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The Eagle Has Landed By Charles A. Filius
Copyright © 2003, Charles A. Filius
“Have faith. For faith will
carry you above the clouds of doubt and despair
Perception is everything. If you don’t believe me just let your eyes dance over the mind-numbing artwork of E. C. Escher. Sometimes it’s enough to drive you to drink. Is the glass half empty or half full? Or, in my case, it’s simply not what I want because I am craving a cheeseburger. Again, it’s all a matter of perception. For example: there is an enormous difference between ‘waking up on your own’ and ‘being awakened’. Light sleepers have it easy. It doesn’t take much to get them to a waking state. A simple nudge will suffice. A slight shake of the shoulder or even a polite clearing of the throat will do the trick. Then there are people like me: the ones who can sleep through a hurricane while a marching band storms through the room blasting any given high school ‘fight song’ and not even flinch. To get me out of my hibernation I have to be bombarded with noise. Not once or twice but a multitude of times. It’s the same process used to rouse me spiritually as well. Lately I’ve had my guides working overtime with chisels and mallets on my skull. They’ve been pounding day in and day out until I finally ‘heard’ them. They’re either a relentless and devoted crew or they get paid a lot for overtime.
At the time of this writing I have been attending Psychic and Mediumship Development classes at The Astrological Institute of Integrated Studies in Port Charlotte, Florida, for nearly seven months. Under the watchful eye and skilled loving hands of Sandy Anastasi, John Maerz and Ed Hicks, I have found—along with my fellow ‘classmates of life’—that my own abilities run deeper than I have ever imagined. More importantly, I’ve discovered the normalcy in what I do. We, as a whole, are psychic. It’s a matter of tapping into it or, more accurately, allowing yourself to tap into it and accepting it as a part of who and why you are. It’s also great fun at parties and it keeps you entertained when the cable is out (think of it as ‘shadow puppets’ but without the physical exertion).
On the Saturday evening after our first class of the month it is practically customary for one of the instructors, Ed, to host a MESSAGES session. This is a gallery reading for a group of people like you would see George Anderson, John Edward or Tim Braun conduct. The intimate group varies in size and can last anywhere from two to three hours (depending on the chattiness of the Spirits who join us for the evening’s brouhaha). The one thing that is totally predictable with these sessions is that Ed always picks up on my Spirit Guides. It’s practically a tradition worthy of depiction by Norman Rockwell. While others are being comforted by their great Uncle Hector and Cousin Penelope I’m getting descriptions of my spiritual entourage. Don’t get me wrong: I have found a lot of comfort and validation in these readings. First and foremost, these readings have proven to me that I am not schizophrenic. Being bombarded by a deluge of various energies and personalities is overwhelming when you’re not accustomed to the idea. I have to admit that I was questioning my own sanity in the beginning. My first contact with my spirit guides was the equivalent of walking into a bar where everybody really does know your name.
I did some snooping on the Internet later that night and, low and behold, I found the building. It's at a place called “Michael’s Vision” which was inspired by the Archangel Michael. I have a special connection to Michael (which is another story unto itself) so it all fell into place. I downloaded the photo from the website and showed it to Ed the next morning. The first words out of his mouth were, “Are you going to buy that place?” I didn’t tell him but the property was indeed up for sale. Location! Location! Location!
When I left Port Charlotte I drove to the spiritual community of Cassadaga, Florida. I walked into one of the many new age stores located there and, instead of hearing the usual "Zamfir: Master of the Pan Flute" new age music blaring through the muffled PA system, my ears were greeted by the all too familiar "Linus and Lucy" theme. Perfect for a cartoonist, don't you think? Again, a slight nudge from 'the gang' that I was on the right path. When I returned to the west coast I found a catalog in my mailbox. This catalog happened to be devoted entirely to--say it with me--Sedona. As I leafed through this unsolicited publication I noticed that there is a rock formation in Sedona called "Snoopy Rock". Could it be any more blatant?
