Writing Creatively With Spirit

A journey of psychic discovery

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Session 12 – Past life regression

February 14th 2013 (Thursday)

Despite it being Valentine’s Day there were ten of us, including Greg, at circle tonight. Were we all so keen, or were we the sad gits without Valentines to take us out and pamper us? Three men and seven women, and it weren’t just the older people either. The candle and crystal floor display from Monday was still in place, only the paper had been replaced by chakra coloured crystals.
PICT2168After our opening meditation, there was a request to do a past life regression meditation. I’ve had a couple of past life readings but never tried to do the regression myself. One of the readings was actually called a soul reading but it amounted to the same thing. I was told then that I’ve had several lives as teachers, either spiritual or academic. At least one as a fortune-telling gypsy living on the borders of France and Spain, (hence the possibility of me choosing a Spanish name this time round, and my first visit to Spain feeling like a home-coming), and one as a high priestess in Egypt. I also, allegedly, had a life as an academic Chinese male teacher.

As we went into the meditation and Greg took us back ten years, then twenty, then to childhood (for all the young ones who haven’t reached thirty yet), I wondered whether this prior knowledge would help or hinder my own attempts at regression.

I was able to do childhood well, but by the time I was back in the womb I wasn’t feeling the warmth and safety Greg was describing. I felt decidedly tense in the womb, not a pleasant place to be at all. As Greg encouraged us to go to the ending of our previous life I’d disconnected from the process, influenced unfortunately by thoughts of gypsies and Egypt.

Greg’s instructions at the beginning had been, ‘If at anytime you feel uncomfortable with the process open your eyes.’ And it was at this point that I did. Even though I closed them again and tried to continue, the moment had been lost.

About half the group were able to complete the meditation and reported seeing a previous self. They were also able to describe things that were happening around them at the time. Time zones included Victorian, Roman, prehistoric, and one person remembers being an ape.

When it was time for my feedback I asked if my past life readings could have influenced my meditation. Greg at first thought I meant previous attempts at past life regression, but when I explained that I meant readings he was a little surprised. He doesn’t think it’s possible to do a past life reading because only you can go back and find out who you were.

I was puzzled, because as I understand it, in the spirit world there is no past, present or future. Therefore when a medium connect to spirit to do a reading he or she has access to all that was, is, and will be. That’s why a good medium can be so accurate. What do you think? Can a well connected medium tell you about your previous lives?

Following a long discussion we concluded with a final exercise similar to the one we did on Monday where we had to think of a person in the room we wanted to receive a message for. Again I asked for a message for the person opposite me (it’s just easier to keep them in view and hold a straight line to their energy). I made a decision to trust whatever came and to say it as I got it and not try to water it down or alter it in any way.

After a few minutes I heard the song ‘white lines (don’t do it)’ by Grandmaster Melle Mel, and for a moment felt tears prick the backs of my eyes. Then a clear thought came that although the white lines had caused a great deal of sadness it was coming to an end.

The person who the message was for didn’t know the song and couldn’t make sense of the white lines. Greg thought it could refer to cocaine as that’s what the song is about, but it still didn’t make sense to the recipient. She did however say there was some sadness in her life that she hoped would be coming to an end soon.

I felt proud of myself, not necessarily for the content of the message, but because I’d had the courage to deliver it as I got it.

So, in case you’ve forgotten the question I asked earlier. Do you think it’s possible for someone else to give a past life reading or can it only be the person concerned who can be regressed? Please keep your comments coming I’m very grateful and I’m learning loads.


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Session 11 – Trance, trance and more guides

February 11th 2013 (Monday)

I’ll cut to the chase. No preamble about Tim’s lateness or my mental note to drive next week.

Candles, crystals and charaks

Candles, crystals and chakras

Zoe was back, and she facilitated the circle. She’d laid out a large purple cloth on which were candles, crystals and seven pieces of paper representing the chakras. After the opening prayer she explained that we would be contacting our guides though meditation and later doing some work with photographs.

