Finding out.

I can't remember the first time that I went to the library. I must have been very young. What I do remember was walking through the large oak doors, through the ornately tiled hallway, past the ships bell and into the repository of books awaiting discovery. I can still smell the scent of old books, of polished wooden floors and the calming atmosphere. I would regularly take out several books at a time and read all of them at once, sparing little time in trying to absorb as much information as I possibly could.

Even as a child I was drawn to ghost stories, science fiction and the like. I would eagerly read Pan books of Horror Stories or books by Aiden Chambers, but would intersperse it with Earth Mysteries books or books on sacred sites. I knew there was more to life than what we currently perceive and my experiences during my dream times were evidence for this. I was searching to see if someone else had experienced what I had. Instead I found myself getting scared by the words, spooked by the stories, yet I was still driven to find out the meaning behind my experiences.

My reading increased as I got older too. I developed a keen interest in astrology, tarot, alternative belief systems and so much more. I read about the world and about people about art, science and everything in between. My experiences seemed to change as I aged too. the visitors in the night became less frequent, but my interesting dreams remained.  I searched books on dream interpretation convinced I'd find the answers, instead I was left with an increasing amount of questions.

At school I excelled in most subjects, yet I still felt that I wasn't good enough, that I somehow couldn't do well. I enjoyed drawing and art, sewing and crafting and music. I knew that somehow everything was connected and that was why it was important to read everything I could. I had a pretty much photographic memory and could recall facts I'd read about many books ago.

I recall one incident that happened, where I had a sense of 'knowing' about something.

The school trip was to Kibblestone Scout Camp. I was wrapped up against the elements, with a packed lunch in my bag and exited the coach into the grounds. I had a strange feeling. I had been here before. I have a memory of this place, but I couldn't tell anyone about it. The leader of our party a young woman asked us about the trees, could we identify them. I correctly identified all the trees in order.

"Have you been here before?" she asked.

I hestitated before replying, how could I say what was on my mind?
"No Miss, but I know that through those trees is a Scots Pine"

"You're right, how can you possibly know that?"
"I have no idea" I retreated shyly, why did I know this information?

Another school trip was to see a play at a local High School, it was a performance of The Boyfriend.
As we waited in the entrance hall one of my friends piped up
"Anyone know where the toilets are?"..
Without thinking I simply said "Yeah, they're down there on the left"
"So where are the boys toilets then clever clogs?" one of the boys asked
"Oh they're just past the girls toilets, just before those double doors"
I was right on both counts. I had never been to that High School before, but somehow had a sense of knowing where things were in that building.

So the sense of inner knowing was quite strong. If I tried to focus on it and hone it, then I struggled. It wasn't until my teenage years that I professed my interest in psychic matters to a friend. It was summer and we sat in deckchairs in her garden taking in the suns warm rays.
"Lets play a game, try and guess what I'm thinking" she offered.
I felt unsure, but just said the first thing that came into my head,
"You don't like what Dawn is wearing and you wish she'd go home and leave us alone"
A look of shock crossed her face. I had no idea how I knew what she was thinking, only that the words came into my head and I just said them.

During my teens I explored more subjects, spent more time in libraries, when I could, between the endless demands of studying for exams and further demands of boyfriends. I used astrology as a subject for my O Level English oral exam. I knew some fundamentals and had an intriguing debate with one of the teachers who was examining me. I passed the exam, partially through showing initiative and talking about an unusual subject.

At 15, I came down with what was diagnosed at the time as glandular fever. My best friend at school also caught it. As I descended into the illness and fever overtook me, I fell unconcious. I was alone in my room. Suddenly they appeared, as real as before, the tall thin insect like creature and the other short round one. they took me along the white corridor, I passed the brown wooden cabinet, which was my touch stone and entered into the large room with the large screen and about two to three hundred other people in it. The other people were unaware of me and I couldn't reach out to them. I was overwhelmed and very frightened. I started to scream, but couldn't make a sound, tried to move, but all my limbs felt heavy. I screamed some more. Still no sound. I remembered darkness, then I awoke. I was still screaming, but there was no noise coming from my mouth, I tried to move but it was like moving through treacle. I moved my hands up to my face, they felt like they were huge and swollen like overfilled sausages. I managed to get up. I made a dash to the door. I felt someone was with me in the bedroom. I struggled to open my door, my sausage fingers clumsily grabbing at the handle. I still couldn't make a sound. I fumbled for my parents bedroom door. I was crying, sweating and delerious. My parent woke with a start and gently took me back to bed, tucking me in like they did when I was younger. Soothing me with their words. I settled back into a dreamless sleep.

