The Indigo Blue Dream / The Reluctant Clarivoyant - Part 1: A true story about the Super Psychic Indigo Children

I have brought @edzardloesing to Steemit to share with you an incredibly eye opening book he has written based on his life experiences, called the The Indigo Blue Dream. This novel is about many things, including the very special children that inhabit this world today, often called INDIGO CHILDREN. This novel is one that I have encouraged Edzhart to publish here on Steemit, and if you take the time to read it I am sure you will see why!

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The Reluctant Clairvoyant
or
The Indigo Blue Dream

PART 1:

Lila was restless.
As usual she was lying on her bed getting ready for the inner flood of pictures and scenes to come down. She referred to this as the "celestial downloading", which happened to her without her asking. Often it was so wonderful to get in touch with all these light-filled new children on this planet, to whom telepathy had ceased to be something unusual.
This time it did not go well: She felt that something terrible was about to happen to somebody or a being close to her. She just could not find out who or what – it was maddening. The more so as she could not share this with just anybody, in whom this gift had not yet flowered. They would not understand. It usually ended in a painful experience.
Maybe her dear friend Kanta: She would help…But she was not here now!
Lila thought of Ekkehard.

The person in the cross of hairs of Lila's intense thought waves was restless too.
Something was tugging inside of him, asking him to move, to do something,- but what?
Ekkehard had managed to come all the way from Germany to this place in South India, following some kind of an inner call, so difficult to explain with logical, grammatically correct sentences.. They said he was a dreamer, but not the only one: Here he had found some equally crazy people in this dreamer's village – as he called it –to turn a badly eroded desert into a green forest. They said it's impossible. But now, 2 million planted trees later, walking in the shade of a magic forest the probability of it all did not require any discussion.
This tugging inside went on.
Why is it that sometimes we are able to follow a call and travel 10 000 Miles – and then again we fail to walk from the house to the horse shed in time?

-Real-time –
Ekkehard could hear the sound of shawms and drums, accompanied by the nowadays inevitable thunder of big firecrackers and recorded music distorted to the maximum by over-amplification originating from cone speakers in the next village. A temple festival, locally known as "poojah", was reaching its climax.
Incredible India! Why did this big, beautiful country sometimes produce such nerve-racking noise?
The fire crackers employed during these poojahs were reaching hand-grenade proportions and could pose a threat to nervous thoroughbred horses.
He hoped that the celebrating adolescents were not again about to walk the roads with their drums throwing firecrackers left and right. That would not be good for the horses.
If this went on with all that noise, he would drink the last beer out of the solar cool box and stuff earplugs into his ears in order to get some sleep.
There was a small voice inside of him asking: Would it not be better to be with the horses, to stand guard at the fence of the corral?
Ekkehard did not know it yet: He would live to regret not having given full attention to this inner, all-knowing voice.
***
Ekkehard is visited by a warning dream
Dreamtime

