Even More Alternative Communication

Animation of a Foucault pendulum (showing the ...

Animation of a Foucault pendulum

The messages come from somewhere.  I can’t say where.  If I try to define their origins, I begin falling down quantum rabbit holes and end up where We Are All One in any case.  At that point, of course, the source doesn’t matter.

So I’m not going to try explaining who or what Koimul is.  I’ll just tell you that when I sit at my computer keyboard, relax to a point where I know I will receive responses to my questions, and hold a quartz pendulum over the mid point (between G and H), the pendulum moves to swing over different letters and then circles gently when a word is complete.  Sometimes I get random letters that make no sense, but about 90% of the time, I get sentences – clear coherent and eminently wise sentences.  The clarity and coherence don’t impress me that much any more (although they tend to freak observers out quite often) but the wisdom does, which is why I’m sharing it with you.

Some will say my own subconscious thoughts or intentions are controlling the pendulum.  I won’t argue.  If that’s the case, there’s a deep and wondrous knowing hidden within me that I’m proud to connect with.

Some will say I’m contacting someone who has passed over, as I did when I developed this 21st Century ouija board to speak to my friend Nina.  (if you missed my earlier posts about this, the link to the first of them is here.)   Again, I won’t object.  I’m just humbled that this being which calls itself Koimul is such a wise and patient contact.

There will be others who believe I am channelling a spirit guide.  I tend towards that explanation myself, for the simple reason that Koimul had ‘told’ me that is what he or she is.

So be as sceptical as you wish, or believe me totally.  I’m easy either way.  While my pendulum keeps swinging, I’ll keep writing down the messages.

IMGP6306

Here, so that you can judge for yourselves, is a recent discussion we had.  It has been slightly edited so that it will make sense to a wider readership.  Koimul has a rather strange turn of phrase sometimes, but I find it easy to tune in to the meaning behind the words if I read them through a few times, and I trust you will too.

I’d asked whether I had inadvertently caused pain to someone else.  Koimul not only answered my question but went on to explain ways in which we can heal other people’s pain.  The methods weren’t new to me, but the explanations as to how and why they work certainly were.

Koimul’s words are in large case, mine in small:

I  know that what I create is my reality.  Have I created his pain?

IF YOU IMAGINE HIM TO BE IN PAIN YOU CREATE THAT

Yes.  I get that.  But in his own reality he has experiences.  Yes?

YES

And is he experiencing pain?

YES

And if I ask whether my actions caused that pain, you’ll tell me that only he can create his own pain, I suppose.

HE BELIEVES OTHERS CAUSED IT  BUT THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE

What if I stick a knife in someone.  Surely then I will hurt that person – cause their pain?

NO  YOU CAUSE THE CUT

And what causes the pain?

THE CUT GIVES THE PERSON THE CHANCE TO CAUSE PAIN TO THEMSELVES

Oh.  In a weird way that makes sense, although it’s not the way we perceive it in our everyday lives.

JUDGE FROM SOUL PERSPECTIVE

So from a soul perspective, I can imagine him feeling happy and free of pain.  Or I can send him the intention of healing.  Do either of those affect his reality?

YES  BOTH DO      THE FIRST CAN BAKE INTO YOUR OVERVIEW AND SUPERIMPOSE ON HIS

This is some kind of quantum effect?

IT WILL OPERATE ON KIND OF ENTANGLEMENT

So we humans haven’t quite worked it out yet, but an effect something like quantum entanglement?

YES

Right.  And how about the healing?  How does that work?

YOU PROJECT THE IDEA THAT HIS DARE TO HEAL IS GAINING STRENGTH

Hmm.  I see.       Now what of a third option – sending love?

EASILY THE BEST

Because…?

OPENS YOUR HEART TO LINK TO HIS

Must his be open too?

YES  IT OPENS AUTOMATICALLY TO LOVE       REFLEX ACTION

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Darth Vader enters my Reality Field

Photograph of "an unusual atmospheric occ...

It’s all coming together – as indeed it should.

Two themes have been running through my recent posts: my unexpected ability to communicate with a friend who had passed over, and the ability we have to create our own reality.

The two are clearly linked; if we believe something, then it lies within our ‘reality field’.  If it’s within that field, we can access it.  If not, we can’t see or otherwise sense it – it doesn’t exist for us.