The instruction was to meditate for fifteen minutes with the intention of contacting our guides. She explained for Tim’s sake how to open up the chakras, and, to the sound of quiet music we invited our guides to draw near.

I got nothing. No one even came close. No little old lady, no Native American, no ancient African warrior. Not a bean, nil, zero, zilch. Other people got stuff. Either discovered new guides or reconnected with their established ones. Even Tim got someone who he thought could be a guide.

In the following meditation she asked us to think about someone in the group we would like to get a message for, and also to be aware that our guides often speak to us through an intermediary. At that instant my phone which I’d put on silent began to vibrate. I made a mental note to check who it was when the meditation finished. She also asked us to open our eyes when we got something.

I set the intention to get a message for Sam who was sitting opposite me. Well, I must have been there for ten whole minutes getting absolutely nothing, when my mind began drifting to the magenta card I’d got earlier, and I was reflecting on how often I pull it, or it fell out the pack at me. Then the name Petra popped into my head and I focused on it for a while, happy that at least that something had come that had nothing to do with me, as I don’t know a Petra. I went back to focusing on the magenta card and had a vague sense of something to do sleeplessness, but no more guidance than that.

I was still waiting for something profound to happen when Zoe asked me to open my eyes, and I realised that everyone else had already opened theirs. I felt like the dunce in the class. When it came to feedback time she skipped over me as we went round the circle. People got amazing messages for each other. Incidentally no-one got a message for me. She came back to me last.

‘Well, I didn’t really get much.’ I hesitated.

‘I guessed as much as you didn’t open your eyes. That’s why I left you till last,’ she admitted, deepening my sense of uselessness.

‘Did you get anything at all?’

‘I got the name Petra.’ I said, hoping someone would leap up and say, ‘I can take that,’ and tell some fantastic story associated with the name. But everyone just looked at me blankly.

‘I also kept getting a lot of magenta,’ I said, and scanned the group for a take up. Again nothing. I didn’t add that what I was actually seeing wasn’t diffused magenta like some others have described, but specifically the card from the pack which also has the words ‘connect to you deepest inner knowing’ written on it.

I was losing confidence rapidly by now and muttered something about lack of sleep’. Zoe was about to move on when from out of nowhere I turned to Sam and said, ‘Have you been having difficulty sleeping?’

BINGO!

‘I have terrible trouble sleeping,’ he said. ‘Either I can’t get to sleep or I wake up in the early hours of the morning and can’t go back to sleep.’

‘What do you do when that happens?’ I asked, like I was some expert on insomnia.

‘Make a drink of coffee,’ he answered to horrified gasps, ‘or I read a book or watch a bit of tele.’

Once we got past the general advice from everyone about how bad coffee is if you want to sleep, I heard myself telling him that what spirit wants him to do is meditate. That the reason he can’t sleep is because he needs to go and connect with his inner guidance, his inner knowing.’

‘I’m terrible at meditating,’ he protested.

‘How about if you re-phrase that and say ‘I’m improving my meditating skills every day?’ I asked, recognising that he was perpetuating an unhelpful view of himself and therefore keeping himself there.

‘But I can’t do anymore than about five minutes when I’m on my own,’ he insisgted.

‘Well, that’s a start. If the next time you do six minutes you have improved. Congratulate yourself and affirm that you’re improving all the time.’

‘See, you did get something after all.’ Mary said, and I relaxed a little.

As Zoe began to explain about how to read from photographs I sat back and marvelled at the way spirit works. I had all but convinced myself that what I was picking up was useless bits of information and when it hadn’t made sense I was prepared to discard it. I guess that’s how some mediums must feel when they ask a sitter if something makes sense and they say ‘no’.

The photo reading exercise was of a real live couple. We were initially given no more than that. The photo was passed around and we were asked to ‘tune in’ and using all our senses try to pick up anything we could from the picture about the two people.