Instinctively the warrior keeps his breath. What is the matter with this silver-gray horse? Horses do not like to be alone.
The silver horse enters a clearing. The moonlight makes the fur, mane and tail glow.
Grace and power.
There is something wrong with this one. Has it been injured?
Graceful movements turn at times into a kind of staggering.
Is it a mare?The warrior has not come close enough yet to answer this question.
The silver horse is avoiding him.
He concentrates on his intent and transmits it to the horse.
I greet you.
I respect you.
My love is with all horses, so it is with you too.
If you need help, accept it from me.
With his inner eyes he receives a clear picture now: It was a mare and she was losing blood.
She really is injured. He puts still more effort in his attempt to get closer.
She noticed him.
She is still shying away from him.
Maybe she would allow a female warrior to come close.
What to do?
A loud cracking sound startles the mare. She jumps.
The picture of the horse gradually fades.
The fading gets undone. The depth of field increases again.
A warrior is sitting cross legged, wearing a poncho woven in earth-colors.
On his lap lies the head of an extraordinary beautiful mare. She is dying.
Blood flows out of a wound on her forehead.
It looks like the horn of a unicorn has been ripped out by force.
***
Aisha
In his sleep Ekkehard´s body moved restlessly back and forth.
The black cat Moqui, which had managed once again to hijack his belly, was meowing in protest. She had been thrown overboard.
There it was again!
A sharp crack not unlike the sound of a shotgun.
This time the sound waves were disturbing enough to penetrate the earplug barrier in Ekkehard´s ears. He woke up.
Another very loud cracking sound!
He was wide awake.
This was too close! Too loud! The horses!
He threw the bed sheet with Moqui in it off his body and got up fast. The cat sounded very indignant.
For once Ekkehard ignored her, slipped into his jogging shorts, grabbed his L.E.D. flashlight and was on his way.
He ran at top speed towards the stable.
He heard Werner the dog barking at the top of his voice.
He arrived and opened the top beam of the entrance to the corral. The sulphuric smell of some sort of gunpowder was still lingering in the air.
The light beam of his flashlight caught the foal Tawalai standing in the entrance of the stable. As young as he was, he seemed to assume the role of guardian over his mother. Ekkehard was touched by these early signs of a stallion protecting his mares.
The pony mare Hava stood to the right of the stable. She was obviously very nervous but ok. Ekkehard placed a calming hand on Tawalai´s neck, pushed him gently aside and directed the beam of the flashlight inside.
What he saw there was hitting him so hard that it eluded description.
The white mare was standing with her front legs unnaturally wide apart. The right eye was injured and closed half. Out of a wound in the middle of her forehead blood was welling up, flowing down her head, into her nostrils, dripped out of the nostrils. There was blood everywhere: On the hay, on the ground, on her chest, on her front legs.
He stood there frozen. Time itself seemed to do likewise.
For a moment he lost it completely. His dream!
He experienced a heavy surge of adrenalin. His eyes got moist, filled with tears. He kept his left arm around the neck of the foal.
Tawalai pushed towards his mother. This movement thawed Ekkehard out of his frozen state. A short emergency prayer. Equilibrium! You are a warrior! Pull yourself together! You are needed! Or so he admonished himself. Have to keep a promise...
The foal stood now directly under the head of his mother. Blood dripped on his white blaze, created dark stains on the brown fur of his back.
Ekkehard made the three steps towards Aisha, embraced her and pressed his head against her neck. She trembled. He whispered her name and well known Hopi words into her ear. She trembled less.
Heavily she rested her head on his right shoulder. Something warm was dripping down his naked back.
Gently he disentangled himself from her and investigated the wound with the flashlight. A wooden splinter was still sticking in it.
While he continued to whisper soothing words, he carefully pulled out the splinter.
Now even more blood was welling up.
170 km on some open truck over bad roads to the horse hospital of his friend, the veterinary doctor in the next big city? No. No chance.
Trying to staunch the heavy bleeding? The chances of succeeding there looked very slim.
Something in him tried to refuse to acknowledge the facts: Most likely the best he could do was to help her with the transition to the other side. To be there for her during her last hours in this incredible, formerly so powerful body.
