On February 27, 2023 a vacant lot was listed for sale in Crossville, Tennessee. I did not find the listing until March 10th. I had a really bad bout of bronchitis and a sinus headache, so when I found the listing I jumped at it. I called the listing agent and asked all the standard questions. The listing agent’s husband drove over to the lot and made a YouTube video of the lot. It was perfect!

4.94 acres – 2 acres cleared, the rest were forest but not thick

Rectangular – not some weird narrow stretch, nor a weird shape resembling a strangled hernia, nor a decent shape marred by a one car width entrance to the lot from a cul de sac, and no shared driveway

LEVEL- not a steep slope either rising up from a street nor with a sharp drop off from a road

NOT a rolling landscape which would require a three story building built precariously sitting on a cliff

SAFE neighborhood – no drive by shootings, nor murders, nor auto thefts, break ins, nor reports of vandalism, etc

NOT in a flood zone. FEMA map showed no chance of flooding

NO creek nor pond nor lake nearby that might harbor standing water on the property during a storm

UNRESTRICTED LOT – ZONED Residential and Commercial and Agricultural. I could have built anything I wanted ANYTHING!

Not in a tornado belt nor hurricane path

Electricity and water hookups available at the street

Located 11 minute drive from the Lake Tansi Resort Restaurant and Bar!

Located 10 minute drive from the Cumberland County Public Library!

The seller had already turned down an offer so I made an offer of cash – full price BUT I wanted PROOF that the property could be connected to

HIGH SPEED FIBER INTERNET with a LANDLINE!

AND AND AND That the soil test – aka septic field soil test would reveal that a 3 bedroom 2 bath house could be built on the land!

The realtor’s husband had worked for Spectrum and he saw a telephone poll up the road with a spectrum sign. BUT, after the sales contract was signed by myself and the seller, I called EVERY SINGLE Internet and landline provider in the county and NOT ONE, save Earthlink satellite, would provide service and NONE would provide a landline – NOT ONE!

I called the County Planner, the local water company – yes I could get water for another $1,050 in construction costs, but no one knew about Internet.

I finally got a woman in the Spectrum Construction Department and she explained it.

The line ended more than 3,500 feet up the road. Yes the neighbor could get Spectrum and yes the realtor spoke with the neighbor across the street who had Frontier, BUT EVEN if I had money to set on fire to heat my house, to run the line to the property, she said it was

OUT OF FOOTPRINT – the signal was NOT going to reach the lot UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES and Frontier told me the same! Frontier had run a line from the end of the cul de sac and it ended 3,500 or more from the lot!

30 hours after signing a sales contract, I signed a cancelation notice.

Last night I had new Facebook friends who live in Crossville write to me and say:

I BET THERE’S NO TRASH SERVICE EITHER!

OMG I forgot about GARBAGE – In San Benito, Texas we had a DUMPSTER at the end of the long driveway. Here I have a large container on wheels. But I have always had trash pick up!

HAD I bought the lot and suffered with spotty satellite Internet, I would have been stuck with finding a way to store my garbage and then DRIVING it to a dump every few days! I have 3 cats and 3 dogs. NO WAY would I be able to stomach doing that!

And then a few hours after I canceled the news about bank failures dominated the headlines. I need to sit tight and get my house ready to sell. I will NOT try to buy anything until my house is under contract and the buyer has completed the process and we are just waiting for the title company to close. I hate doing it that way. I’ll need a contingency that I can find another home hoping the buyer will accept the terms of the contract.

BUYER BEWARE!

Auggie and his sister Belbel and their best friend and mentor, Little Man, the aging orange tabby, Tiggy, the ever rambunctious and mischievous slate grey Vladimir Greystone,who loves to go for walkies when I can get him to hold still to hook a leash onto his cat harness, and the ever complaining and ravenous giant tabby, Higgston and I are in need of a new home.

We want a home where, when I open the garage door to try to get to the store, I don’t see this!

