Crystal Clear – Part 2

As I explained in the previous post, I had become the owner of three very lovely Andara crystals, along with a forth, which appeared to be destined for my young friend Will, who lives across the country from me.

Before sending his crystal to him, some strange impulse made me hold it for a few moments in my hand with each of my own crystals in turn.  I suspect this was because I’d just been reading a book which spoke about quantum entanglement, and I ‘knew’ at some level, that my crystals and his needed to become acquainted with each other.  I noticed in passing that the convex face on his stone fitted rather neatly against concave faces on each of my own.  Hmm.

Over the week or so after I’d sent Will his crystal, a rather wonderful idea began to grow in my mind.  As a child and adolescent (I’ve known him since he was six) Will frequently amazed me with his psychic abilities, although in recent years these have stayed firmly buried – from me, at any rate.  More ‘knowing’ was coming to me.  I asked him whether he’d be interested in trying a small experiment.

You need to know – before I go on – that Andara crystals, apart from being glass-like, have almost no other common features.  They are found in all colours you can imagine, and some you’d probably have to hunt for words to describe.  They range from clear to opaque,  Some resemble sea foam, some have milky inclusions, others are more quartz-like.  (If you’d like to admire their beauty, I suggest checking this gallery.)  I’d told Will nothing about mine except that I had three.

The experiment ran as follows:

At a pre-arranged time, I would, on a signal from him, focus all my attention on one of my Andaras.  Holding his own crystal, he would attempt to pick up any information he could about it telepathically.  When he had enough he would text me the information he’d discovered and I would give him feedback and send a photo.  It was the first time either of us had attempted remote viewing.

The first subject

The first subject

I sat and stared and concentrated.  It’s very easy to lose oneself in these beautiful stones but I tried to ‘beam’ my awareness to him.

After 8 or 9 minutes my phone warbled at me.  There was a text from Will.

 pink purple    rigid sides

Um, yes, actually!

I took this photo and sent it to him, explaining that the crystal wasn’t as blue as this image made it appear and the purple he’d seen was more accurate.  I asked whether this was how he’d pictured it.  He said it was – and that he’d also seen the wooden background behind it.

Goodness.

That was the weirdest feeling – knowing that some part of his conscious awareness had defied space, travelled over 150 miles instantaneously and entered my living room to see what I was seeing.

We decided to have another go the following week.  I was nervous.  What if the first viewing had been a lucky guess?  At the last minute, to try to rule out telepathically sending any advance information, I selected my black iridium ‘philosopher’s stone’ Andara.

Second subject

Second subject

We proceeded as we had the week before.

There was a short waiting time and then his first message arrived:

black and smaller than last time

I told him it was indeed black but slightly larger than the pink crystal.  Then I asked if he could provide any other information.

Maybe cylindrical rectangular shape

I looked at the crystal as it lay on the table and that was just how it appeared – a rough cylinder shape with the upper face looking rectangular.  I took this photo of it and sent it over, asking whether this was what he’d seen.  Bear in mind as you read his reply that during the initial viewing I’d been holding it in my hand and turning it around slightly, looking at the different facets, but when I’d asked for any further information, I had placed it on the table in the position you see.

Admittedly not at first, when I said it was smaller, but it’s pretty much an exact image of what I thought when you asked about any other impressions.  I saw that flat diagonal face on the left as well.

By now I was totally convinced that he was actually viewing my crystals remotely.  Will simply doesn’t make things up or exaggerate.  In fact he always plays down his successes and is highly self-critical.  The odds against getting the colour and even aspects of the shape right on both occasions by chance must be ridiculously high.

There was for me the added bonus that Will and I had discovered a new interest in common and were able to have long discussions about the stones.  He seemed pleased to discover that I also saw landscapes and images in the crystals, telling me that he saw scenes with mountains and water.  I told him of a strange carved gateway I’d noticed in my black Andara. Our text conversations bounced back and forth for most of the afternoon.

Naturally, we were both expecting to work on my final Andara the next opportunity we got, but Life (and my granddaughter) had other plans.  What happened instead amazed me even more.

To be continued…

Crystal clear

Easy to be wise after the event, but I really did wake up that morning knowing that something interesting was going to happen…

Next came an email from a blogging friend in the US.  She’d had a dream and I was in it.  I was sitting talking with a group of people about my experiences concerning Andara Crystals.  Upon waking, she wondered whether I’d be interested in finding out about them.

