Each morning, Molly would return to The Attic after breakfast to write. Every time she climbed those stairs, she would feel a lightness, a tingle run through her body. It was more than her imagination, she could feel it, as a physical sensation. Even Will had begun to feel more at ease, a sense of peace whenever he came upstairs to visit her, on the days when she had gotten lost in writing and not been down for a break. But there was something more to this room than Molly was able to put words to just yet. And the house, there was something special, magical about the whole house. Each day it felt bright, cleaner, tidier, less tired, none of her doing as she had been busy in The Attic writing.
Sitting at the bureau, in what had become her favourite chair – the captain’s chair, she looked out over the garden where Will was working, weeding and uncovering all sorts of treasures in the plant kingdom. A little sadness swept across her heart, knowing that he would be returning to work soon. As much as most of this could be done from home, the demand for his work took him overseas for several weeks at a time. She sighed deeply, wanting to stop the momentum of this little bit of sadness. “Must be time for a pot of tea to shake this off,” she thought. Standing up, her eyes still watching her beloved out the window, she felt the presence of Grace.
“I recall that feeling,” she whispered in Molly’s ear. Startled, Molly turned around to see a vision of Grace fading, leaving her with a growing sense of sadness. “Right! It is time for tea!” she said out aloud. “Care for a cup?” she asked Grace. “I really would like to share a cup of tea with you one day,” she said to the room and the response which came was one that she was getting used to…the lock on the door clicked, and the door opened slowly.
Downstairs in the kitchen Molly enjoyed the ease of the new stove, which had been installed the day before. It was a combination of new and old, a great design. It had a gas ring and wood stove with a modern version of the wetback to heat the water. She and Will planned to install a solar hot water system in addition to this for the summer months. The whole unit replicated the look of an old enamel wood stove, a shade of pale green with tiny black and white flecks. It had two ovens, one gas and one wood fired. Will and Molly loved to cook and a good stove was an important feature in the kitchen. For now, not much else needed to be done. Will had fixed the leak in the roof, although they were aware that the whole roof would need replacing in the near future. Little by little, in very subtle ways, the house was transforming effortlessly for them, as if it had mysterious means all of its own. Will would think that Molly had done things, and Molly would think that Will had done things. But what was really going on behind the scenes was the awakening of the magic that this cottage had access to. Behind the scenes were a wonderful team that Molly was yet to meet. All the work she had done as a clairvoyant and tarot reader had been in preparation for what she was about to experience.
The shrill whistle of the boiling kettle brought her awareness back from another daydream. Making tea and some sandwiches, she loaded up a tray and took it out into the garden where Will was still working. He was grateful for the break. The weather was getting hotter as the long summer days approached. There was a hint of sadness in Will also as he realised that he was to fly to Australia soon. But this reminded them both to enjoy each day together more and more. Sitting in the shade of a Japanese Maple, now covered with new growth in shades of bright green and pink, they enjoyed each others company and lunch. Molly glanced around the garden, surprised at just how much Will had achieved that morning. Will sat back, taking in with pleasure what he had achieved and was amazed at what he has been able to do in such a short time, “I can’t believe just how easy it is to work in this garden, it almost feels like I have someone working with me. I have uncovered the remnants of old roses, forget-me-nots, alyssums, violets, lavenders, rosemary, mountain daisies, iris’s, clematis, clivia’s and others I am yet to name… I love being out here, I feel inspired and ideas come to so easily, and I must get on with preparing for this job next week. Time to clean up.” Molly gave him a hand to put the tools back in the barn, and they walked back into the coolness of the house and the work that was waiting for them both.
Molly paused at the bottom of the stairs. Each time she went up into The Attic, she felt a shift within her, each visit it became stronger and stronger. It was so easy for her to write up there, the inspiration flowed and the hours passed quickly. This day her desire to have more communication with Grace distracted her slightly before she began writing again.
“I know you are here, Grace. What do I need to do to improve our communication?” Molly asked out aloud.
She watched with amusement as the quill pen rose up and wrote two words…
Hmm, meditation, that was something Molly had not done for a long while. Before meeting Will she had also studied Mirimiri (Maori healing), yoga, and meditation. She followed a simple meditation technique of focussing on her breathing, of feeling the breath coming in and out of her body. At times it was better to count the breaths 1-10 over and over if she felt her mind wandering too much. Over the years, this simple routine had allowed her mind to settle and perceive information that came to her from what she originally thought to be her imagination. But now she was beginning to wonder if it was more than that? Mediation had helped her as she learnt to use the Tarot cards and then automatic writing, all becoming ‘tools of the trade’ as a clairvoyant, guiding her to the assistance requested through her readings. She decided to make this the first thing to do when coming up here each morning. Best time to start is now! Closing her eyes and focussing on her breathing, she was surprised at how quickly she felt herself drifting, light, weightless, relaxed, and at ease. And then she heard quiet voices. Concentrating on these, wanting to hear what they were saying, she caught snippets of words. The more she relaxed, the more she was able to hear… “can she hear us? Can she see us? Can we visit her yet? Grace, can we come and play now?” “Soon, soon…let her become accustomed to this… just a little at a time…”
Molly was intrigued by the voices, but someone had decided that was enough for now, and the quill pen rolled to the floor, the sharp sound breaking the spell of the meditation. Molly laughed, picked up the pen, and reached for her laptop, placing it on the desk. Her thoughts came back to Grace, and she began to type….
