I’m back home in Mudgee now, and I feel with some time and distance I can now provide a cogent review of Dallas.

Many of you reading this blog will be familiar with what happened while Jennifer and I were there, through my daily posts.

But there was a lot I didn’t tell you – either because it was too personal, or because I wanted to hold situations and events in reserve for the subsequent film.

The Indian astrologer, Dr. Bimal Bhatt, told me that I should write a diary of what happened in Dallas.

I didn’t.

Instead what I did was I recorded a video diary at the end of each day, where I talked to camera, totally unscripted, and I revealed what actually happened, and how I felt about it all. It was real stream-of-consciousness stuff, largely because I was so damn exhausted at the end of the day, and all the filters had shut down.

I can tell you that I was very nervous and agitated before I went to Dallas.

I was mainly nervous about personal security, because on the astrologer’s advice I was required to stay in a very cheap motel, and I knew that would involve staying in a rough part of town. And Dallas has some very rough and dangerous areas.

I wasn’t so much worried about myself, but more concerned about Jennifer.

I had to invoke my PGS and trust that it would lead me to a suitable place that would meet the astrologer’s needs, and yet still be safe. Or relatively safe.

The Shady Oaks Motel, at $28 a night, met all my needs. It was relatively safe, although the bullet-proof glass “reception” window, the metal slide box and speaker-grill, were all a bit disconcerting. And then there was the sign by the reception window which read:

No prostitution
No drug dealing
No weapons

But what was really disconcerting was the putrid energy coming through the wall from the people in the room next door.

I won’t reveal what we heard, because of piracy issues – but it was disturbing. Very disturbing. So disturbing that by the third day, Jennifer began to feel physically ill.

I’ll never forget on the 4th day, the excitement of listening to my voice mail and hearing Joni Patry, the Dallas Vedic Astrologer, telling me that she was going to come around immediately and get us out of that “hell hole.”

Joni, who subsequently became a wonderful friend, set us up in a grand old-styled five star hotel in downtown – the absolute antithesis of the Shady Oaks. At last we had a room with a decent lock, and where we couldn’t hear what was going on next door.

I was nervous too more generally though – perhaps “anxious” is a better word. I was making every decision intuitively: What I did, where I went, who I spoke to and who I spent time with.

What was making me anxious though was something much larger than day to day intuitive decisions – it was the prediction. Dr. Bhatt had given me a grandiose prediction that he was absolutely convinced would come true – if I went to Dallas and stayed there.

When I asked Joni for a second opinion, I was quite convinced that she would come back and say politely that it was all rubbish, and that my future was entirely different to what dr. Bhatt had predicted.

That didn’t happen. She not only affirmed his prediction, she was able to give me even more detail of what she believed was in store for me. It was all consistent with Dr. Bhatt. She was astonished. She said she’d never read a chart like mine. I subsequently spoke to a couple of her clients who swore by the accuracy of her readings.

Not only that, but Joni did a “relocation” chart for me, where she factored Dallas into the equation, to try and figure out why Dr. Bhatt had told me to go there. And sure enough, her relocation chart showed that my future was even rosier should I spend time in Dallas.

You’d think I’d be elated. You’d think I’d be jumping for joy.

Anything but.

I felt anxious, disturbed, and confused.

I mean, these astrologers are saying these incredible things might really happen, but they also talk about free will. So what if I screw things up? What if I blow it all, because I don’t do something right, or because my intentions are muddied or not pure enough?

What if I’m a fraud, deep down?
What if I’m a gigantic fake?
What if I don’t deserve all these wonderful things that could be just around the corner?

All this was coursing through my mind over the fifteen days I was in Dallas. And that of course was problematic, because then I began to worry that if I had queries or I was confused or not feeling like I was worthy, then those thoughts in of themselves would cause everything to come unstuck.

Surely if this was to happen, I had to believe it 100%, and not question it. But I was questioning. Wouldn’t you?

And then there was the angel.

The lady in the coffee shop who told me that she was my Guardian Angel.

