HOW DO I KNOW ANGELS ARE REAL? PART FOUR.
(continued from part 3)
I changed jobs and began working as a junior for a stockbroker. In the morning I would walk to the Stock Exchange to collect the contract notes for the day. The energy of the trading floor fascinated me. Yelling, gesticulating, frantic chalking and penciling, the floor covered in scraps of paper. (Not a computer screen in sight!) Millions of dollars changing hands. Red faces and sweat dampened Pelaco shirts. It was almost pre-orgasmic.
One particular morning, after collecting my bundle, I decided to call in on a friend who manned the reception desk of a well-known travel company. The city street was strangely quiet. It actually seemed a little spooky. As I walked up the plush stairs I heard a television! How odd! REALLY odd in 1969. Turning the corner, there was Ann and a couple of staff clustered and focusing. On the TV was a fuzzy black and white image and the words..."one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind". A human foot had stepped onto the moon! We watched in complete silence. Civilisation had just shifted gears.
The implications of this mighty adventure stayed with me. It percolated slowly. That night I dreamed I was standing on the Moon watching the Earth rise. I awoke with a start, catching my breath. So vivd! Could I have astral travelled there? I hoped I had.
My perspective had changed forever. That beautiful blue ball balancing in space. That was my fragile home! And the Earth was definitely not flat!
( The Flat Earth Society still exists today...scary huh!)
The Earth looked...exquisite...I could not find words. What a mystery...who are we strange creatures running amok in such ignorant arrogance? Awed, sad, elated, frightened, angry, inspired, motivated. So many feelings!
And then, The Presence really took the wheel! An 'inspiration', for want of a better description, came into my awareness....
"To stand in the place of an observer as one on the bank of a river...not being swept up in the tides and eddys....watching.... allowing the currents to be what they will...enjoying the beauty and drama yet maintaining your place...the planet is like a grain of sand in that river..."
Whoa! Whoa! on two counts. The content of the 'inspiration', and, the fact that I 'heard' it. Oh man! Not hearing voices now am I!
Something was changing inside me somewhere. There was an urge to....I couldn't name it...an urge to...FIND something....so I went looking. I went looking in some very beautiful, and some very dodgy places!
(continued in Part Five)
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
HOW DO I KNOW ANGELS ARE REAL? Part Three.
Imagine the prince in Sleeping Beauty, chopping his way through the hedge of thorns around the castle where Beauty slept, making a way where there was no way. I had the notion that some being or power had now begun a similar process, subtly guiding me along the clearest part of a thorny trail. Things began to happen. There were curious synchronicities.
An acquaintance signed me up for a mail order course with A.M.O.R.C., (a Rosicrucian organisation), as a joke! Little did he know it would be a spark that would ignite an explosion of excitement, the drop that created insatiable thirst.
I practised all the exercises. I visualised. I meditated. I considered my place in the Universal scheme of things. I felt alive. While I felt I could not share these experiences with others in my life, I never felt alone. The Presence was always there. Like a constant, familiar, wholly supportive and unconditional friend. I was aware of encouragement.
At the same time the folk scene was peaking. I would take my battered three quarter sized guitar along to the local folkie hangout and sit diaphanously on the small stage shyly singing wrist-slashing and he-done-me-wrong songs. It was all a bit intense!
I connected with a couple of local performing luminaries, one of whom introduced me to the writings of Krishnamurti, the other to my first broken heart. Both, to the healing power of poetry and music. I wrote my first songs.
Krishnamurti was the Eckhart Tolle of the time. He wrote of unconditioned awareness and being conscious of 'what is' here now. No mention of angels, auras or astrology. But it had not always been that way for him.
Krishnamurti's exceptionally pure aura been 'spotted' on a beach in India by the Theosophical clairvoyant C.W. Leadbeater, who then tutored him in the mystical arts and sciences. Plenty of angels, ascended masters, astral travel and crazy kundalini experiences for him!
