Writing Creatively With Spirit

A journey of psychic discovery


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Loving it by the lake

2014-06-28 19.56.50I’m just coming to the end of 3 weeks in Carnforth just outside the Lake District.

I came up to try and finish the workbook that accompanies Love is Not a Reward – and it worked. Not only did I finish it (thanks to an extra FREE week at the Pine Lake Resort – a long story) but I’ve also started to write the play for stage that I agreed to do a year ago.

Most of the time was about the writing, but I took some time out to do a little exploring.

I loved the walks along the side of the Lancaster Canal. On the day I finished I walked the ten miles from Pine Lake to Tewitfield and back along the canal on an air of elation.

I managed to get into Morcombe a couple of times and strolled along the promenade eating ice cream, as well as frequent trips into the lovely town of Carnforth.

Sculpture of mother and child in Morcombe

Sculpture of mother and child in Morcombe

I’ve been guided by spirit on numerous occasions during the writing of Love is Not a Reward, from being told to keep the title when I was about to change it, to being guided to the colours to use on the cover – and many more pointers on the content.

Most of the guidance came through journeying and dreams, but some came through messages from mediums and fellow sitters in psychic development circles.

Boats on the Lancaster Canal

Boats on the Lancaster Canal

I set of at the beginning of this blog curious as to whether my spiritual development would influence my writing – silly to think it wouldn’t!

I feel a book about the whole experience coming on – but not until I’ve finished the play – which I guess will only add more chapters.

Both the text and workbook of Love is Not a Reward are in production at the moment and should be available by the end of August.


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An evening with Gordon Smith

Sunday 23rd February 2014

From the excellence of Moon on a Rainbow Shawl I moved almost seamlessly to an amazing evening with Gordon Smith – psychic medium extraordinaire.

I was spellbound (excuse the pun) by his accuracy. None of my ancestors or dear departed friends wanted to speak to me, but it was a delight to witness this man deliver messages that prove the existence of a spirit world in such an entertaining way.

I left with renewed commitment to remembering my ancestors in my daily life. Check out Gordon Smith here, he may be in your area soon.


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One year on

10th January 2014

An idea lives on

An idea lives on

One year ago today (10th January 2013) I started this blog to share with others the strange phenomena that had happened with my second novel, (i.e. things I’d written about started to happen in real life) see below and also see about. I wanted to see whether engaging in psychic development would have any noticeable effect on my future writing.

It has been an amazing year.

Crystal ball

Crystal ball

Circles – I began going to psychic development circles on Mondays and Thursdays. The Monday classes were focused more on using tools such as cards, crystal balls etc to give messages. The Thursday classes focused more on connecting directly with spirit (mediumship) in order to give messages.

I had many fantastic experiences. I realised that I could give messages using just about anything from cards, crystal balls, photographs, coloured ribbon, to plant leaves, flowers and scrunched up bits of paper. I learned that these things are just props, something to focus on until the connection with spirit is so strong that you don’t need them anymore. In the Thursday sessions I built my connection and learned how to do it without the props.

PICT2188I was given many amazing messages from others in these sessions. I also learned that a trained and experienced circle leader can see inside your meditation. It was in one of these sessions that I was directed to look more closely at the Maroons in Jamaica. Several messages from different people lead me to push past my fear and explore shamanism. I first met one of my animal teachers at a Thursday circle.

The Amadeus Centre, West London

The Amadeus Centre, West London

Shamanism – My exploration of shamanism took me to a workshop at the Amadeus in London in June. It was called The Way of the Shaman. It was incredibly intense and I came away knowing that shamanism was the spiritual path for me. It lead to a new category of the blog by the same name.

Earl Purdy and me - awesome man

Earl Purdy and me at A Course in Miracles Conference – awesome man 

Workshops – In between the circles and the shamanic workshop I attended a number of other developmental workshop. These are recorded under Developmental Events.

