Interference, Free Will, Prayer, and Autonomy

With respect to George and his various incarnations, attitude toward me, et al. Claire [Higher Self] pointed out that he was 'Much too attached to his creation [me] to give good advice about the role'. Pygmalion and Galatea. ( the Greek myth of Pygmalion, a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he had carved.) He created this role among the first that he did when he started doing that as his work. Claire has rather derisively referred to me as his 'dolly'. He is the Junior Teacher/Guide, which I didn't appreciate fully until relatively recently. Claire's thesis, with which I concur, is that he is 'too close to the subject' to advise properly. He has, in effect, an agenda.


Franz is the Senior Teacher and is much better at advice, though he has his biases as well (his last incarnation - Franz Liszt - became a Secular Franciscan and a lay Abbot of a monastery after he had had two LT relationships and two illegitimate daughters, whom he acknowledged - one of whom married Richard Wagner. HIS bias was that his time working at the Abbey was so full of rest and peace that he thought it would be good for me to 'work for the Church'. I knew on the first day that it was a bad idea, but I needed a job....)

As to practical advice, George's  last incarnation was hopeless about money and practical things. Everyone knew it. His father in law gave G's wife an allowance, without which they would not have survived (he only made the equivalent of about 20K a year as a teacher).

And then there's Byron, his other famous incarnation. Let's leave aside the moral questions and focus on the BiPolar Disorder, of which spendthrift habits are a common symptom. In one year only -1813-14 - Byron spent the equivalent of $30Million, with drafts every couple of days for months on end.

Would you take life advice from this man?

Then there was the $64M question: I had gone to Riverside to meet my brother Greg for lunch (halfway) and on the way back, I was coming up the Hill and apropos of nothing I had the wit to ask George what did the Life Council say to him to get him to convince me to come back here after my sister died and I was having NDEs every other day (as everyone else was against it - George, Claire, Franz, Amy who was my sister).

Because if you ASK, they have to tell you the truth. Well, I reckon he was hoping that it would not come up because he looked awfully uncomfortable, and he said,

'They said it would allow my experiment to continue' [ That is, the creation of this role, - me - of which he was rather chuffed.]

Wow. Ego.

I was furious, and told him to get stuffed. Fix this mess we are in and maybe I will talk to you again.

He has since been away from the Villa except for once, on his own course work. I talk to Franz, often to Claire, but George has made himself scarce, because he knows I am not kidding. It is the worst personal betrayal since incarnating a long time ago in a galaxy far far away (which was also his idea. 'It'll be fun, we can have adventures.')

Hrm.

I should say that he IS very good with other people, because he is neutral or benignly neutral about them This is the same reason that Franz is better with me, because he is  [mostly] neutral.

I can hear your objections to some of this, mainly that those finished incarnating are still subject to a learning curve. Yes. Until the mid-Causal - or Mental - Plane. Yes they are.
The Mental Plane: The First Heaven
 The Mental Plane: The Second Heaven
The Mental Plane: The Third Heaven

George is only at the level of the mid part of the lower Mental Plane. He has a way to go. He is getting there, learning and worked. Making mistakes is how we learn.
He won't forget this one.

A friend of mine who is a 'brother' of sorts to George made the comment some years ago that Claire has caught them up very quickly, in relative terms. She is in the lower part of the Mental plane, after having been far far below them in age and experience not so very long ago, relatively speaking - a couple of cycles ago.

In answer to why can't I just 'skip over to another timeline' as is popularly supposed in the New Age community, A distinction must be drawn between my self and Claire (Self). We are and are not the same thing. In the Michael teaching, individuals are referred to as 'fragments' and this is valid. Each individual lifetime is its own 'thing' and does not have all the knowledge of the Higher Self. We cannot simply bootstrap ourselves to that level (as scientologist acquaintances of mine seem to think.) Neither does the individual have all the knowledge of other fragments of the HS,which aren't necessarily in the same 'reincarnational' line as oneself, unless there is some reason to have it. All are 'Me' but not all are 'me', if you get my drift.

And there is the matter of 'interference' by certain negatively oriented densities (up til the mid-5th  density one can be negatively oriented) in the over-arching world plot and individuals' lives. It has been brought to my attention several times that there are those who are interfering at high levels - as in with the Committees which create the big, worlds plots, which I think is valid based on my observations. Why? because they can. (It also places the level of the Committees, because if they were in the upper Mental plane, they could not be influenced (interfered with).

