Psychic SatNav

 

I want to share information I’ve been receiving about the Etheric Body which, as my title suggests, is remarkably close to the kind of GPS you probably use in your car or on your smartphone.

This doll - at the core of the set - represents the physical body

Each of us has a physical body; we are incarnate – ‘in flesh’ or ‘in a meat suit’ as I’ve seen it translated.   The fact that we are IN this physical casing, though, tells us that there is more to ourselves than just that body.  We have consciousness and a soul and we are linked in to a great, overarching All That Is.  Just about anyone who is reading this (unless they stumbled here by mistake, hunting for my other blog  – http://www.steampunk-shrunk.com, people!) already knows that.  this represents the etheric body encasing the physical one

You are almost certainly also familiar with the idea of the subtle bodies – the sort of Russian Dolls idea of a range of higher aspects of ourselves that surrounds us.

Yes, I know – one minute I’m saying we are ‘in’ a physical body, the next I’m saying the subtle aspects of ourselves ‘surround’ it.  The paradox arises because these other aspects are in a higher dimension – that is, a dimension beyond 3D SPACE.  Consequently in those terms it’s perfectly possible for our souls to be in and around us at the same time.  It just makes drawing diagrams harder!

Gps, Navigation, Garmin, DeviceThink about how SatNav works:  It links in to a satellite system high above our planet and grabs a higher perspective of where we are in relation to what is around us.  When we decide on a particular destination, it can find a route and feed that back to us.  Of course because it is viewing our route from a higher perspective, it won’t distinguish between an easy, straightforward road and one filled with potholes or a removal van.  Negotiating problems on the ground is our problem.

Similarly (quite strikingly so), each of us has an etheric body which works in exactly this way.  It has access to the soul/higher self and is able to guide the physical ‘us’ where we have decided to go – as in give us clues, insights, gut feelings and synchronicities that will lead us towards an outcome we have chosen.  (This body, incidentally, is made of aether/ether, so it is not non-physical.  That’s why some people are able to see it, under certain circumstances.)  Like the GPS, it takes no responsibility for the conditions, or even the directness, of the route it sends you on: “You said you wanted to go to X, so that’s where I’m sending you.”

Something I personally find fascinating – as this was a route I chose to explore – is discovering what happens when someone decides to turn off the SatNav.  Things do get a tad more metaphysical from this point on…

Black, Dark, Darkness, ContrastAt soul level – when a soul decides to incarnate and enter the 3D world for a spell – it chooses how closely this human it is being will connect to the etheric body.  It will decide whether to be the sort of person who follows it absolutely, all the time, regardless of where it leads, or whether to just check into it from time to time, when it’s feeling particularly lost.  A third option is to abandon the body without any conscious connection to the soul and let it find its own way.

For the soul, this is simply an interesting experiment.  When our consciousness is lodged in the physical, though, the results are very far-reaching.  For that reason – Koimul explained to me – the soul does a series of major reviews of how things are working out for the human at the level of etheric connection it has chosen.  The first happens in the second year of life – at around 18 months old, when the infant is moving from telepathic and intuitive communication to the use of verbal language.  The next is at around 13, the age when abstract thought is kicking in.  The third happens as the individual is moving into adulthood, around 17.  The final review – the one that will decide how the rest of the human life is conducted – occurs around age 30.
Koimul was at pains to tell me that we also have an override: “PEOPLE ARE CAPABLE OF CHANGING THEIR MINDSET AT ANY POINT, BUT THOSE AGES ARE FOR SOULAR REVIEWS.”

So what does it look and feel like to turn off the etheric body connection?

Dead End, Sign, Cul-De-Sac, HopelessAt its most extreme, it is being lost, in full fight-or-flight panic mode.  It is the equivalent of hurtling through life screaming, “Got to turn left or I’ll hit that building!  Quick, right or I’ll go over that cliff top!” It is being in pure survival mode with no chance to relax or think or plan.

Why would any soul choose to inflict that on its human self?  I’ve watched people living that way at close quarters, and it isn’t pretty.

Well, there are advantages – the same sort of advantages to switching off the GPS in your car.  You forge direct links with the wider environment.  You can perceive and notice more than those with one eye and both ears on the SatNav.  In a car, that might mean noticing an amazing view, a distant landmark or a hawk hovering overhead.  In a human life, it can be forging direct links with aspects of the soul.  You might develop psychic abilities, perceive beyond time and space, develop knowing or ‘Caw’ (see my previous blog post for an explanation of Caw – the shorthand concept word Koimul uses).

It’s an interesting – if extremely challenging – way of being human.  Hence the Soular Reviews.

Parents will speak of how infants who were developing ‘normally’ suddenly stop and develop ‘autism’ around age 18 months.  That’s why vaccinations can get the blame.

Even the most relaxed kid can become introverted, prone to panics and meltdowns and to struggle with communication as they enter their teens.  Just hormones…?

Many ‘snap out of it’ as they exit puberty, while others move into what is diagnosed as bi-polar or clinical depression.  By about 30, there can be similar deep changes of attitude and ways of being.

For me, Koimul’s information explains a great deal.  I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

Being Grommit

Image result for wallace and gromit imagesI hesitate to write this, because there are so many people out there much better qualified to talk about it.  Still, it’s come into my head and it’s lodged there like an ear worm and won’t go away until I write it, So I suppose I’d better write…

There’s a huge amount of non-sense spoken about sensitivity and highly sensitive people, so perhaps I can add a modicum of sense, or maybe just more nonsense.