Just prior to my trip to Sedona one of my guides, Oliver—who is usually a man of few words—chimed in with one lone simple sentence that ended up dominating my every thought for over a week: “Eagles. Go with the eagles.”
I asked, “What does THAT mean?”
He replied dryly, “You’ll find out.” I couldn’t see him, of course, but I just knew he was smirking. Well, yee-haw, Katie bar the door we’re gonna have some fun now (said in my best trailer trash accent)!
* * *
I arrived in Sedona late on a hot Tuesday night in July with nothing more than bewildered anticipation and a bottle of sun block. I didn’t know what to expect and, frankly, I liked that idea. I’ve always hated planning and structure. I find the surrealistically whimsical approach to be best for me. Reality just bogs me down. Why balance my checkbook when I can create? Of course I was keeping an eye peeled for ANY references to eagles. I figured I would either find some earth shattering revelation connected to eagles or I would discover that Oliver has one perverse sense of humor. At this point in time both seemed utterly plausible.
Wednesday morning was spent at The Angel Valley Ranch in Sedona, which is ‘home’ to the creator of “Michael’s Vision” described earlier. My connection to the Archangel Michael brought me to this place. I’ve found myself quietly surrounded by the watchful protection of Michael for quite some time now and I’m always excited when other connections to him present themselves. Since Angel Valley was dropped in my lap and who am I to say ‘no’? I was raised better than that and my Momma didn’t raise no dummies. My grandparent’s helped. My guide on the ranch was the man who put the whole thing together and his name is—as hard as this may be to believe—‘Michael’. Well, go figure. Michael, a slender man matching my 6’1” stature, has a very calming presence about him. It’s as if he is ‘tranquility’ personified. He didn’t even seem upset that I was nearly 30 minutes late. My tardiness was a result of my inability to find my own ass without a detailed map. I could get lost in a phone booth. Upon my arrival, and after introductions were made, we began walking. I assumed he knew where we were going so I blindly followed…the whole time mulling over whether I should leave a trail of bread crumbs.
I said to him, “I don’t recall the last time I ‘heard’ this much quiet.”
“You don’t have that in California,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact that was based, I later found out, on personal experience.
“No, there isn’t,” I replied. “My idea of a quiet evening is when I don’t have to listen to my neighbor’s car alarm.”
He smiled. “And yet you’re still there.” He led us to the left toward a small bridge. “You’re the one in control, Charles.”
“I like California,” I said, “but I feel I need a change.”
Again, he said matter-of-factly, “You’re the one in charge.” Then, out of the blue, Michael asked me, “What do you want, Charles?”
Silly mortal that I am, I replied, “I want to find out what’s next in my spiritual growth.”
Michael was kind enough to not laugh outwardly at me. We walked to a circle of rocks beneath a tree near the bridge and a stream. The tree seemed to envelope us within its limbs, like a mother protecting her young, as we headed for a small circle of rocks near its trunk. He asked me to sit on a rock that ‘spoke’ to me. After pushing images of Jim Henson’s ‘Fraggle Rock’ out of my mind I did so and he sat on my right at a 90 degree angle. We sat for about an hour-and-a-half ‘just talking’. It was better than any therapy that I’ve ever had (and trust me that’s been a LOT—not wanting to brag). After a while he asked me again, “What do you want?” Well he made me really think this time. After a pause I was surprised to find myself answering, “I want to feel.” Michael smiled and said, “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
I turned myself off physically years ago. I became an extremely cerebral being at a very young age. For example, I don’t FEEL that I’m in love. I KNOW I am in love. I don’t FEEL tired. I KNOW I’m tired. Get it? There is a simple variation of the descriptions—replacing one word for another—but it is a massive difference. At the risk of repeating myself: perception is everything. It’s also one of the few things that I simply do not think about. Physical emotions get in the way. Thoughts are far more logical. Not to mention far more satisfying.