IMG_20150222_132844Never having heard of Andaras, I checked the site she mentioned, and instantly fell in love with the gorgeous, glass-like stones.  They were unbelievably beautiful.  And expensive.  Bear in mind that I live in an area  where crystals are available at every other shop and prices to tourists are easily double what locals are charged if they shop slightly off the beaten track.

I went for a stroll through town, asking all the retailers I trusted.  Most had never heard of them.  Those who had said they weren’t prepared to stock them as too many unscrupulous dealers were flooding the market with bits of coloured glass and passing these off as andaras.

The internet was similarly cautious.  Several articles screamed, ‘Don’t buy these things – they’re fake!’  Several friends gave similar warnings.  So I did what I always do on such occasions – I went within and asked my Guides for some clarity.  They told me I could trust the site my friend had recommended and they told me the andaras would be beneficial for me and for my young aspie friend in London.

IMG_20150201_213919As regular readers will know, this friend has not been the most communicative over the last few years, except via a telepathic link I’ve forged with a higher aspect of his entity.  I duly asked ‘Higher Will’ whether I should get him a crystal too.  The reply was rather oblique.  I was told he would acquire one but I wasn’t directed to buy it for him.

Naturally I emailed (physical) him the link and asked whether he’d like me to get him one, but when there was no reply, I sadly put aside notions of getting him the beautiful green Andara I’d considered and ordered three stones for myself.

A few days later, my order arrived.  There were four – the three Andaras I’d ordered and a smaller stone in exactly the shade of green I’d been considering for Will, with a note to say the retailer had felt the need to add the extra crystal as a gift.

Right.  Magic was starting to gather.

Clearly it was destined to belong to Will, so I posted it off with an explanation of how it had come to be his.  To my surprise, he responded with far more enthusiasm than is normal.  The cursory ‘thanks’ was followed by comments about how much he liked the colour and how he’d never worked with anything like this before.  I could feel his interest being sparked and I knew the guidance I’d received had been spot on.

What happened next was not at all what I would have expected, but that will have to wait for a further post…

Divinity Within

17th-century engraving of Glastonbury I felt the need for something uplifting, at the end of what had been a rather testing day.

Noticing that a speaker I hadn’t heard before was giving a talk in town about finding divinity within – a subject close to my own heart – I decided to go along.

It’s brave, talking about a topic like that in this town; it’s something of a spiritual hub.  Although small in area and population, Glastonbury plays host to adherents of a huge and sparkling variety of beliefs.  We have Sufis, various denominations of Hindu and Christian, Buddhists, Pagans, 50 shades of witches, wizards and magicians, goddesses and many more besides.  The local events guide is bursting with invitations to engage in ritual, breathwork, healings, drummings, gong baths and awakenings.  Ascension and Enlightenment loom large in the small ads.  And yet here was this lady, standing up to tell her audience that divinity could be found within.

Her credentials were impeccable.  Not only did she have a doctorate in social anthropology, she had travelled the world and become intimate with a range of spiritual paths that made our town’s selection seem paltry.   Part of the ceiling of the Divinity School. Calmly, gently, and with great respect and reverence, she pointed out that every spiritual and religious path she had encountered came down to one thing:  There is a desirable state, which lies some way ahead.  If we are prepared to follow the prescribed path resolutely, putting our own desires aside, we may be fortunate enough to reach the promised state of bliss/enlightenment/ascension/joy or whatever is being offered.  She paraphrased further: As things stand, we are not good enough, not complete, lacking a certain something.  Our perfection lies some way off.

She had not, she insisted, had a personal awakening or mystical experience – nothing so grand.  She had, gradually and painfully, seen that the paths she had been following were missing the perfection that is already there.  She spoke of a fragment of divinity which lies within each of us and invited her audience to find their own ways of searching within for the guidance which would not take them on some esoteric spiritual path, but would involve simply going on, day after day, week after week, making mistakes, making amends and getting on with life. She looked rather sad, as if the quests for perfection with their rituals, observances and promises of a wonderful future were, by comparison, a kind of primrose path – one she missed.

2014-10-12 11.19.45Yes, it takes a brave woman to stand up in Glastonbury and tell people they are doing just fine without chanting, processing, drumming and praying, but I feel that she is right.

