Timey, Wimey, Meaning of Life Stuff?

I recently had an exchange session with another local QHHT practitioner. It was my turn this time. Truth be told, I am not a good subject. I can’t seem to help resisting, obstructing, and otherwise getting in the way. I’m not sure if I just don’t trust others or don’t trust the process, but I find it really difficult to go with it. The resistance shows up externally and internally. At my worst, my body jerks and flails around, at times working up a real sweat, and my face and mouth going through distortions and contortions at any attempt to speak. Even my best, I still feel a marked reluctance to notice, acknowledge and share what I’m perceiving. I have noticed, recently, that the physical stuff had really tapered off. It’s still a problem, but I’ll take what I can get. The good new is, in this session, I got a possible explanation for what has been going on, but I’m not sure if I like the answer or not.

My first life was as a WWI fighter pilot. In the first scene, he is flying his plane to his first post. He is very young, maybe 18, and is excited and idealistic. He flies through some clouds and lands on a grassy airfield. I am really struck at how bright the colors in this scene are: The blue of the sky, the clean, white, crisp clouds and fantastic green grass. He hands the plane over to a mechanic and stands on the field looking proud. I saw this life, mostly, from the outside.

In another scene, (I’m not sure if it was the next one) he seems much older. Maybe only a short time, but he looks much older and has lost all his innocence and is deeply sad. He seems to be standing in roughly the same place as the first scene, but is now staring at a crashed and burning plane. On of his friends, I suppose, but he’s not thinking, just staring. I can’t remember if there was more to this life or not but it seems to stick here.

While I’m looking at this life, I keep getting the image of a white room. It’s completely white and empty and the light seems to be coming from the walls. There is also a strong impression of echoing footsteps. This impressions are confusing and seems to have nothing to do with the life I’m looking at. I do my best to ignore it.

Next, I’m in another life as a sort of a white, dolphin-like, creature, traveling through space in a huge, transparent, ball. The ball is clearly a spaceship of some kind: I can see it from the outside and, while it’s mostly transparent, there are mechanical structural, parts as well. There are many of us inside the ball and there is a sense of joy and happiness. In the next scene we’ve landed and disembarked on a beautiful world that is mostly water, clean and unspoiled.

Things are getting pretty confused in my head by now, I’m getting the White Room and the WWI life at the same time. At first my impressions resolved into a “split screen” with the White Room on the left, and the WWI pilot in the right. In the White Room, there was a rather ordinary looking, guy, sitting in a plain chair, dressed in contemporary clothes, leaning forward and intently watching the WWI pilot. It didn’t feel like he was watching on a screen or through a window, it was like the room was missing the right-hand wall and he could look directly out into the past. Of course, the pilot could not see him, or know he was there.

Once I allowed that scene to be, I realized that I was seeing it from a third vantage point, and I was seeing some kind of white, lumpy, thing in the bottom center of my view. With a little more allowing, I got that the “I” that was watching was the dolphin creature, sitting in a kind of lounge chair. The white lumpy thing in front of my was my lower body. (Frankly, that is still a little weird.) In fact, all three were (are?) me, in different…um…incarnations? Timelines? Realities? Whatever! (You have no idea how confusing it is to try and wrap my head around this experience!)

The story so far: Creature “me” is watching both a “contemporary me” and a “past me,” while “contemporary me” is studying “past me.” Got all that? Time to call in good old Higher Self, as I have no idea what is going on.

You might want to take a deep breath before we go on. We’re about to take a deep dive into Dr Who territory: The creation of the universe, all universes and what existed before anything and everything you can imagine. Ready?

First, Let me say that the most dramatic of the physical actions during sessions were caused by attached entities that have since been removed, but the remaining issues are a necessary adaption for a job that I have taken on that encompasses at least three lifetimes. I haven’t really digested all of this yet, so I’m just going to just present what I know and let you draw your own conclusions. I don’t know where to start, because everything is tangled . I ask you to just follow along, as best you can, and I hope that all the pieces will come together in the end.

As I said, my higher self has always had trouble communicating through my body. It turns out that the problem is that the “control interface” of my physical being is scrambled. During this session, I could clearly see how hard it was for my Higher Self to coordinate my body. I watched it struggling to operate and coordinate the lips, tongue, breath and vocal chords. Speech was difficult, to say the least. “I” know how to operate my physical self, of course, but nobody else does. The kicker is that this was done on purpose: I needed a specialized “system” for difficult conditions.

Now for the timey, wimey, part. The three scenes I was watching are distinct points where space/time was distorted and the timelines were tangled and confused. These points are where artifacts of the base substrate of all realities cause dislocations and discontinuities in the fabric of reality. In a way analogous to the way flaws in the silicon crystal lattice of a semiconductor disrupt signal flow by snagging charges and holes and keep signals from getting through, timelines of different realities “snag” on these flaws and get tangled up, co-mingling time streams and confusing causation. Some time streams get locked into a defect, endlessly spinning, circulating, folding back on itself and intermingling with other trapped streams, unable to progress and evolve. It appears that these flaws have existed since the creation of the universe, but were initially submicroscopic and inconsequential. No longer, now they pose a problem to our plan for all reality. The job I appear to have taken on, along with many others throughout existence, is to help heal these defects.