Michael and I discussed the importance of the opening of the charkas, especially the heart. This is, of course, one of the two that I feel I have the most difficulties. I’ve noticed that even during chakra meditations my mind will wander off during the exercise covering the heart chakra: My conscious and subconscious working together to avoid that little demon. Nothing like teamwork, eh? When it’s time to work on the heart chakra my mind goes off into an infomercial for the ‘Amazing Space-Age Insta-Juicer 2000 Buttering Wand and Candle Maker’ (or something equally intriguing) then returns in time for the throat chakra exercise.
“What excites you?” he asked. “What do you really love to do?”
“Obviously, I like drawing…” I began to say.
“Not ‘like’. Listen to me: ‘what do you really love to do?’ See what I’m saying?” I nodded as he began telling me his own personal story. How he realized that he didn’t really have anything in his life that ‘excited’ him. Once he realized this he ventured out on a cross-country trek. With what little he owned in his car and seven dollars in his pocket he drove from California to Pennsylvania. When he arrived in The Keystone State he had thirty-two dollars in his pocket…and a lot more faith. One tale in particular stuck with me: as he was driving through one state he noticed he was not only nearly out of gas but in the middle of nowhere, population zero. He kept saying to himself, ‘I need money. I need money. Where am I going to get money?’ Finally, he said he heard a ‘chorus of angels’ say to him, “You dummy! You don’t need money! What you need is gas!”
Again, it’s all a matter of perception.
He realized ‘they’ were right. Once he made peace with that idea he came upon a farm house just off the road. He said he considered it a miracle. He pulled into the road leading to the home and prayed for ‘the kindness of strangers’. The farmer had seen him turn onto his property and was waiting for him. Michael explained he was almost out of gas and definitely out of money and hoped that the man could spare him a couple gallons so he could continue his journey. Without hesitation the man began filling the fuel tank from his own supply. After a few minutes of friendly banter the man asked Michael, “What does your gauge say now?” The tank was full. The man said, “Now that didn’t take long, did it?”
“Like I told you, Charles, you’re the one in charge,” Michael said. “There comes a time in your life when you need to change patterns. You must want this. I faced that moment myself and I just told the universe ‘I’m done!’ and I meant it. When you accept that you are at that place in your life the Universe will work with you and in the time frame you desire. Do you want to change in a week? A month? A year? It’s up to you.” He smiled knowingly. “Finding what it is that truly excites you is part of that change. Find it and do it. Stop saying what you think people want you to say and say what you feel.”
There’s that infernal “F” word again.
And then that bastard had the nerve to ask just one more time: “What do you want?” I briefly considered knocking him in the head with a Twinkie and running for my car in a flurry of dust and gravel. However, my disdain for physical effort combined with my overall almost religious devotion to mass produced cream-filled pastry prevented me from taking that blasphemous route. So I had no option but to tell the truth. I said, “I want to own what I feel.”
There. I said it. Happy now?
Michael sent me out on my own to ‘just go where your excitement takes you.’ No expectations, no rules to go by. Just do…whatever. As I started off on my odd quest Michael asked, “What brought you here?” Without thinking I replied, “I’m here on a wing and a prayer.” He smiled and said, “That’s all you really need.”
After climbing to the top of a hill I was most pleased to see that I could appreciate the beauty all around me before dying of a massive combination heat stroke and coronary. I decided to do some breathing exercises and meditations. I then announced to the Universe that upon completion of this exercise I would have a better insight to this eagle ‘dilemma’. Once the exercises had concluded I opened my eyes and what did I see but an AIRBORNE EXPRESS van driving through the valley below. As is my custom in these situations, I simply burst out laughing.
The screaming that came with the discovery of this mistake later in the day has been rumored to set off seismographs in a 550 mile radius. Tides altered. Animals ran from the forest in a panic. Natives in the mountains made up songs about it. A group of tourists were lost in an avalanche in the Grand Canyon. However, they were all insurance reps so no one really noticed they were missing.
Was this a sign that I would NOT be moving to Sedona? Was it a sign to say that I was there to grow spiritually and not focus on my artwork? Perhaps it was meant as more proof that I need to change everything. Or it could be just my own obliviousness to the reality that I’ve created around me. A friend of mine told me ‘Sometimes we have to throw out what we think we know in order to really learn something.’ You know what I learned? I learned that I was pissed! How’s that for a life lesson?
