Wind: A Multi-dimensional Experience 4h305e

WIND

A Multi-Dimensional Experience

Lorene M Pulles

Copyright © 2016 Lorene M Pulles.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the

information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-6833-9 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-5043-6835-3 (hc) ISBN: 978-1-5043-6834-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016917434

Balboa Press rev. date: 11/03/2016

Contents

Introduction

Part 1 – The Awakening

Chapter 1 – The Early Years

Chapter 2 – Miracle

Chapter 3 – Meditation

Chapter 4 – Wind

Chapter 5 – Physical Changes and Abilities

Chapter 6 – Future Visions from Wind

Chapter 7 – Power Animals and Shape Shifting

Part 2 – Transcendence

Chapter 8 – Twin Flame

Chapter 9 – Past Lives

Chapter 10 – Miracle Healings and Reiki

Chapter 11 – The Messengers

Chapter 12 – Shamanic Journeys

Part 3 – A Humble Awareness

Chapter 13 – Multi-Dimensional Lives

Chapter 14 – Sweat Lodge and Spirit Guide

Chapter 15 – Final onitions

Chapter 16 – A Spiritual Meeting with The Council of Light

Chapter 17 – The Beginning

Chapter 18 – The End of My Self-Doubt

About the Author

This book is dedicated:

To the Universal Guardians, who look over our sacred Earth, and protect me on my journey. Thank you for the wonderful insights and the immense love that you share.

To my beautiful husband Fred, who has been an angel of , guidance and love, your strength, is miraculous. I love you.

To my amazing children, Kalie, Janaya, Keegan, Carey and Adam, who are the lights of my life.

To my beautiful grandchildren, Demi, Halle, Wiley and Myra, who were born to experience this incredible Earth, the best is yet to come.

To my co-workers who have had to endure all my unusual stories.

And last but not least, to Donna Steeves, Lida MacLellan, Nikki Field and R. J. Roberts for proof reads and edits. Thank you. Thank you, Thank you and Thank you.

Introduction

Most of us wonder about our world and where we come from. We think about a God who made the Earth in seven days and seven nights. Some of us expand our thinking beyond Earth to the universe, thinking about other planets and the possibility of other life. It took me awhile to accept that there may in fact be other life forms living on other planets, some similar to us and some very different. Then there is another possibility, one that is even more infinite than the first two ways of thinking; the possibility not only of physical planets with physical life forms, but of worlds in which all life exists in etheric forms. These spirit realms, their environment and the beings that are alien to us, live in those extraordinary worlds. They are able to transfer and shapeshift their energy into any physical form and travel through any dimension. These beings, whether they are angels, guides or even our higher selves, all have one thing in common. They seek to travel and transpire to help other planetary people discover their inherent birthright to create. These worlds are parallel to our own, yet unfamiliar to our physical senses. Nevertheless, these worlds still exist. My journey into awareness of these worlds was a gradual and skeptical one. I started my life with a solid religious foundation and transformed into an open, unbiased spiritual being, realizing my capabilities and accepting that there is something more than a single creator or God. That’s what this true story is about. This is a story about discovering the vast universe, step-by-step, and accepting that there is much we do not understand, and much to learn about life and energy. Fifteen years ago, I met a radiant, luminous being named Wind. She appeared to me in a vision and continued to appear to me until I understood her lessons about healing ourselves and understanding our sensitivities to the Earth’s energies and the universe. Her lessons taught me how we create light and darkness with every emotion and thought. I came to understand that we were born from pure essence, energy and love, and that we affect everything in our world by simply existing in light. I learned that the Creator is deep within every one of us. We manifest our own environments and realities, and have the power to make positive changes.

Wind produced miracle after miracle. My experiences with Wind are documented throughout this book. This divine being taught me about myself and showed me how to heal past traumas. Wind taught me to be observant and realize I had more to learn. The greatest gift she offered me was a belief in unlimited potential. But her final and most integral purpose would unravel a tangled web of synchronicities, producing the most shocking revelation of all. It wasn’t until my forty-ninth birthday on March 9, 2015 after a bizarre and powerful experience, that I felt an urgency to convey these experiences. As an Executive Director of a family centre, I held weekly staff meetings. On this particular day, at the beginning of the meeting, fifteen employees witnessed what looked like neon green ink appearing under the skin of my fingertips. I tried to rub the colour away but the ink dripped down my fingers like small blobs of paint. The message was simple: it was time to write, to be strong, and to have the courage to tell my story. This story may not be true for everyone because everyone is creating and experiencing their own journey. But it is definitely true for me. Tomorrow, I may discover something new and expand my understanding. After all, with everything I have discovered in the last fifteen years, I have come to realize that I have most likely only stepped into a speck of what our vast universe, with all her glorious mysteries, has to offer. My hope is that the experiences I share provide even the slightest inspiration for those who may be going through a similar process of self-discovery, inner power, love and acceptance. I hope that my own journey will advocate continued growth to the highest possibility, and for spiritual humans to understand the power of our existence and our ability to heal ourselves and this amazing earth we all cherish and share. Love & Light, Enjoy.

Part 1 The Awakening

Chapter 1 The Early Years

I have always felt that humans are not alone on the Earth. I was constantly seeking the truth about our existence and curious about the world in which we live. I felt there were other beings that we couldn’t see walking on this physical plane. I would lie in bed at night and see tiny flashes of light and shadows moving across the room. Of course, as a child, I didn’t think it was abnormal. I assumed everyone else had similar experiences. I also had the privilege of growing up on Prince Edward Island, a small, quaint Island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I would spend many of my summer days swimming in the ocean, floating on my back and staring up into the sky, cloud gazing and imagining all the possibilities our beautiful Earth had to offer. I dreamt of experiencing them all. My spiritual was my father’s mother; I called her “White Head Nanny.” My Nanny was a very religious Protestant, and up until age ten or eleven, I spent many summer nights with her reading the Bible. The Book of Revelation fascinated me. Frequently, Nanny, my grandfather and I would sit around their big grandfather clock as each of us took turns reading verses from the Bible. My reward for doing this was helping Nanny bake cookies. Looking back, I think my Nanny knew I was gifted. I was the only grandchild who ever got to spend the night with her. She made sure I attended her church and understood who Jesus was. In later years, my father revealed to me that my Nanny had a special gift of premonitions. My father said that, as children, he and his siblings watched Nanny prepare the family’s ‘best’ dress clothes and iron grandpa’s suit. Every time she did this, there was always a death in the family a few days later. The children came to understand that when the suits came out, someone was about to die. Nanny and I had a special bond. I felt that she could really ‘see’ me. She knew my thoughts and my ions. Since my mother never went to church, I have my Nanny to thank for opening a spiritual curiosity in me. Because of her, I would seek out most every church in the neighbourhood and attend on my own. I

refused to go into the children’s bible study groups, wanting instead to stay with the ‘big people.’ I thought about the minister’s sermon, as it was being preached, and quietly raised my hand to ask questions. They didn’t seem to like my questions, and they definitely didn’t appreciate me when I challenged their beliefs. I yelling out that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene. The minister went pale and everyone looked at me. I confidently asserted, “It’s true,” and gestured for the minister to continue. I think I was ten years old. I had no educated reason to make such a declaration and I saying the same thing to Nanny when we read the Bible. She informed me very sternly that Jesus did not have a wife, and that it was total nonsense. Maybe, as a fanciful child, I made it up because I wanted him to have a wife and be happy. I adored Mary Magdalene and defended her as much as I felt the need to defend Jesus. I could have been comparing them to Cinderella and other romantic children’s stories. Either way, I valued honesty. I was too young at the time to understand that people’s beliefs could be different, and I was very opinionated, particularly when the ministers did not believe what I did. I would sit there judging their sermons and shaking my head at what I thought was their dishonesty. Some of the adults would try to talk to me, saying I had to listen and learn and stop my nonsense. Then I would be ‘good’ for a while, because I didn’t want to be punished and have to go to the children’s study. Some of the church ladies went to my house to talk to my mom about my disputative behaviour. My mom didn’t really care what I did in church and she certainly had no desire to attend church just to supervise me. My first experience of blending my religious and spiritual journeys was around that time, when I was ten. I had heard some myth that if a person had warts they could do a spell with thread and the warts would go away. I decided to give it a try. I had a big wart on my left hand above my index finger and a small wart on the top of my left knee. I heard that if you tie a knot in a thread for every wart you have, and then bury the thread in the ground, the warts would magically disappear. I asked my mom for some thread and explained that I was going to get rid of my wart. Ignoring her opinion that it was just an old wives tale, I took the thread and went outside. With bare hands I dug a small hole in the ground. I took the thread in my right hand and rubbed it all over the wart on my left hand, then I tied one knot and prayed for my wart to be removed. After the ritual, I buried the threaded knot in the ground. A few moments after burying the thread, I realized that I had forgotten about the wart on my knee. I faced a dilemma should I cast another spell or use the same thread I had just buried? What would happen if I dug up the thread I had already buried? I mulled it over for a few

seconds and decided the spell had to be done correctly. I dug up the thread and rubbed it on my knee. I then tied a second knot and reburied the thread. Two weeks later, the warts disappeared, but the one on my knee left a small indent. I took the indent as a sign that magic worked, but only partially if you screwed up. After the success of my spell, my imagination really took off. I began thinking of all the possibilities if everything was that simple. I didn’t know it yet, but my child-like imagination would be a key that would unlock my gift of spiritual power. The doors to the spirit realm would open one-by-one. And I would be carried further into the depths of cosmic consciousness, like a spider’s web expanding outwards, bigger and bigger, to the point where everything interconnects with all living things; the air, the mountains, the sea, the world around us and the space we thought we couldn’t see. I continued my path, seeking and searching and dreaming, but most importantly, believing. When I was twelve, we moved to the west side of Summerside, PEI. Every day on the way to and from school, I would walk past a big beautiful Catholic Church. One day on the way home from school, I quietly opened the massive front doors and looked inside. There didn’t appear to be anyone inside, so I snuck in for a peek. Immediately, the smell of the old wooden pews struck me, like some ancient wood from centuries ago. A deep comforting feeling came over me. I glanced up at the massive stained glass windows and the orchestra balcony above. My eyes followed the length of the aisle. At the end of the aisle, looking high above the pulpit area, Jesus was hanging on a cross. Mesmerized, I approached him, my eyes fixed on him. I knelt on the communion bench and gazed upward. After all he had done for the world, I wondered how lonely he must be, just deserted up there. Bowing my head, I prayed to him, sending him love and apologizing for what people did to him. I promised I would watch over him and check up on him and visit him when I could. As I prayed, I felt like he was watching me, hearing me, and deep inside I started to feel sorrow for him, like the world just didn’t understand him. Years later, I realized it was I who didn’t understand him. The emotion I was feeling for him when I prayed was his pure love pouring over me. However, my innocence caused me to mistake that love for sorrow, because it was so powerful it brought me to tears. Whenever I was alone and walked by that church, I would go in and talk to Jesus. A couple of years later when my family finally got approved for low-

income housing, we moved to yet another area of town. I could no longer visit Jesus at the church, but I continued to visit him in my mind and heart.

Chapter 2 Miracle

At thirty-two years old I was living in Maple Ridge BC, working at Alouette River Correctional Institute. One afternoon, an hour into my shift, a code yellow was called over the radio. A code yellow meant that staff needed backup and all available staff must respond. There was an inmate fight happening in the kitchen. I was about 300 yards away working in a housing dorm. Feeling the adrenaline pumping, I began to run, focusing on getting to the location fast. Suddenly, my right leg felt light like it wasn’t taking the full weight. I started to slow down and then my leg gave out. Rubbing my leg on the floor of the hall and in the frenzy of the emergency it didn’t really that there was something physically wrong with me. I tried to force myself to walk off the feeling of numbness. Within a few seconds my leg responded and I could walk again. I entered the kitchen and saw that the staff had everything under control. All heads turned to look at me. One of my co-workers had witnessed me collapse on the ground in the hall. “Well, what took you so long?” he asked in an effort to ease the apparent guilt reflected in my demeanour, and his own concern for me. In the six months following that incident I would have numbness and feelings of tingling in my body. I would see my skin rise and I could see a rippling effect in my neck, legs and feet. It looked like a snake flowing under my skin. It was never painful but felt and looked shockingly gross. Doctors began to think I had MS. Since the effects were a daily occurrence they thought it was possibly progressive MS. I was placed on a waitlist for an MRI. I continued to work, not wanting to take time off. Firstly, being a woman in a male dominated environment, I did not want to be portrayed as someone putting a burden on the system, or show any sign of weakness. Secondly, I was more institutionalized than I cared to it. I needed socialization and did not want to lose with the family I had made behind prison walls. At times, my co-workers came to hang out at my apartment and some would

comment that it felt unusual in my home. They described a sensation like someone was watching them when they visited. I nonchalantly itted that I felt that most of the time. I started to date a fellow who said he sometimes felt all the hair on his body rise when he came into my home “like something was in the air.” I’d just laugh it off and casually respond that I always feel people watching me. My casual take on my guests’ unsettling experiences and observations was never something I questioned. Not once did I think the energy unusual; the presence was commonplace to me. After about 6 months of symptoms and no sign of improvement I had to accept the terrifying possibility that I had progressive MS. Preparing for the worst I began to write my will. I writing that if I got to the point where I couldn’t talk or do anything that maybe my sister would take care of me. I didn’t have a close relationship with her, but I knew she was great at taking care of people. She had some challenges in her life that helped her care for and understand people with disabilities. I hoped she would care for me and I wouldn’t be too much of a burden. After my will was written I went to bed and prayed. I swore that if I miraculously were to be healed I would commit my life to healing others. Calmly, I fell asleep, trusting my fate to God. The next morning, my alarm went off and I climbed out of bed to get ready for work. As I showered, I noticed that the twitching and spasms were gone. All through the day, I remained asymptomatic. When I got home, there was a message on the phone reminding me of my MRI appointment. Although my symptoms were gone, I followed through with the test. Surprisingly, the MS results were negative. There were no black dots on my brain. My symptoms had simply disappeared. I would always my promise to help others, to the best of my human ability. Throughout my career as a corrections officer, I made sure I listened to the inmates. I heard their stories and tried to counsel rather than judge them.

Chapter 3 Meditation

Shortly after the MS symptoms disappeared, I was lying on the couch when I started playing with my hands in the air, like I was holding something between them. I was in a bit of a dazed state. When my boyfriend asked what I was doing, I explained that I could feel a slimy ball between my hands and was mesmerized by how comforting it felt. I said I could stretch it and move it around. Astonished, he asked if I had any idea what ‘it’ was. I replied, “No.” My boyfriend, having a black belt in a martial arts discipline, told me it was energy. He said he tried to feel energy, as described by his instructors, but he had no success. He had only heard of being able to feel energy. He explained my experiences to some of our friends, and an acquaintance suggested I try meditation classes, and knew of a local group. That year, I went to my first meditation class in Maple Ridge, BC. Unbeknownst to me, meditation would open up new doors to self-discovery. The meditation classes were every Tuesday evening for an hour and a half. For the first session, I walked into a dimly lit room with ten chairs placed in a circle. In total, there were nine women and one man. The instructor began the guided meditation by teaching us how to ground. She connected us to the earth with an imaginary white rod that ran through our chakras. She then played a forty-five minute guided CD. At the time, I had no clue what chakras were. The guided visualization explained each chakra, where they were located in our body, the colour associated with them, and how they made us feel. Chakras are like swirling wheels in the centre of our bodies through which invisible energy travels. Each chakra is associated with different parts of our physical, spiritual, mental and emotional bodies. There are hundreds of chakras in our body. But in our meditation group, we specifically focused on the main seven. I learned that each chakra must remain open and aligned to ensure a healthy mind, body, spirit and soul. If there is blockage energy cannot flow.

The first main chakra is the root chakra, located at the base of our spine or tailbone area. The second chakra is our sacral chakra, about two inches below the navel. The third, our solar plexus chakra, is located above the navel and close to the breastbone. Our fourth chakra, the heart chakra, exists in the centre of the chest and just above the heart. The fifth is the throat chakra, and the sixth is the third eye chakra, which is located in the middle of the forehead, between the eyes. The seventh chakra (or the crown) is located at very top of the head. When I meditated my solar plexus chakra felt on fire, like someone was twisting a knife in my stomach. It really hurt, but I tried not to focus on the pain. The instructor explained that the solar plexus chakra represented our personal power, and I probably had a block due to life traumas or anything that may have affected my personal power or self-identity. It took a few meditation sessions before my solar plexus became unblocked. When it finally did, I heard a loud pop and felt my stomach jerk. Then the sharp pain was gone. I realized that my solar plexus was beginning to heal and channel energy more efficiently. I was regaining my personal power. During the first meditation session, as I was focusing on the sensations running through each chakra, I started to feel like I was swirling in my chair. I was trying to keep myself still and focus on my third eye. I felt a shift of energy in the room, the same feeling I got when I was home alone, or what my friends would say they sometimes felt when visiting me. As I focused more intently on my third eye, a beautiful indigo colour began swirling in front of me, the colour expanding and retracting, in and out like swirls of beautiful thick ink. I was completely intoxicated with the beauty of the colour. Never before had I seen anything as vibrant. Lost in the dancing of this indigo ink, the colour suddenly spread open and an old grey-haired man appeared in front of me. More accurately, I could see him in my third eye. My eyes were closed, but I could see him standing in the room in front of me, as if my eyes were perfectly open. He seemed to walk the circle and look at everyone, inspecting us. I followed him until I felt another shift of energy, like someone entering the room. I again focused back to my third eye and there appeared a woman before me. However, all I could see of her was from the waist down. I saw her long black skirt and shoes. Again my eyes were closed, but felt open. Telepathically, she said, “Mother.” Then she said, “Man in room.” I realized that she was trying to tell me that the man in the meditation group was her son. She wanted me to tell him she was there, with him, in the room. Well, I couldn’t do that! I had just started this group. I had never communicated with a spirit to give a message. I didn’t want to

look like a nut. I didn’t want to scare the crap out of this man. So I just whispered in my mind, “No, I can’t do that. Sorry.” After the group session ended, I lingered behind, waiting for everyone to leave. I told the instructor about the old man I had seen. She took a step back, shocked. “You saw him?” she asked. She explained that he was her guide and she was surprised that someone else had seen him. She said he sometimes checks out what she does in the group. Typically, she is the only one who knows he is present. I didn’t tell her about the woman I had seen. I didn’t know what to think of that. During my next meditation session, we did a practice set of ESP cards. The instructor had us pair up. One person held ten cards and the other had to guess each one. The cards consisted of different shapes, squares, circles, triangles and the merkaba (also known as the “Star of David”). The instructor was walking around the room, watching each group. When I guessed nine out of ten shapes, the instructor told me that my guesses had not been a coincidence. She asked me to guess again. This time, she wanted me to guess the card shape and colour. She told my partner to shuffle and pick ten again. Again, I correctly guessed the shape and colour of nine out of the ten cards. Both times, the merkaba was the one card I guessed wrong. Both times, I had thought it was a star. At our third meditation class, after we meditated, the group played a game with a pendulum to find our ‘totem animal,’ or spirit animal. My animal ended up being a black crow. I went home naively complaining that I didn’t want a crow for a totem. I didn’t understand anything about totem spirits but felt that I would rather have something more exotic. For days, it bugged me that I just had a crow. One night, I decided do some research on what the crow signified in the spirit world. I read somewhere online that the crow was the holder of spiritual law, meaning it protected the laws of spirit. I was so excited to realize that each totem has a purpose, a significant meaning. I ran to my partner, babbling away about how I was so happy to have a crow for a spirit animal. He had no idea what the heck I was talking about, and must have thought I was going completely bonkers. I was obsessed over the news about my spirit animal, just as a child would obsess over a new favourite toy. All night I talked about the crow and searched the internet for more information. By the time I went to sleep, I was dreaming of

crows. My partner was glad I had finally shut up and he, too, fell asleep. At 5:00 am, I was woken by the sound of scratching. I thought it was a mouse and lay there listening. Tuning into the direction of the sound, I realized it was coming from the wall beside the window. I woke up my partner and asked if he could hear the sound. He sarcastically said it was probably the mouse I had been feeding. I grumbled at him and sleepily spilled out of bed. I walked to the window and opened the curtains to look outside. I was startled to see two crows staring at me. They were grasping the outside sill of the window, each crow taking turns pecking at the edge of the window, like they were trying to get inside the room. My eyes teared up. I softly whispered to my partner, “You will not believe what I am seeing.” “Don’t tell me, it’s a crow,” he mumbled. “Crows, two of them!” I stopped searching the internet about crows and instead started paying attention to the ones I saw every day. I began to accept that we were watched and protected by spirit through every living form. In between meditation sessions, I would practice focusing on my third eye and paying attention to the colours. One night, I fell asleep and had the most vivid dream. In my dream, there was a remarkable desert with golden sand for miles. All of a sudden, I felt my heart racing and saw a beautiful black jaguar running wildly across the desert. I felt like I was flying right beside her. I could see her sleek body, her paws pounding on the sand, running at full speed. As she ran, her intense eyes were focused straight ahead. I could hear her quick deep breaths and felt the adrenaline run through her body, her heartbeat pounding with mine. It was as though we had become one. I knew I was dreaming, but the experience seemed so real, like I was really running with this striking exotic cat. This scenario went on for a few minutes before my eyes abruptly shot open and I was lying in bed awake, with my heart pounding. It was the wildest experience I have ever had, so raw and pure. I finished all ten mediation sessions. Each time I meditated, I saw the colour indigo. On occasion, the colour green would appear, and both colours would swirl in my third eye. Then I started to have visions without meditating, and with my eyes wide open. It was obvious that I was seeing life under a new light.

Chapter 4 Wind

I kept feeling someone around me but I couldn’t see who. I would meditate and hear a woman speak in a language that I didn’t understand and could not translate. At times, I would feel a hand on my shoulder. But when I looked to see who was there, no one was visible. I decided that I was going to meditate and focus on meeting the person, angel or spirit guide that I was sensing. Over the next couple of weeks, each time I meditated or went to bed at night, I simply asked, “Who are you?” I cleared my mind and concentrated on the indigo light dancing in my third eye. One evening, tired from working a twelve-hour shift at the prison, I sleepily crawled into bed and closed my eyes. “Who are you?” I asked. In my mind, a soft light appeared and a beautiful, luminous woman stepped forward. Her straight, smooth black hair flowed to the floor, falling gracefully over the full length of the subtle dress she was wearing. Her skin was olive and flawless, her features delicate and fully defined. She presented as distinguished and exquisite, a goddess with a Far Eastern look, like she was perhaps Pakistani, Israeli or Peruvian. “Terraban Wind,” she replied. I asked, “Terraband or Terraban?” She again, repeated her name. I couldn’t make out the second part of her first name. So, we settled on “Terra Wind.” From that night forward, she would appear consistently for over a year, and my lessons would begin. Wind was strong-willed and demanded respect. Throughout my lessons, she would show me little sympathy. She would not put up with any childish nonsense, and demanded that I observe her lead and control all emotions. If I faltered, she would simply vanish. I would have to think about what I had done, and assure her that I would try harder to stay focused should she appear again. I would attempt to resist asking a million questions and just be in the moment and watch. For a while, she’d steadily return. She would reach deep in my soul, drawing out senses and memories I never knew existed. I cherished her every word, revelation and action. She was the most heavenly being I would ever meet.

Chapter 5 Physical Changes and Abilities

Shortly after meeting Wind, one of my most life altering experiences happened. One evening, my two nieces and I had just finished watching two movies and the three of us were all getting sleepy. I turned the TV off and made my way down the hall towards my bedroom. I began to feel energy pulling in the centers of my palms, which had become a common occurrence when I had a build-up of energy. To release the pressure, I usually visualized sending distant healing into the world until the energy subsided. But this time was different and I was in for a terrifying surprise. When the sensation in my palms intensified, I immediately started thinking about sending healing to the Earth. Then the bones in my hands started to ache. They literally felt like they were stretching. I quickly drew my hands up in front of my face and watched in shock as my hands transformed. I started to scream and my nieces came running. They saw the look on my face and turned their attention to my hands. The more introverted of my two nieces quietly said, “Oh gross.” My other more extroverted niece excitedly said, “Cool! Whose hands are those?” I replied that I did not know, but they certainly were not mine. My hands turned a blackish green colour and all the veins protruded. Finally, the bones transformed and thickened, and my hands looked a thousand years old, and as large as a man’s. Stunned, I walked to the kitchen table and sat down. Dumbfounded, I just stared at my hands. The girls, meanwhile, were speechless. This lasted for about ten minutes. Then, as quickly as they had changed, the hands reverted back to my own. All through the transformation, there wasn’t any pain. There was only a feeling of pressure. By the time this happened, I had been having visions with Wind almost every night. But I was confused. I expected that if my hands were going to shift, they would look more like a woman’s than a man’s. I didn’t know who

to talk to about these strange experiences, other than a couple of very close friends. I knew the visions were real, but I also knew that a lot of people in our society would just think I was insane. Even before my hands shifted, I had made an appointment with my doctor, who referred me to counselling. Unfortunately, I was still on the waitlist. Sitting there, looking at my hands, my eyes started to water. I was trying hard not to cry in front of the girls. I had been so afraid that if I told too many people about my visions, they would think I was insane. I had no physical proof of the things that had been happening to me. Until then, I only had predictions of things to come, and the things I had seen. Who could I tell? And what good would it do? I started to cry quietly. I didn’t cry out of fear, I cried out from relief. Finally, something had happened, something physical had happened, and I had proof and witnesses. I knew I was not insane, and I knew my experiences were real. I really needed to talk to someone, someone real. I didn’t want to talk to a spirit guide. I needed . I went to bed and prayed for the spirit to please bring me guidance. The next day, I received a phone call from a counsellor’s office stating I had an appointment with Dr. Daas. I pulled up in front of Dr. Daas’s office, which was in a beautiful historic brick building. Nervously, I walked up the four steps, unsure of what he would say about me. I knew I had to be open and honest, and tell him about all my experiences. I opened the front door of the building to a warm, peaceful room. The receptionist was sitting behind an antique desk. She told me to have a seat and Dr. Daas would be with me shortly. I sat in a big comfy chair with rich upholstery. The old hardwood floors, moulded wood window frames and high ceilings reminded me of my old farm homes in Prince Edward Island. I immediately started to relax. Between the foyer and hall that led to Dr. Daas’ office, I noticed a very large Buddha statue. I thought how strange it was for a counsellor to have Buddhist décor. The receptionist signalled for me to follow her down the short hall. I was led to a small comfortable office with a couple of chairs, a loveseat and an old wooden desk. I sat quietly waiting for the Doctor. In the room was another statue of Buddha, this one smaller. The door opened and Dr. Daas entered the room. He looked really old for a Doctor. He had greying hair, and a slim build. He was probably taller than he appeared, as he had a cane

and was slightly hunched over. He slowly made his way into the room, looking down at the floor and watching each step. Then he looked up at me and things got weird. A spark of light flashed in his eyes, and a brilliant smile lit up his face. Excitedly, he picked up his step a beat and headed for the desk. Reaching for an appointment book, Dr. Daas started flipping through the pages. He stopped at a page and turned around to face me. “When did you make this appointment?” he asked. “Well,” I said, “it was a bit ago. I was on a waitlist with another doctor, but at the last minute he cancelled. I was told I would have to come here, if I wanted an appointment right away. You’re about an hour drive for me.” “You wanted to see someone about two months ago?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied. He nodded, getting more excited. Then he asked, “Why are you here?” I bluntly told him I had a lot of crazy stuff happening to me and I didn’t know why. He asked me to tell him my story, and I told him everything. When I was done, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “You are not crazy. In fact, you are a very gifted young lady. If you can learn to conquer your fear, you will be the best in the world.” I clearly those exact words; because I knew what was happening to me was real. But I didn’t know if anyone would believe me, especially a doctor. “How do you know?” I asked. “And the best at what?” Dr. Daas explained that he had already seen me. I looked at him, confused. “You came to me.” he said. I didn’t understand what he meant. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I protested. “I was never here before, and this is my first appointment.” I was thinking that this old guy was senile, and that he was losing his mind. Just my luck, I thought. Crazy me meets a crazy doctor. As if reading my mind, he smiled at me.

“No,” he said. “You came to me in what you would call a vision.” I looked at him, stunned. “What do you mean?” Dr. Daas explained, “A couple of months ago, I was meditating and I saw you standing before me. You gave me a message about yourself. You said, ‘I am coming to see you and I need your help, please tell me that I am not crazy!’” “I did that?” I asked. “Yes, you really did, and you are not crazy.” “What is happening to me?” I asked. “You are accessing high frequency levels and dimensions.” I had no idea what he meant by frequencies and dimensions. The confused look on my face ed. Dr. Daas understood that I had no clue what he was talking about. He looked at me and said, “I don’t want you to feel you are seeing me as a doctor. I will be your mentor.” Dr. Daas gave me some instructions on what I was to do for the next couple of weeks. They included researching dimensions and frequencies, meditating twice a day for forty-five minutes, and taking notes of all visions, physical changes or anything else unusual. We would discuss my notes at the next appointment. I left his office with a mixture of feelings. I was happy that someone believed me, and confused. What were those things he was talking about? Then fear hit me. What if he was crazy? I don’t the hour drive home that day. My mind had a million questions running through it. As soon as I pulled up in front of my house, I saw my girlfriend sitting on the front door steps, waiting to me. As I got out of my car she asked me how the appointment had gone. I replied that I thought the doctor was crazier than me. I walked past her, feeling the need to go in the house and to sit and think. My girlfriend followed me inside. As I sat on the sofa, I covered my face with my hands and started to cry out of relief, because the doctor truly believed me. My girlfriend said, “We all know you’re not crazy. You just need to understand

and learn how to control what is happening to you.” I started to research frequencies and dimensions but it was still too confusing for me. I meditated, and a lot more started to happen.

911

The morning of September 11, 2001, I made my coffee and went to sit on the rocking chair in the living room. As I sat, I felt a large, cool wave flow over me. I tried to tune in to see who had entered the room. I asked the spirit to identify itself. I couldn’t feel if they were male or female. A light chill fell over my body and emotions surged through me. My eyes teared up. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I felt emotionally sapped. A short time later, my phone rang and one of my co-workers told me to turn the news on. I was hesitant and nervous, as I hung up the phone and clicked the remote. Stunned and in shock, I sat alone watching repeat images of the planes hitting New York City’s twin towers. My phone rang again but I chose to ignore it. I sat by myself, trying to figure out why I felt a mixture of emotions. In addition to horror and heartbreak, I felt peace and gentleness. These were some of the most powerful and contradicting feelings I had ever experienced. I watched the planes hit again and again, and saw transparent squiggles of white light floating from the towers like white ribbons, flowing silently and gracefully. I realized that my feelings of peace were coming from watching the white ribbons. For the second time that day, I felt the cool breeze from earlier that morning flow over me. I sat quietly, with tears in my eyes, as calmness infused me. What was going on with me? What was I experiencing? What was I feeling? Was I in shock? Then I had a clear thought. “We are here. We are all in heaven now, and we had no pain. We were out of our physical bodies before we hit the ground. The ribbons you seen were us in spirit form.” My tears began falling, and I started to gasp for air. My chest ached, but I could feel so much peace. I was so overwhelmed by such intense love. I started to talk out loud, repeating, “They are all okay, they are all on the other side, and they’re in the light.” With my head bowed in my lap and my hands covering my face, I just sat there and cried.