I wouldn’t generally count myself among these people (which is why I don’t feel particularly qualified to write about them) but I seem to have some kind of magnetic attraction to them.  They keep showing up in my life.  Once they are there, they tend to stick around.  Whenever that happens with people in our lives, it means we have something to teach or learn from each other – probably both.

So let me give you a very personal, no-holds-barred snapshot of how it feels to be a neuro-typical individual, living and working amongst highly-sensitive people.

They’d like to fit in with the rest of us.  They really would.  It would make their lives so much easier and they know this.  Some of them elect to go down the route of medication aimed at suppressing their sensitivity, dulling their responses and turning them into rather sad but apparently average people.  Many, many more prefer to self-medicate, using recreational drugs and/or a mixture of caffeine and alcohol to render their daily lives (or at least parts of them) more manageable.  Both of these seem to me a tragic waste – partly because of the unpleasant side-effects and partly because all these substances mask the true essence of who they really are.  Nevertheless, I understand the reasons behind the choices.  For those of us living and interacting with these people, we’re faced with a double problem of trying to understand their innate differences from our way of being and to deal with the challenges faced when dealing with anyone who is drugged up.

I frequently feel hurt, offended, rejected and dismissed by those I care about and love who live within this spectrum of being.  As a ‘typical’ person I crave affection – and some occasional expression of this, attention – such as responses to messages or to be looked at once in a while, reassurance that I’m getting things right, and trust.  I’ve discovered, slowly and painfully, that I will only get any of these by explaining my needs very carefully, providing detailed instructions on how I would like the person to react and then being satisfied with what they are able to provide, even if it does feel more like a rehearsed trick than a genuine, spontaneous action on their part.

Does that sound terribly harsh?

If we look at it from their perspective, they do NOT lack emotions and feelings.  They have them in such abundance that their fragile human bodies are just about incapable of containing them.  They probably dealt with this as newborns by screaming endlessly, as children by throwing tantrums or head-banging, as adolescents by almost total withdrawal from society and family and immersion in music, video games or self-harm.  During that long, painful process, they have learned to suppress almost all emotion, except fear and anxiety, which just won’t go away.  They care and want to please as much as anyone, but it’s deeply scary for them, and any tiny steps they can take should be welcomed with deep gratitude by those of us who can’t even imagine what it is costing them.

They know and feel and see things we don’t.  They’ve learned that in our society, people who know more than others are usually considered clever, so they can easily become so supercilious and self-opinionated that I want to punch them.  They’re frustrated when we don’t get what seems ludicrously obvious to them.  I find myself thinking, ‘Good grief, here you are, treating me like a five year old, when you can’t even walk into a shop and buy a pack of underwear.’

So why is it like this?

In my opinion, all of us are – first and foremost – pure consciousness.  You can call it soul or spirit if that works for you.  We have all chosen to bring a portion of this pure, rarefied consciousness into physical bodies – to be born as humans.  It involves a fair bit of give and take to do that.  If you think of the consciousness as Light, there is only so much we can squeeze into a human body.  Most of us have been happy with that trade-off as it means we can experience physical existence and use this unique way of (human) being to grow in a way that can’t be achieved otherwise.  Image result for wallace and gromit images

Now think of the way consciousness works.  There is an innate wish to push the boundaries – to go farther, faster, higher than anyone else has done.  Consequently, ever-growing numbers of conscious beings are trying to squeeze more and more Light into the frail, delicate human bodies they are being born into.

It means the fit is not great.  They can’t bed down into their bodies so easily and some of the Light isn’t properly held in.  I keep getting this mental image of Wallace frantically screaming, “Grommit – these are the Wrong Trousers!” in the wonderful Aardman animated film!

Image result for wallace and gromit imagesAnd I often feel like poor old Grommit, frantically trying to avert disasters and melt-downs, and help my enLightened friends, students, relatives and acquaintances to fit into the crazy trousers-of-life they’ve entered, while assisting them to understand that yes, the world DOES need the Light they’ve brought with them and that their brilliance is an absolute gift to all of us.

So stay with us, all you wonderful Wallaces.  Try your best to function in those trousers.  We Grommits will keep trying to help you in every way we can – because that’s why WE incarnated.

 

 

Savant

Fire, Open, Hot, Old, Paper, BurnSometimes all I need to organise the thoughts tumbling randomly around my head is the right words to express them.  Once the thoughts can latch on to words, they can be verbalised and shared.

So my Seth reading this week has focused around what he defines as the two methods of obtaining knowledge available to us humans:  There is the ‘reasoning mind‘ (human mental activity in a space and time context) and ‘immediate knowledge‘ (what I’d term access to the Akashic Field).

I noticed two things in particular in his complex and brilliant explanation.  Firstly, despite existing ‘out of time/space’ Seth himself does NOT put down the reasoning mind.  On the contrary, he says it is a unique and brilliant process, which makes us human.  He adds that we only have a reasoning mind because we don’t know everything.  It is our lack of knowledge that makes us attempt to reason things out, and our achievements have been, and continue to be, truly remarkable.

The second thing I noticed is that in his book (written in the late 1970s/ early ’80s) he makes surprisingly little mention of the human ability to access the immediate knowledge he speaks of.  He explains how a spider spinning a web or a beaver building a dam are not following ‘blind instinct’ as science would have us believe, but without the ‘reasoning mind’ to get in the way, they are performing creative acts based on the overarching ‘immediate knowledge’ that is available to all of consciousness.  Fantasy, Castle, Cloud, Sky, TowerWe humans connect with it in infancy (before reasoning takes over) and in dreams, he says.  However the enormity of what we experience in dreams is too much for the reasoning mind to process, so it either forgets or turns the fragments of knowing into symbols which it can process.

