The Vitruvian Lines – Introduction

Da Vinci Vitruve Luc Viatour.jpg

Vitruvian Man by Leonardo Da Vinci

Here it is, finally.  Thank you, friends, for your patience.

This is my best attempt to answer the questions implied in an article my friend and confidant Will
wrote a while ago.  Some parts of what follows have already appeared in various blog posts I have written, however there is also much new information and it ideally needs to be read as a whole.

Because of its length, I’ll be serialising these ‘lines’ in my blog for many weeks to come. I personally find blog posts over 800 or so words hard to read, as I like to ‘dip into’ them and I’ve noticed I get more ‘hits’ on my shorter articles, so I assume others are like me in that respect.

Why Vitruvian?

Because the main thrust of these lines concerns the relationship between two different populations currently inhabiting our planet – those commonly described as ‘neurotypical’ (or, more chauvinistically, ‘normal’) and those who are often labelled as highly sensitive, disordered or possessing some form of dysfunction which renders them atypical – I wanted to find a neutral way of describing the two groups.  I adhere to my principle of refusing to refer to people on the autistic spectrum as ‘disordered’.  I refer to them as ‘people with autistic perception’ or ‘autists’, sometimes separating out those at the highest cognitive levels as Asperger’s (a term no longer current in medical and psychological circles, but still in common use) or ‘high-functioning autists’.   However Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man provides an interesting way to differentiate between the populations.

As you can see from the drawing, the physical human body will fit either into the square or the circle, but not both.  Of course, those divisions only exist in a geometrical sense, as does, for example, the equator.  For me, though, they will provide a useful analogy for the groups I want to discuss.  I will therefore describe the ‘neurotypical’ population as Circle Fillers and the ‘neuro-atypical’ group as Square Fillers.   Why that way round?  There is a reason, hidden in the geometry, which I’ll come to in a future section, but for now, perhaps the metaphor of square pegs having difficulty fitting into round holes will suffice to allow you to differentiate between them.

The Inspiration

“Autistic people are capable of communicating and socialising. They have a naturally different method of accomplishing this. 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 them properly. I suspect at some point this will be achieved and hopefully will allow autism to be harnessed to its full potential and remedy the blindness of so many.”

William Bales 2016

There is nothing I enjoy more than a good puzzle – especially one that could benefit everyone if it were solved.  The comments Will made there ticked all those boxes and more for me and I have been working away at uncovering the answer ever since he wrote them.  Some of that work has been conscious, some has been more-or-less subliminal; I’ve simply set my ‘self’ the task and waited to see what it comes up with and what synchronicities appear as a result.

Obviously, because I set the framework for solving the puzzle up in that way, the various pieces of information and insight have appeared in non-linear fashion, so are quite challenging to collate as continuous text.  I’ve set out the different strands under sub-headings, then attempted to draw them together at the end.

In my next post, I will begin to explain The Vitruvian Lines in terms of the structure of society.

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A Partridge in a Pear Tree

Light, Pear, Lamp, Light Bulb, EnergyI know, I’ve been very quiet again lately.

It’s not that I haven’t been writing.  I have – and considerably more than usual.  It just isn’t ready to put here yet.  One day soon, though, I’ll be inundating this blog with the thoughts and ideas that have just about taken over my waking life in the past few weeks.  Maybe you should enjoy the peace while you have it…

Many years ago, a very talented psychic told me I would collect up all manner of information from all kinds of places, and one day I would put it all together in a new way, and this would be original and of interest to others.  At the time I laughed and told her I could scarcely remember where I’d put my keys, let alone recall great tracts of reading and learning.

She was right, though.  Somewhere in my mind (a place I now understand far better) they were all lurking.  I explained the process by which all these semi-forgotten snippets formed themselves into a coherent whole in my previous post: The Answer.  The question these words were answering can be found printed in green at the end of another fairly recent post: A Trail of Breadcrumbs.
OK, it isn’t exactly a question, but it implies one, and it’s one I’d been wondering about and trying to answer for many years before William summed it up so clearly.

Code, Programming, Head, ComputerSo the information slotted itself together very easily.  The hard part has been trying to find ways of recording it in something approaching coherent text.  The different parts jump and fizz and turn cartwheels in my mind, while I’ve been trying to sequence them, so that one word follows the next and it makes sense to someone other than me.

