Previously: 

When we were invited to return to our original room, we were so excited about discussing what we had just experienced, one of our group ‘shushed’ us, reminding us we were just a little bit too loud and might be disturbing our hostess in her ability to focus on her instructions. 

As in the larger group, a few of us reacted differently than the others. We were like a microcosm of the larger group.   I was anxious to discuss this with Cordelia to see which way certain chords stirred her.

********

I couldn’t sit still after that. I had to get outside. And it was a beautiful day, perfect for a stroll. I went back to the cottage to leave my book and write a note, telling Cordelia I’d gone for a short walk. 

Out of habit, I looked at the watch on my right wrist. It was 10 in the morning in Vermont. Without troubling my head with math, I looked at the green clock on the cottage’s wall of pale yellow-designed wallpaper, 3 in the afternoon. Classes went ‘til 4. I had an hour to do some research. 

As I was about to leave, with my hand on the knob, I was surrounded, almost smothered with sadness. I knew what had to be done. I had to talk with them, to get their permission. Then, when Cordelia came back from her class, we could relieve them, finally, give them peace.

No, wait. It is only fair to Cordelia, to have her here when I do it. She should be coming soon. I decided to walk outside to see if anyone else was out there, to take up some of the time ‘til she got out of her classes.

A couple of ‘ladies in waiting’ had changed into jeans and tee shirts. I wondered if they’d preplanned their contrasting colors. Caren had a pink shirt and blue jeans and Karin, a blue sleeveless shirt and pink jeans. They were each sitting in, appropriately painted colored wooden lawn chairs.

The bright colors were a cheerful contrast to the monotonous gray of the overcast English sky. The colors seemed to raise the energies outside. Besides, it was away from the reminder of the sadness that gnawed away at the foundation of these cottages.

They appeared to be chatting in a casual manner, to kill time. When they noticed my approach, they signaled me to join them. I walked over to them, in my purple striped shirt accompanied by army green cargo pants. I chose the forest green chair for fun.

I took a deep breath, saying, “Have either of you or anyone you know sensed any heaviness of feeling in these cottages?” I made a sweeping gesture.

Caren sprang forward, her red hair swishing. “We thought it was our imagination. Oh, my gosh. Yes, we couldn’t put our finger on it, but there is such a strong atmosphere of, uh, what can I call it? Defeat, that’s it, defeat.”

We didn’t even have to turn in Karin’s direction and pause before she said, “I am relieved to hear both of you talk about this. Cyndy and I were so preoccupied with what could possibly be causing the sense of hopelessness, we had difficulty getting to sleep.”

I had no other choice but to tell them of the little building Cordelia had been drawn to. The original pain and tears welled up as I recounted our heart-wrenching discovery. The only sound that could be heard were some cute chickadees scavenging seeds in the carpet of green grass. 

They looked at each other as I explained how I was a spiritual dowser. “I’m going to check with all of the spirits, a little later, to avail them the opportunity to be freed. I have to get their permission first. We can never make choices for others. It is not our business. We must respect others at all times. I would not attempt to move them toward the light without their permission.”

“Please do something for them, if you can, please.” It was clear Caren had been deeply affected by their spirits.

“Yes, please do something. I’m afraid the feelings of defeat will sabotage Cyndy’s success.” 

The cadence of my words was a slow staccato. “Dark energy can enter us.” I wasn’t sure if I were intending to warn or comfort them. “I will, with all of your permissions, put a shield of protection on all levels for you.”

“What do you mean by a shield of protection on all levels?”

Karin didn’t even let Caren finish her question, because it was, naturally, hers too. “Yuh, what do you mean, on all levels? What levels? What’s on these levels?”

I did my best to explain. “ We’re talking about the levels where we are either healed or harmed. The most obvious, of course, is physical. The next, which slowly becomes known, is psychological, emotional or one’s perception of life.  The third, however, only certain people can relate to.

“It is the invisible. It’s similar to how the chords of the harp affect us. We don’t know. We don’t understand why it works or even how it works, but it works. This is the spiritual dimension we are delving into. All of it is cloaked in mystery.”

‘Wow, I’m speechless, which is odd for me. I’m usually a chatterbox.” Her hoop earrings made little tings as she slowly shook her head.

Caren was better able to express herself. “ I’ve never heard of harp therapy, seen it work, nor can I begin to understand how it works. I guess if you believe you can do good by this, then go ahead. We’ll have to go check that little building out.”

“Just be ready to experience strong emotions, as Cordelia and I did.”

Our interactions were interrupted by distracting, animated yakking pouring from the cottage where the classes took place. We hiked ourselves from our chairs, moseying toward our respective harp therapists.

“Hi.”

Cordelia shifted the hand carrying her harp. “Hi, ready to go rest and talk a while?”

“Definitely. We can put some coffee on and snack on the tea biscuits. I hope we’ll be okay having tea biscuits with coffee.”

As we entered the cottage, I got out two metal cans, yellow and blue. The scoop sunk in, stirring the wonderful aroma of coffee grounds, pouring out, enough to make a full pot. “I got information about how the sadness we felt permeates the other cottages.”

“I got information about the chicken we purchased and attempted to eat. Which do we want to discuss first?”

The coffee pot began to gurgle in the background.