A Word from My Protagonist
Dear Reader,
My name is Marjorie Veil Sunwalker. Margaret Duarte, the writer of this novel, believes she has created me. She believes she has made up the events and details of my journey. What she doesn’t realize is that I have been with her for a long, long time. She was only an instrument, my interpreter.
Margaret first felt my presence during a visit to the Monterey Peninsula in California. It was August of the year 2000. She was on the 17-Mile Drive and had stopped at the landmark of the Lone Cypress. There, I gently touched her, beckoning her for the first time.
At her next stop she saw what remains of The Ghost Tree, bleached white by wind and sea. As she stood entranced, I nudged her one more time.
Finally, at the Carmel Mission, I set the trap, and she was caught. She didn’t know the hows or whys, but she knew she would write a story.
From then on, I’ve been her invisible guide. I’ve whispered my thoughts and experiences to her, lifting the veil a bit at a time. It was her job to put all the pieces together. She was to make sense of all the twists and turns that appeared along my path. She was to be my voice.
Another thing Margaret does not know is that this was also her journey. We traveled the road of my quest together. Often my surprises were her surprises, my trials became her trials, and my awakening helped her to awaken.
I give Margaret credit for taking on this large project. She was obsessed and stubborn enough to carry it through. She kept unraveling, sorting, and weaving until the invisible threads of my tale were connected into an intricate web, ready to preserve between the covers of her book.
Margaret has learned to receive my message with the single eye of her heart, instead of the eyes in her head. That’s the eye that sees inner reality and the world of Spirit.
However, she still doesn’t think I’m real. I say it all depends on one’s definition of real. The membrane between Margaret and me is very thin, and the crossing over is easy.
The path we walked together was a sacred one, not bound by space and time. Because you are alive, you may find yourself on a similar path one day, trying to open your eyes to the Sacred Mystery. We may have more in common than you think. If this novel happens to get into your hands, I hope you can join us in our dance of discovery.
By the way, Margaret is still unaware of one last thing. The circle of my life and hers is not yet complete. We have only reached the opening stages of our journey. We have only been awakened. Our story is not over.