I think I’ve done it, just about.  There are around eleven thousand words there and they seem to make sense.  So the next step is to pass them on to Will.  It was he, after all, who asked the question, and he will be my fiercest critic and most diligent proof reader.  There’s a useful synchronicity there, too; what do you give the man who claims to want nothing for Christmas (but does really, of course)?

I’ve packaged the information up into sections, which will be emailed to him throughout the Christmas holiday season, with ‘The First Day of Christmas’, ‘The Second Day of Christmas’ etc. in the subject line.  Hopefully, he’ll critique it and add more to it than he already has … and then I’ll be ready to share it with you.

Needless to say, in order to work out how people with autistic perception receive and process information led me to question how the rest of us do so.  How else could I understand the differences?  My journalling journey took me to places I never expected to visit, but I’m so very glad I did.  I found nuggets of truth lurking in the most incongruous places, so seeing a partridge roosting in a pear tree would no longer strike me as strange at all.

Wishing you all the happiest of festive seasons, in whatever way you celebrate this turning of the year, and I look forward to joining you again in 2018.

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.

 

 

Is Reality Real?

Fantasy, Dream, Reality, Virtual, Nature, ExistenceFor years I’ve been receiving a ‘weekly powerful question’ from some site I once subscribed to.  The title of this post was this week’s offering.  Yep, that’s a powerful question all right.

I presume what it’s really asking is something like, ‘Is objective reality real?’  to which I’d have to reply, ‘No, I don’t believe it is.’

In that book I wrote, back in 2012, (see About page for details) I described myself as an anti-empiricist.  I still stand by that.  I think rationalism and empirical thought has taken humanity down a narrow  – and probably blind – alley.  It’s a bit like time; it only works within certain narrow parameters.  Within those, it’s extremely useful, but beyond them, relatively useless.

People in lab coats will measure and test to their hearts’ content, but even they know that if they send their measuring instruments into space and accelerate the craft, their rulers will change length and their clocks won’t work at the same speed as the ones left on Earth.

Reality, it seems to me, is wonderfully, gloriously and infinitely bendy.  We have infinite probability drives (not to be confused with Douglas Adams’ Infinite IMprobability Drive) built into our psyche.  Here’s the improbable one, for the benefit of fellow Adams fans:

What I mean is that if we can imagine it, it exists.  We bring ‘reality’ into being through the process of that very act of imagination.

As an example, I recently read this article on traditional Australian healers – ngangkari.  These are ‘real’ people.  They exist and have names.  The article even shows photos of them.  They travel as spirit by night, helping and caring for their community.  By day, they heal anyone who comes to them.  One describes how he was taught by his elders, during his ngangkari training, to remove physical objects as he draws out the sickness – sticks, stones and so forth – from his patients’ bodies, in order to demonstrate to them that healing has actually taken place. (Obviously his community has its sceptics, too).  Another speaks of simply laying hands on the patient.  They speak of tools – mapanpa – which are sent to them and which (some say) reside in their bodies.  Some are able to move these through their bodies and send them out as healing to patients through ‘openings’ in their hands or foreheads; others report that they fall to the ground with small explosions – items resembling little black stones, pieces of shaped bone and whatnot – for the ngangkari to gather and use.

My point is that in different communities within the indigenous Australian population, the ways in which a ngangkari functions will vary, depending on the customs, training and beliefs of that particular social group.  All are equally ‘real’.

Cure, Drug, Cold, Dose, The Disease, PharmacyWellness, Massage, ReikiIf your own reality includes Reiki, spiritual healing and similar modalities, none of the above will sound too strange to you.  If, in your experience, though, healing involves visiting the GP, taking prescription drugs and occasional visits to the Minor Injuries Unit, it may be harder to view such things as ‘real’.

I think the difficulty lies in consciousness.  Consciousness, mainstream science will argue, is “a sensation created by electro-chemical activity in the ‘wiring’ of the brain”.  (That’s the definition I just found in a book I’m currently reading about how ‘modern man’ emerged.)  To me, that’s like insisting that the Sahara Desert exists within my television set, because I’m able to observe it on my TV screen.