I love coming up here to write, and I can feel you close by guiding me. In the past was it you that has helped me when things have been tough, when I had prayed for help?
She found the answers flowed easily through her fingers, the replies came immediately from Grace. Even the font changed automatically as she typed this dialogue with what she thought was her new friend.
Yes Molly, and there is so much more to this room, as you are beginning to understand. Meditation will improve our communication, help prepare you for what is unfolding.
Wow, this is awesome Grace. Will you keep writing back to me?
Can we create a book together?
That is my intention!
Molly jumped up excitedly and danced around the room. “I love working in The Attic” she yelled at the top of her voice.
“The Attic indeed, I like it!” Grace said to herself, as Molly had already left the room. She ran down the stairs, along the hall and into the lounge room where Will was working. “I love you, I love you, I love you! And I love this house!” she exclaimed joyfully, twirling like a ballerina before collapsing into Will’s lap, kissing his face all over, wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him tight.
“There is one thing we need to discuss, something we have been a little distracted from by the move of house….,” said Will with a serious look on his face. He was playing with her as usual, but the matter was of great importance. “My job.”
“Oh yes!” Molly replied excitedly.
“Let me help you with dinner and we can discuss it some more,” he said taking her by the hand, and leading her down the hall to the kitchen. He put on some music and pulled her close to him and together they danced their way around the kitchen, kissing, laughing and enjoying this wonderful house they could now call Home. Will had been employed under a contract for the past few years having built up a good reputation for his work as a graphic design artist, and also as a fine illustration artist. He was wanting to focus his time on the fine arts and as an illustrator for more books, including Molly’s. He had recently been consigned by a publishing company in Wellington, having illustrated his first children’s book for them, and they were wanting more. Now that the couple had settled into their new home, he knew it was time to make the final decision and have one last business trip to sign off his contracts in person overseas. This decision felt good for both of them
Molly wanted to share some ideas of her own. “Will, I have been thinking about that manuscript of Grace’s…..it would make a great novel. What do you think?”
“Honey, that’s an awesome idea! Maybe I can design the cover for you? How much are you willing to pay? I don’t come cheap!”
“I don’t do cheap Will Ferguson! I have never, ever, done cheap!” Molly laughed, pulling him close and kissing him. Oh how she loved to kiss him…
“Shall we continue making dinner, or shall I clear the table for another purpose…” Will suggested, holding her close, pressing his eager body into hers.
“Hmm….well….maybe dinner first….or maybe not…” Molly replied between kisses, now more than a little distracted from the dinner preparations. Will proved his ability to multitask, as he pushed aside the ingredients for dinner and lifted Molly up onto the table, meanwhile not missing a moment of kissing her…
That first initial day of separation was always difficult for both of them. A little more-so for Molly as Will had his work to focus on. This was the first time she would be alone in the house. Not that she was scared of being on her own, more so curious as to what may develop with Grace.
To break up the drive back from the airport, she stopped at her favourite cafe for some comfort food and a hug from friends to help that feeling of physical separation dissipate. She and Will had an uncanny relationship and once over the ‘missingness’ of the first day, they still felt very close, despite the physical distance between them. Video chats and texting helped, but it was more than that, there was a sense of a continual connection, beyond the physical. ‘Soul Stuff’ Will called it. Bursting into tears as Maggie brought Molly’s cup of coffee over to the table, it was too soon to even think about Will. Maggie looked at her, gave her a squeeze and said, “Hmmm…must be Day 1?” to which Molly nodded and sobbed. “Chocolate Brownie or Cinnamon Swirl?” Molly just looked at her through sad, tearful eyes and without saying another word Maggie got her a slice of Chocolate Brownie. When her emotions had settled and having found the bottom of her coffee cup, Molly knew it was time to go home. The rest of the drive seemed to take forever, noticing every bend, tree, signpost. However when driving down the side of the house, it did not feel as lonely as when Will had last gone overseas, and they were living in the little cottage at Paraparaumu.
There it was again! She was sure she had caught a glimpse of Grace in the window, or was she being hopeful? Opening the back door, she decided to go straight upstairs and start writing, it always helped to keep her mind busy on Day 1. She put the kettle on to make a pot of tea and wandered through the house, shaking off the emptiness she was anticipating. To her surprise, the empty feeling was not there. Molly now had a moment to take in what she and Will had achieved since moving into the house. Each room had developed its own character. The living room, big enough to provide space for Will’s drawing board, easel and desk without cramping the lounge area, was bathed in morning sunlight. A Piwakawaka danced on the windowsill, reminding her that she was not alone at all. The whistling kettle brought her back to the kitchen. With a full teapot, two cups and saucers on a tray, she made her way up the stairs to what she affectionately now called The Attic.
