France 3- Captivated by the Pristine Pyrenees and Blossoming of the Children Sept. 5-Sept. 26, 2006

Dear Family and Friends,
As we prepare to leave France, let me give a quick overview of where we have been in France. After arriving on the ferry in Roscoff, we made our way to Carnac in the south of Brittany for about 10 days (written about in our France 1 blog). Then we headed to Mont St. Michel, a spectacular church built on a small island surrounded by the tides coming in and out, known as the largest or most spectacular change of tide in the world. And it is all situated on a site of very powerful earth energy. Then we headed to the Normandy coast that Icasiana wrote about in France 2. On our way to Chartres and Paris we stopped in Lemans and saw the Cathedral there. The Lemans Cathedral is the most beautiful and magnificent masterpiece that I (Gabriel) saw of all the churches and buildings we have seen. Of course it too is built on a place of powerful earth energy as all the old churches are. After stationing ourselves in Chartres, we visited the cathedral there but were not able to walk the labyrinth that is only open on Friday. Then we went to Paris on Sunday, a low traffic day, to see the Eiffel tower, and visit the Lourve and Musee D’Orsay museums. Back in Chartres we headed to the south of France, proceeding slowly and visiting dolmens and other ancient sites along the way. Through the rain we reached the Pyrenees and stayed there a luscious week. There we walked along the Compestella route and went to Lourdes. From the Pyrenees in the Southwest of France we have proceeded east to Annecy to then enter Switzerland through Geneva. Here’s the inner story of our last 2 weeks in France.
To get to our most up to date info go to our blog site at: www.oursacredjourney.blogspot.com or check our web site at: www.gabriel-icasiana.com.

Magical France – Power Over Us

Majestic views, magical stones, magnificent food, and very kind people. We just don’t want to leave France. The transformative events that have occurred with our family have been powerful and have shifted us at the very core. We made the conscious decision to take each day slowly and follow spirit; to allow that which will unfold instead of making a steadfast itinerary to follow … This slow dance has brought us through many small towns and small campsites throughout northern France. Our van does not like to go over 60 mph, so we are required to drive at a slower pace, and it has suited us very well. We are able to go through the country roads, soak up the beauty of the majestic fields, take pictures, and glide through the druid forests and feel how alive it is here. Yesterday, Gabriel, Elijah and I went to Le Mans Cathedral. It was stunning. Over the years from 1080 to 1400 there were 7 major reconstructions of this megalithic cathedral that kept adding to its glory and surprisingly to its beauty. What an amazing masterpiece. Kate and Matt had asked to stay at the campsite since they wanted to work on the gift they were creating for Elijah’s first birthday. It’s a totem stick. They found the lovely piece of wood at Le Menhir De La Roche in Gorron – a perfect stick found near the sacred stones. We believe Elijah will be able to reconnect to the energy of the land by touching his totem. Gabriel took them to the store and they bought a rasp and sanding paper to shape it and create a smooth finish. They have been collecting special pieces to add to the stick, crystals, feathers, stones, acorns, and other magical pieces that will catch Elijah’s eyes. We’re all contributing small precious items to complement it.

Chartres – Labyrinth Dead End
We are now headed toward Chartres, Paris, eventually to the south of France in the Pyrenees to the town of Oloran, and wherever else we are led to stop. Gabriel had been to Chartres many years ago and marveled at the labyrinth at the Cathedral in Chartres. He was not able to walk the labyrinth his first time there, so we look forward to all walking its magical path. I have never had the opportunity to walk on a labyrinth before. I have a sense that it will be transformative to walk through it in a meditative trance and be led, led closer to God. Well, as fate would have it, the only day the labyrinth is open is on Fridays. Unfortunately we arrived into town on Sunday and didn’t want to wait another six days to walk around the labyrinth. Se la vie!

Driving through the Rain to the Pyrenees
Yesterday was a difficult day. (This is Gabriel at the writing board again). We were driving from our campsite in Limoges, France and heading south to the Pyrenees, to the town of Toulouse. It was to be about a 4 hour drive to Toulouse, and when we started out it began raining. It continued to rain the whole day. This van we have is not particularly easy to drive in good conditions, but in a continual rain, it is very difficult and stressful. The defroster works, albeit the defroster is me wiping a towel across the windshield, every 45 seconds. There are leaks that come in various places that include under my feet and under my wife’s feet. The wind was blowing something fierce and at times throwing our not very sea worthy vehicle port and starboard. We finally arrive in Toulouse about 4 hours later, but we’ve arrived at rush hour and it is a big city. The traffic is horrendous and getting through and around the city is not so easy. Icasiana wants to stay in Toulouse and I want to get out. Usually I will consider her desires and discuss it together, but in this situation, I’m driving, so we’re leaving. As we continue we look at a campsite, but it looks like a ghetto campsite, very high security with metal fences and sliding gates – probably maximum security. It did not feel very good so we left and continued looking for a place to stay. This brought back memories of a rainy night in Greece when all the motels we looked at were full and we ultimately stayed in the van, but that van was not designed for sleeping. That was a memorable and most difficult night, and I will spare you any more details. I think I said that last time. I decide to park the van nearby where there is a creek and a pond so my wife can cook dinner and then proceed through the outskirts of the city when rush hour congestion is finished. While Icasiana cooks, I take the baby for a walk. While in the van he is fussing and squirming around, as soon as I take him outside, he quiets down and focuses on what’s around. He is entranced and happy, and it is raining. We sit together and watch the water by the pond, marveling together. When we return to the van, Matt and Kate are still inside. Here is Daddy and baby outside in the rain, while the young buck and buckette are inside. What’s wrong with this picture? They remedy the situation and go outside to play basketball together. Icasiana finishes cooking and the kids are still playing, so we eat together. The meal is wonderful, salmon with rice and soup. Have I mentioned how good the food is in France, how fresh and wholesome and how deliciously my wife cooks it all up? Anyway, when I finish I go to get the kids, and Matt is in a funk. Kate is happy. She already had her funk in the morning, after which I assigned her a writing assignment about “what is more important, human relationships or the things that we own”. When she wrote that assignment, she had a very emotional response and a healing. She gained a significant insight into herself and her attachment to material things that left her feeling uplifted. Later in the day it would be Matt’s turn to receive his bitter medicine. We call it this because it is bitter to face these kinds of things, but it is medicine that helps us to heal and grow.