How could an episode so horrific bring on such feelings of love, so powerful and beautiful? I was so confused, trying to digest the mixture of feelings. The physical incident felt cold and wrong, full of sorrow. The spirit world was pouring over me with comion and love. Being at odds with my moods, Spirit was trying to help me understand. Finally, I turned the TV off and sat in the rocking chair in a state of overwhelming shock. The next day, when I shared my experience with friends, I mentioned the white ribbons floating out of the building. They looked at me, confused. I explained how I kept watching the ribbons, but no one knew anything about these mysterious ribbons. In my naiveté, I assumed everyone had seen them. I turned on the TV to watch the news. When the towers were shown again, I could no longer see the white ribbons. I sat all day again, watching each scene, waiting for the ribbons to appear. But they never appeared again. Then, in my mind, I heard a voice, “They can’t see us. Only you can.” I realized I had had a vision while watching the news. I knew what I had seen was real. In my deepest sorrow, those souls showed me that they didn’t suffer. They showed me that when you cross over, there is no suffering. There is only love and peace. Unfortunately, the families and friends that were left behind are the ones who suffered from the loss of their loved ones. Yet, when we start to accept and understand that we are immortal, we can find solitude in the fact that there is life after we leave the Earth plane. Our loved ones are never lost; they move on to new heavens and they are always waiting to greet us when we them.

The Yard Officer and the Owl

Shortly after my 911 vision, other strange incidents began to occur. I had a crew of prisoners working in the wood yard, cutting and piling wood. It was summer, and although it was early in the morning, the day was exceptionally hot. The inmates were working really hard. Even with the stifling heat, no one was complaining. To compensate for their hard work and the heat, I

gave them the odd extra five minute water and smoke break. I found that the extra breaks meant better production and kept spirits high. It also prevented frustrations and arguments that could lead to inmate fights. We have a code amongst officers in corrections that decrees, that we never confront another officer in front of an inmate. If we have issues with co-workers, we discuss them in private. On this particular day, another officer had a crew of prisoners working on the lawns. He had a different work style than me and was not as flexible in changing his crew’s routine. As in most professions, we all have various work/personality styles. My crew was taking their second smoke break within a two-hour period when I heard someone yelling. I looked up and realized it was the officer with the yard crew. He was yelling at me about giving my “fucking inmates” breaks, and how the hell was he supposed to get any work out of his crew? He had a stocky build with a slightly balding head. He was flapping his arms around and flipping out. My crew looked up at me waiting for a response. I bit my tongue and turned my back on the officer, ignoring him. Sternly, I told my crew that when they were finished smoking their cigarettes, they should get back to work. They quietly complied. At noon, the officer came into the lunchroom. I looked at him and said I wanted to talk in private. He said, “Oh no, I yelled at you in front of everyone so you can do the same.” I refused and said I would be more comfortable in private. In the back office area I lost it on him. I told him he was never to disrespect me again in front of my crew, and that I ran my crew the way I saw fit and it was none of his business. He just looked me up and down, taking in my small stature. He laughed at me, then turned around and walked out. I waited until my nerves settled down and exited the office. My other peers were watching me but didn’t say a word. The next day, this yard officer was asked to do a night shift in another prisoner work camp, which was segregated for protective custody inmates. That camp was twenty-five kilometers in the bush. What happened to him that night gave him a great respect for the spirit world. He later apologized to me for his behaviour and attitude and told me his story. “It was just after midnight,” he explained. “I left the office to go check the units and do a quick inmate count and security check. As I stepped outside, I noticed that an owl was sitting in a tree watching me just up ahead. I looked at the owl and kept walking towards the units, the owl was staring at me intensely and

eerily hooted. I looked up at the owl and replied, ‘Woot, woot, yourself!’ Suddenly, the owl swooped down and clawed my head with its talons. Tucking my head down and yelling, I tried to shoo the bird away with my hands. It finally let go and flew away.” The yard officer then looked me straight in the eye and said, “As I brought my head up following the owl attack, I saw you standing in front of me. I mean, I saw an apparition of you standing there just staring at me. But you looked real. For a second, I was wondering how you got into camp.” Defensively, I replied, “No I wasn’t. I wasn’t anywhere near there, and I would never do anything like that, not ever. I was at work in the main camp and had witnesses, you can check the roster.” “I know, I know,” he replied. “I saw you standing there then you just disappeared, vanished, and the owl was gone too.” He later told me, “Well, if I wasn’t a believer in spirits before, I definitely am now.” I was relieved that he wasn’t mad at me anymore. In fact, we became fairly good friends during my six-year career in corrections. A year after the owl incident, I was working in the control centre with a female co-worker. She was curious about the spirit plane and asked me some questions. The yard officer overheard and told her to ask me about the owl. I told her the story that he had relayed to me. The next day, my co-worker came to work and quickly approached me. She said a sound woke her up at about 4:00 am. She lay in bed listening, and realized the sound was an owl. She thought it was coincidental that the owl came to her after we talked about owls the previous day. I explained that it wasn’t a coincidence. It was proof that spirits were everywhere. The owl’s hoot woke her every night for one week. She asked me why the owl was still waking her every night. I suggested that maybe the owl was there to help her with some question or direction. I told her she should try asking the owl for direction, and when she receives an answer, the owl will leave. The next day she told me that when the owl started hooting, she mentally asked a personal question. If the answer was yes, the owl would leave. If the answer was no, the owl would stay. The owl stopped hooting and left. She never heard the owl again.

We receive signs continuously throughout our life, to help us learn and evolve. Spiritual energy is always available in one form or another to help us through our journey. Once we realize and accept that we have the power to connect with this spiritual energy, whether through ourselves or other forms of life, we begin to create a self-fulfilling lifestyle, where all dreams are possible. Sometimes, to help us on our journey, we need a wakeup call. Sometimes it’s subtle, and other times it’s not. Either way, the call is never meant to harm us. It is meant to help guide us and open our awareness and perception to all life forms around us. We must believe that when we ask for help, we always receive guidance to help us choose the right path. Whether we choose to be aware or listen is completely up to us, and we always have the opportunity to change.

Premonition

My sleep was getting messed up from working shift work. When I woke up, I never knew if it was morning, afternoon or night. It usually took me a minute or two to figure out the time of day. Early one evening, I woke to the sound of the neighbourhood dogs howling. Frustrated, I tried to cover my head with my pillow, but off in the distance I heard sirens. I sat up in bed listening as the sirens got closer. My bedroom window was directly behind my headboard. I rolled over on my knees and leaned over the headboard to peer out the window. The main street was to the right, a couple of houses over from mine. I looked and watched as two fire trucks flew by, heading north. I quickly jumped out of bed. I ran down the hall, my hair tousled, rumpled pajamas, towards the suite below. My tenant, Susie, was sitting on the couch with three of her friends. They all immediately looked up at me. “What’s going on?” Susie asked. “There is a fire. Didn’t you guys hear the fire trucks go by?” Confused, they all stared at me. “There’s no fire.”

“Yes, there is,” I argued. “I heard the dogs howling, and then watched the fire trucks fly by.” Everyone got up off the couch and walked outside, listening and looking down the road. Worried, Susie looked back at me. “You were probably dreaming,” she said. At this point everyone had their eyes fixed on me. “I was not dreaming. I saw the trucks with my own eyes, and I watched them go by.” No one said anything. I was beginning to think that maybe Wind was playing tricks with my mind. Too tired to argue, I said goodnight and turned to walk toward the basement suite door. That’s when the dogs started to howl again. As if in slow motion, everyone turned to look toward the road. The fire trucks came roaring by, but no one said anything. Astonished, they all turned and looked back at me. One of the girls went pale. She looked to Susie and said she was going home. She quickly grabbed her purse and walked out the door. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders as I cheekily said to everyone else, “See, told ya.” And I walked out the door. Too exhausted to be excited about the occurrence, I crawled back into bed and smiled as I drifted off to sleep. I had just traveled into the future. Yes!

Christie-Car

I had been commuting from Chilliwack, BC to Alouette River Correctional Centre in Maple Ridge for about a year, taking the highway or occasionally the back scenic route up through Yarrow. My best friend, Christie, had been working as a gas attendant, making peanuts for wages. I encouraged her to sign up for the Justice Institute Program in New Westminster. I knew that with her dynamic personality, high energy and natural observation skills, she would make an exceptional corrections officer. This later proved to be an accurate assessment. Christie was making the daily commute to New West, taking the freeway home

each day about 6:00 pm. At that time, I was just getting off shift and driving down the freeway. One particular day, the cold October wind and a mixture of icy rain had made the highway quite slick. I had had a stressful day at work and decided to turn off the highway and take the back scenic route, where I could drive a little slower and de-stress before getting home. As I drove I maneuverer around the gentle corners, taking in the comfort of the old farmhouses, and the cows and horses mingling in the fields. That’s when I first sensed something was wrong. I had just approached the old wooden bridge that crossed the creek when my head started tingling, and a feeling of emergency pulled me out of my peaceful headspace. My throat felt dry and my eyes started to water. I was holding back tears. Something was terribly wrong. A feeling of terror fell over me and I felt like I was about to witness a terrible accident. Scared, I slowed the car while trying to focus on the road. Suddenly it occurred to me: Christie! In an urgency to find my friend, I stepped on the gas pedal and drove the last five kilometers in a state of panic. Pulling the car up in front of my house, I quickly turned off the ignition, ran inside and searched for the phone. My partner, who was home, asked what was wrong. I told him Christie was in a vehicle accident up the highway. “Oh no! Did you witness the accident?” “No, I felt it.” I started pacing the floor back and forth, thinking of all the horrific possibilities. Surely she is alive, surely I would feel if she were dead, wouldn’t I? “What do you mean you felt it? You didn’t see it?” He watched me intensely as I barrelled around the room and searched for the phone. I needed to call her. “No. I was on the back road driving, but I know she is in an accident.” “Wait, wait. How do you know she is in an accident?” “Oh, for Christ’s sake, shut up while I call her house!” Finally having found the phone, I fumbled as I tried to dial her number, my heart pounding and my hands shaking. “Stop asking me stupid questions for a moment,” I pleaded with him. “Please!”

The phone rang and rang but there was no answer. I tried again and again, but there was still no answer. I couldn’t call the hospital. They would think I was crazy. Maybe she wasn’t in an accident. If she had been, someone would be at her house answering calls. No, I thought. It’s too soon for that. I sat staring at the clock. If I was right, the accident would have occurred around 6:30-7:00 pm. It was now only 7:30. I waited, starting to doubt myself. Maybe I overreacted. Maybe it was just a bad feeling and a stupid thought. I tried to call again but there was no answer. By 8:00 pm, my fear started to subside. I had a couple smokes, called again, but there was still no answer. At 9:00 pm, I gave up and started to do the dishes to preoccupy myself. At 9:30 pm there was a knock on my door. I was shaking as I went to answer it. Slowly, I opened the door, expecting the worst. I expected someone to be standing there, about to give me some bad news. But I was wrong. It was Christie. I looked into her big brown eyes and almost broke down in tears, “Oh my God,” I said, “I am so glad you are here. I thought you got into a vehicle accident, and I have been calling your house all night.” Christie started to cry. “I did get into a car accident, that’s why I am here.” Confused, I said I didn’t understand. She looked fine. She had no physical injuries, but emotionally she was a wreck. I urged her into the kitchen and sat her at the table, encouraging her to explain what happened. “I was driving home with three other girls from the Justice Institute and the roads were really bad. A white van started to my car and the car ahead of me. I looking at his bald tires as he ed, telling the girls he was an idiot to be driving that fast, given the road conditions. A second later, I saw the white van try to pull back into the slow lane in front of the car ahead. The driver lost control and the van went over the embankment, the car in front hit the brakes and slid sideways. It was too icy to slow down. I tried, but slammed into the car in front. My car turned 180 degrees, facing oncoming traffic. I lifted my legs and turned my body towards the enger, telling her to do the same thing. Facing each other, we closed our eyes and heard the impact as three other cars hit us and spun our car all over the road. Finally we stopped moving. The two girls in the back, although shaken, said they were fine. We were all dazed and in

shock. We sat in the car until paramedics arrived and were sent to the hospital to be checked out, and then cleared to go home.” Christie said her husband picked her up at the hospital and told her she had to drive. He said she had to get over the shock and had to drive right away. Christie said she couldn’t so he drove her home. Then she forced herself to drive the short distance to my house, just to prove she could still drive. After Christie stopped talking and we both stopped crying, she asked me if I saw the accident. I started laughing thinking of the conversation I just had with my partner. “No, I felt you.” “You did?” she cried. “Of course I did. You’re like my sister.” She didn’t question me further. She knew I could sense things. She was a soul mate. Soul mates are not restricted to romantic partnerships. Soul mates can exist within any relationship we have with life energies, whether it’s with blood relations, friends or our pets. Together, we enrich each other’s spirits. We hold a knowing, a sense that we are from the same star. It does not matter if we have opposite beliefs, or if we are extroverts or introverts. We feel spellbound when we are with each other. When we are far away, we still feel each other, even in death. Soul mates feel like they meet repeatedly, lifetime after lifetime for all eternity, because our soul is not limited to time and space. They make each other laugh and cry, and the relationship is intense and fulfilling. Sometimes there is confusion and we think we are in love, but there is a difference between in love and love. Love is selflessness. There is no expectation, or sexual gratitude. We can love as an individual without partnership. We love without judging faults or compromising. We know that the energy is something bigger. It is a beauty that byes any physical attractions and reaches deep within our heart. This love we feel for soul mates is the same love our higher selves try to convey to our lower physical self. The truest form of love is for ourselves. Because our soul is cosmic, there is no separation.

We recognize this feeling in our soul mates, and blend our energies with them, realizing we are the same source. It is our reminder, a hint of where we come from, and it is our universal connectedness.

Code Yellow

With all my experiences since I met Wind, life was getting hectic. I was still working shifts as a full time correctional officer, and also doing pendulum and tarot card readings. I wasn’t advertising this type of spirit work but my friends were starting to quietly spread the word. Many asked me to help them find solutions to some of their problems, so I had become a sort of counsellor as well. My phone was ringing off the hook and I couldn’t keep up with all the enquiries. I turned a small bedroom into a meditation, reading and healing room. I was exhausted, working sixteen hours a day and having visions as I slept. Every now and then, I would hook up with friends and go out partying. But that, too, had turned into late night impromptu sessions of spiritual enquiries. I couldn’t get away from it. My life was completely changing. I had a few intuitive incidents in my role as a correctional officer. I was sensing inmates’ moods before major incidents happened and was preventing situations from occurring more than I itted to my co-workers. I knew when a guard was about to breach her duty. I knew when a riot was going to start before all hell broke loose. My intuition was so heightened it was making it impossible to prevent my co-workers from figuring out that I had acquired this strange gift. I had a healthy, trusting relationship with my co-workers and I didn’t want that to change. I didn’t want to be perceived as weird or unstable in any sense. So I hid my talents as long as I could. However, my abilities were bigger than my efforts to stifle them. One late afternoon, a year after being transferred to Port Coquitlam Remand Centre, I was working in Alpha East when I called a Code yellow. That call would be the main factor in my decision to resign as a corrections officer. I started my twelve-hour shift at 7:00 am, working alone with an inmate count of

fifty. The unit was open concept, three tiers high with ten double bunked rooms on each tier. There was also one open shower on each deck, hidden only by a single half brick wall for privacy. The common area consisted of an open foyer with tables for meals, games, cards or watching TV. There was a small exercise room with a candy machine just off the foyer. The unit had a live camera that was watched and recorded by a central control officer. In the morning, after breakfast and room inspection, inmates could freely roam the foyer common area and exercise room. There were designated times for lockdowns, during which all the inmates were locked in their shared rooms while unit officers took their breaks. It was policy to complete half hour checks on all three tiers for security and safety reasons. At 4:00 pm, I was just about to do another unit check when a correctional staff member came to my unit and said he would give me a break from climbing the steps and do the unit check for me. I was grateful, as my knees were getting a bit stiff. I told him I would check the main floor if he would do the upper two tiers. The officer had completed the second floor check and was approaching the top of the third tier. Meanwhile, I had just completed the lower foyer check and was walking towards the exercise room when I felt all the hairs on my arms stand up and a feeling of alarm in my body. I immediately spun around and started running across the foyer back towards the stairs leading to the two tiers above. As my foot hit the first step, I reached for my radio and sent the alert. “Code yellow, Code yellow. Alpha East. Back up needed!” I didn’t know what was about to happen but I felt something was terribly wrong. A second or two after I called in the code, the corrections officer doing the check on the third tier witnessed an inmate run into the shower area and start stabbing another inmate with a shaved pen. Everything seemed to happen simultaneously, the two inmates were slipping on the wet floor, rolling around and fighting. The male officer was yelling, “Stop the fight!” He then pulled out his pepper spray just as I landed on the third tier to back him up. “Lock up, lock up,” I shouted. “Lock up” was an order for all inmates on the unit to immediately go to their cells and shut their doors, which locked them in their rooms. Inmates who failed to follow this order could be internally charged. Sanctions could include a twenty-four hour lock-up, being moved to a segregation unit or losing parole. Therefore, within seconds of the code being called, all the other forty-eight inmates were locked in their cells. Twelve other correctional officers had also responded and were on the unit making sure doors were locked and helping to

break up the fight. Soon, the two inmates were handcuffed and taken off the unit. One was brought to segregation and the other to the nursing station. When the commotion was over, I went back downstairs to my desk and sat, shaking and uncomfortable, with adrenalin pulsing through my body. I was given a break to calm myself before writing the incident report. When I turned in my report at the end of my shift, the control officer asked if he could have a word with me. A couple other officers stood by, staring at me strangely. “Sure thing,” I replied. “What’s up?” “How did you know the fight was going to happen?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. “What do you mean?” “Well, you called the code…before the fight.” “What?” “We have it recorded on tape. You were walking across the foyer, away from the stairs. Then you turned and ran back towards the stairs, calling the code.” “Well, I felt it,” I replied. “What do you mean you ‘felt it’?” “I don’t know,” I said “I just did.” I turned to walk away, overwhelmed by the explanation that felt bigger than me, and bigger than everything. The officer yelled after me, “We heard you were psychic!” I didn’t respond. I was too emotional and wanted to control my feelings in front of the guys. I entered the change room, grabbed my purse from my locker, signed in my radio and keys and headed home. I decided it was time to change careers, but left my decision up to the guidance of Wind.

Earthquake

My hands continued to shape shift. I felt I was supposed to do something with them, so one day I picked up the pen and tried writing. In my head I heard a voice say, “Know nothing.” I then realized that Wind was telling me to clear my mind. I closed my eyes and just held the pen lightly in my right hand. I concentrated on the mantra, “know nothing,” and repeated it over and over for about two minutes. Then I felt an energy slightly guiding the side of my forearm. My arm began to gently flow back and forth, and from side to side. I put the pen to paper. Slowly, with the energy pushing my arm, I began to move the pen. I felt a light tug of energy at the tip of the pen and tried to allow myself to follow the pull. I did this for days, drawing squiggly lines that looked like a back road map. Every couple of inches or so, the pen would pull and I would make a circular dot. It was like a map was being marked. I didn’t understand what I was drawing. Sometimes, the drawings looked like land maps and sometimes like star systems. Occasionally, I drew symbols, like the infinity symbol, and then I attached a map to the symbol. When that happened, I heard a voice say, “We are way over here.” I then fell asleep with bright colours flashing in my mind. One particular night, I heard a voice say, “This is how we are communicating to you.” Then I saw a wave of energy. It was a black fluid, rippling like the ocean’s waves and flowing through the dark universe towards the Earth. I somehow knew what they were showing me. I didn’t know or understand who they were, but it didn’t matter. I just accepted that I was being used as a channel, and I felt calm and safe. One afternoon, after a night shift, I woke up to the familiar feeling of tugging in my palms and my hands shape shifting. I got out of bed at about 2:00 pm and went to the kitchen table. I pulled out a paper and picked up a pen. This time, my hands looked more like an old woman’s hands than a man’s, long and bony with slightly curled fingers. I put pen to paper and started to draw. I channel drew a small map and then the pen started making circular points. This time, I guessed that the points represented fault lines. Tired, I left the map I had drawn on the kitchen table and crawled back into bed at 6:00 pm. As I lay in bed, I pondered whether I had just drawn an earthquake. Immediately, my bed started to shake. I quickly sat straight up in bed. “Holy shit! I drew a damn earthquake!”

I lay back down and asked where and when the earthquake occurred. I heard a voice say, “Set your alarm to 8:00 pm.” I didn’t understand the answer, but I complied and drifted off to sleep. A couple of hours later, I woke to the sound of my alarm, which was pre-set to the radio. The news was reporting a 6.4 earthquake in Morocco. My eyes popped open and I started kicking the blankets, trying to get out of bed. Frantically, I tried to escape the knot of sheets around my wild limbs. Upon freeing myself, I ran to the living room and looked at the map. It just looked like a bunch of lines and dots. Shaking, I called my girlfriend and told her to get her ass over to my house straight away. By this time, my girlfriend knew all about my unusual experiences, which she thought were pretty cool. Not ten minutes later she walked through my front doors, looked at me in my pyjamas and walked to my kitchen table. “What is it?” she asked. I told her about the earthquake, the map I had drawn last night and the orders I had been given. We set out to investigate, researching maps of Morocco on the computer. After printing a map and laying it across the kitchen table, we stared in awe at the replica that was my drawing “Holy smokes,” she gasped. “You drew Morocco.” We looked at each other and smiled. I know that an earthquake is nothing to smile about, but I felt validated. I wasn’t crazy! The problem with drawing fault lines is that I didn’t understand the forms on the map. When you look at just one community and a back road map with all the squiggly lines, you have to know what you are looking for. I covered my living room floor with paper, and for a few days, I channel-drew maps using the full space. Eventually, I got really frustrated. What good was this damn gift if I couldn’t even explain the maps, where the quakes would occur, or what time the events would happen. I rolled up the paper and forgot about drawing. There was no one to help interpret and I wasn’t a geologist. I couldn’t exactly call a geologist and say, “Hey, I have these maps I channelled. Want to come check them out?” From then on, when my hands changed, I would just doodle whatever came through, like little pictures of tidal waves, circles, figure eights typhoons and sometimes faces of other planetary beings. It was about this time in my unusual life that I decided to pursue a more definite spiritual path. Since I had discovered a new ion and an unexplainable gift, I

decided to open a metaphysical bookstore. With a bookstore, I could read and sell books, and meet likeminded people.

Volcanoes

Christie called and said she wanted to meet me at my new bookstore for coffee. Excited to show her my shop, I happily agreed to meet up with her the next day. I had painted the shop a light brown leather textured paint with one bright orange wall and a couple teal shaded walls. In the book area, I placed a large lush Egyptian rug, a deep mahogany antique door that I used as a table, beautiful wooden chairs and rich earthy tapestries. There was also a reading room, a healing room, and a lovely meditation room with pictures of the chakras on the walls. I had a mixture of excitement, pride and fear at the start of this new adventure and couldn’t wait to share it with Christie. The day we agreed to meet, I woke up to bright blue skies and hopped in my red BMW. On the drive to work, I noticed a crow standing on the sidewalk. It was staring up at the sky with its mouth wide open. It was a peculiar pose, and the crow seemed to be frozen in time. I had heard that crows do this sometimes when it’s really hot out. But I had a weird sensation, like the crow was giving me a sign. Driving past him, I turned a slight corner in and a three-foot dust ball blew across the street in front of me. “What is going on now?” I said out loud. I continued driving the five minutes to work with my senses heightened. I pulled up in the parking lot, and as I stepped out of the car, I felt a slight breeze and rain drizzle in the air. I stood in the centre of the parking lot and looked down at my hands. My veins were protruded and I felt like drops of rain were falling on my hands. But looking to the sky, I couldn’t see any sign of rain. It was hot and sunny. “Weird,” I thought. I felt the breeze shift again, and then it felt like water was running down my face. I reached my hands up to touch my face but it was dry. The wet sensations started to swirl around my head. Then I had an instant thought: tornado. My girlfriend was standing at the store entrance watching me.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “There’s going to be a tornado.” I announced. She laughed, “We never get tornados in the lower mainland.” I laughed back at her. “Never say never, because we are getting a tornado today.” A couple of hours later, we heard on the news that the Lynn Valley area was hit with a small tornado. “Ha!” I said. Christie stared at me with wide eyes, “Man, you just keep freaking me out.” “You and me both, my friend,” I replied.

In October 2004, I was working when Christie dropped in for a visit. I had a small table set up outside for smoke breaks. We went outside to sit and chat when I had the sensation of hot, wet, sticky liquid flowing from the crown of my head and down my back. Abruptly, I jumped up from the chair and began feeling my back for moisture. “What the hell is running out of my head and down my back?” Christie, now accustomed to my strangeness, looked at the top of my head and ran her eyes down my back shaking her head. “There’s nothing on your head or your back,” she replied. “Well, look under my shirt.” I pulled my shirt up, frantically. “I can feel liquid. It’s hot and sticky. And I think my head is bleeding.” Confused, Christie looked again, but closer this time. She moved my hair and looked under my shirt. “Lorene, there is nothing there.” “Well, what the hell?” I said. “I can feel it.” The store phone rang and I ran inside to answer it. Another friend of mine was on the line and asked, “Hey, did you hear the news?”

“What news?” I was still running my fingers along my ‘sticky’ head. “Mount St. Helen’s is blowing off some steam and might erupt,” she responded. I stop rubbing my head. “Holy shit. I felt it on my head.” “What!?” she asked confused. I explained what had just happened to me. “Oh, wow! I was wondering if you knew. That’s why I called.” I was already known locally for predicting weather events. Well, I thought, it’s not just earthquakes and tornados I feel. Now what? “Be patient,” Wind would say. It was easy for her to say. She already knew the future. I didn’t.

Mapping with a Pendulum

Pretty soon, word of my abilities was getting out in the local community. People started asking if I could find lost people, objects and pets. I decided that using my pendulum over a map was the best way to do this. In fact, I located my neighbour’s lost dog using a street map. I pulled out a map of the area and swung the pendulum over the map. The pendulum started to circle on a side street a couple of streets down from where the dog went missing. I told my neighbour to go to the street identified by the pendulum and knock on the neighbours’ doors. She did as I instructed and found her dog. A lady on the street had seen the dog wandering around the neighbourhood and took the animal into her home, rather than call the SPCA. On another occasion, a murder occurred in our small community and the police were trying to locate the killer. On a Monday morning, my friend suggested I use the pendulum to find him. The pendulum swung back and forth above a local

map, and then circled the location where the person was hiding. We decided the police were looking in the wrong direction, so we drove out to look for him ourselves. We were just about to turn down the road where we thought he may be when another friend was driving past us in his truck. Our friend pulled over and asked what we were doing. We told him about the pendulum and he laughed, astonished. “And what happens if you find the killer?” In the excitement of it all, we hadn’t thought of the details. Here we were, two girls driving around in the country looking for a killer with a gun. Did I think we could honestly talk to him, and that he would listen? As the realization of the situation hit us, we agreed to go home and let the cops do their job (despite the fact that we suspected they were in the wrong area). We went home and I used the pendulum again to determine which day he would be found. The answer was Wednesday. The very next day, I was asked to meet a friend at a restaurant that I rarely frequented. I was waiting for my friend to show up, and a man wearing a long black coat walked past me towards the exit. He put his hand on the door, looked at me and asked, “Do you have something to tell me?” I recognized the man as the chief investigator looking for the felon. I wondered why he would ask me if I had something to tell him. Then I heard a voice say, “You should tell him.” But I couldn’t tell him. He would think I helped the felon somehow. But the internal message continued to push me to share what I had discovered. Despite the voice’s urging, I looked the investigator in the eyes and said, “No, I’m just waiting for a friend.” He pulled open the door, hesitated, looked back at me and asked, “Are you sure there is nothing you want to tell me?” The voice in my head was screaming at me to tell him. “No, nothing,” I replied. He walked out and glanced back over his shoulder before the door swung shut. What if I had told him and the location turned out to be wrong? I sat, shaking. How did he know I might know something? The voice in my head replied, “Because he, too, is gifted.”

Time Travel

When I was in my early and late teens, I sometimes had a feeling of lost time. I would be getting ready to go to bed and then wake up in the morning, not ing actually getting into bed. This was an unsettling feeling. Although I thought it was something more than forgetfulness, I would just conclude that I was really tired, or make some other excuse. Sometimes, I would wake up fully dressed, with a strange taste in my mouth, like blood or the after effects of an electrical charge. I had a vague feeling of having conversations with people while I was sleeping; yet I could never the discussions. The harder I tried to , the more frustrated I would get, until I had to conclude that I had just been dreaming. Then, when I was seventeen, a strange thing happened. I was working the late afternoon shift at Michael’s Pizzeria in Summerside, PEI. At 3:00 am, after cleaning and prepping for the next day’s opening, the cook, delivery driver and I closed the pizzeria and headed home. Danny, the delivery guy said he would give me a ride home so I didn’t have to walk twenty minutes alone at night. I liked walking, and Summerside was a very safe community. I never felt I was in danger. Nonetheless, I accepted the offer, as my feet were sore from standing all night. We chatted on the car ride home. I had moved away from home at the young age of fifteen. I felt I was very independent and able to fend for myself. At seventeen years old, I had just moved in with a new roommate. She was away at her friend’s place the night Danny drove me home from work. Danny waited in the car while he watched me climb the twenty steps up to my little apartment. I opened the door and waved goodbye at approximately 3:10 am. Danny lived close to my mom’s house, about a five to seven minute car ride (or a twenty minute walk) away. When he got home, he shut off his car and walked into his house. His telephone rang. When Danny answered his phone, he heard my mom’s voice on the other end. My mom started asking him a jumble of questions. “Did you just drop Lorene

off at my house? Is she sick? What’s wrong with her?” Danny, confused, asked my mom what she was talking about. He said he had just come from dropping me off at my apartment. My mom explained that I was sitting in her kitchen, at the table, and nonresponsive. “That’s impossible,” Danny replied. “I just dropped her off five minutes ago, and I watched her walk into her apartment and close the door behind her.” “Maybe she got a taxi here,” My mom proposed. Danny explained that unless the taxi was right behind him, I would not have had the time. He was worried, so he told my mom he would come over and try to talk to me. In the meantime, my mom called the taxi company and they said no one drove me home. Summerside is a small town where everyone knows everyone. The taxi garage was right next door to the pizza shop. Sometimes, I went there to get a candy bar out of the vending machine, so I knew all the taxi drivers quite well. No one knew how I got to my mother’s house, and Mom said I looked like I was sleepwalking. But I didn’t have the time to walk to her house. Furthermore, her front door was locked and I didn’t have a key. The next morning, I woke up in my apartment, fully dressed and on the couch. I rolled over to see Danny sitting in the armchair watching me intently. Immediately, I knew something wasn’t right. I looked at him and said, “Something bad happened last night, didn’t it?” “Well, not bad. But very strange, yes.” Danny then told me the story. He said he went to my mom’s house but I wouldn’t talk to him. He gently took my arm and got me to stand, then he walked me to his car and told my mom he would take me home and stay with me all night. He said he sat, watching me, afraid I might vanish before his eyes. Danny said he just couldn’t understand how I got to my mom’s so quickly. Even if I ran all the way I couldn’t have beat him there. I laughed. He was a really nice fellow and didn’t judge me at all.