Would it be different if Jane Roberts were still alive and channelling him today?  I suspect it would.  I suspect that humanity has undergone subtle changes in consciousness over the last 40 years.  As a teacher/tutor for most of those years, I watched with wonder and delight as each new intake of children contained increasing numbers who were still very much in touch with – and able to access – ‘immediate knowledge’.  The authorities often labelled these children as having syndromes and disorders, so difficult was it for the educational psychologists to understand that there were other ways of knowing beyond reasoning.  I, on the other hand, have always loved working with such kids, learning from them and picking up from them ways to get back in touch with the immediate knowledge which exists beyond time and space.

Light, Staircase, Lighting, ArchitectureThen, quite suddenly, Seth used the word ‘savant’ and another piece of knowledge fitted into the puzzle.  The word has usually been applied (and was used in that context in his book) to non-verbal autistic people who demonstrate incredible skills or feats of memory – super fast mathematical calculations, drawing whole city sky-scapes from memory, playing an instrument without any tuition and so forth.  I smiled, remembering the 8-year-old aspie I once taught who had ‘memorised’ an entire two page list of phone numbers he had seen once in his home, and had run up a huge phone bill for his parents by calling all these people for a chat!

So I’d argue that – since around 1980 in particular, but in smaller numbers before that time – we have been fortunate enough to share our lives with a group of people who are managing (not without difficulty and stress, I might add) to live physical lives yet to keep open a link to the ‘immediate knowledge’ that is Akasha or The Cosmos, and is entirely limitless.

Let me finish with a Will story:  A few weeks ago, my brilliantly ‘connected’ aspie friend Will had told me that he sometimes feels he ‘knows’ things about people he passes in the street.  He’d not been able to verify his knowledge, so more-or-less dismissed it.  However it just so happened that we were contacted by a gentleman in the US who asked whether Will could identify a medical condition he was suffering with and give him some guidance on what caused it.  Not only did Will correctly pinpoint a condition affecting this man, he also formed a mental image of what he looked like.  When I later Googled the man and found and sent Will a photo, he said that was markedly similar to what he had seen.

Curious, I then sent him the name of a friend of mine – someone he has never met or heard me speak of.  Within minutes, he told me she had black, shoulder length hair, described the decor in her home, told me she had mobility problems which particularly affected one side of her body and identified that she was having particular stresses at this time with her children.  Everything he said was 100% accurate.

THAT was ‘immediate knowledge’ – no reasoning involved.

 

 

My Life on Hold?

Innovation, Box, Man, ThinkingAn interesting one this:

I was recently told by a well-meaning friend that I was ‘putting my life on hold’ for the sake of accommodating the complex needs of my friend Will.  She pointed out that I ‘give up’ every Sunday afternoon to work with him on remote viewing (“Can’t he do it at other times?”/ “Well he tries sometimes, but he copes best when routines are set up and feels most comfortable that way.”).  She added that I’d undertaken a six hour round trip to London to possibly spend a short time meeting up with him (I LOVE my coach trips to London and meeting with him was the icing on the cake of an otherwise enjoyable day), that I give huge amounts of time and energy to assist him in maintaining our contact and am always putting his needs before my own.

So that set me thinking.  A lot.

If I say I don’t begrudge any of the time or effort I spend trying to work within with the limitations his social anxiety and bouts of depression and withdrawal place on our relationship, I run the risk of being labelled co-dependent.  That one has been levelled at me, too, on several occasions by people who – again – feel I’m ‘wasting’ my life.

Strange how our society views the way we spend our time, don’t you think?

Afternoon Tea, Tea Cup, Tea 壺I suppose I could be spending those ‘given up’ Sunday afternoons pootling around Somerset in the car of the aforementioned friend, stopping off for a cup of tea at a garden centre somewhere.  I could spend them watching old movies on TV.  I could read a book or check Facebook.  There are many things I could do.  Glastonbury, Cathedral, Ruin, Henry ViiiYet I choose to hold groundbreaking conversations with a brilliant young man, whose originality and psychic skills never cease to amaze me.  I choose to travel to interesting places – ancient sites, bustling cities or interesting landscapes – so that he can sit in his home, remotely view my location and, in ways that are a mystery to us both, send detailed sketches or written descriptions of the place I’m in.

Which of those would be a ‘waste’ of my time?

I’d argue that none of them could ever be a waste.

I’d argue that my life is never ‘on hold’.

I’d argue that my ‘Life’ – or the portion of it that I’ve chosen to spend embodied as the human I am currently being – is a precious gift my greater self has given to me.  It’s all about experiencing through my senses, in a way that isn’t possible when I’m in spirit.  It’s about learning through those experiences.  It’s about adding to the cumulative knowledge and awareness of All That Is.

Head, Wireframe, Face, Lines, WaveMore than that, I believe that every single one of us has a ‘pre-planned’ life purpose, or theme – something we’ve decided in advance to work with in this particular lifetime.  That could be exploring aspects of illness/wellness, of poverty/wealth, of victim-hood/control or one of a thousand other explorations.  Aspects of that pre-selected theme turn up repeatedly in people’s lives.  They have been born in this particular era, at their particular location, the better to encounter situations and other individuals who will push them to explore and discover.  Once a ‘lesson’ is learned, a new situation will appear, to allow the person to put their new knowledge into practice.  That will, of course, throw up a new set of challenges and discoveries.  And so it goes, until we finally decide (at soul level, usually) that we’ve gleaned all we can from that life.  At that point, we move back into spirit and, perhaps, decide what we’d like to explore on our next sojourn on the blue planet.

