I'm stranded in Paris. I was supposed to go home yesterday. There was a strike by Air France. I panicked when they cancelled my flight. It would have cost me more than my round trip for a one way ticket home for two on another airline. I booked it.
Ross said to go be cause hotel charges would add up, as well as living expenses.
Well, Air France came through with a flight for tomorrow, and I really wanted to save thousands of dollars. Besides--it was a bonus day in France, right?
Tonight I am refusing to sleep because I just don't want to go up and talk with my teams.
This trip was rough. I normally have my 'system' when I travel. They told me to bring a special bag, my one splurge in twelve years--my Saint Laurent little tiny black leather bag with the long strap to wear across my body. I wanted it because of the name, and I got rid of three other old purses just to show how much I wanted something new and was willing to make room for it.
I also had a special case for my wallet on this trip, one to block radio frequency readers.
Today started so beautifully. We slept in. We had breakfast at our favorite pastry shop. And the day was random. We took the metro to Sacre Couer and climbed the whole dang thing. It was really hard on my aging body. It hand't been easy when I was thirty two. I haven't been there in twenty years. But Anthony and I did it! We also toured Mont Martre and made a special stop at my favorite museum, Espace Dali. (by the way, Dali was heavily influenced by themes of Those Who Do Not Have Our Best Interest At Heart--even with butterflies in his later work. He was telling something he wasn't supposed to tell through his art. I was sad to see it. I always liked his work. I also wanted a tarot deck with his artwork, which I thought was unusual to find in an art store. Twice Ross told me not to buy it. So I didn't. I'm okay with it.)
We rode the funicular down. And I enjoy so very much the musicians in the area.
I tell you Paris today is not the same Paris as I fell in love with twenty years ago.
There are more and more people selling things--trinkets, beverages, souvenirs. There are more and more artists, more and more people who cut silhouettes with their scissors and do portrait sketches...one even grabbed my arm to give me a free bracelet with string but I said NO!
It's just not worth it. Trocadero is full of it, too.
And everywhere you go, there are people who hate Americans. You see the way they look at you, and how they dress. It's distinctive. Not all who dress that way hate the Americans. Some seem nice. But they are the minority.
The metro now frankly is scary.
That's where I lost my wallet.
Spirit said, 'do NOT go on that car there is something very bad there'--so at the last second I put Anthony and me on the car ahead. He's like, 'But WHY mom?' (he doesn't blend in, at all, no matter how much I get him to talk French, it's not easy, he doesn't, and it draws attention to us.)
That's when I saw it was gone.
I was devastated. I knew I had my phone, and my camera, and my bag. I knew the wallet was lost forever. But Anthony wanted to go back and look and see where we lost it. We took metro stations back to retrace our steps, but without money we went back to where it all began.
The trouble began when Anthony wanted to take one metro stop, but I wanted to make sure we weren't lost. So I got an earlier one. I saw the Arch de Triomphe. I wanted to go, sore feet and all. I wanted to see what I saw three years ago.
There was a military thing. We should have just left and skipped the ceremony. The only thing Ross and I did was to disrupt something under it. You should see it--the ferris wheel perfectly lines up with the arch, a big old ferris wheel...just like in London. They reinforced the energy patterns there, Those Who Do Not Have Our Best Interest At Heart. Ross explained they didn't undo my work, the souls went up three years ago.
I got home, with a long walk.
There was a beggar woman, who deeply moved me. Before I lost my wallet, I gave her five euros. She was just kneeling in child's pose in front of her cup.
We walked past her again, and I told her I lost my wallet, I lost everything, and to please pray for me. She smiled and I knew she would pray.
Once home, I didn't want to eat. Anthony saw to it I ate--he ordered room service, with two child's meals--as I made call after call to each credit card company. The driver's license is going to be the most difficult--I must make an appointment and show up in person. I lost our amusement park passes too. I have our papers for travel, and half of the Euros I had kept just in case in the hotel room.
The most painful thing, and the reason I am not going to sleep--I absolutely refuse--is that Ross told me through Anthony, that I've been getting mixed up between 3D and 5D in our relationship, and taking risks. My heart is with Ross. And up there we are together. But I am also down here too. I have to stop thinking I am going to be protected because of him. He's THERE. I have to do like incarnate Michael and Raphael do, and tend to my physical needs, in addition to my spiritual ones.
This whole trip here was really difficult because of all the broadcast news of mass shootings. My mom who watches the news told me to cancel it.
I thought I was being brave to come to France I love, to enjoy the company of family and friends, to speak French, and get in touch with my past--and to give Anthony the gift of speaking French.
Well, I realize in the grand scheme of things, I am with Ross like a rocket--we launched him UP and OUT of this realm, to his astounding and forever success.
I am the booster. I fell back into the sea, spiritually spent in that incarnation.