I called my mom that day. She was worried. She said something had woken her up in the night. When she got up to get a glass of water, she found me sitting at her kitchen table, staring off into space. She knew I had worked that night, so when she asked why I was at her house and I didn’t answer, she called Danny to see if he had driven me there. Mom thought I was sleepwalking. But as far as anyone knew, I had never sleepwalked before, not even as a kid. It was unnerving for me to not know how I got to her house in so little time. Yet, somehow I knew the answer was somewhere within me. Twenty years later, my girlfriend and I decided to take a road trip to a small resort that was two and a half hours outside Merritt, BC. We left Mission early in the morning and arrived in Merritt around noon. We found a cute little metaphysical shop and decided to get a card reading. We paid for individual readings at the front till, and the clerk let the card reader know there were two customers. A young man walked out of a curtained area in the back of the shop. My girlfriend went for her reading first. I browsed around and bought a couple of trinkets. When my girlfriend came out, she said the psychic was really good. I was excited, as things in my life were changing and I had just opening my own metaphysical shop. When I walked into the little room, the psychic motioned for me to sit down. He was watching me as I looked around the room. It was quite a small room, maybe 4 x 4 feet, just enough to fit a table and two chairs. The long drapes were dark purple velvet and very warming, making the atmosphere cozy and comforting. I felt relaxed and ready to begin. I looked at the young man and he smiled. He said he felt a wind blow by him, and that he sensed a female guide within me. He asked that I shuffle the cards, and as I was shuffling, the psychic talked excitedly. He said that he saw books all around me, and that my life purpose was to write. I told him I was a reader, not a writer. He said it didn’t matter, and that I would definitely write. He had seen a navy blue book, and then many more to follow. In addition to writing, I would also travel the world. This information, although farfetched, was nonetheless intriguing. I recalled a university professor years ago telling me I should write, that I had a way of relaying my feelings. Being from PEI, I knew I culturally used a lot of slang, so English was not my forte. Yet, I loved books and reading, so I thought that must be what he was seeing. Books had always been my saviours. They were an escape from boredom, a stress release, and a safe place as I moved back and forth in the author’s time.

When the reading was complete my girlfriend, the psychic and I went outside for a smoke. That’s when the psychic told my girlfriend, “Your friend will be famous, and she doesn’t even know it.” I laughed, but my friend looked at me and said, “She already is and doesn’t even know it.” She was not talking about the fame that brings money and acknowledgement. Rather, she was talking about inner fame, a gift that one honours and finds only within themselves. After the smoke break, my girlfriend and I thanked the psychic and continued our road trip. The resort was located in the woods, with trails and chirping birds surrounding it. It was a solitude we greatly appreciated. In a charming log house, we visited the older couple that owned the resort. We rose early to homemade breakfast and superb coffee. The weekend was relaxing and rejuvenating, which was exactly what I needed. We talked about the existence of time, how we felt time was human created concept, and how time didn’t exist in the spiritual realms. We concluded that Spirit could be in all places, at all times. On Sunday morning we said our goodbyes and started the drive back home. We left the resort at 9:00 am thinking, we would arrive in Merritt in time for lunch. The road there was quite windy, and there were beautiful views of rolling hills, lakes and farm areas. My girlfriend and I were discussing our stay at the resort when we, again, arrived at the subject of time travel. She said she didn’t really understand the concept of time. I was trying to explain how we could just move through time using our minds. I said, when I was a kid, I was pretty sure I could time travel without understanding the concept. I told her about some of my memory losses and how I thought they were related to time, and that I somehow felt I traveled places without ing them. I said I always felt like I was traveling places to be shown or taught things, but I couldn’t recall the discussions or information received. My girlfriend thought that was impossible. But I was adamant that we had the capability to time travel. I explained that scientists are always looking at the concept of time, trying to figure out how it works in relation to the universe. I figured that the time machine was held within the energy of our thoughts. I rationalized that our souls were the time machine. My friend chuckled. “You’re so funny.”

We were going back and forth on this conversation for about an hour before I started to slow the car down to see where we were. We stopped at an intersection. I looked at my friend. “Do you know where we are?” “No,” she replied. We looked at the sign on the highway in front of us. The arrow pointed left for Merritt. “Did we the lake and hill side on that narrow section of the road?” I asked. “I don’t ,” she replied. “Well it’s only 10:00 am. We can’t be at the highway yet.” Nevertheless, we turned left and entered Merritt only a few minutes later. My friend looked at me, astonished, and said “Sometimes you really scare the crap out of me.” I laughed, “See, I told you. Time travel really is possible. It’s all just a matter of perception.”

Chapter 6 Future Visions from Wind

After another unsuccessful relationship I was once again trying the dating game and had temporarily moved in with a guy. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be working out. I was getting really tired of being around people in general, and men in particular. I wanted some space to figure out what was happening to me. In fact, I was thinking of moving to the country. Maybe I’d rent a cabin and just meditate. One day, I was lying in bed feeling lost and unclear about my future, and trying to practice the art of positive thinking. Pushing myself to feel empowered I jumped out of bed and ran to the deck in the back yard. I threw my hands up to the night sky and yelled, “Okay, okay, you got me, I surrender. I give up on all men and relationships. I am done, Creator, I am really done! I will walk my own path and stand on my own two feet. I will do this.” I didn’t care if the neighbours heard me yelling to the empty sky. It felt so damn good to get it all out. Feeling the best I had in a long time, I swore I would fulfill my new commitment. With my adrenalin pumping, I went back inside, jumped into bed, pulled up the covers and closed my eyes. As I lay in bed, I saw a small flash of white light in my mind’s eye. Wind was in front of me, standing on some stairs inside someone’s house. I followed her. By then, I knew that when Wind wanted to show me something, it was best I shut up and follow her. As I observed my surroundings, I notice artwork on the walls. Then, I found myself floating above the house. I could see that it was on acreage close to a busy secondary highway. I looked at Wind and said, “I am not moving to a house on a busy road, no way. Forget it.” Wind gave me her sincere but stern look that always made me feel like a child, so I stopped protesting. Still floating above, I saw a big tree in the yard with a second tree wrapped around it. The trees looked glued together, reaching high in the air and full of green leaves. It was a beautiful sight. All of a sudden, there was another small flash of white light, and I was standing

on a sandy beach with Wind. Our backs were to the water, and in front of me was the most beautiful home. The house was two storeys, with a big wrap around deck facing the ocean. I noticed stairs descending from the edge of the front lawn, all the way down to the beach. There were about twenty steps. Turning to my left, I looked at Wind and telepathically asked her, “Whose house is this then?” Wind looked at me softly and telepathically replied, “This is your house.” I stared at her a moment, letting that reply sink in. I looked back at the house in disbelief. “No way,” I said. “Impossible.” Immediately, I knew I was in trouble. Wind looked disapprovingly at me, shaking her head. I tried to apologize, saying, “Sorry, it won’t happen again.” But the apology was too late. Wind vanished and my vision was gone. I cursed myself for doubting her. Two days later, I packed a few belongings and moved into a small apartment. I left behind all my notes, maps, and the majority of my personal items. I figured I could start fresh, with a clear mind and heart. Freedom felt amazing, and I promised myself that with it would come more faith in Wind and my abilities.

Chapter 7 Power Animals and Shape Shifting

Medicine Man

One day, a medicine man sought me out. He heard that my hands would shape shift and he wanted to talk to me. I had a day off, so I was sleeping in when a message came through as a clear echo in my mind: “Three men are coming to see you.” I jumped out of bed and called the shop to ask my employee, Kalie, if any men had shown up looking for me. Hesitantly, she said, “No, why?” I told her to tell them to wait if they arrived, and that I would be right there. Hurriedly, I got dressed and drove the five minutes to the shop. “Who is coming?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I replied, “but it’s important.” Within an hour, three men walked into the shop. I recognized one of them, and had come to learn his name was Joe. Joe had come in about a month earlier and tapped the top on my right hand, saying, “I saw you draw last night.” I had looked at him and asked how he knew. It was unnerving because my hands had changed just the night before, and I had drawn a map of fault lines. Joe was a ‘seer’ as well, he said. He explained that I appeared in his dreams and showed him what I could do. He had said I was anointed, in service to God. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but was gratified that someone else could see what I was doing. Joe had brought two men with him. One of them, Glen, was an Aboriginal medicine man. The other was Glen’s son, who had just come into town for the drive. The medicine man welcomed me to them for a drive. Normally, I would have declined, but I made an exception and agreed to . Before I could leave, Kalie cornered me behind the till. “You can’t leave with

them. You don’t know them or know where they are taking you.” “It’s fine,” I said. “I was told by Wind to go with them, so I’ll be safe.” We drove about twenty minutes out of town to Glen’s house. The other two other men walked off and left Glen and I alone. Glen explained that he could speak sixteen languages and had done some star chart work for NASA. He showed me some pyramid shaped maps he had made and tried to explain that each star system leaves a pattern on the Earth. I was very ignorant about this and couldn’t really follow anything he was talking about. He asked if I was born gifted. When I explained that my shifting hands had just started to occur within the past year, he was amazed. He said that I would eventually write about the beginning of time. Eventually, Glen led me to a small lab. He explained that he followed vibrations made from the sounds of different birds, and that the vibrational notes created a sort of communication that he could interpret. He also talked about how insects, like butterflies, would eat certain foods to make medicine. He explained how he followed the insects’ patterns to figure out what medicines cured which diseases. Glen also explained how to prepare a cleansing for anyone who needed to be healed from negative energy. This sacred ceremony involved white cloth, plants and human DNA, which were offered to the great spirits for healing, cleansing and forgiveness. I felt honoured that he trusted me enough to share his knowledge with me. Glen eventually asked if I wanted to travel with him to learn the medicines. Despite my urge to say yes, I had to decline. I had just opened my business and it was the wrong timing. I thanked him for his time and turned to walk to the car, where Joe was waiting to drive me back to town. Glen yelled out after me, “Don’t worry about the owl.” All the hair stood straight up on the back of my neck and I slowly turned to face him. “What?” I asked. “You know, the owl incident a while back,” he replied. Stunned, I recalled the incident from five years ago. “How could you possibly know about that?” I asked. Defensively, I repeated

what I had said to the yard officer way back then: “I didn’t do anything.” Glen smiled, “You don’t have to do anything. You are so well protected no one will be able to hurt you. You will be protected, and one day you will wake up.” He snapped his fingers. “And just like that, you will know exactly what you came here to do.” “I don’t understand,” I replied. “No, you don’t. Not yet. But you will,” he turned his back to me and walked towards his house. On the drive back into town, I sat quietly in the car trying to make sense of the day’s events. But at the time, I just didn’t understand.

Naming Vision

For several weeks, I felt a strong urgency to a shaman and ask him to hold a naming ceremony for me. I had met a shaman who said that he would take me on a vision quest and hold a naming ceremony for me. I hadn’t seen him since I attended one of his star dome ceremonies awhile back, so I felt uncomfortable calling him and asking for an individualized ceremony. I felt shy about requesting such an important ceremony for myself and thought I would offend the shaman because I hadn’t taken him up on the offer earlier. Still, Spirit assured me the shaman would not be offended if I called. Stubbornly, I continued to argue with myself that I didn’t have the right to call him and take him up on his previous offer. Yet, each night before I fell asleep, I received the message from Spirit that the naming ceremony was important. But I stood my ethical ground and decided I didn’t need a name and wasn’t going to call the shaman. A couple of nights later, I had a vivid dream. There was a man and a woman standing in front of me. The Caucasian couple were ordinary, and looked to be in their fifties. They both wore plain clothing, and had light brown hair. Neither had glowing auras or anything unusual about them, but the woman was holding something wrapped in a blanket. In the vision, I stepped a little closer to see

what I thought was a baby. I was surprised to see a tiny grey owl. “Oh my, a baby owl,” I said, stepping back in awe. The woman looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Yes, a baby owl. A sleeping owl.” As both the man and woman looked at me, I repeated, “A Sleeping Owl.” “Yes,” the couple replied. “Sleeping Owl is your name.” My eyes flew open and I sat up in bed. Spirit had come into my dreams and named me Sleeping Owl. At the time, I didn’t take into the significance of the name. Later, I would recall the Aboriginal medicine man saying, “One day, you will wake up and know what you have come to do.” Then the message hit me. A sleeping baby owl holds some forgotten wisdom, and is not fully awake. A full week later, I had a second vision of the same couple. This time, I could hear a man talking to them. I couldn’t fully see him because he was standing behind the couple, but there was a soft aura, like a gentle light flowing around him. I heard the man tell the couple, “Put the third cross on her.” I looked down and noticed two necklaces hanging around my neck, each adorned with two inch gold crosses. The couple, holding a third necklace with a larger cross, hesitated. The man in the background said, louder, “Put the third cross on her. She is the eighth.” The couple looked rather shocked but obeyed and placed the necklace over my head. I opened my eyes and wondered what ‘the eighth’ meant, and why there were three crosses. There had to be a message in the vision. It would be a few years before I understood the significance.

Manifesting what I Read

I started to look for books that explained shape shifting, shamanism and mediumship. I sought out anything that could help explain what was happening to me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any sources that explained the ability to physically change the structure of the human body. Learning more about physical mediumship was the closest I came to understanding my experiences, as

I could relate to the ability to transfer my vision, sounds and thoughts to others. In mental mediumship, by contrast, only the medium can experience the spirit and then they relay the message to the client. But even physical mediumship didn’t explain the physical changes that were happening to my hands. I could not find a single text by a person whose hands changed shape, and it was really frustrating. During all my searching and reading, I noticed a new pattern of manifestation that was forming. In my first year of meeting Wind, it seemed that whenever I read something, I would have an immediate experience related to what I had just read. For example, if I read a story about visits from spirit children, I would start to have experiences with children. One evening, I fell asleep thinking about spirit children. At 3:00 am, I woke to the loud noise of someone knocking on my bedroom door. In my mind’s eye, I saw a five-year-old girl on the other side of the door. I rolled over in bed and shook my friend, who had spent the night. “Do you hear that?” I asked. “If you mean someone knocking on the bedroom door, then yes, I hear it.” “It’s a spirit child,” I explained. “They can be teachers too.” Annoyed, my friend said, “Who cares who or what spirit it is. Make it stop. I need sleep.” Frustrated, I closed my eyes, thanked the spirit for coming to me and asked her to go away. The knocking stopped and I never heard or saw her again. One night, I was reading about Egyptian history and how scarab beetles were an important religious symbol. I was intrigued by all the unique world beliefs that were so different from Western societies. I fell asleep, and again in the middle of the night, something woke me. I looked around the bedroom and didn’t see or hear anything. I rolled over on my side and was about to close my eyes and go back to sleep, when I saw movement on the bedroom window frame. I opened my eyes wide and watched a few gigantic scarabs crawling around the frame. Frightened, I quickly sat up in bed and watched as, one by one, they slowly disappeared. This is impossible! I thought. But I wasn’t dreaming. I knew I saw scarabs and I was getting worried about reading anything spiritual before bed.

I believe Wind was showing me my power. I was being taught about my ability to create a specific reality based on my beliefs. I continued to read a variety of spiritual and historical books, and I continued to have similar experiences after each chapter. I reported my experiences to Dr. Daas. He told me to make sure I recorded the times and dates of each strange occurrence.

Spiders and Shape Shifting

My next experience occurred on November 11th, at 1:11 am. That night, something woke me. I looked around the room and saw nothing. But I soon sensed movement above me. I looked at the ceiling and saw a gigantic spider sitting there. This thing was about one foot long by one and a half feet wide with its legs extended. Slightly dazed from just waking, I focused and noted that it had an orange belly that looked to be made of silk. When my vision fully ed, I was terrified and attempted to make sense of what was happening. Then the spider moved. I wasn’t sure if the damn thing was going to jump on me, but I was pretty sure I would have a massive heart attack if it did. I watched as it shuffled sideways towards the far wall to my left. I lay frozen in fear as my eyes followed its every movement. The spider pushed up against the ceiling into the corner of the wall and faded until it disappeared. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. Dr. Daas asked me what the significance of the date was. I didn’t know. “What’s on November 11?” he persisted. “Oh,” I realized, “it was Remembrance Day.” He told me to think about that, but I didn’t understand what a spider had to do with Remembrance Day. Dr. Daas gave me clues, but never answers. A month or so later, I started researching spider totems on the internet and talking to my Aboriginal friends. I learned that spiders bring messages of creativity, especially for writers. They are the weavers of the fabric of life energy. An Aboriginal elder told me that the spider ‘woman’ was here at the

dawn of creation and she tells stories of the past and the future. What intrigued me most about Wind’s message was that the fabric on the spider was orange. The sacral chakra is orange and that chakra represents creativity. I went on a holiday with a friend of mine to Playa Del Carmen, Mexico. While there, we decided to book a tour to the Tulum ruins. The night before the tour, I felt nauseous, as if I had been poisoned. My hotel room seemed to be shifting. I couldn’t see the room properly, and everything was faded. I closed my eyes and the dizziness subsided until I tried to open them again. Then the room would shift and the nausea would start again. I decided to keep my eyes closed and try to sleep. All night, I dreamt of snakes sliding over my body. By morning, I no longer felt nauseous but was exhausted from the lack of sleep. I told my friend about my experience and he suggested cancelling our tour and getting some rest. I knew he really wanted to go to the ruins, so I said I would be fine and we boarded the tour bus. Once at the ruins, the guide began talking about the structure and explained the symbolism of all the ‘snake carvings’ we would see on the ruin structures. My friend looked at me. “Coincidence?” he asked. “Nope.” I asked the guide if they had spider symbols as well. He looked at me strangely before explaining that snakes and spiders are enemies from two different clans. Then I knew what had happened the previous night. I have a spider totem and I was on snake territory. No wonder I felt sick and had nightmares about snakes. I was nervous about doing the rest of the tour. As I could have expected, Wind reassured me. She explained that I had been initiated and would no longer have any issues walking on snake territory. I didn’t understand how that could work, but I completed the tour without any episodes of illness. When we returned home from our trip to Mexico, I had a vision of another spider. At 10:00 pm, I was in bed reading a book when I saw something climbing up my end table. I watched in horror as a two-inch thick black spider crawled up the side of my end table. When it reached the top, it disappeared into thin air. I panicked and told my friend what I saw. “We must have brought a spider back from Mexico,” I concluded.

“You said you saw the spider disappear,” he reminded me. “You just had a vision. Don’t worry about it.” But I did worry. I knew I saw it disappear, but what if it was real? I couldn’t sleep. At 3:00 am, I was still awake when Wind said, “Get the computer and look up ‘spider temple.’” Sitting up in bed, I did a search and could not believe the site I found. In 2008, a three thousand year old temple had been discovered in Peru. The temple featured an image of a deity that was part spider, bird and cat. Three of my totems are spider, crow and jaguar. Over the years, I would wake and see Wind, who said, “The spiders are getting closer, the time is coming.” She would disappear and then I would see spiders. I began to realize that Wind was shape shifting into the spider to give me messages about the past and future, and about writing.

Part 2 Transcendence

Chapter 8 Twin Flame

For weeks, a man had been driving by the grand opening sign of my book store, eagerly awaiting opening day. When I finally opened my doors, he visited the shop several times, catching my attention. His name was Fred, and he collected metaphysical books, reading cards and crystals. I the first time he walked into the store, as he was the only man. All my other customers at the time were women. He was wearing big steel-toed work boots, tan Carhartt overalls, and a blue long-sleeved shirt. He was handsome and tall, with light brown hair parted to the left side. I had a table of coffee and donuts set up in the book area. I watched as Fred walked over to the table and poured himself a coffee. He sipped his coffee while taking in the layout of the store. I turned my focus back to the other customers, as I was busy at the cash . I was ringing in a large order of books for a lady when I felt someone watching me. I turned to glance over at the coffee table and saw Fred standing there, staring at me. We made eye and he went as pale as a ghost. Quickly, he set his coffee cup down on the table and left. Strange man, I thought, and quickly forgot about the incident. A couple of weeks ed and the immediate rush of customers had calmed down. I was stocking new books on the shelves when the front door opened and Fred walked in. At first, I barely recognized him, but then I recalled his peculiar behaviour from opening day. He approached me and asked if I had a particular book. I didn’t have the book in stock, but promised I would order it right away. He talked to me about some of his reading interests, which were similar to my own. I found him intriguing. He seemed to have such a vast knowledge about spiritual topics. He purchased a shamanic book and promised to return in a week to pick up his other book order.

That night I fell into a deep sleep. I was exhausted. Owning my own business was a lot of work. In the two short weeks of the store being open, my body was already feeling drained as I tried to keep up with orders and requests from new customers. The next morning, as I was opening my eyes, I had a vision of a man standing at the end of my bed. I rubbed my eyes, looked again and saw Fred standing there smiling at me. Shocked, I exclaimed, “What are you doing here?!” Then he disappeared. ‘Weird,’ I thought. Why did I see him standing in my bedroom? Stupid visions. A week later, Fred returned to pick up his book order. He mentioned that he was going boating with some friends and casually asked if I wanted to them. Surprised, I didn’t know what to say. I fumbled my words and replied that I couldn’t because I had to work. But I thanked him anyway. He seemed a bit embarrassed, so I said, “Well, maybe another time.” “Sure,” he replied, and paid for his items before leaving. ‘What the hell was happening,’ I wondered. I had committed to the single life. I told Spirit I was staying single for good. And in came this stranger. I had even seen him in my bedroom. Nope, I decided. This is not going to happen. But the visions didn’t stop, and over the next few days, I saw him beside me in many strange future visions. I started thinking that maybe I was just dreaming, but I knew that was ridiculous. By this time I knew the difference, and they were definitely visions. The next time Fred came into the store, he asked me again if I was interested in going canoeing. This time, I said yes. There was something about this guy. We made arrangements for the next afternoon. I told him that I would pack a homemade lunch for us to eat, trying to appear domesticated. The next morning, however, I realized I didn’t have time to make anything, so I bought couple roast beef sandwiches and oatmeal cookies from the new local deli. Fred picked me up at my store at 1:00 pm in an ugly white Dodge truck that had seen better years. There was a big blue canoe tied to the roof. I wasn’t sure if the canoe was totally secure, because it bounced around as we headed down the road towards Hayward Lake. Fred seemed oblivious to the movement of the canoe, so I tried hard to conceal my anxiety.

As we drove, we had a light conversation about our spiritual beliefs. The time seemed to fly by, and within half an hour we were at the lake. Fred parked and unloaded the canoe and life jackets. He dragged the canoe to the dock, and slid it into the water. Fred had a nice cushy chair that he set up on the bench in the canoe for me to sit on. I felt a bit uneasy about being pampered. It seemed like maybe he was a little too nice for me. As we drifted away from shore, I ed that I had never paddled a canoe before. Recklessly, I flipped the paddle around in all directions, throwing water up in the air and flapping like a baby duck trying out its wings. Fred was polite enough not to say anything or laugh. He just commented that the lake was calm and I should sit back and enjoy the scenery…while he paddled. That was a big relief to me, because after two minutes of trying to paddle, I was exhausted. We sat quietly for a bit, taking in the mountains surrounding us and watching eagles fly over the lake. The silence was stunning. As we moved toward a dam, Fred mentioned that it looked like a crew was setting up for a movie shoot. As we drifted closer, someone started yelling at us to move away from the area. I was surprised when Fred yelled back at the person. “Maybe next time you should put some signs up for the locals that come out to enjoy the lake!” He looked at me and said that all the new movie people seemed to think they owned the place. I saw a cheeky and sarcastic side of him, and I liked it. Maybe he’s not too nice for me, I thought. Fred turned the canoe around and headed for a dock on the opposite side of the lake. He said it was a nice spot to have lunch. It was about 3:00 pm by this time, and I was starving. Once we were sitting on the dock, I had a daring urge to kiss him. Of course, I didn’t make a move. Why would I even think such a thing? I was too nervous to feel like eating, so I had to wash every bite of my sandwich down with gulps of water. I couldn’t figure out what was going on with me. Fred wolfed his sandwich down before I had even finished a quarter of mine. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Fine,” I lied. “I’m just not too hungry.” We talked about our previous relationships. Fred said he had two children from a

prior common-law relationship, and he made it quite clear that he would never get married. Marriage, he insisted, was just a piece of paper. I agreed, saying I had been married twice and would never again make that mistake. I was glad we were both on the same page. Then, a strong electrical surge of energy flowed through my body and my hands started to tremble. I was caught off guard by the increased energy I was feeling. But I realized I had a strong attraction to this man, and felt like Wind was urging me to pay attention to my emotions. Perhaps this was something really good, something meant to be. Shocked by my realization, I said, “Maybe we should head back now.” He seemed disappointed but complied and we hopped back into the canoe. Quietly, and in our own thoughts, we made our way back across the lake and to the main dock. Fred hauled the canoe out of the water and loaded it back on top of the truck. I watched as he secured the ropes. Satisfied that everything was tied down, I jumped in the enger seat. On the drive back, I asked Fred if he wanted a cookie. “No,” he replied. “But I will take a couple home and eat them later.” When we got to town, Fred said he had just rented a new house for himself and his two teenage kids. He said he was going to be busy cleaning up the house and unpacking for the next week or so. I offered to help him, and he said that would be great. We made arrangements for me to help out the following Friday while he was at work, and we would have a wiener roast in the back yard when he got home. I took down his address, left some cookies on the enger seat and watched as he drove away. Early the next morning at work, the phone rang. It was Fred. I was surprised to hear from him so quickly. He said, “I know I shouldn’t call so soon after a date, but I had to talk to someone.” He sounded really sad. “On no,” I said. “What’s wrong?” “It’s my dog, Cedar. You know, the one I mentioned was in the Walt Disney T.V. show?” “Ah yes,” I replied, recalling his story about his famous golden retriever. “How is he?” “Not very good. He almost died.”

“Oh my goodness. That’s terrible! Is he okay? What happened?” “Well, I gave him one of those homemade cookies you left for me, and he choked on it.” Shocked, I took the phone receiver away from my ear for a moment and stared at it. Then I realized he was joking. “Oh shit,” I cried. “Funny, very funny.” Then I laughed until tears poured from my eyes. “I am so sorry,” I apologized. “I tried a cookie on my way home and almost broke a tooth. That’s the last time I buy cookies from that damn bakery.” “I thought you said you baked them…” “Yeah well, I am a busy woman,” I explained. “See you next Friday.” I hung up the phone and felt my heart skip a beat. Oh no, I thought. I knew what that feeling meant. So much for the single life! The next Friday, I drove to Maple Ridge and followed the directions Fred had given me to his new home. His children were at school, he was at work, and I had all day to clean. I drove up a long, beautiful driveway lined with cedar trees. I parked the car and walked to the front entrance, impressed by the huge deck and double front doors. I thought some flowers, like daisies, would be a nice addition. I found the house keys where he said they would be, and unlocked the door. The house was huge, about 3000 square feet with two living rooms and five bedrooms. I turned the radio to a pop station and got to work. I swept and scrubbed the main living quarters first, and the hardwood floors were gleaming within a couple of hours. Then I started vacuuming the area rugs. Despite the noise from the vacuum, I could still hear the traffic outside. “Wow, is that street ever friggin’ noisy,” I said. Then, I felt the hairs on my body stand up. I realized that Fred was living on twenty-five acres in a big house off a busy secondary highway.

‘No way, no way, no way,’ I thought. This can’t be! I turned the vacuum off and slowly approached the steps leading upstairs. Quietly, I climbed the old wooden stairs one by one, noticing the same paintings and artwork from my vision. I turned and headed back down the stairs and swung the front doors open. To my astonishment, there stood the two trees, wrapped around each other. The ‘double tree’ towered over me, and looked as if it was smiling. Had I not paid attention when I first approached the house? I said aloud, “Wind, this is the house. The one you showed me.” I sat at Fred’s tattered kitchen table and stared out the window, thinking about how crazy it was that I had been in this house before, with Wind. I spent the rest of the day cleaning, in a numb state. Why would Wind show me this guy after I declared I wanted to be single? I had no answer. Not yet. Later that afternoon, Fred and his children returned home and we sat outside around a campfire. I mentioned the paintings, and his daughter Carey said they were hers. She loved art. I didn’t mention anything else, because I had to go home and think about it all first. I left around 9:00 pm and crawled into my bed exhausted. I thought about the vision, and how impossible my life seemed to be in the past year, with all the visions, morphing and predictions. So many things were changing so quickly. I closed my eyes and instantly had a vision of Fred lying on a bed, shirtless. Confused, I zoomed in on his chest, where two gold wedding bands were resting. I turned to my right and saw Wind looking at me. She smiled and nodded, as if giving me her approval. My eyes shot open, and I sat up with my heart pounding. I took a few deep breaths. What was I seeing? Wedding bands? I had only had two dates with this guy. This was insane. On our next date, I told Fred about my strange visions. Then he told me that the first time he came into my store, he had a strange thought. He described it as his own mind talking to him, and he heard his mind say, ‘That is your future wife.’ Fred said he damn near choked on his coffee. Then he saw me looking at him and thought that girl is psychic and probably just read my mind. So he quickly set his coffee down, and took off as fast as he could. Fred said he vowed never to come back. But the next few nights, he kept having that same thought, about marrying me. Finally, his curiosity got the best of him, and he returned to the

store. Fred decided he would ask me out on a date. He wasn’t looking for marriage. He was only looking for a friend, or maybe a relationship, but never a marriage. Two months later, we were married. As we pulled onto the ferry to head to Campbell River for our honeymoon, I closed my eyes to rest. I immediately had a vision of a beautiful bouquet of flowers, Tiger Lilies. They appeared to float down from the sky and settle in front of my face. I felt my grandmother and knew she was giving me her blessing. I had made the right choice. I had found my Twin Flame. Fred would soon have his own angelic visions. He is my love and my protector, guarding me. He is an Earth Angel.

Chapter 9 Past Lives

Every now and then, I would ask an important question and Wind would either answer or show me a vision. For example, from as young as I can recall, I had always had this dream where I felt like something was coming towards me. I could see water and words before me. I would try to what the words said, but as soon as I woke from the dream, the words were lost from my memory. I that when I was thirteen or fourteen, I had this dream in March, around the time of my birthday. I think it was then that I understood it was a manifestation of my past life. I would have the dream once or twice a year for the next twenty years. Each time, I thought that I had to it when I woke up. But I never could. After getting to know Wind, one of my first requests was that she show me one of my past lives. Immediately after asking, I had a vision of Wind and I standing on a small sandy area by a lake. The area was maybe only four feet wide. Wind was looking upward and I followed her gaze. I could see a highway or windy road above a cliff. All of a sudden, a black car flew over the cliff and plunged into the lake. I then found myself inside the car, trying to hold my head above water. I could see words as if they were etched on the side of a small boat. The words were backwards so I couldn’t make them out. But I feeling relieved to know that someone was there to save me. The water rose quickly. I tried to look upward but my face was pressed against the car’s leather ceiling. No one was saving me. I surrendered and took one last deep breath as my mouth was submerged in water. The next moment, I was again standing on the small sandy area with Wind. I followed her gaze and saw a young man in his early twenties. He was on a large rock, holding the body of a woman. His hand was under her head, and he was trying to revive her. But I knew he was too late. The woman had blond hair and looked to be about thirty-five years old. I looked at Wind and asked, “Was I the woman? Where did I live? And what was the name on the boat?”