Basketball and Another Life Lesson
Matt and Kate had been playing basketball and Matt had gotten very discouraged when he didn’t play as well as he would have liked, to the point that he was distraught. He didn’t want to come back for dinner because the voices in his head were telling him how worthless he was. Aah, the tricks that our mind plays on us when we don’t feel good about ourselves. We had a talk, and he was not ready to shift. We all let him be where he was without pushing him. He was able to shift on his own later after being with his little brother Elijah, and seeing how much Elijah loved him unconditionally. By the time the kids got back to the van to eat dinner and we had driven off again, it had taken much longer than planned and now it was dark. Now the driving became treacherous for me. We looked at a couple of motels and they were all booked up. So we continued. We finally got out of the city area, but there were no places to stay anymore. So we kept driving into the teeth of the rain, me barely able to see the road and other cars. At one point, there had been an accident and traffic was closed to one lane. As we drove through I was about to defrost the window and didn’t see the gendarme (policeman) who was directing the traffic and was right in the road in front of me. When I finally did see him I reacted intensely and was able to steer away from him safely and into the lane to the right without incident. I had been going slowly so it was not a sudden or severe turn, but it was upsetting to my passengers, especially my wife who has asked to remain nameless for this part of the story. As the evening drive continued, the stress level seemed to increase in the car, and the comments for safe driving directed towards me seemed to increase and to my ears sounded very shrill. My wife was not feeling safe while I was feeling unfairly questioned, harshly spoken to, and getting more than a bit perturbed. I was feeling less tolerant than usual, and was not appreciating her helpful comments. At first I thought my wife was reliving a past life and thought she was speaking to someone other than her present husband. After one comment that was particularly irksome to this writer, I told my wife, “Why don’t you drive?” She didn’t particularly appreciate that suggestion. We were able to clear it in the middle of the night upon my prompting and come back to a loving space. Well you know, we humans do struggle sometimes. Everyone got a chance to have their turn on this day including me. Very soon, the next day, I was shown that I needed to be a little more humble about receiving recommendations when I clipped a parked car when I was parking next to it, as my wife was telling me to watch out for that car. The damage was very slight, there were no dents and their car could be buffed out. Fortunately this lesson was more of a whisper than a loud shout. Life can be very humbling. As it turned out, after all the rain, and the continued rain and the lateness, we treated ourselves to a motel room for the night for only the second time in two months. We have been camping during this time. Earlier in the journey we were in motel rooms every night, now it was out of the ordinary and a treat. We woke up the next morning to a beautiful sunny day and could revel in the fact that we had arrived in the foothills of the Pyrenees Mountains.

Ascending on the Pyrenees
That sunny morning quickly turned, and it rained on us for a total of three days. Boy were we wet. A highlight was going to the Laundromat and watching our clothes drying in the dryer. Life is different on the road, in a van, with three kids. What was I thinking? No, you know I’m just kidding. Aren’t I dear?


When it did finally clear, it was majestic. The air was so fresh, the colors of the grass and trees and mountains were so brilliant, it was like everything was glowing. We had been introduced to friends of Kim’s (from Hereford in England), Harriet, her husband Jean Jacques and their two daughters, Alice and Matilda. They took us hiking along the Aspe River, which runs along the pilgrimage route called the Santiago Compestella Route. We shared a wonderful day together and over this time developed a nice rapport. Jean Jacques has a strong affinity and appreciation for the natural world and when he told us of his connection with the pixies (or nature spirits as we know them), the momentum really picked up and we felt right at home.

Lourdes – A Vision to Behold
We were very excited to visit Lourdes, the sight where Mother Mary appeared to a young girl named Bernadette who was removing her shoes to cross over the river. She became St. Bernadette after Mother Mary had appeared to her several times, the first being when she was 14 years old in 1861. The site is a grotto next to the river, where a natural spring sprung up after Mother Mary appeared and still provides pristine water for those who come to Lourdes. The day broke with wetness on the ground, and a pure clearness that had the sun shining through the wetness leaving everything aglow. The drive over was gorgeous with the Pyrenees mountains rising in the background and the Gave Pau (river that flows from the Pyrenees) following us along. We took our time meandering on the country roads and letting the day build. We made a stop at a dolmen along the way, it was a stunning time of the day, crystal clear all around, and of course, like all of the stone places, it was on a place where strong earth currents are present. As we looked and saw the dolmen and felt around it, I was struck with the idea that they were much more than a burial site as they have been described. What I was receiving was that they are portals between this world and the spirit world, and that instead of their importance being as burial sites, they are places of transition for those dying. These stone sites are built on places of power, where the spirits are more accessible, and where it is easier to connect to the other side. This would be an important insight in light of what was to come later in the day. For that I will give the computer pen over to Icasiana.

Stones Help in Preparation
As we left the Dolmen site, I (Icasiana) heard a voice tell me clearly that much would be revealed while we are at Lourdes. It was Mother Mary’s voice, kind and reassuring, but very clear that my life’s work would be shown to me at the Grotto of Lourdes. I had been to Lourdes 12 years before – Kate was a baby at the time. I was so excited to return to Lourdes with my family this time. I wanted to be fully prepared to receive any messages about my path. I didn’t mention anything to Gabriel about what I had heard at the Dolmen, I just wanted to see what unfolded at Lourdes.

Lourdes – the Faithful and the Faith-sellers
Lourdes is a bit of a dichotomy. On one hand, it’s an extremely holy site, not only because Mother Mary appeared to Bernadette several times there, or that it embodies such delicious natural beauty – a backdrop of the majestic Pyrenees mountains blanketed with green grass and evergreen trees, but it also rests in line with some very powerful earth energy lines. On the other hand, it’s a bizarre tourist trap. Many star hotels from one to five stars, restaurants flashing neon signs of their special meals. Souvenir shops selling everything from cheap plastic Mother Mary bottles for the holy water, to Rosary Beads the size of Texas, and every other religious doodad you can think of. Coming through that part of Lourdes I close my eyes and walk past the stalls very quickly to get to the Grotto.

Final Preparation Through Prayer
Throughout the day, I had been consciously breathing deeply to clear my body. I even, to Kate’s dismay, played the OM sounds of the Dalai Lama. She wanted to hear George Harrison, but I knew the Dalai Lama chanting was what I needed. Before we went in, we said a prayer, burned sage and set our intention for the visit to this holy site. As I was walking down the pathway, past the shops and hotels, I started feeling such a connection to all the people I came in contact with. I was pushing Elijah on his Pram (stroller) and people would smile and nod, or say Bon Jour. I would return the pleasantry, but it was deeper than that. Each person I connected with eye contact, I had a strange sense that I knew them. I felt a great preparation by God and a physical connectedness to spirit and to all other beings.

Enveloped by Sadness
As soon as we arrived into the square, I am struck with deep sadness and sorrow and I start crying as I watch the people and hear the music that is guiding a procession of people with maladies, and their caretakers. First I see the infirmed people on stretchers, being wheeled at the front of the procession, then in wheelchairs and other small blue carts, some kind of wheel chair from the hospital, there were hundreds of people, both with illness and nurses and caretakers as well as priests and nuns, supporting these people in their desire for a healing. There were people from many countries, France, Italy, America, Portugal, Africa and many others that I couldn’t see their name tags with the country noted. Many come on a pilgrimage; others come as individuals seeking a healing. It is said there are spontaneous healings that occur – people leaving their crutches or wheel chairs after going through the procession, or being touched by the holy water from the Grotto. I didn’t personally witness any, but I did see some amazing lightness come from people’s faces as they walked through the procession and touched the wet stones of the Grotto which has holy water streaming down from it.

I believe my sadness came from a deep knowing of being with someone so very ill and feeling the desperation for getting well in the caretakers and the infirmed. The desire to be healed, the desperation to be healed – this feeling was so strong at this site, it overwhelmed me. Some of these people looked like they were literally on their death beds their faces appeared twisted and desperate and filled with pain. I wondered if they were expecting a physical healing, or if they would find peace in their hearts to let go of this physical world and transition into the spirit world of eternity. The kids, looked at me quizzically, but then realized they’d seen me many times in this state, and just walked beside me while I pushed Elijah. Gabriel, who totally supports me, was there to hug me when I needed one, or place his healing hands on me so I could go deeper into the trance.

