A Collection of Mystical Experiences
In this section I want to include people’s spiritual stories, so if you have an extraordinary experience, please let me know.
”Earth Mother”
Adrienne from Canada.
Within a six month period my mother died and then my father died. The day after my father’s death my husband announced that he wanted a divorce! I was in the deepest, darkest place one could imagine; full of pain and despair! I had just lost the three people in the world that I loved the most!
Let me explain here that prior to this terrible period I had been taught by a gifted healer on how to send healing to the earth and I had been practicing this 2-3 times a week. So it was at this vital point that I experienced Gaia, the earth mother.
She came to me singing her song, dressed in etheric light of calmness and peace and as the Earth herself responded to my pain, I realized that there is so much more to this universe than what we have been taught.
She is always with me now and I think of her whenever the earth is experiencing upheavals, like earthquakes. I often send her love and healing because her love helped to heal me of my grief and pain.
All Pervading Intelligence
Lyn from Australia
It was as I read the words ‘formless intelligence’ that suddenly I began to understand what I have been trying to grasp for over 40 years; that there is a formless intelligence surrounding all of us! That we live inside this intelligence even as IT permeates our world. I knew without question that this ‘thinking stuff’ packs into and around every nook and cranny of our lives.
Slowly I became aware of something I feel I had always known but had never consciously recognised; it is this All Pervading Intelligence that is the living energy constantly creating us!
Full of wonder I tried to contact this Intelligence, interfacing with it, touching it with my imagination, attempting to imprint an imagined successful film-script into the mass of energy being created by this formless intelligence. As I formed this image I began to slip into an altered state of consciousness. My breathing deepened and the feelings in my solar plexus became electric. Slowly I became aware of a huge intelligence filling the air around me. It was real. It was alive. It was all pervading. As I recognised the aliveness of this Intelligence, joy washed through me in waves lifting me to a new level of passion and wonder. It was exquisite, and the aftermath of this electrifying experience lasted for days as I walked around feeling a constant pressure between my shoulder blades. It was so powerful and so exquisite that I tried not to lean back in chairs in case I squashed the energy.
Slowly over time the physical changes to my body subsided, but my understanding of the Eternal Mind has continued to develop. At any time I can become aware of this Intelligence, and immediately my heart opens and I am filled with reverence.
The book that stimulated this ‘awakening’ was a written in the early 1900s by Wallace Wattle. Called ‘The Science of Getting Rich’ this booklet is freely available on the Internet.
Lyn Willmott 2001
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1991
The Lady at the Top of the Tunnel.
The phone call was from my best friend who had, two days earlier, rearranged our lives by inviting my partner (the father of my child) to become her lover. Apparently she called me to chat about the miracle of their compatibility.
I was dumbfounded. It seemed that although my partner now lived with her, she was expecting to continue our friendship! Did she not realise this act of betrayal had not only shattered all trust, it had snatched away my close relationship with them both? How could she be so unaware of my despair? The shock of that phone call twisted my hurt into uncontrollable hatred.
Ferociously slamming the phone down in the middle of my friend’s gushing, I wobbled into the bedroom and collapsed. The red madness of my fury whirled me into chaos. Violence had always been an abomination so I was horrified by what I was feeling. Aware that my sixteen-year-old son was witnessing this drama I tried to suppress the turmoil. I assured him I’d be OK, that I just needed a few minutes rest before driving him down to his job at the windsurf shop on the beach.
There was a chasm of silence as I tried to stop the pain. I was in the calm centre of an emotional cyclone but I felt that at any moment I would tear apart. Nevertheless I fumbled my way to the car and drove carefully down South Road. At times I was unable to see because of the pain in my head but we reached the beach safely and I remember telling my son he’d have to hitch a lift home with someone else because I felt too ill to pick him up.
The story needs to be momentarily interrupted here to explain that for years I had noticed an odd internal structure - shaped like a tunnel - inside my head. You may think it surprising that I did not explore this phenomenon more thoroughly but the whole structure existed just below my normal awareness allowing me to accept that this inner passageway was simply a part of consciousness. In retrospect this may seem odd, but I believe we all have these odd flights of consciousness swirling through our minds. Trust me when I say we are not who we think we are!
Anyway, I found my way back to my house, and struggling onto my bed I became crushed inside the worst headache I had ever experienced, vomiting, moaning, completely beyond all rational thought, feeling as though I was nothing more than a trembling blob of putrid red anger. There were images of knives spinning within the bounds of my imagination. I held them high in each hand wanting to stab and stab and stab. It was a terrible waking dream. The hatred in my throat, and my need to scream obscenities at the world was unbearable and although this vision of destruction was beyond my comprehension, all I wanted was to kill them both.
