Love Story: In The Web of Life by Ken Renshaw (snow like ashes TXT) 📕

I thought was a brother-not mybrother in this life-standing next to an ancient biplane, the kindthey fly in movies about World War I. The vision didn't last longso I didn't get much information about him. At that point, we hadto stop because I felt an incredible surge of happiness. I wasblown away, so excited about this exploration I booked anothersession tomorrow afternoon."

Tina looked startled and asked, "Was that apast life? I have a friend who did past life therapy and claims shewas all kinds of people."

"Not exactly. Tom says it was a connection toanother person in space-time. No DNA or reincarnationimplied. It is connection with aspace-time that holds some idea, emotion, unfinished business, orphysical injury that I need to address. Tom says it isunnecessary to understand the big picture of why this connectionexists. We can get rid of all the web attachments of informationwith negative emotional power."

Tina observed, "I have never seen you likethis. Is there more? Your energy is about to blow me right out ofthis chair."

Then, our margaritas came. Tina told me abouther week teaching. I gradually settled down from my high. Wechatted while we ate, and I observed that Mexican food was verygrounding.

As we finished, Tina said, "I love how you arechanging with all this space-time stuff."

"I also learned how these new friends havehomes that express ideas in space-time. The log cabin above RockyButte, the surroundings, the love, the solitude, and privacy areunique in space-time. Candice and Tom's place in Altadena is verytrue to the Bungalow Style and the Craftsman idea of detail,workmanship, and integrity. When I walked into the place, I feltintense feelings that this was somebody's loving home, a caringcreation, a unique place in space-time.

"In reflecting on the subject, I recalled thatmy mother tried to maintain the family house as it was at the timewhen my brother and I were in high school, my father was alive, andwe were a close family. When she passed away, our rooms were aboutthe same as when we went to college, with drawers filled with ourhigh school sports jerseys, Boy Scout uniforms, and silkscreenedT-shirts from the various events we had attended.

"When I look at where I live now, my apartment,all it says is 'expensive address,' 'talented interior decorator,'and 'big furnishing budget.' The place is no more to me than asuite at a five star hotel would be. I am not connected to it asthe people I visited are connected to where they live."

Tina grinned and added, "You are changing. I'dlike to meet Candice and Tom and see their housesometime."

"I'm going there tomorrow for a session withTom. You could come along. I'm not sure if Candice will be there.You might have to sit around alone for a couple ofhours."

"It sounds great. I have a pile of unread bookson my Kindle to entertain myself. I'd like to see Altadena. Maybe,we could stop by the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena on the wayhome. It is time for me to have another Impressionist fix. Have youever been there? There are lots of good places to eat in OldPasadena, sidewalk cafes and bistros. It's pleasant to wanderaround and shop this time of year. Have you ever been to the NortonSimon?"

"Not for a long time. It might be a good way toground myself after spending an hour or two traveling in space-timewith Tom."

I paused and then said, "One of the things Ilike about you is how much space you occupy, how you can mentallygo to Altadena and then flash over to the museum, go through it,probably visualizing some of the paintings and then move throughthe list of sidewalk cafes, probably recalling the menus, and thengo shopping, all in less than a minute.'

Tina tilted her head down in mock coyness,glanced hesitantly at me and said, "You left out how I started theday, I was in my place, making breakfast for you."

I felt that pleasant glow around my heart,raised my hand, and said, "Waiter, check please."

****

It was a beautiful day in Altadena. A latespring cold front had passed through during the night, clearing outthe LA haze and smog, making the sky sparkling blue, dotting themountains with a procession of small puffy clouds. I observed thatthis would not have been much of a soaring day on the desert, itwas a good day to be doing something else, particularly withTina.

As we drove through Altadena on the way toCandice and Tom's, Tina was admiring and commenting on the varietyand architecture of homes, Victorians from the early days ofAltadena, old bungalows from the depression era, some of whichmight have been the prefab kits sold from catalogs by companiessuch as Sears and Roebuck. Small tracts of thirties houses were ina stucco Mediterranean or Spanish style. We seemed to agree on whatwas ugly, and what was well done. I was having fun.

When we got to Candice and Tom's, Tina said,"Oh isn't that darling, so well done, with river stones coveringthe foundation and pillar bases. I'd bet they came from a nearbycreek. I see what you meant when you described it as a home thatsomebody loves. Look at the detail, those stained glass panels;the, old–fashioned windows with the three sections at the top; theway the beams and eaves are notched and fitted together.

When we walked up to the front door, I saw anote taped to the glass. It said, "Dave, I am with another client.Go on into the living room and make yourself at home. Coffee, tea,and a bowl of fruit are in the kitchen.

As we walked in, Tina exclaimed, "Oh, this isjust perfect. Pasadena and this area have Craftsman homes. Localartists make Mission Style furniture and ceramics in the Craftsmantradition. Notice the dark hammered copper light fixtures! Look atthe green ceramic vases, the finely–crafted bookcases, couch,rocking chairs. The door and window trim are without ornamentation,made of only flat boards, precisely fitted together! Thelight–green color of the walls, sets off their dark natural stain.The facing on the fireplace is made from custom tiles. Oh, this isreally wonderful!"

"And," I added, "that picture is by aCalifornia