Our First Walk through the Grotto
The line to walk through the Grotto was extremely long, and the guides hurry the pilgrims along the pathway. There are many helpers along the way who assist people to go to the front of the line if they are in wheel chairs. Well, when they saw us pushing Elijah on the pram, they asked us to follow them. This kind man made a path through the hundreds of people by asking them to move aside as we went to the front of the line. At first I was pretty pleased by getting to the front of the line, but then I realized that as you walk along the stones, there are many crevices and chasms in the stones that have amazing energy emanating from them, and those we missed as we moved quickly by. When I turned the corner where the Grotto is, I was nearly knocked over, I felt very dizzy and spacey. The energy was immense and intense. I had been here before, 12 years earlier, but never like this – I was a tourist then, today I was on a mission.

My Affinity of Mother Mary
I have had an affinity for Mother Mary my entire life. Even through the years that I left the Catholic Church, I always held a special place in my heart for Mother Mary. In the past few years she has come to me through her voice and images. I look forward to her voice and the messages she gives me – I trust her implicitly as she reflects the voice of God, in the feminine form. I had a strong feeling that once I walked through the Grotto and was able to still my mind and body, I would be hearing from her. Well, it took about an hour of sitting; I needed to breast feed Elijah, drink lots of water, breathe deeply, receive an adjustment from Gabriel, and then finally, I reached a place of stillness.

Messages from Above, Beyond, and Through the Veil
The first image I saw was a large oval table with several people sitting at it. The people in transcended form and sitting in the seats of prominence were Mother Mary, St. Francis of Assisi and Padre Pio, Mother Mary was in the center. There were also six “human” beings present, that I recognized, including me and Gabriel. We were being told about our life’s work and what we need to learn before we could continue. I was shown a man in Italy namely “Oberto” that would be able to provide us information and training on death and dying, while assisting those making the transition. He would teach us what happens to the body before and after death, what the transitions are, and how these stages need to be cared for and honored and how to hold space for the passage into the spirit world. The next scene was at a conference that I was speaking at about my experiences of assisting those who had made the transition. In this scene I was speaking to hundreds of people, caretakers, healers, medical personnel and sick people. I was telling the story of our preparation before Mark’s passage, Kate and Matt’s father. (I have written this account called “Mark’s Passage” which can be accessed from a link on our website at www.gabriel-icasiana.com, go to the travel update on France 3). Gabriel spoke next about the passage of his father and how he was able to hold space for his family and for his father during his transition. Our work was traveling around the world, speaking about the transition and teaching people how to hold sacred space for the person making their passage in an honoring way.

After my trance, I asked Gabriel about the person named Oberto. He said that there is a man at Damanhur, one of the places we are planning to visit in Italy that has studied the transition of life, and has written a book on death and dying. His name is Oberto Auraldi. We will see if we can study with him on the subject of death and dying and will be grateful for whatever insights he can provide us on this important work of shifting from being afraid of dying and avoiding it to honoring the process and holding space for those making the transition.

Blossoming of the Children
One key part of this trip that must be told is the transformation of Matt and Kate. Icasiana and I dealt with a lot of resistance and upset, especially in the beginning of the journey. They both expressed their extreme displeasure, many times, (and at especially irritating moments) about being forced to go on this trip and being taken away from their friends. In addition to this displeasure often directed our way, we were dealing with old patterns of hurtful ways of communicating and acting out, and disrespect toward their parents (or parental guardian as I am often reminded by Kate as to what I am). I’m sure many parents in America, and probably Britain, can relate to what I am referring to.

Matt started calling me “Dad”, on his own choosing. That was a turning point. This said to me that he was trusting me to guide him and that he accepted me in the role of father. And he calls me dad even when he’s pissed off about how I may be challenging him.

Matt’s breakthrough was expressed by him in a recent writing that moved many of our friends to tears because of his amazing revelations and emotional honesty. We are continually amazed at his insights and willingness to keep exploring this terrain. We still also deal with hurtful behavior, and go through conflict as we call him out to look at his actions. Later, he has often come forward and acknowledged how he needs to work on these areas. He keeps healing and inspiring even as he is still a 12 year old, acting like a 12 year old, learning how to deal with frustrations that are a part of life. Kate recently had a major breakthrough herself. It was not as dramatic as what Matt’s looked like, but it was a profound shift for her in her being willing to wake up to patterns she has been controlled by that have been destructive to her and hurtful to those around her. Her path to recovery has been slower as she has been in severe shock since her father died over 2 years ago. She has been angry and sad under the surface, and her confidence and stability has been shattered. Her willingness to reflect about her shattered confidence and why she is so influenced by others was a profound awakening for her. It came after she and I had a long talk about her taking responsibility for her actions and realizing she is the creator of her life. When she acknowledged her fears, a doorway opened for her and she has shifted from resisting to trying to do her best. As this journey has continued, Icasiana and I have marveled at how the children have been willing to be vulnerable and confront what has been difficult to confront. As deep healing has occurred, there has been a joy and a harmony in the family that is so cherished. Did I mention that there have been many confrontations and challenges in this area along the way? There still are, but the level that we function at has risen and risen. This one-year journey has been such a blessing in so many ways, and in family relations it has been huge. We continue to thank creator for the abundance and the opportunity to be on this amazing journey into our souls.

Leaving the Pyrenees and onto Damanhur in Italy
We were so glad we had gone out of our way to come to the Pyrenees. It has been pristine, magical, and inspiring. We had been taken to the ancient Compestella pilgrimage route, we had made a wonderful connection with Harriet and Jean Jacque’s family, and we had felt inspired by being in the presence of the mountains, rivers and valleys. Driving back to the east of France was a bit of a let down. Now we saw a lot of trash along the roadsides, many industrial complexes, and a bit rougher. We were now leaving France feeling so grateful for our time here. We were crossing the south of France through Montpelier, and then up to Annecy, to then head into Switzerland, the land of the Alps. After Switzerland we will head to Italy to see Florence, Rome, Venice, Tuscany, Assisi, and of course Turin the nearby city to Damanhur. I (Gabriel) had visited Damanhur once 5 years ago and had been so inspired by what Damanhur embodies through their vision and demonstration of what is possible to create in this world. Check out their web site www.damanhur.org. They are guided by spiritual principles, not religious doctrine. They are forward thinking and presence oriented, creating artistic masterpieces, all in the service of the divine. Damanhur is a model of a sustainable eco-society; it is a group of people working to inspire the creation of a better future.

Matt’s 12th Birthday
Matt recently turned 12 on this trip. I am so proud of how he has had an expansive awakening, an igniting of the essence of him that I had seen in him when he was first born. He had been shrouded in judgment and shame by his father’s perceptions of him. The change in Matt has been remarkable in the past 2 years since his father died when he was nine. He has had a positive male role model in Gabriel, which has made his journey to healing so much faster and deeper. We will be in Spain by November, Matt’s birthplace (as well as Kate’s). It will be wonderful to remember this place and the time of his birth. Matt was born at Rota, at the US Naval Hospital near Santa Maria (the place where Columbus’s voyage began). We celebrated Matt’s birthday with toasts and prayers. Matt spoke of the changes in his life and what he hopes for the future. Truly powerful medicine for all of us.