On Balmoral Beach in Sydney there is a strange Grecian style building which was known as The Star Amphitheatre. It was purpose built as a viewing platform to experience the return of the Messiah, walking on water through Sydney Heads.
That Messiah was supposed to be the young Krishnamurti!
The young lad grew up and out of his humble Indian beginnings. He was well-travelled and educated. He was undoubtedly spiritual!
He stood before his benefactors and basically told them they were very silly and that he would dedicate his teachings to absolute psychological freedom from man-made monstrosities of belief and delusion. To self-awareness and acceptance of 'what is' as a way to peace.
I loved his teachings so much. They helped me focus. But he did not mention The Presence.
At 16 I moved in to a share house in Manly. Yes we were alternative, but we all worked. The darling old Manly Ferry would slosh me from hippiedom across to Circular Quay where I would teeter-totter in my high heels and mini-skirt up to the Insurance company where I worked.
One lunch time in 1969 I came upon a building with a strange entrance leading to a basement bookshop. Exotic scents drew me carefully down the old stairs into dimly lit, beautifully wood panelled rooms. On one side was a counter with an elderly woman smiling like a Cheshire cat..not kidding. The other part was a library. Think Harry Potter meets Buffy!
I was having all kinds of physical sensations. Tingling, pressure, buzzing, almost whispering. Time seemed to behave like a carnival mirror, warping and distorting. The Presence was SO present! I imagined I was hearing 'Yes! Yes!'....yes to what I wasn't sure.
Adyar Bookshop was (and still is) the Theosophical Society Book outlet. Along side it lay the meeting rooms of the T.S. In times gone by, C.W. Leadbeater had walked over the very spot where I stood. Perhaps even Krishnamurti.
Then I discovered that Krishnamurti was to visit Australia and speak at the Sydney Town Hall!
One of my housemates and I got up early one Sunday. I made sure my pet white rat was fed and happy before we travelled into the city. We were both so high! No drugs. No obvious reason. I was in my hippie clobber, floating along. Rod sporting his looong beard and hair to match, as dark as the horn-rimmed glasses he wore. We arrived at the town-hall.
Entering was like pushing into a marshmallow! I now know that what I was experiencing was energy. A huge 'aura' or energy field seemed to surround the building. A very disconcerting sensation. I was definitely in an altered state of consciousness by the time Krishnamurti came out on to the platform.
I nearly cried. An absolutely beautiful, fragile old man gently sat and gazed at the flowers before him. He looked as though he was made from tan alabaster. Was this energy connected to him? I don't know. It was very similar energy to The Presence, but amplified a dozen, no, a hundred times! Thick silence buzzed then lay over the huge crowd which was a sea of white haired folks, over 70 I would guess. A few hippies were dotted around like colourful katherine wheels. Some white hairs approached the platform and bowed low with prayerful hands. Krishnamurti frowned and scolded them saying not to bow down before anyone.
The place silently hummed and I barely remember anything after that.
Something shifted in my energy that day. An infinitesimal increment of awareness, but an increment no less.
The Presence seemed so much more profound and not quite so familiar anymore. Perhaps like getting to know a new and unexpected aspect of someone you thought you knew completely. Surprising and a little awkward.
And there were to be more surprises....
(continued in part four)
An acquaintance signed me up for a mail order course with A.M.O.R.C., (a Rosicrucian organisation), as a joke! Little did he know it would be a spark that would ignite an explosion of excitement, the drop that created insatiable thirst.
I practised all the exercises. I visualised. I meditated. I considered my place in the Universal scheme of things. I felt alive. While I felt I could not share these experiences with others in my life, I never felt alone. The Presence was always there. Like a constant, familiar, wholly supportive and unconditional friend. I was aware of encouragement.
At the same time the folk scene was peaking. I would take my battered three quarter sized guitar along to the local folkie hangout and sit diaphanously on the small stage shyly singing wrist-slashing and he-done-me-wrong songs. It was all a bit intense!