Certainly we can observe consciousness at work within the brain, but lodging it in there is ridiculously limiting.  Consciousness exits beyond and interpenetrates everything we perceive and – far more importantly – everything we can imagine.

So, to answer my ‘weekly powerful question’, I believe consciousness is real and inasmuch as consciousness enables me to envisage ‘reality’, my external reality is real for me while I am inhabiting this – temporary – physical body form.  How much you are able or willing to share that reality, though, depends on how much social conditioning we have in common.  I may see, hear or otherwise experience things that are not ‘dreamt of in your philosophy’ – and vice versa, of course.  I also have an internal reality, of course, which seems to be synonymous with Consciousness.  That, I share with everyone and everything around me at some level, rather like the air I breathe.  Exploring that is where the real adventures begin…

 

Under the Akasha Tree

Acacia, Tree, Field, Mist, Misty, GrassA posthumous and timely reminder from Wayne Dyer has lifted me from my meditations beneath this glorious, overarching tree.

I’ve been here for some time, pondering deeply, wondering widely and dreaming deliciously.  Not a bodhi tree for me, nor even an acacia.  Mine is Ervin Laszlo’s all-enveloping Akasha.  It’s a glorious place to sit and think, but Dr Dyer’s words are ringing in my ears:

Don’t die with your music still inside you.

Not, I hasten to add, that I’m planning on ‘dying’ yet awhile.  Judging by my female ancestors, I probably have at least a further 30 or so years of pondering-in-the-physical stretching before me, let alone the timeless afterlives, interlives and lives beyond that.  Nevertheless, it’s probably time to dust off the blog and share some of the thoughts that have been drifting around the Akasha and into my mind.

Human, Glow, Lightning, Soul, Light, Mind, SpiritImagine a deep, deep dimension underlying everything.  This dimension is way beyond time and space.  It is the base of all that is – All That Is.  Laszlo calls it, appropriately enough, the Akashic realm.  Matter is in-formed from this deep dimension.  The Akasha is de-formed by matter.  Matter returns to and emerges from Akasha.  The information we receive from this realm arrives in the form of quantum waves – nonlocal and instant.  This means that, as well all the ‘normal’ perceptions that reach us through the five senses, we can safely include inspirations, hunches, intuitions and all those transient awarenesses we may glimpse fleetingly.  In short, to quote Ervin Laszlo, “our brain is imbued with the totality of the information that pervades the cosmos”.

It goes without saying that all but a tiny amount of that information is filtered out by our brains, in just the way that we filter out unwanted sounds or visual stimuli around us in a crowded street, the better to focus on what our companion is saying or the route we wish to take.  However, Laszlo says it is possible, through entering an altered state – through meditation, in a near-death experience or at a point between waking and sleeping, for example – to gain access to far greater parts of the ‘Akashic Record’ than is normally the case.

Now, perhaps, you’ll see where my ponderings beneath the akasha tree have been going…

For at least the last twelve years, I’ve spent much of my time exploring the outer reaches of perception – the places many dismiss as fancy or superstition.  Given that we now have an internationally respected scientist, with impeccable credentials, offering a carefully constructed theory in which such phenomena are not only tolerated, but expected, I feel deep gratitude and delight.

Joan Of Arc, Gold, Statue, Arc, JoanAlbert Einstein, Scientist, PhysicalFor millennia, now, either the Christian Church or – latterly – mainstream science have sought to marginalise, suppress or persecute those who were able to access this realm.  The reasons are not difficult to fathom.  Those who have experienced Akasha’s deeper knowledge – and been brave enough to share it – have been burnt as heretics, derided as charlatans or otherwise disposed of (except in the case of a chosen few who, by accessing the ‘right’ ideas at the right time, achieved veneration as saints or scientific geniuses).

Finally, the tide is turning.

I strongly suspect that it is turning faster than even Laszlo suspects.  More on that to follow.

For now, though, if you haven’t yet encountered Ervin Laszlo – systems scientist, integral theorist and classical pianist – I urge you to do so.  He is one of the wisest and most brilliant people I have ever come across.  His ‘music’ is to explain and share what he calls his ‘re-discovery’ of the Akashic realm.  I heartily recommend  The Self-Actualising Cosmos: the Akasha Revolution in Science and Human consciousness.