Thanks to all of you who took time to write to Matt. He has been reading all the e-mails and has been encouraged by the support he has received. God bless you all.
Bon Soirre.

Letter to Elijah on his 1st Birthday
Dear Elijah,
Just the idea of writing to you on your first year I find myself feeling so emotional. I am in awe of the spirit of you, little boy. I am in awe of how you move through life, of your pure heart and how you are so full of joy and passion. You express yourself very clearly, it is very easy to know what you want. It is amazing to see how you are a magnet for good things, of drawing people’s heart open as they come into your presence. There is a sweetness about you, you have a deep awareness of what goes on around you and an ability to relate to people on a soul level.

You express total joy and you just are. When you look at me, it is with total presence. Whatever you do it is with total presence. Your soul whispers to me of your future- as a person connected to creator and your soul’s purpose.

There are certain tendencies you have that have shown themselves already. If we are inside you may be crying, as soon as we go outside the crying stops. You express such rapture when you are in the natural world. Your whole being comes alive, you will be shaking your body and moving in rhythm and dancing on your daddy’s shoulders as you revel in feeling and connecting with the life around you.

You show yourself also to have quite a natural passion for music. If I am playing the piano you become quite insistent about getting your chance to join in. You reach for the keys and push me aside. I can only laugh and marvel at what is so obvious.

This journey is not what we thought it was going to be. Icasiana and I thought we were going to visit sacred sites around the world. Actually we’re just the custodians to take you to these sites so that you can be fed by these mysterious places of power and wisdom. We thought we were taking you on this trip, it’s turned out that you have been taking us. It has been such a joy to carry you around to all these places and have you sing your sweet songs into my ear.

You are whole, there is no break in your connection with the creator. Everything about you is luminous. I feel so honored to be able to be in the role of father to you. I’m willing to be the booster rocker for you, to help you get out of the atmosphere till you can guide your own life. I believe you will go much further than I can imagine.

Being father to you has been the crowning of this life for me, it has caused me to live through my heart and I feel my soul pulsing through my life. My hope for you is that your connection with source is maintained and that you are able to grow with that intact. My dream for you is not about what job or profession you have, or about what you may accomplish, my dream for you is that you continue to live through your heart, that you touch all living beings from your soul, and that you have the freedom to explore as your spirit directs you. May your life be soul directed.

I just want you to know that you just being you gives me such joy.

Your loving father, Gabriel

My Life Changing Experience

Matt Mosenthine, age 11
Written in August, 2006, just before my 12th birthday


Finally we are out of England and in France, but before I start journaling for France, I will write a closing to England. England to me was not just another country I have been to but more of a re-birthplace for me. I have had many awakenings in this small country known as Britain. Merlin (a new friend I met in Hereford) acted as a match that set a new flame to my fire, spirituality, and somehow, this flame set free my inner self, my real self. This flame also burned away my materialistic and judging sides. Of course, Merlin, a 14-year-old rock-loving hippie has no idea of his influences on me, although he knew he taught me not to care what people thought of me. This was the most important step, I realize now that before I had a fear of what people thought of me, whether good judgment or bad. If anyone did judge me I wanted to know, and I would change myself to match the standards of that person. Each time I changed another layer of fake goes over me and after a while I became almost totally plastic, and if this went on more and more, I believe my real self deep down in my heart would simply disappear and I would be living as a slave to judgment. The reason this was the most important step was because I could never be myself if I worried what people thought of me. Of course it still hurts when I see people pointing and laughing at me but that is because I am still a newborn, I am new to my real self. I think all of my eleven years of life was just a detour off of my life’s path, and now I am taking the A-30 freeway back to my true self.

All of these layers weren’t just from kids at school but within my own family as well. My father was very abusive both verbally and physically, both acts were very hurtful. I cannot recall exact events for it was a long time ago but I remember him always calling me stupid, an idiot, and a pervert. Of course at my age then I did not know what a pervert was, but I knew it was bad. After a while I knew exactly what he wanted from me and I changed myself to meet his standards. Well, tried too. It seemed the more I changed, the more my dad disliked me. Eventually I found out what a pervert was and felt lower than low. I had no idea why he would use a word like that on me, what did I do to deserve such abuse?

I felt more like a puppet than a human, without emotions and only feeling pain and self-pity. I did have many happy times but the excitement of these times were shaded over by hate by the next day. The few hours a day my mom was home I was by her side the whole time and for this my name went from pervert to sympathy seeker or mama’s boy in a mocking way. My mom was always telling me that the reason he treated me like this was because he was sick and when he got better, he would treat me better. Now my life revolved around my father’s well being, it seemed like my only hope. Every wishbone I broke, every birthday candle I blew out, and every dandelion I stepped on my wish was “please help my daddy to get better”. This hypnotized me, thinking he was going to get better, but deep down in my heart I knew his time was running out.

The night he died when Kate and I visited him in the hospital I held his hand and told him I loved him. A tear ran down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away and forced myself not to cry. I always remember him telling me when I was crying that he never cried when he was a kid and that I was a wussy. So now when he was dying and I was standing next to him I held back the natural flow of tears. He saw this and gave my hand a gentle squeeze that indicated that it was okay for me to cry. Right at that moment I forgave him for everything. This little gesture told me that he was sorry, he loved me, and that I was always a good son. I felt a huge load lifted off of my shoulders and I began to cry. The next morning when I woke up my mom told me that my dad died in his bed at two o’clock in the morning. I cried but soon covered it up and acted as if nothing had happened. This was very unhealthy and put me in the place I was before England.

Gabriel has been very helpful to me by helping me explore myself without judging me and giving me the space to practice my beliefs spiritually. I am honored to have him in my family, although sometimes it wouldn’t seem like that because sometimes we have disagreements, although that is normal, I suppose.

Another big force in my life was the recognition of Jah the Rastafarian god. This came shortly after I was able to be myself and able to practice my beliefs without a care of other peoples’ judgments. It is impossible for me to follow the flow of the modern church with the idea that any other religion won’t get into heaven and with constant wars between religions for power. My father was baptized Christian and my stepfather Bar Mitzvah’d and is Jewish, I felt a pull towards neither Christianity nor Judaism so I chose the way of the lion, Rastafarian, which ended up to be a mixture of both without the modern insanity. Most people when they hear of the Rastafarian religion, all they think of it is a bunch of dreadlocked guys smoking cannabis and getting high. Yes, smoking cannabis might be a part of the religion, but not the only feature. The true Rastafarians use the medicine to go deeper into meditation; some don’t even smoke it at all. I myself can go into a meditation state with a stick of incense and the feeling of Jah all around me, in the earth, in the sky, in the trees, in the sun, and most important of all, in me. Although I am not following the exact path of the Rastafarian, I am allowed to have my own beliefs.