This discussion goes right back to the nature of the 'local sub-logos' (what most people mean when they refer to 'God') as my Canadian friend Mark calls it. I mentioned once to him that I perceived that not only was 'God' not the Ultimate or Source, but that there was (at least) one 'above' that before one reached Source, the Tao ,All that is , whatever. and he responded with his 'local sub-logos' comment.

These are the limits of my understanding, my personal observations. I know the planes between the Mental and the 'local sub-logos' as charted vibrationally and from the teachers who come from there and talk to us in large groups There. But that is all.

None of this helps one whit with the extreme density of the physical plane, so-called free will, being interfered with here (because they can and are allowed to because 'free will' and 'all experiences are data'.) We're not 'on our own' here -we do have help and guidance, but we are responsible for our own experience here. Hail Mary plays (to use a football term) from discarnate friends are not always allowed. Yes prayer works - mostly to combat the negativity and interference, so far as I have been able to see. We're supposed to do the best we can once we get here, and if we get waylaid, well, someone else will do whatever later (like the instance of Tesla's work being railroaded and finally taken up again by others now.) Time doesn't mean very much to the Committee. Not does personal suffering. It's all fodder for the game.

And if that sounds like the Hunger Games, well. Yes.

Retrieval VI -Tween

It was brought to my attention by Franz that part of the problem of recurring life crashes also comes from the experience I had as a young girl and teenager. When the adoptive mother died, the adoptive father went into a severe depression. Oh, he went to work every day, but there was no food except potatoes and beans, no medical care for the child, no money for clothes or sanitary supplies (let alone going out with friends). Some of this was ameliorated by the advent of friends of his when the child was 14, but the damage - physical, emotional, mental - had been done.

So Claire and I go to the house of my childhood, dressed in business clothes, under the shade of the elm trees, and up the path. Claire reminds me very much in clothes and manner of Dana Scully [X Files]. The house has not yet been turned into a monstrosity, as it was later at the behest of his third wife. We ring the bell and wait. Behind the coloured glass of the door, there is a figure. It bends, peering out the letterbox.

'We are from Child Protective Services,' says Claire crisply. 'Will you open the door please?'
The door opens with slow caution. There is a thin child with dark circles under her eyes. About 12 years old. Wearing cheap, shabby, too-small tank top and shorts. She looks at us fearfully.
C: May we come in?
The girl stares at us.
C: we are here to help you. We won't hurt you.
She flashes a County employee badge. The girl nods, and opens the door wider.
C: Where is your father?
D: Out. I don't know where.
She is stammering.
C: That's as well.

We go inside and sit on the sofa in the living room. The child is sitting on the ottoman. No shoes. Claire takes firm but gentle charge.
C: I am Miss Offreduccio [St. Clare's last name]. I would like to ask you some questions about how you are doing.
D: Who sent you?
She is still stammering in fear.
K: A neighbour... Mary Lou. She is concerned about you.
This neighbour actually was apparently concerned at the time. She nods.
Claire proceeds to ask her how often the parent is gone, what she eats and how often, and asks if she has adequate clothes and medical care. writing down all the answers on a clipboard she has pulled from her briefcase. She betrays no emotion, simply nods and writes. At length, however, the girl is crying and she looks up with empathy.
C: you don't have to worry any more, D. You will be taken care of now. I promise.
D: what about him? [the adoptive father]
C: We will deal with him. Don't worry.
She stands up and looks at me.
C: Miss Watters will help you pack the things you want to take with you and change your clothes. Then we will go to a nice place where you will be looked after.

So saying, I take the child to her room, letting her lead the way, even though I know it. We search the closet for a dress. My hand hovers over the green-flocked white one that was worn to the adoptive mother's funeral.
D: Not that! I hate it. Burn it!
I pick a red plaid cotton instead. It is rather too small, being 3 years old, but clean. We search for whole undergarments and shoes. The only nice shoes are also too small. We opt for sandals. When she is dressed, I fix her hair in an ingenue style, half-up in a ponytail, and tie it up with ribbon.
Then I help her pack an old suitcase with the small treasures she wants to bring. We are ready.

We go out, and Claire has left a note on the dining table to the 'adoptive father' [who is of course not there; the girl has been alone all this while.] Nodding to us, she ushers us out and closes the door firmly.
C: Let's go.
Taking the girl by the hand, we walk to the end of the large street adjacent to the house and turn, upwards toward what would be a bridge over the river, but we are speeding along toward the Children's Centre.