 

 

The Gift of Dementia

Hand, Old, Age, Skuril, Elderly Woman, GrandmaIf someone had asked me, back in 2008, what gift I was being given by my mother’s encroaching dementia, I’d have been hard-pressed to give them an answer.

As anyone who has been in intimate contact with this condition will know, the hardest time is the early stage – the time when a normally functioning, intelligent human being is experiencing very specific and often debilitating gaps in memory and in the ability to cope on a day-to-day basis because of them.

It was me who grassed Mum up to the doctor.  That was certainly the way she saw it.  By telling her GP of my concerns, I unleashed a battery of humiliating tests and visiting busybodies.  She never forgave me for that.  When her condition became so bad that I had to give up work and move away from my family to become her live-in carer, she threw it in my face at least once a day.

Those were easily the hardest months of my life.  So the gift?  I was given the most incredible insight into the way minds work.  Usually, minds are sophisticated, faster than light and keep their backs, so to speak, well covered.  As Mum’s slowed, though, I was able to watch and observe – to see how a trigger experience could change and shape subsequent behaviour.

Everyday Life, Washing Dishes, Cup, GlassLet us take, for example, the story of the washing up liquid bottle.

While she was still living alone, an occupational therapist came to assess Mum in her house.  Mum found that threatening, insulting, patronising and intrusive.  She realised she was being ‘tested’ but didn’t know why.  At one point, the OT held up Mum’s bottle of washing up liquid, covered the label and asked her what it was used for.  We never knew whether or not Mum had been able to answer her correctly.

Mum retold that story many times afterwards, but in her version, the OT asked this question of the grandchildren.   That was the only way Mum could justify someone asking such a stupid question.  In her version, the grandchildren giggled, rolled their eyes and then answered correctly.  In the event, Mum had had no one to giggle with.  She had been face to face with a person who, in her own home, was checking whether she knew what washing up liquid was and she’d felt violated.

Several months later, when I was living there, she suddenly stopped using washing up liquid when she washed the dishes.  I asked her why she didn’t put some in the water.
“Well,” she said hesitantly, “I don’t know.  I just get a funny feeling about it.  I mean, they keep coming in and turning the bottle around so you can’t see the label.”

I looked and saw that the bottle was on the worktop, but the label was facing the wall.  Seeing the bottle with its label concealed had clearly triggered memories of the therapist’s visit that were sufficiently uncomfortable to make her want to stop using the product.

She could no longer remember the trigger, but the resulting emotion remained and affected her behaviour.

A visiting professional would have viewed Mum’s behaviour as illogical and a symptom of her disease.  Because I could follow the trace of events, though, I was able to recognise that she was attempting to avoid an unpleasant feeling by ignoring the existence of the obscured bottle.

How many of our behaviour patterns, I wonder, stem from a suppressed unpleasant memory?

 

Expanding Consciousness

List of images in Gray's Anatomy: IX. Neurology

“I am everywhere.”

That’s how the film ‘Lucy’ ends.  (Thanks to Atxero for pointing me in its direction.)  It’s a Matrixy kind of a thing – Scarlett Johansson gratuitously destroying anyone who gets in her way, turning ‘life’ to a video game scenario as she develops new and unimaginable neural connections and expands her consciousness until all of her brain is being used, rather than the 10% or so most of us have been settling for.

I was woken up to this expanded consciousness idea some years ago – by Will, the guy I’m currently working with on remote viewing .  He was a little kid then.  He made it impossible for me not to notice that he was seeing things I couldn’t see,  sensing things I couldn’t sense and performing psychic tricks and feats that left me scrabbling to catch up and understand.

English: corpus callosum. Images are from Anat...

English: corpus callosum.  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There are babies, children, teenagers and young people – even a few older ones – who came into life this time around with expanded consciousness.  In my book I called them the Version 2.0 players in this game of Life.  They are the ones who haven’t fully forgotten what is actually going on here – who they really are.  They’re struggling – many of them – to get along with the everyday details of life: social interaction, school, shopping, going to work… but that’s because they are holding an awesome amount of Light or Memory or Spirit or whatever you’d like to call it, within their consciousness.

