This
story begins in June of 1995 when I read an article in New Age
Journal about the Labyrinth. Something inside me became very excited.
I had a feeling that I was supposed to find one and walk on it.
I lived in Palo Alto on the San Francisco Peninsula, and although
it is not that far from the city of San Francisco, I had hoped
there might be a Labyrinth somewhere closer to my residence.
So
I called a man who was a customer at the bookstore where I worked
on Sundays, as he was well versed in the Labyrinth, which he called
the Dromenon. Frank, who is Luke in the story, offered to take
me to walk on the Labyrinth in San Francisco, and the story depicts
what actually happened on that walk. However, what occurred on
our way home, was that Frank asked our mutual friend Margret (Helen
in the story) and me if we would like to accompany him on his
trip to New Mexico in October. He would be there for five days
on retreat, and would love to show us the magical state he was
intending to move to in a few years.
I
do not particularly like to travel, but without hesitation, I
said I would certainly come to New Mexico. I was as amazed as
my friends and family were when I told them I was going. Something
else was directing this venture, and I had enough sense to follow.
The
trip to New Mexico involved many things described in the book.
The experience with the mountains and the tree and the Indian
museum and village were all depictions of actual impressions and
happenings.
When
we left New Mexico, I sobbed
feeling wrenched from my "family"
and home. I attempted to sketch my impressions of the mountains
and searched for books that would show the ones I had felt such
kinship to.
In
February of 1996 we walked the Labyrinth again, and while engaged
in the process, I received a message. "Your work is going
to change. You will leave what you are doing and move into your
greater work. This has been your apprenticeship. The bigger work
will now begin."
I
left the Labyrinth and sat on the sideline, looking up at the
windows. "Great!" I thought. That was fine with me,
but how would I make a living, and what was my new work? I had
questions with no answers. Now the process of finding my way to
it would begin. I shared what I'd received with Frank and Margret,
and she got "chills," feeling that indeed something
amazing was about to happen.
At
the end of March I realized that I had to do something to make
more money, and decided I would have to take another consulting
job to supplement my income. I lead an unusual lifestyle
piecing
together aspects of income in order to have the freedom to be
me. Now, the prospect loomed ahead of me again to find other avenues
of financial support, although I wasn't happy about it.
That
day, I had an appointment with a friend who did cranial sacral
work, and as she asked me what I was doing, I told her about my
need to find a part time job. She became very animated and excitedly
proposed that I think about helping organize a new office for
her and her fiancé who were in the midst of combining their
practices. She said I could name my hours and come to work for
as long or as little as I wanted. She said, "don't answer
now
go home and think about it. We're not going to do this
'til May, so you have some time."
I
went home, amazed at how quickly my thoughts had manifested an
offer of work. I also felt dejected about it, because I had done
this before. In an attempt to supplement my income, I'd taken
work that wasn't my work, and my creativity came to a halt. The
end result was always frustration, and I had the feeling of walking
back into a box for the sake of security.
During
the next week, I had a dream. In the dream, I was at their office
and could find their shoes, but none of my own. I then left the
office and got onto my tricycle to ride home
.going down
a steep hill with no brakes. I then went to a group of foreigners
and asked where I lived. They didn't know and did not speak English.
Next scene, I was leaving the office, looking for my car. It had
been stolen, and when I asked a repairman if he'd seen anyone
take it, he told me he was working undercover and would not say
anything.
The
dream kept unfolding in a manner that told me clearly that I was
selling myself to something that would allow me no identity or
fulfillment, and I woke up very aware of the message it was giving.
However, I needed the work, so was still considering the offer.
As
another week passed, I felt like a flake, not giving an answer
to a very nice offer. I had decided I would tell my friend "yes"
at our next scheduled appointment. On the day before I was to
see her, I was in the bathroom putting on my makeup when the voice
that I heard on the Labyrinth "spoke" to me. It suggested
that I should take the time I would work for the friend and write
instead, supplementing my income with my savings for six months
or
until the end of the year. I thought about that. It was an idea,
but I had no idea what I would write about. A technical book on
the subject I'd been working with for 18 years? My newsletter?
No. Neither of those things felt appropriate, and I was left again
with a possibility, but no answer.
I
went to my appointment and told my friend what had happened, and
that I had always taken jobs in the past when I got scared about
not having enough money, but that this time I was going to have
to invest in myself (which was a message I'd been getting since
the early 1980s and never followed). She told me that if she was
responsible for me doing more of my creative work, she was delighted,
and there were no hard feelings. In fact, she was overjoyed for
me.
So
the weeks passed, and I still had no idea what I would write.
About a week after reading The Tenth Insight, by James Redfield,
I was sitting in my living room in the morning with a cup of tea,
looking out at the garden, and the voice came. You should write
a book. "Fine," I replied. "What about?" You
should write a book about life, about the things you've experienced
and know, and you should write it as fiction. "Fiction? I
don't do fiction!" I responded. Yes, you can. I will help
you. Model it after the Celestine Prophecy. It doesn't have to
be great literature. It has to bring a message of awakening to
people. Go on. Go upstairs now and sit at your computer. You can
do it. I became very excited. I thought about it. The Celestine
Prophecy and The Tenth Insight were books with good messages,
but they were not well written, and I was always annoyed with
the contrived violence. Perhaps I could do something. If not,
I would throw my attempts away. So I went upstairs, flipped on
my computer and began. I had the first sentence in my head and
would start there. As I glanced at the clock on my computer, it
was 11:11, and the music on my CD was Amazing Grace.
