Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Journeys of a Psychic: What happens on Encha stays on Encha. But did it?


Journeys of a Psychic: The Emotional Impact of writing about Past Lives

What happens on Encha stays on Encha. But did it?


" *I do not wish to retain these memories, these feelings within my being. It will surely torture me, driving me insane with regret and heartache and self blame. With what could have been.
I will forever go over the events of today, trying to see if there could have been a different way of doing it. A different way of destroying that Thing, without harming her.*
- We are acutely aware of this. That is why The Creator has given us this opportunity. What happened on Encha, should stay on Encha -
*Until I have the courage to face it again.*
- Until then - "




Excerpt: Chronicles of Han Storm: Taming Encha, Book 3:
      Frank ordered his men to stand their ground, but the thing with the grey-blue scales and lizard-like features was already strangling the life from my beloved.
      Before I could discern what I was doing, fury overtook me and my body was engulfed within blue flames as I gathered the Source Energy within sight of all who surrounded me, accumulating it into a huge, twirling ball in front of me.
      My gaze fell upon Ariel.
      Her eyes were glazing over, life draining from her as the monster stole her life-force.
      *Do it!* she screamed hysterically into my mind, the agony of her demise ripping through my own body, as if a Grox had hold of her. Yet I knew this was no Grox.
      I slammed the ball of energy into them, allowing it to disintegrate flesh and spirit into a miniature nuclear eruption without any adverse effects to those surrounding it.
      The physical was evaporated. The spiritual had been shattered back into pure energy, returning to become part of the Creator once more.
      A miniature crater of scorched earth was all that remained.
      Lowering my quivering arms, I closed my eyes not to physically behold the destruction that had been created within the super nova of energy particles.
      I realized all too painfully that Ariel was gone with the Rogue Lord, extinguished from existence by a single blast of Pure Source Energy.
      My body sagged to its knees . . .

      I stood apart from it, watching it emotionally falling apart as gun-shots rang out and the other cannibals were executed mercilessly on the spot.
      My features contained no emotion whatsoever.
      Panam gently pushed my body over into a reclining position, asking it questions it was not responding to.
      Alis tried to revive it, but it slipped into a comatose state.   
      "*Come, Han*" Duek gently herded my spirit to a light portal that was on hand to transport me to the waiting Reclamation Hall in the Higher Worlds of Encha.
      Duek released me into the care of my Light Guardian. He would stay with my body, hiding it from the other Lizards, the Rogues that will hopefully now become active because of one of their own being slain.

      I lay myself down on a bed provided within a new hospital wing Hulo had insisted be created within the Higher Worlds of Encha.
      Lord Grox was not on hand for the reclamation as was promised and I felt deceived.
      Sorrow, numbness, anaesthesia surrounded my spirit, as if it was saturated with events and could not soak up even one more emotion.
      Becoming aware of a huge Light Being at my feet, I knew I recognised this entity from somewhere.
      It presented itself in the outline of a Light Angel. It did not talk, or use telepathy, yet I understood it.
      It needed me to go with it before the reclamation started. All those involved were not yet present. They had been sent for but as I am aware of, it was tricky travelling through the Universal Communication Systems if one was not authorised.
      My Guardian pulled me up from the bed, surrounding me in its warm comfort, guiding me along passages that had not seen use in a very long time.
      We came to an ancient looking section, where doors were still solidly built and had padlocks for locks.
      In my numbed state, I did not become aware of any other entities hovering around and presumed that this area was totally abandoned.
      It looked very well preserved though.
      My Guardian stopped in front of one of these solid ancient doors. It was unlocked and the energy key had been left within the padlock. I knew that these locks could only be opened by the Key bearer and that there was only a single key to every door. If the key should go missing, no-one, not even the owner would ever be able to enter that locked room.
      Pushing the door open, my Guardian entered with me still enfolded in its embrace.
      A trunk, representing an energetic vault, stood in the middle of this room.
      - Here you are to place that which you do not wish to retain - my Light Guardian informed me.
      *Must I place the actual memories in there, or only the emotional turmoil?* I wanted to know from it.
      - Whichever you do not wish to retain -
      It released me in front of the trunk. I watched as it opened the heavy looking lid before taking a position behind the trunk, waiting for me to do whatever I wished.
      *Is this part of the reclamation?* I wanted to know.
      - No, it is for you, a gift from The Creator -
      *Would I be able to reclaim at a later stage that which I put in here?*
      - Of course. Whatever you place in here will automatically dissolve from the original recordings. Not even your Cosmic Recording will contain any of this which is held captive within this mausoleum. When you are ready to become all of yourself again, you will be guided back here, to reclaim that which is rightfully yours. And your Cosmic Recordings will become fully restored -
      Logic returned to my numbed spirit for a few seconds.
      *Why was Ariel so different, so absolutely special?* I asked my Guardian that seemed to know a lot more about things than it had ever revealed to me. Now that I could communicate with it, I was taking this one chance I currently had.
      - She was your Soul Mate, created to perfectly balance your opposing nature, rendering harmony within your soul -
      *And I had destroyed her. Made her one with The Creator again.*
      - Sometimes you have to sacrifice a part of yourself to render great service to The Creator-
      *I do not wish to retain these memories, these feelings within my being. It will surely torture me, driving me insane with regret and heartache and self blame. With what could have been.
      I will forever go over the events of today, trying to see if there could have been a different way of doing it. A different way of destroying that Thing, without harming her.*
      - We are acutely aware of this. That is why The Creator has given us this opportunity. What happened on Encha, should stay on Encha -
      *Until I have the courage to face it again.*
      - Until then -