This is The Shift – the one that so many books were written about, so many experts spoke about just a few short years ago.  2012 would dawn, they said, and everything would change.  We would enter a New Age.  Self-empowerment would be the key.  We’d no longer be giving our power away to politicians, bankers or – yes – spiritual leaders.  It was hyped up to a ridiculous degree.  We gazed longingly at Aztec inscriptions and prophecies ancient and modern.  We waited with baited breath…

No bells, no whistles, but slowly and almost imperceptibly the change began.

A stealthy, gentle sea change is taking place as we begin to recognise that we DO in fact have the perfection we sought inside ourselves.  We are perfect, divine beings who have chosen to spend a fragment of our eternal existence exploring imperfection.  We witness dark in order to be able to see light.  We encounter pain in order to recognise and value joy and pleasure.  We have been born into a time and a culture where many ancient and wonderful paths offer wisdom and experience.  Many of us have the freedom – hard-won by our ancestors – to choose which, if any, of these to follow.

So however we decide to experience this brief lifetime, each of us – every single being – is unable to shake off our innate divinity.  It is who we really are and as we grasp that stunning understanding, so we can gently, gratefully and reverently lay aside our allegiance to those who try to lead us to what we already have.

Lime Cottage Update

Living room - then

Living room – then

A few words of explanation to those who are new to Janonlife and haven’t been following the LIME story…

Last year I took a huge step into the unknown and bought an empty, ruined shell of a place – against the advice of many, I might add – because, despite the collapsed ceiling, the cracks in the walls, the leaking roof and the rats, it felt like home in some strange way.

Owning an ancient cottage had always been a distant dream, although I have to admit, my reveries had revolved around buildings with a little more superficial charm than this one at first presented.  It was an ugly dung brown colour with peeling paintwork and an unpleasant 1950s extension at the back.  A neglectful landlord had literally left it to rot over many years.

The first six months of 2014 were taken up with structural surveyors, planning officers, solicitors and insurers.  Not fun.

Living room - now

Living room – now

The next three months revolved around electricians, carpenters, plumbers and builders.  The cottage was encased in scaffolding; the garden was lost under ever-expanding piles of builders’ rubbish and I was hiding somewhere inside amongst the dark and dust. Drilling, hammering and inane banter on tinny radios had become the backdrop to my everyday life.

I’m not pretending it wasn’t stressful and difficult, but I was kept together by the kindness of others and the endless synchronicities and small miracles that took place.  I adopted the belief that Life Is Miracles Expected, which is how the cottage earned its name.  I found that I needed only to focus on a desired outcome to any situation, and the resolution would be perfect.  The cottage’s main gift to me has been to enable me to see the whole of LIFE that way.

In mid autumn, the workmen drifted away and the cottage and I finally had the chance to bond.

“Well, at least you’ve got a blank canvas,” a friend remarked grimly, when he looked around.  True.   I’d never tackled solo decorating before, but having started on the tiny pantry and been pleased and surprised with the result, my confidence started to grow and I moved on to work on whole rooms.

The kitchen - then

The kitchen – then

I know my limits, and have a loyal, friendly band of workmen/handymen to draw on when a task is beyond me, but those limits of mine have grown fewer as I’ve mastered new skills.

When a man arrived yesterday to dismantle and freecycle an unwanted wardrobe, I was able to offer him the use of my power screwdriver.
“That’s a tidy little piece of kit,” he told me, as he finished.
Certainly is!

The kitchen - now

The kitchen – now

Even drilling holes in the 350 year old stone walls no longer holds fears for me (well not many, anyhow).

This week a specialist lime plasterer is coming to give the upstairs walls a new spring coat in traditional style.  Then I’ll be back to the paint catalogues, vintage furniture boutiques and charity shops to begin the next stage.

I suspect it will be never-ending.  I hope so, because despite the costs and the effort involved, I’m loving the creative process of renovating Lime Cottage, and I feel that the cottage is enjoying it too.

A-Thought

atlantic city at night

 

There are many ways of looking at this game of Life we’re playing.  For the purposes of this post, I’m going to narrow them down to three.

 

The first way is what it’s proponents refer to as common sense.  In their world view there is cause and effect; time travels neatly from past to present and from there, they hope, into a yet-to-be-determined future.  The world can be classified neatly into living and non-living things, liquids, solids and gases.  Things move about in the space we see before us and as long as they don’t try to exceed the speed of light, all goes along just fine.  Humans interact with this cosy,  fairly predictable world via their senses until the day they die and stop being here.

