So the strange and amazing tale of forays into the phenomenon of remote viewing continues. The previous two posts explain the story so far.
Up to this point, I had two main assumptions about the experiments we were doing. The first was that I was in some way conveying information to Will about crystals as I held them in my hand while he, many miles away, focussed on ‘seeing’ them. The second was that these viewings were working brilliantly because we were both using our Andara Crystals, which had some kind of link to each other. Both these assumptions were about to be blown apart by what happened next.
On the Friday before the third viewing we had scheduled, my soon-to-be-granddaughter decided to put in an appearance. Just as I was settling for a quiet evening, I received a frantic phone call. My daughter was in labour. There was no one to look after the three year old. Could I come, please, NOW?
There followed a hectic, high-speed journey across the country. I’d had 15 minutes to pack. Racing around the house mumbling, “Toothbrush… make-up… pyjamas… phone…” etc. as I hurled things into a case, with no idea how long I’d be staying, the precious third Andara stone went right out of my head and was left behind.
On the Sunday, when mother and baby were safely home and doing fine, my jumbled and sleep-deprived thoughts turned to the viewing. I am seldom without a crystal of some sort stuffed into a pocket and I was relieved to find that I had inadvertently brought a gorgeous tumbled green kyanite with rubies scattered through it – one of my favourite crystals. I explained the situation to Will and told him I’d endeavour to find a quietish spot in the house and would be focussing on a non-Andara crystal at exactly 2.30 pm.
What I didn’t know at the time – he only told me some weeks later – was that Will had already picked up on the absent third Andara, some days before I’d left home. He had also, two hours before the scheduled time, done an advance viewing for the crystal I had with me.
We proceeded as before, signalling a start and end to the session via text messages. I sat in a corner of the spare bedroom, my feet resting on my suitcase, holding my kyanite. He told me he’d seen red at first, then a clear quartz crystal. He told me it had a definite triangular shape. In his advance viewing, he’d seen the stone as a pinkish colour, but didn’t mention that.
There was quite obviously no match. He looked at the photo and simply said, “Nothing like what I saw.”
I felt my focus had been weak. I wondered if it only worked for Andara crystals. Sadly, we put it aside and resolved to try again when I was home, the next week.
It was early morning. My three year old grandson was rifling through my suitcase and found a small pouch tucked into my make-up holder.
“Wossis, Grandma?” he enquired.
“It’s my dowsing pendulum,” I said, taking the, ahem, cone-shaped rose-quartz crystal from the red fabric pouch to show him.
I never go anywhere without one of my three pendulums. I use them to get in touch with my intuition, my Higher Self, my guides. The rose quartz one is always kept in the make-up bag. As I said, I hadn’t had much sleep for several nights and – stupid as it may sound – it simply hadn’t crossed my mind that this, too, was a crystal.
A slow awe spread through my entire being as I realised what had happened. Somehow – in some utterly unfathomable way – Will had picked up on this little crystal inside its bright red pouch, inside the make-up bag, inside the suitcase, under my feet, during the viewing session, while completely missing the crystal I was holding and concentrating on.
I laid the pendulum on the pouch and photographed it, sending the picture to Will. “Any chance this is what you were seeing yesterday?”
He agreed that it was a perfect match for the stone he’d seen, while the pouch was the exact shade of red he’d seen before being able to penetrate to the crystal.
Later it occurred to me that Will and the rose quartz pendulum were old friends. I’d had it for many years. As a young boy he’d watched as I dowsed with it, taking dictation of messages from guides and his departed mother as the crystal danced across my computer keyboard, allowing him to understand that he was never alone, and that death was not the great separator he’d feared.
Was this why time, space and a succession of containers were unable to prevent him from making contact with it once again – or vice versa…?
Of course I had no idea that, had I asked him, Will would also have been able to describe the third of my Andara Crystals, despite our viewing session still being in the future. The following Sunday he told me its colour and shape, even providing me with a clear drawing of the stone. He did this from the impressions he’d gained a week and a half beforehand.
I’d now learned that his ability to view was clearly not restricted to the Andaras. It also became evident that my own focus on the object was not a necessary part of the procedure, although perhaps my presence was.
There were still many more questions than answers and we decided that our next project would be to see whether – having kick-started this ability with the crystals – he would be able to view other things. Perhaps he could pick up features of my location, for example.
On another Sunday afternoon, the answer to that would be revealed.