CATEGORY: MRS. ANDERSON

After Bob and I were married and I was living in Portland, one of my university friends, also living in Portland, came to visit.  Her name was Adele.

Among the things we talked about that day was numerology, something I had never heard of.  Adele had recently read an article stating that certain successful people claimed they owed their success to having had the spelling of their names changed by numerologists so that the numbers that went with the letters became lucky for them.  An example was Diahann Carroll.  We decided that we would give it a try.  We looked in the Portland yellow pages and actually found a numerologist listed.  We called and made appointments.  Mine was for 8:00am on the following Saturday morning.

I do not remember this woman’s last name, but her first name was Joan.  She lived near Milwaukie, which was between S E Portland and Oregon City.   Before she started figuring my numerology, she told me that she would not be able to change the spelling of my name in order to bring me greater luck because it was not ethical and would create undesirable karma for her and for me.  After she had finished my chart, she said she could not bring me better luck than I already had.  She said that I was an “old soul” and had wonderful talents that I had acquired over many lifetimes which had served me well and would continue to serve me for the rest of my life. Then we fell into easy conversation and could not seem to stop talking.  In reality, she did most of the talking and I was a fascinated listener.  She did not have any other clients that day so we went on talking for the whole day.  She served me mid-morning herbal tea and cookies, followed by lunch and mid-afternoon snacks.   When I finally left at 5:00pm, she said she hoped I would come back to see her sometime, and that she strongly felt that we had shared a former life.

At one point she asked me if I had any physical problems, and I told her that I sometimes had severe headaches, perhaps due to a whiplash from having jumped out of the barn loft when I was a child, something that showed up on an x-ray much later in my life.  She said that I could benefit by going to a woman named Eleanora, a healer who lived out in the country near Sandy.  She said that Eleanora had studied in India for fourteen years and that the method of healing was the strengthening of one’s aura.  She said that she herself had gone to her after a surgery.  She explained that surgery and injuries both leave scars.  These scars leave holes in ones aura, and when there is a hole in your aura your energy leaks out.  She said “—and when that happens, pretty soon you have a lot of little spooks following you around”!   She said that many people, when they die, have not acquired enough spiritual energy during their lifetime to leave the earth plane; however, it requires energy for them to stay here, and they hover near people whose energy is leaking.  I laughed at this, imagining myself as a punctured tire.  But she cautioned me, saying it was a serious matter.  She also explained that not only scars are sources of energy leaks, but that many people simply have weak auras caused by sickness, and/or things like alcohol, drugs, smoking and other debilitating activities, and weak auras leak energy constantly.

Later she mentioned meditation, and I asked her how she meditated.  She said to sit in a chair, close your eyes and let your mind go anywhere it will. What ever thought comes, examine how you feel about it.  If you feel guilt, call up the image of the being you have wronged and say you are sorry and ask forgiveness.  If you feel angry, call up the image of the being that is making you angry and say, “I forgive you.”  If you are happy about something, express thanks.  Whatever you feel, say the thing that neutralizes that feeling.  She said, “The chances are that when you say you are sorry, or that you forgive someone, you won’t feel the least bit sorry or forgiving, but the next day, when you sit again, these same thoughts will come to the surface.  Then you do it all over again.  You keep doing this until these thoughts no longer come up.  You find you don’t feel guilty or angry any more.  Furthermore, when you meet the people you have wronged you find it is easy to apologize, or it is apparent that they are no longer angry with you.   She told me that it took her over a year of doing this until she could sit down and have nothing on her mind at all.  “Then when you have cleared away all the garbage, you can resolve things in your life just by requesting what you want.  It gives you power as long as you don’t abuse it by requesting frivolous or selfish things.”

When she said this, she suddenly jumped up and asked me to come with her.  She took me into her back yard.  It was charmingly but simply landscaped with a huge lawn that went down to a creek.  It was fenced on both sides with a wire fence through which could be seen her adjoining neighbor’s lawns, both of which were riddled with mole hills.  Her own lawn was as smooth as a green carpet.  She said, “The moles don’t come in my yard.”  She added, “They don’t come in my yard, because I lovingly ask them not to.”

The next day I told Adele that Joan wouldn’t enhance someone’s luck by changing the spelling of their names.  Adele canceled her appointment.

I must explain that when I am told far-out things like the things Joan told me, I neither believe them nor disbelieve them.  I have a “mound” of such things in my mind and I simply tuck them away in that mound for future reference.  The things that get reinforced sift to the bottom and become the basis of my beliefs and interests.

After my visit with Joan, I actually did go to Eleanora and she actually did cure my headaches.  My day with Joan was a highlight of my life.  I never think of it and her without thinking of her magical landscaping, her beautiful lawn and her emphatic words: “The moles don’t come in my yard!”