 

Now let’s move to a very different, but still widely accepted view of life – the one where ‘quantum weirdness’ holds sway.  No wonder it bothered Einstein so deeply.  It’s all rather unsettling.

 

English: Diagram of Schrodinger's cat theory. ...

 

In the quantum world, we have notions such as entanglement – the idea that two objects can forge a link that transcends space, so that the behaviour of one affects the other no matter how far apart they might be.  Then there’s the peculiar ways in which particles can move in and out of existence.  Even the most diligent scientists seem unable to locate them in both time and space at once.  It’s almost as if they don’t truly belong in the common-sense world…

 

Before leaving our visit to this counter-intuitive universe, it may be worth mentioning the role of the observer – that’s you, me or the person in the lab coat who watches what is going on.  Everything, as I understand the theory, is possible.  There is a duality in which an electron is pure potential – it can be wave, particle, both or neither until it is observed or measured.  Then, the scientists tell us, the wave function collapses  – which means that the little subject of observation becomes one definite and observable object.

 

That gloriously anarchic world of pure potential is where we find the third way of viewing life, the universe and everything – the amazing world of A-Thought.

 

I discovered the term in one of my favourite books, The Crack in The Cosmic Egg: New Constructs in Mind and Reality by Joseph Chilton Pearce.  It’s not – as he freely admits – an ideal term, but Mr Pearce had considerable difficulty finding a description for this way of thinking which wasn’t riddled with negative connotations.  When I explain what A-Thinking is, you’ll see what I mean.

 

Tarot card from the Rider-Waite tarot deck, al...

 

A-Thinking is the Fool card in the tarot.  It is the way a small child typically thinks – naive, random and with an unwavering belief in magic.  It is an unshakable conviction that anything is possible and that we and all things around us exist in a state of pure potential.  It is the complete antithesis of common sense.  A-Thinking is knowing that if something can be imagined, it can be.

 

Now I’ll tell you what the ‘A’ represents.  It is short for Autistic Thinking.

 

Just consider for a moment how society treats such an attitude in all but the very young.  I’d be hard-pressed to count the number of people I’ve known on the autistic spectrum who are patronised, laughed at, teased and criticised for the ideas they hold, for ‘wasting time’ on activities or interests mainstream society sees as unimportant or for refusing to respond to  ‘common sense’ conditioning or scientific parameters.

 

“Is there anything you don’t believe in?” I once asked my young Asperger’s friend.

 

“No,” he admitted, after thinking for a while. “It’s less complicated that way.”

 

Dissecting the Klein bottle results in Möbius ...

 

When he was about 14, that young man decided to build a time machine.  I was happy to go along with his ideas and allowed him to set up his prototype in my back garden.

Imagine a ring doughnut with sprinkles on top.  The technical name is a ring torus.  Now imagine cutting through it and somehow twisting it so that the sprinkles from one side now meet the underside next to them and it forms a whole like a 3D mobius strip (or are Mobius strips 3D already?  That was the paradox he was exploring.).  He was attempting to build this shape of indeterminate dimensions with a few discount store tarpaulins and huge quantities of duct tape.  I held the materials and followed instructions.  He became ever more excited at the prospect, despite the technical difficulties.  This little video shows roughly the concepts he was grappling with.  He had me just about believing that this was possible.  Then my decades of common sense conditioning kicked in and I became the rational scientist.

 

“Do you actually believe you can build an object that will enable you to travel in time?” I asked.

 

He looked at me then and – the wave function collapsed.  Up until that point, the potential had been infinite.  Suddenly he saw it through my eyes – a messy pile of plastic on the lawn.  The project was promptly abandoned and I felt wholly responsible.  What wonders might have taken place if I’d remained silent?

 

I’d believed the scientists.  Once we started to apply common sense – to observe and measure and rationalise, the magic vanished.

 

Now, though, I see things differently.  I no longer believe solely in the common-sense world, or even the quantum one.  I believe – as many spiritual leaders and channelled guides have been telling us – that everything IS pure potential, magic, imagination.  Didn’t Jesus say we needed to become like little children if we were to grasp what is really going on?

 

Maybe we, the observers, don’t collapse the wave function, it’s just that thinking as common-sense people, we can only observe ONE of the possibilities.  The rest are still there, patiently waiting for us to expand our perception.

 

The A-Thinkers are way ahead of the rest of us on this.  I hope to continue to learn from them – and share my discoveries with you.