 

 

 

Dreams – Once I began the circles my dreams became much more active and in some cases predictive. Many of these are recorded under Dreams. I was incredibly grateful to everyone who made suggestions on how to interpret them.

Graves at Brompton Cemetry

Graves at Brompton Cemetry

Stepping stones – Sometimes things would happen that didn’t fit into any of the categories. Things like seeing things flash before my eyes, or hearing voices that instructed me to do certain things (am I scaring you now?) like when I was told about Tom Seligman. The information lead me to more information for the research for the book I was writing. Another lead me to West Brompton Cemetery in London.

Countdown to Cameroon – From the research I developed a curiosity about my African ancestry. I took a DNA test which showed that my ancestors were from Cameroon. In October I set off to find them and had an adventure that surpassed all my expectation.

African Ancestry DNA kit

African Ancestry DNA kit

Writing – And what about the writing? As well as the many thousands of words of blogging I wrote two more books.

The first, Never on Sunday was published as an ebook in August and in December in hard copy. Both are available from Amazon.

Never on Sunday by Penny Dixon

Never on Sunday by Penny Dixon

The second book, Love is Not a Reward is current out to readers for comment. The ones I’ve received so far are favourable. This is the one that’s linked to the parenting course that I’ve been writing for the polytechnic in Barbados. It’s due out in about three months time.

Trying to get over the shock

It wasn’t all hard work in Barbados

So has the experiment worked? Did the psychic development influence my writing? The only evidence I have is that things I’ve written in both Never on Sunday and Love is Not a Reward have happened in real life. I’m still a little spooked by it because I never know which things are going to manifest in real life. Maybe that would be true prediction, true prophecy.

Where to now? – Well, the writing continues. I have at least eight books in my head waiting to come out. Spiritually I will be focusing more on shamanic practices and will write about these as much as I can.

Dancing with the juju man

Dancing with the juju man in Cameroon

Back to Cameroon – I’ll be going back to Cameroon later this year so will be writing about that too, along with anything interesting that happens in my spiritual, ancestral and writing world. I hope you will continue to drop in from time to time.


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Countdown to Cameroon – 5 days to go – The calm before the storm

Friday 13th September 2013

Legacy of the Black Gods - In Time Before Time by Paul Simons: Nebu Ka Ma'at

Legacy of the Black Gods – In Time Before Time by Paul Simons: Nebu Ka Ma’at

By the time I went to bed last night I was feeling pretty chuffed with myself for being so organised. I’m more or less packed, I’ve printed off all my paperwork, re-checked the flight details, and accepted and packed a mobile phone and some pens donated by one of my sons for me to take with me. (Nice replacement for all the ones I found that still don’t work and therefore not worth taking).

As far as my work goes, I was as up-to-date as I could be at this stage; and the book I’d ordered Legacy of the Black Gods – In time before time arrived. I thought it might be a fitting holiday read. Obviously hoping I get some time to read.

Was it all going too smoothly? Was that why I created the drama this morning of a shower that wouldn’t turn off? Brought in the tension and anxiety of not knowing where the stop cocks were for the water? ‘Why am I creating this?’ I asked myself in the midst of rushing around the house.

Then I sat and thought logically about what needed to be done, cleared my head of panic and found the stop cock – in a place I’d looked previously. My reminder? Anxiety and panic clouds the answer. Water represents emotions. When emotions are running out of control clear thinking is not possible. Calm brings clarity, as does ‘please ancestors, show me where the stop cock is.’

The problem has now been resolved. I’m going to savour the time I have left and keep it drama free. My plan is to catch up with a few friends who I’ve been putting on hold during the preparations. And to work out how all the audio/visual kit I’m taking with me works. Also going to do some more research into Cameroon and how it sits in all respects in An

I’ve put editing of Love is Not a Reward on hold for the time being. I’m trusting it will all get done in divine timing.


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Countdown to Cameroon – 16 days to go – getting in the essentials

Monday 2nd September 2013

Yes, I was busy today. The kind of busy you get when you know there’re only so many days to go and you see how much you have to fit into them. The pre-holiday busy. When you begin to wish you’d attended to a few of those things earlier.