I tried meditating Wednesday night but had no success. My mind was everywhere…except where it should have been. My first full day in Sedona had proven to be, for the most part, a major disaster. I was supposed to have lunch with a woman named Heather Vincent that afternoon. She is also an artist and a psychic. She also happens to be the niece of the very first psychic I ever met nearly 10 years ago. After talking with Donna Sims for a decade she NEVER had the urge to speak of Heather until I had made my plans to visit Sedona. The fact that I had an interest in psychic phenomenon coupled with my being an artist was never enough for Donna to drag Heather into the conversation. I couldn't just shrug it off as a mere coincidence. However, as things were going from bad to worse, Heather and I did not get together as I had hoped. I spent more time than originally planned at the ranch so, by the time I called her Wednesday evening, she seemed ‘disinterested’. She said she would call me back later in the evening and we’d finalize plans for the next afternoon. The phone did not ring again the rest of the night.
The next morning I was livid. Tossing aside the wealth of self reflection I had attained at the Ranch on Wednesday I was considering this trip to be nothing short of a farce. I was disgusted beyond belief. My life’s work was ruined. Heather, who I thought would be a great connection for me, was a no-show. I was spending money that I did not have. I exclaimed, “SCREW IT” (in far more descriptive terms than I care to post here) and decided right then and there that I was going home. If I could not get my ticket changed at no charge I was going to just live at the airport until Saturday and sulk. I instantly planned a lavish pity party with myself as the guest of honor. I’d had it. I was walking away and not looking back. The instant I made that “decision” the telephone rang. It was Heather apologizing for not getting back to me the night before and asking if we could meet on Friday instead of Thursday. I took a deep breath, kicked myself for doubting and enthusiastically agreed. I hung up the phone and just muttered, “Well, I guess you told me, huh?”
I couldn’t see my guides but I just knew there were high-fives going around the group at that very moment.
I walked down the street to a local Denny’s for lunch. It would be rather absurd to walk down the street to a non-local Denny’s wouldn’t it? “I’m going to Albuquerque for a bite. See you on Thursday!” It just doesn’t work. I was served by a lovely young lady named Brooke who was in possession of one of the most radiant smiles I’ve ever seen. I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich with apple sauce instead of fries. Brooke asked, “Are you on that Atkins Diet?” I looked at her, shaking my head ‘no’, totally bewildered how anyone can accuse me of being on any kind of diet. She said, “A lot of people come in here that are on the Atkins Diet and they will get applesauce instead of fries. Then they will eat the burger but not the bread, ya know?”
I smiled and said, “I’m diabetic.”
She smiled and said, “Well that’s a better excuse than being on Atkins! That’s just wrong!” I had to admit I agreed with her. Then she asked, “Are you traveling?”
“You have no idea,” I said dryly.
“Where are you headed?”
“Here.” I paused for a moment. “Sedona. Not Denny’s.”
She laughed and asked, “Where are you from?”
Chatty little thing, isn’t she? I told her I was currently hailing from southern California where everything should be stamped AS SEEN ON TV.
“That’s funny. Most people leave here to visit there instead of the other way around. What brought you here?”
My first instinct was to say “an airplane” but opted against it. I thought, “oh what the hell?” and I said, “You could say I’m here on a spiritual pilgrimage. No real rhyme or reason. I’m just traveling on a wing and a prayer.”
She said, “Oh, really?”
Then I decided to ‘go for broke’. I said, “I’ve discovered I have this wacky ability to talk to the dead.” I paused. “They talk to me, I talk to them, fun is had by all.” I looked at her fully expecting her to scream “HERETIC” at the top of her lungs while dousing me in holy water. I had a straw poised for action just in case. I was parched.
She flashed that smile and said, “Oh, I understand. My whole family is like that.”