I mean, if that had happened in a coffee shop in Sydney, or in LA, I would have smiled and said: Great audition. I almost believed you. And I would have walked quickly away.

But this happened right next to the hotel in which I was staying, in downtown Dallas, in the place where the astrologer said I had to go.

Rachit, who is an avowed agnostic, said that he believed she was an angel. Jennifer, who met her, said she was someone who had “shifted into a transcendent state.”

When the woman, who told me her name was Mary Magdeline (“Like in the Bible,” she said) put out her hand and cupped my face and looked into my eyes and said to me: I love you Bill, well that freaked me out. Seriously. It freaked me out.

This was not a come-on, a pickup, there was nothing in her eyes other than pure radiant love. I don’t mean to get icky here, but that’s the only way I can describe it. Jennifer was standing right by my side when she said this.

The woman wasn’t suffering from mental health issues, as far as I could tell. There was a serenity, a calmness, a lucidity and knowingness about her – an authority or confidence – that is what probably made Jennifer think that she was transcendent.

What I didn’t say on the previous posts, but I’ll tell you now, is that she said to me that she had come from the past, where we’d been together, into this moment in the future to tell me that everything will be okay. And for me not to worry.

That’s what she said.

She also said that she would be with me in the future, as my Guardian Angel. That she would be with me to help me and support me.

I mean, how am I to react to this?

Put yourself in my shoes.

She could have been a homeless person seeking attention. She wore exactly the same clothes both times I saw her – baggy jeans, baggy jacket with a hoodie. You could not determine her figure from what she wore. Yet her face was slim. She sat in the furtherest corner of the coffee shop, she never spoke to anyone other than me, and she never ordered anything to eat or drink. She just sat reading the newspapers, keeping to herself.

After the first meeting, I checked the coffee shop each morning but she was never there. Not until the very last morning. It was as though she’d appeared to give me her last reassuring message.

Interestingly, when I later interviewed Dr. Dean Radin from the Institute of Noetic Sciences in Northern California, he emphasised that linear time as we understand it simply does not exist. Time can bend and warp and fold in on itself. He and other research scientists have conducted experiments which have proven that people can react to stimuli that occur in the future.

How did I feel when this lady told me that she’d come forward into the future to meet me? That she was my Guardian Angel? All I can tell you is that it shook me up. Big time. And it still shakes me up, when I think about it.

Do I believe her?

Yes I do.

And the reason I say this is because of her face. Her face was pure radiant love. Without any agenda or subtext or any hint of wanting something from me. It was a completely open honest transparent face, full of compassion. If an angel was going to present in the here-and-now, then it would probably have a face like hers.

Okay – let’s move on from the angel. Or the desperate homeless person in the baggy jeans with psychotic narcissistic tendencies – whichever way you wish to look at it.

Then there was the meeting with Mr. Trammell Crow, one of the most reclusive and elusive billionaires in Dallas. A true eccentric.

How did I get to have a three hour meeting in his private home on a Sunday night – my last night in Dallas – when two days earlier I didn’t even know who he was?

That was weird.

Then there were the light tracks above my head in my hotel room, which appeared at 4:44am after I said the mantra: The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. 

That too was weird. Again, seriously weird.

The whole trip was strange.

I felt different in Dallas. Dr. Bhatt talked about the “cosmic rays,” and I’m not sure if it was imagined, but I felt lighter, more energised, more awake.

Awake to moments, to possibilities, to wonderful whacky strangeness.

If it weren’t for Christmas, I would have stayed, because good things were beginning to happen. Dr. Bhatt said I should stay a further 30 days if good things began to happen, and really I should have stayed. But Jennifer and I wanted to come back home and celebrate Christmas with our family.

I had a dream last night – I woke up at 4:24am with my only recollection of the dream being that I’d been walking in amongst the high rise skyscrapers of Dallas, all shiny and reflective from the bright cosmic rays. And the overwhelming feeling I had from the dream was that everything was unfolding as it should, and that everything was alright.

Good things are now in train, as a result of Dallas.

Droplets
become
trickles
become
streams
become
rivers
become
seas
become
oceans.