Some people picked up that the man was ill, which Mary confirmed. Others elaborated on the extent of his illness and made suggestions on how long he had to live, still others talked about the lack of closeness between the two, some talked about their characters and the way if affects their relationship. Tim is a natural at this, and seems to have the confidence to say what he’s picking up, usually prefixed with ‘I’m new to all this…’

After about six people had had a go, Mary (who was acting as a participant as Zoe was running the circle) asked us to think about the future for the woman.

I was last but one to get the photo. As soon as I held it I got a strong pulsing pain in the front of my head. My throat became very tight and tickly and I had to reach for a glass of water to soothe the coughs that were bubbling up.

‘Does this woman suffer from headaches?’ I asked.

‘She used to suffer from terrible migraines.’ Mary answered, ‘but not any more.’

I knew intuitively that the pain in my head wasn’t associated with the past. It was definitely located in the future as that’s what Mary had asked us to think about.

‘I think when the man dies her migraines will return, but they won’t be as prolonged as previously. She will get them under control reasonably quickly, but they will be very intense for a while.’

My attention moved to my throat, and I knew that there was creativity she’s been suppressing that will find an outlet when the man dies. I already knew she was a painter from information that came out earlier, but the word writer came into my head. I wanted to say she will write, but I wondered weather I was thinking that because I’m a writer, so I asked instead, ‘Is there something she wants to do creatively that she’s not doing now?’

‘Well, she wants to try her hand at singing,’ Mary said.

‘That’s it,’ I said eagerly, relieved that I’d got something else right.

‘But what she really wants to do is to write,’ she added.

I couldn’t believe it. Why didn’t I go with what I got? Why do I keep censoring it? I shared my original thought and asked the question out loud.

‘Why do I censor?’

‘Because you don’t trust it yet,’ Zoe suggested, ‘at the moment you still think its you, and nobody wants to make a fool of themselves. But that’s what the circle is here for. To help you build your confidence. It will come with practice.’

We closed with another trance demonstration from Zoe. Again the altered breathing, the turkey neck movements and the same male voice as last time, slow, measured, precise. He thanked us again for agreeing to help in this way and warned us about the dangers of going off too quickly before our skills are properly developed. He said there is much healing that we can do but that humility and patience are vital qualities to enable us to serve safely.

And the person who had called me during the meditation was… my husband.


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Session 9 – Trance

February 4th 2013 (Monday)

Tim was on time to pick me up, and very up-beat. He’d had several big wins in the week, (something to do with wood burning stoves and mirrors) one of them only this morning. He was effervescence itself.

A few were there before us, and we went straight to the room and tried to relocate our seats from last week. Someone new was sitting in mine. I simply took the one next to it that was closest to the radiator.

By the time we were all seated there were ten of us including Mary, the biggest I’ve ever known it. Mary began with a little wrist slapping reminder to us to send in the pieces we wrote last week (I could have sworn I’d emailed it to her, but with hindsight I’d only posted it on the blog). Apparently only one person sent it in.

Anyway, after a very brief opening prayer Mary introduced Zoe who was sitting next to me on my right, and said she was going to do some trance work for us, and then get us to practice giving messages. WELL!! My jaw dropped open like an uncontrolled wooden puppet’s. Not TRANCE. See session 8. I only posted the blog last night about the messages I’d got about me doing trance work – now this. As I no longer believe in coincidences I smiled and accepted that whatever form my trance comes in I’ll not resist it.

We began with a fifteen minute meditation where the objective was to become as relaxed as possible because, as Zoe explained, it was in a very relaxed state that spirit finds it easiest to work with us, and for trance work it is absolutely vital.

‘Just observe anything that comes to you in the meditation, but don’t try to find anything. The main purpose of this is just to relax.’

Mary played music which was more foot tapping than deep relaxation, but surprisingly my body settled quite quickly. After a few minutes I saw a young dancer, about late twenties in flowing red and blue costume dancing on a stage. It was a cross between belly dance and modern contemporary, with lots of spins and turns. She was full of energy and lost in the music. The name Sarah Stephenson popped into my head.