First thing on the list was to call the Cameroon High Commission to check the status of my visa. The person I spoke to said she’d just completed it, did I want her to post it to me. ‘I’ll collect it tomorrow,’ I said after she confirmed that it would be sent out by ordinary post.

I immediately booked travel to London on the coach – trains were much more expensive at such short notice and some of them not much quicker than the coach. The five and three quarter hours there and back will allow me to get through a chunk of The Healing Spirit of Africa.

I shopped today. I shopped for a mosquito net, Wellington boots, sleeping bag, raincoat and trousers and a big suitcase on wheels.

The shop assistant was amazed that I’d never a) owned a pair of Wellington boots or a sleeping bag and b) that I’d never shopped in GO OUTDOORS.

However there were a couple of things I hadn’t planned for. Well it was the same thing with two different people. Talking to a friend about his connection with spirit it became obvious that he needs to make peace with his father. His father is trying to make amends and he’s pushing him away, no matter that he died several years ago. By the end of the discussion my friend had agreed to go and visit his dad’s grave and to be open to listening to him.

It occurred to me that this is the same issue for another friend who is having difficulties in a number of areas of his life. When I called him and said ‘things will not improve for you until you make peace with your father,’ there was silence on the other end of the phone.

He told me his very resistance to the suggestion meant there must be some truth in it. His father is still alive; he doesn’t need to visit a grave, just his estranged father’s house.

That’s when I realised that this is part of the work I need to do; to help men repair their relationships with their fathers.


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The Way of the Shaman – Journeying for Others – Page 7

Refreshed by strong green tea and some cherries brought in from one of the participant’s garden, and basking in the compliment that I looked remarkably fresh despite my lack of sleep, I was ready for the next session.

It began with Simon explaining that journeying on behalf of others is the raison d’être of a shaman. They go to the upper and lower worlds to find answers. If I’ve said this before it’s because it was said on so many occasions.

‘There are no hard and fast rules in shamanism,’ Simon said, ‘but there are some basic guidelines for effective journeying.’

  1. Never interpret the journey for the client.
  2. Tell the client that spirit communicates in metaphors. Pass the metaphors on as you get them. Don’t try to make sense of them for the client. This is an area where spirituality and shamanism differ markedly.
  3. Pay attention to what happens immediately after you’ve asked the question, particularly to any sensations in the body, any sounds, visions etc. And feedback to the client anything that happens to you, for example if it was a struggle to get going, it may be that the client is experiencing a struggle getting going on the issue they’ve brought.

The emphasis, he stressed, particularly for this session, was on having a go. For some it would be the first time of journeying for someone else but trust in the process would help massively.

‘This is where you get to choose your own question for journeying,’ he said.

PICT1217  ‘Think of an issue in your life that you’d like some clarity on, or a question you’d like an answer to. Write it down, and then choose someone to work with. It’s important that you choose someone you don’t know because then you will trust more what you’re given without wondering if you’ve made it up because you know the person.’

I couldn’t think of anything pressing, and eventually settled on asking what do I need to focus on when I go to Cameroon?

A young woman who was to the right of me who I hadn’t worked with before agreed for us to work together.

‘How odd,’ she said in surprise when we disclosed our questions. Hers was What will I gain from going to Geneva next week? ‘We both have questions about travelling.’

Not so odd I thought. People with similar issues have a way of finding each other on these courses.

Although in reality the client would not undertake a journey at the same time as the shaman, Simon said that as this was a training session each person – client and shaman – would journey on the same question/issue and compare experiences at the end. So it was that both my partner and I journeyed on my question first.

The Journeys

Again the blindfold, again the drumming, and again I choose to go to the lower world, even though we had the choice of either upper or lower, and again I went down the roots of the copper birch tree in my garden.

I came straight out into the village clearing and the jaguar was waiting for me.

‘Where’s grandma?’ I asked, wondering why I hadn’t gone through the room again.

