The Firm
It was when I responded to the following ad that I knew my life would change forever!

Blimey! I was never given this option at school by the careers adviser, I thought. I was bemused by such an ad but intrigued. Surely it must be some kind of spoof. My curiosity got the better of me so I sent in my details and by return I received the following application form. I filled this in to the best of my ability and with total honesty, but in my opinion I did not come across as impressive, in fact I seemed the least likely person they would be looking for.

So there it was, the completed application form. When I nervously pressed the send button I still wasn’t sure that this was for real but at least they weren’t asking for any money. Having sent it off, I pushed it to the back of my mind and started on the pile of ironing.
     Two weeks passed and I still hadn’t had a reply but I presumed that they must have been inundated with applications. Either that or I was now part of a TV program scheduled to be shown on April fool’s day!
     Finally the wait was over, three weeks later I received a reply via email.

8 March, was my birthday and Sunday was an unusual day to hold an interview; I thought that was a day of rest. Anyway, I confirmed that the date was OK and received the directions and location. So off I went. I was still uncertain of what I was letting myself in for but curiosity was definitely getting the better of me.
  
     It was an early start for me as one likes to look one’s best when going for an interview. It took me two hours to get ready and four hours to get there. On approaching the building I was amazed at how tall it was, it was the highest tower block I had ever seen. I entered the reception and looked at the floor plan to see which floor the office of I’AM was on; it was on the Top floor in ‘The Unlimited Suite’.
     There was no way I was taking the stairs, so off I went in the elevator. My stomach was churning and I remember thinking ‘what the hell am I doing, I have no idea about the people I am about to meet; they could be psychopaths!’ The lift eventually came to a halt; basically it couldn’t go any further. The doors opened. ‘Here goes’ I whispered under my breath as I stepped out of the elevator.
     I looked around and found a door which said ‘The Unlimited Suite’. I approached it and was just about to knock when the door began to open on its own. I stepped through and couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
     It was the plushest office I had ever seen and the light was dazzling. Sunlight was flooding through the windows. Comfort just oozed from every corner of the room, which was very large, light and airy with a subtle smell of jasmine. A sense of calm and stillness filled the room and I immediately felt at ease. At the far end, people sat around the largest of tables but they were too far away for me to make out who they were.
     “Please come over,” said a voice from the far end. “You are most welcome.”
     As I got nearer the people became clearer and my jaw began to drop, literally, for around the table sat  ‘Prophets’, ‘miracle workers’, ‘wise men’, ‘spiritual teachers’, ‘enlightened beings’, ‘gurus’, ‘sages’; whatever you want to label them the room was full of them! I had never seen such an extraordinary sight. 
     When I reached the table all my anxiety seemed to melt away. The compassion radiating from these people was unlike anything I had experienced or seen before. In their eyes was a depth that seemed to go on forever and their smiles were as reassuring as the sun rising everyday. I felt at home, for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged.
     “Please take a seat,” said JC, the Managing Director, who sat at the head of the table. “We are very pleased you have come today.” He continued, “I shall briefly explain about this exciting job opportunity that has interested you enough to come here today. Now, to get to the position of Messiahress involves an extensive training program and it is not an easy path to follow. Once you have decided, here today, to walk this path you will not be able to get off it. Do you understand?”
     “Er, yes.” I replied gingerly. 
     “To arrive at the ultimate goal may not be easy. It all depends on the trainee. The training can be very hard, and there may be times when you wish you had never started but all this is part of the process. When you feel ready, you will have to sit an exam, during the training you will also be assessed and marked along the way; on passing the exam you will be awarded the certificate of Messiahress. Your understanding will be complete.”
     “To help you we have appointed a very special lady who has gone through what you are about to go through, she will be there with you whenever you ask her to be.  Her wisdom knows no bounds. We also, here at Head Office, will contact you periodically to encourage you or to point you in the right direction if needed. Just keep in mind the ultimate job, ‘the promotion’ and the rewards will be beyond anything you can imagine.”
     Sounds good I thought, although I really didn’t understand what he was talking about!
     As we sat around chatting the food began to arrive. I have never seen a spread like it and the taste was divine. The food seemed to appear from thin air, I certainly didn’t see any caterers in the room but then anything was possible considering the company I was keeping. Then, as if from nowhere, stood the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had the most amazing long black hair which shone like silk when the light caught it and her skin was a flawless olive color. I had never seen such beauty; it was hard to take my eyes off her. Her whole appearance was breathtaking.
     “Hello,” she said as she came over to me “I am The Barefoot Indian. I will be your training coach.”
       Her voice was very welcoming, yet it had a quality of authority and certainty about it.
