Читать книгу Celestial Messages - Isabelle B. Tremblay - Страница 32

I’m an old man who used to be called the “Indian”. I lived in a village of white people who came to consult me because of my wisdom and time-honored remedies. I loved my life, even though it was that of a lone old wolf. I had chosen to be this different to learn in life. My departure was very gentle, in my sleep during a nap. I got lost for a while before realizing that I was on the other side. I made a lot of dreamcatchers and laid traps for fur animals. I was a gifted fortune-teller. I could predict a lot of things, and I was known around for that power. I learned from my life. From life. I knew that it was gentle and calm when we go with the flow, but that it could be harsh and cruel if we try to go against the tide. Pain can break us, and trials can seem overwhelming. At such times, you should be like a wheat stalk that sways in the wind but doesn’t break. The stalk lets itself be carried along in the dance. Live in the flow; you’ll be less likely to drown.