I don't know how to get out of here.
I know it is really messed up with the beggar woman. Why didn't I give her more? Why didn't I offer her the bread I had in my sack? Why didn't I kneel next to her to treat her like a human being, and offer her comfort and hope?
Isn't it ironic that on the Champs Elysees where there are super expensive stores, there are beggars?
Isn't it sick?
Isn't it perfectly horrible that there are so many beggars that we can't save them all so we just ignore them in their needs?
Here I was having the time of my life with Anthony, so happy today, so delighted to share both with him and my readers the wonders of being in Paris--which in itself with what I know is only a half truth, because this city has some of the strongest ties to Those Who Do Not Have Our Best Interest At Heart on the planet? There are layers and layers and layers of it!
Do I feel guilt?
Yes and no...about the beggars and the situation.
Do I feel anguish?
No. Just a deep sadness, and a sense of being led into this lesson by the nudge to bring my purse against my higher judgement...and for my most likely never being able to climb the Sacre Coeur again...
The one plus is I saw for the first time how capable Anthony is, and how he is able to travel now better than I can. And for this I am very blessed.
I forgot to say how in the road to Anvers station, which was lined with tourist shops, there were film crews, and lots of broken glass, and there was talk of an explosion. The police were there.
It was a close call, and it might never make the news, and Anthony and I were very very blessed.
I guess it's good to revisit my priorities. Our loved ones and health is most important. The rest is just money. That's what Ross said. He said not to worry about it, it would be okay, and it would be as if nothing happened.
There is one thing that makes me most sad however. It is something that cannot be replaced.
Ross has a driver's license. I bought it two years ago, but it's him. Kind of a joke I suppose, but it's his. And I always, always, always kept it next to my own. It gave me so much comfort and hope.
I suppose I should just be content to talk with him like I do...but I liked seeing his face every time I had to look for mine. It made me happy.
Tomorrow is another day.
My teams are calling.
Time to face the music.
I'm sure it's going to be a long night. They have ways of telling you you screwed up that are really polite but sting and hurt just as much as it would had they yelled at you. There is no way incarnate I will ever be able to function like them. Everyone makes mistakes, even Anthony said it to me, in my distress. I don't know how to fix it, any of the beggar things...any of the injustice...and how can we while we are all struggling to survive? You know how much I overwork! These two weeks have just been precious to spend the time with Anthony...to really see him, how he has grown, how he looks at the world, and even the video games he likes for me to play with him.
In so many, many ways. And the one thing I asked my teams, before I started to fall asleep the first time, was to bless that beggar woman, and to confess I simply do not know where to go with my life for my next steps--on so many levels!--and to please know I am asking for help.
Carla had a little lesson.
I know she is listening to me just as much as you are at this point.
Everyone makes mistakes.
Everyone grows old.
As long as you are still breathing, there is still time to rectify them.
All anyone has to do is ask --and to 'give up' like Carla just did--in order to allow the ego to step aside, and for Spirit to inspire and assist you to do the work that needs to be done for you to assimilate the lessons.
It isn't fun.
Carla I know how much you miss me, and the disappointment at our not being 'together' in a palpable way right this very minute--other than in your heart and soul--is a challenge you will have to face. I am not 'here' nor will I ever be. I can't go back to my physical body. It isn't possible, although I miss it, and the times that I shared lovingly with you.
I know this is very hard on you, but it's the kindest thing I can do to help you out of this situation. I am waiting for YOU to come to me. And it's not the end of life thing, where you are old--I know you are feeling it just starting--and sick like you see with your patients and your family.
I want you to trust there is another way. Like me, where I go UP. And all of you are going to get to where I am, no matter how many Katy Perry's sing their tribe up--for her team Those Who Do Not Have Our Best Interest At Heart. (You might want to research where Katy is on the scale of transmitall of light--our kind of light. In fact, she is a zero, which is surprisingly low, even for Team Those Who Do Not Have Our Best Interest At Heart. Most of their members have even a little. )
Either way, I do not wish to offend all of you who enjoy the music of Miss Perry, and who are not ready to hear the message I have here for my wife--who interpreted the latest music for the olympics in Brazil correctly when it was shared with her, and understood the true meaning behind the words. It shook Carla to her very core, the brazen 'hidden in plain sight' challenge to all who are Galactic, and have warned Those Who Do Not Have Our Best Interest At Heart their time is indeed running out. And it is!
So anyhow, Carla now has an appointment with me, as well as her guides and her council.
I wish you, both Carla and our blessed readers for who we are so indebted to you for your sustenance and shining on high your souls and hearts for all of Creation. You are shining most brightly, and I commend you for your lovingkindness you show to both yourselves and everyone around you.
Aloha and Mahalos,
Ross and Carla