I will miss walking in the remote isolated cul de sac where we experienced the Great American Bunny Hop Hop Escape!

And I will miss the spectacular Ruby Dome glacier mountain.

Spring Creek often has sunrises and sunsets to rival Sedona or anywhere else on the earth, BUT there’s nothing for me to do here. I can’t hunt, nor fish, nor hike, and I want to be near water – lots of water!

At first, I did NOT want to EVER live in another HOA (Home Owners Association). I don’t use the facilities here except they do plow the roads. HOWEVER, I may have found paradise after all.

I found this video and fell in love – not with the driver, I have no idea what he might be like except he’s funny.

I found a perfect house on a half acre which is a bit too small but the trade off is I can take the dogs on the hiking trails on leashes once I get back into shape that is.

HOWEVER, I need to get my house on the market first and that’s going to be STRESSFUL – VERY VERY PTSD Flashback inducing, nightmare replaying next few weeks – with luck weeks and not months. Unless I can find a vacant lot and find a builder, I need to stay here until the house is under contract.

I know I won’t have enough time to learn how to fly a drone much less a FPV INDOOR one, but how cool would it be to do a video like this of my house ONCE assuming I could move out and show it empty!

The best indoor drone for real estate agents

Sigh, so I found a place I want to live and my friend, Brent, is going to get rid of all the carpet and lay vinyl tile, and with luck and using every manifestation tool and method, I hope to spend next winter in a one-story ranch on a large lot with colorful trees, and lakes within walking distance. Restaurants to explore within a two hour drive, and caves, and museums, and folk festivals and FUDGE SHOPS!

My house in Spring Creek, Nevada has breathtaking views of the Ruby Mountains. From the back deck or up in the loft I can see the full 180 degrees of the Ruby Dome and the Ruby Mountain range on either side of the glacier. From the front, I can see 180 degrees of the Elko mountain range and from my bedroom window I see the hills to the south. When the neighbors from the pit of hell, who lived directly across the street, moved in November 2020, and David moved in, the cul de sac suddenly became a peaceful and glorious road to walk and just relish.

In July 2021, Brian and his dog, Little Man, were attacked by pit bulls and I had them move in since I had the house to myself and the Notorious Doc hated my house and wanted to stay in Vegas. With Harry dead, I thought I’d stay. I hate the idea of moving. Then in December 2022, Brian moved in with a “friend” in Elko and the house was suddenly empty. Little Man had bonded with Auggie and Belbel so he’s here with the cats. Having never had children and no family except for my elderly cousin back East, I suddenly experienced empty nest syndrome. The endless storms drove a knife through my soul. I couldn’t get out of my driveway.

And then it really hit me.

There’s nothing to do here unless you can hike, which I can’t. Fish, which I wouldn’t mind, except I can’t stand and fishing requires some standing, hunt which I’ve never done, gamble which I can’t afford, drink which I’ve never done, and party which for someone like me is equivalent to spending 1,000 years in a torture pit in Hell.

Prior to moving to Spring Creek, I used to get in my car and drive and find a Korean or Thai or Greek or Vietnamese or Indian Tandoor or Chinese dim sum restaurant and chow down. I’d go looking for a museum or archaeological site or old lighthouse to explore. I’d search maps for lakes and drive for a couple of hours just to walk around and chat with the waterfowl. Flower gardens and arboretums were a must!

Elko County has none of those things. One museum, yes, and there’s some ghost towns but nothing to write home about. And home is what I suddenly realized I did not have.

So, I started searching all of Idaho, Oregon, Utah, Colorado, northern New Mexico, and finally Tennessee for a place to live where I would feel ALIVE again. Some place with four seasons, breathtaking fall foliage, flower gardens, lakes, creek, historical museums and old stately homes from the 1700s and 1800s. And RESTAURANTS. With less snow, and a lower cost of living. And bearable summers. I can’t tolerate the heat.

