Miss Patty - Retrieval IV

This was somewhat unexpected, given my lifelong familiarity with this life; despite certain experiences - uncontrollable grief, anger and bitterness when at Monticello - it never occurred to me that she might be stuck. Erm, was/is this rescue the thing I was/am supposed to do about this (and not write a book)? Well, if so, here it is. May the release of energy from this heal all concerned and free up new ways of being.

I was very surprised to see her at Elk Hill on the James (a property owned first by her father, where she lived with her first husband, the grounds of which Cornwallis destroyed in his march through) and not at Monticello, which at first blush would be 'more logical'. However, like victims of amnesia, it appears that she went back to a place and time before a great deal of the crashing horror of the life occurred. Yes those are subjective words. No apologies.

* The photo above is of Plynlimmon, nearby in Goochland, because the present house at Elk Hill Farm is  Gothic revival, built in the 1830s. The original house was a frame house (like ten-thousand other Virginia gentry houses, not really much to write home about.)

I found her sitting on a chair before the window, looking out at Elk Island in the river. The date was June, 1776. Yes that year. She had just had another miscarriage, was ill (diabetes type I) and depressed. She had supposed to be at The Forest in Charles City already with her sister and brother-in-law/cousin, and everyone was coming to look for her, having received frantic letters from Mr. Jefferson in Philadelphia.

So, I thought, Oh Lud, how shall I manage this? Realising that it would be very difficult to tear her away, she being very stubborn (her worst fault). So I thought, well, why not use the two people who came to me as a preschooler as young girls, her sisters Elizabeth and Anne? My dear Amy had actors as two of her sisters (Nancy [Anne] and Tibb [Tabitha]), actually so it should be fairly easy.

Amy and I arrived in the hall outside of the bedchamber where she sat; the door was open, so, it was a matter of scratching on the door (a family habit) and walking in.
K/E: Sister, at last!
She turned, somewhat listlessly, while we took off out bonnets, but her eyes lit and then grew teary.
P: Oh my dear sisters!
There were embraces and cheek-kisses.
A: Sister we have been so worried when we had no word of you! So we decided to come and fetch you ourselves, thinking perhaps that you needed assistance.
Oh Amy, well done!
E: Francis has been beside himself, receiving letters by every post from our friend. [Mr. Jefferson]. Had you none here at all?
I knew that she had not of course. She shook her head and so I held out a thick packet of letters, tied up in pale blue ribbon.
E: These are all this month gone.
She looked at them rather fearfully, paling, and shaking a little, her face then a changing canvas of emotions - happiness, sorrow, wistfulness.
P: Oh my dear Betsey! Thank you! You are an angel!
She took up the letters with gladness - and put them directly into her pocket in her skirts.
P: I shall read them anon.
She promised.
A: You shall, as WE are going to kit you out and bring you right along! No argument now!
Have you anything ready fit to wear?
She looked askance at the rather shabby old gown, a work gown, threadbare and mended - almost shredded, and at the undressed hair flowing loose. It was comical to see Amy as Nance was then, the littlest of the sisters, both in age and size, fussing about like a little brown hen. Patty looked toward the wardrobe press in a kind of confusion.
P: I ... think so...

Well, she had been there for such a long time in a daze, that surely fashion was the last thing on her mind. (Even though she had been in life quite fashionable and not a little vain.)
At this moment,  her servant Bett appeared in the doorway, cheerful, managerial, bustling. I hid a smile. Madame in disguise.
B: Now lamby, you come along and we's all will set you to rights. Look here and see what Mary come up with in the guest room -
Mary was Bett's eldest daughter. In comes Mary with a chemise a la reine, the most fashionable of French frocks at the time, designed to appeal to that forgotten vanity.

 All the bustle of changing and arranging has at least taken her attention off the window which had exerted such an hypnotic fascination for so long. When all is done, we take her downstairs to the waiting open carriage and all sit together.