     “Pleased to meet you” I said whilst quickly glancing down to look at her feet. She did not have any shoes on but was wearing a beautiful ankle bracelet, studded with turquoise stones.
      She progressed in a sweet voice “I will be with you whenever you need me, just think of me and I will be there. I will answer any questions you may have but the responsibility to understand the answers is down to you.”
    “Do you have any questions for me now?”
    “Yes,” I said “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you called The Barefoot Indian?” “Do you not like wearing shoes?”
     She smiled and replied “It is a Red Indian tribal tradition that when a baby is born the parents name the baby after the first thing they see. I was a difficult birth and came out feet first. The first thing my Father saw was my bare feet poking out; hence he called me The Barefoot Indian.”
     How lovely I thought, I started to ponder what my parents first saw when I was born and was filled with horror at what I could have been named: ‘coal in bucket’  ‘pipe in ashtray’ ‘wonky picture on wall.’ They somehow didn’t seem to have the same ring about them.
     I brought myself back to the present moment. As quickly as The Barefoot Indian appeared she left. I was sure I would have many questions for her later.
     I continued to sit around chatting with all these wonderful people; I hadn’t felt this relaxed in ages. They put me at total ease, an ease that I had not felt until today. I got the feeling that it didn’t matter what I looked like or what ridiculous things came out of my mouth, they had no judgment of me, in fact I got the sensation that they were seeing something in me that I could not see. 
    “I have to say that this office is wonderful, if I qualify as Messiahress will I work from here?” I asked.
     A little tubby man sitting crossed legged with his eyes shut in the corner of the room in what looked like the most painful yoga position replied “absolutely!”
     I continued “Why did you pick such a tall building to work from?”
     At this point JC stood up and walked over to the window and beckoned me over.
    “This building is perfect; it’s all to do with perspective.”
     Curiously I asked, “What do you mean?”
    “Life is about perspective; whatever your perspective is determines what you experience.” He went on “Up here we have a very different perspective on the world. We can look down and see what’s going on. For example, take a look at that woman over there in the park.”
     I followed the direction of his pointed finger and could just make out a woman in the park who was clearly distressed.
    “She was walking her dog when it got off the lead and ran away. She is very distressed and cannot find her beloved dog. Now, from our perspective up here we can see where the dog is.”
     I followed his finger again and sure enough there was the dog rummaging in the bushes about half a mile away from the woman.
    “To us the dog is not lost, we can see the whole picture. If the woman could see what we see, look at the world from our perspective, would she be distressed?”
    “Well no, she would just go to where her dog is.” I said.
    “Exactly! All she needs to do is change her perspective, see the whole picture and there is no distress, the dog was never lost.”
    “But how can she change her perspective?” I enquired.
    “She just needs to accept that there is another perspective, even if she can’t see it immediately but just entertained the thought that there might be one she would see it, it would come to her. All would be revealed.”
    How obvious I thought. This made me think that maybe this was why none of my prayers were answered. In my moments of desperation, that to which I was praying was not seeing what I was seeing. From its perspective things appeared to be very different.
      I stood for a while looking down on the world. I could see people rushing around totally unaware that there was another viewpoint. From where I stood the world looked vast with unlimited potential, from where they stood they couldn’t see beyond their own noses. It also struck me that from where I stood I could see where a person had come from and I could see where they were going. If I were to speak of what I saw the world would call me psychic, they would be convinced that I had special powers. I giggled to myself.
    I returned to the table and began to eat some fruit which tasted unlike any fruit I had ever had and clearly had not been sitting on a supermarket shelf!
   “Can I ask you something?” I asked JC. 
   “Anything” he replied.
   “Why do you need a new trainee? Surely any one of you could go out there and do your stuff. You have far more experience than I could ever have.”
   “Do not underestimate yourself. But to answer your question, as one of us once said, ‘you cannot tread on the same piece of water twice.’ Life is full of experience; once an experience is fulfilled you move on to the next. There are infinite experiences.  You can only move forward not back.”
   “But you must have noticed that there are great atrocities in the world which are done in your names, where it is claimed that wars exist because it is your will. Would it not be wise to put the record straight?”
    “Only the fearful and weak need to use another’s name in order to fight a battle, they haven’t got the guts to stand up and say ‘I am doing this because this is what I think.’ ‘I do this in my name.’ ‘This is my will.’ To do this they would have to be challenged and justify why they think what they think. Instead they use the invisible, that which cannot be challenged. It is an excuse to express what is in their minds and clearly not ours. We have never been consulted. It is not our will.”
    “But couldn’t you stop them from doing such things?”
    “Only the one who starts something has the power within them to stop something.”
    “You put things so simply!” I exclaimed.
    “Life is not complicated” he replied.

