Writing Creatively With Spirit

A journey of psychic discovery


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Deja vu

Friday 29th November 2013

Trying to get over the shock

Trying to get over the shock

I began writing this blog because of a strange phenomenon that happened after I wrote my 2nd novel Betrayed. Someone came into my life and shared experiences that were almost and sometimes actually identical to those of one of the main characters in the novel.

I was told by several people that the book was probably channelled, and began a process of psychic development to see whether this would influence my writing.

Yesterday I sat to edit a short story I wrote in March and was gobsmacked when I realised that the first few pages were played out by a similar character (older and in another location) almost word-for-word on the last day of June this year. It was freaky.

I had to call a friend who knew of the June affair and tell her. I read to her some of what was written in March, long before there was any indication that the issues in June could have been foreseen.

This is my 4th book of fiction, and although the 2nd one was the most striking, in each one some things that I’ve written about actually happen in real life after I’ve written about them. Does any other writer have this? I’d be really keen to hear from you if you have.

Beach at Hastings by the boardwalk

Beach at Hastings by the boardwalk

On another note. I found an idyllic spot to work from yesterday.

This is the beach at Hastings, by the boardwalk. Not a bad place to do some reading, formulate some ideas and hold a meeting I’m sure you’ll agree.

Beach at sunset

Beach at sunset

And I stayed till it got dark, just so I could appreciate the sunset.

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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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Messages from Butterflies

Tuesday 30th July 2013

On Sunday I worked in my lounge which has a beautiful stained glass window. Throughout the whole day a white (well kind of cream really) butterfly kept my company. Well, maybe ‘kept my company’ is a little misleading; it would be more accurate to say we shared the same space. We didn’t communicate with each other. The butterfly flapped its wings manically against the window, as if trying to push through the glass, for longs periods of time, and then was still for equal lengths of time. It carried on like this all day making no attempt to leave the room or the corner it was in, even though the door was open.

On Monday morning when I did my cards a single one fell out – the butterfly.

When I went into the lounge the butterfly from the day before was still there, sitting on the window ledge. I vacuumed around it but it didn’t move.

There were lots of white butterflies in the garden, and have been there for some days, I asked it if it didn’t want to go out and join its friends, but it didn’t move or acknowledge me.

My son came to visit and I told him the saga of the previous day and the morning. He was fascinated, but could offer no explanation.

As I drove off on the hot summer day with my windows down to attend a friend’s funeral, I realised there was a white (cream) butterfly flying around in the car. It went into one of the spare pair of my shoes that was on the floor of the passenger side.

As I pulled over to call my son to tell him the butterfly flew out of the window.

Animal Spirit Guides Stephen D Farmer, PH.D.

Animal Spirit Guides
Stephen D Farmer, PH.D.

Today the one in the lounge is still there, so I looked up the meaning of butterfly again. I knew they meant big changes but wondered if there was something else I was missing.

Here’s what Stephen Farmer’s book  Animal Spirit Guides says:

If BUTTERFLY shows up it means:

  • Lighten up and stop taking everything so seriously.
  • Get ready for a big change, one where an old habit, way of thinking, or lifestyle is going out, and a new way of being is emerging.
  • It’s time to make the changes you’ve been considering.
  • In spite of the challenges, you’ll get through this transition, and as always, you know that ‘this too shall pass.’
  • Express yourself by wearing more colourful clothing.

I read the meanings to a friend and joked about the fact that I was wearing cream and black – hardly the most colourful of clothes. She suggested that I should speak to the butterfly and ask it what message(s) it had for me.

Oh yes, I became Mrs Doolittle. I spoke to the butterfly as it sat motionless on the window, as it had done for hours.

‘What’s with all the flapping and all the hanging around?’ I asked casually.

As if in answer it began flapping around, not as frenetically as on Sunday, but definitely flapping. When it opened its wings I noticed the black markings on the outside. It wasn’t just cream, it was black and cream. We matched! Not all butterflies are colourful. Then it was still again. Then another little flap, and a longer spell of stillness.

Then I swear it said to me, ‘I was a pupa before I became a butterfly, learn to be still. At the moment you need more stillness than activity. Be still.’

Have I officially flipped???


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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 36 – Away with the fairies

June 27th 2013 (Thursday)

Tonight’s meditation was just pure fun. Cain took the group again, although Greg joined us, freshly baked from his holiday.

Rainbow

Rainbow

Cain told us he was going to take us on a meditation to connect with the fairy world, and to become pure light energy like them.

We began, the two men and five women, with a ball of light coming up from the earth through our bodies and then surrounding us as we walked down a leafy country lane in the bright sunshine.

When we came to a huge wall of light we went through it.

‘As you step through the wall of light you will feel your body becoming a pure ball of light. Feel yourself lifting up high above a meadow of wild flowers. What can you see?’ He asked.

‘Now focus on reducing your size, feel yourself getting smaller and smaller until the flowers are much bigger than you,’ Cain instructed us.

‘When you’re as small as you can get, look out for tiny elementals approaching you. I’m going to leave you here with them in the meadow for a while.’

As we began the meditation I felt very light, and had no difficulty floating up through the air after stepping through the wall of light.

I immediately focused of two majestic magenta peonies and headed straight for them. On the way, as I got smaller and smaller, a tiny flying elemental dressed in green leggings with dragonfly wings approached me.

She took me to play in the long grasses, bending them over and using them as slides. After a while she took me to a place under the cover of some leaves where a row of tiny pink hammocks lay empty.

‘Hop up here,’ she encouraged me from her hammock, ‘there’s something you need to find in here.’

Try as I might I could not raise myself high enough to get into the hammock, and after a while gave up.

She took me instead to the end of a rainbow where the rain fell in rainbow colours.We pretended it was a pool, diving and somersaulting through the drops. We seemed to be there for ages till Cain called us back into the room, through the wall of light again.

I was fascinated by the range of things experienced by the others in the group (as usual) and how different they were from mine. Some people saw guides; one joined a whole group of elementals in their work of repairing the damaged flowers and plants, and another went flying at great speed.

Cain said it was interesting that the hammocks I couldn’t reach were pink, because pink is a higher vibration to the rainbow colours.

We didn’t do any great analysis of the experiences, but I think mine was about making more time for fun.

I wonder what was in the pink hammocks that I needed to know, and whether I’ll get another chance soon to find out.


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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.