at opportunities to post a blog entry or go to the shops for groceries like a mad woman out on good behaviour). As I have done this ease back to relative normalcy, I've had more time to think more freely as well. And this is where whole scenes for the book have begun downloading into my brain once again.
I now carry around a notebook of tiny proportions, in which I jot every little grab and plot teaser that I am given. For too long, I have been assuming those things would come back to me, if I woke in the middle of the night with SUCH a blaringly good insight that I knew I couldn't POSSIBLY forget it by morning.... and, invariably, I have lost a great many of those amazing trains of thought, simply because I didn't write them down, even in part, to go back to and expand on. It is a great disservice of me to the eventual reader(s) of this book, that I do this and not follow the thoughts through onto paper to capture them.
One of the main things that came out, only at the start of this month, that I will be building on (somewhere, somehow, don't know yet) is one of the main conclusions I reached, probably about 2 years after Ellanor died.
Letting go is not giving up (or in)
In some respects, regarding the writing, I feel like I am starting again. But in others, I do still have faith and trust that it has happened this way for a very good cause. And I am beginning to see that, had I rushed to the finish line with my intended manuscript, where I was 12 months ago heading towards the final chapter with great gusto and so certain I knew what the last quarter of the book would contain, I would never have had the learning under my belt that I have just been gifted, through holding what I have done in the first part of 2010.
I can see now that I still have much work to do and I will be going back through the book, before it ever reaches a publisher's desk, and weaving in a lot of the hindsight understandings I've been given. For without them, this would be a somewhat rubber-necker's delight. And I would never want Ella's (and Steve's and my) story to be reduced to that.
