I am in no-time-space with my client and I am trying hard not to confront an already angry and abusive earthbound spirit that has attached itself to her. Cursing me in Afrikaans he reaches through my protective energy shield and starts to throttle me. This should not be possible, but it seems to be happening and it really hurts.
I can feel his hands clamped around my throat. This is turning into the most visceral other-worldly experience I have ever had. Choking, I telepath.
I am not a threat to you. What are you so angry about?
I cop another outpouring of abuse. I need to stay cool, but I am beginning to feel light headed. I feel tapping on my shoulder, I look to my left but there is no-one next to me. Now I am really confused, the other earthbound spirits are still attached to my client. What is happening to me?
Then I get it, my assistant is trying to bring me back into the physical; so I quickly return to full consciousness. When I open my eyes I realise that my client, a tiny woman, has lifted up my muscular body and has me pinned against the wall. Her face is right next to mine, her eyes are wide open but her eyeballs are rolled back – so I am staring straight into the whites of her eyes as she rants on at me in a deep male voice.
Her mouth is flecked with foam and my assistant who is trying to prize her fingers off my throat has gone a lovely shade of white, a colour that matches perfectly her blouse and bleached and braided dreadlocks.
If her grip is not released very soon I will pass out. As my vision becomes grey around the edges, I think.
How did I get myself into this mess?…
I live in the old part of the city. I like its character and the people there. As I cycle across town to my crystal shop I become an observer. I sense the vacant ones, people wearing grey suits with matching grey auras. I stop at traffic lights, they hurry past and I look into their eyes. They are like windows into abandoned warehouses, empty, dark and slowly crumbling inside. They look utterly lost and hopeless. It seems to me that there is no-one home. Or worse, there is someone else there.
My crystal shop and session room sit in the borderline part of the city because the rent is reasonable. It’s the kind of place that starts out being inhabited by artists, musicians and students and ends up being taken over by architects, real estate agents and lawyers who then complain about the character of the place that they bought into. This part of town is the nexus for transformation; so for now, for me, it is a good place to be.
There is community here, people look out for each other and there is an easygoing atmosphere that comes from having not much money, not too many worries and plenty of time.
So it was that I started receiving calls from other alternative shops in the area. They all talked about the same person – a slightly built woman who needed my help. I knew it was only a matter of time until she showed up.
Sometimes in my business you need assistance. I have two apprentices, both mature and very groovy women. They are similar yet very different. Both have bleached blonde, braided dreads and dress like they are about to rock on to an all-night rave after work. Secretly I call them Topsy and Mopsy.
Brianna, is your earth mother type. Large and well built, she exudes nurturing feminine power. She is lesbian and proud of it and has trained in martial arts, as well as esoteric disciplines. Bryony is smaller and has a lighter build. She could be Brianna’s sister from another life. Her birdlike features give a hint of the sharp mind hiding under her dreads. Like Brianna she has studied extensively with other teachers. She is an excellent tarot reader and a natural trance channel.
Both women look many years younger than their age because they are so happy. They are enjoying their lives – so looking after their bodies comes naturally. These powerful women are my guardians, my front door filter. They run my crystal shop and keep the tyre-kickers away from my session room. No time wasters make it into my sacred space for a journey – just the genuine spiritual seekers and those in need of help.
Today I am thankful that Brianna is my assistant. Sometimes things can get physical with this kind of case, and I prefer to have another woman in the room if my client is female.
I can feel my client coming towards the shop before she arrives. The energy around her is big and very prickly, although the woman who walks through the door appears to be the opposite. This tiny, thin woman tells me her story.
She has had a violent temper for as long as she can remember and lately it is getting worse. It seems the happier she becomes in her relationship, the bigger this rage inside her gets, disrupting her life on a daily basis. She had been placed on an Apprehended Violence Order (AVO) for biting off a chunk of her husband’s ear during a bout of uncontrollable rage. It is clear to me that I am probably dealing with a case of possession. As she is coherent and calm I decide to move straight into our session. Her name is Mia.
My aim is to find out when she gave permission for the spirit to attach itself to her and work from there. Laying in a powerful mandala of crystals we both travel into the space between worlds. I telepath Mia the following affirmation.
Body I command you – show me the moment this started.
Immediately we are standing in a country area by the side of a dusty dry road surrounded by lush, green vegetation. We notice a little girl in front of us playing on her bicycle. She seems happy and carefree. She is not concentrating, daydreaming as she navigates rocks and pebbles on the roadside. Mia confirms it is herself as a child and I suggest that she step into the child’s body.
The child is near a corner. I feel the rumble of an approaching truck, but she does not notice it at all. The truck driver is speeding and as he swings out on the corner he almost loses control as his load shifts. His heavy vehicle is old and unroadworthy. I catch a glimpse of the panicked driver, dropping greasy food on his lap as he clutches his steering wheel with both hands. There is no way he will even notice the child.