- End of Excerpt -


Exclusive Excerpt: Chronicles of Han Storm: Last Book
(Journeys of a Psychic: The Emotional Impact of writing about Past Lives)
23 April 2011 Saturday 12h31pm
      Yesterday, Friday 22nd. Easter Friday. Holiday. Did almost nothing. Not feeling like going on, yet knowing will have to sometime. Ignored all prompts from the Universe to continue. Just want to stay in limbo for a bit.
      Woke up with stomach ache this morning. Thoroughly unhappy  because of it. Cannot even enjoy food any more. At least chocolate and coffee still do it for me. But not always. Body in bit of a pickle because of lack of magnesium in muscles. But then, not been out of the house for a while, stagnating in 'sleeping' very long stretches again. Not that it is something I advise people to do. It is just that there are other things that need my attention elsewhere.
      Anyway. Just upset this morning for not able to eat as I used to, not able to sleep. Not able to rest. Being constantly tired and irritated and knowing that it is not from here but my Cosmic Self that has become cynical in its seeing of the physical world, for nothing has changed within my lifespan since the creation of Creation.
      People are still people. They still want the bad with the good and the wonderful without having to take up the responsibility it brings.
      Nothing has changed. It just moves from universe to universe and you start all over again within the same teachings, the same principles, the same type of adventures. Good vs Evil. Good wins, Evil wins. What is new? Destroy, build up from the destruction. Live in peace for a few 100 years. Get bored. Go bad, destroy, build up again. Same old, same old.
      Totally ridiculous. Anyway. Just my viewpoint. Must remember that there are very young Soul-Spirits that also wish to endure, live and let live.
      And therefore they need the chance to have physical worlds that have these opportunities available. It is not my life that is precious here. It is the lives around me. My children, my husband that sees everything as miracles, that stands amazed at the simplistic complexities of everything that makes up physical life.
      Yet when I look at it. It is all the same. It comes from the same place. It goes back to the same place. Physical, spiritual, ethereal. All the same to me.
      Cynical [believing the worst of others, esp. that all acts are selfish]. Correct word to use. All is in the end only for the emotional gathering of the Self, is it not?

14h15pm: Made love to hubby. Quiet. Peaceful, Unattached.
      I am told that I should just go back to that part of Encha. Just do it, get it over with. Go within myself, disappear for a while and bring back the memories onto paper from so long ago.
      Trick is. The door is still locked and I am afraid that if I should open it, the gushing would be too intense to handle upon this plane of existence.
      I am told that I will actually be okay with it. That I should not worry, that I should just open the door and allow the memories the release from my heart they have been waiting for so long.
      Interesting thought that our emotions, our memories, our troubles sometimes long for release from us. For us to allow them to go in peace and forgiveness.
      So I stand in front of the door which holds the box to Encha's darkest memories. I turn the key, waiting for my husband to first bring me my coffee before I will advance inside to open the elusive box I have finally found within this locked room.

21h37pm: Advancing slowly, picking out the oldest memories within sequence, one at a time. Not advancing too fast for comfort, knowing that what is still to come is all very complex memories of good intermingled with bad, with evil, with still not comprehending after all the chronological 'time' after these happenings.
      Take it easy, allowing only one memory at a time to surface, to show itself, to be written for this World I now reside upon and within.
      Frequent breaks between work. Lots of coffee. Lots of sugar. I feel sick to my stomach, yet this body want food, but the Soul-Spirit does not.

22h39pm: I remember now, as I dig around, one frame of information at a time. The soldiers had a saying. What happens on Encha, stays on Encha. You did not take Encha home. You left her at the portal, carrying on with your life when you leave.
      I remember me and Ariel. I remember why Encha is so deeply buried. Was so undeniably locked up. It is because I lost my soul-mate on that planet. And not just in the physical sense of the word.
      Because of the Rogue Lizard, she was destroyed completely. He was vanquished.  Both were obliterated back into the base element of aether where one's soul became one again with The Creator.
      In the instant before death, I now know that she did it for me. She protected me, trying to keep me under the radar of the Lizard.

24April2011 Sunday 00h21am: No bed for me just yet. More memories being released, all started with one small trigger. I am crying again as the little details are being presented to me. How to give this out to this world? How so much heartache can be carried by one single being?
      The tears spill over my cheeks, gushing into my neck, collecting into my clothes. I take a handkerchief and weep into it, not loud enough for my husband to hear. Not loud enough for my children to wake up.
      Just a release of all the heartache that had been stashed within a dark, dank box.
      My husband stated that I am busy with a difficult bit, otherwise I would have been typing. Confirmed this. He will know when he reads this part of my previous life. I know now why I have hidden it so well, even from me, the grief is still shallow, digging through to this current life I am living at the moment.
      It is probably time to let this go as well. It is time to release and unveil that which had stayed behind on Encha. That which was never talked about, never mentioned once you left that place, locked up in a strong-box and hidden in a locked room so that you do not ever have to return to it.
      But now I have been ordered to and it is too hard to bear. My heart wants to break all anew, for that one single entity is part of everything now. No longer an individual. And it was not her choice. She did it for me. And I destroyed her. I destroyed her completely. How can one ever forgive oneself for that atrocity? How?
      I know that it was the only way.
      I have never revealed my feelings to anyone before. Not in the lifetime of Han Storm anyway. No-one ever discussed Encha after we've opened her up and destroyed the Lizards. No-one ever asked what happened that day.
      We all kept quiet, too afraid and too emotionally depleted to bring that negativity to the fore.
      And now I am paying for it. Hundreds of Thousands of years after the incident. I am paying for it. My family is paying for it, because I become not myself. I become someone else and I do not know if I am strong enough within this body to handle it.
      Feeling empty and depleted. Warn out by the responsibility to bring my lives to this World.
      Limbo.
      Protecting myself from the emotional overload.
      Limbo.
      I want to sleep, but sleep will bring only more detailed memories . . .
Ω

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