THINGS WERE DEFINITELY MOVING ON at quite a pace. I felt as though I was waking up from a deep sleep. Life was fun, the nightmare was ending. My desire to learn was increasing each day and I entered in to the challenges with an open heart and without expectation. My life was becoming peaceful and worry was a distant memory. I had not looked in a mirror since the beginning but I could say with some certainty that I was beautiful; I could feel the beauty within me.

My only stumbling block was the 'asking'. I asked until I was blue in the face but to no avail; whatever I asked for it didn't come. I asked with please and thank you but this made no difference. I remembered The Barefoot Indian's words: "if it doesn't come then you are not asking correctly." Well I certainly wasn't asking correctly. I even tried sitting crossed legged or kneeling down as if to pray, no matter how I asked it did not make a difference. It was time to consult with The Barefoot Indian.

She didn't come straight away, I think to demonstrate a point, but she came a few days later as I was walking in the park.

"Hello," she said as she came up from behind me.

"Hi, how are you?" I asked, very pleased to see her.

"Perfect," she answered.

Of course she is I thought, how stupid of me to ask.

"I am really struggling with the 'asking' thing." I continued. "It just doesn't seem to work for me."

"I'm sure that is not true, what makes you different?" she said. "It's all in the way you ask."

"So I gather, but my way is obviously incorrect," I exclaimed.

She progressed, "Let me give you a nudge in the right direction. Why does a child ask its mother for food, or pocket money, or even help?"

"Because the child knows the mother will provide all of those things," I said.

"That's right, but why can she provide all of those things?" she asked.

I thought about it as we walked around the lake. My mind was blank. As we were walking and not talking, I suddenly saw a mother and child throwing bread to the ducks; it was then that the answer came. They could only give bread to the ducks if they had bread to give.

"I think I've got it!" I suddenly said. "The mother can only provide all those things because she has them to give."

"Excellent," she said. "She can only provide what she has to give and the child only asks for what it knows the mother can give."

"Now, tell me one thing that you have asked for," she said.

"Well, on the day of the picnic I asked for an apple," I said, a little embarrassed.

"And when you asked did you know that the 'Unlimited' had an apple to give?"

"No, to be honest, I never really thought about it," I replied.

"So you asked for an apple without knowing if it could be given or even if it had it to give."

"Yes," I said, "but surely I would only know it had an apple to give when I received it?"

"Common error," she said. "With your approach you were uncertain whether it had an apple to give so all you saw was your doubt, your unknowingness, an empty space. You got what you asked for. Know that the 'Unlimited' is unlimited there is nothing it cannot give, and then ask. The results are very different."

She continued, "If a mother will give her child everything that she has to give how much more will the 'Unlimited' give to you?"

"It will give me anything," I said. "Anything I could ask for."

"Well then, ask now," she said, "and remember, only ask for what you know can be given. Instinct will tell you when you have asked properly."

"OK," I said. I closed my eyes and accepted with all my heart that there is nothing the 'Unlimited' cannot give. It has all to give. I thought of what I wanted and knew that it had it to give. I knew with certainty that I would receive what I had asked for. I opened my eyes and looked down at my hands and there it was, an orchid, exactly as I had asked.

"Brilliant!" she said. "Now let's move on."

We continued our walk around the lake. We were not speaking but I noticed that we were talking. I could hear her and she could hear me but our lips didn't move.

"What is heaven?" I asked.

"Knowing there is no such thing as hell," she replied. "Hell is in your mind only."

"What do you mean?" I enquired.

"Your thoughts deny your very being, they speak of what you are not," she said. "It is like you are asleep and dream all sorts of things. Whilst asleep you have nightmares, you find yourself in different situations, some pleasant some not so. In a moment you can wake up to the reality that you are safely tucked up in bed, warm, snug and secure. Upon waking and realizing where you are and that your thoughts were but a dream, you are in heaven; that is what heaven is."

There was nothing I could add to this.

"Come on," she said. "Let's have a paddle in the lake."

"A paddle?" I said, "Are you mad? The water will be freezing at this time of year!"

"Why do you say that?" she asked. "Do you believe that to be true or do you know that to be true?"

"Point taken," I said.

With that she ran into the lake. "Come on in, it's lovely and warm," she said.

I followed her and she was right, it was warm. She then scooped some of the water into her hand and started to drink it.

"What are you doing?" I exclaimed. "That water is filthy!"

"No it's not," she said, "it's lovely, come and have a drink."

She held out her hands for me to take a sip. I closed my eyes so as not to see the dirty water, it would put me off. With total trust in her I took a sip of the water. It went down my throat, I was amazed, it was lovely, it was wine!

"That's wine," I said.

"I know," she said. "It's an Oldie but Goldie, it never fails to amaze people."

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"There is no 'how'," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Let me ask you, can you walk across this lake?" she asked.

"Probably not."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Well, because I would sink!" I said.

"Who says so?"

"Me."

"And why do you say that?"

I thought about this for a while.

"I don't know, I just do," I finally concluded.

"So, you really believe that you cannot walk across this lake and can't turn it into wine."

"Yes, I believe that to be true," I said.

"Well then, you need to deal with that which says you can't," she said. "Whatever you say is true, will be so."

She continued, "If for a moment you doubt your theories, another reality will be waiting for you."

"So I don't need to know how to do it, I only need to remove that from within me that says I can't do it?" I said. "And then, if I say I can do it, I will?"

"Correct," she said.

We continued our paddle and drank some more wine, quite a bit more actually. We were having so much fun that I didn't want it to end. I began to practice what I had learnt but I think I had had too much to drink; I could barely stand up in the water let alone walk across it!

After a while I decided to go home. I needed my bed. But before we parted company I gave my orchid to The Barefoot Indian as we said our goodbyes.

I was too drunk to contemplate anything that evening but I did manage to grab my notebook and write the following before collapsing in a heap:

ME

My Nose - Perfect!
My Grief - Unnecessary
My Breath - Alive
My Motives - Deceitful
My Pockets - Empty
My Wealth - Endless
My Vision - Clear
My Mind - Redundant
My Heart - Open
My Hearing - Alert
My Mouth - Silent
My Judgments - Powerless
My Favorite Question - What do you mean?
My Opinions - Limiting
My Butt - Sore!
My Face - Beautiful
My Thinking - Wrong
My Ability - Amazing
My Feet - Can walk on water
My Room - Spinning!

I woke up the next morning, with a little hangover. A small card was sitting on the door mat:

Get Well Soon

Dear Trainee,

We thought it best to send you a card instead of the traditional e-mail. The computer is a little too bright and noisy for someone in your present condition. We would just like to say that you are making excellent progress and when you feel up to it, you may like to consider the following:

We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make the world. Also, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to a hill, 'go from here to there' and it will go. You can do anything.

With love from us all,

xx

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Julia Heywood was born in West Yorkshire, England. From being a small girl she has spoken with wise people who are no longer in the world. The wisdom and guidance given to her by her "wise friends" has resulted in some extraordinary experiences, which have provided her with a unique insight into the ongoingness of life.

This profound aspect of her life she kept to herself for 42 years, preferring to pursue a traditional working life, in the beauty industry. This all changed when she realized that the wisdom which had been imparted to her was for all, not just for her.

On a cold February night, the wisdom she had to share poured from her in the form of The Barefoot Indian, a book which has been described as, "a modern day fable, Bridget Jones meets Illusions and The Alchemist". Julia has been somewhat surprised but gratified to be referred to as "a story teller extraordinaire".

She now writes full time.