After a while a line of male Russian looking dancers entered the stage, dancing behind her from left to right. They wore dark colours. She was a bright flower against their earthy backdrop.

The scene changed after a while to a snow scape where four Huskies pulled a sledge into the driving snow. I tried to see who was in the sledge but couldn’t. The only clue I had was the name Kevin Bracebridge. After that, and just before Mary called us all back into the room, the most amazing warm and loving feeling descend on me. I wanted to stay with it, could have happily spent the whole session with this beautiful feeling.

‘Zoe’s now going to do a demonstration of trance for us,’ Mary said enthusiastically looking across at a very nervous looking Zoe. ‘Is that OK Zoe?’ Zoe shuffled in her seat and began to apologise to the group that she gets very nervous speaking on her own.

‘When my guide comes in he usually speaks with much more confidence and authority than me. That’s why I know it isn’t me, because I could never be as confident as him. I hope he’s not going to let me down today,’ she laughed nervously.

‘Your guide let you down! I can’t believe you just said that.’ Mary chided in mock astonishment.

Zoe glanced at the clock.

‘Shall I begin now?’

‘Yes please,’ most of us chirped eagerly.

‘Just give me a moment to relax,’ she said, and we all bowed our heads and closed our eyes.

Within a couple of minutes Zoe’s breathing changed, became deep and loud, like someone in very deep sleep on the verge of, but not quite snoring. I peeked a look to see what was happening. Her neck was going in and out like a turkey’s, and her lips made slight involuntary movements. When she spoke it was in the deep voice of a man, in measured carefully chosen words that addressed us as a group.

‘Thank you for allowing me to address your group,’ the voice said, ‘each of you is here for a reason. You have all agreed to help with healing the world. Your help is very much appreciated.’

He didn’t say who he was and I can’t remember word for word everything, but the gist of it was that spirit needed physical bodies to work through to help bring healing and peace to the world, and that they needed all our different and varied skills and talents. Zoe’s guide wanted to let us know that as soon as we are ready they’re ready to work with us. I think there was more, but I was so fascinated looking at the altered facial features of Zoe that I didn’t take it all in.

I’ve only seen this happen once before. In 2007 I did an ascension course at the School of the Living Light in Glastonbury, and Lita de Alberdi who facilitates the course channelled her guide Ortan. With her only her voice changed, not her face.

I was sorry when Zoe came to an end because I was so mesmerized. The question, ‘will I look and sound like this when I do trance work?’ kept going round in my head. Although fascinating, I can see how some people could find it a bit scary; and again I asked myself the question, ‘why me?’

A drink of water and a few deep breaths later and Zoe was fully back to being herself, and asked if we wanted to do some practical exercises on how to get and give messages. There was a resounding ‘yes.’

We began with seeing colour. We had to think of a flower, when we all had one we had to say who in the room the flower was for (choose someone we wanted to give the flower to). I was first, my flower was a daffodil, and I was giving it to Sheri who was opposite me.

‘Yellow’s an uplifting colour,’ said Zoe. ‘Does that make sense to you Sheri?’

It did, and Zoe went on to ask me what else daffodils reminded me of. I said ‘spring, they’re spring flowers.’

‘Which month do you associate with spring?’

‘February,’ I said, thinking of the vase of daffodils on my kitchen table.

‘Can you take February?’ she asked Sheri, anything important for you in February?’

‘I have three birthdays in February,’ confirmed Sheri.

‘Can you see how you can use the symbolism of colours to give messages?’

I nodded.

‘Obviously there’s a lot more you could find out once you get going but there’re a lot of you to get through.’

She moved to the next person who also had a daffodil, but her spring was March, and her daffodil was tinged with orange and had a different meaning for the person it was given to. Another daffodil also had yet another meaning for someone else. Zoe said it was a demonstration of how the same symbol can be used in different ways, and it was a lesson in how important it is to listen to your intuition and to your guide.

