Yesterday, I wrote about how I met my guide, Dinahh, in a dream. I asked him who he was and why he was sitting on my small back porch. He told me he had been with me always. His lips weren’t moving and yet I could hear him talking to me.
He came to me as a tiny wrinkled old man in a white robe. A white rope was tied at his waist. When I asked Robert l…
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