Marcela Rossiter

Aum Cafe, January 2010. Chance meeting with Marcela Rossiter, blond bubbly elderly french woman always in black. She was in Benaras to learn about Kundalini from the famous Vagyogi Vagiesh Shastri in Benaras. We connected on the spot, a sphere of similarities, we extended our chance meeting over cafe latte and humus. She is more Spanish than French, psychic capabilities of feeling the presence of dead people in places where they died. She felt the exact spot of Joan of Arc’s death in a fort, later on felt psychic connection with black man, realised he was the force that managed to get her out of hospital from a bad kidney. She realised it was him who was going to save her. Then she let go and walked and walked as a certain force from inside took her to a Church in Notredame in front of the statue of Joan of Arc, who apparently became a saint in the last years of her life. A strange series of events. Give up trying to figure it out. Its life, it cannot be figured out, discussed or even be insulted by being put into words. Give up, give it all up. No labels. This is the time I realised the trajectories and tapestries all woven into a cosmic oneness we call coincidence.