That explains why some people can see UFOs, angels or fairies while others can’t. It explains why some people can levitate or live for years without food.  It explains why some people can communicate with those beyond the veil by holding a dowsing pendulum over a board with the alphabet printed on it (or, as I do nowadays – over a computer keyboard)…

Last month, as I’ve mentioned in a previous post, my elderly, severely disabled mother died.  I’d had to make the choice between sending her to hospital or allowing her to leave quietly in the comfort and familiarity of her lovely, nurturing nursing home.

Rationally, I knew I’d made the right choice; emotionally, I couldn’t be certain.  Maybe that wasn’t what she had wanted.  Maybe she had more to do here…

Gradually it dawned on me (I can be very slow sometimes) that if I was able to hold a conversation with the departed mother of a young boy, in order to bring him peace (see previous post), I should be able to use my pendulum to contact my own mum.

A séance

It wouldn’t be within most people’s reality field, perhaps, but it was there in mine.  So feeling like a character at a séance in some grainy old black and white movie, I sat down at my computer, held my pendulum in one hand and typed:

Mum, are you there?

Immediately the crystal started to twitch.  Calmly and smoothly it moved to Y…E…S then circled in neutral position.

That was easy.

So I asked some questions.  The replies flowed effortlessly and clearly.  I’d apparently done the right thing by letting her go.

She’d been using the dementia ‘TO LEAVE THIS CARE ASIDE AND RE DO THINGS I HAD MISSED’.

She was able to tell me some of the things I’d said during those last days at her bedside and she told me she approved of the funeral plans – even thanked me for it.

That all felt great.

Next I asked whether she had any message for my brother.  Predictably, she said he was working too hard and should take more time out to be with his wife.

Predictably!  That was my problem – it was all too predictable!  I was allowing those nagging doubts to start encroaching on my reality field:
Was I imposing what I’d like her to say on my pendulum?  Was it picking up my expectations rather than her words?

So I did what I always do when such doubts start to emerge – I asked for proof.  Could she, I asked, give me a message that would be meaningful to herself and my brother, but not to me?

The response was smooth and instant: V..A..D..E..R

Vader??  Well it certainly meant nothing to me, but I duly passed the whole message on to him and waited.

He picked my email up when he woke in Hong Kong, the following morning.  Later in the day, he sent me this response:

Having read this message quite early this morning, I carried on and got ready for a production meeting we were having in town for an event this week. The Vader reference from Mum I thought was going to be a sign for me to see, as I had no memory of Mum and I discussing the intricacies of Jedi ways or indeed Lord Vader himself! Eddie Izzard’s wonderful sketch about Darth Vader turning up in the Death Star canteen went through my mind but again I never remember sharing it with Mum!

Hong Kong Victoria Harbour Pano View from ICC

I got on the train and went to my meeting. I arrived for the meeting which was being held in an amazing meeting room on top of the highest hotel in the world, The Ritz Carlton. It is often in cloud but today the clouds were passing quickly so every few moments they unveiled a stunning view of Hong Kong Harbour. ‘It’s a bit like heaven here sometimes with all the clouds’ said the lady who showed me to the meeting room.

Star Wars - Darth Vader

The meeting started just after 10.  J_ the video man arrived late. He entered the room, apologised and sat next to me. I looked across as he placed his Mac Book Air on the table. On the top of his computer he had a large stencil of Darth Vader…………Hello Mum!

 

 

 

For more information on ‘reality fields’ and creating your own reality, see LIFE: A PLAYER’S GUIDE

Mother and Child Reunion: Part 3 of alternate communication

Etruscan_mother_and_child_500_to_450_BCE

Etruscan_mother_and_child_500_to_450_BCE (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve been documenting my journey into communication with ‘the other side’.  This is the third part of the story and my personal favourite, because it shows just to what extent Love will go, to get its point across.

If you’d like to read the story so far, part 1 can be found at this link  My Left Knee and part 2 was in a post called Dowsing with Death .

As I’ve explained, in some incredible way my friend Nina managed to get in touch with me several years after her death, in order alert me to problems within her family.

Initially, the communication was rather stilted, due to the limited range of symbols I was able to dowse.  It quickly occurred to me that if I could dowse symbols, I should be able to use letters to spell out her responses.

