The loft renovation progressed quickly. Already Will had repaired the external cladding, having fitted the hand-made diamond shaped lead-light window created by their friend Christina, and he had found a pair of French doors at the local secondhand building supplier. He was able to fit them with the minimal amount of alteration, retaining the original wooden doors as external shutters. He could not go any further until the delivery of wool insulation had arrived, and then he could clad the inside of the room with recycled Rimu (Native New Zealand timber) lining boards. He saw this as an opportunity and thought it would be good for them both to have a break, to go away for a couple of days on a short road trip. The idea was met by Molly with welcomed enthusiasm and they decided to pack some bags that night and leave early the next day. Molly was keen to have a break from writing, having hit a ‘writers block’, and was unsure of how to or what to do with Grace’s Journal. Later that afternoon she decided to go to The Attic in the hope of being able to communicate with Grace.
Sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, focussing on her breathing she relaxed her body and eased into meditation. From there she could sense Grace sitting in the other chair.
“Planning a trip away? What a brilliant idea!” Grace greeted her.
“How do you know?” Molly asked, surprised that Grace was aware of this.
“Are you forgetting that I am a Spirit Person? There is much for you to remember!” she laughed at Molly.
“Molly, Honey, don’t get tangled up in the ‘how to’s’ of writing this book. Even though I had wished for it to be published, my journal is more to inspire you, not for you to rewrite as a non-fiction. It is not just my story, it is ours, combined. We have many books to write together. Now, go and have a wonderful carefree time with Will, and trust that the inspiration will come to you. Please remember – meditate daily”.
Molly opened her eyes to find she was in the room alone. The idea popped into her head to buy a new journal and write to Grace whilst they were away. Returning to the kitchen, she found Will preparing dinner. He had already poured two glasses of wine, one of which was half empty. Molly sat up on the kitchen table, watching him cook dinner, sipping wine and feeling more at ease with her writing. A road trip was just what they needed!
“Where shall we go?” she asked Will.
“We’ll flip the coin, let Destiny decide.”
That night they packed their bags and went to bed early, intending to get up around 5am.
The next day greeted them with a spectacular sunrise. The black silhouette of the trees provided a stunning contrast for the vibrant reds and oranges of the morning sun which highlighted the sky behind them. Sitting in the car before they drove off, Molly flipped ‘Destiny’, their name for the old New Zealand 20c coin they kept in the console of the car for such occasions.It turned up ‘tails’ deciding for them that they would drive south and then east in the direction of Lake Taupo. Molly loved this area in the central North Island. The Lake is shaped like a heart and she felt it was quite appropriate, being located in the heart of the North Island. Taking their time, stopping at some of the quaint villages along the way for coffee and lunch, they arrived in the late afternoon. Having checked into the motel, they went for a walk into town along the lakefront to find a restaurant for dinner. Molly stopped by the bookstore to buy a journal. She found one covered in the design of an old-fashioned map. Tomorrow morning she would start writing to Grace. After dinner, whilst walking back to the motel by the waterfront, the lake showed them a side they had never seen before, her wild side. The wind created waves that were breaking just offshore, putting on a spectacular show with their white crests catching the reflection from the amber coloured street lights which gave them a surreal glow. Back at the motel, they settled in for the night, filled the spa bath and enjoyed relaxing in the hot mineral waters, making it easy for them to slip into bed, and a deep sleep. However, when 3am came, mischief began in the room, the tiny fairy-like creatures playfully tugged at Molly, arousing her from a deep sleep. When she first opened her eyes, she caught glimpses of tiny bright lights dancing around the room. Slightly confused, unsure if she was awake or dreaming, she attempted to return to sleep, unsuccessfully. Getting out of bed quietly, she put the kettle on. Will stirred in his sleep reaching out for her in the bed. Finding an empty space, he half sat up looking around sleepily for Molly.
