I'll begin by telling you that this is to be one of my 'alternative communication' posts. Haven't done one for quite a while, so if you tuned in wanting another feel-good story about LIME Cottage, sorry but this is drawing on a very different aspect of my life.
For those who aren’t familiar with my form of alternative communication, I should point out that it is very, er, alternative.
I’ve come across many people who channel and many who speak to those beyond the veil. I’ve done both, but what I do now is something else again. I have telepathic conversations with a young man I’ve known since he was a little boy. He taught me to send and receive telepathically when he was about 8. He went on to teach me wonders that astounded me.
At other times he was withdrawn, grumpy, monosyllabic and would insist that the revelations and connections to higher realms had never happened. It always confused me.
In his late teens, after some very difficult life experiences, he shut down completely. He barely left his home or spoke to anyone, he only corresponded with me via text – a word a week was normal (‘How are you doing?’/ ‘Fine’). He cut himself off from family and had no friends. He developed compulsions and became paranoid. He refused to see a doctor or therapist and so on and on. They were dark days.
And then, quite out of the blue, he began to correspond with me telepathically. It certainly ‘felt’ like him. I would sit at my computer, type questions or comments into a word-processing program and then hold my crystal dowsing pendulum over the keyboard, just as I’d done (and demonstrated to him many times) when I used to contact his mother in spirit. The crystal moved and spelled out words, which I typed.
This was different, though. For a start, he wasn’t dead. I’d be receiving one word texts from the physical him in London and expansive, fascinating insights from the telepathic him. Strangest of all, he (in the body) appeared to have no knowledge of the conversations he was having with me via my computer.
Fairly obviously, I doubted the validity of what was happening and more-or-less convinced myself that I was making the whole thing up. That was when I contacted Cynthia and Bob in New York. They, I knew, were the real deal. Cynthia channelled The Council while Bob made detailed recordings. Yes, they assured me, it was all happening, and I needed to write it all down – publish a book of our strange and wonderful friendship.
The communications have continued intermittently ever since. It wasn’t until early this month that I commented that the different aspects of him seemed to be more separate than most people’s.
YES, he responded. OVERLOADED. A BREAKDOWN IN MY TEENS.
I gasped. ‘Is that what a breakdown is? A separation of the subtle bodies?’
His response registered mild surprise that I hadn’t realised that.
Suddenly everything made sense – the way in which the magical, evolved indigo/Version 2.0 boy had vanished and been replaced by a terrified, hyper-alert young man working entirely from the limbic system – the ancient fight-or-flight mechanism at the very centre of the brain.
I recalled his angry replies when I asked how he was feeling: ‘I don’t HAVE feelings!’
He managed tasks that had a direct bearing on his own survival, but nothing else.
His life was encased in rituals and obsessions.
He was functioning without any connection to his soul.
So now, he was telling me, I was receiving telepathic communications from his mental body. A while back, when he’d been fixated on astral travel, the communications came from his astral/emotional body. All his subtle bodies were continuing to develop just fine, but independently of each other and, he reassured me, they were gradually reconnecting as he was healing. I guess that explains why he’s become able, in the last few months, to manage the occasional short phone conversation and to send me a birthday card.
Meanwhile, my discussions with his mental body continue to amaze and expand my own consciousness. Sometime soon, I’ll share with you the ‘Idiot’s Guide to Subtle Bodies’ he prepared for me.
I feel jubilant that I can finally make sense (well, to myself, at any rate) of what has been happening, and that I’ve regained a connection to the wisdom and wonder that kept me spellbound when he was a boy.