Remembering Edna (Adina Czeriek)
Edna was always off on an adventure. It didn’t have to be far away, but it was always interesting, and often for the oddest of reasons. Sometimes, we went with, on her merry way; always an adventure.
I don’t have many regrets either, other than we never went hunting for crystals on some farm or other. She told me that they were on, or just below the surface. That, would have been fantastic. What a haul that would have been. Edna was a crystal healer and a clairvoyant. Her flat buzzed with the energy of millions of crystals and stones. It’s all her fault I began the whole crystal thing. I still have some of the ones she gave or sold to me, but sadly, most of them are still in storage after 3 years now. I digress, but no detail is unimportant.
Back to the life of adventures and brave new experiences. I am remembering some of them as I write this on my phone, and the sun will be coming up soon. I’ll never sleep now and my life is a mess. I’d like to take you on a few of those trips just as she swept me along.
One day, a Sunday I believe, she took us off to a Buddhist-retreat-temple-type-thingy. She also dragged her then boyfriend with, and I’ll just refer to him, as M. Edna was a dragon. Poor M was heavily scorched sometimes. What good little Jewish man allows himself to be dragged off to a Buddhist temple by a clairvoyant who chose to be everything including Jewish.
I recall that it was about an hour or two away towards the north of Johannesburg. At one point in the afternoon, we went to the main temple. M decided to remain outside. Honestly, the poor man. Edna was a hurricane of energy, beliefs, and clairvoyance. The rest of us went in to meditate. When I finally opened my eyes, everyone was gone. To this day, I have no idea of exactly how long I meditated while they waited outside. That was so much fun, and I’ve never done it again … gone to a Buddhist retreat, that is.
On another day, she invited me — insisted, as was her way — to go with her. I often said yes. We were off to listen to Credo Mutwa give a talk. She always took me out of my comfort zone. Where she was an extroverted social creature, I am an extroverted hermit. As adventures go, this was one of the furthest trips she dragged me off on. I recall she drove for a few hours. I wish I could remember where, but I’m now the age she was then … 20 years ago.
It was to be a fairly quiet and spiritual trip. I also never saw him again, but I saw my first aura. He was an amazing old African spiritual leader. They don’t make them like that anymore. His wife physically assisted him to the fore, both of them laded with fine symbols and garb. I remember thinking he should start cutting down on all that gold weight at eighty years of age. It would make movement easier, but I jest.
His aura was magnificent. I thought I was imagining it all. It was a fiery deep red, pink, and even purplish. I leaned into Edna and whispered my findings to see if I was really seeing things. She replied that he was very tired and explained that why his aura erupted and waned. This was one of the most precious moments in my life. Edna was responsible for a few others too.
I had a partner at the time. The less said about it, the better, and Edna would retort loudly in agreement. I can just hear her snort! At that point, Edna had just begun doing guide drawings during her readings. It gave the person something to connect with, and take away after the reading. She would tell us that it was a little girl guide who liked to do the drawing. The amusing thing is that I once gave Edna some tips on drawing the inside corners of the eyes, and they began appearing under trance too. Edna was the one who pointed it out to me with great delight. The little girl was learning how to draw.
Anyway, back to the story. It’s important to point out that in the years I knew her, I only ever had two, perhaps three proper readings. The rest were all impromptu. This was mostly because we spent a lot of time together. The first one resulted because I met her in a computer shop, and she gave me her business card. It was also a rocky patch in my life. She later took me back to the same shop to train in locating dark muti, black magic.
She had done spirit guide drawings for everyone we knew but not me. I never really pushed the issue, as it was just not that important. Not so gently, my then partner decided to remind her of this fact. Being Israeli, she was not given to finesse and politeness. Annoyed at the reminder, she brusquely grabbed my forearm and as I laughed, dragged me over to the table stating that we would do it right there and then, and so began my new life.
As she drew, she just kept shuffling around the drawing, and it had very few details. They are, off course symbolic to me. Later, she apologised for the fact that it’s almost blank, but she never got much of a visual to draw. I said I knew and understood, and she said that I have no need of it like other people.
When it suddenly dawned on her that I had been a healer in previous lives, she slapped herself on the forehead. “How did I not see this,” she said, in her thick accent, and frowning. “I have to teach you a lot and there is little time.”
Incidentally, I think I still have that laminated guide drawing in storage. How I wish I could look at it again, but 16 000km is too far right now. I shall have to be patient, and hope I will once again see the few things I have left of my old life.