Those three instances of me were (are?) stuck (or are positioned?) on the three points where one of these artifacts intrudes into my time stream, sort of like the way that woodgrain can show through a coat of paint. How am I supposed to heal this? I have no idea. I suspect that I’m going to need a lot of help, though.

Remember my scrambled “control interface?” Apparently, a complicated and unusual “communication protocol,” if you will, is required for an incarnations to exist in these tangled time-spaces, and still be able to stay in contact and to coordinate with each other through my, universal, higher self.

I don’t really know what to make of all this. If it’s supposed to make me feel really important and special, it doesn’t. What I mostly feel is fear, at the job, if it’s real, and what people will think and say when they read this. I don’t want to be one of those people that live in their own crazy reality. On the other hand, maybe I just have a terrific imagination and should write Dr Who stories.

If you have any comments or contributions, please post them, but notify me as well at aquestioningspirittherapy@gmail.com, because this site doesn’t notify me when people post comments. Take care.

Taking Care of Family

I regularly go to a hypnotherapy MeetUp where I learn new techniques, and every time I do, I ask for volunteers to practice on. I usually get a couple of takers. This is one of those sessions.

The new techniques are for quick inductions, like you see in hypnosis stage shows. But this client really didn’t need anything because she, as long as I have been working with her, she can go under with a single command, but I got my practice in anyway.

The client wanted to get completion with her older sister, call her A, who had died a few years ago. In the process she ended up visiting another sister and some other people as well. The client is female, in her 70’s, and had two sister, one which was very psychic and one that was staunchly atheist/materialistic and thought all that paranormal stuff was pure bunk.

The induction went fast, and she when directly to a beautiful place: “I found myself sitting on a stone floor in front of a stone throne that was two steps up from where I sat. Behind me was an almost life-sized Buddha figure. The room was ringed with small stained glass windows with Christian themes. The stone floor and throne setting seemed very old and had a roughish, primitive appearance. The floor, though, was very smooth and comfortable. The room seemed to me to represent various faiths that I had encountered and the idea that I had accepted parts of each one and the room illustrated that. I think I laughed out loud several times as I found the room quite delightful.”

She did laugh, and cry, many times throughout the session.

When she finished describing the room, I asked A to join her: “I had a very hard time not seeing her as a dead body, but gradually bits and pieces of her personality began to come through. She said to me, laughing ‘I can sparkle and (?) for you if that’s what you want, but you know we don’t really need that.’ Not her exact words, but that was the general idea, that if I needed to see her as lively and ‘lifelike’ she could do that.”

“I had felt that I had let her down as she was dying by not impressing on her that she should look for the light, a guide, etc., but she had turned to a standard form of religion not long before she died, and I realized that I hadn’t felt right about ‘imposing’ my beliefs about the afterlife on her at that point.”

“We ‘talked’ for a while, and she reminded me that we both knew there were no boundaries and that we could communicate without outside support. I gave her permission to ‘drop in’ whenever she felt like it.”

The client laughed and cried during this conversation. She then said her “so longs” to A (No Good-Byes here, they would be talking again!). Something she said made me suspect there might me more to do here, so I suggested that she see if there was someone else she wanted to talk to:

“Then I looked for my other sister. Call her B. She died a few months after A. I had felt really bad that I was unable to understand what she was saying the last time we spoke, as her voice was very rough and she was sort of mumbling. I felt worse that I had no idea whether the last words I spoke to her conveyed anything of my feelings about her. We never did address that in this session, but it didn’t seem to matter.”

“When I first saw her in this session she was sitting in a sort of office – a small room with books, papers, a computer. She said she knew she was dead, but thought she might just as well stay in her little room as she didn’t believe there was anything else out there.”

I was looking for a way to get B to consider leaving the room. B had said that she was writing letters, so I asked something like, would the people they were addressed to ever read them. That gave B pause, she had never considered that. Somehow in the conversation, the fact that one of her sons had died, came up. A suggested the client go with that: “I asked her if she knew that one of her sons had recently died. At this point, Rod asked me to encourage her to open the door of her room, and when she did, the son was standing there. They eventually walked off happily together.”

Then the client switched back to A: “She more or less brushed off all my apologies, conveying to me that it wasn’t important, that what I had or hadn’t said to her didn’t impede her in any way. Our Dad came to get her, and the two of them walked off together. I just realized that it didn’t occur to me to try to speak with my Dad. He said to A that, although he had never actually said it to her, he hoped she knew that he had always loved her very much.”

“While she and I were talking, I felt that I wanted to hug her or touch her in some way. I realized that we had never been ‘huggy’ with each other, but we did have a very strong bond. She was very lighted-hearted and laughed a lot, which was typical of her in life.”