I connected with a couple of local performing luminaries, one of whom introduced me to the writings of Krishnamurti, the other to my first broken heart. Both, to the healing power of poetry and music. I wrote my first songs.
Krishnamurti was the Eckhart Tolle of the time. He wrote of unconditioned awareness and being conscious of 'what is' here now. No mention of angels, auras or astrology. But it had not always been that way for him.
Krishnamurti's exceptionally pure aura been 'spotted' on a beach in India by the Theosophical clairvoyant C.W. Leadbeater, who then tutored him in the mystical arts and sciences. Plenty of angels, ascended masters, astral travel and crazy kundalini experiences for him!
On Balmoral Beach in Sydney there is a strange Grecian style building which was known as The Star Amphitheatre. It was purpose built as a viewing platform to experience the return of the Messiah, walking on water through Sydney Heads.
That Messiah was supposed to be the young Krishnamurti!
The young lad grew up and out of his humble Indian beginnings. He was well-travelled and educated. He was undoubtedly spiritual!
He stood before his benefactors and basically told them they were very silly and that he would dedicate his teachings to absolute psychological freedom from man-made monstrosities of belief and delusion. To self-awareness and acceptance of 'what is' as a way to peace.
I loved his teachings so much. They helped me focus. But he did not mention The Presence.
At 16 I moved in to a share house in Manly. Yes we were alternative, but we all worked. The darling old Manly Ferry would slosh me from hippiedom across to Circular Quay where I would teeter-totter in my high heels and mini-skirt up to the Insurance company where I worked.
One lunch time in 1969 I came upon a building with a strange entrance leading to a basement bookshop. Exotic scents drew me carefully down the old stairs into dimly lit, beautifully wood panelled rooms. On one side was a counter with an elderly woman smiling like a Cheshire cat..not kidding. The other part was a library. Think Harry Potter meets Buffy!
I was having all kinds of physical sensations. Tingling, pressure, buzzing, almost whispering. Time seemed to behave like a carnival mirror, warping and distorting. The Presence was SO present! I imagined I was hearing 'Yes! Yes!'....yes to what I wasn't sure.
Adyar Bookshop was (and still is) the Theosophical Society Book outlet. Along side it lay the meeting rooms of the T.S. In times gone by, C.W. Leadbeater had walked over the very spot where I stood. Perhaps even Krishnamurti.
Then I discovered that Krishnamurti was to visit Australia and speak at the Sydney Town Hall!
One of my housemates and I got up early one Sunday. I made sure my pet white rat was fed and happy before we travelled into the city. We were both so high! No drugs. No obvious reason. I was in my hippie clobber, floating along. Rod sporting his looong beard and hair to match, as dark as the horn-rimmed glasses he wore. We arrived at the town-hall.
Entering was like pushing into a marshmallow! I now know that what I was experiencing was energy. A huge 'aura' or energy field seemed to surround the building. A very disconcerting sensation. I was definitely in an altered state of consciousness by the time Krishnamurti came out on to the platform.
I nearly cried. An absolutely beautiful, fragile old man gently sat and gazed at the flowers before him. He looked as though he was made from tan alabaster. Was this energy connected to him? I don't know. It was very similar energy to The Presence, but amplified a dozen, no, a hundred times! Thick silence buzzed then lay over the huge crowd which was a sea of white haired folks, over 70 I would guess. A few hippies were dotted around like colourful katherine wheels. Some white hairs approached the platform and bowed low with prayerful hands. Krishnamurti frowned and scolded them saying not to bow down before anyone.
The place silently hummed and I barely remember anything after that.
Something shifted in my energy that day. An infinitesimal increment of awareness, but an increment no less.
The Presence seemed so much more profound and not quite so familiar anymore. Perhaps like getting to know a new and unexpected aspect of someone you thought you knew completely. Surprising and a little awkward.
And there were to be more surprises....
(continued in part four)
Friday, 8 April 2011
HOW DO I KNOW ANGELS ARE REAL? PART TWO
(...continued from part one)
1967 was 'The Summer of Love'. Fences came down and baby-boomers trampled across a dozen sacred boundaries. Something leapt in my belly!