At first I didn’t want to write this, not in fear of the response from all my friends and family, but more of a worry of its outcome. I was worried that I wasn’t going to speak the truth and my feelings, because I had never really done it before. Writing this was kind of like a healing for me, all of this coming from my heart and soul. This story helped me get over emotions locked away from my father and I would like to say it feels really good to let out the truth. You may think I am stupid for writing what I did, you may think I am such a retard for putting myself out in the world like I did, you may even think I am gay for sharing my feelings and emotions with you, but one thing is for certain, I am what I am and nothing else is going to change me.

France 2 – D-Day Reunion 62 Years Later-Sept 1-4, 2006

Dearest Family and Friends,
This was a difficult entry for me (Icasiana) to publish as it exposes so much of me that I wasn’t even aware of until now. I had asked Creator if I really needed to publish it, and was told “yes, because this will help others who are afraid to speak out about their experiences that are not easily understood and are ‘outside of the box.’” It is scary to venture in these realms and I believe there is healing in being this vulnerable. I continue to marvel how this journey keeps tapping us for more; more healing, more opening, more courage, and ultimately more expansion.
I thank Gabriel for his adventuresome spirit to ride the course with me and support me in such an amazing way for my soul’s evolution. I thank Kate and Matt for trusting me, and I thank Elijah for just being. I thank all our friends and family for sharing this journey with us, vicariously and through our thoughts and prayers.
To get to our most up to date info go to our blog site at: www.oursacredjourney.blogspot.com or check our web site at: www.gabriel-icasiana.com




Normandie Revisited, In This Lifetime
Goosebumps coursed through my body and erupted on my skin as I studied the map while looking for our next destination in France. As soon as I realized how close we were to Normandie, the more I realized I had to go back. Strange, I had never been to France before, in this life, but I was to come to the realization that my life had ended on June 6, 1944, D-Day. I had told Gabriel that there is a very strange and strong pull for me to go there. I didn’t know why I had to go there or why I was feeling so emotional, but I was very sure I had to go there. Gabriel said, “well let’s go.” As we got closer to Utah Beach, Gabriel could see the emotional effect of this return on me, and he asked if I had had a previous life here. I just nodded yes. The strange occurrence of the previous days was starting to make sense. Several days earlier when we got to the Normandie region and visited Le-Mont St. Michel, I started feeling extreme pain in my left shoulder blade, close to my spine; it also restricted the movement of my neck. Pain would shoot through me and when Gabriel would work on me, it would free up for a while, but then it would return. At first I thought it was from sleeping cramped up in the van, but intuitively I knew it was something deeper. I literally asked my body what it was trying to show me; I asked, what lessons must I learn through this pain. The answer came soon after asking.

Ascent on Utah Beach
Once we started our two-hour drive from Le-Mont St. Michel toward Utah Beach, more information started coming to me. The hair on the back of my neck would rise up when I would think of why I was having flash backs to 1944 and why I was feeling such an affinity in this life for the French people, as I really didn’t have any exposure to many French people before. As we drove, images starting flooding my mind, these were images of me in Army fatigues running off the US Boat toward the shore. The weather was rainy and dreary and there was a high wind. I was struggling carrying all the radio equipment and supplies on my back. I was thrilled reaching the beach without being shot. I was so loaded down that I was moving quite slowly when I heard my buddy call me from behind. He had been shot. In my mind I didn’t want to head back because I would be exposed to German gunfire. My orders had been to run to the beach and get up the hill and “do not turn back.” But I was not able to leave him behind when I heard him call my name, “Bobby”. I made a split decision, against orders from my commander, and trudged back to my fallen buddy James. He had been hit badly and blood was gushing from his neck. By the time I arrived by his side he was nearly dead. Then a shot from high above sounded and it came toward me. Now I was hit. I could feel the bullet ripping through all the equipment I was carrying, but I felt it as if it was in slow motion. I thought the equipment was going to save me, but no, the bullet ripped through my left shoulder, near my spine. I doubled over James and we looked at one another with the look of death. I knew I would die, I just didn’t know when, but I definitely knew my time was coming. I held James as he spat blood and gasped his last few breaths. It comforted him a little to die with me, his buddy. For that I was pleased.

My Fascination with D-Day
In this life, I have always had a fascination with D-Day and the invasion of Normandy. I found that strange as I have never been one to have the desire to learn or speak about war, but inexplicably D-Day held a spell over me. When I watched the movie Platoon many years ago when the PT boats landed on the shore and all the soldiers were basically slaughtered even before they hit the sand, I had a visceral reaction, so much more intense and personal than just from seeing the images on the screen. I felt like I knew those guys. I somehow knew what they were going through.

I have a dear friend, John Allard, who fought at the Battle of the Bulge in France. He and his twin brother were both sent over to fight. When I first met him, I just adored him and his wife Betty (who has since passed on). I started asking him about his life and he shared his experience about the war. I found it so fascinating and yes, even familiar. He had said that when he fought in the battle, nearly all of the men from his squadron were killed. A knowing chill ran through my body when he told me this and now a chill runs through my body as I remember this today.

French Angels Rescue Me
I didn’t die on Omaha beach where I landed and where I was shot. James died, but I was rescued at dusk by a wonderful French family who risked their lives by sneaking onto the beaches past the German guards to rescue any survivors they could find after a day of gruesome war. They didn’t care what uniform the person was wearing. They cared about saving people’s lives, at the risk of their own. They drug me off of James and then removed my radio equipment and supplies and laid them on the beach. Then they drug me closer to the rocks to avoid the German soldiers from seeing us. Once they got me near the rocks, I was carried, quite roughly for what seemed like many miles, up a huge hill and over pastures and fields. The woman, Marie, was telling her husband, Henri, in French that I had lost quite a bit of blood and I needed to lay flat or I would surely die. It’s odd that I was able to understand their conversation even though I don’t believe I could speak French. I can only imagine that I was close to death and had begun to pass through the veil with expanded awareness, where language is not such a barrier. Finally, he stopped and laid me down in a field. I knew we were near a church as I could hear the bells toll. I was grateful to hear the bells, and glad to still be alive. Marie cradled my head while Henri looked at my wounds and I could tell by the shocked look on his face, I wasn’t going to last much longer. I was in excruciating pain, I didn’t have to say a word, he just knew. He took out a bottle of whiskey and let me drink some. Marie cradled my head and spoke to me in French. It was like a lullaby. Her voice was lovely and kind and she then started to sing. I knew this was the end. I was so grateful that I was not left on the beach, piled with all the others who lost their lives. I drifted off quietly, feeling love and gratitude that I died in the arms of these courageous and compassionate French souls.

The Church Bells Toll
We drove the van out to Utah Beach and the hair on the back of my neck was prickly and my neck felt that electricity of remembrance. Gabriel asked me if this was the beach and I told him no. The beach I was at had German soldiers perched on a hill and there were stones near the shore. This beach was completely flat with only the sand and long grassy fields. It was surreal to see this beach now looking so calm and peaceful, knowing it was the site of such horror so many years ago. I started to doubt myself and wondered if I had just imagined the whole story. As we stood there the weather began to turn; the wind started to pick up and the rain started to come, simulating the weather of that day and further igniting my memory of the treachery that had occurred 62 years ago. Soon after we drove into the town of Saint Marie du Mont, just up the road from Utah Beach; we went on the roundabout and I heard the church bells toll and time stopped for me. I knew those bells. Those were the bells. The sound reverberated through time. Just across from the church was a Museum that was called the Musee de Occupation, and even at this late hour of 6:30 p.m. it was still open. We went in and the first thing I saw was a WWII American soldier dressed in uniform. I recognized that uniform, it was the same as the one I wore.