Criteria:

LOW Crime – This is almost impossible in 2023. The United States has very few safe communities. Property crime is bad everywhere and violent crime plagues even rural small towns. I would no sooner find a house, then pull up the crime map to find it was in an area with a lot of murders, drive by shootings, break ins, car thefts, muggings, and drug use. One lady told me that I’d have to find a place to live and ADAPT and GET USED to crime. I did not respond, but what I said in my head rhymes with Duck U. I am NOT going to GET USED to hearing sirens and finding out my neighbor just got shot and the guy down the road had his car stolen. THAT is why I refused to move to Las Vegas in 2016.

NO TORNADOES – I found that Tennessee had the lowest property taxes and the best fall foliage and a lot of lakes and historical sites and RESTAURANTS, BUT parts are in the tornado belt. A LOT.

NO HURRICANES – When I was in first grade, Westfield got a direct hit from Hurricane Esther. I remember trees being ripped up and roofs being blown off. Our tree got ripped right out of the ground and the root ball was pulled out. In San Benito, Texas, we no sooner had moved in than Hurricane Emily struck. We could not afford Windstorm insurance and I was terrified we’d lose the roof. The sound of a hurricane is terrifying. The area flooded, but the roof held. Then in 2008, Hurricane Dolly struck and we lost a roof tile. The flooding was horrific – our house stayed dry but the culverts flooded and we lost water and electricity. Texas State Technical College in Harlingen where I worked took a direct hit – some day I’ll tell that story, I predicted it would and everyone blew me off. Over $450,000 worth of damage, Oh, well.

NOT IN A FLOOD PLAIN – You’d think developers would NOT build near a creek or river or on a wetlands or swamp BUT they couldn’t care less. Realtor.com now lets you click on the map for a property and click on FLOOD or FIRE. I currently live in an area that gets wildfires. They’re frightening and the smoke chokes the area for weeks. My house is in a good area, others are not. And there’s no risk where I am of flooding BUT the properties I found that looked FANTASTIC invariably got BLUED out when I clicked on FLOOD.

For example:

This lot is in my price range and it’s 0.72 acres (2913.737 square meters). I’d prefer an acre but this would be okay. And some of you might say “WELL, only the back yard will flood”. That’s assuming you trust a FEMA map. I do not. And if you’ve ever had to live for a month with receding waters and ponding and mosquitos, then you can tell me to grin and bear it.

NOT ON A SLOPE:

A slope does not have the “footprint” for a ranch and two car garage and a SLOPE is LOUSY Feng shui! Alex Stark details every tiny detail for choosing a building site. This is just a small extract from a very long long article.

Moni Castaneda Feng Shui for Us – Nine Steps to Feng Shui® warns about houses with a kitchen design where the SINK is opposite the STOVE. The house where the late Harry Leo Duran preferred to live and use as an office rather than my house had such a kitchen. It causes fights and we fought a lot in that kitchen.

This is a kitchen I found in a house I cannot afford. But the design layout is one I want. And it’s just gorgeous to look at.

The sink is under a window and the stove is to the side. I personally do NOT like stainless steel, but in this kitchen I must admit it’s rather striking. The center workspace isn’t so large that you can navigate – mine is huge. The clean white cabinets and steel hardware make a nice touch. But wait until you see the next photos. Of course, it’s one of those $800,000 properties.

So, at least I found a kitchen design to covet minus the stainless steel and granite. Granite, I found is a pain to clean.

Maryville, Tennessee meets ALL my criteria EXCEPT I cannot find an affordable existing home, nor new construction, and so far, I cannot find a lot that isn’t on a slope and doesn’t flood!

It’s rated as SAFE. There are no recorded tornadoes, low property taxes compared to most places – Crossville is lower – within driving distance of Knoxville and Gatlinburg and the ATLANTIC OCEAN! Drawback – it gets muggy.