I ended up at a Billy Graham crusade! Standing beside a pimply Christian with a radiant smile. He signed me up for the 'good news' while thousands around me sang and cried and thanked Jesus. I tried from the deepest bones of sincerity to see what they were seeing. Did the emperor really have no clothes? Or was I just the spawn of satan?
Each night I would still recite the prayer, three times. Each night it would be me and The Presence. Each night I would have more questions.
I left school at 15 with a rudimentary education and a passion for art, music and poetry. I had 'counter-culture' written on my forehead...no...blazing like a neon ad!
King's Cross and Taylor Square in Sydney in '68 and '69 were as close to Haight-Ashbury as we were gonna get in the antipodes! A super magnet to whatever was stirring within me. I would bus in and sit in a wine bar or coffee house and write poetry, or hit the local William Blake recitation group or folk club.
As the green and yellow council bus chugged up William Street one momentus day, I noticed a sign. Had it always been there? I really NOTICED it! In fact it caused my stomach to feel like a butterfly net tangled with a thousand wings! It simply said....ASTROLOGY.
It was not the meaning of the word. It was what it represented.
Somehow it blasted open a door to the idea that there are an infinite number of paths up the mountain. As this concept flooded my awareness The Presence became huge around me and I felt as though a seed of destiny had sprouted. There was also a strange chill...a scary kind of excitement...as though I was about to begin an adventure which would rival an assault on the summit of Mt. Everest itself!
(...to be continued in part three)
1967 was 'The Summer of Love'. Fences came down and baby-boomers trampled across a dozen sacred boundaries. Something leapt in my belly!
I ended up at a Billy Graham crusade! Standing beside a pimply Christian with a radiant smile. He signed me up for the 'good news' while thousands around me sang and cried and thanked Jesus. I tried from the deepest bones of sincerity to see what they were seeing. Did the emperor really have no clothes? Or was I just the spawn of satan?
Each night I would still recite the prayer, three times. Each night it would be me and The Presence. Each night I would have more questions.
I left school at 15 with a rudimentary education and a passion for art, music and poetry. I had 'counter-culture' written on my forehead...no...blazing like a neon ad!
King's Cross and Taylor Square in Sydney in '68 and '69 were as close to Haight-Ashbury as we were gonna get in the antipodes! A super magnet to whatever was stirring within me. I would bus in and sit in a wine bar or coffee house and write poetry, or hit the local William Blake recitation group or folk club.
As the green and yellow council bus chugged up William Street one momentus day, I noticed a sign. Had it always been there? I really NOTICED it! In fact it caused my stomach to feel like a butterfly net tangled with a thousand wings! It simply said....ASTROLOGY.
It was not the meaning of the word. It was what it represented.
Somehow it blasted open a door to the idea that there are an infinite number of paths up the mountain. As this concept flooded my awareness The Presence became huge around me and I felt as though a seed of destiny had sprouted. There was also a strange chill...a scary kind of excitement...as though I was about to begin an adventure which would rival an assault on the summit of Mt. Everest itself!
(...to be continued in part three)
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
How do I know angels are real? Part One.
How do I know angels are real?
Well I'm not really sure how I know, but in my experience, they are.
Perhaps it goes back to the small settlement of half a dozen houses perched on a ravine overlooking the Barron Falls in North Queensland. I was three. Dense virgin rainforest pressed against the back fence. A rutted gravel road trundled off on a long trek into the town of Kuranda. It was raw living. It was the late 1950s.
My mother was brilliant, when she was well. However, when the demon of mental illness surfaced, my tiny brother and I roamed about unfettered by pesky adult supervision and adequate clothing. We climbed on the water tank stand and shouted 'Boo!' to all the snakes sunning themselves below, then squealed in delight as they quickly slithered back underneath. Probably a few taipans, a couple of browns...who would know! My brother decided he could fly and launched himself from the top of the high set Queenslander stairs. Oops... Wild brumbys would rumble in on the whiff of the veggie garden. Horses terrified me for years later.