Those visitors haven't been back since. I did wonder if the nature of their contact had changed. If my dreams had changed due to puberty, or because I had a boyfriend. I started to miss the visitors. Missed the terror that I felt when they were around. Missed the familiarity of them being there. I still didn't know who they were or what they wanted with me. I wanted to know the truth, but was also scared in case it was something I didn't want to hear.

Past Lives continued

Yesterday I discussed the idea of Past Lives and one particular experience that I linked to a relationship I have now. Today I want to explore that further by relating some other experiences that I had a number of years ago. I'm not claiming to be anything special, nor anything better than who I am. Rather I'm exploring the ideas and seeing what comes out.

I'm sitting in a chair in Susan and Tony's house. There's a group of us, all learning together about various spiritual subjects. Tonight's subject is pathworking. Basically meditating to a given script. Being guided through the unconcious mind and visualising the unfolding story in our heads. Having already had experiences with pathworking and meditation I was looking forward to this journey.

Martin,  leading the group,  eloquently begins, "Close your eyes and take a breath... in... and ... out"

I'm slowly drawing my breath in and out, in and out as he takes us further.

"You are surrounded by a beautiful scene, cool green grass beneath your feet and a clear blue sky above your head. In front of you is a river. On the river is a boat. You climb into the boat and begin your journey".

I can see the boat and the river in front of me, then suddenly the scene changes.
I am in a dark corridor. I'm scared.
I turn a corridor and I see something illuminated on the wall. Its brightly coloured hieroglyphics. I know I have to carry on. I stumble through the darkness and turn another corner to see another highlighted scene. Then I am lost in the dark.

The scene changes and I am sitting on a boat. Its a rather splendid boat, I'm with what appears to be a man with a head of a dog. I look around. The boat glides gracefully down the river and on the banks there are people waiting. I am struck by the azure sky and almost blinding sandstone banks.
The boat pulls to a close and I am greeted off the boat by two people.

"And when your boat comes to a stop I want you to get out, take five steps, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and slowly bring your awareness back to the here and now. When you're ready open your eyes."

I slowly open my eyes and look around, regaining my sense of here and now.

"So, would anyone like to share their experiences?" Martin enquires

The majority speak of being on a lovely river in the countryside, describing it as green and lush their boats went into caves, or just along a riverbank.

I speak, with some sense of trepidation when my turn arises.

"Well, I don't think I went to the same place as you guys." I describe the scene and what happened during the meditation.

"That's very interesting, thanks for sharing."

I leave the house and ponder to myself what it might mean. I am suddenly struck with a great desire to find out more about Egypt. I start to read books connected with Egypt to find out more about it. When my now ex-husband asked where we should go on honeymoon, there was only one answer. Egypt.

Past Lives

I’m running. My legs ache while they pump their way through the knee length dried grass. It’s dark. My heart pounds deeply and strongly in my chest and my breathing is laboured. I have to get away from them. I have to escape.

I break from the trees and run into the clearing in front of a church building. Sanctuary at last, somewhere I might find help to rid myself of my pursuers.

I approach the doorway and frantically reach for the latch. The coolness of the metal sits hard in my hand as I squeeze and turn. The heavy oak door creaks open and inside I find the high vaulted arches of sandstone. I breathe. I sigh. To my left I see a font, carved in sandstone, its bulbous belly pregnant with holy water. I reach out my left had to stroke the curves, the texture gritty under my fingers.

“The font, the font” I whisper. I fall to knees and begin to cry. At last I begin to feel safe, secure and home.

I feel a pain in my back. Rather like being punched. Then the sharpness hits me. I try to breathe in, but I struggle. I breathe in and can’t quite catch it. Slowly, for what seems like an age a blackness covers my vision. I am no longer breathing.