I replied that there was plenty of time, but there wasn’t. Things changed rather quickly after that. She taught me much of what I know; the integrity and responsibility of what we do. She taught me to remember how to heal as I had done it in many life times.
Under duress, I even healed pain she had in her elbow. She just grabbed my hand, put it on her elbow and told me to do it! I thought she might be a little crazy. My ex also used me as a headache tablet back then. It was all good practice even when at first I felt nothing of what I was doing with energies. She never taught me to be clairvoyant. I wish we had had more time.
This is my Edna. She was no saint. She was an Israeli Dragon with a huge heart. Sometimes, she was an irritating woman. She was demanding and impatient, but she was also giving, and a gift to mankind. In so many ways, we are very similar. I see how much we are alike now that I am older. Perhaps, I am just irritating where she was loved by almost everyone.
She would keep breaking her computer, and I would have to keep fixing or reinstall it for her. I would drag the damn thing back to my house to work on it away from her interference. She was a curious soul with an insatiable desire to learn and also to communicate. She would install endless shareware nonsense and every possible instant messenger program, and there were many back then. Her old computer would eventually become so slow and buggy I’d have to do a new install. She drove me nuts with this. Each time, I threatened that it would be the last time. I would spend days fixing things for her to just break the operating system again. It was hard to say ‘no’ to Edna.
In some ways, this was our relationship. She broke it, and I fixed it. She lost it, and I recovered it. I was the on-call tech support. I was broken and she tried to fix me. I needed guidance and she yelled at me and gave me a kick in the arse. She wasn’t exactly brutal, but like me, she didn’t mince words. She told it like it was, and sometimes not realising how it came across.
While I’m on about her computer, let me tell you that she was power point crazy. She was a horrendous PPP spammer. She really liked angels, power point presentations, and power point angels. I had to ask her to stop sending me the angels. The files were massive and took ages to download. We were all on slow dialups back then, for heaven’s sake. It took ages and repeated attempts to find out what the email was about, and it prevented other emails from downloading until successfully retrieved. I can’t say I miss those PPP emails, but it would make me smile if she sent me one from her celestial computer.
Her computers were a disaster when it came to filing. She downloaded endless amount of information, and I showed her how to save the info, and how to file it. There was madness in my method. She was definitely going to break her new operating system at some point, and if I could herd all her information into some logical folder, I could back it up for her. If anyone still has her last computer, it will be a wealth of information … if anyone can actually find where she saved it all, of course.
When I first got to know Edna, she was a belly dancer. I bet you did not see that one coming! Me neither, but she thought she was quite good. I wish I could look at the world and myself as she did. She loved life, and did not seek perfection. She strove to enjoy every minute. Due to health complications, I think she stopped going to the belly dancing classes, which is a pity, but she would just spring into something new.
Next, she got into mandalas. She had me applying my architectural drawing training to create many new ones for her to colour in. It was a way for her to relax and meditate. I probably still have them filed in my own archive, but sadly, I have never actually coloured in one of my own mandalas. Perhaps one day, and I know she would rejoice if I did.
I was her apprentice of sorts. It was never formally acknowledged, but that is what I was. I was an old soul relearning by tagging along with another old soul. For a while, I was with her at all the fairs she had a stand. It was an income for her, and helped her find new clients. For me, it was like being a child at the circus. I saw and met so many unusual people. I even bought a shaman rattle, and I loved it. I used it so often, but that too is in storage.
When it was quiet, she would chat to passers-by or neighbours, and failing that, she and I would talk. She would tell me about the people around me. She would teach me, and tell me what they were doing at their stalls, and if she thought they were doing more harm than good.
If it was very busy, which was good for her business, then I would either help while she was in trance, attend to people coming to the stall, or wander around the fete. Amusingly enough, I was unknowingly the gatekeeper to Edna. I politely kept people from interfering while she was busy. During one particular fair, I ran my hand down her back as I went to the rear to do or get something. Later she told me that it was like a warm flow of energy that left her revitalised and refreshed. How oblivious was I?
She also once told me that while I might feel like I was just a mule or assistant at these fairs, I served of much greater help. I was the one that kept people at bay. When I was with her, she could relax and go into a proper trance and elevated vibration. I protected her in a way. So, if you ever had a reading when I was there, you’re welcome. I have to write that because she would burst out laughing. In fact, she would be thrilled by what I have done. I really believe this, and she would have spammed everyone she knew with the links to this page.