She nodded and replied, “Melody and Pennsylvania.” Was Melody my name or the boat’s name? Before Wind could answer me, a new vision came through. This time, Wind and I were standing in front of a big white house. It looked colonial, like a plantation or something. Wind started walking up the steps towards the door, and I followed her. As we walked through the entrance, we entered a great room. I was taken aback by the architecture, which featured a high ceiling and thick crown moulding. The room itself was as large as any house I had ever lived in. I was awestruck. Wind stood by the entrance to another room, coaxing me to follow her, but I couldn’t seem to move. I sensed there was something happening in the room but I wasn’t ready to see it. I stood, frozen. She shook her head and the vision ended. I opened my eyes to the darkness of my bedroom, and I tried to digest what I had seen. The fractions of my past life had been delivered to me in small puzzle pieces. One clue was that I had been a young woman from Pennsylvania driving a car. I did an internet search for “Melody,” “car accidents,” “drownings” and “Pennsylvania.” But I couldn’t find a thing. I also wasn’t sure if I had lived in the big white mansion that Wind showed me, and I always regretted not following Wind into the other room. It was clear to me that past lives were real.

James

James, a nineteen-year-old youth, walked into the shop one afternoon and asked if he could have a Reiki session. He didn’t have any specific need or health issue, he just said he had heard about some of my work and was interested in trying an energy balancing session. He had a medium build, with fair skin, soft brown eyes and dark brown hair. I felt his quiet, soft energy and knew he was an old soul. James followed me into the healing room, and I asked him to lie on his back on

the massage table. I explained my process, saying that he may feel sensations, such as heat, cold, tingling or pressure, as the energy flows through his body. I told him to simply meditate, relax and fall asleep. I also said that if he felt uncomfortable at any time, he should open his eyes and let me know. At the time, I was mentoring a young lady named Nicole. She sat quietly at the foot of the table holding James’ feet. I sat on a chair at the head of the table, and started the session by hand gesturing the first two Reiki symbols, “Cho Ku Rei” and “Sei He Ke,” in the air above James’ crown and heart chakras. I was just about to place my hands on either side of his head when Wind appeared in my mind. She told me to use the third symbol as well, the long distance healing and past life symbol. I complied, and looked at his aura. A beautiful golden light was flowing about a foot from his body. As I stared at the golden light, I felt strong feelings of love, beauty and pure gentleness. I could feel the Earth energy like it was beating through my own heart. I knew this young fellow had deep heart-felt energy and a real connection to his soul. Within a few moments, I felt like James’ heart, my heart and the Earth’s heartbeat were all in sync. As I held his head between my hands, I had a vision of a brown mare. I knew James wasn’t in deep relaxation mode yet, so I asked him if he owned a horse. “No,” he replied. “I have never owned or ridden a horse in my life.” When I moved to James’ heart chakra, I could feel heat. For me, heat was a sign that the energy centre had a blockage. Gliding my hands over his heart chakra, with my eyes closed and focusing on the source of the block, I all of a sudden felt a large breeze of air swiftly flow through the room, and simultaneously there was a loud whinny sound. Nicole’s eyes popped open and she looked straight at me. Moving my index finger over my lips, I signalled for her to be quiet. I then closed my eyes and asked, “If a horse is in this room, please whinny again.” The second whinny was loud and powerful, making the room shake. The mare’s spirit seemed to run through the room. Her presence was strong and moving, indicating that she was connected to and protective of James. She was his totem, or spirit animal. I glanced over at Nicole, who was still holding James’ feet in her hands. The experience was so remarkable that tears were pouring from her eyes. I looked back to the heart chakra and closed my eyes. Telepathically, I asked the spirit

mare to clear the blockage in James’ heart, to help heal him. Suddenly, James’ heartbeat increased. His heart was pounding so hard beneath my hands that I felt concerned and considered ending the healing session. I started to lift my hands from his heart when Wind touched my shoulder. “No,” she said. “Let him be.” I waited another minute or two, but James’ heart was still pounding. I didn’t know what to do. I knew Wind wouldn’t tell me to leave him be if he was in danger. However, I became so incapable of handling my own emotions of fear and doubt that I decided to end the session. I lifted my hands above his body, spread my fingers like eagle wings, and then brought them to my own heart, releasing myself from his energy. As soon as I closed the session, James’ eyes flew open and he gasped, trying to control his breathing. He sat up and looked at Nicole and I with tears in his eyes. I asked if he was okay. “Yes,” he replied. “It was the wildest thing. I was on the back on this beautiful horse. We were galloping across an open field when, out of nowhere, this man on a horse raced up beside us. He reached over and grabbed my hair, pulling me off my horse and rolling to the ground with me. Holding my hair in his hand, he pointed a gun at me and shot me in the head. I was an Indian and this White man killed me.” James was not Aboriginal. He didn’t have any experience with horses and has never had any past life memories. He explained that for most of his life, he felt extra sensitive. It was a lonely feeling, like he was missing something important, but never understood what. I explained that our soul, or subconscious, holds all memories of past lives. Sometimes, when we are born to a new life, and even though we have no past life memory, we can still feel a past life. James and his horse had a strong bond, a deep soul connection. His loneliness stemmed from this past life. He missed his horse and she missed him. The love of an animal is no different than the love two people can share, as bonds can exist between all living beings. The horse’s soul was able to find James and help him their bond. It was able to heal his loneliness and his heart. After the session, James began to meditate. He later said he would have visions of the horse. She was continuously with him and he could feel her presence. He now understood his loneliness. Through Wind and working with people who have experienced past life regression, I came to understand that unexplainable feelings or fears in this life can be the result of a past life trauma. I also believe some of our desires, ions and gifts extend from past life experiences as well.

My Healing from Wind

After many incredible experiences with Wind, she began attempting to take me back to my childhood. When I was six years old, my mother, father, sister, aunt and I moved to Hinton, Alberta. There, I spent my days wandering through the trees, playing in the creek and crossing the arched bridge to the swing set area. However, my life was changed after two incidents of sexual assaults occurred. I blocked these incidents from my memory for the next nine years. When I was fifteen, my girlfriend and I had a sleepover at my aunt’s house. In the middle of the night, I woke up sweating and calling out, “That’s him, that’s him.” My girlfriend woke, startled. She called my name and shook me until I was awake. I told her I was having a really bad dream. I explained the dream in detail. “I was playing alone in my favourite park in Hinton. We lived just above the park, on top of a cliff. I had just left the swing set, crossed the bridge and was heading back home. But I stopped, turned and saw a young man walking across the bridge, towards me…It was a brutal attack.” Then I explained in great detail everything he had done to me, including the penetration. My girlfriend looked at me, shocked, and said, “How can you explain that in full detail without any emotion?” She was in tears. “Well, it was just a dream,” I replied. “It didn’t really happen.” My girlfriend persisted, “Don’t you think you should talk to your aunt about the dream?” “Why?” I asked. “What if that really happened?” “If it did, it’s done now. There’s nothing I can do to change it.”

My girlfriend insisted I tell my aunt. So, in the morning as my aunt was cooking, I told her about the dream. She looked at me in shock. “How did you know all that?” she asked. “I dreamt it,” I replied. “Just now?” “Last night,” I explained. My girlfriend, who was sitting quietly, looked back and forth between my aunt and me. “What’s the big deal?” I asked. “Did it happen in real life?” To my surprise, my aunt revealed, “Yes, it did. And you are getting a counsellor.” She told me that the details I recounted were uncannily accurate. I refused to start counselling. As far as I was concerned, it was all just a dream. And if it wasn’t, I was healed from the experience already. I didn’t see any point in drawing more attention to the incident. The second traumatic memory came a short while later, and I didn’t bother telling anyone. This time, I dreamt of a sexual assault by a babysitter. I was riding a tricycle around the living room when, suddenly, I found myself in the bedroom with the babysitter. I felt angry that I was ing yet another sexual assault. Yet, again, there was nothing I could do about something that had happened so far in the past. I merely acknowledged that another sexual assault had occurred, and pretended to forget about it. At age thirty-two, Wind tried bringing me back to the dream; I said I didn’t want to revisit it, I told her, “I know what you are trying to show me and there is no need. I already saw and dealt with the assaults. There is absolutely no need to recall that trauma.” For a few nights in a row, Wind tried to get me to go back in time and see what happened. I didn’t understand why, and I stubbornly refused. Then, she tricked me. One night, as I closed my eyes to go to sleep, Wind appeared. “Look,” she said. “Look what’s happening.”

I turned my focus to a movie scene forming in front of me. I saw this delicate little girl playing in a room, and then I felt a dark presence enter. I looked and saw a man, but didn’t recognize either of them. I continued to watch this man as he led the child away. I watched what was happening and started to get angry. I began yelling at him and looking at Wind telling her to make him stop. But Wind forced me to watch until I found myself screaming at the man, calling him insane and a monster. He didn’t hear me. Panicking, I looked at Wind, and she said, “The girl thinks it’s her fault. She thinks she enticed him.” “Of course she didn’t!” I yelled at Wind. “Why would she think that? It’s his fault, not hers. He is the monster.” Wind said, “Look again.” I looked back at the girl but she was different, she was changed. The girl was now me. Shocked, I looked at Wind, who said, “You were angry at yourself, you thought it was your fault. I had to show you it wasn’t so you could finally heal.” “What!” I cried. And in an instant, all my relationships flashed before me, and I understood that the assaults were the root of my problems. I understood why I needed my space, my bubble. Everything became clear. I had been lying to myself. I pretended I was strong, and that I could deal with anything and everything. I gave to others all the time, but I could not receive. I rejected affection and avoided trust. I couldn’t be angry at Wind. I didn’t appreciate her method, but I understood it. She had to detach me from the scenario so I could watch and be objective. I had been in a state of denial and I wasn’t as healed as I had thought. Wind explained that in order to increase my body’s energy flow and move forward on my journey, I had to rid myself of all unwanted harmful energy. After Wind’s healing therapy, I began to explore how energy can heal others.

Chapter 10 Miracle Healings and Reiki

I completed My Level 1 and Level 2 Reiki in British Columbia, in 2002. There were four people that attended the first level class with me. We were mainly taught meditation techniques and chakras, and practiced feeling energy in our hands. After the training, we were all initiated. The five of us sat on chairs in a circle with our eyes closed while the Reiki Master completed the initiation. During my initiation, I could feel a magnetic sensation on the top of my crown. This reminded me of when I was a kid and a friend asked me to close my fist really tight for a full minute. Then, when I opened my fist, my friend took her fingers and reached into the centre of my palm, pretending to pull out an egg. Then, she opened her fingers as if dropping the egg back into my hand, which felt tingly. This memory almost caused me to start giggling, but I held back, as this was supposed to be a very sacred initiation. After the Reiki Master completed the process, she asked us to sit quietly and send healing thoughts to whomever we thought would need it. We had to make sure we asked the person’s soul permission before we sent healing. In Reiki, we are taught that we must have permission to heal each individual. If permission is not given and we are sending distant healing, we must ask the person’s higher self or soul for permission. The soul decides if the healing energy is accepted. This is to make sure the intention is in the best interest of the person who may need or seek healing. I was trying to think of someone to send healing energy to, when a thought entered my mind: ‘Why not send energy to all the guides and angels on the other side? Surely, they must get exhausted. They must need healing energy too.’ I began imagining all this love and energy flowing from my heart and out into the vast universe. I gave permission to all the guides and angels to help themselves to this energy if they needed it. Meanwhile, in my third eye, I could see this beautiful green and white light flowing up into the black universe. After a couple moments of focusing on this energy, I saw a golden light. It was like a

stream. But instead of flowing upwards, the light seemed to be streaming downwards, toward me. In the distance, it appeared that the golden light stopped about six feet in front of me, and it started to take shape. I watched until it manifested into a pair of golden hands in prayer position. The hands floated down in front of my face. As I watched in awe, unstoppable tears of love began to flow down my cheeks. The hands then disappeared and the Reiki Master asked us to open our eyes. I explained what I had seen and she said I was given the gift of healing. But I didn’t know what to think of the vision. After the initiation, we were asked to practice a healing session on each other. Tia, an Aboriginal woman in our class, agreed to lie on the massage table and allow us to practice a session on her. One of the students started the process at Tia’s crown, and the other two went to either side of her body. I sat in a chair and placed my hands on her feet. I closed my eyes to focus on seeing the energy in my mind’s eye. The instructor asked me to open my eyes and look around Tia’s body to see if I could see an aura. I could. There was a small blue light hovering about one inch from her body. Looking closer, I could see a faint yellow colour about six inches away. I focused on watching the colour form an egg shaped sphere around her body. As I focused on the colour, I noticed a dark patch below her sacral area. I stared at the patch and watched as it seemed to spiral like a small tornado. I didn’t know what I was seeing, but I sensed it wasn’t good. I mentioned to the instructor and Tia that I could see a dark energy around her stomach. The instructor asked me to move to the right side of Tia’s body and place my hands a couple inches above the target area. I did as requested and immediately felt heat. I slid my hands away from the area and felt coolness. Then I slid them back to the area and felt heat. I explained the sensations I was feeling. The others could not see the aura or the darker area. The instructor then suggested that Tia schedule an appointment with the doctor, just to err on the side of caution. Tia didn’t seem concerned as we were all just practicing seeing auras and figuring out how we all feel energy. Some people felt warm energy when doing healings, others felt coolness. I felt both. I completed my second level of Reiki within one month after the first level. I was practicing daily, either on friends, pets or sending distant healing. During the practice session for the second level, I could see the colours of the auras of those around me. When I moved my hands above their bodies, I could feel hot spots where they either had prior injuries, such as broken bones, or if they were

experiencing current health conditions. For example, if they had kidney problems, I could feel the heat in that area of the body. If they had circulation problems, I would feel heat from the heart chakra. If I felt heat in the heart and sacral areas, I would intuitively speculate that there could be relationship problems. I began to understand my own communication using a combination of feelings around the healing and using my third eye for visions and clairaudience for words.

Tia’s Story

I was having my morning coffee when the phone rang. On the other end of the phone, a lady introduced herself as Tia. She explained that we had met in the Reiki Level 1 class, and I had done a practice healing on her with the group. Tia explained that after the session, she made an appointment with her doctor and he ordered some tests. The results came back positive for a tumor. “Oh no!” I said. I was shocked to hear the news. My mind flipped back to the dark spiralling energy I had seen around her stomach. A Tumor! I was starting to recognize that different colours I saw meant different things. My spirit guides understood that I knew about the chakras, so they communicated with me using colour. Dark colours usually meant a physical health concern. I made an appointment to see Tia a few days after her call. I was in the middle of helping my friend install flooring throughout his house and had to finish the job. The day before Tia’s appointment, we still had a bedroom to finish. I began to meditate as I was working on connecting the floorboards together. My friend was cutting the wood, and I was putting the pieces together, one by one. I was in a meditative state, thinking about Tia and asking for her spirit guides, angels and soul family to come the next day and help me channel healing energy to her body. I was picturing the healing room, and how I would smudge first to clear the energy, and use my drum to call on the ancestors for help. I was working away in my meditative world when my friend stopped the table saw to ask me a question. Deep in my own thoughts, I disregarded him. He asked again. Frustrated that he was interrupting my train of thought, I looked up

at him and started to yell across the room that he was mes my prep work for the next day. But the words that came out of my mouth were not English, they sounded more like Spanish. I didn’t know Spanish. I shut my mouth and tried again, and the words came out entirely different. They were some form of Aboriginal language. Again, I shut my mouth. My friend was stunned. “What are you doing? What the hell are you saying?” Shocked, I stared off blankly. I couldn’t reply. I was afraid to open my mouth. He walked closer and asked, “What languages were those? What were you saying?” Finally, touching my hand to my lips, I replied, “I don’t know,” and felt instant relief that I had answered in English. My friend started laughing, nervously. “That was weird!” “Yeah, well, it was stranger for me,” I replied. We finished the job in silence. The following morning, Tia showed up at 10:00 am. I had just smudged the healing room and was prepared for the session. Tia lay on the massage table and I put on some soft music. I closed the curtains and lit a white candle. It was still too bright in the room for any sort of ambiance, but the music and candle helped create a relaxing atmosphere. I asked Tia a few questions about her health concerns. She said that she was only taking a vitamin C drip and refused any other therapy. I told her that Reiki energy did not replace scientific medicine, and that she should really consider everything her doctor suggested. Tia said she understood, but it was her personal choice to refuse therapy. During that first session, I could still see the dark energy around her sacral area, so I focused around her sacral and root chakra for about forty minutes. I then moved to her other chakras for another forty minutes or so. As I was working, I felt loved ones in the room. I began to telepathically ask who they were. In my mind, I received a clear message: “We are all here, both sides of her family, but she doesn’t know us.” I asked Tia if she had family from both paternal sides that she had

never met. She explained that she had been adopted, so she never knew her family. I asked if she knew her heritage, as I felt there were two distinct cultures in the room. Tia replied that she had Spanish and Aboriginal backgrounds. With that knowledge, I understood that both languages I had spoken the day before had come from her family. When I was focusing on setting up the prayers and healing energy for Tia, I had somehow channelled her relatives. Tia asked which side of her family I had thought was assisting on her healing journey. I told her that both her paternal and maternal relatives were helping her heal. She quietly accepted this as true and didn’t ask any further questions. I worked silently, watching the energy dance around her body. I could see spears of white light streaming through her aura and directly into her stomach. I only saw Tia once a week for two months for energy sessions. I felt she should come more often, but it was her decision. During our last session, Tia said that she was healed and no longer needed sessions. I couldn’t believe it. How could the tumor possibly heal in such a short time? I was so intrigued that I started many more volunteer sessions with friends and family, healing them of chronic back pain, cysts and other ailments. For a year, I saw many people and started to comprehend that I was capable of channelling other spirit helpers. In spirit form, I would see doctors and shamen of many different cultures helping me channel the energies. I was just a tool that these spirits needed to continue their work from the other side. I felt blessed and gave permission for all positive spirit healers to use my body to transfer the energy.

Nicole’s Story

With sparkling blue eyes, golden blond hair and the most glowing smile I had ever seen, 17-year-old Nicole was one of those people who could light up a room the instant she walked in. She showed up for a healing session, accompanied by

her mother, who sat quietly in the waiting room. I sensed that, under Nicole’s smile, she was deeply troubled and in pain. I led her to the healing room while explaining to her that I was a medium, as well as a healer, and sometimes would receive messages from Spirit. She was excited about the session and cheerfully lay on the bed while I dimmed the lights and turned on some gentle music. As I was moving my hands over her body, I noticed two lines of white light flowing down from the ceiling and settling over her heart and solar plexus chakra. I placed my hands over the two chakra centres and closed my eyes. I had a vision of grey skies and a rainy cul-de-sac. The houses in the area were all built around the 1980s. I sensed a spirit enter the room and felt a cool breeze flow over my body, so I opened my eyes. Standing on the opposite side of the healing table was a young man with dark hair and big, beautiful brown eyes. He looked at me and said, “Tell her it wasn’t her fault. I dropped my pack of cigarettes.” As quickly as he came in the room, he disappeared. I continued the healing, focusing on the white light until the light vanished. Then I stopped. I told Nicole to stay lying on the table while I explained to her what I saw. Nicole immediately sat up on the table, “You saw all that?” she asked. I explained that I didn’t know what it all meant. She asked me to go get her mom. When I returned to the room with her mother, Nicole asked that I repeat what I saw. Then, Nicole told me that she had been in an accident. She explained that she was driving her car on a rainy night when she noticed a young man riding his bike on the sidewalk. The next thing she knew, he was on the road in front of her car, and she had no time to even think about hitting the brakes. He died instantly. During the court process, the judge declared that the accident could have happened to anyone. But Nicole was trying to understand why it had happened to her. That’s why her solar plexus and heart chakras needed healing. The heart deals with love and comion and the solar plexus deals with personal power, identity and self-esteem. Her chakras in these areas were blocked and needed healing to increase the flow of the vital life force energy that keeps all living things alive. Once the energy started to flow easily again, she could release her

emotions and begin the process of healing. Nicole could feel the energy running through her body. She felt pain, as some people do, as the energy attempted to push through the blockages. But she also felt a shift. The energy was working. Nicole started to meditate regularly and decided to devote her life to helping others. She started her first official training in energy work as a Reiki apprentice in 2004. She went on to run a successful Healing Practice for many years, serving clients from all over the Fraser Valley. In 2007, she travelled to to attend further studies in the healing arts. While in school, Nicole delved into advanced training and the study of the human energy field, the human energy consciousness system, and the healing sciences. Her time traveling allowed her to bring invaluable new skills and experiences to her beloved clients. Nicole’s life purpose was set the day of that accident. Experiencing trauma can drastically change our lives. It can cause us to start reviewing our direction and to question our purpose. When this happens, we stop taking so much for granted, and start paying attention to what is important to us. We start to take risks, which changes our lives, making them into something we are proud of by doing what we love. There are also times we start to work so ionately that we forget to take care of ourselves. I have had to remind Nicole to make sure she takes care of herself first. It is irable to help others, but even more commendable to love ourselves. When we truly love ourselves, we help all cosmic consciousness, as we are all connected as one. I believe that we pre-plan our destiny with a soul group in the spirit world before we are even born into this world. The young man involved in the accident may have been part of Nicole’s soul group. He may have volunteered to help Nicole experience the life she planned on this Earth. These things are hard for humans to understand. But when we start to believe that we are immortal souls having human experiences, things are easier to accept and fears are dissolved. One sure thing is that since Nicole’s incident with trauma, many people have benefited from her selfless acts of love. She has earned her wings. Nicole’s healing story:

After the accident, I had massive depression. I was too terrified to drive, and would have flashbacks every time I sat in the driver’s seat. I was still in school, trying to make it through grades 10, 11 and 12 in one year. At the time, I was under insane mental and emotional stress, and social attacks from people who knew what happened. Originally, I wanted to the army. But after witnessing death and being involved in it, I no longer wanted to the army and decided to be a lifeguard instead. I was looking for something to offer me the chance to save lives without requiring me to end others, which I realized I may have to do if I ed the army. All the stress collected in my upper back and neck area, which became tense and sore all the time. I tried massage therapy and chiropractic at least once a week, which offered some help but the pain would always return. I was in so much pain, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, every day. On one of our family’s weekly breakfasts at our favorite restaurant, we noticed a new book store, where my family and I met Lorene. After my first Reiki session with Lorene, I felt like a train had hit me. My whole body was in agony as the energy seared through the blocks in my energy field and body. During that first session, I was a broken person. One day shortly after a couple more sessions, I was at home in the bathroom when, all of a sudden, I had a massive release. I began to cough uncontrollably and it felt and looked like steam was exploding out of my back and chest. It felt cold and hot and tingly and I could barely breathe in between coughs. After a few minutes, it stopped and my back/neck pain was gone. After that, I no longer needed massage and chiropractic every week. One Reiki session a month was enough, and I was able to return to life as normal without being in constant pain. I learned about Reiki, chakras and energy, and that it was all real and related to everything I had experienced my whole life. I signed up for Lorene’s Reiki 1 class. It was like I finally found people that spoke my language and understood what I was going though and could help me learn to use it. Lorene helped me piece myself back together. I fell in love with the work and became one of Lorene’s apprentices. Lorene recommended a healing book, which would change my life. Between reading about healing and Lorene guiding me, I was able to, not only heal myself, but also have the privilege to help others heal themselves. This experience gave me the strength and determination to successfully finish

grades 10, 11 and 12 that year, and apply and get into a healing school in Europe. There, I met and helped so many amazing people, and was finally able to drive a vehicle again.

Musical Vibrations - The Language of Light

Over the years, I have encountered a handful of young people that have been able to manifest the spiritual musical notes that are attached to our energy field or etheric body. Thomas was one of those individuals. As soon as he stepped into the room for his healing appointment, I could see his aura shining. The light around him was soft blue with hues of violet and flashes of silver. I knew I was going to experience something very special during Thomas’ Reiki session, and I chose to play a CD with gentle sounds of nature. I began to work on Thomas, placing my hands on his head and focusing on feeling his energy field. I moved to his ears, third eye, throat and then his heart chakra. I watched as I saw white light dancing above his body, like the northern lights, only pure white. I was mesmerized by the dancing lights when I began to hear a vibration in the room. At first, the sound started as a low whistle that was far off in the distance. I thought perhaps it was a crystal note in the CD that I hadn’t noticed before. Yet, as I continued to listen, the sound got louder and louder. It seemed to come from Thomas’s heart, and it expanded to the ceiling of the room. The sound was in tune with the white light above Thomas’ body. As I listened to the tone, I realized the sound was very similar to the vibration of the drum. If a person listens carefully to a drum beat, they can hear a humming noise that sounds more like crystal bowls than a drum. The sound will seem like it is coming from the ceiling and vibrating through the room, when it is actually being forced out from the drum. The vibration was coming from Thomas’ heart chakra. Astonished, I looked back down at him. He was lying with his eyes closed, breathing lightly and totally relaxed. Thomas, a bit surprised by the beautiful sound, didn’t realize that he was making the sound from his internal body. The sound was his vibrations, his

own musical notes playing. In that moment, I realized Thomas was a highly evolved being. The crystal vibrations work through the spiritual body from a celestial level. This level expands into the entire universe beyond our moon, sun and galaxy. Like a radio wave, the vibrations travel through the universe, seeking every one of us. It is part of how we are able to create. Imagine that we are all sparkling gems. Our light reflects and shines outward, reaching the full distance of eternity and bouncing back to us with new knowledge and understanding; a of information that only some can comprehend, feel and communicate using this vibration. It’s a vibration of music and colour that is the language of light. The light and sound charges all mental, physical, emotional and spiritual bodies. Time stands still when you experience this sound of purity. The language of light is transferred to a physical body as a ‘,’ a vibration that enters as a ‘knowing’ without physical words. We create a thought pattern and then translate this to our physical language. As our chakras open the vibration, our soul is released, music starts to play and colour starts to form. When you are in tune, you understand the message of the sound and colour. The vibrations hold the stories about our soul, our life lessons, karmas and destinies. The sound and light store all these messages in our spirit body, which lies dormant in our physical DNA until our chakras are completely open. Those that understand the language of light don’t need to rely on words. If a medium or healer experiences the sound vibration, they are actually allowing the language of light to be expressed, flowing from the person’s physical/spiritual body that the medium connects to while working in their energy fields. Some people are carriers of the vibration, and sometimes they need an energy boost to allow the language to manifest. Therefore, they become the extension cord and the medium becomes the wall socket. Language of light, expressed through musical notes can be heard during shamanic journeys, healings and trance states, induced by meditation or hypnotherapy. Advance spiritual people are able to maintain proper chakra alignment with high frequency levels. They connect their energy to the Earth grid, continuing into the universal matrix of vibration and light.

Most children I have met that are born with this vibration are gentle, soft and endearing. They forgive effortlessly and are easy going. They can tell if you are lying to them, and if you do lie, even a small white lie, you will walk away with a guilty heart. The love that pours from their mere existence extends to all who encounter them. And because these children are so pure at heart, people are naturally drawn to them. Their calmness and angelic expressions will mesmerize the toughest of us all. These spiritual children have high ethical standards, and can become lost in their own emotions if they lose their sense of direction in life. When it comes to choosing their closest friends, they seek honesty and will not endure anything less. They are creative and artistic in all forms, seeking wisdom and kindness. Therefore, they are drawn to careers with children and the elderly. From a young age, they will be attracted to nature and love all animals. They are connected to the stars and feel pulled to astrology. Some mediums refer to these people as crystal children. Some would call Thomas a crystal being. , however, that we all come from the same source and are all playing our own music. We just need to believe that we, too, carry the light vibration, so we can push through our physical barriers. “We rarely hear the inward music, but we’re all dancing to it, nevertheless.” -Rumi

The Paramedic’s Story

Allan, a paramedic had heard about Reiki and was curious to try a session. He had been experiencing a few unusual things in his home, and wanted to figure out if ‘spiritual talk’ could help. I had never met him before, and explained that I would be examining his chakras by placing my hands above his body, and feeling, sensing or seeing to try and find out if he had energy blocks. He seemed eager to get started, as well as a bit skeptical of the ‘hype’ surrounding Reiki. As with most of my early healing sessions, the heart is where I noticed the shift

take place. It began with a slight cool breeze in the room and a presence on the opposite side of the bed where I was working. I looked across the room and didn’t see anyone in particular. But I could definitely feel a presence. I closed my eyes and asked who was in the room with us. Immediately, I heard a beeping noise. Then, in my third eye, I saw an older woman lying on a bed in a hospital. I asked, telepathically, who the woman was, but she didn’t answer. Normally, I don’t like to ask clients questions until after I do a healing, I prefer not to interrupt them from their relaxed state. I find if I ask questions, the client starts to overthink things and cannot get back into the healing. Because my clients will sometimes ‘see’ things in their mind’s eye, I avoid any conversation that may implant a suggestion. Asking questions would make Allan doubt whether his experience was real or imaginary. Allan began stirring around a bit on the table. This indicated that he wasn’t fully in a meditative state. Therefore, I chose to ask him if he knew of a woman who recently died in the hospital of a heart attack. He confirmed this was true, but it was what he said next that caught me. “Are you asking because of the heart monitor you can hear in this room?” My heart started to pound and my hands trembled. He shouldn’t have been able to hear what I was hearing. “You can hear the heart monitor?” I asked. “Yes,” he replied “Do you know this woman?” “Yes, she’s my aunt. Why is she hanging around and bugging me?” That was about the strangest, matter-of-fact way someone with little spirit experience had ever asked me a question. Usually people are more cautious, curious or even surprised at hearing spirit. Spirits of loved ones sometimes try to connect when they cross over. They have different reasons, often it’s to comfort the ones they leave behind by letting them know that life continues and they are in a good place. Sometimes, they feel they have unfinished business. Other times, they are upset and need a medium to help solve issues or concerns for them.

I explained to Allan that I ‘felt’ his aunt was reaching out to let him know she made it to the other side and would soon be moving to the light. Allan stated that he had experienced some strange occurrences in his home, like lights flickering, shadow movements and cool breezes, and didn’t know what or who it was. But now he understood that it was his aunt. He asked how to make the episodes stop. I suggested he acknowledge his aunt’s presence and encourage her to move towards the light with love. He left the session believing that with the afterlife was possible.

Dealing with Negative Energy and Spirits

Several people have asked me if negative energy exists. Specifically, they want to know if negative energy is capable of doing harm. Many people are afraid of the unknown or spirit world. They are afraid of opening up doors they can’t control. I think it is wise to be cautious of opening doors before knowing what exactly it is one is seeking. People need to be careful and make sure they know their intentions before practicing any form of mediumship or embarking on a spiritual journey. Prayer and meditation are always safe. But sometimes we want too much, too fast. We are so curious about the spirit world that we seek any means to help us discover mysterious worlds or realize power. One afternoon, a young fellow named Brad came into the bookstore, accompanied by his mother and his sister. Brad asked where he could find a book on magic. Curiously, I looked at him, trying to discern his age. I guessed him to be sixteen or seventeen and wondered about his experience with such disciplines. I glanced at his mother and saw she was impatiently waiting for him and not happy to be in the store. I looked back to Brad and asked, “What is your interest in magic?” He explained that he was curious about ‘spirit stuff,’ and thought anything about magic or spells might be an interesting read. I asked him if he had ever meditated and if he knew what chakras were. He explained he had no experience with either of them, so I refused him any direction to the books he was seeking. “I can’t rightfully sell you a book on spells, then, can I?”

“Why?” he asked, a bit perturbed. I explained that magic is really just manifesting, and that spells were rituals. I told him that both were too in-depth for a beginner without a solid understanding of the basics. I explained that he should first learn about his own energy centres, about grounding and setting good intentions. I explained that if he started out too quickly with too much information, he could get lost trying to find exactly what it was he was seeking. I suggested he start by buying a book on beginner meditation and chakras, that the best way to find what he was seeking was to meditate from within. His mother then showed some interest in the discussion. She asked what book I thought would be best and I brought them to the beginner section on meditating. As Brad started shuffling through the books, his mother decided to purchase a couple on various World Religions and disciplines. Rather than buy one book, they left with four. I was satisfied that perhaps this young fellow would develop gently, safely and find the right path, and that he would have a great start to understanding the power within. Our thoughts and actions are very powerful and we must be clear on our intentions.