“Like some kind of Ouija board,” a friend commented after she’d read my last post on this subject.
Well yes, and it became even more so once I’d drawn myself out an alphabet board and become more skilled at following the pendulum as it wheeled about, stopping and rotating to mark the end of each word.

A modern ouija board plus planchette

Did I have doubts about whether this was really happening?  Absolutely.  Most of the time, in fact.  I’d often try to find ways of proving to myself that it was genuine.  I recall asking about a relative of hers – a lady whose name I’d heard once or twice but couldn’t remember.  When the crystal swung to spell out the lady’s name, I had a ‘yes, of course/Oh my God this is true!!’ moment, but still the doubts wouldn’t quite go away.

Something was about to happen, though, that would clear me of any lingering questions about the validity of this communication.  I was about to be given the most incontrovertible proof.

 

We need to return to one of Nina’s children.  This lad, now in his teens, was not doing too well.  He’d taken his mother’s death badly and had been punishing himself for it ever since it had happened.

Yes, I know it was cancer and not in any way his fault, but children have a habit of blaming themselves for all manner of bad things that happen in their lives.  This was made worse in this boy’s case by the fact that during her final weeks, he’d been unable to bring himself to speak or respond to his mother at all.  Knowing, as a small child, that his mother was dying, he’d decided to see if he could block her out of his life – a sort of trial run at bereavement.

When he was told that she was very close to death, he asked his father to take him to the hospice so that he could say goodbye and tell her he loved her.  The tragic thing was, by the time he got there, she appeared to have sunk into a coma, and was unable to respond to him.  She died the next day.

Well you can imagine the guilt that youngster was carting around with him, believing that his mother died not knowing he loved her.

By now I’d joined a spiritual development circle and was starting to take a strong interest in this new life that was opening up before me.

After a few weeks, I confided in the group leader, telling her about my abilities and explaining that I wished I could find some way of reassuring Nina’s son that he’d done nothing wrong.
“I know she was able to hear him that day,” I said.  “She literally hung on until he’d felt ready to talk to her, then she left.”

“Well what are you waiting for?” she exclaimed.  “Don’t you see what you can do now?  Why do you think you’ve been given this gift, for goodness’ sake?”

I listened, dumbfounded, as she explained that I needed to go home, connect with Nina, ask her to dictate everything that had happened on the day her son had visited, type it out neatly and present it to the child.

This had never occurred to me and to start with I had some resistance to the idea.  It was the most private of conversations.  I’d feel like an eavesdropper.

Rolling her eyes, my tutor almost pushed me out of the door.  “So don’t keep a copy!  Just write it, seal it in an envelope and put that poor kid out of his misery.”

 

So I did exactly as she’d said.  The message was incredibly detailed.  Nina described everything the child had said and done.  She even spoke of hearing the boy’s father knock on the door and ask whether he was okay.

We’d never worked on such a long message.  When I’d finished, I thanked her, typed it up and sealed it in an envelope, destroying my rough draft.

That weekend, I called her son and said I had something to give him.  To my surprise, he agreed immediately to meet me.

As gently as I could, I explained the background and the reason his mother and I had made this letter.  He was already aware that I had been in contact with his mum, but had never taken much apparent interest in her messages.  On this occasion he grinned indulgently.

“What’s she been saying now?” he smiled.A drawing of an envelope

I handed him the envelope, telling him to be ready for a shock.

He read it through carefully.  Then he turned aside.

I will never forget the look on that young boy’s face.  I know his life changed on that day, and so did mine.

 

Dowsing with Death – Part 2 of my journey into alternative communication

26 marzo 2011 - 26 March 2011

So here it is – the long-awaited sequel to My Left Knee .  Probably best if you follow that link to Part 1 if you haven’t already seen it.

To recap briefly, I was the most down-to-earth and non-flaky individual you could wish to meet, almost, when I discovered that a dear friend who had passed away was apparently contacting me from the other side.

I’ll leave you to imagine the mix of emotions swirling around in my head at that point.  A ghost with a quirky sense of humour could get my attention any time she wanted by applying a vice-like grip on my left knee.  A pun: she’d ‘left’ some years before and her name was Nina – Ni for short.