Somehow I found myself on my back, for the first time staring up intently into the enigma of my tunnel. I could see the familiar outline of the cloaked figure standing passively at the top and her detachment was outrageous! How could she simply stand there witnessing my suffering?
“For Christ sake, don’t just stand there!” I was crying with frustration, and glaring up into the tunnel I screamed silently, “If you are of any f****** use at all… help me! Help me….please!”
There was another aching silence in the room. Laying there staring up at a Madonna-like figure at the top of the tunnel, my mind was a vacuum; all I was feeling was pain.
Then unprepared, and in utter astonishment I realised the figure at the top of the tunnel had begun to move. I was not doing this, she was moving on her own! Imperceptible at first, but I saw the rippling shift of her cloak. She was coming! This ethereal Being was gliding down the tunnel towards me. I was overwhelmed! I simply watched in stunned disbelief, hardly daring to breathe. Then she stopped at a jumble of brightly patterned floor cushions piled in the centre of the tunnel, blocking her path. With gentle precession the cloaked lady picked up each large cushion and patted it back into the wall of the tunnel. As she did this, miraculously I felt both my murderous rage and my blinding headache vanish. Carefully she replaced each cushion and after the blockage had been dealt with the lady in the dark cloak continued towards me. By this time I was melting with the glory of what had happened. I longed to reach out and be cradled by her but she disappeared into the wash of my tears.
I don’t know how long I lay there sobbing with gratitude and amazement, but slowly I felt a softness flooding through me. Some type of miracle had just taken place, something beyond anything I could understand.
I lay lightly on the bed feeling completely loved.
Later, after a quick shower, I grabbed an apple and my sun-hat, returning to the beach, where my son found me jogging enthusiastically along the shore-line, spirits high with no sign what-so-ever of my previous malaise. This change was never mentioned, probably because as with most teen age sons, he simply accepted the oddities of his mother - but for weeks after I privately noted down every movement, every symbol of that event, attempting to piece together some sort of meaning for myself.
In fantasy I talked with the young woman hidden within that mythic cloak. She reported that as she patted the soft blocks back into the tunnel wall an electric charge shimmered along the whole structure. The cushion blocks had been fitted back where they belonged, allowing the tunnel to return to its most potent vitality. Of course this was exactly what I felt physically. The turmoil ceased, the blockage had been removed, and my life was again entrusted into the care of my sad little ego. Did the large cushions symbolize that puffed-up barrier of monstrous rage? Did the cushions show how this anger was completely disabling my journey? Did the tunnel represent my life’s journey? In all cases the reply was yes.
Then there was the question of the cloaked figure. She was much more than a metaphor because her actions brought about a physical change in me. So did this indicate that there is an overlapping reality parallel/inside the reality I call normal? And if so then exactly who was she; my higher self, an angel or a vivid imagined event?
Often in those days I would feel a thin membrane, like rubber latex stretching over my chattering mind. This gabble never stops, Sometimes I would have flashes where I could actually feel the separation between my thoughts and a greater consciousness. I imaged that set into this wafer thin divide is copied all our experiences, beliefs, primitive urges, emotions, thoughts, and memories. Perhaps once this divide (or veil) has been removed, contact with our larger conscious state is made. Perhaps I saw/see that divide as a tunnel. Others might see it as something else. Perhaps the cloaked lady helped restore the tunnel so I could function again Whatever mysterious action lay hidden within that event, I realised that I was taking a journey through unknown territory; some other type of reality even though it was supposedly inside my head. When she replaced those symbolic cushions, snuffing out my violence and hatred, she was also reopening my energy conduit, freeing it of a most primitive human disturbance, allowing my life’s journey to continue.
Although I’m speaking in past tense - because it all happened a number of years ago - my cloaked lady continues to stand where she has always stood. That’s when I pay attention to her, although I must admit that now she stands within the aura of a much larger entity. The tunnel is still there but it may never be activated again.
This incident demonstrated how each of us, each human world, expands far beyond the boundaries of what we see and know. As I say, the tunnel experience revealed how parts of an unknown reality became integrated into this sphere of consciousness when I asked for help.