The barking of Werner the dog came closer. Ekkehard turned around. Was Chandra coming along with her dog? He went to the entrance of the corral. He felt something behind him and turned around. The mare followed him. Stumbling and staggering. She used to be so surefooted.
When he saw her like that, it broke his heart.
He turned around, forced himself to go on functioning, with some kind of minimum composure. He walked like in some sort of a trance.
Chandra had some trouble to hold Werner on his leash. "He barked so much and just doesn't stop! These stupid firecrackers! What...?"
In the beam of her small torch she saw all the blood on Ekkehard´s naked shoulders and chest.
"My God! What happened to you?"
"Nothing. This is all Aisha's blood." He was sobbing, trying to get a grip on himself. "Chandra, I need your help. Can you please drive over to Lila and bring her here? Nobody has such a good feeling with the foal than her. - I have to help Aisha die!"
"What? Oh no!" Chandra was shocked.
Ekkehard had managed to get the words out somehow. But his voice was filled with an enormous intensity, when he continued:" Lila. Please. She has no phone. Please hurry!"
"Of course! I'll run!"
Run she did, followed by Werner.
***
Lila comes and has to overcome her problem with seeing blood
Time seemed to crawl onwards painfully.
Ekkehard heard the sound of Chandra's little Honda, when she returned.
He gently removed himself from the still bleeding mare, turned around and went to the entrance of the corral.
Lila jumped of the Honda's pillion and ran over towards him. He held up the palms of his hands as if to stop her and said:" Before you embrace me: I'm full of blood..." Ekkehard directed the beam of his torch to his shoulders.
"The more reason I have to hug you!" She held him tight in her arms.
"Thank you that you immediately came with Chandra..."
"But of course!"
"I know that you have a problem with blood. But then there is a warrioress in you, who can overcome this. If you want to help now, you have to."
He directed the beam of the torch onto the mare and the foal. Lila closed her eyes and pressed herself against his body. Ekkehard heard a sound like choking.
Then it was over. She opened her eyes, breathed deeply and said: "I'll bear up!"
"Good. I have to fetch a few things and you'll be alone with her for a few minutes. OK?" He sounded slightly absentminded, already occupied with the task at hand.
"Can I help?" offered Chandra from her place at the entrance of the corral. Werner, the lively Doberman, came running and barked again wildly.
"No thank you. But please keep Werner away from here. If he smells all this blood, he's maybe losing it!"
Ekkehard´s answer had sounded a shade too aggressive, but it was simply all too much: An out-of-control-dog was the last thing needed now.
Chandra mumbled an excuse and disappeared together with Werner.
Ekkehard turned his attention to Lila again and said: "I don't want her to collapse here. I'll try to make her move over there, where we can dig a big hole..." His voice showed the strain, when he said this.
"Is it really so bad? Can't we stanch the bleeding and stitch the wound?" asked Lila with some despair in her voice. She loved this extraordinary mare so much and she felt the pain in her man, wanted to help and console.
"No, Lila. We won't do that! In her panic she jumped and hit her head into something. A sharp piece of a branch went all the way into her brain...For such a wild, free being like her it would be worse to survive and be reduced to a staggering cripple...Do you understand?"
His voice sounded tired and without hope. She felt his pain acutely like her own.
"And Tawalai?" she asked with a very small voice.
"You have to please try and console him, to calm him down. We have to separate foal and mare, so that he does not lose it completely later..."
Lila nodded in consent. Her throat felt too tight to speak. How to avoid the trauma for such a beautiful, young foal?
Ekkehard was running back to the house. He was freezing. He quickly pulled two old tee-shirts over his head, found the rescue remedy spray and a small ampoule with globules. He could hardly think straight. His heart seemed frozen in a state of shock. Powerful waves of emotions could hardly flow through cramped gateways: Grief-stricken he tried to find a way of how to help the young foal through this.
He was already running in the direction of the stable, when he remembered the poncho. Kanta had called it the Red-Indian blanket. It was still lying on a granite slab next to the tank-pool.
Just a few hours ago he had been sitting on it, staring into the moon, happily in love...
No time for this now. He had to concentrate on the task at hand. Carrots for Tawalai to distract the foal from the impending death of his mother.
Aisha...
Arriving at the stable he paused and reduced the light of the torch to low beam.