One day, some meddling but oddly broad-minded scientist will take a look inside the heads of some of these people and discover something unexpected – extra DNA strand activation?  Something rather interesting around the pineal gland?  Neural pathways way beyond what the textbooks show?  A distorted and expanded corpus callosum?  I have no idea what, but something will appear.  I strongly suspect all of the above, as well as a transition from carbon based to crystal based life, but I’m no scientist, just an interested observer. They’ll probably label it a syndrome or dysfunction anyhow, because scientists tend to like norms and neat bell curves.

The rest of us – those who maybe didn’t come into Life that way, but have been jump-started by our special young people – are catching up.  They are waking us up to a new way of being and experiencing – and it’s wonderful.

“I know I’m obviously biased,” my daughter told me, rather apologetically, the other day, “but there are times when he seems to shine somehow…”
She was talking about her 3 year old son.  I’m biased too, but she’s right.  He does.  I was with the two of them at the weekend.  He was raking a flowerbed for his seeds in the garden.

“This is a good day, Mummy,” he said, quietly and thoughtfully.
She looked at him and smiled, slightly bemused.  “You say that every day,” she pointed out.
He looked into her eyes then and said, very pointedly, “But it IS good.”

I checked with her later,  He really does say it every day?  “Yes,” she insisted, “and we won’t be doing anything special – just walking along the street or eating lunch or something.  Then he’ll tell me it’s a good day.”

What a beautiful lesson that tiny little kid is giving his mother.  She believes she’s just about coping – managing him and his three month old sister and the home; she’s rushed off her feet and always feeling someone is losing out.  But the child sees past that.  He sees the goodness of every day and gives it back to her.

IMG_20150510_085131The next day it was my turn.  We were walking through an orchard.  I was aware that it was a pretty place – just aware.  My focus was elsewhere.  Then he stopped and turned to me.

“This is a Good Day, Grandma,” he said, with the gentlest emphasis on those words.

Suddenly I was able to feel it the way he was experiencing it – the family clustered around us, the crunching gravel under our feet, the azure sky with scudding grey clouds, the apple blossom and buzzing of the bees, the birdsong everywhere,  the utter beauty of nature in an English springtime – and I felt all the deep joy that had bubbled up inside him spilling into me from his deep brown eyes.

I felt, as I always have with Will or the many other Version 2.0s I’ve known, so honoured to be given a glimpse into his consciousness.

He’s one of the special ones.

Breakdowns and subtle bodies



Русский: ЭзотерикаI'll begin by telling you that this is to be one of my 'alternative communication' posts.  Haven't done one for quite a while, so if you tuned in wanting another feel-good story about LIME Cottage, sorry but this is drawing on a very different aspect of my life.

For those who aren’t familiar with my form of alternative communication, I should point out that it is very, er, alternative.

I’ve come across many people who channel and many who speak to those beyond the veil.  I’ve done both, but what I do now is something else again.  I have telepathic conversations with a young man I’ve known since he was a little boy.  He taught me to send and receive telepathically when he was about 8.  He went on to teach me wonders that astounded me.

Sometimes.

At other times he was withdrawn, grumpy, monosyllabic and would insist that the revelations and connections to higher realms had never happened.  It always confused me.

In his late teens, after some very difficult life experiences, he shut down completely.  He barely left his home or spoke to anyone, he only corresponded with me via text – a word a week was normal (‘How are you doing?’/ ‘Fine’).  He cut himself off from family and had no friends.  He developed compulsions and became paranoid.  He refused to see a doctor or therapist and so on and on.  They were dark days.

And then, quite out of the blue, he began to correspond with me telepathically.  It certainly ‘felt’ like him.  I would sit at my computer, type questions or comments into a word-processing program and then hold my crystal dowsing pendulum over the keyboard, just as I’d done (and demonstrated to him many times) when I used to contact his mother in spirit.  The crystal moved and spelled out words, which I typed.

This was different, though.  For a start, he wasn’t dead.  I’d be receiving one word texts from the physical him in London and expansive, fascinating insights from the telepathic him.  Strangest of all, he (in the body) appeared to have no knowledge of the conversations he was having with me via my computer.