I watch with wonder and delight as my interactions with Will allow me to explore our relationship with the non-local and the vaster aspects of our psyche.  I also take great joy from the opportunity he gives me to explore aspects of Autistic Spectrum Perception.  Each fresh discovery or revelation allows me to work more effectively and appropriately with him and with the other ASP young people I encounter.

So I know – absolutely KNOW – that my life is ‘on purpose’ and is as fulfilling and amazing as I could wish it to be.  No matter how I choose to spend it and how pointless or foolish my activities may seem to others, I – like every other human, being – am learning, developing and making the most of everything this experience has to offer.

 

When Worlds Collide

People, Bus, Commuting, Public TransportA three hour coach ride passes so much better when you find yourself seated next to someone interesting to chat to.

My neighbour yesterday was, it emerged, travelling to London for a brief, bittersweet half day with her daughter.  It was the girl’s birthday.  She’d booked herself into a posh hotel in the West End.  They were to have champagne, then lunch somewhere luxurious.  The daughter would unwrap her presents then – ‘a comfort sack’ with such items as a thick duvet, pillow and covers, hand warmers, hot chocolate mix…  Tomorrow the young lady will take all her spoils and return to Greece, where she works for the UN, caring for the refugees.
“It’s so desperately cold there, Mum,” she’d told her mother. “Just so desperate”.

Lesvos, Island, Mytilini, GreeceI wondered how it felt for that young woman to move between those two quite different worlds – her opulent English lifestyle and the squalor and tragedy of the transit camps.  How must the smells, the sounds, the sickness and pain feel to someone who has grown up in such a different culture?  How, indeed, must it feel for the inhabitants of the camps, wrenched from their lives in such violence and terror?

 

“And you?” my neighbour enquired.  “Why are you going to London?”

“Oh,” I said, with a slight smile, “I’m probably going to enjoy a few hours in the British Museum.  And I might be meeting a friend.”

Well it was a long journey, so gradually my story came out too.  If we did meet, it would be no less shocking and difficult a transition for my friend than her daughter’s move to Greece had been.

Sport, Exhausting, To Clench TeethJust as the refugee camps would seem overwhelmingly disgusting and sickening to us – their sights, smells and emotional charge far beyond what we feel able to cope with – so our world is, for people like my friend.  For him, and so many other super-sensitive people who live with autistic spectrum perception in its many and amazing forms, our world – in all its raw, visceral physicality can be almost too much to cope with.  Their senses are easily overwhelmed by what, to us, would seem trivial.  Their anxiety never sleeps.  Their fears grapple constantly at their throats with sharp, threatening fingers.  Small wonder so many would prefer to remain in the insular, relatively safe surroundings of the worlds they have built for themselves.  Why – given the choice – would they venture out into the uncertainties of our unfamiliar and terrifying world?

The answer is the same as for the young lady working for the UN – compassion, humanity, generosity of spirit.  They want to help us.  They want to build bridges.  They want to reach into our world and show us their perspectives.  If they manage it, we will be so much richer for it, but if they don’t, we have no right to criticise them.  Every single day, they struggle to do what they can to reach into our world.  And there will be days they just can’t.

When I reached London, he was still at home, holed up in an agony of indecision.  If he managed a meeting, it would be the first for many years.  The least I could do was to make it as easy as possible for him.
‘No rush,’ I messaged.  ‘I’ll head for the museum. Text me later if you feel able to meet somewhere.’

An hour later I was a stranger wandering in the world of the Abyssinians: huge bas-reliefs of Kings and courtiers.  ‘Spirit helpers’ with the heads of eagles and small handbags held objects like oversized pine cones against the backs of the humans’ heads.  Why?  Pineal gland connection perhaps?  What was in the bags?  What favoured realm had these beings descended from, to help their human counterparts?

Then my phone pinged.

‘I’m going to come.  I’m in central London.  Shall I meet you at the British Museum or elsewhere?’

‘The museum’s crammed with people,’ I told him, when I’d had a moment.  ‘Let’s meet in one of the squares nearby.’

On my way out I paused to stare in awe once again at the Rosetta stone, that magical jigsaw piece that had given the modern world a way into the world of other races at other times.  For me, at that moment, the stone became a talisman, allowing my world and my friend’s to come together for a short while.

Seat, Iron, Metal, Bench, Seat BenchBloomsbury, like much of London, has many lovely, peaceful squares – small oases of calm and greenery amidst the hubbub of traffic and commerce.  I selected a calm, pleasant open space where I felt he’d be most comfortable, sat on a bench and waited.  I sat at one end and placed my bags beside me, knowing he’d need more body space than most would consider normal for lifelong friends.  I remained seated when he arrived.  No exclamation of delight, no bear hugs or grasping of hands.
“Alright?” he said simply.
“Yes,” I said quietly.  “And well done.”

Old friends.  Old friends.  Sat on a park bench like bookends.
Paul Simon’s song echoed in my mind from another of my distant worlds.

I’d written much of what I wanted to say on paper.  He finds the written word easier to handle than speech – less unpredictable.  So for the first few minutes he sat and read in silence.  Then we talked.  He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead; body language and facial expression are confusing for him, so it’s easier if he cuts them out.  Still there were deep discussions and moments of humour, with both of us laughing out loud.  There were connections and shared memories of times when we’d spent so many days and hours together.  It was wonderful.