I was dumbfounded. I’ve had several friends who have packed up their old kit bag and got out of Dodge when they found out I was getting into mediumship. I’ve even had one in particular tell me that she was afraid I was losing my mind. She went on to tell me she would do ‘anything’ within her power to get me help if it got ‘out of hand’. And here was a total stranger telling me it was as normal as ordering apple sauce in place of fries. Sometimes you just have to change your diet. Replacing fries with applesauce doesn’t take away from the meal as a whole but merely changes it. The nutrition is there—even enhanced—and it just takes some time to stop craving the fries. You don’t have to stop eating all together. Just alter your diet. As Michael told me: “I’m done!” I never knew wisdom could be found in a Denny’s. Gum under the tables, sure, but not insight.
Despite that rush of self validation I was still no closer to solving this mysterious eagle reference and I was, of course, getting frustrated. Have you picked up on the fact that I’m not patient? Rumor has it that patience is a virtue. I’m OK with that providing that it’s fast. Needless to say I keep my guides quite busy slapping me right between the eyes every few minutes. I like to think of myself as their personal workout regime. I gave the menu at Denny’s a quick once-over to make sure they didn’t offer a ‘batter dipped eagle’ luncheon special. Obviously I wasn’t supposed to get all my answers at Denny’s. It’s a good thing that I didn’t because there’s a Denny’s just around the corner from where I live. I would have been ticked having spent all that time and money traveling to Sedona for a blue plate special of wisdom when I could have just walked down the block. I will admit that the timing of Heather’s call had convinced me that I truly was supposed to be in Sedona. Am I easy or what?
Later that evening I hopped in my rental and headed out to a grocery store. I was craving cantaloupe. Hey, it happens. I like healthy food if it tastes good! On a ‘whim’ I felt that I had to listen to a CD entitled “Live at Blues Alley” by Eva Cassidy who was a extraordinary talent from the Washington, DC, area. Eva, who left us far too soon, had a voice that can literally bring me to my knees. I’m not much of a fan of music in general; I listen to very little. But Eva was the first artist who ‘touched’ me just with her voice. Without thinking I slid the silver disk into the CD player and found myself chuckling over the the first track: “Cheek to Cheek”. I’m on a spiritual pilgrimage and I’m hearing the voice of an angel singing “Heaven…I’m in heaven…” emitting from the stereo in my rented Ford Ranger. The second track, entitled “Stormy Monday”, began playing and I didn’t think anything about it. Suddenly, as I’m sitting at a traffic light, ONE lyric jumps out at me: “The eagle will fly on Friday.” I just stared at the console and at that moment I ‘knew’ Heather would have the key to this grating eagle reference. Was this divine intervention or just my desire to dump the responsibility in Heather’s lap? Either works for me.
“People get ready You
don't need no baggage To
hear the diesel hummin'
The instant the second line was sung a train whizzed by along the track directly across the road blowing its whistle. I started to laugh and just muttered, "Smart ass" to the cosmos. Oh, yea, I'm gonna pay for that one...
While in this grocery store I found a section displaying a wide selection of religious candles. Saint Francis and Mother Teresa stuffed right in there between Spam and Mrs. Butterworth. How handy. Save your soul, grab a bite, and you’re on your way. You have to love the convenience of it all. And, low and behold, amidst these candles encased in a large drinking glass, was one for my pal, the Archangel Michael. It was only 99 cents. I figured Mikey was worth a buck so I put it in my basket next to my cantaloupe and Caesar salad… the whole time praying I would not somehow get them confused at the peak of my feeding frenzy.
Thursday night I went through my meditations and this time had success. In addition to calling in my usual entourage, I asked to speak directly with the Archangel Michael. Why not, right? You never know until you try. Within moments I felt a very strong energy around me; it was a force unlike any I have experienced so far. It was very strong, authoritative even. Not threatening by any means but I was given a feeling of a higher presence that had a definite purpose. Most importantly it was absolutely not Robert, my Master Guide (or any other member of my spiritual entourage for that matter). There was definitely a new kid on the block. I was lead to my laptop. I sat down at the keyboard and this is the conversation that flowed from my fingertips:
"What message do you have for me?"