At the Centre, we are greeted warmly by the Directress, who is out in front. Then, Patricia, my sister, comes running down the steps and flings herself with joy on the girl, who is crying now for a different reason. She is the same age as the girl [for convenience's sake]. and, arms intertwined, they go inside without a backward glance. She will be quickly assimilated with the other fragmented parts, and go to live with her sister in her cottage.

I feel emotional. The long nightmare legacy of want and deprivation, of no one to care for that young girl at a critical time in her life, is over.
Finit. Amen.

C: Apart from the resonance [of herself, St. Clare], the desire to escape to safety and being cared for forever was a large unconscious part of the motivation to be a Poor Clare.
K: Yes, I can see that.
C: It's not a reason for not being accepted, or remaining, but several key elements would have been missed [my kids, my brothers...]
K: Noted.
She smiles at me, St. Clare's brilliant smile.
C: Let's go home, shall we?

Bekka - Retrieval V

This was something of an experiment, and I felt quite sick at the prospect. I wasn't sure where I would find her, or who to 'be'.

Berlin, 1950

 In traveling down to the lower astral, I find myself in Berlin in 1950, beside the railroad station adjacent to her apartment building.  I love the buildings, and the cleanness of everything as compared to 2015, even in this situation. I have decided to be Ingrid Hemmendorf, a friend of hers in the BDM and NSF (women's org) during the war. Ingrid was also of a once well-off family. I am wearing a sage-green suit and pink blouse, lovely upswept hair -very blonde- and heels. Visiting clothes.

I go up to ring the bell and two men come up behind me. Not the Secret Police. Sepp in a dark-blue suit and pale blue shirt with no tie - casual wear; and Otto (Franz in disguise. 'Uncle Otto' who was actually a cousin once removed and only ten years older than Bekka). Tall, stately, dark. Like a film star, in a beautiful, expensive  dark suit. A welcoming committee. Sepp makes a joke about taking a holiday but being under dressed, compared to his companion. 

She buzzes the door open and we walk up the green-carpeted hall. The carpet is shabby, the walls rather dingy. There is a lift but it doesn't work, so we walk up the stairs to the first floor. Down to the left, then on the right is her flat. Number 13 (floor plus room, first floor, third room). Otto knocks on the door. She opens it, her face alight.

'Uncle Otto!' She clasps his hand. She is wearing a wool maroon dress and frilly apron (for receiving, not for housework), her hair done, with the front swept up and curled all round. Worn, but good shoes. The small flat is immaculate, but shows signs that she changed since the street door bell - the bedroom door is ajar and there is the smell of face powder.

She invites us all in and greets us warmly, one by one. Leading to the chairs  in the sitting room, she returns with coffee and sachertorte on a tray. Tiny demitasse cups. The tray and dishes all clearly are second-hand, but the cutlery is actual silver. 

"I am sorry that Karl is at school until later, so you cannot see him,' she says, sitting down and passing the items. The armchair  she sits in is square, of a shiny green fabric, second-hand. To its right is a better chair that Sepp sits in, myself on a kitchen chair and Otto on the small sofa, across from her. Otto holds up his hand.
'It is no trouble. We will see him later.'

There is some short time of catching up - enquiries after friends and relative. She is happy, if wistful. I get the impression from her that she envies us our ability to 'move around', as she is 'stuck in Berlin' working at the coffeehouse. Sepp is slouched in the chair, Thomas-fashion, with the cake plate balanced on his chest. He rubs his jaw ironically, and drawls, 'Well, funny thing, I am going on a holiday to Bern, and when I was arranging it, I happened upon your uncle.... I was wondering id you would like to come along, and show me the sights, visit your family....' Worst non-sequitor ever. Way to be subtle.  It;s hardly even probable that  he would have encountered Otto in a booking agent's here in Berlin. But she is so happy to see them, she takes all of it at face value.

She looks at Otto, with a joyful, expectant, questioning expression. Is it possible? Possible to 'be forgiven' (for something that was out of her control!), welcomed back into the bosom of a family that she left at age 8. She and her boy. Otto is smiling. 'That's what I came here for, to ask if you would come  and stay with us at the Bergschlosse, you and Karl,,,' He looks at Sepp with a sardonic smile. 'The General is most welcome,' he says with courtliness. Sepp is smirking. Somewhere, Wolf and the other Habsburgs are bursting into flames. Bekka is very moved. 'Thank you, Uncle!' She repeats this many times.

'Ingrid can help you pack,' Otto says. 'We will wait.' He looks at Sepp. 