And because I know he finds transitions difficult, I made the decision on when to leave.  Or perhaps the weather did, as the rain that had been threatening all afternoon eventually began to fall.

Neither of us said, “See you soon.”  Who knows?   And what does it matter?  Our worlds had come together for that short while without any explosions or disasters and we are closer for that experience.

Synchronise your watches…

So where did it start, this little chain of perfect synchronicities?

I think a couple of weekends ago, when Will (my remote viewing partner) sent me a message.   I was better able to understand his thoughts when I received this message on Facebook, the next day.

You see Will is an Aspie.  He isn’t so bothered about making value judgements about how ‘good’ or ‘not good’ something is.  He just likes to analyse the way it is.  The way he had analysed our remote viewing experiences was, roughly, that since he wasn’t getting consistently perfect results and since many people were biased against such a non-mainstream way of viewing locations, it had disadvantages compared to using Google Earth or similar technology to view a remote location.

I couldn’t fault his logic.  I couldn’t even put my finger on what made me feel rather sad about it.  It was something like remote viewing feeling rather special and magical, and brilliant as GPS may be, it didn’t tick the same boxes for me.

I couldn’t deny that our viewings were rather mixed in quality.  Sometimes they’ve been spot on, but often they were rather wide of the mark.  Neither of us had been able to figure out what affected that.  We’d tried a few theories but nothing had given him the accuracy he was seeking.

So there’s the trigger.  Now for the synchronicities:  (For anyone reading who isn’t sure what synchronicity is, it’s a state in which normal cause-and-effect is augmented by an extra layer of reality.  It can appear like a series of bizarre coincidences, but there is a definite intelligence and consciousness embedded in it and organising it.  The individual is led along a path towards a new level of understanding or an experience they have chosen at soul level to receive.)

Graphics, Wallpaper, The BackgroundA night or two after Will’s message, I decided to watch TV.  I don’t often do that.  There was a repeat of a programme about the mind of Einstein.  I’d seen it before but I felt very drawn to watch it again.

A scientist was using impressive CGI to demonstrate how an object could only definitively be located if, in addition to the north-south, east-west and up-down co-ordinates, you added in TIME.  That was because, she explained, objects are not always and forever in the same place.

I was impressed with that.  It was a very clear and tidy explanation.  I didn’t, at this point, link it to anything else.  I just had a strong hunch that I didn’t need to watch any more of this programme.  I found myself getting irrationally irritated by it and turned it off.

‘So what shall I do now?’ I asked myself and another strong hunch came along.  I felt drawn to go to my computer.

There was nothing I needed to do on it.  I’d already spent quite a while staring at the screen earlier in the day.  I didn’t want to!  I picked up my dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen, intending to do the washing up.  As I opened the kitchen door, the hunch was almost screaming at me: ‘Go to the computer!  You need to channel.’

Right. Okay.  Got it.

Feeling bemused, but knowing it was right, I opened Word, typed in a message to my Guides saying I felt drawn to speak to them and asking if they had something to tell me.  Then I picked up my crystal dowsing pendulum and waited for it to start swinging about over the keyboard, picking out the message I would receive.  I barely use this method these days, but the pull to do it was too strong to ignore.

Within moments, we had connected and my guides were telling me they wanted to give me some information on how Will and I could improve our remote viewing.

Wow.

The message came through incredibly clearly.  They told me remote viewing was not a form of telepathy (that was one of the ideas we had recently been debating) and that when I tried to telepathically ‘send’ my location to him, I was inadvertently causing a fog around myself.  I was to stop doing that and just focus on being where I was, leaving the ‘finding’ to Will.

Next, they told me Will hadn’t been using the time co-ordinate when he viewed me.  Let’s say I planned to be in a specific location at 2pm.  He would do the viewing at that time and I’d be in position.  Sometimes, though, he picked up somewhere I’d been ten minutes before.  That, my guides were explaining, was because he wasn’t specifically searching for me at the set time.  If he focused on me AND the time, he’d get much more accurate viewings.  I chatted through a few of our recent near misses and they were even able to tell me where Will had ‘seen’ me – usually in a place I’d looked at and passed on my way to the target.  They pointed out that as long as he put in the time co-ordinate, he could do the viewing at any other time in his life – before or after the target event.

So time, like space, only exists within physical realms.  It merely acts as a marker when you’re dealing with realms beyond our three – or rather four – dimensions.

Very excited, I sent a transcript of my channelled conversation to Will.

Ship, Tanker, Oil, Transportation, SeaA couple of nights later I went to a lecture on psychic phenomena.  The speaker told the story of an expert remote viewer who had done a ‘real time’ live viewing on TV – even seeing an oil tanker arrive on the scene while he was viewing it – but later confessed that he’d actually done the viewing the previous day, before the target destination had even been chosen!

Needless to say, I passed that information on to Will as well.

The following weekend he did a series of very accurate viewings of places I’d been earlier in the day.  In each case I’d merely noted the time I was there and later asked him to focus on me at that time.

Today we did a ‘live’ viewing, but followed my guides’ advice.  Once again, he got the clearest of viewings.  For him the ‘dominant building’ – which he described extremely accurately – was the one I was beside at the given time.  There were far larger structures nearby, but he saw them as fainter.  In other words, he had located me (the object) in time and was able to pinpoint my position.

Will has revised his opinion of the usefulness of remote viewing in light of this new information.  He’s been very satisfied with our recent results.

Me?  I just love synchronicity!