‘Her job was to introduce us,’ he said as though talking to a small child who doesn’t yet understand the ways of the adult world. ‘She’s done that now.’

‘I’m so happy to see you.’ I said.

‘It’s good to have you back,’ he answered smiling.

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Sure, that’s what I’m here for,’ he replied and looked at me quizzically.

‘What do I need to focus on when I’m in Cameroon?’

He held his head down for a while then beckoned to me to walk with him. After only a few paces he stopped and I saw a circle of stones of different shapes, sizes and colours. I looked at them for a while expecting them to either do something or for him to explain what they were for.

When it became evident I didn’t know what to do he indicated to me to pick them up. It was as I bent to pick up the first one that I noticed there were twelve of them in the circle.

I held the first stone, a pale looking one that fitted snugly into my left palm, and watched in astonishment as it changed into a dove and fluttered away.

The second, slightly larger stone, was covered in moss. As I rubbed the moss away I instantly found myself in a brightly lit cafe somewhere in Birmingham, England, with orange and yellow decor.

I was there just long enough to think ‘how strange’ before I was back with the jaguar and the stones.

I had massive resistance to picking up the third, a very dark, almost black flat stone. The jaguar noticed my reluctance and kept quietly encouraging me to pick it up.

I finally bent down, and as I picked it up I felt a wave of energy rush through my body. It was as if someone had turned a fire fighter’s pressure hose full on and the water was being pumped through my body at full force. I gripped the stone tight, the only thing I had to hold on to as the force pushed me backward. I feared I would fall, and at that moment noticed that the jaguar had positioned himself behind me to support me if indeed I fell.

I was still holding the stone and trying to steady myself when I heard the call back tempo. I said a quick thank you to my jaguar teacher and ran, still holding the stone back up the roots. I left the stone on my drive before returning to the room.

After I told my partner what had happened, she apologised and said nothing quite that dramatic happened to her. She said she saw a big cat lying chilled out on a beach allowing the waves to wash over him.

Was it a black jaguar?’ I asked intrigued.

‘No, it wasn’t black, a bit mottled and I think it was a leopard.’

He kept disappearing and appearing again until she asked him to stand still long enough for her to get a good look at him. Then he was suddenly ‘in her face’ but not in a scary way.

The beach was a small cove with cliffs behind it, and the leopard encouraged her to lay down with him and let the waves wash over her too. The odd thing was that the waves were rainbow coloured, not the usual white foam.

There wasn’t time to process the information to any great degree because we had to move into changing over.

I went straight back down through the roots again to ask the question on her behalf, but this time there were some obstructions that I had to get past, so the ride down was not as smooth.

The jaguar was there waiting for me as before.

‘Back so soon?’ he said half jokingly.

‘Yes, I have a question about someone else. Can I ask you on someone else’s behalf?’

‘I’ve told you, it’s what I’m here for,’ he answered patiently.

‘Well, the question is ‘what will Trina gain from going to Geneva next week?’’

He was still for so long I wondered if he’d heard me, and I was just getting ready to ask the question again when he began walking around in a big figure of eight.

‘Anything else?’ I asked when he stopped.

‘Tell her she will learn to climb.’ Then he showed me two ladders. ‘Tell her she will learn to climb quicker without the ladders.’

Then he rapidly showed me Trina flying a kite on a hill. The green body of the kite had a pink tail attached and was flying free.

Pineapple

Pineapple

Next he took me down what appeared to be a grove or a tropical orchard. On the right was an orange tree with one orange on it. On the left a pineapple tree with one pineapple on it, and straight ahead a hibiscus bush with a fully open stunning cerise flower.

‘Tell her she’s wiser than she knows,’ he said. And just when I was thinking it was a lot to remember I heard the call back drums. As I was saying thank you and getting ready to leave he said, ‘show her the bear skin rug,’ and showed me a bear skin rug.