Behind the daily waking up and going to sleep was a constant, deep, green, powerful presence. Always there. Always solid. Always safe. I thought later that it might have been the rainforest. It might have been, yet there was something else.
Cyclones came and went. Dad went off to work in the hydro electric turbines, and came home at odd hours. Mum would disappear to 'hostable' and return a little too enthusiastic. Yet the 'presence' remained. It never came or went.
We moved to Boorowa in midwest New South Wales when I was five. There was a church across the road. A tiny country Church of England. We went a few times. The rector patted my head during communion, but wouldn't give me a biscuit.
I heard the congregation recite 'The Lord's Prayer', and somehow I just 'knew' it. It made me feel good to say it. My child's mind figured that if I say this prayer three times before falling asleep, everything will be okay. The 'Presence' seemed to increase with each word.
This time Mum's suicide attempt included setting fire to the bedroom and filling the small rented house with the smell of burnt kapok. The 'Presence' was like an anchor. No matter how intense the outer drama was, I knew I was safe. There was no thought of 'angels' or 'Divinity'. I still had no idea what the words of the prayer I repeated meant.
Every couple of years Mum would try to leave life again, sometimes quietly, sometimes dramatically. Off she would go for treatment, back she would come to start over. Those times and treatments were not so enlightened as now and she felt she failed all the tests. She died by her own hand when I was thirteen. The family imploded and by fourteen I was living in a boarding school.
The 'Presence' was still there. In spite of my damage, grief and loneliness I felt a constant Love. Now, for the first time, I began to wonder what it was!
(to be continued in my next blog)
Well I'm not really sure how I know, but in my experience, they are.
Perhaps it goes back to the small settlement of half a dozen houses perched on a ravine overlooking the Barron Falls in North Queensland. I was three. Dense virgin rainforest pressed against the back fence. A rutted gravel road trundled off on a long trek into the town of Kuranda. It was raw living. It was the late 1950s.
My mother was brilliant, when she was well. However, when the demon of mental illness surfaced, my tiny brother and I roamed about unfettered by pesky adult supervision and adequate clothing. We climbed on the water tank stand and shouted 'Boo!' to all the snakes sunning themselves below, then squealed in delight as they quickly slithered back underneath. Probably a few taipans, a couple of browns...who would know! My brother decided he could fly and launched himself from the top of the high set Queenslander stairs. Oops... Wild brumbys would rumble in on the whiff of the veggie garden. Horses terrified me for years later.
Behind the daily waking up and going to sleep was a constant, deep, green, powerful presence. Always there. Always solid. Always safe. I thought later that it might have been the rainforest. It might have been, yet there was something else.
Cyclones came and went. Dad went off to work in the hydro electric turbines, and came home at odd hours. Mum would disappear to 'hostable' and return a little too enthusiastic. Yet the 'presence' remained. It never came or went.
We moved to Boorowa in midwest New South Wales when I was five. There was a church across the road. A tiny country Church of England. We went a few times. The rector patted my head during communion, but wouldn't give me a biscuit.
I heard the congregation recite 'The Lord's Prayer', and somehow I just 'knew' it. It made me feel good to say it. My child's mind figured that if I say this prayer three times before falling asleep, everything will be okay. The 'Presence' seemed to increase with each word.
This time Mum's suicide attempt included setting fire to the bedroom and filling the small rented house with the smell of burnt kapok. The 'Presence' was like an anchor. No matter how intense the outer drama was, I knew I was safe. There was no thought of 'angels' or 'Divinity'. I still had no idea what the words of the prayer I repeated meant.
Every couple of years Mum would try to leave life again, sometimes quietly, sometimes dramatically. Off she would go for treatment, back she would come to start over. Those times and treatments were not so enlightened as now and she felt she failed all the tests. She died by her own hand when I was thirteen. The family imploded and by fourteen I was living in a boarding school.