The next story explains how using our power without fully understanding our intentions can lead us down an unpleasant path. Before I started reading cards for clients, I met Sarah, a young, gifted psychic. Sarah grew up in the foster system, not really having any family ties. By age twelve, she was already quite sensitive to energy, and learned to use her psychic gift as a means to survive. She started to read people in parks and on the streets to make money for pretty clothing and other things wanted. Sarah led a very transient lifestyle, moving across Canada, from community to community. I met her at a women’s ceremonial Sweat Lodge. A couple of months later, Sarah called me and asked if I knew people who wanted a reading. I wasn’t aware of anyone, but suggested she come to exchange healings and readings with a group of us on Sundays. She expressed interest as she was looking for a connection to people with similar interests. Sarah was in her twenties, and had long, thick, wavy blond hair that always

seemed a bit out of control. She was highly energetic, eccentric and overly glitzy. She was also humorous at times, goofing around and making everyone laugh and she constantly tossed her hair in the air, appearing extremely animated. Most people who met Sarah didn’t know that she had major mood swings. She erupted over minor inconveniences, such as her coffee not being hot enough, or being unable to find items she had misplaced. She was overly-emotional and had a really hard time grounding herself. In fact, she seemed to be living in the spirit world more than the physical world. Sarah and I had many chats about being balanced. I emphasized the importance of ing that, although we have spiritual gifts, we still have to maintain some type of order in the physical world. After all, it was the physical world in which we chose to live. For a couple months, Sarah and I met regularly. We read each other’s cards and meditated together. I enjoyed our time, but it didn’t last. Sarah seemed to be getting more and more depressed. Her mood swings were increasing, and, too often, I helped bring her down from major outbursts. I suggested she consider a healing session with me, but she was unusually hesitant. One day, however, she asked if I could ‘try’ to heal her. It was a strange way to request healing, especially from someone who believed in the ability to be healed by spirits. On the day of our session, I smudged the healing room, laid out fresh sheets and chose calming music. Sarah seemed awkward when she came into the room. I told her to lie down on the massage table, close her eyes and try to relax. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and relaxed her body. I turned the music on low and began the session, starting by drawing the Cho Ku Rei symbol in the air above her crown. I spent about fifteen minutes with my hands on Sarah’s head, eyes and ears. I moved to the right side of Sarah’s body, my hands hovering about four inches above her heart and solar plexus. Within a couple of minutes, I felt the atmosphere in the room shift. There was a presence standing to my left. I could hear music in the distance that was different than the CD I had chosen. I closed my eyes to tune in, and the music sounded like a magnificent organ, playing a subtle, elegant melody. I tuned in to the vibration of the music, and the energy in the room again suddenly shifted. I felt the hair on my body rise. On my left side I felt safe, but on the right side of my body, I felt another unknown

presence. It was something I had never experienced before and something I definitely did not like. In my mind, I asked the unknown presence to leave. I never had any unwanted or negative presence enter my sacred healing room before, so this was very unnerving. I tried to zone in on the location of my discomfort, which seemed to be coming from the ceiling to the right of me and above Sarah’s feet. The only way I can explain what happened next is to call it a Spiritual Competition. At my right, a terrible squeal came down from the ceiling, shooting towards me. The squeal was similar to what I imagined a Pterodactyl would sound like. The squeal flowed downward while the organ music flowed upward from the floor, pushing the squeal back into the ceiling. This back and forth battle of sound continued as I stood with my hands hovering over Sarah’s heart chakra. I was scared and wanted to stop the session, but I couldn’t. Somehow, I felt that angels were protecting me. I also knew Wind was with me. It was my duty to get through this ordeal and help Sarah. It felt like the sound continued for a very long time. Eventually, my fear turned to anger. I was angry that unwanted energy had entered my room. I also felt that Sarah somehow experienced this unwanted energy before. I didn’t know what she knew, but I knew that whatever this was, it was not good. Finally, I had enough. I waved my hands back and forth in the air, my signal to stop the healing session and break the connection I had to Sarah’s energy. The sound stopped instantly. The room felt normal again, and the coldness lifted. Sarah opened her eyes. Trying to remain calm, I asked her, “Tell me what just happened in here.” Sarah explained that she really wanted to heal but she was afraid something like this would happen. She had also heard the sounds. She said she didn’t want to put me in such a situation and that’s why she was afraid of a healing. Then she broke down crying. “What was that horrible screeching sound?” I asked. Scared, Sarah said she really didn’t know. She hadn’t heard that sound before, but in the past she had used a Ouija board. I thought about that for a moment. I had friends who had used Ouija boards. Some said they were scared because they were sure the planchette moved on its own. Others said it didn’t work. I had

no personal experience using one, nor did I ever feel the need. Honestly, I had heard some pretty good and bad stories about the Ouija. I figured that the intention of the s could have something to do with the outcomes of their experiences. Sarah then said she had also practiced “doing spells.” “What do you mean by ‘doing spells’?” I asked. Sarah explained that she would practice doing spells for people at their request, or that she would help other friends cast spells. She felt maybe she opened up too much and picked up a negative energy of some sort. I was dumb-founded by the intense session. I didn’t know what to say. Sarah saw the look of confusion on my face and knew what I was thinking. She had wanted to meet new friends and start over, to learn new gifts of love and light. I told her everything was going to be fine and we could continue sessions so that she could learn to ground positively in her personal power. As I considered the session, I ed a ritual once taught to me by a Medicine Man. Then I felt a presence on my left. It was Wind. “Help her,” Wind whispered. “She needs your help. That’s why she is here.” I was a bit scared, and I still felt vulnerable. My emotions were all messed up. “Well,” I told Sarah, “I have a sacred cleansing ritual you can do that will clear away any and all negativity you may be feeling. This blessing will only work if you truly feel love and light energy in your heart.” “I do,” she promised. The next day, I drove Sarah far out to a wooded area. I opened up a white cloth and placed sacred herbs in it: sage, sweet-grass and tobacco. I cut pieces of Sarah’s hair and nails, explaining that I needed her DNA. I then wrapped the cloth and tied the top with a piece of sweet-grass. I told Sarah she had to walk far into the woods and pray, explaining that she had to ask for positive light energy and healing. She would then offer the cloth bundle to the universe (by burying it or hanging it from a tree), while stating her intention of being cleansed and healed.

Sarah didn’t want to go alone. She was scared and wanted me to go with her. “No, I can’t,” I said. “This is for you, Sarah, and you alone, you need to have courage and be brave.” I told her I would wait for her to return. I figured Sarah should be gone at least an hour. She was back in fifteen minutes. I told her she was supposed to walk deep into the woods. “I know, but I was scared, and it’s dark in there, and I felt like someone was following me,” Sarah replied. “Well,” I said, “someone probably was following you. Someone spiritual, like a guide or someone to help you.” “Is that who the woman was in the woods?” Confused, I asked, “What woman? Tell me what happened in the woods.” She was shaking as she relayed the story. “I ran into the woods, looking for a good tree to tie my cloth to. I found a big fir tree and tied that sweet grass string to a branch. Then I got on my knees and closed my eyes and prayed. That’s when I opened my eyes and saw her. There was a woman standing in the trees looking at me. She was wearing an old fashioned full-length dress, and had long, puffy blond hair. She looked like an English lady.” “Did you talk to her?” I asked. “No, I didn’t say anything to her.” Sarah stared down at her feet. “What?!” I exclaimed. “Why not?” “I was afraid, so I just ran all the way back here.” I told Sarah the lady was most likely a spirit guide or an angel coming to help her. “Do you think I am healed?” she asked, almost pleading. “Well, that’s up to you. You choose your path. that we have free will, good choices or bad. There is always guidance along the way. You alone make

that decision. It is never too late to give up our way of thinking and find a new path to create.” I drove Sarah back to town. A few days later she packed her bags and moved. I never saw her again, but I pray that she chose the right path. Unfortunately, as humans, we don’t always make the right choices, especially in times of desperation and loneliness. Sarah was seeking acceptance and love. She was desperate to belong. She tried to use her power to make friends, but misused her power and only hurt herself. It is fine to manifest great things that we want in our life, but the intention should only be positive so that we attract positive energy in our lives. If our intention is to change others, against their will, that energy will be reflected back onto ourselves. Once, I had someone ask me to perform a love spell on a spouse who broke off the relationship. I refused, of course. Using a ritual to try to change how someone else feels, without their permission, is unethical. By using magic negatively, a person is trying to change the soul course of another individual. We must always that everything we do is a reflection of ourselves, even that which we do unto others. If we seek harm to another person, harm will come to us. Even if someone hurts us and we feel anger, we must overcome that feeling and send love. Because the love will comes back to us, instead of the anger or hatred in our heart. This is also the practice of Karma. What we think and believe will create what we become. I never wanted to believe that we could create bad energy, or that evil existed. This was a topic I avoided at all costs, perhaps out of fear of creating bad energy. I assumed if I didn’t believe in negative energy then it couldn’t possibly exist. Wind had tried occasionally to channel information to me around the topic of bad energy, but I refused to acknowledge or accept that this energy existed. I think Wind was trying to prepare me for its existence. After Sarah’s energy healing session, I realized it was time I tried to understand why and how negative energy exists. So, I telepathically told Wind I was ready to learn. The next morning as I was driving to work, I felt a ton of information enter my mind simultaneously. I started translating or channelling the energy into words. The channelled information explained that negative energy exists, as that is how our universe stays balanced. New souls are constantly created to continue a negative force. If any universe strictly had a positive force, there

would be no universe. The universe is like a scale with positive and negative forces that creates balance; it would self-destruct if tipped to either side. Thankfully, destruction is prevented because the laws and orders from Councils in the universe ensure that all planetary life forms remain in balance. If negative forces destroy one planet, another will be created to maintain balance. Furthermore, a new soul has the free will to choose a negative or positive intention. Negative energy is created by an individual’s own laws. For instance, if a person thinks stealing is wrong, yet they stole a chocolate bar and feel guilty, they’ve created a negative energy. Negative energy should not be misinterpreted as evil. Instead, it should be understood as a lesson to help with the process of evolution. It is not, and was never intended to be, used for violence and destruction. Wind was trying to teach me that one must accept there is negative energy. By accepting that negative energy exists, and that it has a significant purpose, fear of it vanishes. When fear is overcome, negative energy is no longer attracted. Loss of fear incurs loss of negative attachments.

Chapter 11 The Messengers

The Test

I had been feeling down for a few days when my friend April invited me to attend her family reunion, which was being held at an outdoor public park, in Langley, BC. I didn’t really want to go but decided to get out and meet some new people. It was a bright sunny day and the drive to the park cheered me up. When we arrived, I saw four picnic tables nicely decorated with serving trays full of delicious, tantalizing food. Well, I thought, if I didn’t like the people, I was at least going to get a great meal out of this venture. There were another five tables nicely laid out with dishes and glasses. I found a seat at one of the tables and was introduced to a few women and their husbands. I was feeling really uncomfortable, as these people seemed a bit too ‘upper class’ for my taste. But I politely tried to in on their conversations about success and family adventures, and pretended to be interested. After an amazing meal, everyone wandered over to an open lawn area where grass bowling and other games were set up. I wasn’t in the mood for games, so I sat at the table and watched. About a half hour later, I noticed a homeless man pushing a tattered old bike towards our tables. The man stopped at a garbage can, picked out a half-eaten sandwich and continued past our tables. He leaned his bike against a tree and sat to eat his sandwich. I was just about to go load up a plate of food to bring to him, when one of the women at the reunion walked up to the man and explained that we were having a family gathering. She said she would appreciate if he would find another area in the park to eat his sandwich. The man had not been sitting at our tables or bothering anyone. I watched in

shock as he politely nodded his head, picked up his bike and started walking away. I stood up from the table, anger brewing inside me. I looked at the woman, and was about to say something nasty to her, when I caught myself. There I was, at a reunion with ignorant people, but saying something would embarrass my friend. I looked back at the homeless man who was almost out of sight. I was so angry that I turned and started walking towards the parking lot, back to the car. April noticed me leaving and ran to catch up with me. “Where are you going?” she asked. I exploded. I started yelling that I couldn’t sit around with “those rude people” any longer. She paled and asked what had me so upset. I told her about the homeless man and how rude that woman had been to him. “Well, let’s go back and get him some food.” I yelled, “No, it’s too damn late. I am just getting the hell out of here.” April followed as I stomped off to the car. I sat quietly on the way home, replaying the whole event in my head. April said, “You’re really angry, aren’t you?” Having had some time to think about my reaction, I told her, “I’m angry at myself. I hate myself in this moment for being a friggin’ coward and not standing up for him.” The truth was, I was afraid of what people would think of me if I helped him. I feared what they might whisper behind my back. I was a coward. I asked April, “What if he was an angel testing us? They can do that, you know. They test us all the time. They come to see if we are learning anything about love and comion.” April replied that angels are also very forgiving. “Well, I failed. I failed that homeless man and I failed myself.”

I got home and apologized to Spirit for my choices. I said I would never let that happen again. I had made a very bad mistake by not helping him. The next morning, I was driving my car when I saw a homeless man pushing a cart on the sidewalk with a sign that said, “Will work for food.” I kept driving because I only had twenty dollars left until payday. I kept driving while my conscience nagged me. Damn it, I said to myself. Quickly, I turned the car around and drove back toward the homeless man. I pulled my car up beside him and beckoned him to approach my driver’s side window. He stepped down from the curb and walked over to the car. I rolled down my window and handed him my last twenty. The man looked at the bill, surprised, and said, “I can work for you.” I told him, “No, just keep it.” As I started to drive away, I watched him kiss the bill and hold it to the sky, saying, “Thank you, Lord. You sent an angel!” Then, he looked at me and winked. I drove away, wondering if he was an angel. I believe that angels are everywhere, but they are not the ones testing us. Instead, we test ourselves. We ask the angels to assist in our tests, so that we may learn about comion and love. When we learn about comion and love for all life, we begin to have comion and love for ourselves. We are the ones judging ourselves. We are the ones who choose our life path and lessons, and we will evaluate ourselves when we are ready to return home to our spirit bodies.

Cigarette Woman

After working too many long days and evenings, and a succession of weekends, I finally had Saturday night off. My friends and I went out on the town and danced into the wee hours of the night. The evening was a blast, until Sunday morning. Literally dragging myself out of bed, I slowly made it to the medicine cabinet, downed a couple of aspirin, and went back to bed. Around noon, I decided it was time to get my lazy butt up and moving. I made it as far as the couch, where I reached over to the coffee table and checked my

pack of smokes. There were two left. I took one out, stepped out on the deck, and lit up. Gross. I had smoked way too much the night before. Disgusted, I stubbed out the cigarette and went back to the couch, where I spent the better part of the day sifting through channels and dozing off. Later in the evening, I got up and smoked the last cigarette left in the pack. I decided I had better run up to the corner store before it closed. Still too exhausted to walk the mere five minutes, I decide to drive. I got my car keys, jumped in my car, and zipped up to the store. It had just stopped raining and the roads were a bit slick. Darkness was setting in. The store was set back off the road a bit, and there was very little lighting. I thought it was closed. But as I pulled into the parking lot, I saw the dimly lit open sign. Hurriedly, I entered the store and saw the clerk at the front counter. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the store. I walked to the back fridges to grab some ginger ale. That’s when I noticed a blonde woman crouched down on the floor, shuffling through the pop bottles in the fridge and mumbling loudly. She was wearing a long black jacket and tall black boots. I noticed the jacket kept falling open, and she grasped the collar, trying to cover herself. Seeing her bare skin, I realized she was nude beneath her jacket. I turned away and quickly grabbed my ginger ale. For some strange reason, I felt unnerved. As I walked toward the front counter, the woman jumped up and hurried after me. At the counter, she stood close to me and laid her arms across the countertop. Tilting her head, she said, “Oh, you have really nice finger nails.” She glanced down at her own, which were cracked and bitten. Nonchalantly, I mumbled, “Thanks.” I paid for my items and started for the door. The woman followed. I glanced back at the clerk and he watched us exit. Just outside the entrance, the woman stepped up to the left of me and asked for a cigarette. Not really looking at her, I ripped the cellophane off the package. She asked, “What town is this?” Before I could answer she said, “Oh right. It’s Mission, isn’t it, dear?” I opened the pack of smokes and handed her two. Smiling, she took the smokes and said, “You won’t be living here much longer.” Shocked and offended, I looked at her and said, “Yes I will. I love it here”.

She placed her hand on my shoulder and explained, “Yes, you love it in Mission. But you’re too sweet to stay.” I quickly looked away. Something did not feel right about this woman. And I noticed the streets were too quiet. Everything seemed hollow, like we were in some sort of bubble. The atmosphere was different, like our conversation had been slower somehow, and very focused. I turned back to the woman to say something to her, but she was gone. I started to shake. Was she actually here? Did this conversation really happen? Am I crazy? I looked down at the pack of smokes and two were missing. I walked the twenty feet to the edge of the parking lot, where I could see at least a quarter of a mile in each direction. The strange woman was nowhere to be seen. I ran back into the store and asked the clerk, “Did you see that woman who followed me out of the store?” “Yes,” he replied. “Do you know her?” I asked. “No,” he said, looking at me strangely. I went back outside. Where could she have gone? I would have seen her walk from the door to the sidewalk. I had only looked away from her for a second, maybe two. The clerk had seen her too, so it wasn’t just me. She had to have been real. Confused, I walked to my car and decided to drive around. I had to look for her. As I drove, I started to shake more because I knew I would never find her. Deep down, I knew she wasn’t real. She was a messenger, an angel.

Judaist Rabbi

One summer morning, I was restocking the bookshelves when a gentleman came in to buy some crystals. He explained that he was a Judaist rabbi with a

fascination for rocks and crystals. He was hovering over the antique table top, sorting through crystals, iring and inspecting each one carefully. I thought it was strange that a rabbi would like crystals. Curiously and discreetly, I snuck glances at him. When he finished selecting his crystals, he brought them to the cash . As he was paying, I thought about a vision I had with some letters and numbers: “YEXOD 2222-888-999 and a key.” I asked the rabbi if he knew anything about numbers or numerology. I explained that I was meditating and saw these neon green letters and numbers float down to me, and that I had been trying to determine their meaning. The rabbi asked what I thought was the meaning. When I told him that a shaman had told me the letters, Yexod, actually meant “God’s Code,” he agreed. I said the shaman mentioned that usually the word was spelt Yesod but my vision showed the word with the “x”. The Rabbi said the “x” was an older way of spelling the word but it meant the same thing. I said that I thought the 888 represented “Christ energy.” Again, he agreed. The 999s, I said, represented the “New Earth.” “That, too, is accurate.” I continued, explaining that I was having difficulty understanding the four twos. Searching various internet sites, all I could determine was that “2220” symbolized a prophet. Once again, the rabbi confirmed this was accurate. “But the numbers I saw were 2222. I can’t find anything with an extra two.” I was relieved to be talking to someone with knowledge on the subject. The rabbi explained that 2220 symbolized a prophet in the spirit form, and that the extra two was the human body that carried the prophet. He then paid for his crystals and quietly left the shop. A couple of days later, the rabbi returned to the store. This time, he approached me. He asked if he could have a word with me in private. We went into the meditation room. He seemed unsettled and I asked what was wrong. He said nothing was wrong. In fact, everything was perfectly fine. He was just a bit uncomfortable with what he had to tell me.

The rabbi began by saying, “Please don’t slap me, but the strangest thing happened to me in the middle of the night.” He seemed to be struggling with how to approach the matter, so I told him, “It’s okay, just tell me what happened. I’ve heard so many strange things lately that it would take a lot to throw me.” He went on to explain that at approximately 3:00 am, something woke him up. He had a vision of me floating at the end of his bed, wearing a translucent dress that kept changing colours. He said that I had told him to bring “myself” a message. “The message,” he whispered, “was, ‘pay attention to the sound and the colours.’” He said it was the most remarkable thing he had ever experienced, and excused himself. I didn’t know what else to say, so I thanked him for delivering the message. My soul self, or higher self, was somehow bi-locating without me knowing it. The rabbi’s description was similar to the story my counsellor told me about me appearing to him and giving messages about myself. The day after the rabbi visited, a female customer in her late twenties entered the store. Without thinking, and in an almost daydream-like state, I walked over to her and said, “Your mother is with you.” I knew the mother was in spirit, as I could see her, like a holographic image or translucent outline beside her daughter. As I spoke, the words poured out of my mouth. They were harmonious, like a musical note, a vibration that accompanied the words. I felt a pressure come out of my mouth, a smooth force of flowing energy. I immediately put my hand to my mouth and tried to speak again. The words were musical all over again. This happened three times until I just stopped attempting to speak naturally. The young lady looked at me, astonished. “Oh my goodness, how did you do that?” I didn’t know how. She brought some friends in the next day and gestured at me, announcing, “This is the girl.” She asked if I could “do it again,” but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how I did it in the first place.

Meeting Enos

In November 2004, as I was about to drift off to sleep, I saw letters floating towards me. The letters were the same neon green colour that I had seen in the Yexod vision. The letters were capitalized and spelled ‘ENOS.’ I recalled the vivid dreams I had as a child of an old wooden book. The cover was an inch thick and at least eighteen inches by eighteen inches in width and length. In my dreams, just as I was about to open the cover, I would wake, never able to read the contents and feeling tormented. I could sense how important this book was, and not being able to access was disturbing. I ed a vision I had a year prior to the Enos vision. In that vision, I was standing in a dimly lit room that smelled of old damp wood. The floors looked like hardened earth, and there didn’t appear to be any furniture. I turned my head slightly to the left and saw a tall white and grey haired older man watching me. He looked ancient. The man telepathically explained that he was a scribe, and nodded to the right of me where two other men stood. One had reddish brown hair and was holding a staff. I didn’t pay any attention to the other because, as I was looking further to the right, just past the men, I noticed a wooden stand with a big wooden book sitting on top of the stand. I recognized the book as the one I had seen many times in my dreams, and felt I at last had another opportunity to explore it. I looked down at my hands and then up again at the white and grey haired man, testing the realness of the situation. Hastily, I asked, “Can I look in the book?” He smiled and said, “Of course.” I walked past the two other men, taking no notice of them whatsoever, too focused on the book. I stood in front of the book with my hands shaking. This was it. I felt the wooden cover of the book. It was solid and thick, engraved with

squiggly designs and patterns that I didn’t recognize. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at the grey haired man and then, holding my breath, I slowly opening the cover. The pages were blank. I let out my breath and cried, “No. No!” I felt myself lift, floating upwards. I looked down at the old man, who was smiling. He said “I said you could open the book, but you are not yet ready to read it.” I fought to control my mind and sink back into the room, but to no avail. I continued floating upward through the ceiling and the roof, and into the night sky. Looking down one last time, I saw the old man standing outside on a cobblestone street. Looking up at me he said, “See you later, old friend.” And he winked. The vision now gone, I awoke in my bed, frustrated. I was so close to reading that damn book! I drifted off into a deep sleep mode. Enos! Could that old man be Enos? Who is the one called Enos? Somehow, I felt that he was the one who used my body to draw maps.

The Angels

I finished writing the story of my sexual assaults at 1:00pm on Sunday, January 24, 2016. Thinking about my naivetés, and feeling emotionally drained, I decided not to write anymore that day. At 2:30 pm, I decided to go for a drive into town to do some shopping and clear my head. I warmed up my black sport Honda, and turned on the radio to some nice mellow tunes. I began driving down the road when I noticed that my shoulder blades felt like they were being tugged. I drove a couple more kilometers and then my shoulder blades felt damp, like a coolness under my skin.

The week prior, when I was meditating, my shoulder blades felt like they were on fire. I also heard a strange humming sound, which seemed to be vibrating inside my body. This time, as I was driving my car, feeling the same sensation, I asked aloud, frantic and distraught, “What is going on with my shoulder blades?” In my mind I heard a clear message: “We are opening the chakras in your shoulder blades. Your seven seals are completely open. Now, we have to open the shoulders.” “Seven seals?” I asked. An answer returned: “Your seven chakras, the main seals in the human body, when all your chakras are open completely you will be ready to ascend to a New Earth.” I started to question whether the end of times was near with all the earthquakes, weather changes and severe storms. I drove seven kilometers down the road, thinking about the seven chakras or seals. When I came to my first stop sign, I stopped the car and signalled to turn left. I had another five kilometres to go before I reached the highway. Idling at the stop sign, I reflected on my Nanny’s stories about angels blowing trumpets, signalling the end of times. I wondered when the trumpets would blow. I continued driving, turning left and heading south. I forgot about my thoughts as I noticed a truck about three hundred meters ahead, parked on the road and facing north. I concluded that the truck was having problems, because it was stopped in the north lane but wasn’t pulled over to the shoulder. Then I felt a slight tingle of electricity run through my body, and slowed my car down. I felt on alert, focused on the truck ahead, like time had also slowed. Approaching the truck, I observed the driver. He had short dark brown hair, was maybe 5’9” and 160 pounds, and no older than thirty. His face was slightly oblong, but full. He made direct eye with me, and I couldn’t break my focus on him. It was his eyes and face that struck me as odd. His eyes were huge and his eyebrows arched. Then his face lit up with a big, bright, bizarre grin, and he started bobbing his head up and down like a bobble head. He had no teeth showing, but his smile remained stretched across his face. I was put off by his strange behaviour. What the heck was he doing? Maybe he was just really excited because I had stopped to help him. Then again, maybe he was just plain nuts.

A familiar emotion settled over me. It reminded me of when I first met Wind and felt beauty, peace and love all in the same instant. This time, there was also a charge in the air, and a feeling of acute awareness. Still looking me in the eye, the man raised his right arm and stretched it towards the enger door. Then he lowered his arm as if reaching for something on the seat. Holy shit, I thought. A gun. This guy is nuts, and he’s going to shoot me. But even with the split second of fear, I was paralyzed. I couldn’t turn away from him. The man pulled his arm back up from the front seat of the truck and began bobbing his head even more intensely. I saw that he held a trumpet. I was shocked, confused, and wanted to cry. Finally, he broke the eye and turned his face away from me. He looked towards the east, placed his lips on the trumpet and blew into it. Although his windows were rolled up, I half expected to hear the sound of the trumpet. But I didn’t hear a thing, only silence. I realized then that I couldn’t even hear my radio. With the trance state now broken, I drove away. I was having six different conversations with myself at this point. Is this real? Of course it’s real. Look at the truck. It’s real, it’s solid, it’s dark blue, has a cab, and one of the taillights is burnt out. If he was a spirit, he couldn’t possibly manifest a truck, especially one with a broken taillight, right? I approached the stop sign at the highway and phoned home. Panicking, I tried to tell Fred what had happened. Fred heard the panic in my voice and assumed I was in trouble. “What guy?! In what truck?! Where are you?” “No, no. I’m okay,” I insisted. “But…who the hell brings a trumpet to the back woods. Seriously?” After I got off the phone with Fred, I sat at the stop sign wondering if I should drive back. Deep down, I knew he wasn’t real. But the encounter meant something because I had just been wondering about the trumpets blowing. Once I started to drive again, a euphoric, beautiful feeling of joy flowed over

me, and tears started pouring down my face. I had met an angel. I didn’t see any wings, but I had definitely met an angel. An angel showed me that the trumpets were blowing. The sound of light in our chakras was beginning to vibrate at a higher frequency. The time to shift consciousness was now. Now was the time to prepare for a New Earth of peace, love and spiritual understanding. My shoulders continued to vibrate, my wings were opening and I was ready to fly.

Second Angel

On February 6, 2016, Fred and I were packing our suitcases for a short vacation to watch the Super Bowl with Fred’s family. Before we left home, I drew an oracle card, the message on it read; you are being guided and protected by angels, you are coming into your divine purpose. On the drive to the airport, I told Fred that I probably wouldn’t see another angel for a few years. “Why do you think that?” he asked. “Because this is my third major experience with angels, or multi-dimensional beings, and they seem to only happen about every four years.” “Well,” he began, “maybe they happen more and you just don’t notice them.” He had a good point. “True,” I agreed. “But I am talking about when they want me to notice them.” We chatted some more about the changes that were happening to the Earth, and how we were all responsible for preventing more damage. But we haven’t stepped up the pace enough to stop the destruction caused by fracking, nuclear weapons, pollution and other hazards. We ended the conversation by agreeing that we needed to trust that help would come from other multi-dimensional beings. I told Fred that I knew I had to help people understand what was happening, but that I was always worried about what people might think of me. I

feared public ridicule. The airport was an hour and a half away, and we had been traveling for a good hour when we pulled over to fill up with diesel. Fred hopped out of the truck and started filling up. Meanwhile, I was sitting in the enger seat, texting, when I noticed a red pick-up truck pull up to the gas pumps directly beside us. I felt a bit nervous and tingly. I glanced at the truck and saw a younger male in his late twenties get out of the truck. Then I noticed that he was staring at me, and nodding his head like he was listening to music. I quickly looked away and stared down at my lap. I realized that the man resembled the angel I had seen blowing the trumpet. But it couldn’t be, not again and not in a different truck. I was just being paranoid. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to look up again. I reached for my sunglasses and casually glanced over at him. He was still staring at me with a weird smile and bobbing his head around. Again, I turned my head away and wondered what the heck was happening. Fred hopped back into the truck. I didn’t want to tell him what I had seen because I thought he was going to think I was losing my mind. I sat quietly as Fred began to pull our truck forward. I assumed we were going to drive to the exit straight ahead of us. Instead, Fred turned the truck to the left and headed towards the northbound exit. I realized I was going to get the opportunity to stare this guy down, as we’d be ing right by his truck. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to take in all his details. But as we approached him, he opened his back door and leaned inside like he was searching for something. However, as soon as we ed him, I looked in my side view mirror and the guy was again standing by his truck, looking directly into my eyes, smiling and bobbing his head. That confirmed that he was not a real human. He was yet another multi-dimensional being or angel, sent to watch over us. After a few more minutes of driving, I got the nerve to tell Fred what I saw. “I guess you were right,” I said. “About what?” Fred asked. “It’s not going to be years between seeing these angels anymore.” “How do you know?” Fred asked.

“Because the guy at the gas station was one of them,” I said.

Men in Black

A few days before the gas station sighting, Fred told me he had dreamt the same dream over and over the night before. He dreamt that we were being watched by men in black, which made him feel uncomfortable. Fred, always my human angel, was starting to have some uncomfortable dreams. He explained how, in the dream, we were on a beach and men in black kept, “spying on us.” A month later, for my fiftieth birthday, we took a trip to Playa del Carmen. My brother had never left the country and he was excited to meet us in Mexico. We spent the first three nights in downtown Playa at a cute little traditional hacienda with a swimming pool. The first night, while eating some amazing Mexican food and drinking ice-cold Coronas, I felt like someone was ‘watching’ me. I looked to the busy street, which was crowded with vendors and tourists, and thought the feeling I had must have been due to the new environment I was in. But yet again, that familiar tingle flowed through me. I looked back to the street and instantly noticed a tall, slender Caucasian man with light brown hair and a slightly tanned body. The man was walking by and seemed to be staring at me. But when he realized I was staring back, he lowered his head and kept walking. I felt a strange energy come over me again, like a warning, but I ignored it. The next day, I was downtown having dinner, when I turned my head to the street and saw the same man. Again, he was walking alone, and glanced casually at me before continuing to walk down the road. That’s twice, I thought. Twice, I had the same feeling of alertness and saw the same man. Maybe it was a coincidence. Why would anyone follow me? On day three, Fred, my brother and I walked to the beach area and were having lunch at a nice resort by the ocean. I was having dessert when I looked up and saw the same man walking in front of me. I looked him straight in the eye, and he quickened his pace and took a sharp right, towards the resort washroom area.