'There is sherry on the cabinet,' Bekka says, gesturing to the buffet under the window. The decanter and glasses are old, gold-rimmed.... Sepp looks like he has been invited to drink poison, but Otto, now smirking, brings over the glasses.

Meanwhile, I go with Bekka into the one bedroom. There is a very small 'double' bed, a dressing table, wardrobe, and chair. From underneath the bed, she  retrieves two battered old suitcases. A smallish pullman and a smaller dressing case.

'I'm afraid there isn't much to pack,' she apologises. Going to the wardrobe, there are two dresses, an extra school uniform, and in the drawers beneath, two sets of underclothes each, a pair of capris and top, and a scarf. (But it is an Hermes scarf.)

'That's quite all right,' I say. 'I'm sure there will be time to get suitable things in Switzerland.'

We pack up the few clothes and I put the items from the dressing table quietly in the small case. There are a few photographs: her parents, one of Otto, and one of the Berghof (! I am uncertain as to whether I should include this). I ask her if she wants to take these with her.

'Why?'

'Well, Otto seemed to imply that you would be staying.'

She stops folding the sheet from the bed she has stripped, and stares at me. Looking around the room, almost alarmed, she regards me in consternation.

'I didn't think of that!' Her hand goes to her hair. I smile.

'You look lovely. Perfectly presentable to your family.' 

'I must at least remove my apron!' 

She does so, then 'What about collecting Karl  from school?' She looks at her watch. 'It isn't nearly time.'

'I'll see.' I go out.

Sepp and Otto are exchanging rude stories. Otto is smoking a cigarette elegantly. I tell them we need Karl. Otto shakes his head, mashing out the cigarette in the tray.

'Not a problem.' He goes to the telephone - heavy, black, Lucite - and speaks to the 'operator' then rings off. 'Tell her he is being sent for.'

I do and help bring the cases out. She has put on a little round cocktail hat - a circle of velvet and net with cherries - lipstick, and dark gloves.

'Hubba hubba,' says Sepp, and whistles through his teeth. She blushes. Otto comes and takes her hands.

'You look lovely.'

There is is a sound at the door,and Karl bursts in, an 8 year old boy in shorts and coat - his school uniform. Looking exactly like Otto as a child.

'Mamma!' He runs over and flings himself on her. (I understand that she has actually been all alone, forever waiting one afternoon for him to come home from school.)

'Well, he certainly is one of us,' Otto says drily. He makes a bow. 'Hello, boy. I am your uncle Otto.'

Karl stops and looks up curiously. ' You look like Grandfather.' (The picture on the dressing table.)

'He was my uncle,' Otto says.

'Liebling,' says Bekka,' we are going on a journey with Uncle and the General to visit my aunt Sophie in Switzerland.'

'When, Mamma?'

'Now,' says Otto.

At that, all rise and do out, downstairs, and to the train station adjacent. Here 'Ingrid' will leave them, and when they stop, they will be in Switzerland here. I turn to Bekka. 'It was so good to see you again my dear! You will write?'

'Yes. Thank you for coming, Ingrid. It is good to see old friends.' There are presses of both cheeks. I watch them  go through the gate and wave them off as Otto hands the cases to a porter. The green train starts off slowly.

I can feel her happiness. She will heal in Switzerland, with family and friends, and move on to her life here, one of us. Helping others, perhaps. Immortal. The dark wound of the past erased.

***

Convo with Franz. I thank him for stepping in, and playing it to the hilt.

K: So, what will this freeing of Bekka accomplish for me, if anything? (I understand perfectly well what it will accomplish for her.)

F: An easing of the 'tragedienne' complex that Claire has mentioned, specifically of 'putting yourself last' and into situations that are impossible to extricate yourself from without help from us. It will also clear out any lingering feelings of 'not belonging'. The nearer she moves to Switzerland, the better she and you feel. When she is there, in the bosom of her family, the realisation of what kind of holiday she is on will dawn [that she is dead] and she will begin to work on experience - processing, releasing.  She may then be in Switzerland or anywhere else here she chooses. For you, the 'desire to be just a housewife' will wane, as well as freeing  the energy surrounding the conflicts regarding hearth and home.

Young women of the BDM

 

Bekka-esque

Sepp

Sepp and Ursula

 

 Otto, Regina, and kinder

Otto

Otto as a child. Both Bekka and her son Karl looked like this.

* Legacy. The Karl here mentioned is Otto's son. The article below was written in 2004.