Musee de Occupation
I asked the curator if he had a map of the beaches of Normandie and he did. He showed me the map and it showed where the US troops landed, where the British troops landed, where the Canadian troops landed, and where the other allies landed on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day 62 years ago. Utah and Omaha beaches were the 2 beaches where the US soldiers landed. Chills ran through me as I remembered I had once studied maps of these beaches, I then asked him if there was a place on the beach that had a hill, a cliff and rocks at the bottom. He said “yes!” here, and he pointed to Pointe du Hoc. That was it. I knew it. I was stunned and relieved that I had found it.

After our tour through the museum we had dinner at a nearby restaurant. Throughout the entire town there are monuments and signs of gratitude to the American people for their assistance in their liberation. Even in this restaurant there was a picture of a soldier who had returned for the 60 year anniversary of D-Day. He was pictured hugging two women. My thoughts turned to my return, 62 years later. The only difference is that I came two years later, I have another body, and I’m a woman now. Dinner was over and strangely, the wind and weather had knocked out the electricity as we left. I thought that was odd. I remembered this kind of weather from the last time and it had an eerie effect on me.

Remembrance at Pointe du Hoc

The site at Pointe du Hoc that I remember

The next morning we drove to Pointe du Hoc. There are monuments in tribute and an American flag hanging in the center of the square. I said to Gabriel, “why would the US flag be hanging here?” We soon found out that the United States had been given the 30 acres of land including Omaha Beach that they had been so instrumental in winning back. The United States had been given the honor of being responsible to care for it in perpetuity. I felt proud for a moment. I then proceeded to read about the D-Day invasion. The weather today was beautiful, blue skies, fluffy white clouds with a warm, balmy breeze, nothing like it was yesterday. As I read the placards it said that the D-Day attack was scheduled for 6:30 a.m. on June 6, 1944 but stormy weather and navigational difficulties delayed the deployment of the men on the beach by 40 minutes. This was critical and costly to many lives as the bombing brigade that preceded the soldiers landing on the beach had ended 40 minutes earlier, not just moments ago as planned. This gave the Germans time to regroup and recoil for our next assault. This is why they were ready when my squadron came.

The Casualties Were High
Two hundred and twenty five US soldiers had hit the Omaha Beach at 7:10 a.m. The Germans were ready. They killed nearly 100 of us just as we got off the boats. The remaining soldiers that did get up the cliff and hills used grappling hooks and sheer guts. When the battle was over, only 90 soldiers survived. I started crying and feeling such sadness and shame that I wasn’t one of the 90 who made it. I had lost my life along with all the other men. I wasn’t part of the glory. I was a casualty. There was a lesson for me here; I just had to wait for it to unfold.

Reminder When the Bell Tolls
We left the monument and headed towards Omaha Beach. We walked through the grassy fields and peered over the cliffs and I saw the rocks that lined the beach. This was it. These were the rocks I never made it to. I then saw the area that I had landed 62 years ago, the beach had changed over the years, the sand had diminished, but I recognized the rocks and cliffs that remained the same. We walked in a procession to this area and then made our way through bramble and nettles to an area high above the beach. From here I could see the area where Henri had carried me to safety, the place where I died in the arms of Marie. I looked in the distance and saw the church steeple that housed the bell that rang out to me all those years ago. The same bell that tolled at 6:30 p.m. when we arrived into town yesterday must have tolled near the time when I passed over. Maybe it was 6:30 p.m. the night of June 6, 1944. I don’t know, but that feels right.

Awakening to the Healing
As a family we created a ceremony on this grassy field. Gabriel burned sage and shook the rattle in a chanting trance inducing rhythm. He asked Creator through prayer for any messages that would assist me in this lifetime, and he asked for healing and integration between my lives. Once I was able to relax into the prayer I felt a great release as we sat there. I, too, asked Creator why I needed to relive this tragedy. Why was I here today, sitting in this field with my family, not as a victim, as an observer. What was the purpose of all this? I was told that this tragedy of the past was still holding me back in my current life. Even though I assisted my buddy James and my heart opened to Marie and Henri, I still held strong feelings of failure and shame. When I deployed from my boat that morning 62 years ago, all I had on my mind was the glory of what I would feel as a hero saving the land of the French people and stopping the onslaught of the Germans. Never did it occur to me that I would be shot and killed. I felt I had failed my buddies, failed the mission and failed myself. This is the residue I brought into this life and it was something I needed to clear. It is the fear of failing, deeply seated in my cellular memory. What I’ve learned in this lifetime is how the body stores the memory of traumas, fears, and everything that is not cleared, and the importance of clearing it so we can move forward and be here now.

Spirit Speaks Through My Soul
Spirit spoke to me and let me know that it was time now to let go of this fear. Many times I have not been willing to do things for fear that I may make mistakes or fail and look foolish. I realized now that there was no failure in what I had done. There was honor in dying for this cause, this was my path, and I had helped to pave the way for those that made it. I also felt reinforced to stay in my heart and keep connecting with people the way that I do. Spirit showed me that my deep connection with people comes from my ability to listen through my heart, something I had learned from Henri and Marie in that field as I lay dying. After we left and drove away from Normandy, the pain in my left shoulder and neck was totally gone. I was free and clear. I believe part of the reason I could release and heal this past event was that I didn’t feel victimized by it anymore; it felt like another stage or phase of my life that was necessary for my learning. It is through this work that my soul advances.

Gratitude for the Lessons
Another lesson I was shown was that war needs to be avoided at all cost, but if we are at war, as we are now, it is our duty to support the soldiers who are fighting. Not the policies or policy makers, but the individuals who risk their lives and who serve their country – right, wrong or indifferent. I believe there will be more lessons to come from this experience, yet already this has been truly cathartic, insightful and uplifting to have released this energy to its appropriate lifetime. I thank Creator for this gift, the catalyst for healing and expanding my divine connection.

Epilogue
As a family we spoke of my experiences and the healing that occurred when I faced it. Kate was attentive and fascinated with hearing about my past life and asked many probing questions. That night she had a very poignant dream that she’d like to share with all of us. She wrote about this as a journal entry and we are sharing it with you below:


Kate’s Dream about Normandy
When we got to Normandy, something amazing happened to mom. She realized that she had a past life here, and not really the best of lives in my opinion. She, or shall I say “he” was a U.S. soldier that came here to fight the Germans. She was one of the men that would run off of the boats to get up the hill to take back France from the Germans. Unfortunately, many were killed when they came off the boat.

As she was running off of the boat when it landed, she was determined to get to the rocks for safety and shelter from the Germans. As she was running up, keeping her eyes on nothing but the rocks, her friend James had been shot in the neck, and lay behind her. He was near death but he was calling her name. My mom just kept thinking about those rocks, and how if she turned around she would be shot too. But it was her friend and she made the choice to try to save him. So she turned, and as she reached her friend James she was shot in the left shoulder by a German soldier, by me (according to my dream anyway). In my dream I was younger than a lot of the German soldiers. I believe I was in Hitler’s youth Nazi group, I don’t know anything else about who I was except for I knew that I was scared to hold a gun, and even more scared to shoot somebody.

