Eighth Dimension and The Girl in the Park Follow-Up

The day after I had the vision of being in the 8th dimension, in a class taught by the Dalai Lama no less, I had to acknowledge the crackle in the day’s energy. According to the Foundation for Global Humanity, those in the 8th dimension came up with the “blueprint” for Karma. In other words, that is a level of spirit where the teaching element of cause and effect is not necessary.

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What an idea? There is a level of existence where we’re all enlightened enough to treat each other well. There is place that challenges and where one is free to shed Karma like skin after a sunburn. I found it funny that upon receiving that vision my son decided to join with me and Boy George. You haven’t lived until you see a New Age mom, taking her Presbyterian baptized  son to his Methodist school as he sings Karma Chameleon. Incidentally, somebody made a penis and scrotum in the cement walk on the way into the school, and it’s a trinity that brings joy to my life every single school day.

That afternoon the angst-filled girl I wrote about the other day arrived at the park. She was hoping he would show up again: the forbidden boyfriend. She was one of those sparking fireworks that skids left and right only to make me nervous by going under a car. This young woman, instead, slid onto a bench at the picnic table where I was sitting. Okay, I thought, how do I make the best use of our proximity. How can I help, if at all? Then I saw it, boom! The girl that sat down at my picnic table, the day after I had the vision of the Dalai Lama, was wearing a Yin Yang necklace.

Tip #1: Anytime you want to start a conversion with a lady, complimenting her necklace is rock-solid.

“I like your necklace,” I said.

The girl told me that she and her boyfriend had the same necklace. She had heard that married people, or something like that, typically wear it. My empathy for this girl was fountaining out of the top of my head. Shit, okay, here we go, I thought.

I began by suggesting that it meant balance, and that balance wasn’t from an outside relationship but from within. If I was exploding with empathy, she was oozing grief.

“Even though he says he isn’t, I feel like he’s going to cheat on me,” she confided.

That’s when I truly saw myself at 15, the longing, the discomfort coming from feeling different, the yearning and fear that I’d never get enough to make it go away. I also knew in that moment that she was an empath in the psychic sense. This was the budding of a rose who didn’t understand why the sprinklers came on at random.

“Do you feel overwhelmed by the emotions of people around you,” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I feel that way all the time.”

“You feel everything,” I said, “don’t you?”

She told me she did, took a deep breath, and wiped a rogue tear away.

The conversation went on, and I spoke to her in terms of we instead of you, because she needed to understand that this was a garden of insight that needed tending rather than a weight on her chest. She needed to see that she is part of an us. The world’s empathetic souls are some of the most creative, compassionate, and inspiring. She was just cleaning out the boxes in her basement.

“I have nightmares,” she said. “I dream that a family member close to me is going to die. I catch him as he falls.”

I told her a story that a wise man told me. It essentially says that when we let our demons catch us, we find out they are helpful and trying to warn us.

“Your dreams are just telling you there is fear in your life to try and work through,” I said. “Next time, let him fall.”

She laughed. “Just let him fall?”

I explained that pretty soon, the emotion behind it would be defused. She’d even be yelling at this dude to get the heck up. The world changed. Her world changed as our talk continued, and so did mine. We all want to feel useful, used by a purpose greater than our grocery list. On that day in the park, I felt that.

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