I wake up, gasping for breath. My heart pounds. I feel the sharp pain in my back again. My awareness returns and I realise that I'm lying in bed. The pain is due to an elbow which has found its way into my back and the very position where the stabbing occurred. The revelation begins.

“Grae?” I ventured. “You awake?”

“Hm, yeah.” A muffled sound emerges from the slightly awake body lying next to me

 “This is going to sound really weird, but you stabbed me in the back”

“I did what?” Suddenly he’s more alert.

“I just had this strange dream, only I wasn’t fully asleep.” I described the ‘dream’ to Graeme, who lay there somewhat bemused. “It was definitely you and you stabbed me in the back”

“You’re just dreaming, just because my elbow was in your back, doesn’t mean I stabbed you.”

I described the girl who I was in the dream. I was around twelve, with dark curly hair that was shoulder length. I was running away from some men. I saw the church and knew I’d be safe. However, he had found another way in, or was also hiding from something. I told him that this took place in the Second World War and that he, Graeme, was a Nazi soldier who stabbed me because I must have startled him; or perhaps he stabbed me because it was dark and he didn’t know who it was. An almost accidental killing.

I arms slid around me and gave me a hug. Finally after a few years of feeling uncertain, of wondering why I always felt so insecure, I finally found out why I felt this way. I was reliving a moment in a past life.

I have had other past life experiences down the years, some very clear, some not so clear. I’ll discuss them later.

If we believe that we’re all connected, that we’re all one interconnected soul then this might go some way to explaining people's experiences of past lives. If we have past lives, past experiences that can’t be explained by the current definition and perception of life, then being part of a greater whole might be some way of explaining this. If we are all one soul, a universal conciousness, experiencing life on an individual basis, who can say whether past life experiences are real or not? It might be that by this one soul creating individual human experiences there is some overlap. Perhaps the greater soul needs to experience some things more than once and brings together groups of souls to relive experiences together. If Karma is bought into the equation then the whole experience of past lives begins to make sense.

According to the freedictionary.com site Karma is defined as:

Kar·ma  (kärm)

n.

1. Hinduism & Buddhism The total effect of a person's actions and conduct during the successive 

phases of the person's existence, regarded as determining the person's destiny.

2. Fate; destiny.

3. Informal A distinctive aura, atmosphere, or feeling: There's bad karma around the house today.

So, if Karma is the total effect of the actions of someone during their life/lives and is also determining of someone’s destiny, then Karma has already decided the path we must take.

In order to negate Karma we have to be aware of it. Kind of like being aware of any mistakes we are making or have made and taking appropriate action to put them right. However, this isn’t always possible in one life time. According to Hinduism and Buddhism, any mistakes made in past incarnations need to be resolved in this life time, or in coming life times in order to negate the effects of the Karma. If we don’t seek to correct the mistakes we’ll be caught in the endless cycle of life, death and rebirth until we put it right.

If only it were that simple. In our own day to day lives we make choices. The choices we make often informed by our current level of experience. We also won’t be aware whether we make a good choice or a bad choice until we have experiences that are either positive or negative. Sometimes the negative experiences give us vital skills in survival that we might not gain from positive experiences and vice versa. Only by making choices and experiencing things can we then make better informed choices down the line.

With regard to past lives if we make a mistake, or do something horrible in that life, we can choose to put it right in this life, or not. Either way the choice is ours. We have free will. We can choose whether experiences are going to be bad or good for us.

Chapter 2 - Talking about it all.

Chapter 2 - Talking about it all

"Mum, have you ever had any strange dreams?" I sat down on the sofa next to my mum, the sun shining through the windows. I must have been around seven or eight. I needed to know what the dreams were and I asked the only person who I thought might be able to help.

"Well.. sometimes." My mother answered tentatively, "I usually dream that your Nan Beaman is pregnant when someone in the family is going to have a baby"

"Oh, that's interesting, so do you know who is having the baby, or anything like that?" I asked, my interest piqued.

"Usually not, only that my mum, your nan is pregnant, why do you ask?"

I began to feel quite uncomfortable and wasn't sure how to approach my disclosure.

"Only I've had a dream that keeps repeating itself, "I began, my stomach tied in knots as I spoke, "its really weird mum and its making me scared to go to sleep"

"Its only a nightmare, don't worry, you'll be OK. When I get those dreams I get strange feelings sometimes too, like something has happened before and I can't stop it." She assured.

