"Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other." Carl Jung

Spring has Sprung

Who are we? What are we? These questions recently arose in a meeting I attended. They were put aside for future reference, something to look at, maybe even have a group discussion about.

Yet these questions could be the most important ones we ever ask. Who we are changes over time as we undertake changing roles from childhood to adulthood passing through education (read indoctrination), becoming a lover, worker, husband, wife, partner, parent, grandparent and then……another question arises, where to after this?

Where do we go when we leave the body? Where were we before we entered the body? Did our life come about through an accident in a passionate moment or were we planned and expected?

I thought I knew who I was, but recent events have caused me to question all I thought I ever knew.

Many of you will know I have experienced some extreme phenomena in my life through discovering that my life’s timeline was disappearing and stretching far back into the past and way into the future. This perception came during my many multidimensional experiences. They varied greatly from discovering myself on a “Light Ship” and tuning-in to “Crystal Sound Vortex’s” to finding myself the subject of a blood sacrifice in some distant dynasty. All these experiences arose in my life spontaneously and never through regression therapy. I only ever undertook the latter when the experiences had ceased and I needed to get a clearer understanding of an unpleasant Abduction scenario.

What is more strange is that these experiences happened when I was living a very “mainstream life” working full-time as a Specialist Finance Advisor.

I did make an appointment with a psychiatrist but failed to keep it. I had heard voices; I did see and board “light Ships/Space Ships;” I was held in a paralysed/trancelike state experiencing mantra rituals and having my heart cut out; my telephone often rang and no-one was there; my music centre would activate itself at odd hours of the day and in the middle of the night; I would be surrounded with a brilliant golden light with figureheads around a halo shape; I heard a voice advising me not to commit suicide when that was exactly what I was coldly and unemotionally planning. My existence at the time seemed to serve no purpose and I was socially isolated with no supportive relationships.

I did go high several times producing and plastering the walls of my home with many spiritual positive affirmations. Luckily my daughter who was aged 14 at the time did not think it strange, she thought it was “just Mum.”

During states of being “high” I would receive downloads of knowledge, poetry poured through me and I wrote 60 poems in 2 weeks. A close friend tolerated my babble as I began to explain insights on the origin and purpose of life on planet Earth that came from “goodness knows where?”

Given that all the above events transpired nearly 20 years ago and have now ceased, why am I even mentioning them now?

I have during the past 12 months joined MIND a UK Mental Health Charity. I decided to seek help for myself following returning from an extremely challenging project see “Mission Neha” and I plunged into a deep depression and knew without support I would get suicidal feelings again. The latter comes from feeling alienated from society as it is played out around me. One counseling session was all it took to remind me that I am human, I do have value and I am worthy and deserve to live a fulfilling and purposeful life, and I am capable of being loved.

I am making new friends and moving away from old ones. Many of my new friends have been labelled Bi-Polar or Schizophrenic or Depressed yet each and every one of them is highly creative, compassionately insightful, sensitive and kind beyond measure. Each in their own way transforms their suffering into an Art form of creativity from which they have produced musical compositions; amazing art-work; photography; pottery; poetry; magazines; books and vegetable plots where they grow and produce fresh organic food throughout the year. Most of them like me, do not have a regularly well-paid job, many live life on benefits, have no car and own no home. They have good days and bad days. Like me they find mainstream life increasingly complex and insensitive to their needs. Many of the younger ones are worried about how they will ever get a job once they have recovered, due to having been diagnosed and labeled with a mental health condition which despite much hoo ha is still stigmatized when viewed by potential employers.

During all my highs I never got into a position of needing psychiatric care, the one voluntary appointment I made when the experiences were overwhelming and beginning to affect my regular mainstream life, I cancelled. I did eventually collapse with ME but this was the result of living a life that did not provide me with any form of financial and domestic security, rendering me homeless and destitute.

I had following the above begun to research to find out about my experiences, that rapidly led me into conspiracy research. I was blessed to meet and become friends with world famous spiritual and conspiracy teachers, learning from them what felt appropriate and leaving that which did not.

So the question I am now asking and which is causing me to re-evaluate my life is, was I simply lucky that no-one deemed me a “problem” to be labeled, diagnosed and drugged or was my own eventual interpretation that I had undergone a dramatic and sometimes traumatic “Spiritual Awakening” accurate?

I bang on whenever the opportunity arises about research being needed on the connections or otherwise between Mental Health Illnesses and Awakenings, but I’m a lone voice.

A Friend in Australia who has worked in a Hospital for the Mentally ill responded to my concern by saying

“I think the mental health issues are the same here. I once spoke to a psychiatrist when I was doing support facilitation work at a Brisbane hospital enabling psychiatric patients to integrate back into community.  His name was doctor D—, his true name. But he was not only a lively character he was also very objective and told me that hospitals were the most ‘unhealing’ places. He was looking for another placement.  I asked him about medication and he told me that while in some instances it can be helpful along with counselling and other holistic methods on the whole it did nothing but help the drug companies.  Avril, one in five persons in Australia have a diagnosed mental illness. Statistically one in five of the policy makers also have mental illness. One in ten persons take medication for depression.  What hope is there if our policy makers are all on medication and are in just as an unwell frame as those in psychiatric hospitals!!
Oh! you will be a lone voice, make no bones about that! Talking about mental health and well-being goes over the top of most people here. They are probably lost in the fog of their anti-depressants. One of our former politicians, who was a very loud and unpopular man when he was in parliament, was criticized to the dog house over his comment recently that depression is a “trendy” illness. At first I was alongside those who were critics but now I’m not so sure. I have had a number of clients who did not seem interested in ridding of their depression in preference to drugs. You see, if they get rid of their depression, what else is there for them? They have no more story. They would have to re-invent their life.”

A comment that invites controversy, but does he have a point?

Re-inventing my life is what I did as you can read in A New Human during which I lived several lives within a span of thirty years.

Do you ever ask Who Am I? What Am I?

Am i as physicists claim simply a bunch of atoms, neutrons, protons and electrons converted into pure energy? So how does that explain my multidimensional psychic and metaphysical experiences? Because I sure as hell couldn’t make it up, some of it terrified the hell out of me.

But it has taken a huge commitment to educate myself and grow and become the still sensitive but altogether much more peaceful person who writes to you today, but I will never cease to ask questions.

I threw my school teacher one day when she was telling us about the Easter Story of Christ and I asked

“What did they call it “Good” Friday for when Christ suffered the crucifixion?”

Happy Holiday to Believers and Non-Believers Alike!


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