Driving along the river road smoothly (not bumps and ruts and other inconveniences of 18th Century travel),  I ask her what she was waiting for at the window. The pleasant expression of enjoyment at the dappled light vanishes and she looks catatonic again.
P: I was waiting for Mr. Skelton.
Eek. Her first husband. This is worse than I thought. She has retreated entirely to before her marriage. I glance at Amy, who says firmly,
A: No, Batt and Tibb and Jackie and Pa are all gone, Patt. So is Betsey's Dick, and Janey.
She nods at me. husbands, siblings, children, nephews.
Patty shakes her head as if waking up.
P: Why, yes of course, how foolish of me!
Her hands are tight on the reticule strings in her lap. I think she might get lost again, but she turns to me earnestly.
P: Have you heard from Maria since your loss? [a mutual friend]
I assure her that I have, and begin talking about many other friends. Keep her in her present. That's progress.

We are still traveling along the pleasant river road, and I suggest that she might want to look at her letters, that we won't mind, and a little distractedly, as if she has forgotten them, she says 'Oh Yes' and removes them from her pocket. There are many tears and kisses of the words of the one on top. I hide my smile. The girl who used to read novels is still alive in her.  She bursts out:
P: Oh! he has been asked to go to FRANCE! to assist Dr. Franklin as Minister.
Her eyes are shining.
P: France, France, France!
I think of her eldest daughter, who was a coltish tomboy as a little girl but who cherished her own time in France. It had been a girlish dream, for Patty, amongst her father's French essays and sermons and plays, borne up by the interest her first husband had in that country also. She is as excited as a girl.
P: He says I am to await with you and we will leave directly he returns -[reading]- this Tuesday week... That's tomorrow! Oh Lud!
She is blushing like a girl.
E: That is why we came. Francis had the same intelligence of him.
Making it all up of course, but, look at her.
P: Oh, Betsey! You are such a clever thing!
She hugs me impulsively.

She doesn't seem to notice that no night or day is passing, or that we do not stop at taverns or friends' houses on the way. That's as well. We are suddenly moving up the hill towards her childhood's home, a modest house amid pine, tulip, and walnut trees. She is straining to look, as there in the half-circular driveway, is a familiar horse. She digs her fingers into my arm.
P: Oh he's here! He's here!
And with that He indeed appears from the house and Elizabeth's husband with him. The carriage has barely stopped and she has scrambled out and flung herself on him. Uncharacteristic in public, but not among family.
P: I received your letter!
She is exclaiming.
P: Oh France! France!
He is smiling his sardonic smile.
T: I thought you might be glad to see me too.
He teases.

She is happy and over the moon.

Inside the house is much discussion of logistics. A ship has been commissioned for them. Various friends are helping to secure supplies. And, a letter from Lafayette's wife Adrienne, in French, welcoming her to her country and hoping to embark upon a deep and lasting friendship.

Everything now will change, as they indeed embark on this alternative history in the holoworlds There. The changes for myself as a 'downline' remain to be seen [if any]. But watching her dance about her childhood home on light feet in those few 'days', reunited with her husband and daughters, I feel less conflicted about the life and its 3D outcome.

The pull of that life from my earliest childhood was because she needed rescuing. It cast a long shadow. But all that is done. When they take their leave, bound for new adventures, we wave them farewell from that curved driveway that now is barely discernable among the ruins of the house in the 3D.
K: Well done!
I say to Amy. She is smiling.
A: Yes.

Queens

Two, one two three four
Ev'rybody's talking about
Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, Tagism
This-ism, that-ism, is-m, is-m, is-m. 

This post is gong to be about Archetypes and Gender Identity. Anyone who has a problem with that, stop reading right now. The rest of you, carry on.

The conjunction of Caitlyn Jenner's revelation on the cover of Vanity Fair, the Supreme Court's upholding the rights of gay people to marry, and the murder of 9 people in Charleston for being black has brought up matters of identity in the US. Over on the Joseph Campbell Mythological Roundtable, this has received a lot of discussion. The views range from the 'scientific' - what according to DNA IS 'gender identity'?- to the spiritual - archetypes, the Hero's Journey - to the cultural - what does it mean to be gay, black, fe/male at this time?

The answers of individuals - like the view of historians or biographers - is often more illuminating as to the writer than their subject. But that in itself is instructive as to where we are in the process of Change as a society right now, thus Important.

