Good Choice: A Soul’S Story

By Barbara Cook

So a soul goes into a waiting room It sounds like the beginning of a joke, doesnt it?

No, its not a joke, but time for the big adventure. The soul is ready to start life anew. Assisted by consultants Lee and Jo, the soul ponders the many aspects of the physical world, eventually finding the exact placement needed to evolve in this lifetime. Later the four-and-a-half year-old child finds her way into the magical corner shop, where kindly old Mrs. Mills helps her to choose the protective behaviours that will see her safely through childhood.

In Good Choice, author Barbara Cook presents a fictional representation of A Souls Story, based on her personal experiences. Depicted through two of the magical and heart-warming consultations at pivotal moments on this souls journey, it offers a view of how ones existence evolves.

This book develops the consciousness of the soul by uncovering what it has always known, and allowing it to take in the divine essence of its earthly experiences. It is for anyone who wants to be healed from the inside out, to find peace in their heart, to be fulfilled and free.Maree

Its like you are in my head on this journey with me. To see it in words, and to know that you have been here and made it through gives me hope and strength. To know that this is how we feel turns pain into privilege.Stacey

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Sep 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781452530352

Barbara Cook

Barbara Cook is a teacher and a learner who lives in Geelong, Australia. Her need to live an authentic life has taken her on a path familiar to many—pain, awareness, healing, and the sense that she is a soul on a journey. This is her first book.

Book preview

Good Choice

A Soul’s Story

Barbara Cook

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Copyright © 2015 Barbara Cook.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com.au

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4525-3034-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-3035-2 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 08/25/2015

Contents

Part 1

Chapter 1 Attunement

Chapter 2 Main Theme

Chapter 3 Fortress

Chapter 4 Subplots

Chapter 5 Conditional Love

Chapter 6 Sentries

Chapter 7 Culture

Chapter 8 The Blossoming

Chapter 9 Universal Themes

Chapter 10 Past Lives

Part 2

Chapter 11 Conception

Chapter 12 Gestation and Birth

Part 3

Chapter 13 Childhood

Chapter 14 Choices

Chapter 15 Sad and Mad

Chapter 16 The Case for Safekeeping

Chapter 17 Surrender

Chapter 18 Soldier Alert

Chapter 19 PBs

Chapter 20 Body Wisdom

Chapter 21 The Gift

Chapter 22 Armour

So the sea journey goes on, and no one knows where. Just to be held

by the ocean is the best luck we could have. It is a total waking up.

Why should we grieve that we have been sleeping?

It does not matter how long we have been unconscious.

We are groggy, but let the guilt go.

Feel the motions of tenderness around you, the buoyancy.

—Rumi

For all who have been sleeping and are ready to awaken

Part 1

Chapter 1

Attunement

T he door to the waiting room sprang open, and out came a burst of sunshine in the form of dear old Lee and Jo. Arms outstretched, they welcomed me into their warm embrace and then, linking arms, led me inside.

Been waiting long? Lee asked.

No, just a bit. Perfect timing, I replied.

Wonderful, Jo said. It’s so good to have you with us again. Now, just take a seat there between ours and we’ll get started.

So I’d arrived once more in this warm place, this magical room that had the touch of a true artist. All the wonders of nature had been captured in this one indoor space. One of the walls reminded me of a dense forest, another the inside of a wave, and a third wall was like vast sunburnt spaces. A pile of granite boulders in the corner provided a perfect ledge in front of the window on the other side wall. It looked out to an ever-changing landscape of purple mountains and wildflower-filled plains. In parts, the floor was made of honey-coloured wood, but elsewhere there was thick, springy grass and a carpet of fallen autumn leaves. The light in here was warm and mellow, like sundown. On one side of the room was a round pool of brighter light that seemed to stream in from above.

I was drawn to the middle of the room and into a shimmering pod that enveloped my presence like a womb. Jo and Lee had seated themselves in the plush armchairs on either side of me. The chairs then somehow moved silently into position so that we were in a triangle facing each other and just touching.

They hadn’t changed a bit.

Lee was of an indeterminate age. Her silky long hair seemed to float around her serene and gentle face. Her softly feminine clothes reminded me of a long-ago favourite artwork. But what I remembered most of all was her stillness and strength.

Jo was ageless as well. Like Lee, he was barefoot. He wore quirky clothes in deep jewel-like colours. I could almost feel the rich texture of his jacket. He had a warm and kindly face and an even gaze with a twinkle of humour. But his calm steadiness struck me most of all.

As he spoke, I remembered the comforting depth of his voice: So, ready for the big adventure, eh? His wise deep-brown eyes held such a mischievous twinkle that I instantly remembered why I loved these two so much.

Lee was just as pleased about the whole thing. When she smiled, her clear blue eyes sparkled like diamonds. She wore a look of contented expectancy. Just as I thought it, she said, Well, let’s get started. Let’s get you a body.

The hypnotic caress of her words echoed softly in the room as the small hollows at the edges of their seats joined to provide perfect little nests for their hands to rest together. They closed their eyes, and together we sank easily into a state of total relaxation. I loved this attunement part.

The air began to pulse. Soon the softest sound began. It was a single middle note on a bell. It circled on and on, louder and softer, until the air was gently vibrating. Then a deeper tone sounded, anchoring us steady and true. Over the top of these came the crash of the deepest, mightiest gong from an ancient monastery in the mountains. I basked in the glory of this sound as it sent a shudder through the air. Next came the surprise of the most delicate waterfall of tinkling bells again, again, and again. A single higher note sent us soaring then, ringing clear and pure like a soprano bellbird in a forest.

Waves of long-ago smells began to wash over me.

Rain on parched earth … Mm.

Fine red wine maturing in oak casks.

The rotting damp of a wet rainforest.

A brand-new baby wearing that scent of soft innocence.

Roses, glorious roses! Names floated back with each fragrance. I could smell Tiffany … and was that Royal Dane? Mm … And that would have to be Papa Meilland. Glory on a stem.

A breeze blew away the scent of the roses and then brought in another smell. Hang on. I think I remember … What is that? I know that one …Then I had it. It was wet dog fur rolled in fresh cow manure!

They were being funny now. I suddenly came back and heard us all laughing.

Gets ’em every time! blurted Jo, slapping his hand on his leg. He was wiping tears from his eyes and making an effort to compose himself.

A half-hearted attempt at seriousness crossed Lee’s face, followed by a small explosion of childlike giggles.

Jo wasn’t helping. He had a way of looking at her sideways, with a lopsided grin like a naughty schoolboy. Despite a concerted attempt at a sensible expression on his face, little snorts and half-stifled guffaws kept bubbling up from his stomach like champagne bubbles.

Lee forced herself to look away from him and, after a few more gentle snickers, said, All right, we’ll get going now.

Finally they settled down.

Jo looked at me admiringly. You’re positively glowing! And as you know, smell is the link. So we always know that a soul is really ready for the transition when the sense of smell is reawakened during the attunement.

The chairs glided away from each other to be beside me again. We were now in a shallow half circle facing a central screen that had risen from the floor. Two ergonomic keyboards had risen in front of Lee and Jo, and Lee had her hands comfortably wrapped around her sphere, which reminded me of an ornate Victorian-era globe of the world.

So what’ll it be? she asked. "Do you want to do death? The screen turned blue. Or guilt? A quick touch of another key and the screen turned green. Or maybe illness—physical or mental?" She did something else, and the screen was now pink.

I knew she was asking me for the main life theme I’d decided on, but I couldn’t keep up with the screen changes.

Don’t mind her, Jo said. "We just got some new software. She’s like a kid