“Healing ancestral wounds involves not only the living, but many passed on. There are experiences and interworkings that we in this flesh form can’t fully understand. So yes, you went to Cleveland, but in the astral sense, which means your body didn’t go, but your consciousness did. The body is material so it is always fixed in one location, but your consciousness is not. In fact, your consciousness is everywhere all the time and is not limited to the confines of your body. Astral travel also unfolds in your sleep since it is not dependent on the body. Maybe you’re already starting to have those kinds of dreams?”

I remember my dream about Bryce at Ladles and wonder if that’s what it was, “astral travel.” It seemed very real until I woke up to Manda Panda stroking my face. I don’t want to confirm her science fiction malarky so I don’t mention it. Instead, I continue to stare at her in total disbelief.

“I see your skepticism. You don’t believe me. Just let me finish explaining. All will be made clear. You didn’t travel to the Cleveland you knew. You traveled to the Cleveland where all that unresolved ancestral pain and suffering went to fester until the Chosen One came to heal it. A Cleveland between physical worlds, but no less real. The healing work you did there will ripple forward in ways you can’t control. In fact, that work will even ripple here eventually. You’ll know the signs when you see them, the miracles that happen in this time-space reality as a result of your work.

“What makes someone a Chosen One is the ability to create those ripples, which can impact how people behave in timelines throughout the universe, including this one. Ultimately that change in behavior is what begins to heal ancestral lines.”

She has clearly lost her mind. Did she give me drugs? Does she work for Hypnotist Jerry? I attempt to sit up on the couch, but my body feels weak and a million miles away.

“It takes a few hours to regain strength and proper orientation.”

I lean on my forearm since I can’t hold myself up.

“You want me to believe my consciousness left my body, traveled to a plane between physical worlds, and healed my ancestral lineage. Sure.”

I laugh mockingly, like the Joker.

“Am I Jesus, then? Oh my God, now that’s ironic. A quirky, Black, poor pagan girl from Cleveland with expert knowledge of the Bible, thanks to her mother, is the modern-day Jesus. Behold, humanity, the second coming has arrived! What folly! What poppycock!”

Mad laughter fills the room.