Fairly obviously, I doubted the validity of what was happening and more-or-less convinced myself that I was making the whole thing up.  That was when I contacted Cynthia and Bob in New York.  They, I knew, were the real deal.  Cynthia channelled The Council while Bob made detailed recordings.  Yes, they assured me, it was all happening, and I needed to write it all down – publish a book of our strange and wonderful friendship.

The communications have continued intermittently ever since.  It wasn’t until early this month that I commented that the different aspects of him seemed to be more separate than most people’s.

YES, he responded. OVERLOADED.   A BREAKDOWN IN MY TEENS.

I gasped.  ‘Is that what a breakdown is?  A separation of the subtle bodies?’

His response registered mild surprise that I hadn’t realised that.

Suddenly everything made sense – the way in which the magical, evolved indigo/Version 2.0 boy had vanished and been replaced by a terrified, hyper-alert young man working entirely from the limbic system – the ancient fight-or-flight mechanism at the very centre of the brain.
I recalled his angry replies when I asked how he was feeling: ‘I don’t HAVE feelings!’
He managed tasks that had a direct bearing on his own survival, but nothing else.
His life was encased in rituals and obsessions.
He was functioning without any connection to his soul.

Afbeelding van koendaliniekanalen en centra Ze...

Afbeelding van koendaliniekanalen en centra Zelfgemaakt, geen auteursrechten (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So now, he was telling me, I was receiving telepathic communications from his mental body.  A while back, when he’d been fixated on astral travel, the communications came from his astral/emotional body.  All his subtle bodies were continuing to develop just fine, but independently of each other and, he reassured me, they were gradually reconnecting as he was healing.  I guess that explains why he’s become able, in the last few months, to manage the occasional short phone conversation and to send me a birthday card.

Meanwhile, my discussions with his mental body continue to amaze and expand my own consciousness.  Sometime soon, I’ll share with you the ‘Idiot’s Guide to Subtle Bodies’ he prepared for me.

I feel jubilant that I can finally make sense (well, to myself, at any rate) of what has been happening, and that I’ve regained a connection to the wisdom and wonder that kept me spellbound when he was a boy.

Rewiring my mind

Balancing The Account

Here I am at Phase 2.

That’s great, isn’t it?  All the synchronicities and wonders combined to make my dream possible; the cottage will be mine as soon as the money – or at least the electronic messaging system that passes these days for money – has found its way into the vendor’s bank account.

Wonderful.

So what is Phase 2?  It’s where I select builders, scaffolders, plumbers, electricians, locksmiths, fencers, decorators and so forth… and trust them to rebuild, repair and restore the sad, neglected shell and make it fit for habitation.

Just writing those words makes me quail.

It’s not that I begrudge the money.  I don’t.  Money is energy.  It’s no use to me while it sits in the bank, but when I’m using it to pay craftsmen and they are improving my cottage, we all gain something from that energy exchange.

No, my energy is depleted by the old wiring in my mind; the wiring that tells me of all the things that can go wrong – delays from contractors not turning up on time, shoddy workmanship, nasty and costly surprises lurking beneath roof tiles and plaster.

Well-meaning friends and relatives regale me with stories of botched jobs, rotten timber, un-met deadlines and the like, and at 2 or 3 in the morning those demons hold sway.

Like everyone else, I have to fight hard to defeat the ‘glass half empty’ mindset.  Most of the time I’m gloriously happy in what some would call my fool’s paradise – expecting and creating a life full of wonder and success.  It’s just that when a new and hitherto untested challenge appears, my mind does its best to revert to the old wiring.  It feels safe there in its reptilian ‘realism’.

Electrical Wires Sepia

It takes effort and a huge leap of faith to once again embark on a massive mental rewire.

First I give my mind a big hug.  I tell it how well it’s done to get me to this place.  I praise it for being brave enough to take on all my crazy new ideas and beliefs thus far.  I re-mind it that it has helped me – against ridiculous odds – to become the owner of a grade ll listed cottage, dating from the 1600s.

Next I carefully and lovingly remove all the rusty, crumbly, outdated wiring – the ‘just think what could go wrong’ ideas.  Some are buried deep in my DNA, so it’s quite a job.

Finally I replace them with a new wiring system.  The energy this system runs on is free and limitless.  It links me into a cosmic hub.  It allows me to tap into the potential of pure creation at will.

