My Imoto san

Ephemera from a Dream:

A maiko san,

Attired for misedashi;

Resplendent in silk brocade.

Gilding her hair,

Two silver bira bira:

They shimmer and chime

At each gesture.

She is my imoto;

I am her one san.

In 17^th Century Kyoto,

We were geiko han.

Today we reunite

In virtual spheres.

Face to face we have not met,

Yet essences brush over leagues and years.

Adamantine, the carapace

Occludes a tender heart;

He was my imoto,

I was his one san.

Assignation

Cool, dark air pours down like silent balm;

Silken brush of velvet wings

Rhythmic thrum

(Unheard yet felt),

Rush overhead,

Alighting in my tree.

A pale shadow

Obscured in analeptic gloom,

Vigilant, I pause;

Soundless, she wings down

Under streetlamp nimbus,

Reveals herself to me.

Reverent, I gasp;

August, serene,

A silver owl

Luminous lakes,

Her eyes intimate sage awareness

Penetrating riddles that be

Unravelled not by human hearts.

Before I turn away

I humbly bend my knee.

Love is Strong not Weak

In the waiting room

I await

The ministrations of caring, overstretched people

As usual, I occupy myself

Observing other waiters.

I am fortunate today

A beautiful baby boy

Cradled in his daddy’s arms

Bright blue eyes

And glowing golden skin

Watching me as I watch him

Engaging everyone around him

Yet he never smiles or makes a sound

I cannot help but smile at him

I am quite captivated

I have no doubt this child is loved

All the while

His father is silent too

In spite of the attention

On his darling baby boy

His gaze is always on the floor

He believes in showing love

He appears weak

He does not understand

When he is loving his little boy

(I know he does, behind closed doors)

He is at his strongest

Marvelling over a translucent, pearly ear

Delighting in delicious, gurgling baby laughter

All his troubles fly away

He exists only in that perfect moment

There is no past to regret

And no future to fear

In that instant

All ills are cured

There is only love

Love is strong; not weak.

An Encounter with a Minute Marsupial

Yesterday morning, my beloved kitten Yuki caught an antechinus.  These tiny creatures are often mistaken for introduced rodents, but are actually a tiny marsupial.  They are commonly known as bush rats, but I dislike the name, because, of course they are in no way related to rodents.   

The chase continued on and off for hours, and the little antechinus continued to fight back (they are quite capable of giving a nasty nip, and once they get a hold of you, they are difficult to dislodge) and Yuki, still being a kitten was reticent about taking on his minute adversary. Finally an exhausted Yuki fell asleep.

I tried to catch the antechinus a few times, using a small blanket, but without success.  When I went to bed at 9:30 pm he was hiding under the washing machine (Yuki had taken up a station in front and was peering underneath), and I didn’t want to attempt to move it for fear of harming him/her.

I woke at 2 am and after pottering about for a while I had a sudden urge to clean out the linen cupboard.  I started removing the contents and was wiping down some shelves when a movement caught my eye.

I looked down to see the antechinus looking up at me from the bottom shelf with soft dark eyes. Cautiously, I put down my cloth and telling it I wasn’t going to hurt it.  As I bent down, it retreated to the back of the shelf, but as I slowly put my hand out, it came forward and climbed into my palm.

I carried it to the window and it waited on the sill while I slowly opened the window and showed it how to get out.  From there, it quickly disappeared.

Usually, I’m not given to cleaning out cupboards in the middle of the night, and I believe it was my intuition led me there.  I was very touched by the look of trust in those beautiful, shining eyes.  It’s an experience I’m unlikely to forget.

 Photograph courtesy of Glen Fergus, Tweed Valley, NSW

What is Karma?

I posted my definition of karma in response to discussion generated by my comments about suicide: if I encounter the same problem over and over, there’s a lesson to be learned.  I don’t see karmic events as punishment for past life mistakes, but as challenges which facilitate development.

A forum member replied, “Your definition of karma is astounding.  Lately I’ve been asking myself what karma is and your definition seems like a message for me.  In light of it, how would you account for the suffering of  a child who loses a parent or experiences abuse? Aren't they too young to know right from wrong?”

My answer follows:

I experienced some fairly severe child abuse, so I’ll speak from my own understanding here.  I could say “I believe”, but in fact, I know: we set up the conditions of this life prior to entering our bodies.  We choose our parents in advance and set up challenges to be solved.  This, however, does not mean our lives are entirely predestined. Within the conditions we set, there are infinite possibilities.  It may seem strange, but I found the idea that I'd chosen my parents immensely comforting.  There’s a world of difference between choosing something, and having it thrust upon you. 

The reasons for these choices will vary, but some souls choose to take a giant leap forward in one lifetime.  Suffering and (more importantly) what’s learnt from suffering is one way to do this.  I’ve learnt a lot about empathy and compassion.  Some people hear a story of despair, and ask, “Why don’t you pull yourself together?”  Someone who’s been there knows: if that was possible the person would have done it.  They will have a deeper understanding.