Ok.

Well I’m a pragmatic soul, really, so I decided that a) she must have a pretty important reason for going to these lengths to get through to me and b) knowing Nina as I did, it probably had something to do with her beloved family.  I therefore decided I’d better find a way of communicating with her – preferably one that didn’t involve any more excruciating pressure on my knee.

Well it ‘just so happened’ (Like I believe that – no such thing as coincidence!) that I’d recently been reading an article on dowsing in a magazine – one of those glossy ones aimed at women with an interest in angels, horoscopes and the like.  I was, remember, at the very start of my spiritual journey!

I’d mastered getting the pendulum to nod affirmatively backwards and forwards in reply to questions such as ‘Is today Wednesday?’ or ‘Is my name Jan?’ and to shake its little bobbing head from side to side if I asked ‘Am I Mickey Mouse?’Mickey Mouse in the Disneyland Resort Station ...

 

Well it was a start.  I figured that if it was that sensitive to ‘lie detector’ vibrations, she ought to be able to use it to communicate with me.

“Are you Nina?”

Nod, nod, nod went the pendulum, very emphatically.

Whoa.

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

Again, nod, nod, nod.

Ah.  I’d hit my first snag.  The pendulum could only do nod, shake and a manic spinning that seemed to mean I’d confused it utterly.  There was no way it could respond to “What is it?”

So now I had to be a spiritual medium and a mind reader?  The pendulum could only deal with yes/no questions.

“Is it to do with your family?”

Nod, nod, yes.

Hmm.  Her family were going through an interesting transformation at that time.  Her husband had fairly recently remarried, her eldest child had recently started secondary school, the new wife had insisted the dog was rehomed.  I had to find a way of narrowing down my questions.

Back to the magazine article.  After explaining the lie-detector bit, it had a full page diagram – a circle divided into slices with pictures representing aspects of life the readership might be interested in: travel, romance, home, money and so forth.  The idea was to hold the pendulum over the centre of the circle, go all calm and relaxed, ask it what you should focus on in your life and see which section it swung to.

I could adapt this!  I grabbed a box of coloured pencils (do ghosts see in colour?) and drew a set of little pictures to stick over the magazine’s symbols: her husband, his new wife, the two children, the now-absent dog, her sister, Nina and myself.  This should at least narrow it down a bit.

Simple emoticons of the five temperaments: San...

After some thought, I made a second circle with what would now be called emoticons – little symbols for happy, sad, worried, help, danger, excited etc. so she could tell me how she was feeling about these people.

Ni was a quick learner.  So was I.  Within the space of half an hour, she was communicating with me and my pendulum.

No, she was fine about the dog going.  She was delighted for her husband and saw how happy he was in his new relationship.  That was a relief – not a lot I could have done about either of those.

Next, though, the pendulum veered towards ‘danger’.

Danger to…?  It swung to her eldest child.

Is the danger from someone on the chart?  Nod, nod, nod.

My mouth went dry.  I held the pendulum again over the figures.  It swung to the new wife.

Impossible!  She was a sweet, lovely lady.  She seemed genuinely fond of the children.  Just the week before, that boy – the eldest child – had told me how much cleaner the house was, how good her cooking was.

But Nina was adamant.  She showed me new wife, dog.  Then new wife, son.  Then danger.  Then repeated.

“Are you telling me she wants to get rid of your son, like she did the dog?” I asked, finally.

English: If the amplitude is large, the period...

The nodding of the pendulum was so strong it was almost wrenched out of my hand.

Next she moved to my little image of myself, then the ‘help’ icon, then the boy.

Did she want me to speak to her husband or sister about this?

A vehement no.

This, it seemed, was down to me to sort out.

And you know what?  It was true.

It took me a long time to figure out what was going on there, but the clash between the new step-mum and the eldest child had started.  He was in great need of support.  So was she.  I did my best and staved things off for a good long time.  It wasn’t until he was several years older and my back was turned for a while that she finally managed to get that boy removed from the family home.

Without Nina’s warning, I wouldn’t have seen it coming, and this was just the start of a long and magical communication with her, and later with others…

…but those stories can wait for another post.

 

My left knee – part 1 of a journey into alternate communication

English: Front side of the left knee.