Free Energy

Free Energy (Photo credit: AlicePopkorn)

A year or two back I wrote a book that contained all the theory of this new way of being.  But theory alone is never enough, so now I’m creating a physical, tangible worked example of it – walking my talk, if you like.  Several people have told me they find my cottage story inspirational.

For that reason, I’ll finish this post with the words I used to finish the book:

You are a perfect holographic part of the creator.  You are conscious energy; so is everything and everyone around you.  You are creating in every millisecond of your existence.  Given that, you might as well create something astounding.  Make your life a masterpiece.  The whole of Creation will be the richer for it. 

 

Available in paperback and Kindle editions

Available in paperback and Kindle editions

LIFE: A PLAYER’S GUIDE by Jan Stone is published by FeedARead and available to order from bookshops or via Amazon.  Do give it a read if you’d like some guidance on creating your own miracles.

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The Curse of the Question Mark

Ideology Icon

Danny, despite his speech difficulties, has an interesting turn of phrase.  He’s just 10, and yesterday we had our first tutoring session of the new school year together.

“So what’s been going on in your life over the summer?” I asked.
“Dood stuff!” he announced, proudly. “I had my birthday, and I dot a digital damera and I’m detting a laptop soon!”

He must have noticed my raised eyebrows. I know his family’s financial situation isn’t great.
“The laptop’s from a jarity,” he explained. “I don’t know what ‘slexia is, but my mum wrote to them and they’re divving me a laptop so I can do my homewort.”
“Well that’s brilliant, Danny,” I enthused.  “Aren’t you a lucky boy!”

Lucky isn’t really the word that springs to mind when you first come across Danny.  The youngest in his year group, he does daily battle with all aspects of academic study at school.  Words appear to fly around the page and refuse to lodge in his memory; numbers resist all attempts to become bonded or otherwise related to one another.  Several speech sounds remain stubbornly inaccessible to him, despite years of therapy, and his tendency to writhe, fiddle, daydream or mumble his way through the interminable school day must have driven many a teacher to distraction.

Despite all this, Danny remains a cheerful child with a gift for optimism and humour.  He’s one of the many special young people who have so much to share with those of us who are willing to embrace different ways of learning and being.

“Do you really not know what dyslexia is, Danny?” I asked, despite my personal aversion to the term.  “Would you like me to explain it to you?”

‘Explain’ is one of his trigger words.  I should have remembered.

“No,” he replied hastily, “I thint I remember now.  It means I darn’t learn properly.”

Well that set off one of my own triggers!  I drew a quick cartoon brain.  I drew two dots and a straight line representing stimulus and response between two points in a neurotypical brain.  Then I drew the response to a stimulus in his brain – all manner of weird and wonderful connections firing off simultaneously and the resulting wavy synaptic line that connected them all in new and exciting ways.

“You learn DIFFERENTLY Dan,” I told him, as I traced the routes on my drawing with my finger, “and if the teacher wants a quick answer, that’s difficult for you.  On the other hand, if she wants an original answer – one that no one else would think of – then yours is the perfect brain for that.”

He looked slightly hopeful but sceptical.

Mario Kart DS Bundle

“What are you like at computer games?” I asked.
“Brilliant!” he grinned. “I’m the best in the family. I tan beat everyone.”

Several minutes of sound-effect laden role play followed as he demonstrated his prowess at Mario with an imaginary DS.

“I’m not surprised,” I told him.  “Your brain is perfect for that.  It can keep track of all the different things going on at once – the number of lives and energy levels, the route you need to take, dangerous enemies and obstacles…  All those bits of your brain that work at once can handle that far better than most ordinary people.”

Danny seemed happy with that, so we turned to some of the work I’d prepared – the gentlest of introductions to algebra, such as

9 + ? = 13   or  15 – ? = 10

Danny stared balefully at the page for a moment, then rose in his seat, peering down at it with great disdain.

“Dwestion Marts!” he announced with gravitas.  “My arch enemy!  I hate you, Dwestion Marts!  You never reveal what you are hiding!  Durse you to hell forever!”

And that’s the way it goes – a typical weekly session with Danny, the boy who can’t perhaps answer the question, but has penetrated to the heart of its intrinsic essence with a clarity the rest of us can only gasp at.

How utterly dull our world would be without the likes of Danny.