FROM MY JOURNAL September 9, 2010
Before we could head out to our other place in northern Cal., we still had a drug meeting up in Topanga to facilitate. It was our first meeting. I was in hopes that it would start an anti-drug program in Topanga. After we lost Kyle to heroin, we thought that we might be able to help other Topangans who were dealing with family members that are struggling with drugs. I was still dazed and worried about what to say to the reporters and photographers from the Topanga Messenger, our local newspaper, and to the fifty people who showed up. We shared our painful stories, and many shared their experiences with their loved one's entanglement with various drugs. It was a weeknight, and I was exhausted from a full day of teaching. I kept thinking when is this meeting going to be over, so we can drive to our slice of heaven.
Finally, we were on the road driving the long, mind-numbing seven-hour drive to our new woodsy house. This time, because it was so late, we decided to only drive halfway that evening. Alan had already driven the first two hours. “Can you wipe the dog slop from your side of the window?” My husband grumbled. “I can barely see out the side mirror. I don’t understand why every time I slow down or stop, Topper stands up on your lap to look out as if he was the Captain of this ship. Can’t you hold him down?
Westies are always curious
Westies are always curious
Alan sounded a bit grumpy I was sure because of the meeting. “No, he’s just curious.” I spat on my long sleeve shirt and rubbed the nose snot off the window that our West Highland Terrier had left. Alan pulled over to a gas station and filled up with gas. Then the three of us did our business.
Once I slid into the car, I shifted all the levers on the seat so I could reach the pedals. Alan’s Ford Escape now seemed like a massive ship to me, especially since I was currently driving a Mini-Cooper. I was tired. Since the school budget was cut, some of my classes have over forty students, and our school had voted that we’d teach an additional course. I’m zapped even more these days, but I guess that’s what depression does. All I wanted was just to be closer to our destination before we check in to a hotel. A vision of an eagle came into my mind's eye, so I decided to try something which I had done a couple of times when I was a kid.
Alan’s eyes were already closed for a nap. “Tina, slow down! You’re driving too fast!” my husband barked.
“Don’t worry, I have a technique,” I said smoothly.
“What is it?”
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” A running joke we have between us.
Alan laughed, “Oh, in other words, it’s your witch stuff.” He sat up straight and looked at me. “Go ahead, tell me.”
Still, I was apprehensive about sharing.
“Remember, I’m now a believer in your Reiki Healing.” He tried to reassure me.
“Yea, only after you experienced how it could help you,” I teased. “Okay,” I paused, still unsure about sharing. “ I envision myself as a beautiful eagle with a pure white head and neck, a light brown body with the last two inches of my wing feathers also dipped in white, flying over the freeway. I feel like there’s an invisible veil over me, protecting our car from any radar detector. " I chuckled. "This so weird.”
Alan scooted back down in his seat and closed his eyes without making a sound. I was positive his tongue was bleeding from biting it so hard. Feeling the cool breeze under my extended wings, I propelled myself even higher. I chuckled to myself.
At first, I tried to focus on a full view of what was on either side of the freeway, but I was afraid that if all my energy wasn’t focused on ‘being the eagle’ our car was going to be detected. I don’t know where that feeling came from, but I followed my instincts.
“You are so weird, but that’s what I love about you,” he mumbled.
I flapped a few more times than glided, hovering over the highway for quite some time. Now the black sky seemed to lighten, which permitted me to easily see the span of two freeways. Or maybe because I was an eagle, my vision had improved. My heartbeat increased; this was so unbelievably cool. I enjoyed the freedom I had never experienced in my entire life, at least in this life. It was absolutely exhilarating.
I remember when I was in third grade, and we lived in Florida, the neighborhood kids, my brothers and I were outside playing hide-in-go-seek when I became frustrated because I could barely see in the tar-like darkness. When all of a sudden, a thought popped into my head, and without questioning it, I allowed myself to morph into an owl to borrow his eyesight. I wasn't shocked that I could see everything clearly. Another time I remember borrowing this magic when I was about to compete in a race at school. I listened to my steady quick breath and saw myself as a beautiful black jaguar. I won a second-place ribbon running against all the sixth graders in my school. 
I never wondered as a child where I had learned this technique, but once I had taken some Shaman workshops, I knew what I had done. I had journeyed. I often wondered if my unconscious mind or cells had remembered a previous life because I am 16th Cherokee Indian.
“There’s a cop two hundred feet away, slow down!” Alan commanded. My eyes followed his pointed finger, and I recognized a black and white car parked on the dirt medium, separating the freeways.
I don’t know why I was so confident, “Don’t worry. We’re okay. He’s not going to see us.”
We passed the police car smoothly while going 85 mph in a 60 mph zone.
“God d_ _ _! How did you do that?”(Alan rarely cusses.)
“Stop condemning God.”
“I mean, darn.” He looked at me, surprised, “I don’t get it. I always get tickets when I speed.”
Smiling, I still maintained focus while the winds whispered through my wings.
Years later I learned in a Shaman workshop that people who do this technique need to be very careful as they make their car invisible to everyone so a nearby vehicle could drive into your lane thereby hitting you. That scared me a bit.
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