As I did her feedback her eyebrows raised further and further up her face, and when I mentioned the bear skin rug her hand flew to her mouth. The only thing she asked me was whether a hibiscus is similar to an orchid.

She shared a bit of her story. The trip to Geneva is to see a partner who had recently become her ex. As the ticket was already bought and they were still friends they’d agreed that she’d still go.

It was her intention to climb while she was there, her ex-partner was mad about orchids and the reason her hand had flown to her face was because he’d always said he’d buy a bear skin rug to put in front of the fire place and make love to her on it.

She could not yet make sense of the other pieces of information, but those three pieces had been convincing enough.

This is where I felt a strong conflict between working spiritually, psychically and shamanically. (Is there such a word?) Working psychically I would be trying to make sense of the metaphors for her. I’d be looking at the fact that the kite was green and pink and therefore connected to the heart, that the ladders were not necessarily about physical climbing, that the orange, pineapple and hibiscus represented tropical regions. But I couldn’t, and as I held my thoughts to myself I realised that it probably wasn’t a good thing to try to interpret the metaphors. I’d never have known the meaning of the bear skin rug.

A few days later when I was telling a friend about my part of the journey she was fascinated that the stone turned into a dove. She googled ‘stone turning into a dove’ and came up with an RSPB project called Dovestone Reservoir Memory Bank Oral History Project

http://www.rspb.org.uk/volunteering/6258-dove-stone-reservoir-memory-bank-oral-history-project-volunteer

It’s a project using volunteers. It would appear that at least some of my volunteering in Cameroon should be spent looking at oral history.

With some reflection I think the other images were about looking at or supporting an enterprise project, and certainly the black stone represented a deep and powerful connection with the land.

I know that this is a long blog, but if you have any comment on any of it at all, however tiny I’d love to hear from you.


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Session 39 – Meeting my power animal

Thursday 18th July 2013

2002-01-01 00.00.00-1386Another small group, 3 men and two women but so different to last week.  We were in the log cabin again, but began our first relaxation meditation not long after 7.30.

Just as I closed my eyes to begin I saw two cats playing on the floor to the left of me.

As I’d mentioned to Greg that I was going on a shamanic workshop at the weekend he said he’d do a shamanic journey with us to meet our power animals. He’d very generously offered to help me choose a stone from the garden that would be suitable to take with me on the course. He thought the one I’d chosen was too big (not palm size as requested by the course but more something that could be used as a lethal weapon). He said it was likely to be the first of 13 alter stones if I decided to pursue a shamanic path therefore a smaller would be better.

He told us some of the basic differences between shamanism and spiritualism, but basically said there was a lot of overlap. He then took up on a shamanic journey (without the drums) to meet out power animals.

He ask us to climb up a hill and then down the other side.

‘Stop and look back at how far you’ve come,’ he said.

I was about half way down. He told us to look across the landscape to an island shrouded in mist. We were heading for the island but first we had to go through the woods that were directly in front of us.

‘Stand still and wait for a sign to show you which direction to go in,’ he said.

I waited. A coconut fell off a tree and rolled to my left. (What’s a coconut tree doing in a British woods!!!) Anyway, no time to think about it as we were being instructed that we had now come to a clearing where there was a lake and a ceremonial robe. We had to put it on.

There were seven robes on the ground in front of me, one in each colour of the rainbow. I had an internal tussle between the yellow and the purple one, but finally choose the purple.

‘Step into the lake,’ Greg instructed us, ‘and get into the canoe which you can now see.’

Wet and dripping I got in, marvelling at how things can just materialise in front of your very eyes in meditation.

We had to row across to the island, get out and choose between one of three paths, a wood, a river and a beach.

I really wanted to follow the river but found myself pulled to the beach.

‘Sit on a rock or a log. Close your eyes and wait for your power animal to come to you,’ he said. ‘Be aware that it could be huge like an elephant or tiny like a wren, or even an ant. When you feel your animal’s presence open your eyes and look at it.’