I was stunned, thinking I must have imagined the encounter. Why would anyone follow me? I couldn’t tell Fred because he would tell me there was no reason for anyone to follow me. Wanting to forget about it, I started chatting with my brother about our next activity, which was snorkelling with turtles. The next day, we packed our knapsacks and travelled the thirty-seven kilometers to Akumal Caribe. I had rented a charming little bungalow on a quaint beach with sea turtles and a beach bar that served fantastic food. We checked into our room and headed to the beach for lunch. At our table, Fred and my brother sat facing the ocean and I had my back to it. After placing our food and drink orders, Fred frowned and looked to the beach behind me, saying, “I am pretty sure that man is following us.” The same feeling I had in Playa came over me. Following Fred’s gaze, I turned my head to the left and saw the same man. He made eye with both Fred and I before stepping up his pace and making a sharp right towards the back of the dive shop. We never saw him again, but I felt sure someone else would replace him, someone more careful and discreet. I was shocked and relieved that Fred had been the one to mention the strange man, that he had also observed him. I told Fred that I saw him three times before in Playa, and he explained he had witnessed him at different locations than I had. Then, I realized that the dreams Fred had prior to our vacation were a prediction of the near future. We were being watched. We didn’t know by whom, and we didn’t know why, but men in black were to symbolize an official group or organization. I dislike conspiracy theories. In fact, I avoid them at all costs. However, the reality of an unknown force with more knowledge than human beings possess was becoming a lot more feasible. No one, with the exception of those involved, would be able to understand its power. I had to trust myself. I had to be brave and keep writing. I didn’t have time to worry about others’ concerns or perceptions. I kept reminding myself that it was time, and that spirit signs were everywhere. It was time to pay attention to my heart and follow the truth. Fred always encouraged me to listen to my heart. I chose to obey, even if Fred was worried. Because I knew that I was safe with Spirit, and that everything had

a reason and a time. Trust.

The Difference Between a Human and a Pure Multi-Dimensional Soul

The angel with the trumpet and the angel at the gas station were only two of my encounters. I have had many others, and they tend to occur when I travel. It’s as though they guard me wherever I go. Whether I’m on a ferry or in an airport, the angels seem to be everywhere. I notice the angels all have common characteristics. They are all strange in some way. Some have a funny smile or act bizarrely, while others dress uniquely. There is always something unusually different about these protective beings. I realized the difference is they are light souls, not humans with souls. They cannot relate to human experiences. When a soul is born on Earth in a human body, it is pure and heavenly. Even if humans have past life experiences, we are each reborn as a pure soul. We adapt to our circumstances, to the parents we choose, and to the expressions and feelings of all the people surrounding our daily lives. We start to imitate and smile and learn about laughter and pain. Soon we find our own unique personality and begin to blend with our environments. We become a soul with a human experience. However, when a soul travels to our physical world and manifests a human body to relay a message, it lacks the natural physical experience. It tries to imitate us, smile like us and dress like us. But it doesn’t quite get it right. That’s the one big difference. The second difference is their vibration. Because they are at peace, souls are quiet, sure and knowing. When I see them, everything feels quieter, like time slows down. I feel I need to look away from them, like I am being rude by staring at them and invading their privacy. I cannot react or understand them as a pure light soul, because I don’t realize they are not human until it’s too late. Shortly after the experience, the frequency changes, it’s like I just walked out of a time warp. These souls feel strange to me because I am no longer a pure light soul. I have transformed into a soul with a human experience. I don’t have the

surety and memory of where I came from that pure souls do. And because they are pure souls, they can travel between worlds without physical density. When I am in the presence of their frequency, I sense that I know them from another realm. I search and search in my mind trying to , but I can’t fully relate. Therefore, I have to trust and wait patiently for these spiritual souls to guide me along my path until I return home to the spirit worlds, to an existence of immortality, as a pure light soul who is able to travel without limitations of time and space. I honour these beings because I recognize that, although they are on a different frequency, they are still the same as me. All universal life is playing different roles for the same purpose in our evolution, moving us towards ascension. We aim to become the highest being we can be, and to partake in the experiences of all the worlds our vast universe has to offer.

Chapter 12 Shamanic Journeys

Singing Out of Body

I decided to get a personal reading from a medium, and she told me about an shamanic journey at her shop. There was space for twenty people and the event was booking up quickly. I had no idea what a shamanic journey was, but the medium assured me that I would gain something from the process. Since shamanic journeys were fairly new to me, I didn’t want to go alone. I purchased two spots, one for myself and one for a friend. The journey would take approximately three to four hours. We were told to wear comfortable clothing, and that we could bring a blanket and pillow. At 5:30 pm, my girlfriend and I showed up at the shop. We decided to mingle a bit with the other participants, before entering the room where the journey would take place. There was no furniture other than a small table with a few objects, items I didn’t recognize. My friend and I ended up selecting spots apart from each other. My friend sat on the south side of the room and I sat on the north side. At about 5:45 pm, the shaman and his wife walked into the room. The shaman explained the process, stating that we would be participating in four separate journeys. Each journey represented a different element: earth, water, fire and air. He said that each journey would also have an intention. I don’t recall each intention, but one was for healing. The shaman started by allowing everyone to pick a message card from his Oracle deck (I picked a fire card). He went around the room and told each of us what our cards represented. He said my fire card meant that I would do something in the world. When I died, he said, everyone would me for what I did. The critical side of me thought it seemed superficial. However, I was

curious and it did seem interesting. The shaman told us all to get comfortable. We could stand, sit or lie down during the journey process. I chose to lie down on my back on the carpeted floor. During the first journey, the shaman started to play his flute and sing a soft song, which he followed with his drum. As I listened to the beautiful beat of the drum my heartbeat seemed to fall in sync, and I could hear little birds in the room. The journey lasted about twenty minutes. After each journey, the shaman went around the room and asked each person to share their experiences. Some felt the presence of animals like wolves, bears and cats. Others said they saw images, had personal visions and received some form of personal clarity. I was definitely hearing some things, like the chic-a-dee birds, but I wasn’t really seeing anything. For the next journeys, the shaman said we should visualize a happy place, a place where we felt comfortable and safe. The next two journeys were pretty much the same as the first. The shaman sang and played the drum, and I heard birds. I noticed that as the journeys proceeded, I was starting to feel different. In each intersession, I was having more and more of a difficult time opening my eyes and sitting up. I felt really heavy, weighed down and stuck to the floor. I would self-talk, telling my fingers and toes to move, and my eyes to open, until I could finally sit up. I wasn’t sure what was happening. When it was my turn to talk, I just explained how I was feeling and sat in a dream-like state. During the fourth and last journey, something different happened. I was lying on my back while the shaman was walking around the room, drumming. Then I heard an annoying noise. I listened carefully and realized the shaman was shaking some sort of rattle. Shake, shake, shake. Over and over, I could hear that darn rattle shaking. As the rattle continued, I began to feel pressure in my chest, like a suction cup pulling on my chest cavity. Then there was a feeling of something floating over me, like a person was lying face down, floating just a foot above my body. I felt like I was lying in dirt, like I could smell and feel the Earth all around my body. My mind jerked back to the rattle. Shake, shake, shake. Suddenly, I felt that whatever was floating above me shifted and stood up. I lay flat, listening and

feeling. Off in the very far distance, I could hear a gentle humming sound. It was a woman singing a note: “Ah, aahh, aaaahhhhh.” I thought it was Wind singing for me, so I strained, trying to hear her sweet voice. I was upset by the noise of the rattle, thinking that I wished it would stop so I could hear Wind sing. As soon as that thought entered my mind, Wind’s voice got louder and louder. Eventually, her voice was so loud that the rattle was being drowned out. The shaman seemed to realize this, so he started banging the drum again and playing the rattle at the same time. Wind was singing like an angel, the same notes over and over. The melody was high and low and soft, and it carried, echoing throughout the room. It was a pure sound, and the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced. The drum, the rattle and the singing were all in competition with each other, until finally the shaman hit the drum so hard he collapsed to the floor beside me. Instantaneously, Wind stopped singing. The shaman reached over and grabbed my arm. I opened my eyes. He looked at me and said, “In twenty-five years, I have never seen anyone do what you just did tonight.” Confused, I lifted myself up to sit. Everyone in the room was staring at me, and there was silence. The shaman asked where I was in my journey. I thought he meant “my happy place,” so I said, “I visualized sitting on top of a Tibetan mountain with the warm sun shining on my back.” He asked how I felt. “Fine,” I answered. He rose to his feet, watching me and asked me about the singing. “You heard that?” I asked, stunned. He looked at me, and then looked around the room before resting his eyes on me again. “Everyone heard that,” he answered. I explained that it was my guide, Wind, who came to sing for me. I was surprised. I thought only I could hear her.

Everyone in the room began to open up, completely dumbfounded and inquisitive. They raved about how amazing the singing was. They all thought it was a miracle, and the most beautiful sound they had ever heard, like an angel singing from heaven. One girl said the singing scared her because she felt it was coming from another realm and the whole world could hear. She didn’t understand why it had happened. Everyone else said they could have listened all night. The shaman then announced that the journey was over and he had some business cards if anyone was interested in a private session. As I was leaving the room, he drew me aside. “Here, take this,” he said, and handed me a business card. “I have a feeling we are going to be friends,” he said. Both he and his wife smiled and nodded at me, looking at me like they knew something I didn’t. At home, I ran a warm bath. I needed time to think and feel everything I experienced that night, and warm baths were my sanctuary. As I turned the water off and stepped into the tub, I said, “Thank you, Wind, for singing for me tonight.” Instantly, I felt a breeze flow by my right ear and a voice said, “You were singing.” I jumped back, pulled my foot from the tub, and started shaking. I stood there, digesting what I had heard. “I was singing? It was me?” All at once an incredible amount of emotion built up in me and I started crying. I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and ran to find the business card the shaman had given me. Shakily, I picked up the phone and tried to punch in his number. “Calm down,” I told myself. “Take a deep breath. Breathe.” I slowed down and punched in the number. The shaman’s wife answered. “Hi, it’s, um, it’s me,” I stammered. “I was the one singing.” “I know,” she said. “We were both wondering when you were going to realize that.”

She handed the phone to her husband and we had a conversation about out of body experiences. He confirmed that is what had happened to me.

On my second journey with a shaman, I decided to take my two nieces. They had never practiced anything spiritual or religious, and were curious. The shaman was holding a journey at a big hall. There seemed to be about forty to fifty people there, which was not as intimate or as personal as I would have liked. I told myself that it was at least a chance to meditate and be in the presence of spirit and the ceremonial process. The shaman walked around the room and smudged everyone. I explained to my nieces that smudging was used to cleanse and protect us on our journey. The calming smell of sage lingered through the hall. Then, the shaman started playing the flute and singing, and the journey began. Rather than individually sharing our experiences in the group, we were asked if anyone had a special experience they wanted to share. Some people in the north corner of the room said they felt wolves lying on their bodies. Others described similar experiences. My nieces and I heard church organs playing behind our heads, as if the sound was coming through the walls. I thought it was strange. The harmonious sounds reminded me of a catholic choir. Other than the music, the journey was uneventful for me. The next day, however, was a different story. My nieces had spent the night. We got up in the morning and had some breakfast as I answered some of their questions around spirituality. I explained that Spirit talks to us all the time. We just don’t always listen or pay attention. I explained how we may ask Spirit a question and the answer could come out of the blue in a conversation with a friend. Or the answer may come via a song on the radio or a physical experience, like lights flickering in the house. They were amazed that such things could happen. We decided to go to the grocery store and get some snacks for the movies we planned to watch. We were down an aisle at the grocery store when I thought I could smell pot.

“Can you smell that?” I asked the girls. “Smell what?” they both asked. “Like marijuana,” I said. “Like someone is smoking marijuana right here in the grocery store. They have some nerve.” I complained the whole time as I walked up and down the aisles. My nieces were very sheltered and didn’t have a lot of life experience. They were committed to their home life and education. I realized they had no idea what marijuana was, so they wouldn’t know what it smelled like. As we stood in line to pay for our products, I said to the customers around us, “Don’t you smell that?” Questioningly, everyone looked at me. I looked at the clerk and said, “Someone is smoking weed in the store.” “Really?” the clerk said. “I can’t smell anything.” “It’s so strong, how can you not smell that?” I asked. My nieces looked up at me and said, “Yeah, we can smell it. It smells like that smudge stuff the medicine man used last night.” Everyone in line was looking at the three of us like we were nuts. “Oh my God,” I said. “That’s it. That’s exactly what it is!” Embarrassed, I paid for my items and we quickly left the store. Once outside, we all started laughing. “That’s what I mean,” I told them. “Spirit works in strange ways. We were totally being smudged in the store.”

Walk on Water

I planned another shamanic journey at my store and had twenty people ed to attend. I only knew about ten of the people, most who had become regular customers. The shaman started his usual process of introductions, while

smudging and setting up the altar. He added sacred objects to represent the sacred directions. An eagle feather represented air, a candle represented fire, a stone represented the earth, and water was poured into a sacred bowl. I lay flat on the floor with my head facing north. Fred was lying to the south. The shaman started playing his instruments, switching between flute, drum and rattle. During the first three sessions, I heard a variety of animals in the room and saw flashes of brilliant colours swirling in my third eye. On the fourth journey, the shaman announced he would be focusing on the direction of water, to manifest healing energy. I lay listening to the vibrations of the drum reaching high above the room. I began to see green and purple colours in my mind’s eye. Then, I saw myself standing on top of water, in the middle of a lake. I looked down at my body and I was wearing a dress that was changing different colours. I felt calm and peaceful. I looked up and, toward the shoreline, I saw a woman standing and watching me. I telepathically told her, “Come, you can walk on water, too.” She was fearful and answered, “No, I can’t.” I encouraged her to take a step and she did. She took another and another and was soon walking on the water. As she approached me, she looked down at the water and started to sink until she was fully submerged in the water. I reached down and grabbed her arm from the depths of the water and pulled her back to the top. She stood beside me, holding my hand. I opened my eyes. The journey had ended. The shaman began making his way around the room, asking participants about their experiences. Before I could say anything, a woman who was lying on the east side of the room sat up and looked across the room at me. I knew her vaguely as a customer. She had asked to the group at the last minute. She looked back to the shaman and then, pointing at me, she stated, “I had a vision that she told me to walk on water. I was scared, but I tried to walk on the water and then I sunk. She pulled me out and we walked back to land.” When I shared that I had the same vision, the shaman said it was quite common for people in journeys together to connect to each other. Some will connect with one or two people; others will connect with five or six people. I was intrigued that I had connected with a stranger, and knew it was a message affirming that

we were all connected. I was also learning that when we conquer our fear, we have more capabilities than we are aware of. The journey’s lesson was self-explanatory. If you believe you can accomplish your dreams in life, you can. If you don’t, you will sink. You make the most of your life experience by trusting and believing in yourself. It was so profound, and so simplistic!

Jaguar

I had such amazing experiences during my shamanic journeys that I decided to book another in my home. I moved all the furniture out of my living and dining rooms, and cleared off the mantle above the fireplace so that it could be used for the shaman’s instruments and as a space for any items people wanted cleansed. I bought some bottled water and some light veggie snacks for the break. There were approximately fifteen people coming to participate in the journey. I was excited and nervous as this was the first time I had held such an event in my personal space. I wanted everything to be perfect. People began arriving and finding their spots on the floor. Everyone wore comfy clothes, and some brought blankets and pillows. Other than me, no other participants had experienced a shamanic journey. I was just as excited for them as I was for myself. The shaman made everyone feel comfortable. From the moment he introduced himself, his sense of humour was apparent, and he told a couple of jokes to make everyone laugh. He explained that there would be four journeys, with a break after the second one. He then invited participants to put any items they wanted cleansed on the mantle, and then we settled in for our first journey. The shaman started with the flute then brought in the drum. I could hear the chic-a-dee spirit birds in the room, and after the session was over, everyone said they had also heard the birds. During the second session, I was lying on my back on the floor, listening to the rhythmic beat of the drum. I heard a slight scratching noise on the wood floor,

like the claws of some animal close to my head. “Who’s there?” I asked. In my mind’s eye I instantly saw a black jaguar. Her green eyes were staring me right in the face. Telepathically, I said to her, “Well, if you are really here, make a sound for me.” She roared. It startled me, but I asked that she do it again. She roared a second time, and my heart started racing. I had a feeling of familiarity, trying to recall how I knew her. The drumming stopped, signaling that the second journey was complete. Everyone in room sat up, rubbing their eyes and glancing around at each other. The shaman glanced over at me and said, “Congratulations.” “For what?” I asked. “Bringing the cat into the room.” “Oh, you saw it too?” I asked, excited. “Yes,” he replied. “She was lying on the floor when we started the journey. Her body was wrapped around your head. She is your totem animal.” The girl beside me said she heard scratches on the floor and opened her eyes to look. She couldn’t see anything but still heard scratching on the wood. Other guests in the room began talking all at once, sharing that they, too, felt a large cat in the room, and that they heard the roar twice. Everyone was astonished. During the break, everyone went into the kitchen. People were excitedly talking about their individual experiences. Abruptly, we all stopped talking as the sound of the drum began again in the living room. A couple of us poked our head in the room and saw the drum vibrating on the mantle. But no one was in the room. The shaman said, “Well, I guess that’s our cue to start journeying.” The evening proceeded without the reappearance of the jaguar. A few nights later, I was meditating and I had a vision of the jaguar. This time was quite different. I felt my spirit body lift and float above my physical body. I was focusing on the shift into spirit body when I noticed my hands reach for the floor. I watched in

awe as my hands became paws and my arms turned to pure light before becoming jaguar legs. I was so shocked by what I was seeing that I jerked back, and my spirit body fell into my physical body. The quick transformation back to my physical body hurt. I felt a sharp pain enter my solar plexus and it took me a few seconds to open my physical eyes and catch my breath. I sat up in bed and, in that moment, realized that I was the jaguar. I was somehow shape shifting my energy into the cat. It all made sense now. The previous visions I had of the jaguar running across the dessert, and then roaring at the shamanic journey, had also been me. I was transforming my energy. At the shamanic journey everyone in the room felt the jaguar walk over them. The shaman even saw the cat. I was using my physical body to manifest my spirit animal. This was similar to how Wind changed into the spider. She must have taught me how to do this while I slept, for I did not the lesson. Finally, I was really starting to grasp the human ability to own our power and connect to the universe in all its capacities.

Mary Magdalene

From 2004 to 2006, I had numerous people tell me that I was “visiting” them at night. Some said I appeared in the centre of their bedrooms, wearing a translucent rainbow coloured dress. I would look at them and quietly disappear. Others said I told them to come to my store and give me messages. The messages were usually about colour and vibration being key to our spiritual evolution. However, the story that stuck with me the most was about a sixteen-year-old named Josh. I was teaching a chakra meditation class every Wednesday night and had a regular group of twelve to fifteen people. One woman, Kim, asked if she could bring her teenage son to a session. She thought it might be good to start him meditating at a young age. I told her that sometimes young people were ready to meditate, and if she thought he was ready, I had no problem with her including him in the next week’s session.

The following Wednesday, Kim arrived a half-hour early with her son, Josh. Josh was tall, slim and attractive with sandy blond hair and brown eyes. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, which is normal for anyone’s first time in a new group. I asked if he could help me set up the room. As we were setting up chairs and getting water, I talked to him about his school and hobbies. He said he liked all sports and did fairly well in school. I asked if he was interested in mediating and he honestly replied, “Not really, but mom wanted me to try.” He didn’t feel forced, but thought he would see what it was all about. That night, I did a light, guided meditation about setting intentions and creating abundance in your life. At the end of the session, Josh kindly thanked me and left with his mother. The following Wednesday, Kim came alone. She said Josh wasn’t that interested in meditating. I told her that was fine; he seemed to have a lot of other healthy activities in his life. The next week at meditation, Kim seemed a bit down. She said Josh left for a two-week vacation to visit his father in Quebec, and she was going to miss him. I told her I would focus on sending healing energy to her and Josh. I told her that, although it was just a vacation, I was sure Josh would also miss her immensely. Two days later, I got an excited phone call from Kim. She was talking so fast I couldn’t follow along. I suggested she come into the store for a coffee. An hour later, Kim showed up and said a miracle had happened. I was expecting some really big transformation or event. Kim said that at 3:00 am that day, Josh called her from Quebec. Apparently, he was sound asleep when something woke him up. He opened his eyes and saw me standing at the end of his bed, beckoning for him to follow me. He saw himself get out of bed and then he said it felt like he was inside a movie. He was guided into a dimly lit cave and I was beside him. I told him not to worry and that there was someone I wanted him to meet. He said everything felt surreal but somehow he knew it was real. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the cave behind him. Looking forward again, he stopped in his tracks. Josh told his mother that a beautiful woman with a light glow all around her stood before him. He looked at me and I said to him, “Josh, I would like you to meet Mary Magdalene.” Josh said Mary looked at him and smiled

and then nodded her head towards me. The next thing Josh knew, he was sitting up in bed. I was gone and so was the cave and Mary Magdalene. He was so overwhelmed with emotions that he immediately got out of bed and phoned his mom. Kim asked why I had introduced him to Mary Magdalene. I told her I really didn’t know. I had never had a vision of Magdalene, at least, not that I could recall. I told Kim that I felt Josh was blessed in some way and someday his gift would be revealed. I was confused. There I was again, back to the energy of Jesus and Mary. I was still unsure of the meanings behind it all. A couple days later, I asked Wind to send me a sign so I could understand my purpose. Why were all these things happening to me, as well as to those around me? “We are sending you signs,” she said. I replied, “Well, I need more signs because I just don’t get it.” Still frustrated and lost in thought, my sixteen-year-old daughter, Janaya, asked if I could give her a ride into town so she could meet friends at the rec centre to watch an hour of hockey practice. As I was driving, I was lost in my thoughts around the Magdalene vision. I pulled up in front of the rec centre and told Janaya I would wait in the car and read a book, or maybe go for a walk. Instead, I sat pondering all the strange messages I was receiving from people I barely knew. About a half hour went by when I received a clear thought, Look to the sky. I looked out my car window but couldn’t see anything. I got out of the car and looked up. The sky was wide open with only a few clouds lingering. I didn’t notice anything right away, but was soon drawn to a shape in the clouds. “It looks like a dog, or a poodle maybe?” I whispered to myself. I heard Wind’s voice, “A lamb.” “Oh, yes, I see. A white lamb. What does it mean?” “Follow the lamb’s eyes,” Wind replied.

I looked back to the lamb and noticed she was gazing downwards. I followed the lamb’s stare and almost dropped to the ground. “No way,” I said. “I can’t be seeing this. I just can’t.” There, suspended in the sky, in the formation of the clouds, was the shape of Jesus. His legs were crossed, his arms were spread wide open, and his head was slightly bowed, as though he were hanging from a cross. This is impossible, really impossible, I thought. Wind prodded, “Why do you not believe this is possible?” I looked away, walked a few paces, stopped and looked up again. He was still hanging there. I looked around for someone, anyone, I could show to perhaps be validated. But no one was in the parking lot. Another five minutes ed, and no one had come. Finally, Janaya walked out the of rec centre building. I glanced back at Jesus to make sure he hadn’t disappeared. Thankfully, he was still there. I quickly walked up to Janaya and held her by the shoulders. Looked into her eyes, I said, “Listen to me. I am going to ask you to look where I point at in the sky, and tell me what you see.” Janaya looked at me, perplexed by my urgency. “Okay, okay, what?” I held my breath and looked again to the cloud formation. It still hadn’t changed. I pointed upwards and asked, “What does it look like to you?” I had only taken Janaya to church on maybe four or five occasions, and I never had a bible in the house. I talked of Jesus maybe only a handful of times, so I wasn’t sure if she would recognize him. I expected her to say she saw a man. She looked at the sky then looked at me. Nonchalantly, she said, “It looks like Jesus.” I wanted to kiss her, cry, run, yell and scream all at the same time, because, to me, it was another miracle. But I tried to control my emotions. I didn’t want my daughter to think I was crazy. Calmly, I asked her, “Don’t you think it’s amazing that he is up there in the sky?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought he could do that type of stuff, but I don’t really know that much about Jesus.” She acted like it was no big deal. No big deal. My sweet little girl so innocently trusted what she saw, and didn’t question or dwell on it. Then I wondered, was I once as innocent as her? Did I somehow lose that sweet innocence? We got in the car and drove home. I kept repeating over and over how impossible it was that we had seen Jesus in the sky. What would it take to make me see what was happening? Jesus was trying to show me the Holy Spirit, and trying to make me believe in myself, to understand we are all one with the Creator. I was made in the creator’s image, containing the Holy Spirit that we all embody. This power, I knew, was within us. I realized the signs meant something immense was approaching. I had to be part of something to come. I had to find the belief in myself.

Part 3 A Humble Awareness

Chapter 13 Multi-Dimensional Lives

Mr. Tibetan Bells

One early afternoon, I was working alone at my book store, Peaceful Insights. It had been a quiet day. Not one customer had visited the store. I was becoming a bit restless and tried to think of ways to the time. I was also in the process of moving the business to a larger building on Lougheed Highway. I had already vacuumed, dusted and packed what stock I could to keep myself occupied. Then, while I was sitting behind the counter toying with my thumbs, the front door opened. A man carrying a small briefcase walked into the shop. Immediately, I noticed his clothing. He was wearing a tweed jacket, and a tan coloured shirt, pants and loafers. What attracted my attention the most, however, was his hat and necklace. His hat looked somewhat like a jester hat, only it had what looked like three Tibetan bells hanging from the tassels. The necklace, which matched his hat, featured small gold bells dangling from an exquisite looking twine. It was strangely comforting how well each piece complemented the man’s look. The hat and necklace didn’t even seem odd. I felt a sense of calmness come over the room. The peculiar man did a quick look around the shop and started to head for the meditation room. I called out to him, “Oh, hey. There’s nothing back there. It’s just a meditation room.” “I know,” he replied, before entering the room. I saw the man take a quick walk around the room before coming back out. He went over to a small table near the front counter. He set down his briefcase and gave me a sideways glance, saying, “I don’t know if I should stay or move.” I didn’t know what to say, but I thought I should give him a reading. Maybe he needed one.

Then he surprised me by saying, “So, you read people?” “Yes. Do you?” I asked. “Yes. But not like you do,” he explained. “Not with cards. I just tell people what they need to hear.” Our eyes locked and I felt emotions shifting within me. There was a quiet charge of energy in the room as I realized that we seemed to be telepathically communicating each sentence before we even spoke. He must be very psychic, I thought. I told the man that I was moving the location of the store to the main street. He nodded and looked at me quietly. We looked at each other for a few more seconds, and then he picked up his briefcase and headed for the door. He paused at the door. “How much do you charge for your readings?” “Forty dollars for half an hour.” “You must be very good,” he said, and stepped out the door. I stood behind the counter, dazed and feeling like I was in a trance. What just happened? Instantly, the answer came into my mind: “You asked yourself for help.” Immediately, I snapped back to the present moment, ran to the door and opened it. I looked up and down the empty street, but the man was gone. Back inside the shop, I thought about the evening before. I was lying in bed thinking about my future and questioning whether moving to a bigger shop while teaching meditation classes and reading cards was what I really wanted to do. I had mixed feelings. It was hard going from a ‘normal’ professional career in social work and corrections to this new metaphysical world. My friends had also changed. I lost some and gained others. My older friends couldn’t understand how I could change so drastically from a fun, outgoing party girl, to this new person who talked about spirits and other worlds. And I didn’t want to tell my new spiritual friends that I was a party girl. It was all so overwhelming.

I felt very drawn to my spiritual path. Finally, I felt like I was starting to know myself. But at what price? How drastically would my life change? I felt like my reputation in the ‘normal’ world was being damaged. Some people think psychics are weird, false or even crazy. I cared about what people thought of me. I wasn’t crazy, and I didn’t want people to think that I was. I was so confused. As I drifted off to sleep, I prayed. “If we truly do have a higher self, then I need help. I call on my higher self to help me.” Was the man who came into my store…me? How could that possibly be? How could that make any sense? Maybe he was an angel. Maybe parallel worlds really exist and we are living on different levels? Maybe it was me in the future, traveling through time. But what difference would that be to a parallel world? I had a bunch of new questions with no real answers. Fantasy and sci-fi movies focus on magic and thrilling s of adventure, allowing us to dream. Children read stories and watch movies like Peter Pan, believing that all is possible and real. Then adults teach children about pretend and fantasy. Believing that not everything is possible, we imagine and dream. As children, we go to school. We have all had those moments where we are in a daze in the classroom. The teacher calls our names several times to get us ‘back to reality.’ They assume we are tired and lacking sleep. Really, we are just ‘daydreaming.’ Or are we? Maybe, just maybe, we are in those other dimensions, exploring, ing, and believing, until we’re called back to the classroom. But what if it’s real? What if we co-exist with ourselves? Wouldn’t that feel like the law of one? Could we not all be the same spiritual beings, having the same experiences and connecting consciously to each other as one? Could the Cigarette Woman and Mr. Tibetan Bells have been representing my soul at different times in my present life, providing guidance? Maybe. Can the mind also control the functions of the physical body to the point of shape shifting? I believe so. But how do we explain predictions? Well, I guess the mind and soul can also master time and travel. We are Creators. Creators in Spirit.

UFOs

In the year 2002, shortly after the physical changes were happening to my hands, I had my first vivid vision of a UFO. I was lying on the couch trying to have a mid-afternoon nap when my cat, Luna, jumped on my lap. She started meowing and looking above my head in the air. I followed Luna’s gaze and didn’t see anything that may have held her stare. I told Luna to be quiet and tried to grab her to snuggle with me, but she pulled back and started meowing even louder, looking back and forth between me and the space above my head. I looked again around the room and sensed a presence. Too tired to care that there may be spirits present in the room, I hushed Luna. “Don’t worry, sweetie. They won’t hurt you. Mom’s tired and needs a sleep.” Luna stopped meowing and finally lay down beside me to nap. I had just closed my eyes when a clear picture entered my mind, like I was watching a movie. I was watching a chaotic event of some sort. Men, women and children were panicking and running in every direction. I watched as the Earth appeared to split open beneath my feet. Something caused an earthquake. I heard a voice in my mind say, “Don’t watch the chaos. Just do what you came here to do.” In the vision, I looked over my shoulder and noticed a big ship in the sky. It was a UFO, and I instantly knew what to do. I looked back at the people running and zoned in on a couple of boys, maybe aged nine and ten. I said to them, “You know what to do, right? You need to go to the ship. The ship will save you.” Both children nodded like they understood what I was telling them to do. Then a man ran up to them and grabbed their little hands, pulling them away from me. The man was panicking and he took off running with the boys, in the opposite direction of the ship. I opened my mouth to direct them to the ship, but again I heard the voice. It said, “Don’t think about the chaos, just focus on what you need to do.” I was heartbroken by the state of chaos and fear these people were in. If they only understood, they would realize they had no reason to be scared. I looked back to the ship and realized this wasn’t really happening. It was just a vision. I tried to make sense of it. “This can’t be happening, right?” Another message, confident and clear, insisted, “The ships are real. They will save you.” I began to panic and tried to open my eyes. But they felt glued shut.