NOT that I would live in the center of town but using the Blount County Public Library as and anchor:

 508 North Cusick Street, Maryville, TN 37804 

TO: 17 miles (24 minutes)

Pero’s of Rocky Hill, 7706 S Northshore Dr, Knoxville, TN 37919

I have NOT had veal parmigiana in 23 years. My parents, grandparents, my Aunt Dot, and I ate it at least twice a month back when I was growing up. It was my dad’d favorite dish next to Chicken Chow Mein.

Spanakopita! Pero’s has my favorite puff pastry stuffed with feta!

It was in the early 70s when I had a gyro for the first time. I was instantly addicted. I never EVER tried drugs – not even marijuana. I can’t tolerate prescription drugs – get all the side effects. BUT FOOD for me either triggers a craving for a lifetime or not. GYROS are a craving and I haven’t been able to get the real thing since I left El Paso. Every Wednesday before I taught a night class, I stopped in a Greek restaurant in what was basically a slum, and gorged myself. Same in Atlantic City. There was a narrow, dark, seedy bar on the boardwalk about as far from the casinos as the boardwalk went and they had the BEST Greek food you could hope to find. I do NOT know to this day, how I didn’t end up getting mugged. The clientele were scary looking men and the owner would see me come in and he’d have a hot plate in front of me almost before I could sit down. I never saw a single tourist in there. I never saw a single middle class person in there and rarely another woman. BEST food though if you don”t mind eating with people who look like they wanted to cut your throat!

TO: 1.6 miles (6 minutes)

Lemon Grass, 912 W Lamar Alexander Pkwy, Maryville, TN 3780

TO: 19.8 miles (26 minutes)

Q Korean Steakhouse, 8851 Town and Country Cir, Knoxville, TN 37923

The list goes on. And downtown Gatinburg is only 38.8 miles (65 minutes) to the Fudge Shoppe of the Smokies! Years ago when I lived in Smithville, New Jersey the Notorious Doc was asked how he didn’t worry about his wife living 50 miles south – wasn’t he worried I’d cheat on him? HELL NO! He told everyone that if he wanted to know where I was, he could call up the YE OLD FUDGE SHOP in the Smithville Historical Village or get a phone book and search for fudge shops on the boardwalk and he’d find me. Adultery was not something he feared. He was more worried I’d over dose on chocolate.

I talked to a realtor yesterday who is going to search for a lot. She works with a building contractor who has ALREADY built a barndominium. I had a consultation with American Bardnominiums and I got a quote from Hansen for a house like this one.

I have a quote from Hansen for a house and a workshop where I could have a FitMax IPOOL, craft room, and exercise room.

I just have to manifest a home where I can live with three dogs and three cats and relish every waking minute! Considering the Notorious Doc did not live to murder me. I think I can pull this off!

Yesterday (Saturday, February 18, 2022), the two-time international best selling author, business owner, and editor, Mary Turner Thomson called me on Zoom. My manuscript about the late Harry Leo Duran, MD, PHD, MPH needs a re-write. Strip out all the academic writing and just tell MY story. Start with my last conversation which I had in the manuscript

At 6:19 p.m., Sunday, November 7, 2021, my husband called me gasping for breath.  He wanted to remind me that he had an appointment at 8:30 in the morning to get an infusion of monoclonal antibodies.  I told him that he was dying.  He argued while gasping that he was not.  I told him it was too late to get the infusion that it only worked if the patient got the treatment within the first 72 hours of showing symptoms.  He didn’t speak.

What he did manage to get out was a question.  “Did you ever get to watch Foundation?” 

NO!, I replied. 

“You never gave me the password”.  Harry controlled the Apple TV subscription and he had forgotten the password and then blamed me for not being able to get onto the platform. We had had a huge fight about it, and I gave up.  “If you are alive in the tomorrow, and you won’t be.  BUT if you are in the morning, but again you won’t be, IF you survive, but you won’t, and you give me the password, I’ll watch the series.”  Very weak voice “Oh, okay well I just want to make sure you know I’m going to the clinic at 8:30”.  I snorted.  “Yes, I wrote it down.  I have to go do the dishes.”  VERY, VERY weak voice.  “Okay” and we hung up.

