Yesterday was the spring Spirit Fair, sponsored by the Infinite Light Source Church. As I was writing a check to pay for our admission, my daughter asked if the check was written on the Infinite Source Bank. (Good one, eh?)
It is a guilty pleasure to attend the spirit fairs and spend my money on frivolous things - like more crystals. I guess I qualify as a collector of quartz crystals. It is like living with cats: there is nothing you can "do" with them, just enjoy your life together. The Fair is a wonderful, peaceful energy that feels good to me. Everyone in attendance is like-minded and it makes a tangible difference to be in a sea of similar energy.
At one of the earliest fairs in Topeka, as I was blissfully browsing through various tables of arts and herbs, peaceful and oblivious, I was suddenly aware of something powerfully obtrusive moving quickly behind me. When I turned, I was shocked to see a uniformed policeman striding through the crowd at the far side of the room. I instantly thought the "authorities" were shutting down the pagan fair. I later heard a vendor had been robbed of a cash box. (Not everyone at the fair is totally like-minded, I guess.)
I have often thought about that experience. I distinctly felt a powerful energy moving behind me, something definitely out of place. I even knew instantly which direction it was traveling. It was not the policeman, but the gun in his holster. Every gun that has ever been manufactured has been created with the intent of killing another living being, whether human or animal. Guns are created with a powerful intent, handled with a powerful intent, and known to all living creatures on the earth for that power, intent, and deadly danger. I am making no moral judgment on guns, or hunting, or gun-carrying policemen here. A gun, a rock, a heavy limb can all accomplish the same thing, so the gun itself is not the power. Rather, a gun is imbued with the weight and energy of a supremely powerful human intention, and it is mighty. Our intention possesses energetic substance in addition to physical consequence.
Some time after that incident, I was taking an extensive Sunday afternoon drive through the rural areas north and west of Topeka. I love to slowly explore the back roads, looking for wildlife, new scenery, and simply enjoying the Kansas country. The less traveled a road appears, the more I want to follow it. I was in a state of mind similar to the Spirit fair bliss: happily browsing through the green and quiet countryside, at peace with the entire universe, when a terrible feeling hit me head on. I instantly felt bad, as if I had just been hit with bad news. As I was wondering what the heck it was all about, I popped over the brow of a hill to see a long haired man standing on the right side of the road, aiming a very large chrome hand gun directly across my path. I am not sure who was more startled. He was apparently target shooting.
I nodded at him, with what I am sure was a totally shocked expression on my face, and drove by as if it was normal for us to meet in such a manner. He did not look exactly friendly, not at all happy to see me. Maybe it was his land I was driving on. I am sure it was also in his mind that if I had been traveling faster, I could have conceivably driven right into the line of fire. I do not know how he did not hear me coming, not hear the engine. It was a soft dirt road, so he would not have heard the crunch of tires on gravel and I had not heard gun shots. As soon as I was past him, the bad feeling was gone as suddenly as it appeared.
So, twice I have sensed a gun before I saw it. I wish I could sense buried treasure as easily.