by Erin Moore
Medium Joao’s current room is a long blue and white cement meditation room with a large padded chair for the Medium up front surrounded by crystals that stand two and three feet tall. I am directed to one of the wooden church benches that line the two sides of the hall. I choose a place toward the back. I sit behind a tall woman in white. We are all in white so that the Entities, disincarnate spirits (we are all spirits), can read our auras better. I like this post directly behind the tall head of hair so that I can periodically glance surreptitiously at the room the Medium and his white-suited phalange. I position my notebook and pen by my side for random thoughts, take off my glasses, close my eyes and embark on our new meditation “The Magic School Bus,” channeled to Ron Perris from the Entities. This session might be 4-5 hours of silent meditation (except for the rather loud music that the Entities chose for this morning – cowboy spirituals in Portuguese with guitar and maracas). I hone down to begin inviting family, friends and not yet friends on to my bus. I am to invite and embrace them into my space. Suddenly my lady protector in front of me lets out a large rumbling belch that appeared to start in her bowels. After the second one in a row I opened my eyes with a jerk and the 2nd time line was all staring in our direction. The woman to her right had been fussing all morning (all half hour so far). She wore a white windbreaker worn backwards over her shirt, sweater, long pants, etc. As she squirmed she sounded like the ship’s sails were being hoisted. I go to make a note in my notebook when I notice that my pen won’t write – it is the Entities, I am sure, not liking my meditative “automatic writing.”
I settle back to my bus meditation, my yoga meditation, back to the bus, I peak out my eyes, I try to write again… and then I remember that Grainne told us that sometimes we just need a change and it is alright to go to the bathroom. I wait some more, “go inside,” I prod myself. The man behind me with his bald shiny head and painted eyebrows sits like a Buddha in silence. He must be following the rules and keeping his eyes closed; I hope he is not witnessing my transgressions. Back to the bus when suddenly the lady in front of me erupts again – two more volcanic belches. (I have since learned that these are sacred belches as the medium takes up negative energy from the room and has to then get rid of it). That does it for me. Keeping my eyes to the floor in perfect piety I tiptoe out, whisper to Diego I have to go to the bathroom and escape. Thank you Grainne.