Begin with the last phone call. Then flash back to how we met and how I lived my life over the many years believing all the things he told me so much so that I married in him February 1997. How I STILL believed him despite the violent rage attacks during which he destroyed many of my prized possessions and during the many attacks where he beat me so bad I didn’t want to live anymore.

WHY did I believe him? Why couldn’t I escape?

How did I NOT know what he was doing in Las Vegas? How did I NOT know about the things he did BEFORE I met him when I was 20 and he had not yet turned 18?

How did my mind not snap when I unlocked his phone and got into his email and text messages and Facebook accounts and into his Messenger exchanges?

How did he set it up so I’d want to kill myself when he died? Why didn’t I?

How did I survive for the weeks following his death after discovering that he had spent ALL of our entire savings of over a $500,000, and that’s underestimating what the account should have had in it?

How did I survive when I discovered that over $40,000 in gold coins, silver coins, and platinum had been stolen? What was it like to have to talk to a homicide detective, file claims with home owner’s insurance agents, try to file a police report when the Las Vegas Metro wasn’t answering because Vegas stayed in lockdown longer than we did here up in Elko County nine hours north?

To this day, I STILL do not have a police report for the $30,000 plus worth of items stolen from the house Harry used as an office which was burglarized a week after the realtor posted the PENDING sign and the house went under contract.

What was it like having to appear on Zoom with a lawyer for AAA home owners insurance for a deposition answering the most intrusive questions you can imagine about my marriage to a psychotic physician who I had not seen for three years and yet with whom I was still married and still under the belief that he was going to retire and move back up to Spring Creek?!!!!

I stripped myself out of the manuscript and focused on Harry and his career and his college and graduate studies. I detailed HIS interests in sufism and Tibetan Buddhism then gnosticism then converting back to his family’s Roman Catholicism switching to the Maronites then to the Eastern Orthodox! I railed about how he then threw it all away, stripped naked and stared in sex clubs and performed vile acts of a form of kink most people cannot imagine exists.

The NEW manuscript will have the reader see through my eyes, feel through my skin, and hear through my ears.

I will tell my story with scenes from our friendship over the years and then our marriage. The abuse will be in there but it will not get HAIRY – pun intended UNTIL you read this:

Harry Leo Duran was found buck naked on his $3,000 Lovesac couch which had to get tossed because it was too filthy to move, on November 8, 2021. I had frantically placed calls to the apartment complex office, the medical office where he never showed up, and to the clinic where he worked. I also called a friend of his. His body was eventually found by the Las Vegas Metro with his poor $2,500 pure bred English bulldog guarding the corpse of the man who let the poor dog wallow in his own poop and urine most of the time.

I got to the apartment on November 10 with a man who basically saved my life after I had saved his. A man the late Notorious Doc wanted to murder! That man gathered up all of the electronic devices and searched for post it notes, and notepads which might contain passwords. At 6:35 p.m., on November 16, 2021, Brian clapped his hands in front of my face and screamed!

YOU WERE HIS WIFE! UNLOCK THE PHONE!

It’s a shamanic technique. I had no idea Brian knew it nor do I think he did. It worked. I went into that zone psychics dip into and I typed the first thing that popped into my head. The phone unlocked.

Device after device was handed to me and all but one unlocked. With his IPHONE that I knew he used for work in my hand and the Samsung Galaxy that I knew he used as a backup, I scrolled up through Messages to call the physicians I knew he was scheduled to see that week.

The rest of the story is what I found on the phone. Videos, photos, text exchanges that no porn star has ever uttered or at least not the Stormy Daniels type of porn star would. We brought home boxes and bags and totes filled with unopened mail and piles of bills. I had to call all of the credit card companies to let them know he was dead. What I discovered was so sickening, I didn’t sleep nor eat for three weeks basically living on Carnation Instant Breakfast and what food I forced myself to try to eat and not throw up.