“Rod brought me back to the original room.” (The “Chapel”) “I felt much more peaceful that I had at the beginning.”

I had a “Ah Ha” moment during this session. There was one point where it felt like I had lost focus, or my mind had wandered. This has happened, from time to time, and I usually just feel bad and double my efforts to stay focused. This time I got something totally different, because I realized that it had happened right after I had the client to give a suggestion to one of her sisters. What had actually happened is the that energy of the room had shifted, which I believe meant that the sister we had been talking to had had an insight and we were making progress!

When I read this, I can’t help but think that there are some important points that are missing, but I just can’t remember them. Lesson learned: I need to start recording all my sessions.

Unexpected Benefits

This Sunday I attended the monthly Paranormal Pub, put on by MUFON and McMenamins. Admission is free and I find it’s a great way to spend a Sunday evening. And it’s only a short walk to several great pubs, if you don’t want to go home afterwards. The speaker this month was Susan Pease Banitt clinical social worker and author, talking about past life regression and it’s role in healing trauma. McMenamins serves a variety of adult beverages and I suspect that my partaking may have had a role to play in later events.

I like to show up early, so I can get my drink and get settled into my favorite spot before the crowd shows up. I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me, and then, as luck would have it, some people I’d met a few times before, at other events, showed up and joined us. The person who sat next to me was someone I thought was pretty cool, but that may be because I’m pretty sure this aint our first BBQ. I generally don’t say anything in these cases, it seems best to let sleeping dogs lie unless it comes up for some other reason.

At the end of her talk, Susan offered a group past life regression for anyone who wanted to stay. Of course, we all stayed.

My regression didn’t seem all the remarkable. I saw three scenes, all three were dominated by the big round eyes of a young girl, about six or so. I couldn’t see much else about her except a dress that tagged her as native american. For myself, I saw dirty, knobby, bare feet and extremely ragged pants. I got the impression that I was European, maybe mid thirties, and very dirty, ragged and in really bad shape. My impression is that I was the girl’s father, but I never knew about her, or I abandoned her mother before she was born. I saw nothing about the mother, so perhaps she was dead. It seems that, somehow, I’d found my way back to the tribe in this terrible state. The first scene seemed to take place in the late afternoon on a rainy, overcast day. The light had that particular flavor to it. The girl and I were standing outside. I think there might have been other people around. Nothing else happened.

In the second scene, it was night, and I was sitting with the girl, in front of a big fire, outside, with many other people. In this scene I had the impression of teepees in the background. Again, it was just a snapshot with no action.

In the last scene, I was lying on the ground, in the dirt, it was day again, morning perhaps, and the girl was standing next to me. I was dying. I was inside the camp, for there were a few people and teepees around, but no one was paying any attention to us. I soon raised up floated away, watching the scene grow smaller and smaller below me. The girl was watching me the whole time. The little girl was the person sitting next to me.

Afterwards, I felt...off. And the feeling got worse and worse as time went on. It only took a few minutes before I was fighting to hold it together against fear, shame and indecision. I just wanted to get out of there. Part of me was yelling at me to talk to someone and get some sort of help, but fear of “being a bother” took control and I fled without saying anything to anyone. I drove home, doing all I could to hold it together under an onslaught of fear, guilt and shame. I apologize to everyone there for being so rude as vanish without a word.

After a miserable night, I dragged myself up to see that nasty shadow was still there. I know I had to do something about it, I had an unusually busy day with clients and other appointments, and the last thing I needed was to have this cloud hanging over me, interfering.

Finally, my rational mind kicked in and the obvious dawned on me: I’d picked up a hitchhiker during the regression. That’s a new one on me, I’ve never even heard of even the possibility of that before! Fortunately I had time before my first appointment, so I had a conversation with my new tenant. I can’t remember his name now, but he actually was from that time. He and a girl had tried to run off together, but the men of the tribe had caught them and killed him. Somehow he managed to latch onto me and I pulled him into the present. It only took a few minutes to send him on. It felt do good, after all that turmoil, to be so relaxed and peaceful again. I couldn’t enjoy it long, though, places to go, people to see, and all that.

I can’t be sure of this, but I suspect that having some alcohol in my system made it easier for him to latch on to me. Maybe this was all meant to be, so it would have made no difference but, who knows? Another insight I’ve had about this is that I think that my reaction was so strong because his feelings hooked into and amplified latent feelings of my own. That could be another reason why and how he was able to effect me so strongly, his deep resonance with my emotions, on a subconscious level, that allowed him to slip past my normal defenses.

I’m sure he is gone, but an echo of his feelings still remain. So here’s another aspect of this whole incident: Perhaps his purpose was to help me to bring up and deal with emotions that I’d allowed to slide out of sight, where I could ignore them. This, and other events, are making it pretty clear that I’ll be confronting some uncomfortable issues pretty soon.