Time was moving on and I was concerned about making my way home. I stood up and suggested that I make a move. I felt that very little was discussed regarding the job position but somehow this didn’t seem to matter.
    “We would very much like to offer you the position if you would like it” said JC
    “Yes, I think I would, especially if it means working here with you guys! How long does the training last?”
    “That is down to you, it all depends on your speed of progress.” said Mr Chang, a Chinese chap with the longest plaits I have ever seen.
    “And what about the pay?” I enquired.
    “All your needs are taken care of,” Mr Chang said with a reassuring smile.
     JC continued “You must now go back to your life and live it as normal; the training will begin when you wake-up tomorrow.”
   “Do you have an instruction booklet or training manual that I could use?” I asked.
   “All that you need is with you. Do not think about tomorrow, tomorrow will take care of itself. To help you on your way, keep in mind at all times, no matter what is going on around you, that there is only one solution to any problem. There is only one thing to ever know.”
   “And what is that?” I enquired.
   “That is for you to discover,” he replied with a grin.
     This is all very confusing but intriguing at the same time, I thought.
   “Just one more thing,” I said nervously, “Will I ever get to meet the Chairman, the head of the Company?”
   “Well, let me put it this way, on the day of your promotion, yes, you will most definitely meet the ‘Head’, the one in charge!” he smiled.

     As I was putting on my coat to leave I enquired what the time was, I felt like I had been there such along time I was certain that my parking ticket would have ran out.
    “I’m afraid we do not know the time, but there is a clock in the elevator” said Mr Chang.
    “OK, bye then!” I shouted as I left the room.
     I pressed for the elevator and waited impatiently. I was in a hurry to get back to the car; I could not afford a parking fine. At last it arrived, I stepped in, pressed the button and looked at the clock and it said 12 noon. It must be wrong, I thought. The elevator stopped and I stepped out.
    “What time is it please?” I asked a gentleman who was waiting to get in the elevator.
    “Twelve noon” he replied.