I hope I don’t confuse you when I say karma can also play a role here.  However, once again, the soul chooses to work out karma in this way.  These connections are often extremely intimate.   Your mother in this life may have been your child in another.  These choices are made “before” incarnation.  “Where two or more people are involved (in any event at all), appointments are being made in Framework two” (Seth; words in parentheses are mine).  Framework two is the mental realm and, in fact, far more real than the physical realm, which Seth refers to as Framework one. 

On the other hand, I don’t condone violence of any kind.  The rule of choice always applies.  I realised this when I had my own daughter.  Society tells us violence is a cycle and abused children become abusive parents – a terrifying prospect for me until I realised this was a lie.  I had choices and exercised them the best I could.  In spite of my history, I chose peaceful ways of negotiating parenting with my daughter.  Hopefully, we’ve broken the cycle forever.

There is another element at play here:  although life and its struggles seem very real to us, the truth is we’re involved in a “passion play”.  Think of Shakespeare’s words:

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts…

(from “As You Like it”)

While we attach great importance to our experience in the physical, the reality is no matter how awful things may seem, the “essential me (or you) can never be harmed.  It is immortal and inviolable without exception.  It is this knowledge that makes some people so strong in the face of adversity – those who survive unspeakable horrors such as concentration camps, and are still able to love and live are in touch with the source of their being.  In fact, the knowledge usually grows out of the experience.

It’s also helpful to know that while we act out our parts on the stage during the day, we get to go home every night, in our dreams.  I suggest making a practice of writing down your dreams.  This helps you recall them.  You may also give yourself suggestions before sleep to have certain kinds of dreams, and tell yourself you’ll remember them.  Afternoon naps can be very conducive to dreaming.  I often remember day time dreams much better, as the boundaries between sleeping and waking (these are really artificial anyway) are much less pronounced.

I hope I’ve answered your question.  However, while I can share knowledge with you, what I can’t give you is experience.  It’s one thing to believe what we’re told and quite another to know it through practical application.  If there’s one author I’d recommend to anyone interested in growth, knowledge and experience, it’s Seth/Jane Roberts.

Seth/Jane’s books contain exercises (122 in all) designed to develop your abilities and help you find out for yourself what life is really all about.  They aren’t the easiest books to read, to begin with, but if you persevere you become accustomed to the style and the new forms of information provided.  In performing the exercises you will see results very quickly; usually within a couple of weeks.

Please, feel free to ask me anything,

Love Chanson

What Happens when Someone Suicides?

A friend of mine committed suicide several years ago. Beforehand, he would often visit me and talk about how he thought there was "nothing" after death. I always said to him, "No, David, there is no death. You live on. You can't escape your problems by killing yourself". I didn’t consciously realise what he was going to do, but I think I was aware of it on a soul level, and tried to instruct him in what to expect.  A couple of months after his suicide, I had a psychic reading (an unusual thing for me, as I usually do my own).

The reading was done over the phone with a woman I had never met, who lived 500 km from me. There was no way she could possibly have known anything about me other than my name. To begin she drew a few cards and said a couple of things I’ve now forgotten. Then, she suddenly paused and said, “I’m getting a name; does the name David mean anything to you?” Of course I said yes and, overwhelmed with emotion, explained about my friend.

She told me David was with her, and wanted to give me a message. The message was, “Thank you, thank you, for being such a wonderful friend”. “Thank you so much! I really needed to hear that”, I told Betty. I asked if David was alright, and she said yes, he wanted me to know he was OK, and that he was also saying, “You were right. Death is NOT the end”.

There were other messages too, such as, “Thanks for the flowers”, which I watered every day while thinking of him. I’ve never had flowers that grew like that, before or since. It was an incredible display.  There is no way Betty could possibly have known about that.

Photo courtesy of Luc Viatour


I thanked Betty for the messages, telling her how much it meant to me, and she replied, “No Jane, I’m picking him up through you. You are extremely psychic, and David has been with you since he died, because you are the only one who can hear him".

I had often felt him around (I still do), and heard him speaking to me in my mind. One night I even felt him touch my hand. This experience changed my life in many ways and there is one thing I now know absolutely: while suicide may not be the ideal solution to a problem, there is never any punishment for it.  It does not generate negative karma, as many people believe.  The person who suicides is treated no differently to anyone else, except that there may be a healing after transition. 

David, who had been so miserable, is now happy and healed.  I know it helps people to have some understanding of where they’re going after transition.  Otherwise, they just start to project their beliefs, which, once we’re out of the body, manifest instantaneously. That’s why David wanted to thank me: I’d given him some idea of what to expect once he had transitioned and realised death was not “nothing".

On the other hand, it’s those left behind who suffer, and many go on to suicide themselves.  I will never forget seeing David’s grandchildren at his funeral (he was a very young grandfather). Watching as tears poured down his two year old grandson’s cheeks was heart wrenching.  I know most people would say this little boy was too young to understand what was happening, but it was obvious he was absolutely devastated. 

I just want to be clear here:  I’m not an advocate for suicide.  It causes great pain and confusion for “survivors”, and for that reason, it’s not a choice I’d recommend. 