Even while Greg was still speaking I saw, in my mind’s eye, a sleek and graceful black jaguar walking down the beach towards me. When I opened my eyes I found myself looking deep into its eyes. His face was only inches away from me, but I felt no fear. In fact I felt the opposite, I felt completely safe.

‘Walk with your power animal,’ Greg told us.

As we began walking along the beach I could feel his power and knew he could and would protect me from anything.

‘Ask your power animal if it has a message for you,’ Greg said.

I waited for the jaguar to say something to me. When he spoke to me it was telepathically.

‘You’re stronger than you believe. You’re faster than you know. Never fear those who fear you.’ His voice was strong but soothing, and I was about to ask what he meant by ‘never fear those who fear you’, when Greg said,

‘You come to a river and have to get back into the boat.’

Power Animal Oracle Cards

Power Animal Oracle Cards

I was feeling a little sad that I had to leave but perked up when Greg said, ‘Your power animal gets in with you and you paddle back to the other side. When you get there get out of the canoe and immerse yourself into the water before coming back into the room.’

I reflected on my messages while the first person shared her journey. She too had seen a black jaguar, but had also had a bear and a bird. I’d look up Jaguar in my Power Animal pack with I got home.

The first two parts of my message made sense to me, but why would I fear those who fear me?

Greg said he felt it was about letting go of my fears, not just learning how to control them but letting go of them completely, because I had nothing to fear.

I mentioned the cats.

‘Was one of them black,’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ I replied wondering if he’d seen them too.

‘They are often in here,’ he said. They used to live here and their spirits obviously come back from time to time to visit.

‘Must be a thing with cats tonight,’ I joked.

Because three of us had unanswered questions from the meditation Greg suggested doing ten minute silent meditation to ask for answers. One was ‘Why am I constantly hot?’ Another ‘Why am I always rocking?’ A third was ‘How do I step into my power?’ and mine was ‘How do I get rid of my fear?’

Within minutes I felt a tremendous tingling in my back. It went on for some time. I began to wonder if it meant ‘don’t look back’ or ‘learn from the past’ or ‘don’t hold on to past hurts.’ I was still trying to work it out when Greg called us back.

One of the women said that tingling in the back is usually an indication that our angelic wings are being fitted, or if already fitted being adjusted, often being made bigger.

Greg thought it was about not focusing on the past, but looking to the future.

I’m still not sure. Do you have any other suggestions???

 


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Henry Morgan and the Oversoul

Thursday June 27th 2013

There’s a line in a Bob Marley song that says ‘Don’t forget your history. Know your destiny.’ (From the song Rat Race).

Sunset in the Caribbean

Sunset in the Caribbean

Evidently spirit thinks I’ve forgotten mine and seem to be setting out to remind me. It’s beginning to feel like my connection with spirit is one big history lesson.

I was at a meeting on Monday night and drifted into a conversation with my grandmother. Remembering Greg’s and Cain’s advice to ask our guides to reveal as much information about themselves as possible I said, ‘Come on Grandma, why don’t you show me your face?’ Strange though it may seem I’ve never seen a photo of my grandmother, and never met her in person as she died way before I was born.

I sat and waited. Nothing happened. I softened my gaze and looked into the glass panel of the door facing me. Nothing. I gazed a bit more. Gradually the profile of a face appeared.

Well, as you can imagine, I was fascinated. It became clearer the more I looked. It was a strong face with what appeared to be a mass of curly hair. The eye (remember I’m seeing it in profile) was deep-set, and the was chin long and curved. But it was the nose that surprised me. It was large and quite straight. Throughout the night I looked up and it was still there.

I wanted to call my friend when I got home to let her know what had happened, but I received a text that a colleague had committed suicide and felt the need to speak to the person who’d sent it to me instead. As A Course In Miracles practitioners we both agreed that he could now find the peace he found it so hard to recognise here. I went to bed still excited.

On Tuesday I went to buy some sage and incense sticks and got chatting to the woman in the shop who’s very spiritual. I told her of my plans to go to Cameroon.