Reflections
I awoke the next day refreshed and leapt out of bed, well not quite, but my vigor was great compared to most mornings. As I ate breakfast I contemplated what I should do for the day.
    ‘Live life as normal’ JC’s words came back to me.
     OK, I thought, I shall just take it easy today, watch a bit of TV and see what happens, if anything. After all this was the first day of my new job and there didn’t seem to be any rules.
     After spending the day chilling out and enjoying my new job, by mid afternoon I began to ponder The Barefoot Indian. I couldn’t get her striking beauty out of my mind. No sooner had I started to think of her than there was a knock at the door. I opened the door and there she stood. In my amazement, I invited her in.
    “What would you like to ask me?” she enquired.
    “Well, erm,” I stumbled “I am so struck by your beauty, your skin is flawless, your figure is to die for and there is not a hair out of place. Your beauty is so natural, you wear no make up and yet your features are highlighted by some kind of invisible source.  How do you achieve that?  I can spend two hours getting ready, slapping on lotions and potions, applying make up that needs a chisel to remove it and yet when I look in the mirror, my efforts don’t come anywhere near the level of your beauty.”
    “Perhaps that’s where your error lies,” she answered.
    “Where?” I asked.
    “With the mirror,” she said and then continued “I don’t need a mirror to show me what I look like. I have seen what I am without a mirror.”
     Intrigued, I asked “What do you mean?”
    “Let me put it this way. Imagine looking into a pond and seeing the reflection of a flower. Firstly, your ability to see the reflection is dependant on many influences, for example the movement of the water, the light, and the weather to name a few. One day the clarity of the water may be murky so the reflection appears dull, you would prefer it if it was clear. The next day the water may be moving so the reflection looks distorted, you would prefer it to be calm. The next day the lighting is bad so the reflection is dark, you would prefer it to be bright. You are never happy with your view of the reflection, it’s never perfect.”
     I agreed.
    She continued “let’s assume that finally the day comes when all the conditions are right, you are able to see the reflection of the flower in all its glory. The reflection is perfect.”
    “Can you smell and experience the sweet fragrance of the flower from the reflection?”
    “No,” I said.
    “Are you able to touch and experience the delicate structure of its petals from the reflection?”
    “No.”
    “Can you hold the flower in your hands, marvel at its beauty and experience its innocence from the reflection?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Well, because it’s a reflection, an image only. It is not the flower. It has no life on its own.”
    “Correct. The only way to truly behold the flower is to go to the source of the reflection! You have become so obsessed with the reflection that you have forgotten the source. There and only there can you experience the beauty of the flower and all that it is. The flower is a living thing for you to embrace. Go to the source!”
    “You are concerned with your own reflection; this will not reveal your true beauty, only the source can do that.”
   “Finally, when you have gone to the source and seen what is there, would you then need to check the reflection?” she asked.
    “Well no, concern with the reflection was because the source of it had not been seen,” I replied.
    “That’s right and so it is with you. Go to the source of you, not the reflection; it is the only way to experience your true beauty!”
    “But how do you go to the source?” I asked.
    “Stop being concerned with the reflection. See it for what it is; a reflection. When you turn away from the reflection only the source remains.”
     She continued, “Practice this little exercise. On a piece of paper write down everything you know about your appearance and everything you know about yourself.  Describe yourself in detail, but do not write down anything that you have seen in a reflection or have been told by someone else. By doing this, it will give you some idea of how well you know yourself. Do this periodically and see how it changes.”
     As she spoke, in my mind, I briefly tried to do what she was saying.
    “It seems impossible,” I said.
    “Persevere with it. You will have to draw on knowledge that is in you that has been kept hidden for so long, and you will have to use senses and feelings that you have long forgotten how to use. No matter how obscure things may feel, write them down.”
   “I will” I promised.

     She then left.

 I grabbed a notebook and a pen, headed the page ME, and eagerly set about the task only to find the paper remained blank. I guess that’s the end of mirrors for me! I thought.

The Sublime And The Ridiculous
I still wasn’t clear about my new job and what was expected of me. It appeared that I had no direction and was being left to my own devices. As this was the case and I had not been given anything specific to do I decided to visit a dear friend of mine.  He was approaching eighty and was quite infirm and loved company. His wife died about seven years ago and he missed her terribly, to the point where you would think that he had just lost her. I loved to visit him as I found him so interesting and he always had a story to tell.
     I set off and on the way there I started to think of how I could help him. Perhaps I could heal him? My mind started to wander. How would I heal him? Maybe all I need to do is say get up and walk! That’s been done before; it’s worked for the others, why not for me? Maybe with my new job position I had been given special powers. Then horror struck me as I imagined the headlines: ‘it’s a miracle, man gets up and walks, then falls down the stairs!’
     I shall leave the healing for now, I thought, I need further advice on that one!

     I arrived at my friend’s house and walked in to the room where he was sitting.
    “Hello,” he said, “how wonderful to see you. You look so well, what have you been doing to yourself? You look different!”
    “Do I?” I replied. “I’m not sure.” 
     I really couldn’t answer him as I had not looked in a mirror for what seemed like a long time. 