My message (given to me by someone else) was based on violet pansies. It  was that I was getting very deep into this work. Not only did the message make sense but so did the name of the flower. When Zoe said violet was also a name, ‘can anyone take violet?’ I said I could take pansy. I have a sister called Pansy whom I owe a phone call.

We then went on to do similar things with names, philosophy and messages. The names I got made sense for the person I got them for, as did the messages.

For the philosophy we were each given a different word and asked to concentrate for a few minutes to see if we got any words to share. Mine was peace. Others got love, happiness, life, etc, and we all got very useful philosophies to share with each other.

Some of the links made with names were amazing, and I’m convinced that as a group we are bonding. Even though we’re not a closed group, there are enough of us as a core each week to hold the group’s energy together.

I stayed behind to have a chat with Zoe about what training is needed to do trance work. ‘Meditation, and keep coming to circle,’ she said.

‘Is that all?’ I was more than a little relieved that no extra work would be involved.

‘Yes, the more relaxed and open you become the easier it will make it for spirit to connect with you and come through you.’

It would appear that nothing is that difficult when working with spirit. Seems all that’s needed is for us to relax and get out of the way. That’s fine by me.

 


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Three men, four handbags and a lot of fish

This is a dream I had the night after a psychic development circle.

BBArielFishOistins251111PICT0776As soon as I was asleep I found myself back in Greg’s (circle leader) advanced class. After about twenty minutes of a two hour session I left to find a toilet and a cup of tea, and was gone for ages. I bumped into lots of people who were also trying to find the toilet.

Then I was at one of my brother’s house, still looking for a toilet. One of the toilets in his house was broken, and he’d converted the en suite into storage cupboards.

Then I was with three young men sitting at one of those picnic tables outside a pub. The waitress was pouring one of the young me a cup of tea in a long white mug, clear tea, like green tea. He was trying to balance it in the hollow in his shoulder blades and I was trying to help him not spill it. This guy’s name was Jason, and I was commenting on the fact that the name ‘Jason has now come of age. (Once upon a time, after the Jason and the Argonauts film was released, there were a lot of boys being called Jason – now they’re grown men).

He managed to straighten up without spilling it and the waitress poured me a drink in a flatter, wider mouth cup. It was dark with what looked like tea leaves floating in it. I went to take a sip but a sixth sense said look closer. I got my glasses and looked into the cup to see lots of little dark fishes swimming around. Needless to say I didn’t drink the tea.

As the waitress went to leave in her car I rescued a handbag from being run over. It was almost identical to mine (quite a distinctive bag with red, black, white and beige squares and circles. I found three other similar bags and lined them all up on a large table inside the pub in what looked like a family room. I drew the three guys’ attention to this remarkable (to me) phenomenon, but oddly enough they didn’t seem interested.

I then noticed a friend of mine, stripped naked to the waist, looking after a baby and had just bend over to pick something up from the floor. She’d lost a lot of weight.

It occurred to me that there was only thirty minutes left of Greg’s session, and I decided to go back. My mother was outside the door, very worried that he may not let me back in. I asked her ‘what’s the worse that could happen – he could say no, you can’t come back.’ She continued to look worried until I opened the door and spoke to Greg.

He was standing just behind the door and everyone else (about ten people) was standing up in a circle.

He said, ‘come in, but be aware that the energy in here is very high, very intense.’

As I stepped into the room I woke me up, feeling as if I’d been on my feet all night.

I looked up the symbolism of fish in dreams as it’s the easiest part of the dream to try and decipher.

