Meeting Solomon and Charlie
When I went to explore Camp Chesterfield in July of 2016, I went with some hesitation. My past experiences with Spiritualist Camps in particular, and Spiritualist Churches in general have been – well, mixed is the best word to use.
When I was first reawakened almost 30 years ago, Spirit led me into a tiny Spiritualist church on the West Coast, but based on later experiences in other Spiritualist organizations, you wouldn’t know it was a Spiritualist Church. There was a healing service and a message giving time, but both blended into the regular Sunday service. The founder of this little church was a tiny powerhouse of a woman (supported by her delightful husband Jim) with cornflower blue eyes that – with one glance – could pierce you to your very core. Her name was Beulah. I don’t think it was an accident that one of the meanings for this name is ‘lady-boss’. She certainly was the center around which that church revolved.
There is a whole magnificent teaching story with this Master, but I will save that for some other time. The point of mentioning this church was the sense of welcome and warmth I felt when I stepped into this small, close-knit community. Almost a generation’s worth of years later, I walked into a large well-established Spiritualist church and barely made it to the end of the service. I left, trembling, and decided that was not the place for me. I’ve never been back.
I won’t mention the OTHER Camp I visited that left me disillusioned about all things Spiritualist. There have been some changes there since last I worked there, and I am sure they have been only for the better. When I left there, I left feeling that perhaps this Spiritualism thing was not for me in any form. Yet I kept finding myself on Spiritualist websites (mostly English – as in England – ones). Well, when would I ever have the resources to study in England? Probably never, to be honest here.
Then came the repeated hints (I now understand they were coming from my Dr Teacher) to give the ‘sunflower philosophy’ one more chance. This year, 2016, was the time to do that. I recently moved to a state that put me within a comfortable day’s drive of Camp Chesterfield, so the travel obstacle was removed. I discovered they offer a training program that I can participate in according to my means and time schedule. That provides an incentive to explore in that direction.
I took things slowly. I enrolled for a weekend workshop with someone whose books I’d read and enjoyed. I enjoyed the grounds and the overall atmosphere of the place. (Notice I didn’t use the obvious phrase: I really liked the ‘Spirit’ of the place.)
But this Letter is about exactly that: the Spirit of the place. I had the most intense experience while in that brief workshop. The workshop leader guided us through a relaxation/grounding meditation, and then said that now we would have the opportunity to meet one of our Spirit guides, the one we most needed to connect with according to our current place on our spiritual journey.
I’ve never had such a physical reaction to the presence of anyone in Spirit, except for the times when crossed-over loved ones hit me in the heart with the intensity of their love and it makes me want to cry. I have ‘seen’ Spirit guides and loved ones clairvoyantly and ‘heard’ them speak clairaudiently, but rarely have the communications been so clear as they were this day, in this place.
He stood directly in front of me, eyes blazing. Robed and carrying a staff, he just worked with the energy of my 3rd chakra, my heart chakra, my throat, my 3rd eye and my temples as well. I felt all of this in my physical body during the brief meditation. When we came back from the guided meditation, it took me awhile to come back to normal, waking life self. I proceeded to do a sketch of this being, and as I worked, I heard the name Solomon. Right after I finished the drawing, I concentrated on coming back to normal awareness.
In the process of ‘coming back down’, I saw very clearly a smiling red-haired, slightly balding, short-statured man. With this image, I heard the name ‘Charlie’. What the heck? I thought. Who the heck is this Charlie fellow? Is he someone’s crossed-over loved one? Sometimes I see them clearly enough to draw them. No one claimed him. For no apparent reason, I heard an old hymn in my head while I sketched Charlie. I filed that away, too.
Later that day, I had a reading with the workshop facilitator. I wanted to experience her process. Towards the end of the reading, she mentioned the name Charlie and tried to place him as one of my relatives in Spirit. the problem is, I don’t HAVE a relative named Charlie in Spirit. When I said so, she just replied ‘Well, I’ll just leave you with that, then.’ I left a bit confused, but knew that the mention of Charlie was something I needed to pay attention to.
Later that evening, there was an All-Medium Message service in the Chapel. I thought the extra donation would be worth the experience, so I went. Messages were flying to people all around me, and some were getting more than one. I was curious as to whether anyone was going to come to me. The demonstrations were drawing to a close. There was only one medium left, and she was going to do flower messages. The hymn chosen to introduce her was the same song I’d heard in my head earlier that day.
OK. NOW I’m paying attention. Then she asked anyone who had not yet received a message to raise their hands. Up went my hand. I told Spirit in my head which flowers I wanted them to impress her to choose for me so that I could know she was for real listening to Spirit. The vase began to empty. Then she reached for the flowers I had chosen for myself. She pulled them out, and gave a message to someone else. ‘Bummer,’ I thought.
She gave another couple of messages before she turned to me. She reached for the flowers from the vase, and struggled to free them. All of them started – and kept – trying to come out in a clump. Even she made the comment that they were fighting her. Inside, I smiled. Spirit was letting me know they TRIED to impress her to pull those particular flowers for me. She literally had to use both hands to wrestle the ones she’d chosen for me from the vase.
I don’t remember the exact words she first spoke to me, but it had to do with my willingness to Serve Spirit. Then, as she was winding down, she mentioned Charlie. Here it was AGAIN. When things come to me in threes, I pay very close attention, especially when they are so close in time. OK. So I don’t have a loved one in Spirit named Charlie, but someone named Charlie is definitely trying to get my attention!
I went home with a lot of questions but knowing that, as always, when I am supposed to know something, I will. I have been living with the knowledge that the Universe does not waste energy. I will know what I need to know WHEN I need to know it, and not a moment sooner.
I’d been sensing for months that I was in the middle of what can only be termed a second awakening on the level of that re-awakening I’d experienced in my 30s. And now, with this trip to Camp Chesterfield, came the awareness that this sense was on track. I could hardly wait for what would be coming next.
Life is a series of awakenings. ~Swami Mukeiji
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