The 'Presence' was still there. In spite of my damage, grief and loneliness I felt a constant Love. Now, for the first time, I began to wonder what it was!
(to be continued in my next blog)
Monday, 4 April 2011
THE BEST DIET IS A MENTAL DIET!
THE BEST DIET IS A MENTAL DIET!
Yes, a MENTAL diet. What thoughts and ideas have you been living on lately? Given the LAW OF ATTRACTION premise that what we are thinking and feeling is creating our reality, those bitter and critical thoughts become less palatable. Out of the 60,000 odd thoughts most people have each day, most are repetitive and almost unconscious, but all are healping to create 'grooves' in our consciousness. I would certainly prefer my grooves to be delightful spring streams rather than sludgy cesspools! We have that choice!
How? Awareness. Awareness of what we are thinking and feeling.
Of course it is healthy to acknowledge thoughts and feelings, no matter what they are, thanks them for 'sharing', and release them into 'the light', or the earth or even ask angels to carry them away. Then,you can choose a positive 'homing thought' or concept to replace them. Not only does this 'homing thought' act like an anchor and secure point in consciousness, but its feeds positive energy into your system and creates new positive nerve pathways in your brain. Fifty one percent is good! Out of those 60,000 thoughts, if you can choose 30,001 positive, life-affirming thoughts,you are well on your way to better health, attitudes, relationships and happiness. It only gets better after that!
Like any diet, breaking the old habits is the challenging bit. Usually the best way to do this is to work on creating the new habit. Focusing on the new positive thoughts and feelings adds energy to them, and while you are doing that, the old negative habits begin to whither away naturally. As they say, what you focus on increases.
Be gentle and patient with yourself. If you find yourself in the midst of a negative wallow, no recriminations, just let it go and refocus on the homing thought. It is like getting used to eating food without so much salt. It takes a while to get used to, but once you do, you become aware of so much more flavour and texture, and find that the salty taste is no longer pleasant. And your health improves. Gotta be good!
What are you thinking and feeling now? Is it likely to be creating the reality you desire?
If not....chuck out the junk thoughts.....bring on the fresh organic ones!
Yes, a MENTAL diet. What thoughts and ideas have you been living on lately? Given the LAW OF ATTRACTION premise that what we are thinking and feeling is creating our reality, those bitter and critical thoughts become less palatable. Out of the 60,000 odd thoughts most people have each day, most are repetitive and almost unconscious, but all are healping to create 'grooves' in our consciousness. I would certainly prefer my grooves to be delightful spring streams rather than sludgy cesspools! We have that choice!
How? Awareness. Awareness of what we are thinking and feeling.
Of course it is healthy to acknowledge thoughts and feelings, no matter what they are, thanks them for 'sharing', and release them into 'the light', or the earth or even ask angels to carry them away. Then,you can choose a positive 'homing thought' or concept to replace them. Not only does this 'homing thought' act like an anchor and secure point in consciousness, but its feeds positive energy into your system and creates new positive nerve pathways in your brain. Fifty one percent is good! Out of those 60,000 thoughts, if you can choose 30,001 positive, life-affirming thoughts,you are well on your way to better health, attitudes, relationships and happiness. It only gets better after that!
Like any diet, breaking the old habits is the challenging bit. Usually the best way to do this is to work on creating the new habit. Focusing on the new positive thoughts and feelings adds energy to them, and while you are doing that, the old negative habits begin to whither away naturally. As they say, what you focus on increases.
Be gentle and patient with yourself. If you find yourself in the midst of a negative wallow, no recriminations, just let it go and refocus on the homing thought. It is like getting used to eating food without so much salt. It takes a while to get used to, but once you do, you become aware of so much more flavour and texture, and find that the salty taste is no longer pleasant. And your health improves. Gotta be good!
What are you thinking and feeling now? Is it likely to be creating the reality you desire?
If not....chuck out the junk thoughts.....bring on the fresh organic ones!
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