The dialogue between the Spirit and me continued. “When and where will this happen? Surely not in my lifetime. Maybe in my next life.” “You will be here when this event happens, and it will be in this present life.” I forced my eyes open and sat up on the couch. UFOs! I couldn’t seriously believe in UFO’s as well. I was going to be one of those people who everyone thinks is absolutely insane! I didn’t tell anyone about that vision for a long time. My life was difficult enough without aliens. So I pretended the vision never happened. That same night, I went to bed early. My brain hurt from all the overthinking I had done that day. I closed my eyes and saw swirls of indigo flowing in my third eye. The colour looked like it was spiralling further and further away from me and into space. I felt like I was floating out of my body, following the funnel of indigo colour. I felt like I was going to have another major vision, so I allowed my mind to be drawn deeper into the colour, like I was blending with it. Then the colour spread out before me like ink dropping into a bowl of water, until the centre of the bowl became a clear picture of a beach. The next thing I knew, I was standing on a beautiful sandy beach with the ocean in front of me. I looked to the vast sky and, although it was daylight and the sky was blue, I could see the outlines of the planets in our solar system. I looked to my right down the long, isolated beach but didn’t see a single person. It was serenely peaceful. The atmosphere was quiet and still. There wasn’t even a breeze. I felt like I was on another planet. The stillness of the Earth felt so surreal. I turned my head to the left and saw someone slowly walking towards me. It was an old woman, walking with a slow, solid stride. She had very fine features with deep lines, causing it to appear weathered and full of wisdom. I asked who she was but she didn’t answer me. Instead, she held out a closed hand like she wanted to give me something. I reached with my right hand palm up to accept the offering. The woman opened her fist and grains of sand fell onto my palm. She looked at me and telepathically said, “Pick one grain.” With the index finger of my left hand, I gently separated the sand on my right palm. I used my thumb and index finger to sort out the sand until I had a tiny speck on my left index finger. A slight breeze blew over my right hand and all the sand from my right palm drifted back down on the beach.

She looked down at the one speck left on my index finger and said, “That speck of sand is the Earth.” She looked down at the beach and then up to the planets. I realized that the billions grains of sand on the beach were all the other planets in the infinite universe. How could I not believe that life existed beyond our world? The old woman disappeared and the sand blew away. I opened my eyes and lay in bed, thinking about how naive I was to think we were alone in the universe. I told myself that I would be less close-minded the next time I had visions that were beyond my immediate understanding. My next vision happened a couple nights later. I was meditating and felt my spirit body lift and float upwards. I could see my body on the meditation table below. In a flash, I was floating in space, high above the Earth. I looked to my left and saw a satellite drift by me. I was fascinated by such a perfect view of the planetary environment. The Earth below looked like something out of the movies. It was a stunningly beautiful planet. It was my home. As I stared proudly down at my planet, I felt a presence to my right. I turned and saw a man with a primitive looking face standing effortlessly beside me. He, too, was staring at the Earth. I smiled and looked back to the Earth, then again to the man. This time, his expression had changed. He looked terribly sad, and I felt a loneliness pour over me. I watched tears fall from his eyes as he stared at the Earth. I didn’t understand why he was so sad, so I telepathically asked him what was wrong. He turned and looked to his right and I followed his gaze. I saw another planet on fire. The whole planet was engulfed in flames. I immediately thought it was his planet that must have been destroyed, and I felt sympathy for him. He looked back to Earth and I sensed he was concerned now that Earth was fated for the same demise. I looked at my home and turned to his sad eyes and said, “Don’t worry. We won’t let that happen to Earth.” The man faced me with a shocked expression, and then looked again to Earth. My heart raced as I once again followed his gaze. He turned again and looked at me intensely. Finally, it all made sense. He was showing me the future of the Earth. It wasn’t his planet that had been destroyed; it was our planet. My home planet was fated to be destroyed by fire. No! This couldn’t be our destiny! Or could it? I was back on the meditation

table, with my eyes wide open. What was my purpose if there was no future? What, as humans, have we done to this sacred planet, this amazing piece of the vast universe? Could we save humankind from our own destruction? And if so, how? A couple weeks later, I was meditating when a man’s face appeared before me in my mind’s eye. He reminded me a bit of Hawkeye, from the TV series, Mash. He had dark, thinning hair, combed over to one side, and a narrow face. He looked at me with a snarly smile, and I smelled alcohol on his breath. “Go away,” I said. “I don’t like you.” His face disappeared and the vision shifted. I saw a helicopter land on a mountain. Then I saw myself emerge from it, carrying a small, black briefcase. For some reason, I was also wearing a black skirt, dress coat and dress shoes. I thought I looked too ‘business like’ to be on a mountain. (Dress shoes? Seriously?) I noticed a large opening in the mountain. I could see a huge metal frame and steel doors slide open. A tall, fair-haired man in a khaki green coloured military uniform walked out of the entrance. He stopped a few feet in front of the entrance, lit a cigarette and looked up at me. In what sounded like an Australian or European accent, he asked me if I was ready to go inside. I nodded and made my way towards him. I sensed Wind by my side and saw her in my mind. I heard her say, “Don’t worry. They can’t see me. Only you can. You will be fine.” I walked through the doorway of the mountain, noticing the rock walls and metal beams with big industrial lights. Again the vision shifted, and I saw myself sitting in an ordinary looking room that reminded me of a plain classroom. There was a big whiteboard on the wall in front of me where a couple of men stood talking. I was seated at a table at the back of the room, drawing something. There was a man standing beside me wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled up, and there were two other men at the front of the room. The man beside me was Caucasian, tall and overweight by about eighty pounds. He had white hair and reminded me of Archie Bunker, but bigger in stature and kinder. I couldn’t see what I was drawing. My head was down as I focused on the paper in front of me. I could see my right arm moving. The man watched, and every now and then, he walked to the front of the room to converse with the other men. Then, the men made some marks on the whiteboard. The white haired man walked back to my table and looked over my

shoulder to see what I was drawing. This continued for a few moments before I opened my eyes and the vision ended. A couple of weeks before I had this vision, I began drawing the infinity symbol. I was channelling a being from a different planet or realm, and I believed that being was trying to draw a map to illustrate the location of their planet. As I drew, my right hand widened and the veins rose with the energy flowing through them. Feeling the pull of the energy, I allowed my pen to glide over the paper, making lines with circles. Then it would make the infinity symbol, before continuing to create the crooked lines and circles. I understood that the beings were trying to tell me that they lived beyond infinity. Normally, that wouldn’t make sense as infinity is never ending, but the symbol was the best way they could communicate with me. Perhaps they meant that they lived beyond our galaxy or in another dimension. Shortly after I met Fred, I had a vision that found me standing on a military base, watching a huge spaceship land. The spaceship was oval shaped, platinum coloured, and sat on long metal legs. In the vision, I noticed that Fred was standing to my left. I appeared perturbed. I looked at Fred and said, “Hey, what are you doing here?” He just smiled and looked away. Confused, I stared at the ship again. There was a line of armed military men outside the ship. I began to telepathically communicate with the beings in the ship. “Don’t come out. They will hurt you.” I received a telepathic reply. “Don’t worry. They can’t hurt us. We have a shield.” The ship’s large door opened, and stairs descended to the pavement. I saw a gracious looking being make his way down the stairs. He was very tall, with a long neck, arms and torso. His head was similar to a human head, but it was larger and hairless. The being’s skin tone was a mix of beige and grey, and he was wearing a long emerald green robe. I made eye with him, and the most amazing feeling of peace flowed over me. I looked over to the captain of the military team and watched as he fell to his knees, put his hands to his face

and cried. The men laid their weapons on the ground. It wasn’t an act of surrender. Instead, it seemed like they were overcome by euphoric feelings of peace and love. I somehow understood that everything would be fine and we would be saved. A few months later, I was sleeping when something woke me early in the morning. I lay in bed, listening to a strange humming sound. The sound grew louder and louder, and the bedroom began to vibrate, as if some frequency was pulsating through the room. The sound seemed to be coming from outside, above the house. I closed my eyes and tuned in. Suddenly, I realized that there was a UFO hovering above my house. I couldn’t see it; I just knew it was there. I panicked, pulling the covers over my head and repeating in my mind that I was not ready. I was not ready to face these beings, even though I truly believed they were kind and loving. I just could not overcome my fear. I fell back asleep, and the humming was gone when I woke up the next morning. That day, I thought little of my experience. The next day, I went out dancing with my girlfriend. When I got home at 2:00 am, I was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep. That morning, Fred got up early, made coffee and waited for me to wake up. Sleepily, I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Over breakfast, Fred shared a story about a strange occurrence he experienced while I was out dancing. He had been sound asleep, and then the bedroom started shaking. Fred bolted awake and thought for sure that it was an earthquake. It was midnight, and Fred jumped out of bed and ran to the living room. His son and daughter were still up with their friends, watching movies. He asked the kids if they had felt the earthquake. Startled, the teens looked at him and shook their heads. When Fred went back to bed, he heard a strange buzzing noise. The noise kept getting louder. Once again, he got out of bed and asked the kids if they had heard a noise. They hadn’t. By this point, I had been moved in for a bit, and the kids were used to strange conversations and occurrences in their home. But Fred was worrying them. He told them it must be something in the bedroom, and went back upstairs. He said the sound continued for what seemed like five minutes and then stopped. “I am pretty sure the sound was a UFO,” He said, matter-of-factly. “Ohhh,” I said, excited. “That happened to me the night before. I just forgot to

tell you.” “What?” I nodded. “I got scared so I covered my head with the blankets until it stopped.” “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked. “I don’t know. I guess I was too scared to do anything.” “And you didn’t bother telling me about it the next morning?” he asked, baffled. “What?” I didn’t understand his concern. “How in the name of God could you possibly forget to tell me something like that?” he demanded. “Shit happens to me all the time,” I replied. “And if I told you every strange thing that happened to me, I would never shut up. You already say I talk too much. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I think it really did just slip my mind.” Fred was beginning to understand that living with a medium was very different than living with anyone else. In the two months we had been living together, he had already experienced his fair share of the mysterious things that happened in my world. That night, something woke me again. Lying in bed, I noticed a strange looking object floating above my husband’s heart chakra. It appeared to be a diamond shaped orb. The thing was about eighteen inches in height and twelve inches wide. As I stared in shock, the object seemed to turn and look at me. Once it realized I was watching, it zoomed away and disappeared into thin air. I was startled, and a strange, familiar feeling of faintness came over me. After that, I noticed similar shapes appearing in photographs of my husband. There would be one more occurrence that week. One day, I was driving down Dewdney Trunk Road, heading west, when I noticed something in the sky. I looked out my driver’s side window and saw a huge pink ball of light traveling at a high speed across the sky. At first, I thought it was the sun. It was like a big fire ball. The colour was so stunningly vibrant. I had never seen anything so beautiful. I sped up, keeping the ball of light in view. I reached for my cell and

phoned Fred. “Fred, you would not believe what I am doing right now. I am following this amazing ball of light. It’s flying across the sky so fast. It’s the prettiest colour I have ever seen.” “Really? That’s cool. What direction is it heading?” “Towards the mountains. Whistler area, I suppose.” I was trying to keep up with the light. But I got stopped at a stoplight. I looked at the people waiting to cross the street and observed the drivers ing by me. “You know what’s really weird?” I asked Fred. “No one seems to care. I mean, people are not even looking at it, even though it’s impossible not to notice it.” “Sweetie,” said Fred, “that’s because you are the only one seeing it.” “What?” I asked, confused. I looked around again. He was absolutely right. No one else could see it. The light turned green and I continued through the intersection. “Fred, I don’t get it. How could no one else see it? It was so bright and amazing.” “It was for your eyes only,” Fred explained. “You believe, so you see.” I hung up the phone and drove to a restaurant where I was meeting a friend. I was too distracted to really enjoy my lunch, so we finished eating and parted ways. I later realized that I was seeing into another dimension. I tried to rationalize how I could see the pink ball of light. I thought of two possible reasons: (1) Our brain lives in a three-dimensional world, so we are conditioned to not see other dimensions. However, if my mind is connected to my soul’s memories, then my brain is open to seeing in this lifetime. I believe we are immortal beings

and that we never die. We just move to a different world. If we use our minds to connect to our souls’ memories, our brains begin to understand that there is more than a 3D world. (2) The object or being that I saw, allowed me to perceive it. I believe that life or energy in other dimensions is capable of selecting who can be a witness to its existence. When I was channelling other planetary life energies, and drawing maps of their star systems, the thoughts that accompanied the drawings were quite clear. These other worldly beings do not want to interfere with our free will. They realize that many would not be able to cope with their existence due to limited belief systems. However, this life energy has channelled the message through me that they must soon allow all to witness their existence in order to save humanity. They have had master plans since the beginning of our time, knowing that we would evolve to the point of self-destruction if we didn’t change our reality and perceptions. We need their knowledge to guide us to the New Earth. The New Earth is a world already formed exactly like Earth, but in another dimension, ready for our shift. In order to help humankind believe and prepare for the transformation, many people have been channelling new ideas for books, movies, music and colour therapy. The television, movies and books about dimensions, portals and time travel have been designed on purpose. Because humans tend to focus on the negative more than the positive, many of the books and movies tend to depict other life forms as if they are here to hurt us. In actuality, these life forms are here to save us. More people are purposely being allowed to witness UFOs in order to help alleviate some of the panic when they arrive. The following story is meant to illustrate how our belief systems can limit our ability to see multi-dimensional realities. In the prairies of Saskatchewan, twelve-year-old Carly was outside playing on her trampoline. She was jumping up and down, doing some flips and enjoying the warm summer weather. Mid-air, she noticed some movement in a small treed area of the property. She stopped jumping and stood looking at what appeared to be a small flying saucer, which was zigzagging slowly through the trees. Fascinated, she hopped off the trampoline and started towards the woods. The object then stopped and hovered a few feet in the distance, as though it was

watching her. Carly felt like she had to follow the saucer. She started to approach it when she heard her dad calling for her. She turned around and saw her dad’s pale face staring at the object. Carly took a few more steps towards the object, entranced by the mystery of it. Her dad yelled, “Carly get away, get away! Get in the house right now.” Carly said she hesitated because she really wanted to study it more. Again her dad yelled, “Leave. Now!” And he started to run toward the object. Carly said the object quickly shot off through the trees. She watched as her dad tried to chase it. But he couldn’t keep up, and the object disappeared and was never seen again. Being as I was a close friend to the family, I called to talk to her father about his experience, but he denied seeing or chasing anything. I tried to question him further, but he said, “Lorene, I don’t believe in those things.” “But Carly said you chased it away from her,” I argued. “Why would she even want to follow something like that?” His sounded defensive. “Something like what?” I asked. “Never mind. I don’t want to discuss what happened that day. Leave it alone.” “But you saw something. You chased something through the woods,” I insisted. He hesitated before saying, “I just can’t talk about it, Lorene. You know I don’t believe in the supernatural. Whether I saw something or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s my belief, okay?” I agreed to drop the subject. Carly said that since that experience, she has seen similar things on a few occasions. On at least two occasions, witnesses were present. She thinks of the sightings as some type of ‘probe,’ watching us to see what we are doing and

trying to communicate. Carly said she has witnessed other probes that are even smaller than the one she saw that day with her dad. The smallest ones move very quickly. “When they observe you, they hover in front of you. Then they just zoom off and vanish.” Carly does not feel threatened by the probes. She says they seem more curious than harmful. Carly said that one night she and her boyfriend were outside having a cigarette when she saw one flying around her house. She pointed it out to her boyfriend, who watched for a second before putting out his cigarette. As he headed back inside, he said, “This is fucked.” Carly said she laughed at him. “I think it’s cool when other people see what I see,” she explained to me. “It confirms that these ‘things’ really exist.” Carly’s dad isn’t ready to accept that type of reality, which is perfectly fine. We are not here to judge other people’s personal beliefs. Some people choose to stay in a third dimension and others choose to create another reality. One is no better than the other, as we are all evolving through our personal journeys. As immortal beings, we have many lifetimes to experience many levels of reality. This is a consequence of free will. Pushing a concept on someone is not the way to do things. People have to decide what belief system they wish to follow. None are wrong. They all lead to the same place. There are spirit guides, angels and human guides in every corner of the Earth and they are here to help transcend you to whatever reality you wish to reside in. For me, that reality is living in a peaceful world, where there is only immortal life full of all loving benefits the universe has at hand.

Chapter 14 Sweat Lodge and Spirit Guide

Sometimes spirit guides are people who lived on Earth and recently ed over. They lead a spiritual life on the Earth plane and choose to continue their work in the spiritual realm. They can start their work in the spirit plane shortly after entering their spirit bodies. The next story demonstrates humans who continue their work from the spirit realms and their ability to connect with people struggling on the Earth plane. I was tired and frustrated with my spiritual growth. There I was, having all these great visions and physical experiences. But I was also spending all my time with other people, teaching them to develop, rather than learning about myself. One day, I was alone in my store when I tossed my hands up in the air and said, “I quit!” I decided I was no longer going to participate in any more spiritual work. I was tired and I didn’t know what the heck I was doing anymore. So I sat, staring at my hands and thinking about my options. That’s when I heard the doorbells chime. An older gentleman had walked through the door. Adam was a tall and lanky man with greying hair, a thin face and a nice, calm smile. He approached the desk and invited me to a spiritual celebration that was soon to take place. I was only half listening. I had no interest in traveling seven or eight hours to some spiritual event where I wouldn’t know anybody. He continued, explaining how a man named Scott, who welcomed like-minded people from all over the world, hosted the gathering. “I feel that you really should go,” he urged. I was about to refuse when I began to feel a sharp pain running up my right leg. I started rubbing my leg, wincing with severe pain. The pain persisted, and I knew if I didn’t figure out whose pain I was feeling, I would continue to experience the discomfort. “Does your leg hurt?” I asked Adam. I tried to focus, when the thought of a

female who recently died entered my mind. I told Adam it was the spirit of a woman who had recently ed. I said she had spiritual work to do here on Earth that she was continuing to do from the spirit world. Adam smiled. “Oh my goodness, you’re talking about Julie. She was Scott’s wife. She died a couple weeks ago from complications related to a leg infection of some sort.” He continued to explain how Julie and Scott held the spiritual celebration every year at their property, and that this would be the first year without Julie. As soon as I acknowledged Julie, the pain in my leg immediately went away. I realized this was a sign that I should attend the celebration. Adam gave me Scott’s phone number, and I called him to explain about the pain in my leg. He was ecstatic, as he had been receiving all sorts of stories from people from all over the world who knew Julie and who were having dreams about her. I didn’t know her, so I wasn’t sure why I felt her presence. Scott invited me to attend the celebration, which he said was at his resort. I made arrangements to meet him in three weeks’ time. Adam suggested I attend an Aboriginal sweat lodge to cleanse and prepare for the celebration. I had never attended a sweat lodge ceremony, but had heard they were sacred and healing. I found it a strange coincidence that Adam walked through my door the moment I turned my back on spiritual work. It was becoming clear to me that this was a sign. Adam explained how I should prepare for the sweat lodge ceremony. I was to wear a long, comfortable cotton dress, drink a lot of water, and try to fast before the ceremony. I did as instructed, but ate some fruit to ward off my hypoglycaemia. The following Wednesday morning, I excitedly woke to the sound of chick-adees chirping outside. It was a beautiful summer morning. Set up at a beautiful camp ground, Fred and I had decided to move into our RV while deciding where to buy our new house. I opened the door to the RV and looked across the pond to the neighbours’ bird feeders. All the little birds were diving for food. My stomach started to growl, so I grabbed an apple and sat outside on a chair by the pond. The sweat lodge ceremony wasn’t until 1:00 pm, so I had the morning to myself. With my eyes closed, I listened to the birds and wind in the trees. I sat in

quiet meditation for about an hour. Just after 10:00 am, my eyes shot open. I realized I had nothing to wear for inside the lodge. I jumped up, ran to the RV, and hurriedly went through every small closet and storage container. But I couldn’t find anything suitable. I only had two hours to find something and get ready, and I still had to drive one hour to the location of the ceremony. I grabbed the keys to my car and sped into town. I dashed into the first used clothing store I could find. I sifted through the long dresses on all the racks. Everything was too big, too small or too revealing. This is why I hate clothes shopping. You can never find what you need without hours of wandering. And time was not on my side. I decided to try another store. As I walked towards the exit, I noticed a rack of pyjamas. I sorted through all the pyjamas until I found exactly what I was looking for: a heavy cotton nightie printed with blue flowers. It looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie. All that was missing was the night cap. Perfect. I purchased the gown for two dollars and left the store. At that point, it was almost 11:00 am. I looked across the street at the laundromat, but there was no time to wash and dry the used nightie. I took a quick sniff. It was a bit stale but not overly bad, and it would just have to suffice. I drove back to the RV and shoved the nightie, a towel and a bit of fruit into a plastic grocery bag before headed out towards Harrison Hot Springs. The drive to Harrison is one of my favourites. The mountain road was lined with big old growth trees and views of the Fraser River. The spellbinding drive worked to calm my mind and body before the ceremony. I made the right hand turn to Agassiz, and headed towards the mountains. Following the directions Adam had given me, I turned left, then left again, and continued down the road until the plain brown house came into view. There was a dirt driveway leading to the back of the house. I pulled in, drove to the house and parked. I got out of the vehicle and looked around. There didn’t appear to be anyone home. I noticed a path leading further into the back yard, which looked more like an overgrown forest. Unsure what to do, I reached into the car and pulled out my plastic bag. I approached the front door of the house, and a woman yelled out the window, “Are you here for the sweat?”

“Yes,” I replied. She gestured to the woods. “Just walk down the path until you come to it. You can’t miss it.” I turned and nervously headed towards the forest. My knees felt a bit wobbly, not from hunger, just nerves. I had only walked about fifty yards when I came to a circular clearing among the trees. The ground was quite level, and a few logs lined the edges of the circle. The sweat lodge was at the south end of the clearing, tucked in among some fir trees. There was no one else there. I sat on one of the logs, taking in the details of the area. The sweat lodge was the shape of a small dome, only about eight feet in diameter. The lodge was covered with colourful blankets. Tree branches poked through the edges of the blankets. There was a small arch in the front of the lodge with a blanket hanging over it. I guessed that it was the entrance. A large bucket of water with a cedar branch covering it was sitting to the right of the entrance. I wondered if there was anyone inside the lodge. In the centre of the clearing, there was a small fire pit with freshly lit cedar wood stacked like a tipi. I noticed some big grandfather rocks were heating in the middle of the stack. The smell of smoke lingered in the air. Allowing my eyes to wander further, I could make out small paths through the trees surrounding the clearing. The trees were a mixture of birch, fir, spruce and cedar. Getting restless and a bit paranoid, I began to feel like someone was watching me from the trees. It was very quiet that day. There wasn’t even a breeze. It seemed like I sat there alone for a very long time, and I was starting to get impatient. Finally, about a half an hour later, I heard voices coming down the path. Adam showed up with an Aboriginal man, who he introduced to me as a “medicine man.” The medicine man was going to smudge me and prepare me for the ceremony. Adam left to gather the rest of the participants, but I had the feeling he wanted to leave me alone with the medicine man. I watched the man quietly lay out his sacred items. He placed a bowl, a drum and some medicine pouches on a log and finally unwrapped two large eagle wings from a leather hide. The man motioned for me come closer to him. I stood up from the log I was sitting on and walked over to face him. He got me to stand in

the centre of the clearing with my back to the lodge. He told me to spread out my arms like wings. I did as he asked and he began to recite words in his language. As he talked, he prepared the smudge in a stone bowl with his medicines. He then took a match and lit the ingredients. The medicines in the bowl ignited for a second with a small flame before simmering down to a smoldering sweet smelling smoke. The man nodded and started brushing the smoke back and forth with his eagle feathers. Then he looked at me and pushed the sweet smoke towards my head, face, arms, torso and legs. He motioned for me to turn and did the same process from behind. He turned me to face him again and then stepped to the side of me and placed an eagle wing on my torso and one on my back and flapped each wing three times, then held the wings tight to my body. This was a new experience for me, a different way to be smudged. It felt so amazing, like I was wrapped up in the eagle’s energy, warm and comforting. When the medicine man finished, he told me to go sit quietly and wait for the others. I went back to the log and sat. Finally, two women and two more men came down the path. That made six of us. The women and men were wearing shorts and long t-shirts. They looked at my nightie, smiling. I shot Adam an unimpressed look. He smiled and looked away. I could have worn shorts? Seriously? The medicine man smudged each of the newcomers. Then he had one of the men smudge him. I noticed he didn’t wrap the others in the eagle wings like he had with me. In fact, he only took few seconds to smudge each person. My smudge also seemed like it took longer. I then understood I had been deliberately left alone with the medicine man. After everyone was smudged, we were told to go inside the lodge. I followed the two women. We crouched down and entered the lodge door. The roof was only about five feet high so we crawled on our hands and knees to the left side of the circle. The men crawled to the right side. The design of the lodge was visible with many branches criss-crossing. There appeared to be eight main trees bent to form the dome and other thinner trees weaved through the sides. The ground was smooth with packed dirt, and there was a small shallow pit in the centre. The ground was surprisingly cool. The medicine man entered and the fire keeper stayed outside. The medicine man explained that there would be four rounds of sweat ceremony and medicines. He

explained that if at any time anyone was uncomfortable, they could leave the session by exiting the door. He then told the fire keeper to send in the grandfathers, which were the hot rocks. Using a shovel, the fire keeper ed rock after rock through the entrance and into the pit. After twelve rocks were placed into the pit, the medicine man told the fire keeper to bring the pail of water inside. A feather was handed around the circle. We could choose to state our intention or remain quiet. Each person said something personal and concluded with, “All My Relations.” I understood that meant the same as me saying, “Amen.” Awkwardly, I mumbled thank you to everyone for having me, and handed the feather off repeating, “All My Relations.” One of the women leaned into me and said I could hold the towel on my lap in case I needed to cover my face. I told her I would be fine. She smiled and bowed her head. The medicine man then took the cedar bough and dipped it deep into the bucket. I jerked back as he quickly whipped out the branch and swung it at the rock pit. Burning hot steam instantly filled the lodge. I scooted back from the pit, towards the wall, squeezing the towel in my hands. It was so hot in the dome that I could barely breathe. Shocked, I took in a couple of slow deep breaths. My throat felt like it was burning. The men and women started singing and playing their drums. I would just start to feel some relief from the heat, when the medicine man again dipped the cedar bough into the buckets to throw more water on the rocks. This continued for the longest ten minutes of my life. I didn’t hear a word they were saying or singing. I was too focused on trying to breathe. Finally, the medicine man announced the first round was complete and we could exit the lodge. I couldn’t crawl out of there fast enough. Everyone climbed out and went to a couple of buckets of water near the trail, which I hadn’t noticed before. They dipped small pots in the buckets and poured cool water over their heads. I stumbled to a log and sat there trying to figure out why anyone would find pleasure in torturing themselves this way. One of the women came over to where I was sitting and offered me a bottle of water. Gratefully, I accepted it and took a long, slow swig. She asked if I was okay. Not wanting to be disrespectful, I said I was fine, just hot. I looked down

at my steam soaked nightie, and my now dirty bare feet. The water and dirt turned to muck. My hair was dripping in sweat, or steam. I wasn’t sure which. I was still in shock and trying to recuperate when we were again called back to the dome for round two. Reluctantly, I entered and picked up my towel from the floor. Now I understood why the woman suggested I hang the towel over my head. Round two started immediately with the spraying of water on the rocks and more singing and prayers. It was really dark inside, but I could make out the image of each person. I watched as it grew hotter and hotter, but the others didn’t seem bothered by the steam. The medicine man opened a small pouch and threw some type of crumbled medicine on the rocks. The rocks sparked and there was an instant flowery scent. The scent burned a bit in my nostrils. It smelled beautiful, but I could barely handle the heat. I hung the towel over my head and began to panic. I tried leaning my head back and gasping for air, but the towel fell against my face and was so hot it burned. I started to claw at the ground, desperately grasping for any morsel of cool earth. The woman beside me said to remove the towel and push my face close to the ground at the edge of the lodge. I did as she suggested, and felt a slight cool breeze from outside. I remained there for the next couple of moments, until finally round two ended. This time, I crawled out of the lodge and immediately went to the buckets of cool water. I eagerly poured a pot of refreshing water over my head. As I went to sit on the log, I noticed everyone watching me. I pointed to the lodge and asked, between breaths, “Has anyone ever had a heart attack in there?” The men chuckled. “No, of course not,” the fire keeper replied. “The sweat is meant to heal the body, not destroy it.” I was reminded that I didn’t have to finish the ceremony or could leave a session at any point. Stubbornly, I said I could handle it. The women looked at each other and grinned. The break between sessions was a little longer this time, and the third round was only supposed to last about five minutes. I figured this was for my benefit, but I wasn’t complaining. I don’t think I could have handled much more.

During the fourth session, I again chose to lie on the ground, pushing tight against the frame. More medicine was thrown on the rocks, more drums played, and I just patiently waited for this last session to be over. Finally, the drumming stopped and everyone exited. The fresh air hit my face and with it I beamed. I had done it. I made it through the ceremony. As I proudly started towards the bucket of water the medicine man said, “We have to do one more session.” I stopped in my tracks. My smile disappeared. “What?” I asked. “You said there were only four rounds.” “Well,” he replied, “there is still water left in the pail, and we can’t waste any sacred ceremonial water.” Exhausted and close to tears, I followed everyone back to the lodge. I ed through the entrance somewhat angrily. I felt like I was being tricked, or like they were testing me. This time I sat up like the others, pushed my towel aside. Okay, I thought. Bring it on. Round five was silent. There was no drumming or singing. The only sound was of water being thrown again and again on the rocks, until the pail was empty. Still irritated, I wanted to ask if they thought every drop was out, but I bit my tongue. I was glad I didn’t say anything though, because later I was invited into the home of the medicine man, where his gracious wife served everyone soup and bannock. Hungrily, I ate. The women commented that I did really well. They said that not all sweats were that hot, and that it depended on the medicine man. They laughed, saying they thought I would have exited by round two. They explained that all the water had to be used. It was the Creator’s decision when the ceremony would end. Smiling, they also reminded me again that it was my decision to complete the ceremony or not. On Thursday morning, I woke and noticed my wrists were steam burned, from the elastic bands sewn into the cuffs of my nightie. I drove to work and my employees were excited, asking how the ceremony went. I told them it was hot and I would never do it again. Then, Friday morning came.

That morning, Fred left for work at 6:30 am. At 7:00 am, I was half asleep when I started to hear drumming in the distance. I lay in bed, wondering who would be playing a drum in our neighbourhood. Listening to the beat of the drum, I noticed that the sound got louder and louder. Then, rattles started shaking and I could hear footsteps all around my bed. I lay paralyzed, realizing the drums and rattles were in my little room. My bedroom began to vibrate as the sound of drums echoed up through the ceiling. I knew spirit was with me, and excitement started to build deep in my soul. The drumming and rattles seemed to play for quite a while. In reality, it probably only lasted a moment or two. Slowly, the vibrations lessened. The sound of the drums and rattles got quieter, until the music stopped. I jumped out bed to call Fred. “You would not believe what just happened to me.” After I shared the story, he said, “It’s probably because you went to that sweat lodge. Something always seems to happen to you during or after any type of sacred journey.” Still vibrating with excitement, I hung up the phone and crawled back into bed. Immediately, I had an odd vision. I saw a black and white stuffed teddy bear in front of me with a pink plastic face. “Hi,” it said. It was unsettling that this stuffed animal was talking to me, but I felt it was important. I kept my eyes closed tightly, knowing through experience that I wouldn’t be able to bring the vision back if I lost it. “What do you want?” I asked. “Don’t forget about your stocks and bonds,” it replied. “I don’t have any stocks and bonds.” “Yes, you do.” “Okay,” I said, humouring the thing. “Which bank?” The teddy said, “Amicus.”