One of the most interesting discussions, to me, is the re-emergence of the Queen archetype in the female life span, as opposed to Maiden/Mother/Crone being the only options. I take this very personally, as Persephone - one of my major archetypes - embodies three of those modes (Maiden/Queen/Crone)- with Queen of the Underworld being the 'most enduring' (of the longest duration) There of the three. Here in the 3D I have achieved three of those four stages (Maiden/Mother/Queen) and was stuck in the Maiden/Damsel Who Must Be Rescued for a very long time, well into the Mother/Queen st/age. The quarternity, in Jungian terms, is well-presented here.

The Damsel in Distress

This is the immature version of the saboteur. Like the saboteur, this young woman remains self-absorbed, aloof, and does not really understand her environment. It has become disappointing to her as it at best has not met her needs and at worst has entrapped her. Her lack of prior inquisitiveness has left her untaught, ill-prepared and unable to provide for herself. She needs to be rescued from her own life. Unfortunately her lack of relatedness has left her stranded with out known options that would be able to bring about resolution. As in her adult form, her distance from her own needs not only undermines the environment, but sabotages herself. Her need to relate is trapped within her, i.e. self-absorbed, she is well aware that she has needs, but does not have a clue as to how to bring them about. She is trapped, and awaiting divine intervention.

Queen/Mother

I offer this archetypal combination to both honor Toni Wolfe’s original labeling and to acknowledge that there is an aspect of this complexual form that does not have to be a biological mother. The queen/mother aspect of a woman is a complex that has a personal relationship with her subjects and assumes the responsibility of providing an environment in which her subjects can thrive and flourish and find the relational qualities necessary for harmony to exist in the queendom. Her very presence in life leads her through experiences to discover the role that awaits her. Her role will be to instill in her subjects the qualities that she, by her own inner sense of things, deems important. Her dedication to this labor force her to surrender some aspects of her natural sensuality. Her seductress is commonly one of the first victims of this commitment. She may even be tempted to convert her relationship with her lover into that of mother-son, which will provide her mate with a safe place to exist in so his energies are free to provide financial and maintenance support to her family. She tends to be very supportive of social systems that provide an extended environment in which her children or subject are safe to explore and then return to her. The mother has truly surrendered herself and her path as an individual. Her view of wholeness is not simply herself, but the oneness of herself with her self defined charges, be these children or adults. She, of course , will sacrifice herself for her charges, for she has traded her individual path for the opportunity to be the creator and inspiration of her charges who in her creative side she hopes will fulfill and surpass the dreams that she sacrificed to care for them. So, the accomplishments of her subjects become her fulfillment.

The Medial

This aspect of the adult feminine is impersonal as is the amazon, but opposes the amazon in that the fields she play in are the fields of spirit and unconscious ideation. The medial is a channel from the external world to her internal or from the collective unconscious to potential consciousness. She is naturally in tune with her environment and with her intuitive abilities attunes herself to the vibrations that surround her. Her strength is in her ability to trust the internal message over what is obviously standing in front of her as the two commonly oppose each other in the world of the medial. She has some Hecate or witch like qualities about her in that she knows what she knows. But, this knowing does not come to her through reason or exploration. Rather, if she comes near it, it just invades her and demands recognition. When she is surrounded by light creative energy all is well with her and those about her. However, when darkness or discord appear on the horizon of the unconscious, she is the first to sense it. If she denies the intuitive invasion, then the dynamics are pushed into her own shadow and she may be forced to act out the discord in physical or psychological illness. However, the structural form of the medial is truly a vessel, not a receptacle. Therefore, she can avoid this illness by simply allowing the energy of the intuition to pass through her by announcing it to consciousness (either hers or to whomever it may belong). One of the tricky aspect of being a medial is determining for whom her bells tolls. She can easily cause great discord herself by confusing inner messages from her own unconscious with collective material or by assuming that every thought that ripples through her head is a message for someone. Just like the amazon needs to refine her skills, so the medial needs to refine hers. Her unwillingness to apply discipline and wisdom to her gift can be her seriously detrimental to both herself and those close to her.