Upon reflection I have realised that a dangerous part of the evolutionary mind - that primitive, universal attack mechanism - can be activated by something as innocuous as that silly phone call. The violence it triggered skidded across my mind’s surface like a chain reaction, choking off energy, choking off rational thought and causing a monumental blockage. My hatred was just a fierce as any warlord rallying his troops so I know absolutely that the primitive ability to kill exists in me along side many other abilities. I know also that it is but a breath away and can be switched on in an instant. This ancient mind is in us all, and we need to be aware of its urgent power. Horrifically, my experience has hammered this awareness into me like a spike into a sponge. I have had to acknowledge that if such action is no more than flicker away from reaction, then killing is as much a genuine function as giving birth. Maybe all of us need to acknowledge this potency. Mostly it lays dormant yet it is part of our human condition.
The affair with’ the lady at the top of the tunnel’ has forced me to admit that symbolic happenings stand apart from normality. They are directed by something outside our known existence even though they are a vital part of our experience, and are part of who we are. The tunnel event caused me to reach beyond the fulcrum of what was then my belief structure, helping me to recognise that there are unfathomable processes (miracles to our limited minds) underpinning our existence. The deeper I investigated, the more unfathomable ‘life’ became. It seemed as though I was being shown that we live within a tiny section of our consciousness, and because of our lack of awareness we seldom question these restrictions. Labeled normality, this limited realm prevents us from knowing ourselves as we really are. We may question, debate and argue; but while we stay within the limits of rational thought we will remain separated, believing we are alone. This is wrong. We are not alone!
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9/11
Lyn Willmott
Like so many other Australians on that traumatic night in September 2001 I sat in front of the television unable to comprehend what I was watching. One of the World Trade Centre Towers was collapsing; how could this be happening? Around 11.30 pm I shuffled off to bed struggling to make sense of the horrific images filling the world’s television screens.
It seemed like a bizarre movie. How could it be real? Yet people were dying!
I could not sleep, aware that on the other side of the world this tragedy was still being played out. Twice more I got up, attempting to watch the catastrophe, but I could not witness the panic and terrible death.
Going back into my darkened bedroom I lay staring up at the ceiling weighed down by revulsion. How could human beings do this to other humans? Somehow I needed to help so in my mind’s eye I began to try to ‘see’ into the chaos. I did not really understand what I was doing, but I felt compelled to act. I had read about the Remote Viewing experiments and although I doubted their validity that night I was so shattered by the pictures flooding in from New York that I consciously stared out into the darkness of my room trying to ‘see’ what was happening.
Suddenly I felt a strange confusion in my mind. There seemed to be a massive background of static electricity swirling in my head. It was so blinding I could not comprehend what I was looking at, then cutting across this bewilderment I realised I was looking at large rain drops … going up. My head was chaotic. I could not make sense out of what I was seeing. What were these greyish-white images, shaped like large rain drops? And why were they streaming upwards? It made no sense.
I continued to watch as the image became clearer. Then realisation smashed through my muddled mind. I knew what I was seeing. They weren’t victims at all! They had been released at death and were going home.
That mysterious, mystical sight will remain one of the most important images of my life. Seven years later it is still branded into my consciousness and the wonder of it will never to be forgotten. When I started my crazy effort to help I had been overwhelmed by the fear of what was happening in those stricken towers, but these shimmering images I was seeing; these silvery-grey outlines lifting upwards like elongated rain drops, told a different story. There was no fear here. I saw hundreds and hundreds of expanded silver grey shapes rising upward and I knew that none of them needed any help. They were safe, they were alright, their bodies may have just died, but they were alive. They were going home.
Looking back, I realise that experience was a very special confirmation that we are much more than a body, and once the body dies there are other living realities to which we return. As I watched those people streaming upwards, leaving their mangled bodies behind, I understood completely. It was as if the images themselves were part of our collective unconsciousness; that beneath the chatter of our lives we have deeper, more sacred knowledge of who we are. It’s a shared knowledge and I was privileged to experience a little of it on September the 11th
Posted by Lyn on October 23rd, 2008 :: Filed under Creative Writing
June 3rd, 2009
Re: The Lady at the Top of the Tunnel
I, too, had an interesting experience during a period of my life when I was going through severe trauma, losing three people I loved the most. Instead of seeing a lady in a tunnel, I experienced Gaia, the earth mother, and she came to me singing her song, dressed in etheric light of calmness and peace. She is always with me, and I think of her whenever the earth is experiencing upheavals, like earthquakes. I often send her love and healing because her love helped to heal me of my grief and pain.
September 17th, 2010
Story of an unusual retrieval follows. My mother had died several months before this retrieval took place and I was unaware of her passing on. She had received a pacemaker a year before this happened and so I thought she had more years to live, but the pacemaker only gave her a few months borrowed time.
