Chapter 8 – The Cottage 

After sending prayers out to the Universe several times, taking the house in Esher on and off the market, then finally putting it back on the market, the time to move was suddenly right. A little White Cottage set in the middle of a large plot of land manifested itself right next to woods on a road called Orestan Lane. Who could resist a name connected to Orestes. On the day we moved my friend the gypsy, in her Madonna blue coat, came by to wish us a smooth transition. More importantly she said goodbye saying “We won’t see each other any more as fellow gypsies are going to look after you from now on”. She gave me two blue glass pebbles, a big hug and disappeared. True to her word, I never saw her again.

The first night we slept in our new home there were no curtains, bare floorboards and sleeping bags on the floor. Beltaine, our beloved wolfhound snuggled up to me for extra warmth and comfort. Some time during the night I was woken up by a noise. A light seemed to be circling the house and I could hear a strange tinkling as well as chanting. Beltaine was also awake but stayed very still and certainly didn’t bark. As the sounds drifted away, I went back to sleep. The next day my dear friend Danny dropped by. Despite his Scottish roots, He had lived locally a very long time including and was aware of my whole process in moving. I told him what had happened the night before saying I thought I must have been dreaming. He laughed and came out with this surprising explanation. “Oh wee hen that was no dream. I had told my gypsy friends round the corner that you were moving in and to keep an eye on you and the wee bairns. They must have come round to protect the cottage and welcome you”. I just stared at him. What? Then I remembered what my lovely gypsy had said.

It felt that we had landed in a very magical spot. One of the node points on the crystal pathways in the earth, like the ones I had connected with following the Michael and Mary lines before we moved. Not only were the gypsies round the corner but the lady we had bought the house from was called Mrs. Smith. A surname often used by gypsies. She had chosen our bid despite it being the lowest. Every time she saw the boys, as she had moved close by, she would give them a little pocket money. I never asked her if she was related to the gypsies round the corner but she had certainly wanted us to live there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Talking of money, there was just enough left over from the sale of our old home to make a few changes to the cottage so that we each had a bedroom. I also built a cabin in the back so I could work from there. The cabin was like the tardis and could hold twenty people or be intimate enough for one to one counselling. Perfect. Over the years a meditation cabin was added, then finally an office cabin. I was given the nickname “the shed queen”. Fine with me and I still love sheds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With friends and family, we planted the garden with edible plants and carefully chosen trees. In the middle of the trees, we had a space for a sweat lodge. A Native American tradition of purification very similar to a sauna, built in the shape of a dome from hazel or willow in our case. A pit is dug in the middle, the dome covered by blankets. Hot stones are put in the pit, then water poured on them and then you sweat, praying in a specific way for purification. This ritual became a regular part of life at the Cottage especially at the times of Equinoxes and Solstices. A tribe began to form made up of friends, clients and family. We didn’t realise it at the time but they are now known as halcyon days by us all. What we learned during those years would continue to support us throughout our lives. The whole time we lived there, I don’t think we ever had what could be called an ordinary day and the following story is an example.

One wintry morning I woke up to find it was snowing. Should I take my son to school? I phoned the school and was told it was open and why on earth would I not bring him just because of a bit of snow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So we got ready and met my girlfriend, Elaine, with her twins outside the Plough pub at the top of our lane, as I always did the morning school run. She was part of the little tribe that was beginning to form at The Cottage and we loved sharing the school run. Her children were also frequent visitors to our unconventional home and we often had interesting conversations on the way to school. As she and I were discussing the pros and cons of going, her sons got in the back of the car with my son and the decision seemed to have been made for us. It was a beautiful drive in the Surrey Hills and I usually enjoyed it despite the odd dangerous hairpin bends. In the snow it was particularly picturesque. The boys were happily chatting in the back. At the crossroads before we entered the woods, I wondered if I should turn back, but a magnetic force seemed to be pulling me forwards. The road twisted and turned with gnarled trees overhanging from the high banks either side.