“I come in love, understanding, benevolence, trust and truth. Be steadfast in your faith, Charles. It will not let you down. On a wing and a prayer you are perched and shall not fall. It is God’s love that never falters. It is your love that He seeks. You have offered it to Him unconditionally and he is stronger for it. Yes, God ‘needs’ your Love. You were made in God’s own image--does He not feel as you? Do you not need the love of others? Of yourself? God is no different. You have not quite grasped the concept of ‘Your God Self’. God IS within you and you are within God. Between heaven and earth is the almighty love of God and Man, permanently binding them together as one. Do not ignore the greatness within you for God has never ignored it. Accept it, Charles! Own it! Be the man that you are, not the man you THINK you are. Your reality is within your hands. Allow it to breathe and thrive. Like a butterfly let it soar swiftly, elegantly and with beauty. Open your palm, Charles, and release the butterfly from its cocoon. You are protected, you are growing. THAT is what you FEEL, Charles. What you perceive as doubt is CHANGE. You do not yet fully understand what is happening so you ‘naturally’ fear. You must admonish the fear; beseech it to leave you and, in its place, you will find God’s unconditional love. Within that love you will find AND understand the truth. The truth being YOU; not an illusion but the real thing.”
"I worry about taking ‘pride’ in my abilities."
“It is not a sin to be proud. Are you using your abilities for personal gain? Are you using them to mislead others?”
"If I do this for a living I will be gaining from it."
“But is that the MAIN reason?”
"No."
“There, my friend, is your answer.”
"It’s hard to let go of insecurities."
“Insecurities are not truths. The truth is within the light. If you walk into a darkened room you are unsure of what lies ahead, correct? Once you turn the light on you know where to step. The trick is finding the light switch. YOU have found that switch, Charles. It’s in the same place each time you step into the room. Why do you ignore its very existence yet dwell on the existence of non-truths? Old habits die hard BUT they are replaced by the reality of God within you, your life, your surroundings…need I go on? God IS everywhere, Charles. Even in that darkened room you enter with such trepidation. Reach inside, turn on the light, walk where you know you should tread. The furniture may be moved but the path will always be seen. Have faith. As the staff in your hand steadies you over the rough terrain, so shall your faith. The journey will grow within you but shall always be clearly marked. OPEN YOUR EYES! Trust in yourself and KNOW God will never falter or leave your side. Be one with God as you go with God. In peace, in strife, God is there.”
And then ‘it’ was gone. I asked a couple of times just who I was talking to and I was answered by silence. I know, in my heart, it was the Archangel Michael. I asked to speak with him therefore my faith tells me that is exactly what happened. Once I added Michael to my collection of guides I felt compelled to ask the hotel management for a special ‘group rate’ for my room.
Simply put: Friday could not get here fast enough.
* * *
I drove into Sedona along AZ 89A taking in the breathtaking scenery. I stopped frequently at various ‘scenic overlooks’ along the route. As I was pulling out of the first tourist trap overlook I found myself behind a green SUV (like Elvis they are everywhere!). Painted on the back of that vehicle was a dreamcatcher with a soaring eagle in the middle of it. When I pulled out into the regular flow of traffic I saw, cross the pavement before me, the shadow of an eagle flying overhead. Slap me in the face again, why don’cha?
Later in the conversation she said, “You know, just before I read your email about the eagles, I was having these random thoughts about eagles. Weird.” She paused for a moment as a flash of realization swept across her face. “Have you been to the Chapel of the Holy Cross?”
“Never heard of it,” I said.
She went on to explain that it was a chapel built into the rocks above Sedona designed by an apprentice of Frank Lloyd Wright. She said, “There is a rock formation up there that looks exactly like a giant eagle head. You know how you can look at some formations and say, ‘oh yea that could be an eagle or it could be a Buick’? That’s not the case with this one. It really looks like an eagle!” She leaned back and said matter-of-factly, “You have to go there.” So, of course, since I have no will power of my own I caved and readily agreed to visit the Chapel of the Holy Cross.