As the men were running up on to the beach I was even more frightened, they looked like a huge stampede running towards me, I was clueless about what I should do. As they were running up the Nazi soldier next to me shot a man, the man was calling out a name after he was hit, I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but after a few seconds another U.S. soldier turns around to listen, that man being my mom, I was In the perfect line to shoot this man, but I didn’t want to. The same Nazi next to me said in German to shoot the man and make Hitler proud or to die myself (in my dream if you didn’t make Hitler proud when in the youth group then you would be beaten or even shot and killed as punishment.) So I shot the man in the left shoulder, all I could remember was the man falling and then looking at me, then his face turned into my mom’s face. Then I woke up. I was so frightened by this that I couldn’t sleep for the next 2 hours, finally when the image left my mind, I went back to sleep. I was glad to see my mom okay and alive the next morning, so I asked her to make me breakfast – then I knew everything was really okay.

France – Sacred Stones, Savory Food & Funny Lessons-August 24-31, '06

Dear Family and Friends,
We are in France now and it is wonderful to be here, experiencing the sacred sites, the delicious food and the beautiful countryside. To get to our most up to date info go to our blog site at: www.oursacredjourney.blogspot.com or check our web site at: www.gabriel-icasiana.com.


After difficult lessons in Britain, we have been savoring the sweetness in France, and laughing a lot. Funny things have been happening.

Ferry to Freedom
We take a ferry from Plymouth in England and ride 6 hours to get to Roscoff, France. The ferry is a first class operation, well organized, and the food in the restaurant is superb, a glorious dinner after 2 months in Britain where we had gotten very tired of the food. We were very surprised when we got into Roscoff that there are no immigration officials to look at our passports or give us a visa to stay in France. We just drive right off the boat and into France. This is especially ironic because at the ferry embarkation in Plymouth the ferry operators stopped us at the entrance line and were not going to let us through when they found out we had no visa to come into France. We waited in line for 20 minutes until they called the immigration officials in France, upon Icasiana’s suggestion, and finally told us we didn’t need a visa before we arrived in France. I guess not only didn’t we need a visa before we arrived; we seemingly didn’t need a visa at all, even though they almost didn’t let us get on the boat in the first place. We shall see when we are leaving France to go into our next destination if we really did need a visa.

Electrical Ons and Offs
When we drive off the ferry with no idea where to go, we drive to a municipal parking lot intended for campers and stay overnight. There is no charge and no bathrooms, but we are happy to land gently in France. We drive to Carnac the next day, and we’re excited to see these ancient stones that we’ve heard so much about. Carnac is said to have the largest amount of ancient stones and concentration of sites of anywhere in the world. The kids are excited because we have found a wonderful campsite with a big swimming pool and fun water slides. We like it because it’s surrounded by pine trees and grass fields nearby, and it’s organized very well. When we set up in our site, we plug in the electrical plug, and it doesn’t work. We’d gotten all these other things fixed in the van and must have thought that this would just magically get fixed now that we were in “alignment”. This hope turned out to be just a fantasy. Icasiana spends a couple of hours trying to trace the problem and fix it. She gets it to work for a moment, oh happy day, but alas it is just a fleeting moment, then nothing.

The next day we go to the camping store in the next town over from Carnac. We were told of 2 places, the other place, Baud is about 45 minutes away, and this one in Pleuharnel is just 5 minutes away. The lady at the store tells us she cannot help us, and then she remembers her brother in law is visiting and might be able to help. At least that’s what I think she says because she doesn’t speak a word of English. Her brother in law arrives and works on it, tightens a few wires, and it works. Oh this is great. I pay him 20 euros for his help and we drive back to the campsite, plug it in and it doesn’t work anymore. We decide that we are not going to spend any more of our time in magical Carnac trying to get this fixed. We will wait till we can go to a bigger city.


Carnac – Land of Magic and the Largest Megalithic Stone Alignments in the World Wow!

These stone alignments are so magical and powerful. They rove across the landscape for as many as 9 miles long in rows wide as 100 meters and of many as 11 rows across. Some of them are gigantic and some are just huge. Why were they built? We don’t know. I believe that they follow the earth energy lines, and each row is a line of the energy field. They were also built as astronomical and astrological markers of the solstices, winter and summer, and of things beyond our knowing. When we arrived in Carnac we found out that the main stone alignment areas are fenced off, much to our dismay. We learned that this has been done because for many years access to these sites was fully open, but in addition to vandalism, the trampling of the grass by so many people was causing erosion of the soil and the stones were falling down. These measures were instituted for protection. After October, which is after the rainy season and the large influx of tourists, the sites are again accessible. Well, we just had to get in closer to the stones. I mean they are very nice to look at, but I must touch them and feel them. We did sign up for a guided tour that let us in for one hour. We were not good students though. The woman talked for 30 minutes straight while the group stood in one place without walking through the stones at all. Later on there was some time for the group to walk about but we had long ago separated from the group by then, and we weren’t called back or chastised. I mean, what was the point of listening to her talk about the stones when the whole talk was in French?

Night Life at the Stones
I did take it upon myself to drive us back to my favorite spot after dark, the Kermario alignment. Oh my God. It was magnetic, it was electric, it was something special to be there. I felt like I was about to levitate. There I was in the dark walking amongst the stones, leaning against them and feeling their magnetism. I was in a wonderful sanctuary. The stones took on the shapes of many amazing beings: dolphins, whales, frogs, Mother Mary, giants, old men’s faces. At night my feelings about them became more pronounced and charged and magical as the distractions of the day were minimized. The 2nd night I lay in the field amongst these great giants and felt such power and presence. I even felt a healing coursing through my body. Strangely that night, I had horrifying dreams. I was in the midst of gruesome images of war. I woke up very shaken and not knowing what it all meant – was it a message for me or did the stones awaken this dream?

Being in the presence of these stones was such a gift for me, yet I read in one of our books (Standing Stones by Jean-Pierre Mohen) how the church forbade people to have ceremonies amongst the stones because they viewed it as idol worship. On that basis they took it upon themselves to destroy many of the stones. We are left today with only a fraction of what once was, and still what we are left with is amazing. I feel very sad not only for what was destroyed by the church but for how people have been controlled and disempowered by their policies. The church has discouraged people from having a direct experience with the life force of creation. Must it all be in the form sanctioned or institutionalized by the church? For what purpose has this suppression been done?