While it is true that in the Upper Astral (5th Dimension) and Mental (6/7th Dimension) there isn't gender as we think of it here in the 3D, there is an habitual choice of projection for purposes of communicating in the 4th and 5th Dimensions, commonly known as Gender. In specific, all the people we have met thus far in this blog - Franz, Madame, George, Claire, Amy - are actually non-gendered, but project the aspects of gender 'for convenience's sake' [their words] because 'it is hard to get excited by a fuzzy orange blob' [George]. No spirit (or Higher Self or whatever you wish to call it) has gender. It never did. Soul fragments have whatever gender in whatever worlds system the soul goes into as a personality (and some of them have as many as 36 'genders' as we think of them here on Earth) for reasons that have to do with the role taken on.

It is also true that in utero here on earth, certain 'outside influences' [ hormones in food] and 'naturally occurring' influences [over secretion of certain hormones due to enzyme block or lacks as in my own family] can cause hormone and actual physical changes in the embryo, fetus, child and adult, with the cascade of concomitant difficulties and 'gender ambiguity' manifestations (intersex newborns, assigned a particular gender at birth).

My role here - apart from whatever else I am doing - and There is as 'Queen of the Underworld', helping those who are being born and dying with their transitions. I understand the dynamics of physical and non-physical life very well, both in its functional and 'spiritual' aspects. But Claire, for all her having actors ( soul fragments) who have been females and going by a female name - which means Light - hasn't a gender. Many of her aspects are what archetypally would be considered masculine. Her relationships with Madame and Amy and others could conceivably be considered 'romantic' (but so could those with Franz and George). This is an aspect of the 'genderlessness' referred to earlier.

The practical resonance for me here is that I am very 'open-minded' about gender issues, and always have been. I have my own personal preferences - I am very girly girl in many ways, but my mind is logical and thus 'masculine' - but I do not allow these to affect my view of others' co-called 'choices'. The reasons one incarnates in one body type with the mind, spirit and emotions of another are quite complex, and not mine to 'pass judgement upon.'

We are here in this 3D plane at this time as people, to break the stereotypes of what it means to be human, in preparation for being an off-planet civilisation and encountering others (so-called aliens) whom we definitely will view as Other. Gender issues are kindergarten compared to that.

Interconnection

Convo with Claire:
K: When Patricia and the I/There fragments live together There,  will there be an effect here, and if so, what?
C: There is always an effect of one's interaction, here and there, as you know.  We in no way operate in a vacuum, but are constantly responding to the changes you make by making choices - on your own or prompted by some of us. The fluidity of this changing scenery is known to you here (in terms of changes in job, living spaces.)
   In answer to your second question - in specific, you you - there will be a greater sense of ease and wholeness, because the 'missing part' of yourself (as a twin-consciousness) will be restored. You have 'missed your sister' for 50-odd years, and told everyone so. The connection (to  my sister-fragment, and not just  Amy)will be restored and very fruitful. She has felt separated from you as well. The effect here will be a lessening of attention on that fragment for Amy, an increase in the intermingling of Amy and myself [Claire], Amy and her other earth-bound fragments, and Amy and Arthur (the fellow she lives with in the Eco Village).
K: Speaking of that, how will this affect my I/There living in the Eco Village/Villa?
C: You will still have those residences. But you will also have access to the cottage/village life [of us sisters].
K: to they are adjacent to the Town?
C: Yes.
K: I see. So, Patricia loves English country life as well?
C: We should have thought that would be obvious.

Retrieval: Preemie Self

I am in the EcoVillage, preparing to go retrieve some fragmented parts of the present consciousness. In the common area, I put out the intention and ask that any of our community who is willing and experienced who wish to come with me show up. To my surprise, Franz and Madame show up their Joe and Maggie guise, complete with hippie-ish clothes and jewellery. They are, in a manner, my 'parents' There, and better than anybody I suppose to come with me.

We travel down to the Recreation area, with its park like broad lawns and sunny vistas then down towards the Midlands. At the border Joe asks me in which order [of age] I wish to do this. I signal that I should like to do it in chronological age, and we progress over to the Rest Centre.

There in the quiet, calm sanitoria-like setting, we go to a plastic crib where a tiny infant is crying. It is very small – no longer than my hand – and a maroon colour. It is extremely premature, and looks almost like an alien. It is very upset, but its noises are gurgling and squeaking, rather than the squall of a full-born infant. This is my infant self, I recognise, frozen in time on the day of my sister's death, 19 March, 1963.