I exchanged texts with several of Harry’s kink partners. I met a stripper who works as a waitress who talked to me for an hour about how physicians, dentists, pharmacists, lawyers, and politicians fly into Vegas to engage in the highest forms of perversion I even found out how much some of it costs!

Mary told me to not tell HARRY’s story but to tell how I tracked down the artists Harry threw thousands and thousands and THOUSANDS of dollars at for their artwork. I need to tell how I scrolled up through text messages spanning the last 4 years of his life detailing his attitudes and beliefs and how those same people in the texts claimed they barely knew him when I was looking right at the most inappropriate (and that’s putting it mildly) “conversations” and use of most not politically correct language one could hope to read!

The book will describe how I had to send for as many years as a credit card company could send of paper statements so I could track down receipts for all of the stolen items. And how I found out where our savings went!

The book needs to sell, and to do that, I need to target the reader who loves a good detective story with a lot of salacious and scary material. Harry practiced black magick! Not everyone got to see him blowing cigar smoke and pouring whiskey over a large cauldron containing herbs and items I never did want to ask about, including a rusted railroad stake he found on the tracks in Newark and a human skull the idiot purchased when he was a neurosurgery resident. I never “saw” any of his spells work. In fact, I used to just shrug off his interests in such things as part of his need to feel special.

The new manuscript will take the reader through MY memories, one of which was when Harry took me to a bodega in El Paso and the owner wanted to cut me which pissed Harry off to the extreme because he had wanted to be asked to become an initiate.

The new manuscript will prove that a woman’s spirit cannot be broken – WOUNDED – but not broken if and ONLY if she has the WILL to survive at all costs. You must never sever the tether between you and the Divine! For the unseen world is very real and when you sink as far as I did, they will raise you back up to the surface. You must never give up. You must never give into the fear. It will grip you so tight you will not be able to breathe. The demonic – dark entities that hate humans, will grab on and drag you to hell. I blog about Hell and I’ve done a series of videos about Hell. The advantage I had was I had meditated on the hell realms and was able to seek the Sunlight and the flowers and the angelic beings who can guide you out of the darkest nightmare you might find yourself in.

With a lot of work, the finished manuscript which Mary will edit once it is done, will be in a guide to how to survive Hell. For a marriage or any relationship with a malignant and violent abusive narcissist is the closest thing to Hell you will ever get to experience save prison life or a battlefield.

Wish me luck. Revisiting all these memories will be a nightmare, but worth it in the end.

Rider Waite Major Arcana

Dusty White said in class the other day that the Major Arcana do not lend themselves to telling a story. That said, let’s look again.

Long ago and far far away in another realm, a Fool merrily skips towards the edge of a cliff. A rose is lightly held in one hand and a medicine pouch dangles from a wand which rests on his shoulder. The Fool was apprenticed to an alchemist at the age of three assigned to sweep the floors and stay out of sight. As he grew older, he had more and more chores to perform. One day the alchemist decided the Fool was ready to learn how to transmute base metals and extract energy from plants. After several years of study, the Alchemist had grown too old to continue teaching and he sent the now thirty year old out to seek his fortune.

On his own for the first time in his life, the Fool set forth. Along the way a stray dog decided to follow him and the two let the wind guide them without any particular destination in mind. Gazing up into the heavens, the Fool is almost in a state of ecstasy. With one more step he falls off the cliff and transforms into the Magician!

Saved from death by all the magic accumulated since he was a toddler, the Fool steps into the role of the Magician – the ultimate alchemist who has mastered infinity. He raises his power wand towards the heavens as he points downward toward the earth. His altar chalice and solid gold paten carved with a pentacle await the spells the Magician is conjuring using his athame and staff. His white ceremonial robe is knotted by a belt containing the spells which will emanate out from his dantien upwards through the chakras to be voiced using the power of the Logos. His red cape was dyed using the red berries of the sacred mistletoe.