 

 

The Symptoms of Normalism

Distribution, Normal, StatisticsNot easy, but I’m trying, for a moment, to look at my tribe – the people who regard themselves as ‘normal’ or ‘neuro-typical’ – from the outside.  I’m trying to see us from the perspective of those Version 2.0 people who are wired differently.  (I’ve reverted to my ‘Version 2.0’ label because not all of them are on the autistic spectrum as it is normally described.  Many are – but there are others, variously called ‘sensitives’, or ’empaths’ or those with various diagnoses or descriptions of differentness, and I wish to include them all.)

Disclaimer:  I use the term ‘Normal’ throughout this article in a somewhat ironic sense.  I personally consider terms like ‘normal’ and ‘disordered’ to be chauvinistic and symptomatic of what is wrong with common assumptions in our society.  Also, I am a person with ‘Normalism’ and I love words.  I can’t imagine life without their richness and beauty.  This post is just a thought experiment, okay?

 

Probably the most difficult aspect of Normals to comprehend is the disparity between what they say and what they actually feel or think.

“No, it looks great on you, honestly.”

(‘It would actually suit someone twenty years younger much better, but I understand you’re going through a bit of a mid-life crisis and if it makes you feel good to wear it, that’s fine by me.’)

“Oh it’s nothing.  Really not worth reading – just something I scribbled off last night.”

(‘I poured my heart and soul into these words, but I’m terrified you won’t understand and will dismiss them as trivial or stupid, so I’m pretending it’s not important to me in order to shield myself in advance from any critical comments you may make.  Anything hurtful you say will still upset me deeply, though.’)

“Well who’s the teacher’s pet, then?”

(‘I feel envious of the praise you received for that assignment and my inability to produce anything that good.  I am therefore attempting to make you feel uncomfortable.  It is my hope that my negative reaction to your success will encourage you to try less hard in the future, thus letting me gain more approval from the teacher.’)

Professor, Mathematician, Scientists“It’s important for you to get an expert opinion.”

(‘You are inferior.  You are incapable of reaching a satisfactory answer, due to the prejudices and fixed ideas lodged in your brain.  There are far better individuals than you whose prejudices and fixed ideas come for other individuals with letters after their names.  These people know what is best for you, despite not knowing a great deal about you.  I know this because I learned it from experts.’)

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

I’m aware as I write this that I live in southern England, an area particularly renowned for this kind of double-speak.  Northern Brits, Americans and Australians, for example, would readily assert that they are far more inclined towards plain speaking, calling-a-spade-a-spade and otherwise using spoken language to express what they feel.  Really?  Try, for just one conversation, to avoid any sarcasm, any ironic aside, any well-meant but artificial compliment, any indication that you sort-of agree, despite the fact that you don’t, or any self-depreciating statements that are not in total resonance with what you feel.

Silver Leaf, Lunaria, SilberlingYou’ll argue, perhaps – you Normals – that without such social niceties, speech would be brutal, hard and cold.  People would be offended.  They might take against you.  They might (this is the greatest fear) not flatter and praise you in return.  Normals require an almost constant drip-feed of approval.  Without this, paranoia sets in.  That’s why Normals struggle in their contact with the other tribes.  The Asperger guy is not going to tell you that you look good, that it’s great to see you, that he’s glad you came.  You’re there; he’s there.  No more to be said.  Normals are needy, though.  They want that stuff.  They’ll cheerfully relinquish honesty to get it.

In a previous post I mentioned the 7 year-old Version 2.0 child who came to me distraught after a quarrel with his friend.  “She told me she was sorry,” he said, “but I can see into her heart and that isn’t the feeling that’s there.”
It wasn’t the quarrel that had upset him, but the fact that his friend didn’t respect him enough to share her heartfelt feelings. She insulted him by feigning an apology.

If the Version 2.0 people can ‘see into someone’s heart’ (all this is explained far better in the previous post, written by The Snacking Sage and in Suzy Miller’s important book ‘Awesomism’), nothing but honesty will do.

The small child who asks, “Why are you sad, Mummy?” and is told, “I’m not sad, dear.  I’m fine,” by a mother who attempts to conceal the truth because she doesn’t want to worry him will – obviously – worry all the more if he knows he’s being lied to.

Looking Up, Hope, Black White, PortraitThere are more of these Others – these Non-Normals – than might be imagined.   They are way-showers.  They can teach Normals – if we’ll truly stop chattering and listen to their silence – to discard the fake conversation and to return to the openness that is a natural by-product of telepathic communication.

Yes, I can see that there would be difficulties and challenges, but ultimately, aren’t we all yearning for greater transparency?  Aren’t we, after all, sick to death of being lied to and cheated by those in authority, by multi-nationals who mislead us for their own profits, by those who claim to be acting in our ‘best interests’?  It’s worth considering that there are many individuals who are similarly sick of the lack of honesty in ‘Normal’ social interaction.

This is only a personal viewpoint, but I suspect the ‘shift’ that occurred around 2012 involved a fundamental change of mindset amongst humanity – a desire to move beyond ‘them and us’ towards a fairness and openness based on personal responsibility, not the imposition of rules by a corrupt leadership.  That could work, if only we could communicate heart to heart.

 

Communication – another way?

Face, Soul, Head, Smoke, Light, SadI’m aware that I’ve gained a few new followers recently – thank you so much and welcome to my ramblings and wonderings – so I thought it might be a good time to briefly explain the William connection before launching into another post about him and autistic spectrum perception.