Along the road leading out of Sedona, and toward the Chapel of the Holy Cross, there is an art gallery that has a massive sculpture of an eagle erected outside of the building. Like Elvis, the eagles were everywhere! I made a left onto Chapel Road, parked the gray Ranger, and proceeded to hike up the path to the church overlooking the panoramic scenery below. Along the pathway up to the church there is a statue depicting St. Francis of Assisi, another saint that has been connected with me by other mediums. Yet another indication I was, indeed, on the ‘right path’. But what did it have to be so steep? I think all paths should have moving sidewalks and/or escalators. But that’s just me. Once I reached the top (still bewildered why I had not melted like the Wicked Witch of the West) I found myself being physically turned counter-clockwise until I was facing a stone eagle head which overlooked the back of the chapel. I was immediately bombarded by a massive surge of energy then led to a wall, turned around, and ‘pushed’ gently down to a sitting position. Then I heard “Shhhhhhh.” I tried to ‘listen’ when a gaggle of tourists approached chattering about the heat, their bunions, the hilarity of their recently purchased I’M WITH STUPID t-shirts and other such topics of disinterest. I got up and walked inside the sanctuary seating myself in the last of the seven benches masquerading as pews. Of course the benches were out of the sunlight so I was happy. I would have sat on a pile of rattle snakes as long as they weren’t in the heat. I lived in Washington, DC, for ten years so I’m immune to the bite of poisonous snakes.
I replied, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Again, but this time far more insistent, “What are you going to write?”
I thought for a moment. I had no idea there would be a pop quiz on this trip. I was the one always asking questions and now the tables were turned. I was paying the price for the manifestation of the Hooter’s truck. God knows what kind of debt I would have incurred if the Hooter’s girls had been in the truck! “I guess something that will help others learn…” I uttered without an ounce of conviction.
“RIGHT!” I ‘heard’… or dare I say ‘felt’? “In order to teach you must learn more, open your mind to more possibilities.” Then ‘he’ went on to give me a ‘polite’ lecture on Christianity. I have this habit of butchering the religion at every turn. I never liked it much and I tend to rag on it a lot. “There is nothing wrong with Christianity,” I was told. “The problem lies within the malpractioners of it. Remember that.” Of course, I had to admit he was right. “In order to teach you must free your mind of unnecessary baggage and weight for that will only limit you. Prejudice and ignorance have no place in the classroom. Do not forget ‘life’ is a classroom.”
I asked, “OK. Who ARE you?” Here I am being handed profound information and I'm wondering who's talking to me. Am I a butthead or what?
“I am known as The One Who Soars with Eagles.”
“But what is your name?” Refer to the 'butthead' remark above.
“You would not be able to pronounce it,” he replied. He was not being condescending by any means. He was very matter-of-fact and I believed him. After a slight pause he then said simply, “Go in peace.”
Just as I was reeling from that experience I suddenly ‘knew’ the title of my book: ‘On a Wing and a Prayer’. Well, go figure. Once that dawned on me the church PA began blaring another hymn in the Heaven’s Top 40: “The Old Rugged Cross”. This hymn “coincidentally” was my favorite when I was a kid. I admit that was pretty cool although I was more impressed with the Hooter’s truck. Once again please reference the earlier 'butthead' statement.
I left Sedona not as a new man but as an awakened man. As I pulled out of the chapel I saw an eagle flying high in the south western sky, just swooping down, left and right, going with the wind. It looked random but yet, at the same time, meticulous, refined and with self-assured purpose. I pulled off the road, put the truck in park, and just watched this majestic creature dancing in the sky. Many people sped by me, either immune or indifferent to their surroundings, as I absorbed every movement of this seemingly private viewing. “Thank you,” I whispered to no one in particular as I leaned on the steering wheel and just gazed, smiling, ever upward.
“Remember, as a child, you had to crane your neck
to look up to the adults, the sky, the trees, the table top. –Robert
*"People Get Ready" by Curtis Mayfield
Copyright © 2003, Charles A. Filius
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I met Heather
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