The first invocation the Magician performs is to summon the High Priestess as his shakti without whom nothing can be created. Their mystical tantric union transforms them into an Empress and and and Emperor – the Queen and King of Heaven! The ultimate mother she reigns over all of earth but also of heaven. She is Abundance itself. She is the healing nature of the forests and oceans and fruits, vegetables, flowers, and herbs. Her consort, the Emperor is raw power, cardinal male energy, and discernment. Together they create the Hierophant an intermediary or high priest whose edicts dictate all the spiritual and religious activities throughout time and space.

Out of the Hierophant’s intense love for his parents emerges the Lovers or the first humans. A seraphim blesses the intense attraction between the two. They are bound together as twin flames for all eternity separating and parting and then seeking each other in each lifetime, sometimes successfully, and at others fated to live apart.

The union of the Lovers results in a conqueror who rides forth in his Chariot pulled by two sphinxes. His Chariot stops when the conqueror has met up with the embodiment and personification of Strength with her lion. The goddess Durga so humbles the Conqueror he gives up his crown and takes up the life of a Hermit wandering the world with his lantern seeking illumination within his own soul. Nearing the end of his life, the Hermit’s chakras spin in unison with such brilliance the Hermit transforms into the Wheel of Fortune itself.

The Kalachakra Wheel of Time spins on its own protected by the guardians of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. After it has spun 108 times, Justice emerges sitting on the stone throne between the pillars symbolizing the magical number 11. She raises up a sword forged by the churning of the oceans out of which emerged karma and samsara. In her other hand she holds the scales of Anubis who has entrusted her in how to weigh a soul while still in the realm of the living.

Justice lowers her sword and passes judgement on the Hanged Man who is suspended in Time itself awaiting his Fate. Death then appears riding rigid upon the Pale Horse prophesied by the ancient one. Life for the Hanged Man has been decided. He must give up the ghost of this life to be reincarnated into a new one for he failed to break free from the cycle of rebirth.

While on the other side the Fool’s soul meets Temperance and learns how to balance good and evil, temptation and prudence, desire and restraint, doing and non-doing. Failing in this lesson, the Fool encounters the Devil himself. The Devil teaches the Fool about free Will and soul contracts and how the Fool was both blessed and cursed at the time of his birth. The Devil then shows the Fool the Fool’s Natal Chart and how the energies were concentrated in one or two houses. The Stars and the Planets, clashed with the Cardinal, Fixed, and Mutable energies of each of the cards The Fool has been dealt. Being the Devil he offers the Fool a Deal. Shuffle the cards again, he said. I will send you back. The Fool agreed.

Only a Fool would trust the Devil for the Fool sprang back to life only to find himself in mid air falling once again off the Burning Tower of Babble and never ending change and chaos. As the Fool lays dying once again, he looks up at the Star infusing his battered soul with hope and a possible brilliant future. He sees the Moon who shines down into his heart a feeling of peace. The Moon teaches him how to accept each transition with grace and ease and to know that this too shall pass. Night fades into Day and the Sun pierces the Dark Night of the Soul of the Fool breaking free of all the illusions of immortality. The Fool is now healed. He rises NAKED and stands up to gaze upward at Judgement blaring his trumpet from the sky. The Fool is now illuminated. His higher self is awake and ready to face The World this time to have a successful journey through the sands of samsara!

This story appeared to have arisen from decades of esoteric studies. I know I typed it. But I’m not sure if the words came from me or were they put into my head? Will I ever know? Should I care? I think the story is really cool. It is copyrighted so don’t you dare try to steal it. The Gods will find you and the Spirits will haunt you for all eternity. But use it. Meditate on it. And have fun reading it.

PLEASE COMMENT and SUBSCRIBE