William is a young man in his mid twenties, whom I met almost 20 years ago.  He began as a pupil in a class I was teaching – a class for kids with speech and language difficulties.  A set of circumstances which might be considered very strange, if you didn’t believe in pre-planned soul contracts, caused our paths to cross and re-cross in many ways, so that even now we are the best of friends.  Despite the fact that he is only able to communicate with me through text and email at present, I still have longer and deeper communications with him than with anyone else I know.

School, Teacher, The PupilSo yes, to begin with I believed my role was to teach William to communicate.  He had oral dyspraxia, which meant he had a very limited range of speech sounds.  Additionally he was on the autistic spectrum, which meant that social communication – reading body language, facial expressions, tone of voice etc. was challenging for him.  He made excellent progress, no denying that.  However at the same time, he and a couple of his classmates began teaching me other ways of communicating – ways I’d never dreamed of.

Alan could ‘beam’ states of mind into my head.  I didn’t have to be facing him, or even thinking about him, to find that I was aware that he was feeling angry, frustrated, impatient or in need of help.  Martin’s speciality was sending words to me.  I could ‘hear’ what he was saying, although no words had been spoken aloud, sometimes from across the building.  Once I spotted him and made eye contact, he’d give the briefest of nods, meaning, “Good, you got it.”

William was on another level entirely.  “I think,” he told me, rather deferentially, one morning when he was about eight, “I should tell you that I’m telepathic.”
He waited, a slight smile playing around his lips, for the full impact to sink in.
“You mean you can read my mind?” I asked, suddenly feeling horribly exposed.
He nodded, allowing the smile to break loose.

Of course the children used this form of communication amongst themselves all the time.  I’d often wondered how a bunch of kids with only the most rudimentary verbal language abilities were able to engage in imaginative games, with each of them understanding their role perfectly.  Once William twigged that I was sometimes able to pick up snippets of their telepathic communication, he took it upon himself to tutor me in these skills, although never overtly.

It’s subtle, this hidden communication – infinitely so.  By comparison, spoken language is crass and imperfect.  Our labels and descriptions, no matter how extensive our vocabulary, are often open to misinterpretation or simply inadequate to convey our true intent.

Having spent a lifetime closely observing children of all ages, and in particular watching my own three and my two grandchildren develop language, I firmly believe that all humans begin life with the subtle, non-verbal language.
“Oh, she understands so much of what we say,” parents will tell you as they cradle an infant in their arms.
Maybe. I suspect the tiny person is understanding far more of what the parent thinks. I also believe she is using this telepathic (for want of a better word) skill to communicate her needs to the mother. Most would not put this at more than a ‘close bond’ between mother and child.  What, though, if it’s something far greater?

Learning, Telephone, To Call, AlarmOnce they had learned to speak clearly and to follow the conventions of conversation, my little students more-or-less ceased using their telepathy.  Our society places great value on effective spoken and written language.  The children – Will included – worked diligently to improve these.  I was busily congratulating myself on our success and only dimly aware of what we had lost in the process.

As I’ve said, though, this was a soul contract, and although the children  went their different ways and I moved back into mainstream teaching, William and I still had far more to teach one another.

We stayed in touch.  Sometimes we’d have long, rambling, fascinating conversations that would last for hours, and I’d be amazed at how brilliantly he’d picked up the ability to speak.  At other times, though, he’d withdraw for days, weeks or even months at a time.  Conventional language caused too much stress and the best I could hope for was a single word text to let me know he was still alive or a ‘beamed’ impression of his state of mind.  Not great, usually.

Now it’s come full circle.  Yesterday, William sent me a draft article for inclusion in his second book.  It’s a stunner.

He begins by explaining how it is for people on the autistic spectrum to attempt to learn social communication.  Ruefully, he says:

Having to learn such skills is generally very difficult and time consuming. An analogy may be learning a second language which for the vast majority, autistic or not, is again very difficult and time consuming. And even then, few who learn a second language can match the fluency and competency of a native speaker whose language skills developed naturally as part of growing up.

He bemoans the fact that, despite this, the non-autistic population expect perfection from those challenged in this way.

Later, he begins to consider the reason computer-based language is easier for ASP people to manage:

Man, Notebook, Continents, Binary, CodeMany autistic people demonstrate a good level of competency with computers – likely to be linked to their operation depending on clearly defined protocols and mathematics, things which are very different to how social communication and interaction works.  Most communication between people which occurs via computers is in a written format, offering a greater similarity with the clearly defined operating protocols of a computer, since written communication often takes a more formal and literal interpretation of language than face to face communication.  This also removes the need to attempt to understand body language and tone of voice – things often problematic for those with autism.

Only in the final paragraph does he allow his thoughts to wander into that other type of communication – the early ‘telepathy’ and our more recent forays into ‘remote viewing’.  William isn’t certain that either of these terms fully encompass or describe what is actually taking place.

[ASP people] have a naturally different method of accomplishing [communication].  What exactly that method is I don’t believe is fully understood at present by either autistics or non-autistics.  I don’t believe the correct words have been attributed to autistic matters to describe or explain it properly.  I suspect at some point this will be achieved and hopefully will allow for autism to be harnessed to it’s full potential and remedy the blindness of so many.

I hope so, William.

 

We are still compiling The Words of William Volume Two.  Volume One is available via Amazon as a paperback in the UK, Europe and North America and as a Kindle edition worldwide.

 

 

The Words of William

This year, William, my young aspie friend, turned 25.

It really isn’t my place to talk much about his life now; he’d prefer not to share personal information and I feel I must respect that wish.