“Oh let me guess – 3am?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Umm…nah, actually it’s 3.33am now!” Molly groaned a fake disapproval, as she was actually excited about writing in her new journal. Having made tea and some Vegemite on toast, she crawled back into bed beside Will. Now wide awake too, he sat up flicking through the channels on the TV with the volume down, searching for something to help him get back to sleep. Molly sat with her new journal. Nothing like writing on the first page of a new journal! The blank page. She stroked the cover before opening it, leaving the first page empty, turned to the next page and wrote…
Dear Grace,
Already I miss visiting you in The Attic! Today we arrived in Lake Taupo, although I am sure that through your Spiritual Telescope you are able to see where we are and what we are doing. Never mind, I still want to write to you.
Closing my eyes now, I can feel myself sitting on the bottom step of the stairs which lead up to The Attic. I have an irresistible urge to run up the stairs and burst through the door hoping to see you.
As Molly closed her eyes again, she imagined doing this, concentrating on the details of the staircase and opening the door. To her surprise, she was able to feel herself walking into The Attic. She sat down in the arm chair by the fire and looked across to see Grace sitting in the other chair!
“Is that really you?” Molly whispered, not believing what she was seeing.“Whom else do you think it would be?” Grace laughed at her. “This is just the beginning remember. Oh I can’t wait for you to meet some of our visitors!” she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together excitedly.
There was a knock at the door, Molly looked at Grace with surprise and for some indication of what was happening, not ever having experienced The Attic in this way before. Grace got up to answer the door, and in walked a beautiful teenage girl, maybe the age of 16 or 17 years. She was neatly dressed in a tight fitting pale blue cashmere jersey, stylish denim jeans and white canvas sand shoes. Her long blonde hair was neatly braided down her back and she held herself perfectly. Actually everything about her seemed perfect. She looked like she had just walked off a photo shoot.
‘Why is she here?’ Molly thought. Watching on, Grace welcomed their visitor in and suggested for the girl to take a seat at the kitchen table over by the dresser. The young woman walked gracefully across the room to the table, and held herself in a very composed way. Seated at the table, nervously she looked down at her well manicured hands, which were clenched tightly, her knuckles white. Grace looked tenderly at her until she was able to look up and meet her gaze. It was then the young woman burst into tears. Inconsolably she cried and sobbed. Grace took both her hands and let her cry uninterrupted, until there are no more tears. Her emotions settled, sobs turned to hiccups, she was able to take a deep breath and began to share her story.
“Judgement, criticism, I am so over it! Everybody expecting me to be a certain way, demanding me to be this way, be that way, and do everything so perfectly. My life felt like it was spinning out of control. Rather, I felt that I had lost control, like I had no say in it, that it was being controlled by everyone else, but not by me. ‘Eat this, drink that, wear this, do that, listen to this, read that, have your hair like this, walk like that, talk like this, sing like that, play this…’ All I wanted was to write and play my own music and sing, but the focus had become about me as a product. This was not what I wanted!” she leapt to her feet, shouting at Grace, and then instantly apologised for raising her voice and meekly sat down again staring at her feet, ashamed of her outburst. After a moment young woman looked up at them and said, “See? I am not even allowed to be angry! What has happened to me? How did I end up there, in a world where I had no say? It felt like no one could hear me or rather no one wanted to listen to me. It was not about my songwriting or my voice any more. I had become a money making product! And all I wanted to do was write songs, create music and sing. I didn’t want any of this other stuff, but I didn’t want to upset anyone else, I wanted everyone to be happy, as I was when I played music as a child. My music was everything to me, then they took it away, changed it all, and stopped listening to me. I felt like I had lost my voice, that it had become someone else’s and I could feel my life spiralling downwards, into a very, very dark place.”
She paused silently, and then continued on, “It felt seductive. At first I resisted the pull of this, and then it enticed me, beckoned me and it felt like the only escape. The only way out, where I actually had a choice, this felt like a choice, it became my secret place, an escape from what my life had become, because of what other people demanded from me. This darkness felt comforting. I would lie in bed unable to sleep at night, allowing The Darkness to embrace me. It felt soothing, like a void where Time stood still, and nothing else mattered. There was no expectation of me here in The Darkness.