     We sat chatting, drinking tea and eating cake. It was very pleasant. After a while he began talking to a photograph of his wife which sat on the table next to him. It was positioned directly in his vision so he could always see it. He always spoke to her as if she was in the room and kept her informed of what he was up to. The photo was the last one that was ever taken of her; she was in her wheelchair and struggling to smile for the camera. How sad for him, I thought.
     I began to bring him up to date on the gossip from the local village; he loved to hear all the news. I had been talking for about five minutes, when I suddenly noticed he had dropped off to sleep. All the drugs he took had this effect, so he would say; either that or I just bored him! So I sat quietly whilst he had a little nap.
    After about five minutes I suddenly had the sensation that we were not alone but I knew no one had come into the room. The feeling grew stronger but I did not feel alarmed. Then, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed something. My head turned and there standing in the corner of the room was a woman. I jumped slightly but her presence made me feel at ease. It was the same ease I felt the day I went to Head Office.
     She stood smiling at me. As I looked at her it became apparent to me that it was his wife. I had never met her but I could tell from the photograph that it was her, the eyes were the same. Her body was in perfect health. She had an ageless quality about her and the same essence of beauty radiated from her just like The Barefoot Indian although her appearance was unique.
    “Don’t feel sad for him,” she said “I am here.”
    “He can’t see where I am because he is always looking at where I am not.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “He looks at that photograph and sees me there. All his thoughts are on memories of what was. His attention is on something that isn’t living. Everywhere he looks he reminds himself of where I used to be, he never once thinks about where I am. How could he possibly see me when he has frozen me in a place where I am not?”
    “Well, he can’t,” I replied “But how does he see where you are?”
    “By ceasing to look where I am not!”
    “Let me ask you, if you were to leave the room now and he woke up and wanted to talk to you, what would he do, how would he do it?” she asked.
    “Well, he would have to find me, contact me, seek me out.” I replied.
    “That’s right, he would make the effort to find you and he would go to where you are. Why should I be different?” she went on. “Death is a trick, an illusion. I haven’t gone anywhere; I am very much alive, here and now. To him I left the world, to me the world left me.”
    “Why am I able to see you?” I asked.
    “You have willingness and nothing more” She replied.
    “I am so glad I have seen you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said.
    “The pleasure is all mine” she smiled.
     And then she was gone.

    A few moments later my friend woke up.
   “Did I miss anything?” He enquired.
   “Erm, not really” I lied as I tried to gather my thoughts together.
    
Shortly afterwards we said our goodbyes and rather than go straight home I decided to go for a walk in the park to ponder on what had just occurred. After a while I came across a bench and plonked myself down.
      I thought back to what she had said: ‘cease to look where I am not.’ I began to think about my Grandfather who had passed away recently and it dawned on me that I had only been concerned with where he no longer was; I only ever looked at the void.  As the realization started to sink in, I again had the sensation that I was not alone. I wasn’t. My Grandfather sat next to me on the bench. This did not alarm me in any way, quite the opposite. The feeling of calm and peace that radiated from him was like the rays of the sun wrapping around me. We sat and chatted for what seemed like ages. He spoke of what he was doing and who he had seen, it was a truly remarkable and personal experience. When he left I knew with certainty that he would always be there for me.
     As I was driving home, obviously, my thoughts were on the events of this extraordinary day. I had all sorts of questions running around in my head with no real answers, thoughts just kept churning around. Then I had an overwhelming feeling which arose from within me; I didn’t need answers, I didn’t need to understand. I had just witnessed something that had no understanding, it was the way it was, and it is the way it is.
     Wow, I thought, I am really getting the hang of this! I am sailing through the training. 
     Just then I pulled up at some traffic lights and was waiting for them to change, when all of a sudden I had the strangest sensation, I experienced my nose. Seriously, I experienced my nose for the first time! I wasn’t looking at it, or touching it; I was feeling it within me. That’s the best and only way I can describe it. I sensed it in me, it was neither large nor small, long or thin, it was just perfect. It felt like perfection!
     When I arrived home, I raced indoors and excitedly grabbed a pen and my notebook and wrote:

I sat contemplating the day and was feeling very smug with myself. I couldn’t help thinking that I was making great progress and I could soon be near to completing the training.
     Just then the telephone rang. It was a friend of mine whom I had not spoken to for a while. We got chatting and started to catch up on things and then she began to tell me about a mutual friend of ours and what she had been saying about me behind my back. It was not nice to hear. How could a so-called friend say such things? I was furious. When the call came to an end I was livid. What right has she to judge me? Who is she to say those things? All of these questions were running through my mind.
     All night I tossed and turned. I was having imaginary conversations with the so-called friend. I was so upset I couldn’t sleep. I also questioned why my other friend felt the need to tell me; did she also think those things about me? She knew it would hurt; why tell me, what was her motive? All of my training seemed to go out of the window - it was of no importance to me in this situation. I was too angry. Forget about loving all people, I wanted to throttle them both!
The following morning, I got up still angry and ready to fight (metaphorically of course). I switched on the computer as normal and the following message was in my inbox:

As I sat and drank my coffee, I contemplated the e-mail. The words were like an arrow hitting my heart. The events of the previous night just melted away from my mind. There was nothing I needed to do.
 
The Barefoot Indian
Julia Heywood
Published by O-Books
ISBN 1-84694-040-0
£7.99 GBP
$16.95 US