I feel VERY emotional, feeling all its grief and abandonment, as the only person it knew in this world is gone. I find my hand over my heart – a very frequent gesture of mine when distressed. ['why does the Minister hold his hand over his heart?' - Pearl Prynne, The Scarlet Letter]

M: you can pick her up.

Joe smiles encouragingly. I feel an intense longing for my sister. I can't do this alone.

K:I want Amy!

Amy appears, in bohemian attire, with her dark blonde hair unbound in fuzzy spirals. She puts her hand on my shoulder and nods. Carefully, I pick up the tiny baby, poor little baby self! And bring it near. I pick up the little blanket – the size of a dinner napkin – and put over it. I have always hated hearing little babies cry. I talk to it, and so does Amy, and sway in the way every mother does with babies.

K/A: hush little baby! There's no need to cry! See, sissy is here with you! You are not alone! You will never be alone any more! You will be taken care of and Sissy and I will visit you often!

Joe and Maggie are looking on with loving expressions, and though I am pouring tears, I feel the attention of the tiny baby shift, and I look at her.

She is looking at me with very dark, indigo eyes with silver streaks. She has no lashes or brow yet, nor fingernails. But she is aware, and gazes at me intently. I know that she has understood me.

K: What do we do now?

I don't know if I am supposed to take her to my parents, the staff here, or what.

J: Everything is ready to go, all her little things. You can bring her to the Children's Centre right now.

The Children's Centre is where those who have died as infants or children go to 'grow up' and continue on their lives here. They are cared for by older people, and are largely removed from the Education centres, but are sometimes seen in packs on the lawn of the recreation area, like an eternal manifestation of Neverland (except they do grow up). I am overcome again with emotion. I have always loved 'Peter and Wendy'... Another resonance! Leading back to that day of death, when I had to soldier on alone here.

But she is alone no more. And never will be again.

Joe leads us over to the attendant's area, where there is indeed a little case and an old fashioned little blue dress (very like to one I dressed my own daughter in at her first visit from her godmother.)

Amy and I dress her and wrap her.

A: like playing dolls

She is smiling.

I thank the attendant for caring for her and we go out the side door near into the brilliant sunshine. In a moment we all four of us are at the Children's Centre, where the gate attendant is waiting, smiling.

CCA: we were told to expect you!

They look at our 'little dolly' [Claire's phrase for ME to George!] with a smile.

CCA: such a pretty girl! Oh don't you worry, she'll be fine! Patricia was here too when she came, isn't that right, Amy?

I turn, and Amy is beaming, nodding and smiling and teary with happiness.

A: Oh yes! They took such good care of her, Claire! You'll see! She'll be so happy!

She hugs me, and shows me that Patricia is waiting in a little English Cotswolds cottage in the residential area in 5 [the 5^th Dimension, F32]

A: when she is grown she and Patricia can live together, just like it was planned there!

She hugs me again because I am crying.

CCA: You can bring her in and see that's she's settled.

I look at Joe and Maggie.

Joe: We'll be right here.

Amy, the attendant and I go into the main building, which isn't at all like the horrible school that swallowed up Sarah Crewe in A Little Princess, which is what I was slightly afraid of [another resonance!] but is cheerful and full of light and flowers, with children running up and down the halls and stairs. I look in one of the rooms and the children are all happily working on projects, like a Montessori school.

The Matron comes out from her office. She is young and pretty, with dark hair and a flowing white dress and jangling bracelets.

Mn: Hello, Claire! Hello Amy I'm so glad you came! And this is the little one!

She comes and looks, smiling, then says to the attendant,

Mn: Thank you Jezriel! You can go along now. We'll be fine.

She looks at me.

Mn: You understand that we don't isolate the babies here? Come I'll show you our nursery!

We follow her to a back room on the ground floor, which is very sunny. The babies indeed sleep all together in large cribs on the floor, like playpens, full of soft blankets and toys. The very little ones are kept in smaller beds, also on the floor, by twos and threes.

A: so you see, she shall indeed never be alone or lonely.

The Matron explains the daily routine, which includes music and colours and interaction with animals once the babies are old enough. There is exercise, and walks in prams in the sunshine, and continual loving interaction by the attendants, some of whom are young, some of whom are soft doughy grandmotherly types.