The last of the morning sun caught the top of the desk, lighting up the honey coloured kauri timber with a warm welcoming glow. Placing the tray on the old sea chest, she eased her body into one of the armchairs and sighed. “Grace?” she asked out aloud. “Grace, are you here?” The warm air suddenly blew through The Attic window and the velvet drapes which hung either side of it ruffled in the breeze. She took the timing of this as a ‘yes’.
“Tea Grace? I brought an extra cup for you”. The breeze picked up a page of writing paper off the desk and it floated gently to the floor by Molly’s feet.
“Okay, okay! I know….Write!” she laughed.
Into the night, Molly wrote to Grace, page after page after page. She had found that the laptop sat perfectly on top of the cedar writing slope, making the angle and height just right for her to sit comfortably in the captain’s chair. She had developed a technique where by meditating before she began her work, she was able to receive information back from Grace through her writing. Some called it automatic writing. Many years ago Molly had found an exercise in a creative writing book, where it suggested to allow half an hour to write whatever comes into your mind, all the silly thoughts that one may pass off as junk begin to form a more philosophical conversation and the wisdom of your higher self comes through the writing. Molly loved this kind of writing and had numerous journals written in this way, which had formed the first book she had already published. The name she had been given for this invisible wise being, her guardian angel, had been Grace! Surprising herself, the realisation of this sent goosebumps down her arms. Could there possibly be any connection?
“So you’ve finally Remembered?!” Grace laughed at her, making her first strong audible communication.
“Grace?” Molly called out surprised. “Oh my god, it is you! How can this be? How can you be both, or the same? It is you that I knew as a child! It is you that has helped with my readings! How can this be? Oh, now I don’t know which way is up or down,” Molly’s words came tumbling out like rapid fire, completely rattled by this realisation. Unable to contain her excitement and not holding back, she danced around the room. “Come on Grace, you can show yourself now, I would so love to see you.”
“A little bit at a time Honey, makes the delicious moments last longer and the anticipation of what might be next tantalising, don’t you think?” Grace coaxed her.
Yes this was the sense of humour Molly remembered from the her previous journal writings.
“You have desired a physical place just as you used to imagine, of what as a child was called your Cubby House. Well, this room is just another aspect of that. A manifestation of thought or strong desire maybe? Imagination is so much more than you have thought! Yes, there is my mysterious past connected with this house, the Captain and I were ‘real’, and now we exist in the Spirit Realm which is just as real. There is Magic here in The Attic, it is an access into the Spirit Realm, or rather merely a part of it. This realm is known here as the World Between Worlds. There is much for you to learn yet, and we shall make the most of the uninterrupted time whilst Will is away. I love him dearly, but he does distract you sometimes!”
“Will! Oh shit, oops, sorry Grace, I beg your pardon….what is the time? Oh, I hope I haven’t missed him on Skype. Please excuse me.” Molly turned on her laptop, opened the Skype App and typed in her password, hoping that she has not missed the time they had planned to chat. Will’s icon lit up and she heard that familiar tune of a Skype call. As Molly chatted excitedly to Will, Grace watched on briefly over her shoulder, fascinated by this form of communication, and then respecting their privacy, she vanished, leaving them alone.
It was well after midnight by the time Molly crawled into bed. Feeling hyped from the chat with Will but exhausted from the long day, she tossed and turned restlessly, unable to get comfortable, the bed felt too big and empty on her own. She decided to go upstairs to The Attic, feeling less alone up there. Taking with her a pillow and the duvet, she snuggled up on the daybed, the growing slither of moonlight shining through the window.
“Good night Grace,” she whispered. Grace watched her as she fell asleep, then sat in the captain’s chair and pulled out the journal from the drawer in the desk and stroked the cover affectionately. She sighed with contentment. It felt so good to have some presence in the Physical World again, but she must not let Molly know too much too soon. There were limitations of Grace’s Spiritual Agreement, her Sacred Contract. She was only permitted to visit in this room, that Molly now called The Attic, together with the others who will accompany her, when Molly’s consciousness was ready to receive this type of information. Meditation and creative visualisation had provided one way for her to access this space between Heaven and Earth, in this World Between Worlds. Molly had only ever thought of this as her place of Imagination where she could connect with her creativity. She saw it as her own safe place where she could explore uninhibited, free of anyone else’s criticism or judgement, and tap into the limitless potential of these ‘unseen’ worlds so many people call Imagination, creative visions or daydreams. But she was about to discover there was so much more to it than that. If only she knew the truth, of what lies beyond that which is perceived as the Physical World, or Reality…