I realised I had wanted to keep everybody else happy, because that is what they used to tell me when I was a little girl – that my music and my singing made them all happy. But like this huge monster, it started consuming my life, and everyone around me wanting more and more. I just wanted to blank out, there seemed to be no escape, other than The Darkness. No time on my own anymore, no time to play, daydream, no time to pretend to be a singer…” her voiced tried off and then her face lit up with a realisation!
“Oh My God! I get it, I used to dream of being a singer, of being on the stage, of travelling. But I never imagined it to be like this! I had lost my dream, my focus, of how good I felt when I was singing and creating music. I just wanted to keep everyone else happy and I forgot about myself. And then the Darkness kept beckoning me, I could feel the seductive pull of the quietness there. And then everything felt like it was imploding, I felt myself falling into that all consuming spiral of darkness. But within that place of darkness I began see a tiny point of light, and I kept reaching for it, but it appeared to be on the other side of The Darkness. And then one day, I gave up, I let go, I let go of everything, the ultimate surrender. The doctor had prescribed me medicine to help me sleep, and each night I was finding I needed more and more, until one night, out of frustration and desperation, I swallowed the whole bottle of pills. I felt myself slipping into the Darkness, so comfortable, so soothing, so peaceful…now I know that the light on the other side of The Darkness was my soul, calling me. Now I know why I did it, I had become so disconnected from my soul, I was lost.” The silence that followed these words was one of the deepest realisation. Molly felt her energy shift and she looked up at the young woman, listening intently. Her eyes sparkled, the smile on her face was uplifting, as she continued her story, “And now I realise that my soul never dies, because here I am!” she opened her arms wide.
“Now I can see the effects of me shutting off from everyone. If only I had spoken up for myself, just shared how I was feeling with someone. But I felt there was no one prepared to sit and listen to me, everyone was too busy. There was no one I trusted enough to confide in.”
She looked up at Grace with such depth and meaning in her brilliant blue-green eyes, which glowed like iridescent pools of tropical water. The moment took Molly’s breath away. The young woman’s energy was vibrantand she started to hum a song. It was not audible at first, Molly felt it more than she heard it. It was more like an energy from within, like a strong vibration, which resonated into a hum deep from within the girls throat. She closed her eyes and allowed the hum to grow, her body swayed to an imaginary tune which came from within. Her foot started to swing rhythmically as the energy of her humming began to grow and move through her body, bringing her to her feet in fluid, graceful movements, with such gentleness and ease. Like a light breeze shifting autumn leaves, or rippling through tall summer grasses in a field, or the gentle, rhythmic lapping of waves on a lake, she had become the essence of Nature. She had become sound, she had become music. Her humming intensified into verbalised sounds, otherworldly, like the voice of an angel. As she sang, she began dancing, Grace and Molly were spellbound, captivated by her energy. From within her chest there was a light that glowed, filling her being completely, resonating outwards. The vibrant, sparkling energy swirled higher and higher, filling the room with her Soul’s presence. Looking down at Molly and Grace, she whispered “Thank you!” And with a burst of intense light, she was gone.
Grace and Molly were left speechless, almost breathless, unable to move. The spell of this angel’s presence hung in the room, embracing them with immense love. Her gratitude was tangible, the love resonated through the sound of her voice which had filled the room, lingering like the fragrance of the blossoms she had left behind her. Molly closed her eyes, taking in the moment. this beautiful soul was truly beauty personified.
“Now can you begin to understand the magic that happens in this little room?” Grace asked quietly. Molly didn’t know what to say!
Then the energy in the room shifted and Molly sensed her body feeling heavier and heavier. Even her eyes felt heavy and her head began to nod sleepily. When her eyes opened again she found herself sitting on the bed in the motel, Will asleep next to her. The remote had slipped out of his hand and the TV still turned on with the volume muted. She smiled, amazed at the experience she has just had, and eager for more. Molly opened her journal and began to write what she has just witnessed whilst the memory was still vivid.
The Attic 