Down the hall, I see the dormitory for the slightly older children. Again, it is on the model of group beds. Matron says,

Mn: because our experience shows that is what the children want, until they are well into their teens.

After viewing the classrooms and other dormitories, the petting zoo and garden, I am satisfied that my little baby self will be well-nurtured. But the time has come to leave her here and I am finding it very difficult, despite the assurances.

My mother appears, in her beautiful Kim Novakesque guise.

K: I know how hard it was, Mutti!

She smiles and embraces me.

N: I know, sweetie. [That is what I call my own children...]

She is teary too, looking at the little baby as she last saw her.

N: but she will be all right here, and you and I and Patty will visit.

At her voice, the little baby looks up, transfixed.

N: See, she knows me.

She touches the little head, then kisses it, gesturing that I and Amy should do the same.

We do and Mutti says to the Matron,

N: There you are now, Marisa. I think we are ready.

We all look at each other, Mutti Amy and I, three grown women, and I realise that we haven't done this before, haven't been together since those long ago days. Many embraces and loving tears later, Amy and I hand over Baby Self to Marisa the Matron, who treats her very gently and lovingly, and we turn to go.

At the gates, Joe and Maggie are right there, as promised.

They greet my mother warmly

J/M: hello dear Natalie, you look so well. It's so nice to see you again!

They all exchange embraces, chatting happily.

Then Joe turns to me.

Joe: So, little one, are you ready to go back now?

He looks across the fields towards the Eco Village.

Joe: the gathering will be going on when we get back, and you and Amy can share your success with everyone.

He is smiling broadly, encouragingly.

Maggie takes up my hand

M: You did splendidly!

She squeezes my hand hard.

I bid farewell to my mother and the four of us move quickly over the landscape towards home.

The Unquiet Dead

Meeting, Theatre Office, Claire, Amy

They are in the mica-shaded light of the tiny office, discussing the progress of recent returnees in adapting to life here. Claire is wearing soft woolen khaki trousers and a white shirt, like old days when Franz was Director, but her fuzzy golden brown hair is soft. Amy is wearing overalls and a dark blue show t-shirt (The Incredible Mr. Cassinov), and braids. Apparently, one of the most recent is having a very hard time with the 'calls' from his wife who is still incarnate and they are deciding what to do about it.

C: Taking him to the border and letting him see and be heard could be dangerous, or at least more upsetting than it's worth.

A: But you remember what happened to [X]

Several months ago, a similar situation happened and the discarnate was 'strongly advised against' going down near enough to be heard by a loved one, and, following the advice, became so despairing that they had to return to the Rest Center, to be put into a kind of coma until they recover. They are still there.

This begs the question of free will; indeed, of communication with the discarnate from this side at all. Claire, if I may? (We go into the aisle of the house.)

C: Those who come here, who manage to get here without being caught up in the Borderlands or the Midlands, or be so shell-shocked that they need a rest cure, have work to do in sorting themselves out, in acclimatising before they can properly focus and review the life with their guide before going to the Council with their conclusions. This acclimatisation is hindered if they are continually called upon by the incarnate in an emotional manner. The HS or guide should be the one to handle the incarnate's emotion, not the one here. Your traditional cultures have guidelines about this transition period. Your own English-based culture used to have a similar period of a year and a day, when the grave was let to lie and sink before a stone was put up. The family members were encouraged to spend that time in seclusion, away from the grave, before your secular world took over in the 1600s. Those of your present societies who practise shamanism know these proscriptions well. You have wondered often at 'not hearing from' various family members who have come here for long periods after their transition. This is the reason. They are busy. We are busy helping them adjust. Some take longer than others. This is the origin of the phrase 'let the dead bury the dead', as the Judaic culture has this as well.

K: So, what should we say to those who have loved ones who have transitioned, and are having a hard time of it?

C: Prevail upon their friends there to aid and succour them. Or if they are amenable, explain to them that they can call on their HS and guides and we will answer. But make clear that the departed one is busy adjusting to 'eternal' life and making their life review.

K: Thank you. On this subject, what do you do with someone there who insist on interacting with incarnate people in this period?

C: We try our best to dissuade them, but if they insist, they will be escorted to the Borderlands by a guide, not necessarily their own guide and teacher, and watched over during the process. However, more often than not, the experiment is a failure, because while the grieved want communication, they are not of a vibrational pattern to actually experience it.