‘Remember to speak to the oversoul of the place when you get there,’ she advised.

‘The over what?’ I asked.

‘The oversoul,’ she repeated. ‘Every place has an energy that takes responsibility for the well-being of the place, from the highest mountain to the tiniest flower. When you go anywhere new, it’s a good idea to ask the oversoul how you can be of help, and also what you can learn from the place.’

Caribbean sunset

Caribbean sunset

Well, (must stop using so many wells) I was intrigued. I’d never heard of this before, and was even more interested when she said that sometimes oversouls use willing individuals to put them in touch with the oversouls of other places that they’ve visited.

‘Can the oversoul contact you before you get there?’ I wondered, as it does feel that Cameroon called me, and that in some way I’m being asked to take something from Cameroon to Jamaica. Maybe I’m being asked to put the oversouls back in touch with each other?

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘especially if you put out the message that you want to help. Go with the mind that you’re bringing them something, and that you’ll receive something, and you can’t go wrong.’

That night I did some more research the Maroons in Clarendon. I figured it would be helpful to know a bit more about the history of Jamaica before I go to Cameroon for two reasons.

  1. If I’m asked about my birthplace I won’t appear totally ignorant.
  2. To see more clearly what it is I need to take from Cameroon to Jamaica.

I found that one of the first and biggest uprising of slaves happened in Clarendon, and that Henry Morgan, a British Governor was based there.

That’s when I remembered that my grandmother’s maiden name was Morgan, so I looked up Henry and WOW! The face in the glass was his – the curly hair – the straight nose – the long chin.

Of course I wanted to know more about the man, his Welsh origins and his buccaneering.

I really am fascinated by this process, and although I’m not sure where its leading me I’m prepared to trust it.

I’ve looked into the oversoul. The only references I’ve found are to an online game and to an essay of Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Have you ever heard of the oversoul in this context? Would love to know if you have and what you make of it.


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Further down the rabbit hole

Sunday June 23rd 2013

Caribbean beach

Caribbean beach

On Thursday, during the meditation in the development session the facilitator said he could see a woman wrapped in a maroon cloak standing behind me holding an umbrella made of cane over my head. See the full story here.

I deduced from this that I was being told that there is a connection between me and the Maroons of Jamaica. I also wondered if I was being given a message to look at the link between Cameroon and the Maroons.

First I checked out the meaning of the colour maroon. There were two main meanings:

1)      It is symbolic of courage, bravery, heroism and strength.

2)      The colour is red-brown, like that obtained from clay and is associated with healing and power to repel malevolent spirits.

The Maroons in Jamaica represents all of the above. They were the runaway slaves who fought the British for their freedom 100 years before the official abolition of slavery.  They were, and still are, a very spiritual people. The current Maroon community in Jamaica still carries out a ritual in which they speak to the ancestors using MSL – Maroon Spirit Language.

But it wasn’t till I typed in ‘link between Maroons in Jamaica and Cameroon’ that I got the information that the original Maroons were made up of slaves taken from what is modern day Ghana and modern day Cameroon.

I just sat and stared at the screen. Not so much flabbergasted by the connections but by the means that I’d been made aware of them.

When I spoke to my sister-in-law tonight she said there is a Maroon community in Clarendon, which is where my mom is from.

I feel a trip to Jamaica to make connections with the Maroons coming on very shortly after my return from Cameroon.


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Poetry performance – The Guide

June 15th 2013

I’m a member of the writers group Writers Without Borders and was persuaded to perform at the Celebrating Sanctuary event today. Celebrating Sanctuary is an event held as part of Refugee week each year in June.

This poem is one that I wrote virtually in my sleep. I’d write a verse and try to get back to sleep, then another verse, and another would come until the poem was finished. I then slept soundly. Now I understand that it was probably a spirit dictated one.

I haven’t written much poetry recently. I find it quite difficult to write poetry when my head is in prose. Does anyone else find this? Is this literary inability to multi-task?