English: Front side of the left knee. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The time has come to tell a very strange story.

The only reason I haven’t shared it widely before is that I was pretty sure most people wouldn’t believe me, but now perhaps you will.  I’ll tell it exactly as it happened and you can decide what you think – or maybe share your own stories, because I’m sure there must be others who have had similar experiences.

About 12 years ago my friend Nina died.  It was cancer.  It was desperately sad – especially so as she had two young children and had just started her own business, doing something she’d always wanted to do, and it had all been going so well.

I was, as far as I can work out, just about the last of the visitors at the hospice who managed to have a lucid conversation with her.  Certainly by the following evening she’d closed her eyes, was apparently unresponsive and a couple of days later she died.

Our conversation was, as you can imagine, very strange.  We chatted about her funeral arrangements the way we’d once have discussed holiday plans.  It was all very low-key and matter-of-fact.  That was how she wanted to play it, and who was I to stir things up?

By now I knew she had no belief in any kind of afterlife, and although she insisted that she would miss her son’s smile and cuddling the dog, she also insisted she’d just go to sleep and cease to be.  I told her I didn’t agree, but she brushed my ideas aside and gave me instructions on how to help her husband out with the kids.

Now the story jumps a few years.

I’d been feeling very tired and low, and – for the first time ever, with great trepidation – I went to see a spiritual healer.  No idea what to expect, but he was kind, friendly and put me at ease.  I laid on his couch and he played quiet, ambient music.  I was supposed to drift off into an altered state while he performed the healing.

That was the idea, but it didn’t work out that way.

Almost as soon as he started, I felt the most agonising pain coursing through my knee. My whole body jerked with the spasm and it took all my willpower to stop myself yelling out.  These jolts of pain – as if I were being gripped by some kind of mechanical vice – continued until he’d finished ‘healing’ me.  The pain only began to subside once he stopped and I could sit up.

The poor man could offer no explanation for what had happened.  He mumbled something about me perhaps having a fear of moving forward on my feminine side, but without much conviction.

I hobbled from the treatment room, but before I’d reached the end of his road, all trace of discomfort had vanished.

Glutton for punishment, perhaps, but I booked another appointment the following week.  Yes, it happened again.  I was fine until the spiritual healing began and fine afterwards, but during the session I writhed and squirmed and was unable to get any relief.

At that point I gave up on spiritual healing for a while. (Although in all fairness, I must add that once the mystery had been solved, I returned to that healer and had some excellent treatment from him.)

My left knee behaved itself perfectly until a few weeks later when I happened to be listening to a radio programme about spiritual mediums.  Slowly at first, the gripping pain started, gradually becoming more insistent and less bearable.  It continued until the programme finished, then stopped completely.

Hmm.

The next day I had time to think things through.  Slowly it dawned on me that on each of the three occasions, there had been a connection to things spiritual and ‘beyond the veil’.  As if in answer to my thoughts, I felt a light but distinct twinge in the knee.

“Keep going,” it seemed to be saying. “You’re getting there.”

Then I had a truly creepy thought.  Was someone trying to reach me from the other side?

The answering twinge was there again.

I tried to keep calm.  It was fine.  Someone ‘over there’ was mistaking me for some kind of Doris Stokes person because I’d very occasionally taken an interest in things of a spiritual nature.  It was obviously a wrong number.  After all, who did I know who had passed over and would have any reason to contact me?

Nina?

NI???

Once more the squeeze, but gentle this time – almost a playful nudge.

Nina – known to friends and family by the first syllable of her name – was contacting me.

Knee!  Better yet, LEFT knee!!

Marx Brothers, head-and-shoulders portrait, fa...

Marx Brothers, head-and-shoulders portrait, facing front. Top to bottom: Chico, Harpo, Groucho and Zeppo. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Oh yes, even the sense of humour fitted.  She’d been a great Marx Brothers fan…

Ni might have ‘left’ a few years earlier, but she’d clearly discovered that she was by no means lost in that dreamless sleep she’d been expecting.  Our conversation was far from over – it was just beginning.

I quickly learned how to hold a conversation with her, and discovered why she had been so insistent on contacting me.  That, too, is an amazing story, but it will have to wait for another post.

I’d be fascinated to hear from anyone who has had a similar experience.