I helped Edna with many things from physical tasks to digital bits and bobs. One of the more mundane tasks was cutting up business cards for upcoming fairs. It was during two of these evenings that profound things happened too. It was usually unexpected, but it no longer startled me.
Some of these took place in her office. One day, and it wasn’t just the two of us, she began gazing at me. From across the room, she began to speak about a previous life of mine. In short, and from what I recall her saying, I was a warrior; a leader returning from battle. Sort of at odds with whom I am in this life. I do not like violence or war. I like to think of it more as symbolic, and that she was merely relaying the message of leadership.
Curiously, she described a deep (presumably a war) scar that ran down my face from above my eyebrow onto my cheek. What is interesting about this is that I did indeed have a faint scar on the same cheek that no one saw. I never knew where it came from, and I had no recollection of ever injuring myself in that way. Right after that, it disappeared. I don’t recall exactly when it happened, but afterwards I could no longer see it. It was very faint, and you would really have to look in the right light to spot it. It was comparable a faint scar left behind by a rose thorn.
On another evening, this time on the other side of her desk, we were sitting on the ground, cutting up cards … yet again. I cannot remember anything else of that day. While we were chatting, I realised she was ‘gone’. I looked up and she had gone on holiday as she used to put it. It was no longer Edna. It was my spirit guide(s) talking directly to me. I won’t tell you the details other than the last thing they said to me was, “You’re okay.”
I burst into tears and sat there as Edna came back, beaming and happy. She always said she loved the energy she felt when she came back from a session like that with me. It was always such a positive and happy experience for her. She saw my tears and almost panicked. She began asking me what had transpired and what was said, and couldn’t relax until I told her what had just happened. That was nearly two decades ago, and I’ve not had a conversation with them in person again. Perhaps it’s my fault, but they should try harder. It feels like they went on holiday and never came back. I swear at them, you know. If she has not been reincarnated again, I nominate her as my guide replacement.
Crystal healing was her big thing. One day, she even practiced it on television. I am hazy on the details, but she asked me to go with, and so I did. I have a few really dreadful photographs of the recording. This was long before brilliant smartphone cameras. I honestly cannot even remember much about it, so I am glad for the images.
On 13 September 2003, I attended the Diva Lights crystal workshop, at her flat. I have spent a lot of time on this and bringing it to you. There is a separate page for that, and there is more to read there. It’s my last digital gift to Edna. I think it would make her happy — and not for selfish reasons either — to have some of her work live on. I’ve created documents based on her printout on that day. Yes, I brought them with me when I immigrated.
Strange things are remembered when you travel down memory lane. I was recalling when Edna contacted me from Israel in late 2009. I remembered writing about this momentous experience, but not that it was the second entry on my blog, and the second day after I began my blog too. It wasn’t until I went looking for it that I realised just how long ago it was. You can read it here.
Since my memory of our conversation is vivid, I’ll add it here, as I see I didn’t write much about it in 2009. In her inimitable fashion, she called me long-distance at great cost, and her words were, “You’ve been on my tits,” and “What’s wrong?” She had to find out why she couldn’t stop thinking about me. It was the first time I had had proper contact with her since she had immigrated, and she wasn’t very good at replying to emails. We then switched to Skype, and she counselled me, and gave me a reading, so to speak. That might have been the third and last reading. It was very informal, but it helped me tremendously through a dark period.
Edna was so enthusiastic about everything. This is the reason I have spent so much time compiling all of this. I am also doing it for myself. I went looking for her help, and instead, I am doing this for her. I want her to be remembered. I didn’t know much about her family. If they ever stumble across this, I hope this brings joy to their hearts.
I learnt of her passing a few days ago when I tried to find her. I feared that she was no longer physically here. She passed away in early May 2016. Our lives took different paths, but she is very important to me. I wish we had more contact over the years, but Edna was everyone’s. She was never one for confinement, and many shared in her enthusiasm for life, and her boundless energy. She really was one-of-a-kind, and I remember her. I can still hear her raucous laughter, even though she is only with us in spirit. I wish she would visit me.
It’s almost dawn now and I must go to my troubled sleep. I will finish writing this another day. Edna, I wish you were here to help me now. I miss you. I would give anything to hear you say just once more, “Sweetheart, it will get better.”