He collects her with his front fender and knocks her under the nearside front wheel. Fortunately it is only her legs that go under and, as he is turning, only one wheel runs over her. The bike is destroyed and the frail little girl is left wailing at the side of the road as the truck driver continues on his journey in a cloud of dust and small stones, totally unaware of what has just happened.
How are you feeling? I telepath the girl
I am in agony. Somebody stop this pain. Please someone. ANYONE!
We are at the point of attachment. The point when she gave permission for ANY being who wants to step in and help to do so.
She did not say or think:
…will the beings who love me unconditionally please help me?
I do not know many people who would have the presence of mind to do that, let alone a little girl with two broken legs, lying on the side of a deserted road in the bush.
Unknowingly she has issued an open-ended invitation and in effect a contract for any beings, particularly confused dead people (earthbound spirits) to come to her aid, and they do. But there is always a catch, they are looking for a place to stay, permanently.
I witness several energies come flying through the ethers and attach themselves to her, offering succor. They cringe to one side clinging on to her solar plexus for dear life as a large dark form approaches and attaches itself firmly to the back of her neck. I don’t know how, but it eases her pain, maybe it takes on some itself. Her pain lessens and her wailing changes to deep sobs as she waits for someone to find her.
I take her into no-time-space and suggest she transmits the following thought-form:
I challenge any being that is under the illusion that it has power over me. Show yourself to me now, or forever hold your peace.
Of the dark forms surrounding Mia the largest comes forward. I have an overriding sensation of intense and explosive anger.
I am not yet able to make out its form but rather than arguing with Mia it is headed straight for me. As it materialises in front of me I perceive that it is male, human, muscular and dark-skinned.
He talks to me in a language I do not understand
Neuk af wit seun! It sounds like Afrikaans.
Talk to me in English mate. I don’t understand you.
What the fuck do you want white boy? Why don’t you fuck off back to where you came from and mind your own bloody business? Even his thought forms have a strong accent.
He towers over me and he is a big bloke. He is strong and has a lot of willpower. Suddenly he reaches through my protective auric field and starts to throttle me. I feel the tapping on my shoulder and remember that I asked my assistant to tap me if she feels I should return to my body for any reason.
I return to full consciousness as quickly as I can and realise that things are going pear-shaped fast – this session turning into an all-in wrestling match – and I am about to pass out. I must stay calm and act…
Think, breathe, think.
This petite woman with her white bulging eyes now has the strength of an ox. I manage to get my fingers under hers and create some breathing space as my assistant grapples with her. We must not hurt her. I am now speaking out loud talking directly to the African presently in possession of her body.
“Tell me what happened to you. I want to know.”
“What do you care? You interfering bastard.” A deep and thickly accented voice booms out of Mia’s tiny chest.
“Maybe I can help.”
“Bullshit. You fuckers left me for dead, in this dark shitty place. The mine caves in and you just fuck off! You bastards just left me. And I died. FUCKERS!” he shouts.
I am already preparing excuses about a play rehearsal for my neighbours.
It sounds very weak but I say, “I am sorry to hear that”.
“Fuck off!” His grip tightens again but now fully conscious, I respond quickly.
“What year is it?”
“In the mine. What year is it.”
“1951 – who gives a shit?”
I do, and I am doing some rapid mental calculation. If he was mature man in 1951 there is a good chance his wife is also now dead, if he had one. I sense a way of getting through to him, helping him. He is definitely not going to go for any flaky new age fluff, that’s for sure.
“Do you miss your wife?”
He is poised on a knife edge between intense rage and deep grief. Fortunately for me, as my assistant is beginning to flag, he leans towards the latter. His pause tells me he loved this woman.
In this space between anger and grief I seize the moment.
“Across time and space, I call on this man’s wife, I call on this man’s wife, I call on this man’s wife, please join us now.”
I do not need a translator to understand what is happening as he releases his grip and breaks down, sobbing.
“OK you can go with her. You can go home and find peace. Go home to light now. Go in peace.”
One word of Afrikaans leaves Mia’s lips as he leaves her body and it completely relaxes: “Dankie…”
I help the other attached spirits find peace and after cleansing and protection exercises Mia returns to her body and reclaims it. She tells me she grew up in South Africa; so it all makes sense. This dead African miner had become a confused and distressed earthbound spirit. Refusing the opportunity to go home to light when his ancestors came for him he was stuck and looking for a safe and pleasant place to hang out when she called for help.
He had been with her since her childhood accident, affecting her moods and thoughts. He had become possessive, resenting her love for her husband. Now that he has left, everything will change for my client.
We say goodbye and my shaken assistant ushers her out. I give thanks to my non-physical team, and think how silly I will look wearing a neckerchief in summer. For a few days my throat will be very red. I hope it won’t bruise.
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