Suddenly as I was going round yet another bend, I firmly said to the boys “I don’t know why but put down some imaginary tree roots from the soles of your feet, bring down the light and pray!” Thank goodness they didn’t hesitate and were used to me talking like this. As I said this, I lost control of the car and as we came out of the bend a man was standing in front of me a few yards away. He had shoulder length hair and wore a grey snowsuit. He just calmly stood there. If I carried on straight I would crash right into him and he would be killed.

I was thinking and praying at the same time. I knew that there was a drop somewhere here as I noticed a steel barrier. Where? Out of the blue, I remembered I could move the steering wheel from side to side and that might slow the car down. I prayed and I could hear the boys behind me doing the same. The man hadn’t moved. I could see the steel barrier loom up and we crashed.

Very, very gently the door on the driver’s side was opened. I heard the man’s voice say “Everything will be alright, you are alright. All will be well”. An energy came into the car that was full of peace, serenity and so much more. His voice was vaguely familiar. He then calmly said “ You must all get out of the car quickly now”.

The man and I moved the boys away from the car beyond the bend. It was like a surreal dance in the snow. Looking back, I saw a white car coming down the hill in the same way we had done. Then to my right, a white van appeared from the other direction, stopped and two men jumped out. Like comedians in a Shakespeare play, jovially in unison they said “Everything will be alright, we have got this. We have everything you need.” They ran up the hill, grabbed hold of the car each side, and with the help of the driver, steered it away from us. They then looked at our car, declaring “There is no real damage and we can crowbar it off the barrier in a jiffy”. I suddenly remembered the man with long hair. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air, there was nowhere for him to have gone. In fact now I could see he had been standing in front of the drop.

By now our car was back on the road, the two men got us safely in, saying “See, everything will always be alright”. In a daze, we carried on to the school. When we got there someone was standing at the entrance waving their hands, telling us to go away. When I rolled the window down they shouted “The school is closed, of course it is closed in this weather. One of the Mother’s has had an accident in the driveway. Go home. The school is closed”. I didn’t bother to say I had been told to come.

Needless to say I drove home the long way round. The boys started an animated conversation behind me wondering if the first man was angel as he had saved our lives by standing in front of the drop and I had somehow managed to steer away so as not to kill him. We had all felt the peace and serenity when he opened the door. They decided they definitely believed in angels and maybe the two in the white van were his helpers. Interesting conversation for eight year olds.

The rest of the day they had fun building a snowman and excitedly told my friend about our close encounter with an angel and his helpers when she came to fetch them. That was the end of the story, so I thought.

A few days later, I was meditating with two other people. All of a sudden my energy started to change and I began to feel very, very cold, quite disconnected, a little light-headed. I saw myself dressed in a long white fur coat with a big hood covering my head. I was standing in a clearing in the snow and despite my clothes felt chilled through. A soldier in a grey hat and calf length coat was standing very close to me, like a protective guardian, almost propping me up. A little way in front of me was a row of soldiers, their backs to me. I realised they were a firing squad and beyond, facing them, was a man with his head covered. As I took in the scene, I became aware I had been shot in the heart and blood was beginning to seep through my coat. I was dying, which explained the severe cold, the feeling of disconnection.

The hooded man, the man they were going to execute, was the man who had shot me. With any energy I had left, I stopped them as they raised their rifles, saying “No, this is not the answer. Can any of you guarantee that you have not done the same as this man has done to me or that you have not wanted to. Even if you can honestly guarantee this, it still does not give you the right to kill him. Revenge is not the way.”

They lowered their rifles. I asked that his head be uncovered. As I stared at him, I recognised him as the man who had saved our lives during the drive to school in the snow. The soldiers drifted away, I felt colder and colder and I heard his voice say “all will be well” as his body began to dematerialise. In its place, there in the snow, was a rose in a pool of blood. From out of the woods by the clearing came a deer which nuzzled me as I died.

 

Gently I came out of the trance and understood that the man had come back as an angel in this lifetime to make sure I didn’t die again in the snow.