I originally wrote this message (somewhat altered here) as a response to a question in an online forum.  I've posted it here in the hope it may be of assistance to others.

Your comments, as always, are most welcome.

Love Chanson.

Peeking in Closer to Home: Life in a Convict Settlement

I had this experience about a year ago, but I've thought of it often since.

I find myself mounted on a horse, giving advice to a group of fifteen to twenty convicts and colonists.  I’m telling the colonists how to keep the convicts in line (most convicts actually worked as servants, labourers and field hands, and were not kept in prisons), but the speech is also directed at the convicts.   I remember saying, “The only alternative is a Godless, criminal life outside the bounds of society, and I would not advise it”. 

On waking I was actually whispering the words, “I would not advise it”, although during the experience, I was saying them with great vehemence.  As I speak, I’m picturing the barren deserts of this vast continent, though I feel I’m in Port Macquarie.  Port Macquarie was a brutal convict settlement; often convicts were sent here because they were critical of the government.  Many of them were educated and literate. 

Here is St Thomas' Anglican church, Port Macquarie.  It was "...built by convict labour, under military supervision"  and still stands today (Port Macquarie-Hastings Council  May 2007).  The painting is by English artist Joseph Backler and dates from 1832-42 (Wikipedia May 2013).

In this life, I have radical political views.  In my life in convict Port Macquarie, I was extremely conservative and regimented.  I believed convicts deserved their fate and gave no consideration to the factors which drive people to crime, such as poverty and justifiable discontent with political regimes.  In other words, I was a harsh and cruel man, but I also understand I was very much a product of the social mores of the Victorian era.

On the other hand, this man (I’ve come to know him as “the Sergeant”) had a lot of good qualities: he had a strong work ethic, was extremely disciplined; had great physical energy, a zest for life and a love for the natural world - qualities I would love to nurture in myself.

Seth tells us that the knowledge and energy of our reincarnational selves (or aspects) is available to us at all times (you can read about this here: Seth on simultaneous incarnation but you will have to request membership as it's a closed group).  This may seem a strange idea to someone not familiar with the material, but a friend tells me she often uses her aspects' energy to help her through tasks she doesn’t enjoy, such as cooking.

I decided to give this a try when I was out walking last week.   I simply asked the Sergeant to give me his energy and enthusiasm for the outdoors.  Within moments, I found myself marching along, swinging my arms (not my usual mode, I can tell you) and enjoying the scenery, not thinking about my tired legs or aching back; in fact, I felt no pain at all. 

This result was really exciting and over the next few days, I started to expand on it.  What if, I wondered, somewhere there are aspects of me who have all the qualities I lack?  Not only that, but what if there are aspects of me who are better schooled in the areas where I already have talent?  And, what if there’s an aspect of me who isn’t sick? 

This idea evolved into: what if there’s a probable version of me who never got SLE?  OK, I admit, this last one may take some work, but I’ve been working with these ideas through the week, and the results are remarkable.   I definitely have less pain; I was able to finish my Christmas shopping by calling on the part of me who is excited by the hustle and bustle of crowds; I’m writing again (something I’ve neglected the past couple of weeks); I’m able to tap into energy when I need it and everywhere I go I meet smiling faces.

Returning to my story, on waking, I was aware of a presence in the room.  I could see something moving, and the shapes around me distorting.  There was a light coming from somewhere.  My cat was asleep on the bed but didn’t appear bothered.  I turned the light on, and she woke and seemed to be having a good look around, but soon settled back down to sleep.

I recently watched an interview with a member of Jane’s ESP class.  He’d had a similar experience (also concerning a military man).  Seth asked if he’d been aware of the soldier looking back at him.  I’m inclined to believe it was the Sergeant in my room when I awoke.  While I was peeking in on him, he was peeking in on me, considering my life and comparing it to his. 

There is a past life therapist who suggests we talk to the aspects of ourselves we’ve contacted, making suggestions and helping them grow.  I’ve experimented with this idea and I do believe the Sergeant is changing; softening his attitude towards the convicts and developing some understanding of their plight.  It seems only fair to give him something, since he’s giving so much to me.

A couple of weeks ago, I shared the inner senses exercise with a good friend, although I had little expectation of a result (when I’ve shared in the past, the person has simply forgotten, or had no success).  A few days later, I asked her if she’d tried the exercise and to my surprise, she immediately replied, “Yes!  I think I was a convict”, in Port Macquarie.  

She spoke about the connection she’s always felt with this place – a sense we both share.  Of course, I wondered if we’d known each other in that life too.  We’ve been neighbours for years, and although we don’t have much in common, we’ve become good friends.  I’ve always known she’s a person of strong principles; someone I could trust.

I believe we knew each other in that other life and perhaps in other incarnations as well.   “Your lives are more intertwined than you know”, I was told recently (I’ll expand more on the source of this quote later).  The adventure continues!

As always, your comments are comments are welcome - I'm very much interested in other people's views and experiences.

Love Chanson.