As
I began writing, ideas tumbled in my mind, and I poured them out
as I went. I called my friend Margret and read the first two pages
to her, and she got "chills" again. "Oh, Kathleen
you
really have something here. You must continue. This is going to
be an important work. Not just for you, but for other people as
well." And so the story began.
I
was surprisingly energized. I would work for 10 and 12 hours a
day on the book without noticing the passing of time. Other things
took me away from this work that was becoming a living experience.
While I wrote about the New Mexico portion of the journey, I had
tapes on by Chris Isaak and the Gypsy Kings. Frank had given me
old issues of New Mexico magazines, and I cut pictures out of
them that reflected the natural setting that I loved there. I
taped them to my computer monitor and all over the room, so I
would feel as though I were there. It would surprise me when I
came out of my writing and found myself in California. When I
walked, ideas would flow through my mind. One morning a large
black crow cawed at me and followed as I walked. I looked to see
what he wanted, but he just made me aware that he was there, and
this was how he came to be part of the story.
When
I wrote one of the chapters, I initially called it Human Energy
Systems. I went into an explanation of graphs and charts on a
table in the back of the room and was totally stuck. It felt wooden
and had nowhere to go. I stopped in frustration and looked up
and called out, "Help!" The voice presented itself.
What help do you want? You seem intent on doing this your way,
so go ahead. "No! I want your help. I can't write this by
myself." So the presence seemed to ask if I really did want
assistance, and I was adamant. "I want this to be your book.
I'm merely your scribe." With that, I erased the chapter
title, and in its place flowed the words, Rivers of Light. And
in my room, "standing" before me with incredible grace
was a beautiful Indian woman in a sari. "Namaste!"
and
the chapter began.
This
continuous process of writing, being inspired, stopping to review
where I was going, checking out how much I was willing to give
up control, starting again
adding, subtracting. Expanding,
contracting. The process was a life process. I was growing as
I was writing and learning in the process. I saw how much I liked
being in control, and the importance of not being in control.
When I came to the end of the New Mexico adventure in the story,
there was a tangible constriction in my throat. I didn't want
to leave the place I loved. It was a hard adjustment, and the
return to the Bay Area was not easy for me, even though I'd physically
been there the whole time! Walking became my way of working through
the process. I would come home with renewed intention or a fresh
idea.
The
project began on May 4 and was completed in its first draft on
June 24th. Aside from obligations to family and get-togethers
with friends plus my Sundays at the bookstore, I did very little
else. Some days I actually wrote for 14 or 16 hours. And there
were days when I would get up at 4AM and start writing. I realized
that I had fallen in love, not just with the characters, but with
the process. I loved what I was doing, and then read on a desk
calendar that had sayings from Thomas Moore's Care of the Soul,
that if your work is not your lover, it is not your work. Again,
synchronicity. Everywhere if we pay attention. This "assignment"
was the fullest thing I'd ever been given so far, and as I wrote
and rewrote, I showed the unfolding story to various friends who
became my readers and critics. They were generous in their praise
and encouraging in the process. Everyone wanted me to go on because
they all felt there was something in this that was important for
others, that it must be shared with the world.
I
had no idea where it was going, nor did it matter. I was following
the guidance that prompted me, and the result was a deep enrichment
of my life.
Many
of the characters in the story are modeled after real people.
Some are not. It doesn't matter, because the essence of what this
book has to impart is a process for the reader. It is a journey
of awakening, and as the author, I have needed to grow into the
message as much as anyone. In the intervening years, I've re-read
the story many times, and each time there is something new that
reveals itself, giving me another level of understanding about
life and my place in it that I did not fully know before.
I
urge you to let the words wash over you as you read. It was impressed
upon me that the wording was important, and that there was much
more going on at a subtle level than a mere story. I have had
enough feedback from others who are sensitive to this type of
energy to feel that this is so.
Vision
of the Grail has gone through two printings. I published the original
book according to guided instructions in 1996, and a small publisher
picked it up in 2001, even though I had misgivings about their
ability to adequately market it. My instincts proved correct,
and they went out of business the following year due to mismanagement.
Therefore, Vision of the Grail is now out of print. However, earlier
this year (2006), I received phone calls from several people who
told me they picked the book up after having read it years ago
and re-read it. They reported that they found the information
so valid for this time period that they strongly suggested I find
a new publisher
that other people needed to read what was
in the book. It was then that I determined if www.Planetlightworker.com
would like to serialize the entire book, I would be happy to let
them. So in June 2006, the serialization of the book is taking
place. They will release one or two chapters per month until it
is finished. For those who would like to have the actual book,
there are still a few to be had that can be ordered through this
website or from Amazon.com. For those who want to read the book
as a download, I am offering it for $6. Check the order information
page for more information.
So,
friends
that is the story behind the story of Vision of the
Grail. It has been an amazing journey, and a new one begins as
I write the sequel, The Riddle of Our Ancestors. It goes much
more slowly, but has important information that will be of value,
too.