Karl Habsburg and two relatives are demanding that property worth hundreds of millions of pounds, including several castles and about 50,000 acres of woodland, be given back to the family in a claim filed with the Austrian Restitution Fund for the Victims of National Socialism.

Mr Habsburg, 42, dropped the aristocratic "von" from his name before becoming an MEP for the conservative Austrian People's Party. His father, Otto von Habsburg, is the head of the family.

The intervention by the dynasty's future patriarch has given fresh impetus to a campaign launched by other members of a family whose empire once stretched across much of central and eastern Europe. They say that if they win, the property will be placed in a trust for the benefit of 160 surviving Habsburgs.

"We don't want to be treated like second-class citizens any longer," said Christian Habsburg, the Euro MP's cousin, who co-filed last week's claim. "The Habsburgs were dispossessed by the Nazis and should be handed back property by the state, just like all the other victims of national socialism.

"We are talking about properties that my family had privately owned that were seized by the Nazis in 1938 and then taken after the war without compensation."
Research conducted by Otto's brother, the late Carl-Ludwig von Habsburg, revealed that Hitler had personally directed the campaign against the family.
The best-known asset is Laxenburg Palace and its extensive park, just outside Vienna. The palace, which dates to the middle ages, is open to the public and a popular destination for Viennese day-trippers and tourists. The total value of the disputed property has yet to be calculated, but the forests alone are worth about £135 million.
Although the Habsburgs were robustly anti-Hitler, there is disquiet in republican Austria at the idea of the Nazi restitution fund being used to aid the former royal ruling family when many Holocaust victims are still awaiting compensation. Austrian governments have previously said that they oppose paying money from the fund to the Habsburgs.
Yet Herbert Golsong, a Washington-based lawyer representing the family, said: "This was an act of Nazi revenge. It was a personal instruction from Hitler because members of the Habsburg family were employed in anti-Nazi propaganda abroad, especially in the US." The family had also helped Jewish people to flee to America, he said.

Captain of my Ship

Franz:
As to how to be a creator, the suggestion made by your friend [Frank DeMarco in The Cosmic Internet] to 'remote view your own life' is not a bad one, with some cautions about letting your  ego-mind magnify fears [Think Rimmer in red Dwarf in the holoworlds].
K; So, visualisation.
F: Yes but visualisation from the viewpoint of 'sensiing vectors', of looking at the avenues that are possible from your current standpoint of choices.  Every choice closes certain possibilities and opens others in your prospective futures. Some are malleable - you can go back - but others are not (such as choices that lead to dropping the body).

Parts of Self and Choice

In discussing the facilitation of goals with Franz today, a continuance of a previous conversation about the threads or resonance or Other [past] personalities of self occurred.

F: If your goal is to have a peaceful, financially stable life, then you must make inner and outer choices which facilitate this. If you wish, conversely, to 'rely solely on guidance and go wherever the wind takes you', this involves an entirely different set of choices; choices which are not being, I point out, entirely in keeping (harmony) with either your persona or the various threads (consciousnesses, 'lifetimes') active now in your make-up.

K:With regard to that, it would be interesting to see their orientations, views, and 'who's steering the ship', as it were.

F: Very well. A dossier:
Ancel [Master of the Scriptorium at Salisbury, 13th C] - contributes logic, and attention to craft and its preservation. His overriding attribute is analysis of the intersection of soul and spirit.

Bekka [Minor member of the Hapsburg family, a good faith offering to the Reich] performance of duty, putting self last. You are perceiving that her influence is largely detrimental  to your persona in terms of development, but she facilitates interface with your present culture's expectations.

Patty [Jefferson] this one has been self-deprecating to a self-destructive degree, but contributes a 'romantic' (feeling based) sensibility and love of beauty necessary to your work.

Molly [Pianist, wife of a university don] contributes logic in a practical manner - which is helpful in integrating the business world, and a very deep sense of beauty.

Ellie [Appalachian seamstress] this one also has  extremely self-deprecating tendencies, and the habit of following along, not standing up for herself. But she too has skill in craft, a good business sense and sense of beauty.

In all cases of the self-deprecating threads, it is important to separate out what is useful in their influence from what is not, which may not be apparent as such at first glance.

***
I then circled all the positives, for future reference and discussion with the personas. In the case of Bekka, I asked myself how I could avail of her facility with cultural expectations without descending into that 'loss of self' that was a hallmark of her life. I decided to use her (pardon the term) for those things that make life easy and pleasant: cleaning, cooking, baking, home craft. (Let her be a housewife) - which is where that desire comes from (in me), because she never got to except partly at the end of her life after the war.