“How much?” “$1200.” This was disappointing. What was I going to do with $1200.00? The teddy disappeared and I had a new vision. My body was immersed in water with only my eyes level with the surface. Off in the distance, I could see trees by the edge of the water. To my left there appeared a raft made of logs. I could see the feet of a man standing on the raft. I tried to look upwards but could only make out a man’s body in a long fur coat. I couldn’t see his face. I sensed movement to my right and turned to see a small torn piece of notepaper drifting through the air. I saw that it read, “Two acres for sale.” The vision shifted again, and I was wearing an eighteenth century dress, with my hair up in a loose bun. There was an older woman with me, wearing the same attire. Though we were dressed in eighteenth century clothing, we were standing on a street in a town in the sixties. It was strange. The details did not match up. “Don’t give up, dear,” the woman said. “I know it’s hard, and it was hard for me, too. It’s a difficult way to live, but it’s just around the corner for you and you are so close.” I was attempting to look as though I understood what she was trying to tell me, even thought I had no clue. Then the vision ended. I drove to work that day and told the employees all about my vision. They listened, intrigued. I tried to explain the strange looking teddy. “What kind of teddy was it?” one of my employees asked. “It looked like a cow with the black and white colouring and a pink face.” But I wasn’t sure. What significance did that have anyway? Three weeks later, Fred and I left to meet Scott. We arrived at his sanctuary and were amazed by the premises. The long driveway was lined with tall pine, spruce and fir trees. After a short time, we came to a peaceful opening by a creek. We parked the car and followed the signs down a winding path through the woods. We came to an area with round houses made of stone, glass and peeled trees from Scott’s property. Some of the buildings were above ground and some were dug out in the shape of Aboriginal pit houses. He had access to water from a creek that ran through his property, which he used for drinking, cooking

and gardening. I had never seen such a remarkable environment. After a quick tour of the garden and cooking areas, we entered his small stone and glass round house. Inside, Scott invited us to sit on a blanket on the dirt floor. We talked about the strange sensation I had upon meeting Adam in my shop. Again, I described my aching leg and the connection it had to his deceased wife. Scott nodded quietly, listening. He said his wife, Julie, was a remarkable woman and that she had moved into the spirit world to guard the East gate. Scott was an incredible storyteller, and I tried to follow his descriptions of Julie’s spiritual gifts. But I really didn’t understand much of what he was explaining. Fred asked about the purpose of the property and where he came up with the ideas of the unique living and gathering quarters. Scott pulled out some pictures of the construction all done by like-minded volunteers. Fred looked at each picture and ed them off to me. After flipping through a few photos I suddenly stopped at one. The face staring back at me was the older woman in my vision, the vision with the teddy. I hadn’t realized I was just sitting there staring blankly at the picture. Fred looked up and asked me what was wrong. Slowly, I looked at Scott. He glanced at the photo. “That’s my wife, Julie,” he said. Julie, I repeated. Fred looked at me and recognized the concern on my face. “Do you know her?” he asked. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know her personally, but she came to me three weeks ago, after the sweat.” Fred understood. “Tell Scott about the vision.” Shyly, I looked at Scott, who nodded. I told the story of the teddy, the lake of water and the woman. He listened until I finished. Then he said he wanted to show me something. We exited his home and started walking towards a large underground dome. “This is called the Star,” Scott explained. “It is used to hold spiritual gatherings.”

From the outside, I could see the roof had been covered with a big plastic tarp. I felt someone walking beside me, like Julie’s energy. I stopped and asked if I could go to the washroom. I was nervous, and had the feeling I get when something big is going to happen. I needed to collect myself. Scott pointed at an area where a plastic tarp was wrapped around three trees. “There is a latrine inside the tarp,” said Scott. As I walked away, Fred said he would wait with Scott. I went through the tarp and stood there. A five-gallon plastic bucket with a toilet lid sat on the ground. It was filled with wood shavings. I had really wanted to go into a room where I could take a breath and just think. This didn’t seem to be a good spot. Shakily, I walked back to the entrance of the star dome. Fred and Scott stood there smiling at me, like they knew something I didn’t. Scott told me to go into the star dome alone and take what I came for. I didn’t understand. I looked at Fred, who smiled and said, “Go find that teddy.” Apparently, Scott had shown Fred the dome when I was in the latrine. The teddy won’t be there, I thought. I didn’t understand. “Just go.” Scott nodded towards the entrance. I walked down a small path leading to the opening. As I entered, I noticed the beautiful structure. The large, dome shaped roof was constructed with peeled trees from his property. It looked about fifteen feet high. After the roof had been built, Scott and volunteers dug out the dirt below the ground and used rocks to make bench seating about five rows high. The dome held a couple hundred people. It was mind blowing. The dome was empty, except for the huge pile of teddies sitting on the top bench. Glancing around, I stepped up on the lowest rock benches and began to walk the circle towards the teddies. As I approached, I focused on each one. There must have been a hundred of them. There was a frog, a bear, a wolf, and so many other varieties of teddy. The one I saw was bizarre, and I didn’t have a clear image of it after the vision. Within moments, I felt like someone was watching me, pushing me to walk further. I took another couple of steps and froze. There, in the middle of the pile was a black and white teddy, with a pink plastic face. I couldn’t move. We stared at each other, the teddy and me. It was as if the teddy was alive. I

waited, scared it might talk again. Slowly, I picked her up. She was a small black and white pony with a pink plastic muzzle. Holding the teddy pony, I turned to walk out of the dome. I was so overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions that I was shaking and holding back tears. I walked outside and looked at Fred and Scott. How could this possibly be, and what did it mean? Scott explained that his wife used the teddies as therapy for people who needed healing. I thought back to the day when Adam walked into my shop. Just prior to that, I said to Spirit that I gave up, and I couldn’t do spiritual work anymore. It was too hard being judged, confused and bombarded with so much information. But when Adam showed up, I met Scott and connected with him and his deceased wife. She even approached me in a vision and said, “Don’t give up.” She had come to me from the spirit world to help and encourage me. Scott asked that I follow him back to his home. He had something else to give me. Again, Fred and I entered the small hut. Scott handed me a small paper packet. Automatically, I put the packet to my nose to smell it. I wasn’t sure why that was my first compulsion. The packet touched my lips and tasted salty. “What is it?” I asked. “Julie’s ashes,” Scott replied. Immediately, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Neither Scott nor Fred realized I had tasted her ashes. Scott told us that when Julie died, they held a ceremony, dancing and rejoicing about her return to the spirit world. Her family and friends knew she would continue her work from the spirit realm. Everyone who attended the ceremony received a packet of her ashes. “Well,” I said, “I wasn’t there so you can have these back.” I didn’t feel I had a right to keep them. “Oh no,” Scott replied. “You weren’t there in body, but you were there in spirit. The ashes are yours.” Not wanting to be disrespectful, I reluctantly accepted the gift. I knew there was something I was supposed to do with it, but I was clueless at the time.

Then a message rang clear in my mind: “Turn the pony over.” I flipped the pony upside down and saw a small zipper. I opened the zipper. Nothing was in there, so I closed it again. I heard another message: “Put my ashes in there.” I unzipped the pony again and placed the packet inside. When I returned to work carrying my teddy pony, my employees could not believe their eyes. They knew instantly what it was and demanded to know where I got it. So I told them the story. I still have the teddy pony. I feel Julie’s presence when I am feeling sad and unclear about my direction. Each time I feel her, I realize how blessed I am and how thankful I should be that she and others in the spirit realm watch over me and help me in my darkest, most doubting moments. Spirit guides can be someone you knew from this life or someone you never met. I never knew Julie, yet her love and work is not limited to time, dimensions or even people she knew in her Earth life. Julie’s love expands through the universe to everyone who calls for her assistance. She knew when she crossed over that she would continue her work to help others. We may not be able to see or sense spirit workers or angels. But the truth is that they are always with us, even if we cannot know them physically. We are never left alone.

Moving Forward

In the spring of 2006, only a year after my encounter with Mr. Tibetan Bells, and after moving my metaphysical business to a larger shop in Maple Ridge, BC, I decided I needed a change. I felt like there was something else calling me and I needed to move on. Spirit seemed to be urging me to move north, to slow down a bit. I felt like I was doing too much, too fast, and it wasn’t the right time to use my gifts to their fullest extent. People were becoming too curious about my shape shifting and other spiritual gifts, and Spirit didn’t want my safety to be jeopardized. I didn’t need to draw attention to myself; my destiny was still a few

years away. Fred, always trusting my instincts, knew I was restless and ed my decision to sell the business. We had no concrete plans, but felt we had to move north and weren’t quite sure where. We had a huge garage sale, sold all our belongings and permanently moved into our travel trailer. During the summer, fall and winter of 2006, we lived in the travel trailer at a camp resort in a valley in Mission. We lucked out and got the nicest trailer site on the edge of a pond, with a view of the mountains and cedar trees in the background. I took a job at Shoppers Drug Mart while figuring out what to do next. On hot days, I sat by the pond and meditated, enjoying nature and the chirping birds. In February of 2007, my girlfriend called to say she and her husband were moving to Quesnel, BC. She encouraged us to drive up and see the house they purchased. It felt like it had been raining in Mission non-stop for four months, and I was tired of the gloomy skies. Fred and I decided to take a road trip through the Fraser Canyon. The big, blue open skies would be a nice break from the dreary weather. We left on a Thursday morning and drove the seven-hour trip to Quesnel. Although it was winter, the sun was so bright we needed to wear sunglasses. The snow-capped mountains and the mist rising from the rivers was a welcoming sight indeed. The highway was clear and the trip flew by as we chatted about taking in the great scenery. As we entered Quesnel from the south, we drove over a quaint bridge with a frozen river below. We drove past the local museum and a large rink where families were tobogganing down a gently sloped hill beside the rink and into a park area. We continued straight and missed our turn to the north. We drove over a second bridge to the west side of town, crossing the Fraser River. Parallel to this bridge was a beautiful walking bridge that lit up at night, changing colours from indigo to blue and green. Bridges have always fascinated me, and this cute little town of approximately 23,000 people had four of them. I was in love. The temperature was -15 in Quesnel, but it seemed warmer than the -1 in Mission. With the sunlight and dryness, I wasn’t as chilled as I was in the damp coast air. We found our way back over the bridge and connected to Highway 97 going north, on our way to my friends’ place.

During our visit, Fred learned there was a mill in Quesnel that was supposed to be one of the leading mills in the world. Being a millwright, he phoned and set up a tour. Millwrights were in high demand in Quesnel, so they were eager show him around. After the tour, the foreman asked Fred if he was looking for work. He hesitantly submitted his resume. On Monday morning, we were on the way back to Mission when Fred’s cell rang. It was the mill foreman, who offered Fred a job. I could hear him asking questions about start times and pay rates. He was offered the gold shift, which was three days on and four days off. Fred glanced over at me as he chatted with foreman. “So, I would have to start in two weeks?” I nodded, excitedly. Yes! So Fred accepted the position and hung up the phone. This was where we were led, and where we were meant to be. We decided to leave the travel trailer in Mission, and rented a hotel room in Quesnel. For the first three months, we commuted to Quesnel for Fred’s three days of work, and made the seven-hour drive to Mission for his days off. Everyone thought we were crazy, but we loved that timeless canyon drive. While Fred was at work, I looked around for a house we could rent-to-own. We wanted to buy, but the banks required that we were employed for a year or two before they would approve a loan. We only had a couple thousand dollars left from the first payment on the sale of our business. We also had about $10,000 owing from the sale of the business, but wouldn’t receive that payment for another couple of months. We agreed that we wanted to live in the country. We loved nature, and I, especially, loved being surrounded by trees. But I couldn’t find any suitable homes that met our needs. By April, we decided to move the travel trailer to Quesnel and find a piece of property to call our own. I had met a real estate agent who had five-acre parcels for sale. We got a list and a map of about ten available properties on the north side of town. All the properties were priced at $25,000.00 each, with the exception of two parcels that were $13,000.00 each. Ignoring the cheaper properties, Fred and I looked at each one.

It had been a heavy snow year and there was still a lot of snow on the ground. We trudged through each property on the list. We often found ourselves sitting on the side of the road, listing the pros and cons of each parcel. But something kept urging me farther down the road. I looked again at the map of properties for sale. The only ones we hadn’t looked at were the two for $13,000.00. They each had a small forestry road easement, so we disregarded them. But my nagging feeling persisted. Finally, I looked at Fred and said, “We need to go further down the road.” Fred turned the car around and we drove to the end of the cul-de-sac. We got out of the car and stood standing in front of the two properties. Both were heavily treed, with a mixture of birch, fir, spruce, pine, poplar and big, beautiful cottonwoods. We both sensed that there was something deeper in the woods. We smiled at each other knowingly, and started ploughing through the knee-deep snow. The woods were dark. Within five minutes of walking, we saw light up ahead. There was an opening. Our excitement building, we plunged forward until finally we came to the edge of a small embankment. The view before us was stunning. The sun shone brightly on the rolling hills of farmer’s fields, which were surrounded by the trees. None of the other lots had a view; they were flat, treed properties. These two parcels were different. For the next hour, we walked both properties. Both had full use of all the land, which was slightly sloped with flat indentations. There was a small ridge, and below it, the land flattened out again with useable land. It was a beautiful million-dollar view. In our hearts we knew we had found our paradise. Fred looked at me and asked, “Which one do we buy?” I smiled and said, “Both.” We signed the offer of $25,000.00 for the two parcels at five acres each. We had to put a 5% deposit down, which was $1200.00. Then we moved the recreational trailer to the property and started clearing the land. We had solar s hooked up, pumped our own water from a hand dug well, and had a temporary septic system in place. This simple lifestyle was one of the most memorable times of my life. When we moved to Quesnel, I decided that I would leave my spiritual work in the lower mainland. I wanted a new start in a ‘normal’ career again. I started

waitressing at a restaurant, which led me to yet another career selling floors. While selling floors, I met a social worker who convinced me to apply for a social work position with the government. I really wanted to stay away from high stress government jobs, but our property was going to cost quite a bit of money. We had to put in a water system and septic field, and then build a house. With these costs in mind, I started working as a social worker assistant in child protection. I lasted six months in child protection. I was limited to just doing report writing. My desire for helping people was not being fulfilled. But it was the steppingstone that got me back into the field. I applied for a worker position at a non-profit Aboriginal family agency. The rate of pay was half of what I made working for the government, but the rewards I reaped from doing work I was ionate about, and creating healthy relationships with people, was more abundant than any amount of money. Two great things happened as a result of taking the worker position. Firstly, within a year and half, the Executive Director position opened at the agency. The Board of Directors wanted the successful applicant to have a Master’s degree in social work with five years of experience. I really wanted this position, and had an ambitious vision for the future of the organization. I felt deeply connected to the people I worked with and believed in their organizations mission statement. However, I was two classes short of a Bachelor’s degree. I had about twenty years of experience, so I knew I was qualified for the position. But the educational requirement posed as a problem. Even so, I was compelled to apply. Then the strangest thing happened. After three months of the posting being up, I was the only applicant that had come close to meeting the expected qualifications. However, my supervisor told me that the Board wanted to the position again. Regardless, they would still hold my application for a possible interview. I thought it was weird that no one qualified had applied, as it was a fantastic position. Three more months ed, and I learned that the Board was interviewing three people. I, surprisingly, was one of them. I felt honoured to get an interview, but didn’t think I would get the position, as the other two applicants were Aboriginal, had experience and held Master degrees.

I was the last to be interviewed. The night before my interview, I was about to drift off to sleep when I had a vision of an Aboriginal man standing by my bed. He said, “Don’t worry. We are making this happen for you.” I opened my eyes and jumped out of bed. Fred was in the living room watching TV. I told him what I had seen. “Well, maybe you’re getting some help.” “But that is not possible,” I argued. “They have two really good candidates. I can’t possibly compete.” Fred looked at me and said calmly, “Sweetie, whenever you see things, they happen. You never know. Let’s wait and see.” The next day, I went to work. At 1:00 pm, I was called for my interview. There were a lot of questions. I felt like I answered pretty well, but I didn’t get my hopes up. The interview told me they would let me know their decision in a couple of days. The next morning as I was waking, I heard a male voice say, “You got the position. No one else applied.” I sat up in bed. I knew I had just heard a spirit, but what it said couldn’t have been true because I knew there were other candidates. I walked into the kitchen and told Fred what I had just heard. He looked at me and said, “Well, congratulations.” I laughed. “Silly, the spirits must be mixed up.” I had a coffee, got dressed and drove the twenty minutes to work. I was heading towards my office when my supervisor approached me and asked if he could speak with me. As my supervisor sat down across from me, I said, “Before you say anything, can I tell you a story?” He sat back in the chair and looked at me curiously. “Of course. Go ahead.” I told him the story may seem strange, but I felt compelled to tell him. I then told him about seeing and hearing the spirit the night before the interview, and what I

had heard that morning. He looked at me and smiled. “Well,” he said, “that’s what happened. The position is yours.” “What?!” I cried. He explained that the hiring process had been unusual right from the start. Firstly, six months of advertising with very few applicants was not normal for an Executive Director position. Secondly, when the Board of Directors finally set the interview date, they felt sure they had strong applicants. But on the day of their interviews, the two other candidates withdrew their applications. One candidate had decided to move to a different province, the other received a job offer over the phone on the way to the interview at our agency. You would think I would have been a little disappointed that I only got the position because I was the only one interviewed. But I was happy. I knew I had just been given another miracle. I believed that I was awarded the position for a reason. I was being led to my spiritual mission, the contract I had made before I was born. Working for an Aboriginal organization was the best thing that could have happened to me. I was working with communities that understood spirituality and had similar beliefs. I could finally let my guard down a bit and show more of myself. I felt more accepted than I had in any other conventional career. It dawned on me that all of my prior visions had manifested. There was the woman in the store in Mission, who told me I would move. Mr. Tibetan Bells, who told me he didn’t know if he should stay or move. Mr. Tibetan Bells, who also said that I prayed to myself for help. His message had been that I relocate to Quesnel. There was also the vision I had of Julie and the teddy bear, where I was eye level with water, seeing two acres for sale. The stocks and bonds of $1,200.00 from that vision also finally made sense, as $1,200.00 was the down payment for our property. I realized I was on the right path, doing exactly what was planned for me to do. I didn’t have all the pieces yet, but they were being filled, one spiritually planned step at a time.

Chapter 15 Final onitions

Two major events that led me to the writing of this book happened on March 9, 2015. It was my forty-ninth birthday. As part of my role as Executive Director, I hold a staff meeting every Monday at 1:15 pm. On this particular Monday, fifteen staff sat around the boardroom table when I entered and sat in my usual chair at one end of the table. I was opening up my employee handbook to pull out the agenda when I noticed my index and my middle finger tips had a neon green colour on them. I started rubbing my thumb on my two fingertips, trying to rub the stain off. It looked like ink from a pen. As I was rubbing my thumb and fingers together, I noticed what seemed like green ink on my ring and my pinkie finger. I frantically started rubbing all my fingertips. The staff member sitting to my right noticed my distress, and she glanced over and saw my hand. She said, “Oh, it looks like you got some ink on your fingers. You must have set your hand on some wet ink.” I wasn’t paying attention to her as I watched the ink drip down my fingertips on my right hand. “What is this?” I was embarrassed. I was used to having my hands change shape, even darkening in colour, but nothing like this had ever happened, and never in front of my staff. By this time, everyone was looking across the table at my hands. I looked at my left hand and watched as the neon green colour began to stain each finger, one by one. It seemed like everyone in the room froze as they watched in shock. A staff member, Kara, at the far end of the table jumped up and ran over to me, putting her arm over my shoulder. She walked me to the bathroom, which was directly across from the boardroom, as all the staff sat and watched in silence. Kara willing to help me said, “Come on, let’s wash it off.” She turned the tap on and I started rubbing my hands under the warm water. At first, nothing happened. I started to think maybe it was poison. But as I washed my hands, another clear message came through, “It’s not poison, its ink. Lorene, it’s time to write.”

I kept rubbing my hands under the water and the ink slowly disappeared. I walked back to the table and apologized for my panicky behaviour. One of the staff replied, “That’s okay. It was totally authentic.” I held back tears as I glanced away from her. I knew she knew that it was a spiritual manifestation. My staff had grown accustomed to it, but I still felt a need to explain. I opened up to them, and told them that sometimes my hands would shape shift and I would hide them by tucking them into my long sleeves. I said it usually happened before a big earthquake or storm. But I had never before seen ink manifest in my hands so I hadn’t figured out right away what was happening to me. They were all very ive. Shakily, I got on with the meeting. Every now and then, I looked at my fingertips, telling myself not to let that happen again. I am not sure how productive any of us were that day. The next evening while having coffee with a close friend the same neon green looking ink began to flow under the skin of my fingers. My friend grabbed my hands and started looking at them, bewildered. She rubbed my fingers for a couple minutes as the color eventually disappeared. “What was that,” she asked? I explained what had happened the day prior in the staff meeting. For the next hour, we talked about my recent manifestations of spiritual energy. We also discussed that we should start meditating together. As we were about to part ways, my friend started reaching for her purse to leave, when I heard her say, “Weird. It looks like there is ink on my fingers.” Then we both froze. We looked down at her fingers at the neon green ink. She tried to rub it off but couldn’t. She looked at me and asked what was happening. I said, trying to make sense of it myself, “You were touching my hands, I must have transferred the energy to you.” I explained how I could physically manifest my experiences so others could witness them, whether through visions or hearing, but I had never transferred a physical change. I tried to rub the ink from her fingers but it was not dissolving. “What should I do,” she asked, wonder showing on her face. “Write. Write anything. Just go home and write your thoughts and the ink will go away.” The next day, she told me she wrote and the process helped her with some questions she’d been struggling to answer.

From March to November 2015, I had visions of writing and I knew I had to start.

Chapter 16 A Spiritual Meeting with The Council of Light

I was meditating one evening when I felt a shift. Suddenly, I found myself in front of a council of men. The council seemed hesitant, talking and whispering amongst each other. I knew they were talking about some type of Earth mission. Desperately, I announced that I could accomplish this mission. The white haired elder said, “You will not have memory and you will encounter much fear.” I sat and thought for a moment, and then replied, “If you are here to help me, give me a bit of insight now and then, I can overcome this fear.” The man nodded, and with that last image in my mind, a bright light flashed in front of me. I tried to open my eyes and sit up on the meditation table, but this light hit me in the centre of my forehead. I felt the impact and thought surely I would be bruised. Three times, I tried to sit up and was hit with bright white light and knocked back on the table. Finally, the light relented. Nervously and slowly, I opened my eyes. I peeked around the room, expecting to see someone but no one was there. I rubbed my eyes, opening and closing them slowly, getting used to the darkness in the room. Finally, I sat up on the meditation table and swung my legs over the side. Placing my feet on the floor, I quietly walked to the bathroom and felt for the light switch. Once the light was on, I walked to the mirror, my eyes still adjusting to the light. I expected to see indents in my forehead, but it looked fine. I rubbed my third eye, but it wasn’t sore. Cautiously, I returned to the meditation room and sat quietly on the table, recalling the details of the vision. My back was to a mountain and I was sitting on a small grassy area. A group of elderly men draped in elegant white cloth were sitting a few feet from me. One of the men was telepathically speaking to me. I had volunteered for some type of Earth mission. I tried to make sense of the blows from the light, and decided that we must be hit with light when we are reborn on the Earth plane, in order to erase our memories. The man corrected me. “No! You were hit with light in order to open your

memories, not to erase them.” As I pieced together the unusual visions and physical shifting that was happening to me, I began to understand that the Earth and the people residing on it were in desperate need of healing. Things were happening sooner than I anticipated, and somehow maps were going to be of great importance. The caustic weather was only the beginning of the Earth’s shift. This council had approved a team of universal to help Earth. It was preparing individuals for the consciousness shift with the least intrusive measures. I knew part of my mission was to help people understand and believe that there would be changes coming and that they needed to be prepared. They needed to understand that the Earth was being damaged by human nature to the point of total destruction. The council did not want humans to surrender their world. They wanted humans to accept help from other more advanced realms, which consisted of higher frequencies and energies. They had employed missionaries from other highly evolved realms to help avoid a course of human self-destruction. The solution was to create and shift humankind to a New Earth where there would be peace, harmony, and multidimensional levels of existence. These missionaries would perform miracles and provide predictions to awaken all souls to their true heritage as multidimensional beings.

Chapter 17 The Beginning

In December, 2015, I woke at 4:00 am. I thought I saw an old white-haired man standing by my bed. I glanced around the room, but no one was there. Maybe I was dreaming. I closed my eyes to sleep and then a of information came at me. A quick, clear message said, “You are the scribe. You carry me.” Half asleep and confused, I asked, “Are you Jesus?” “No.” This time, it was a man’s voice. “I am older than Jesus.” “Who are you?” “I am Enos,” the voice replied. “I have given you clues for many centuries now and soon you will wake with full knowledge of your purpose.” “What is my purpose?” I asked. “You hold the key,” he replied. “The key?” “Yes, the key. YEXOD 2222-888-999. The key is you. 2220 is me. You are the extra two, the human that carries me. The eights are Christ’s energy, or the shift in consciousness. The nines are the New Earth.” “How will the New Earth transpire?” I asked. “The Earth is already preparing. The veil is getting thinner to accept the New Earth. A parallel sister world is forming. Just like the human body has an etheric body, so, too, does the Earth. The Earth’s etheric body is already blending with our etheric body, gently pushing through the oceans, the skies and the land. Just as we die and are reborn, so does the Earth.”

I didn’t really understand all that he was saying, but I did believe in the reality of our creation and that we would soon be fully connected to our soul’s purpose. Once we were transformed, there would be no fear, pain or suffering. In January, after I saw the angel with the trumpet, Enos came to me again. All the seals would soon be opened and all the trumpets would be blown. He explained that the human body carries the book on the seals. He explained that much was written about sacred knowledge of all times, and that destructive power created from religion and war tried to destroy sacred tablets and books, but the attempt failed. It was impossible. Enos explained that sacred writings are never lost. Original scripture and language is carried century after century. The knowledge is carried with the Ascended Masters who choose to incarnate as humans until the time comes for the seals to be opened and revealed once again. The seals are encoded in our DNA. When activated, the seals will connect to higher dimensional realms. The trumpets open the vibration levels in the human body needed to ascend into the New Earth. Enos explained that our bodies connect to the Earth’s energy grid, which was why I felt earthquakes, volcanoes and storms. As each earthquake happens, the Earth shifts, and our human body adjusts. Our seals slowly open and we adjust to the New Earth’s energies at a higher frequency. When all our seals open, we recognize that we are also multi-dimensional beings of light. Enos urged me to meditate on YEXOD more thoroughly. I asked when I would the book, the one I had seen in the room with the three men. “Will it be during this life or another?” “This life,” he replied. “But just keep working on the book you are writing now. It’s your personal story and you will soon understand your purpose.” I did a internet search on the word YESOD, and found that it was associated with the Jewish Kabbalah, the foundation used by God to make the world. It is a transmitter between sephirot above and reality below. The masculine energies that are the forces above are transmitted to the feminine energies below. I was stunned to read such a simple interpretation of YESOD. I had been so focused on finding YEXOD that I totally overlooked the Kabbalah and the spelling of YESOD. Then, I ed the Judaist rabbi that came into my store to

explain the meaning of the 2222s. He had tried to tell me I was the female energy below. Clearly, the Judaist rabbi was not from this world. Since I began writing this story, I have been able to put together all the pieces of the puzzle. My personal story has turned into an understanding of my purpose and an explanation of the mystery of life. I always felt connected to the Book of Revelation, but I always understood it to be the end. In actuality, Revelation was the beginning. All the different religious beliefs I have participated in have made me stronger and given me a greater understanding of the various faiths. At the same time, they each made me question my gift of channelling and visions. Just when the fear takes over, causing me to think I have failed my mission, Enos steps forward to remind me, “It’s not your time to everything. Not just yet.” Ascended Masters are reviewing Earth’s foundation, to prepare for whatever it is we must do to save the human race and be guided to a New Earth. When all of human kind fully awaken we will walk together within the dimensions and connect with one another, some seeming very different, some similar, yet we must create peace. The word is spreading, consciousness is shifting and our spiritual fears are declining. New doors to spirit realms are opening, memories are being accessed, and we must trust and have faith in ourselves. This is only the beginning of a New Divine Earth.

Chapter 18 The End of My Self-Doubt

I closed my eyes to meditate and saw myself in a room standing by a small girl. I looked down at the child, who felt and looked familiar to me. Before I had the chance to distinguish how I knew her, I saw someone standing a few feet behind her. I recognized the old woman from my previous vision on the beach, the one who showed me millions of planets in the universe. Her ancient face cracked into a smile and I got a creepy chill. Still, I felt compelled to walk towards her. She held out her arms and I embraced her. I felt her long, boney fingers rubbing my back, and I felt comforted. Then, a warm sensation ed through me and I turned my head to the right. Down a long tunnel, I saw Wind quietly watching me. I pulled away from the old woman and began to walk towards Wind, leaving the child and the woman behind me. “Wind, I haven’t seen you in so long. I missed you so much.” I took a couple more steps towards her and she held out her hands, beckoning me to walk forward. “Wind,” she said. “Come here.” I stopped, confused. “No, you are Wind.” She didn’t answer, just waited patiently. I looked over my shoulder at the old woman, who nodded to me and then at the child. I looked at the child and back to the old woman, confused. “What is going on here?” I asked. The old woman replied, “You are Wind. We are all the same.” I turned back to Wind. “No, this can’t be true. You are my spirit guide and best friend. I need you. I

need you to be Wind.” Wind watched patiently as I tried to comprehend what she was teaching me. She had been me all along. She was my higher self. But I couldn’t accept this lesson. I didn’t want Wind to ever go away. She read my thoughts and replied, “I am always with you and I will never leave you. I am always in your heart. Love yourself and you will find me.” Again, I whispered, “Who are you?” “Wind,” she replied. I was so conflicted. She had always been a separate entity, a higher being. I couldn’t make sense of this. “Who is ‘Wind’?” She replied, “You are. I am you. We are one.” Finally, I asked, “Who am I?” The most heavenly being you will ever meet.

About the Author

Lorene Pulles is a healer, physical medium, spiritual teacher, author, prophet, and certified clinical hypnotherapist. With her diverse background in metaphysics, meditation, Reiki, spiritual development, and counseling, Lorene writes about spiritual self-discovery and the global benefits to personal healing. Wind: A Multi-Dimensional Experience is Lorene’s first book. She is currently working on a sequel. With her authentic and natural gift of empowering people to manifest their dreams and achieve success, Lorene has touched many lives. She combines positive and traditional approaches to healing. Lorene is a devoted advocate of human rights, especially involving children and youth. She has twenty-five years of experience in the human services field, along with careers in the criminal justice system. Presently, Lorene is the executive director of a community family centre. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in social work from the University of Regina. Lorene and her husband, Fred Pulles, have received extensive facilitation training and have been teaching and counseling as a team for the past twelve years. They reside in Quesnel, British Columbia.