 My guard was dropping, I began to feel like I could open up.

"Yeah, but I see things, people in my room and they take me places."

Abruptly my mum called the matter to a close, "Its nothing. Just a dream. Promise me you won't talk to your dad about it, he gets angry about things like this, we shouldn't talk about it any more."

Stifled, I began to feel the sense of uneasiness draw across me once more. I then realised that I couldn't talk to my mum about my experiences. But what was I to do? Who could I talk to? My friends at school would just laugh. I was being bullied anyway so really didn't want to have more reason for people to deride me. I decided from that day that if I was going to find out about the dreams and experiences I was going to have to do it the hard way. On my own.

From a dream awakened...

I am asleep. Then the dream begins. Before me stand two people. They seem to have the appearance of human beings but something isn't 'right', something doesn't feel 'right'. I begin to cry. Tears flood my eyes. The humanlike creatures have told me I have to go with them. One is very tall and so thin, each limb looks too frail to be human, yet it appears with a human face and distorted human body. It moves delicately, rather like an insect. I'm aware of the arms being so painfully thin, with elongated hands and thin, rippling fingers. The face appears calm, yet I know its not the true face, its hiding something. I feel fear grip my stomach. The other creature is quite opposite to the first. It is short and round. Painfully round. Again it appears to be human, but I feel that its hiding its true nature. It hurts me to look at them both. I cry more, calling out for my mummy and daddy to come and rescue me. The beings take me.

I am walking down a brightly lit white corridor. The two creatures are talking to me yet I am unable to bring to mind what they're saying. I keep thinking "I must have something to remember this by, some kind of touchstone to bring me back. Something to tell me that I'm here again". You see, I have a sense of having been here before. I am so afraid, so scared, as I have no idea what they want with me. Then I see it. A short cupboard, rather like a bedside cabinet, made of wood. This will be my touchstone. This will be my reminder. Something tangible and 'normal' in the midst of this experience. I pass the object, but I know it's there, I know it's real.

The beings take me out into a large, oval shaped room. It reminds me of a football stadium, except that it has a roof. It's all white in here too. At one end there is a large screen. There are other people here, other human people. I'm no longer alone with the creatures. But I can't talk to the others. I try to shout, but there's no sound. I am so very scared.

The dream changes. I am standing next to a log cabin in the middle of some woods by a river. I can smell the scent of pine, hear the rustling of the leaves in the wind. The sun shines and makes patterns on the ground and gives everything a golden hue. It must be autumn. I hear noises through the trees the sound of logs rolling. The trunks of what appear to be hundreds of trees are rolling down the hill toward me. I am rooted to the spot. I begin to scream and the logs roll over me, hundreds and hundreds of logs piling over me. I feel no pain, I'm just screaming.

I wake up, still screaming, but there is no sound, I try to move and all my limbs are like lead. They feel swollen. I manage to move my hands, my fingers feel like useless sausages all swollen and immovable. I am sweating the cold sweat of fear. I see a shadow in the corner of my room. "Daddy?!" I am able to make a noise finally. The shadow creeps across my room from one wall to the other and vanishes. "Oh its OK, its just Spiderman". I try to rationalise what I've just witnessed. I see a clockface appear on the wall. London comes to mind and Big Ben. I finally fall into a deep calming sleep. I am no longer afraid.

It wasn't the last time I had the 'dream'. I had this dream many times during childhood. So much so that I became deeply afraid of going to sleep. Apparently, when I was a baby, I slept for no more than half an hour a night the rest of the time was consumed by crying. I didn't sleep during the day either, my time was spent drinking in experiences and learning what I could as quickly as was possible for me. I was walking at nine months and could read before I went to school. My mum regularly used to catch me watching Open University programmes and even commented once how I had worked out a mathematical equation before the answer had been given on-screen. I hasten to add that maths has never been my strong point in this world.

The dream first started when I was around three or so, or should I say, that's when I became aware of it. Almost like a pre-cursor to something. I have never found out what the 'beings' have wanted. I know that I don't have control over the contact and the 'contact' has changed over time as I have grown and developed different abilities in life. The two beings in this 'dream' last appeared when I was fifteen, or should I say, it was the last time that I was aware that these particular beings came to me.