Comedy Before we get the Van Fixed
The time has come to leave Carnac after 5 days. The kids are sad because they have loved the water slide, and they have made friends from Britain and France that they’ve had fun with. We plan to go to the bigger towns of Vannes and Rennes to get the van fixed so we won’t be having spoiled food because the fridge cannot stay on long enough. This day begins as a comedy of the absurd. We get to Vannes and I ask the lady at the gas station if there is a camping store that we can get our electricity fixed. This is in French of course. I had gotten the people at the campsite in Carnac to write down for me how to ask this question in French. The family has been amused as I’ve practiced saying it in advance so I’ll be ready for my premiere. I get the question out fine, but my French comprehension is not very advanced. I understand nothing. She’s trying to explain to me that there are no camping stores in this area at all, or in the next big city of Rennes, that we should go to Auray. That’s where we have just come from. We will have to go back. Then she gets the mechanic to help me find a place, he also speaks no English. They’re telling me there are 2 places in the Carnac/Auray area that may be able to help me, but I can’t understand what or where they are. This conversation has all been taking place in French, or sort of on my part – I grunt and gesticulate a lot to try and make myself understood when I have no words. Then the woman says to me, “Okay, I’ll explain to you how to get there.” And she proceeds to explain to me in perfect English how to get there. I guess I had made a big enough fool of myself that she took pity on me. We had heard that many of the French people can speak English but prefer not to. I believe the French people want to be met on their own terms. And I can understand that. There are forces in the world, the United States, the World Bank, the IMF (International Money Fund), to name a few, that are forcing many countries of the world to acquiesce to their will. They often break down subsistence farming communities and make them dependent on growing crops for export at cheap prices. Their policies have led to the crushing of small farmers all over the world. Small farmers in local communities have become mostly a thing of the past. There have been worldwide protests over this issue. There was even a South Korean man who, at a demonstration of this issue, killed himself in protest. In France there are still small farmers in local communities. They have resisted the pressure to conform, and they have maintained their culture. I respect them for that. Each town we go through looks different. The countryside is beautiful; there is a wonderful feeling here. There is much more freedom here than in Britain, yet the people seem much more self regulating.

Oh Where Oh Where Can we Go?
Back to the story; so she tells me how to get to 2 camping stores where we can get the electricity fixed. So we drive back where we’ve come from. We find the first place, it has closed and moved. We call the number, but the company that we bought our French SIM card has had technical difficulties and we’ve not been able to make phone calls or receive any calls for that matter. This is a sore point for us. So we try to find the second place. This is where things get crazy. We drive to the 2nd place and ask directions when we get to the town and get sent to who knows where. We get lost of course, go back and ask directions again and are sent to a city miles away. Normal thinking processes are getting fuzzy at this point and I drive to the far away city wondering why I hadn’t looked further in the town of Crac’h. Of course when we get to the next city of Belz 30 minutes away no one knows of any camping store. At this point I am so frustrated that my fuses blow and I give the driving over to Icasiana. We decide to drive to Baud, the store we had first been told about in Carnac days ago that we never went to because it was so far away. But it wasn’t nearly as far away as this ridiculous ride we’ve had today.

Electrical Problem Ignites New Friendships

[The Nicol family, sorry without mother and wife Marie]
We find the camping store in Baud. They sell camper vans and caravans here. When we arrive we see one of the workers building a caravan. That’s a good sign. The boss, Didier, comes to help us and he has kind eyes. He looks it over and soon after shows us what part of the connection board is “kaput”. He does speak a bit of English. The security part of the board is defective and so the whole thing doesn’t work. He rewires it and bypasses the security board and it works. He tells us to get it fixed when we get back home, but it will work for now. We tell him we’re not going home, this is our home. He says he can fix it but the store that has the part we need is closed by now. We can go to a campground for the night and get it fixed in the morning. All right, that sounds good. He tells us there is a campground that we can go to and he starts to give us directions. Things get confusing here and he decides to have one of his workers take us there but he doesn’t tell us what he has in mind. When the worker drops us off, it’s not a campground that we’re at, but we’re at Didier’s home. Surprise! He and his wife Marie have invited us to their home and we are welcomed by their 2 girls who are the only ones at home. I’m scratching my head at this turn of events. As it turns out, they had thought we needed to plug into the electricity and the campground they knew about didn’t have electricity. So they just brought us to their home. We were so touched by their kindness and how they had taken care of us. What was ironic was that we had never had the plug working before so we were not used to plugging in to electricity anyway and certainly weren’t expecting what they had planned for us. We were glad though that now we could plug in and the fridge would work and we wouldn’t waste more food. They made their home available to us and had a tent set up already that the kids could use to sleep in. They offered us food and wine, some of which I accepted (the wine) as Icasiana lay with Elijah in the van trying to get him to stop his breastfeeding gymnastics routine and go to sleep. Icasiana has been trying to ply me with wine on this trip so she can have a drinking partner, and she hasn’t been very successful. The kids are just too young. I can barely get past one sip of wine and I’ve had more than enough. But the wine in France is not bad, meaning I can actually drink it. The kids were amused at my new sense of humor after 2 glasses, I think. It seemed funny to me anyway.

The Van is Fixed At Last!
The next day when we go back to their shop, Didier fixes the electrical problem easily. This was funny because we had had so many people try to fix it to no avail. He also fixed our light fixture that had been falling down and in the way for almost 2 months that we’d tried to fix a number of times. Didier has been building his own home for a few years, he knows camper vans and this stuff was kindergarten stuff to him. For us it was not so simple and it was much appreciated. We thanked him and his wife and left (they thought they had seen the last of us). Instead, we went to town to get a present for them to thank them more deeply for their help and kindness. We found a plant and some flowers and brought it back to their shop but it was closed for lunch. We took a chance that they were at home and took our gift to them there. When they received our gift they were shocked at what we had done. They gifted us with wine and champagne and a warm reception to eat with them. Before we left, we exchanged email addresses and we showed them how to use a translation program so we could write and translate into the other’s language. We left the town of Baud feeling buoyed and excited to go to Le Mont St. Michel, which is a corresponding sacred site from Mount St. Michael that we had visited in Cornwall, England.

Presence or Presents
We marvel at our son Elijah. As he approaches his first birthday we notice that he is so joyful and so present with us. People remark to us all the time of how present he is with them. It has been such a gift for us to be able to be with him this first year of his life without being called away to so many other things of the world. When we are with him, which is all the time, we give him our full attention, and we notice that he feels so safe and trusting. Icasiana and I had a conversation about this and we believe that kids want full presence from their parents much more than they want presents. We’re not thinking of how we can stimulate him, or accelerate his growth, or develop his intelligence. We trust his innate intelligence and marvel at his natural curiosity. As a chiropractor I have practiced my professional system of removing interference and letting healing happen from within. With the baby we remove interference by being fully present with him and let the growth and intelligence develop from within.

Nor do we try to keep him busy. We have noticed in most every country we have been in, except Bali, that kids are very distracted by TV, video games, iPods and other electronic paraphernalia. Our belief is that these gadgets keep kids indoors and distracted away from their source, from nature, their creator, or whatever deeper connection they could have. Matt and Kate have not had these gadgets for most of the trip and we have noticed some amazing changes in them, especially in Matt. He has had the opportunity to have some deep conversations with other young people and has evolved his thinking, his philosophy and most-importantly, his heart. He has had a spiritual awakening and a developing faith in his connection with the creator. This has led to a whole new feeling about himself, an increased sense of confidence, and a dissolving of his fear of being judged. For Icasiana, she feels the whole trip is worth it just for this healing he has had. We will publish his writings about his experiences immediately after this update. Matt has expressed that even though his writing is extremely personal, he’d like to share it with others, that it may be helpful to young (and old) people, to get into their hearts and find their source, their core for healing.

You’ll hear from us real soon!

Love and blessings, Gabriel and Icasiana and the family.