Lila embraced the mare with her left arm and held her right hand on the forehead of the foal.
Three beings holding communion with each other.
A picture of harmony. If only the mare would be free of the injury, which continued to bleed.
Lila felt Ekkehard´s presence behind and turned around. "Now you are full of blood too," he commented with sadness.
"That doesn't matter now. - I scanned Aisha and feel that your impression is right: Our powers are not sufficient; - the damage to her center of coordination and movement is way too great. We could force her to survive, - but what good would it do to her?"
Silently they embraced each other.
Ekkehard went to the pony mare, caressed her and spoke to Lila in such a low voice that she had to strain to understand him: "I'll give her some fresh hay; - she'll be busy with that. Then I'll try to lead Aisha towards the grave of Stardust, the gelding she loved so much. I pray she'll make it that far. Tawalai will try to follow his mother. So you please try to distract him and close the exit of the corral with the three beams as fast as you can once Aisha has passed."
A dry sob drowned his last words.
He placed a bundle of hay in front of Hava and went back to Lila and Tawalai. He showed the rescue remedy spray to Lila and showed her how it worked.
"The foal trusts you. Whenever you feel he needs it, you press with your thumb and index finger into the gap of his jawbone. You pump some spray into his mouth - like this - and watch your fingers. If you have any questions or if you think that you can't handle him anymore, you call out loud. I'll wait for a calm moment with her..." he pointed to Aisha, "...and come to help you. Ready?"
She nodded. She was flooded with sympathy and sadness.
Ekkehard took a big bundle of rice straw from the loft in the stable, pulled the Red-Indian poncho over his head and ever so gently fixed the stable halter on Aisha. He knew that it would be their last walk together. His heart cramped again. Slowly he made the first step. Willingly though staggeringly Aisha followed him. He made some more steps and felt the heaviness in the mare's movements. He seemed to have leaded legs himself.
He had to pull himself together. He had to support the mare, had to be there only for her.
Had he ever loved a horse that much, such a wild, unrestrained yet gentle beauty?
He hardly registered, when Lila slammed the three heavy beams into its fixtures.
***
Lila's very good friend Kanta shares a foreboding dream
Some 14 000 Kilometers – or 10 000 miles - away in beautiful Austria Uncle Herbert had insisted: In his old-fashioned, irresistible way he had invited the just married Indian-Austrian couple to a ride in his old, well polished chariot. The two mighty chestnut cold-blooded horses with their long tufts of fur at the ankles were well groomed and pulled the wooden cab effortlessly uphill on a winding mountain road.
The two passengers, Kanta and Hubert, enjoyed the breathtakingly beautiful views.
It was cold in Austria. Though the sun was shining, uncle Herbert had wrapped them into a thick, heavy blanket. Kanta cuddled as close as possible to her husband Hubert.
"So sweet of your uncle to personally drive our coach into this dream country!"
"He is actually enjoying himself!"
"They are all so sweet to me. I am deeply impressed. - Looking at the two well-tempered giants in front pulling us, I just remember that I had again a horse dream.
I don't know though, if I should tell you. It's anything but funny..."
"Just go ahead", Hubert encouraged her and pulled the heavy blanket over her shoulder.
"The horse in my dream was a beautiful silver-grey. She reminded me of Aisha, - you know - the mare on which Ekkehard came galloping into our marriage.
This horse in my dream had an injury on her forehead; she was bleeding a lot...
Finally she collapsed. In the next scene I remember there was a Red Indian wearing a poncho woven in earth colors. I saw him only from behind, in the twilight.
He was sitting cross-legged on the ground and had the head of the horse on his lap. Oh Hubert, it was such a sad picture!"
***
Ekkehard´ previous long-term companion Iris has trouble with her very sensitive daughter
Not far away from Austria, where Kanta and Hubert were enjoying their chariot ride with Hubert´s uncle, a drama unfolded in a small Swiss town.
A woman and four men were standing in front of a locked and barricaded door inside an apartment on the first floor.
For just the fraction of a second the woman had a flash of a thought crossing her mind: If my long-time companion Ekkehard would be here right now! – He had a way with her difficult daughter.
But he was not.
So she forced herself to speak out loud and clear:
"If you don't open the door immediately, they will force it open!" Though the slender, attractive woman spoke loudly, she seemed to be in control of herself and the situation. Behind her a sturdy looking male nurse, a doctor and two policemen could not help admiring her restrained manner.