Fish =

To see fish swimming in your dream signifies insights from your unconscious mind. Thus to catch a fish, represents insights which have been brought to the surface. Alternatively, a fish swimming in your dream may symbolize conception. Some women dream of swimming fish when they get pregnant. The fish is also an ancient symbol of Christianity and Christian beliefs. Consider the common phrases “like a cold fish”, “fish out of water” or something that is “fishy” about a situation. It may also imply a slippery or elusive situation. Perhaps your dream could be telling you that “there are plenty of other fish in the sea”, with regards to some relationship issue.

http://www.dreammoods.com/dreamthemes/animals.htm

I see the connection with the insights, given the type of work I was doing; and am now trying to come to terms with the fact that I will be doing trance work.

If you have another take on any of this at all I’d be happy to hear it.

Do you do trance work? If you do, how did you get into it? I’d really like to link with others doing this work.


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Session 7 – What happens when we die?

January 29th 2013 (Monday)

It was twelve fifty-five and I was getting jittery. Tim hadn’t arrived to pick me up and although Oak House is only a few minutes away I don’t like being late. I think there’s benefit in being where I need to be early. It allows my energy to settle, leave the world out there, and enter into whatever the activity is in a calm and relaxed state.

I was making my way to my own car when he arrived, flustered with the latest drama I his life. We all have them, the things that keep us awake at night (though in truth I haven’t had a sleepless night in a long time), and Tim has his fair share. Within the few minutes it took to Oak House I got the skeleton of the issue causing him such chagrin, and thanked God it was a circle day. Circle’s a great place to bring all the stresses of the day, or week or month, depending on how often you sit.

We were back to full strength as the snow’s now melted. Five regulars, one new and one returnee. We had enough men to have a man-woman-man yin and yang seating arrangement. And today Mary told us to try and sit in the same seats.

‘Why?’ I was curious. I’ve seen it as one of the defining differences between this and the Thursday group.

‘Because people like it,’ was unsatisfactory to me but, ‘because it helps to build the energy,’ was a little more plausible. I’m happy to hang out beside the radiator and bagged me that seat.

During the ‘how was your week?’ at the beginning of the meeting Mary asked me to tell the group about my blog as not everyone was aware. She’d had a look and was impressed. The others were quite keen to see how they’ve been represented, and who knows, may become followers or even contributors.

Mary then told us about a friend whose husband’s an alcoholic and nearing the end of his life. She asked us to think about what it means when we die and, armed with pen, paper and some creative music we set out to channel words that could bring solace to grieving relatives. Mine came as the poem below, but what I was most astonished by was the nature of the discussion which followed our sharing of our very diverse and excellent pieces.

What happens when we die?

When we die we return to love

Some go freely, some need a shove

We did what we came to do

It’s another chance to start anew

When we die we return to love

Lay down the heavy boxing gloves

Step out the ring to make the way

For new souls to have their say

When we die we return to love

To watch and care for from above

The ones who grieve the space we left

Till we meet again in sweet peace and rest

© Predencia Dixon 2013

Less than an hour earlier I’d finally been able to begin the stories for Love is Not a Reward. Although I knew from the sketches that one of the characters was in psychiatric care I didn’t know what for. As I wrote it unfolded that he’s addicted to ganga.

‘Interesting,’ I’d thought as I sat on the loo just prior to the session, ‘I didn’t know that’s who you are or that this is the story you want me to tell.’

Now here we were discussing addiction, addictive personalities, how it affects those around them and how it can finally claim some of them. Each time something that was similar to my character came up my jaw dropped a little further, surprising it wasn’t scraping on the carpet. I was being given confirmation that this was the right line to pursue with this story. And there was more.

After the writing and discussion we did a healing circle. When I was the healer with one of the group, Peter, the name of another character from the story came into my head and would not go away. It felt like there was a strong connection between this fictitious character and Peter. During feedback I asked him if the name Holly meant anything to him. He said his sister’s dog’s name is Molly, and he often gets messages via animals. There’s that animal connection again.

‘And what about blue, does that mean anything to you?’ I asked.

‘I have a condition that causes my body to overheat. Blue is a cooling colour, I think I need to make more effort to stay cool.’

I didn’t tell him that my character’s name is Holly Blue, the name of a species of butterflies.