K: I presume that the companion is there not just as a scout to show the way, but to help them if they should go off the rails, as it were?

C: That is correct. The success of the mental state following such an attempt depends entirely on the vibrational level and experience of the one here. However, it is true that largely, those who request such visits are coming off of a Baby-to-Early Mature soul age life [not that the fragment is actually OF that age, they were just putting on the level for that life role.] Younger souls are typically more malleable and interested in being taken care of, and older souls are too busy enjoying being back and getting back into their lives and homes here.

K: Thank you. This brings up the matter of the Borderlands and retrievals, but I know that you are busy, so I will let you get back to work.

Claire signals an indigo blue/purple light flash – her vibrational signature and level – with a benevolent expression, and then is back in the office with Amy.

Shift

One of the reasons I decided to begin this record is that I recently underwent a transformation in my relationship with my 'I/There', Higher Self, Claire, and my teacher George. This was due to a life change that I made back in October, quitting my 'safe' day job because I was ill, and it was leave or possibly die, especially as the prescribed meds for my adrenal condition at the level at which I was allowed did not help. This precipitated many unforeseen 'adventures' and 'learning experiences.' This begs the question, 'why are bad things allowed to happen?'The answer to this is complex. Sometimes the answer is ' this was  the life plan before coming in.' Sometimes it is 'this was called to the individual by their vibrational level [thoughts, emotions].'

In an effort to understand this latest in 'a series of unfortunate events', I asked Claire why there was this continually bumpy journey.

Claire: This is due to relying on the judgement and suggestions of George, who while he means well, is too attached [to me] to be balanced in his guidance.

Those pithy words were resonating and revolutionary. I recognised the truth of them when they were spoken. This role of mine, what I think of as 'I' here, was one of the first creations of George's when he moved into creating such roles. It would be fair to say that he was attached to the his creation, and invested in seeing it continue, to a degree that, indeed, was unbalanced. His good intentions of seeing often-ill me 'taken care of' have led me into some very bad space, because I very erroneously trusted his judgement more than my own. I decided after this to follow Claire's advice rather than George's, and to accept that his intentions were good.

If I compare George's way of being to that of Claire, I see a person who is practical, pithy, using logic rather than emotion. She is compassionate, but is not sentimental. Her interest is truly in problem solving in very practical ways. Some people There find her tough, but she is in no way unkind.

Then several weeks later, I was driving home from down 'the Hill' as we call Idyllwild, and out of the blue, for reasons I cannot yet fathom, I asked George what it took for him to be persuaded to make me stay when I was a tiny premature infant suffering apnea, and my twin sister had already died. When my sister died, and I was in such a poor way, there was a meeting with my Life Council, Franz, George, Claire, and Amy (whose 'downline' was my sister.) The Life Council was for my staying; everyone else was against (including me.) George is the one who convinced me, and he was persuaded to do so, I  understood, 'against his desire.' I am given to understand that when a direct question is asked, an answer will be given. I was stunned at George's response. He appeared very abashed.

George: I was persuaded that your continuing would allow my experiment to continue.

 I was livid. Ego. It was all about ego.... Except that it made sense of all his efforts to have me 'taken care of in his absence' in the face of my lifelong illness and soft nature.

It took several weeks for me to get my head around this action, and to forgive it and go on with the relationship. I have done, but I put more stock in what Franz advises and certainly what Claire advises.

These conversations bring up the matter of fallibility, time, and personal growth There. Some people appear to believe that just because someone is dead, they know everything, and have nothing to learn, that there is 'no time' at all and everlasting sameness. But there is a scale of 'time' and growth, though it is of a very different scale to that of the 3D. I have experienced moving from one 'status' to another, one job to another, one abode to another. And the experience with George shows that even a lower Mental plane level discarnate person doesn't have all the answers and is subject to 'learning experiences'. This should not be discouraging, rather the opposite. We are always in a space to grow. For George, he has learned from this not to take his work so personally, to 'let the winds of Heaven dance between you.' For me, I have made a tremendous shift towards greater self-reliance and taking advice as ADVICE, just as I would from a friend or sibling here, not as a directive or as coming from someone who 'knows better' than I.