Graffitti, Goal, Colorful, ColorHe lodges with relatives in a rather run-down area to the east side of London.  He holds down a job where his intrinsic aptitude and preference for routine and regulations serve him well.

He has created a cocoon of familiarity around himself and, within its confines, once again feels able to chat to me freely via texts and emails.  Regular readers of this blog may remember our remote viewing experiments, which still continue every weekend and are as wonderful and puzzling as ever.  See here if you’d like to read about it.

As you may have gathered, William has some unusual skills and what he terms ‘knowing’.  I suppose it’s an enhanced version of the intuition and occasional flashes of insight we all get from time to time.  He tells me that people with autistic perception ‘receive and process information differently’.

As I mentioned in my last post, William has told and sent me many of his thoughts through the years.  Whether it was a masterclass in moving objects through space using the mind or a detailed account of how ‘atom strings’ form the universe/s, I’ve always been impressed by his ideas and explanations.

E-book CoverI decided that, for his birthday, I would collect together all these conversations, random thoughts and articles, from childhood to the present, into a single file and  send them to him, so that he had a record of the development of his ideas.

I asked him whether he shows them to anyone apart from me.  He said he didn’t.  That seemed a waste.  So a further thought came to me.  What if I formatted them as an e-book?  He could then – if he chose – publish them and allow others to share his ideas and musings.

It took him six days to come to a decision.  I’ve learned to work with his way of dealing with the world.  I was texted a few times in the week and told ‘I’m still thinking’.  Pressing him for a decision or offering further information or suggestions would have slowed things still further and caused him additional stress.  He needed that time to work through all the repercussions of having his words OUT THERE.   Finally, late in the evening of the sixth day, the message came: ‘Publish it.’

So I have.

The Words of William are now available – for the cost of a cup of coffee – on Amazon Kindle.  The text is short – some 5500 words, and priced accordingly.

This shy but delightful young man spent many years struggling to find a voice for his thoughts.  I’d love him to discover that there are those who share his passion for all things metaphysical, multidimensional and magnificent in this cosmos of ours, so if your interests tend that way, please do consider taking a look and maybe downloading a copy or sharing the link with others who might enjoy it.

Amazon UK link

Amazon US link

Also available on Amazon worldwide.

Thank you ❤

 

Thinner than blood?

Blood, they say, is thicker than water.  Maybe so.  Sometimes, though, the thinner, more watery relationships can show a surprising strength and tenacity.  Ours has.

Wondering what might have happened if… is a fairly pointless occupation, but I do sometimes find myself considering how my life and William’s would have been, had he not, at the tender age of six, joined the class I was teaching and had his mother not, almost immediately after that, developed breast cancer and slowly and sadly passed over just a few years later.

Regardless of what might have been, those things all happened.  I believe that’s the way all three of us – at soul level – planned it.

I was destined to devote many years of my working life to helping children with speech and language difficulties and autistic spectrum perception communicate with the rest of us, and many more years helping this one boy in particular.

Scrutinizing facial expressions

William was a child with a formidable intellect, an enhanced sensitivity which made ‘normal’ sounds, tastes or smells virtually unbearable, a gift for strategy bordering on brilliance (he was the school chess champion at 7, thrashing talented 11-year-old opponents – and me! – with consummate ease), marked telepathic skills, a smile that would melt the hardest heart and hardly any comprehensible spoken language.  While he would spend endless hours contemplating life, the universe and everything, watching Star Trek and devising codes and cyphers, he was totally baffled by everyday life and found other children particularly puzzling.  He couldn’t read facial expressions or tones of voice.  He could follow only the simplest of verbal instructions and idioms or sarcasm threw him into a meltdown.

I was fascinated – totally hooked – by this intriguing little kid, long before the tragedies in his life threw us together.

I did my best.  I befriended and supported his mum, did what I could to help the family – taking the children out to give the parents some time together or sitting with the mum so that Dad and the boys could have some afternoons doing normal family stuff together.  My head teacher came and read stories to the class once a week, so that I could give William some individual time to draw pictures, talk through his fears, his nightmares, his frustrations and fury.  A strong bond started to form between us.  Inasmuch as he could trust anyone in those days when his world was falling apart, he trusted me.

Later I’d visit his mum at the hospice.  We talked through what was to come and she begged me to stay in touch with him and keep caring and helping him after she’d gone and after he’d left my class.  I promised.

Teen, Teenager, Boy, Teens, MaleCaring was never a problem.  Helping often was.  There were times in the years that followed when we got along amazingly well together.  We shared many interests – chess, train journeys, a fascination with cosmology, time travel, past lives and the like.  There were times when he retreated totally and refused to speak to me.  There were times when he wanted to talk on the phone for hours every night.  There were dodgy mates and dangerous situations.  Adolescence is something of a tightrope for even the most well-adjusted boy.  Add in difficulties reading social situations and hidden motives, family rifts (he didn’t get along well with his new step-mother), childhood trauma and residual speech difficulties and you have a drug-pusher’s dream client, a bully’s perfect victim and someone guaranteed to swell the coffers of the local off-licence.

Falkensteiner Cave, Cave, Caves PortalI carried on doing my best.  I made it plain that I’d be there, whatever happened, and somehow – even when I’d more or less given up all hope – he’d eventually drift back into my life, start to share his amazing and original ideas with me again, and I would keep them safe.  There would be strange predictions about the future, diagrams of the cosmos, theories about anything from life after death to interdimensional portals.  I kept them in old journals, on scraps of paper and in all manner of files on my hard drive.  It felt important.

What happened to William, and all those words, will follow.

To be continued.