"This is my kingdom! My home is my castle! Nobody has the right to invade!" The answering female voice sounded hysterical. She almost screamed.
"Please forgive me, but I have to ask this question now." The grey haired doctor's voice sounded friendly, when he addressed himself to Iris. He continued: "The risk of suicide cannot be excluded?"
"At this point she is totally unpredictable," replied Iris, still in a restrained manner.
"Well, gentlemen...," sighed the doctor and nodded his go-ahead towards the police officers, who were already investigating the lock of the door.
"Simple wooden frame - doesn't look difficult," opined the older officer. "Who does it?"
The strong looking nurse stepped forward and requested the woman to step aside.
"I have some experience with this..."
He was getting ready to hit the door, raised his right leg and in the most literal meaning of the word gate crashed through.
The sound of splintering wood.
Everything happened very fast.
The doctor and the nurse pulled the girl at her arms out of the room.
"Let go of me! Don't touch me!" The girl screamed at the top of her voice. "You only want to get rid of me! I hate you, you traitor!"
`I can't put up with this much longer´, Iris thought. `How am I supposed to endure this...that a mother has to act like this...? ´
She turned around and handed a bag with clothes and toiletries over to the younger policeman. In the process of doing so the arm of her blouse slipped up, revealing some fresh bleeding scratches. Like caused by sharp fingernails. Quickly she pulled the garment down to cover the scratches again.
***
Lila's best friend Ulrike has an argument with her brother over forebodings and feelings
14 000 Kilometers away from India with its noisy temple rituals and about 600 Kilometers away from the drama in the Swiss town, a stubborn brother had a talk with his sister, who had sometimes these weird glimpses of things to come.
A very small, fine inner voice already urged him to heed the advice about to come from his sister.
Would he ignore it again? Would he live to regret it?
"Tell me, dearest sister mine, did you instigate my daughter Angela to come out with this wild martial stuff?"
"What are you talking about?" Ulrike pretended to be ignorant and innocent.
"Well, she only threatened to cut all tires of the car with the big kitchen knife, if you don't come along on our trip to the Mediterranean!" The voice of her brother came now louder out of the receiver.
"How out of proportion and insensitive! Could this be a genetic thing with the girl?" She tried to sound innocent.
"Yeah, you have to resort to teasing, you with your peaceful yoga-world..."
"One moment, dear brother!" Now she was speaking with determination. "Yes, we spoke about it. And yes again, she had this idea and I tried to talk her out of it. But can't you for once be a bit sensitive to the fact that both of us have this strange feeling? A kind of foreboding that you either shouldn't go at all or take me with you! No - please don't interrupt me just now. You know very well that sometimes I do have these strange premonitions which often hit the target in the center!"
"You and your funny foreboding business! I actually would have enjoyed taking you along to share the driving, even though the car is filled and stacked to the roof.
But just now your son Till got sick and so you can't..."
"...and you should postpone then!"
"Now listen dear sister, you know very well how precious little time I can squeeze out of my job to have such a little vacation with Angela! What a hassle to cancel the whole program! And based on a mere feeling. This is a little holiday and a far cry from a dangerous adventure, you see. You know very well how much Angela loves to cruise with me in the inflatable boat and dive a bit!"
Ulrike looked at the photos of her brother and Angela lying in front of her on the table. She realized that she was losing him and felt so terribly powerless. His brother could be as stubborn as a donkey.
"Hallo? Ulrike? You still there?"
"Yes, I'm still here and unhappy. All that's left then for me to do is to implore you to please..."
"Your wish shall be heard!" The voice of her brother betrayed him. His display of some sort of a funny mood was not authentic.
Ulrike spoke slowly and with all the intensity she could muster.
"Please avoid to go diving, if you feel so strangely cold again!"
"What makes you say that? - Well – in any case: yes, ok. If you say so. But we have the neoprene suits, if needed..."
***

END OF PART 1

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Read the introduction here:
https://steemit.com/story/@eco-alex/the-reluctant-clairvoyant-a-book-by-edzard-loesing-about-the-indigo-children