I have spent the following years learning what I could about the supernatural, the occult, that which is hidden from view. Growing up I often read ghost stories and would sense things and be told "It's nothing". I had dreams, such vivid dreams. Would experience a weird sensation of having been in a situation before, a deja-vu feeling, knowing that I'd once dreamed it and now it was  really taking place. This happened a fair bit as I grew and still does from time to time. Now I notice it as a precursor to something larger; a change in circumstances for me, a change of job, moving home, or even a change in love relationships. I see it as an augury of change. I never know what the change will be, only that change is around the corner. The more often I get the experience, the more likely it herald a big change. I will make a choice after which things seem to settle down, until it all begins again and I get the feeling that I've experienced something before and have dreamed something into being.

Down the years I have attempted to tell people of my experiences. Some laugh, others mock. Some are scared by it. Others agree that its perfectly 'normal' (whatever that is) to have these experiences. All I know is that I have had them. I have looked for explanations. My life has been a quest. A search for an understanding and meaning behind what has happened.

Natural Supernature... The Blog!!

Here is a place where I intend to do my writing. I am compiling research for a book and will also be delivering a bit of an autobiography. This is probably going to be a place of mind venting and pin pointing what I will be including in a book eventually, so expect streams of conciousness writing and dot connecting.

So my book is to try and uncover the natural supernature that is part of many people's lives. They might not realise it, but what they attribute to 'weird' experiences is something for them not to be afraid of.

I'm someone who doesn't like 'labels'. I don't like labelling things, never have, as I see that the potential of a given thing might be restricted if we give it a label. I'm only calling my writing a 'book', because it may get published at some point. Also when we label things we tend to take them for granted. By labelling something we are not allowing it to be anything else. For example if each one of us didn't learn to speak, or communicate in the same or similar languages, and were allowed to develop our own unique language, would we still call a table a 'table'? Also, if we zoom in to the microscopic structure of said table, we find atoms whizzing around in something.. Most would say 'space', but the 'space' had been proven scientifically to not be empty, but to be filled with stuff that is beyond our current perception. The table then ceases to be a table, but merely a bunch of atoms zooming around in some kind of 'stuff', some of the electrons zooming in and out of our perception, meaning that technically at times the table exists and other times it doesn't. The long and short of it being that the table and us are the same, all made up of the same 'stuff'.

So, how does this 'stuff' know how to form into the objects that we perceive? Well, its down to how we see it really. Literally down to our own perception. If we perceive a table to exist then it exists. I heard tale of Natives in some far off land not seeing the Conquistador ships sailing toward them, as they had never seen a ship before, they were beyond the perception of the said natives. If we can't 'see' something then, does it exist? Spiritualist mediums talk of spiritual realms, where deceased relatives hang out and wait to be called to move on. The medium, a kind of 'go-between' accesses the place where the souls of the deceased hang out and communicate with them. The vast majority of humanity have no concept of this, or perception of this, but a medium will as it is within their perception field.

So things become real when we perceive that they are 'real' (whatever 'real' is!)

Techincally speaking our reality is the way it is because we perceive it to be that way. Then we start getting into the realms of being able to change our reality, changing our reality through changing our perception of reality. We can all see both the positive and negative side of our reality, of our lives, if you will. We might see problems as hills to overcome, or something we can't escape from.

I'll give you an example. Professor Stephen Hawking. Here is someone who has suffered in his life. He developed Motor Neurone Disease and began a decline into his illness. However, Professor Hawking has done something that not many people do when faced with insurmountable odds. He has chosen to change his reality. How? He hasn't become defined by his illness. Admittedly he has physical issues, but he has a brilliant mind, keen, acute and observant. This brilliant man has developed theories about our Universe that leave us reeling that have finally allowed many people to have a 'a-ha' moment as the lightbulb has switched on. He isn't his illness, neither is he labelled as such. Thankfully we have people like Professor Hawking in the world. So, he is someone, who despite everything, still has achieved something and created a new reality for himself. It might not be in exactly the way he would have liked, but he is still an inspiration to many.

To wrap this part up: Reality can be defined by our perception of it and as such can be changed and not limited.