I had then a strong sense of incoming information. and realised that I needed to change her outcome (she died as part of the infamous resistance after the war.) Several possibilities presented themselves, some humorous, such as running off with General Sepp Dieterich - a joke between them - but the most cohesive with her own life was to get her and her child Karl to Switzerland and be reunited with her Hapsburg relatives (beloved Uncle Otto and so on), as it was from them she was taken as a young child. It would be completing the circle.

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.

Caveat Emptor

An instructive conversation with Claire, regarding Life, Manifestation, and 'internal' or 'pastlife' influences. It appears that the Life Councils have not only responsibility for approval of a particular role (life) and the review process, but also of 'course corrections' along the way. Additionally, playing by the rules of the game here (in whatever one is doing) apparently cannot be circumvented. I understand that this applies to 'black opps' and 'secret societies' as much as to being a brick-layer or corporate financier. This conversation wasn't a 'feel good' boost (They aren't There solving all our problems for us), but it was interesting. I hope it 'proves' to someone that this isn't all a lot of hooey.

Meeting in Green Room of Theatre, on the squashy sofa. [Meetings here are the 'softer, kinder gentler' version of meetings onstage. All have to do with interactions in the 3D]

C: How can I help you?

K: I need assistance getting an income that will support me. It's all very well to 'belong to timelessness', but I have to pay my bills, keep a roof over my head, and food on the table. Same old problems.

C: have you taken into account what Franz said recently? [about work relating to former writings]

K: Yes. But I'm seeing no signs of it. So I don't trust it. I put in applications every day and nothing comes back. I send to agents and nothing comes back. I need assistance. I need a miracle.

C: Your council granted assistance.

K: Not seeing any sign of that either.

C: So you're feeling discouraged.

K: To put it mildly. As I mentioned to a friend just now, what use is knowing and seeing all this, how it works, when it makes not a blind bit of difference to practical life? Whoopie, I 'inspire people'. I shall inspire them ever so when I am dead because of lack of funds, meds, help. I just don't understand WHY the only things I have ever done to keep myself are also soul killing and debilitating to my adrenal condition.

C: Because you have settled for, allowed those things, when you found they were draining.

K: I have to get a living. No trust fund. None of my books has made me rich. Brother Rabbit has not. Even Williamsburg, much as I loved it, was very part-time. In fine, this life reads better than it lives, and I feel that I don't belong here, that the world doesn't need or want me.

C: belonging, again. Because you cannot thrive.

K: To heck with thrive, I just want to break even. I object to the 'do whatever it takes' philosophy, when no shops around here will hire me because I haven't food experience in decades, no business down the hill because … I don't know why.

C: Understand that I am not criticising you. I am in fact taking notes.

K:?

C: to present to the Council.

K: I see. Well thank you.

C: I recognise better than you do what factors are at play in the game. 

K... I had the cognition the other day that the personality and the 'sub'elements' if you will – other resonances [life-roles] that are affecting this personality – are in conflict in terms of desires. On the one hand, personality wants to immerse itself in the Brother Rabbit model of business (but there is no income from which to do that now) AND wants to leave. The various sub-factors want to 1) write and study anthro [Mary Anne O'Malley]; 2) Study the arcane [Ancel]; 3)stay home and manage things [Molly, Patty]; 4) go home (in both senses) [Ellie]. I can see how and when all these factors were or are at play in my life. Are there more?

C: Everything going on here. I know that your life there seems pointless to you, and has done for many years with the exception of the children. 'The effect of choice and the consequences of choice'. The affection and gratitude with which you are regarded is no small accomplishment, by the way. But as you say, 'that's nice, it doesn't put bread on the table.' WE are aware of this – Franz, George, and myself. Your Council is aware of it (through your and our repeated updates.) WE are working to try to change matters, change their minds regarding interference.

K: The maxim goes ' if you don't like something in your life, the way it's turned out, work to change it.' Well doing so, or going for 'what I wanted and am good at' has only resulted in material hardship, if not ruin, over and over. It is this which has got me down.

C: The part which is left out of that maxim is 'following the rules of the game you are playing'. Your problems have come from trying to skip several steps, unknowing that there were steps.

K: Great. I thought I was following signs correctly.

C: The rules of the game there still adhere.

K: So, what do I do?
C: as I have said, keep doing what you're doing. For our part, we're working on it, with other players there, with the Council. It will take a little while. But there are very promising leads.

K ...Thanks...

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.

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.