I Love Thee – Swimflying, Family and Gluten-free Biscuits

by Alan Johnston, Pottsville

I have two sisters and a brother, all older. A few weeks ago the younger of my sisters and I discovered that we both ‘swimfly’ in our dreams. We were quietly sharing together after not having seen each other for ten years. It was a beautiful point of connection. Swimflying is dream-flying – using your arms and legs in easy swim strokes to stay aloft and glide.

For decades I have seen very little of my siblings as they all live interstate. We haven’t been close.

Our family has a thread of haemophilia recessively running through each generation – making my father, for one, very cautious and fearful. He had seen two of his brothers bleed to death from relatively minor accidents. This and other influences engendered an ingrained sense of separateness amongst us all.

However, when my brother (who I hadn’t seen in twenty years) recently asked me if I would attend his seventieth birthday, it felt right to go.

My family (like most) tries to ‘bridge’ or relate through shared stories. It turned out that there were two birthdays happening on consecutive days, and by the afternoon of day two the stories were treacle thick. Things I had long forgotten, chapters from the family mythology. I observed myself lapse into the contradiction of ‘withdrawing’ into extroversion, making jokes, keeping it light, all the while feeling the disconnection inside me. An old habit, how I have always avoided feeling the discomfort of not really staying with myself, readily downshifting into my personality to meet ‘what is expected’.

Around then, my sister-in-law – she who never speaks in gatherings – proffered some gluten-free biscuits she had clearly bought for me. This plainsong act of love was dearly felt, offering a simple reconnection.

So where does Universal Medicine come in, and how is all this different from the way I was living before I engaged with Serge Benhayon and Universal Medicine?

Well firstly, I probably would never have gone to my brother’s birthday, instead finding some reason to not attend. I would more than likely have not given myself the space to feel what felt ‘right’. Too preoccupied. Next, my ability to be with my sister, just listening and connecting and not trying to tell her how it is, has come through my own ‘homecoming’.

Homecoming (noun) – coming home to my own sense of wellbeing or love, in which wholeness there is no ‘out there’ to perform for, just an inclusiveness best expressed by the words I sometimes quietly utter to myself – ‘I love Thee’ – and the Thee is me in fullness.