I always thought since she was in her mid 80’s and at that time lived with me, that I would be the one assisting her transition to the other side. As it was she was living in another state at the time of her passing with her other children. At the time we parted I had left her with my sister, and reached for a hug to say goodbye. My spirit grandmother, Nanny had informed me mother would be happier with her other children, while I was the loner child, sort of a black sheep.
She had refused to hug me back and I remember how that felt. It felt bad. I knew it would be the last time I would see her and it would have been great to leave in love.
One night I had this feeling I was in another location, a real location, but not a physical, or material location. A place perhaps we can call the astral realm, an energetic place which resembled the earth plane but of a finer type of energy. It looked like New York City during rush hour, but there were no cars. Crowds of people walking on the sidewalks. It became apparent I had an apartment here in this city, that I’d never been to as in physical.
I was right in the middle of the city geographically speaking. There were stone steps leading up to my apartment building. I stood on them now and surveyed all the people rushing by. I wondered where they were going in such a rush? Then I saw this little white head bobbing along in the crowd. It was my mother! For heavens sake what was she doing here I wondered.
She appeared lost and confused. I saw her stop to ask a passerby where she could find her daughter. Another man directed her to an information booth where new arrivals can find their destinations. He seemed most kind, but she shook her head, no, I must find my daughter by myself she said. She always did have a will of her own.
“Mother!” I called out excitedly. Mother! I’m over here! Come in!” Mother is only 5′2″ but I could see her eyes clearly as they lighted up in relief and happiness to have found me in this huge place filled with people.
She must have a remote control device I thought off-handedly. We smiled at one another and I escorted her into my apartment. It seemed she had been traveling for quite some time and needed a place to rest. I remember thinking good thing I’d rented this apartment in the city and occassionally I would bring travelers here, to rest, until they were fit for the journey once more.
Likewise, I have been in the hospitality business in real life. I realized this is a part of my nature. We went into a spacious, lightfilled room, sparse of furniture, it nonetheless felt good with all the light in the room. I felt an urgency to attend to mother. She was at once disoriented and counting on me for shelter.
I knew I had to go and get assistance for her, and I would not be allowed to remember how I did this once I woke up.
It involves going to another focus level of the spiritual planes. Evidently, we were now on the lowest sub plane of the astral territories, where retrievals take place.
It’s not the earth plane but a facimile of the earth plane, one step up. I knew all these people were what we call dead, but not really dead, just released from physical area.
I knew also that she was going to stay in my apartment for a time, I knew not the length of time in linear terms. I made sure she had all the comforts of home; food, a bed, and most importantly, her old sewing machine.
Something to keep her busy while she waited for the guide I would send to take her across the threshold, perhaps to focus 27, a higher level than this sub plane we were on.
The sewing machine just appeared from out of nowhere. I had thought it into place. She loved her sewing machine and sat down and began to sew. I was telling her this was her last service to life she had undertaken.
She had had a sewing business before she passed away.
She had a way of pleasing her customers. She would even sew a tent together, while knowing she was about to break about 20 needles in the attempt. They loved her. The whole town loved her.
I told her someone was going to come for her and take her on, and that I had to go now and tell them about her, that she was waiting here, but she would be content with her sewing machine to pass the time. She obediantly began to sew and this chased her blues away.
I was so happy to be able to take her off the streets, and it seemed she had forgiven me for having taken her to my sisters place a few years back. I really had planned on having her with me until she died, and would have kept her if I had not been told by Nanny where she would be most happy living her last years out.
Here we have two realities overlapping one another, both of them real. When I awoke the next morning I was still luxuriating in the feelings that our relationship had a type of closure that wasn’t expected, however, I did not consider that she had actually transitioned.
It was several months after this experience I was looking for the death certificate of my father and accidently came upon my mother’s death certificate online.
I noticed the date was several months before this experience happened. I was shocked to say the least. I concluded she must have been on a journey traveling through this sub plane looking where to go, what to do, and not knowing where she was for several linear time months.
She knew I performed retrievals, as I had tried to explain them to her while she was alive, however, like other people when you try to explain retrievals, she looked at me like I was a kook. To give her a little credit, she did remark that I was the smartest one of her kids, which for the black sheep of the family, it really tickled me pink!
For some of us who pass over, we can wander for a while in the sub plane of the astral closest to the earth. Some of us need gentle persuasion that transition has occurred or is occuring, where it finally hits you, oh, yes, so this is what death is like. That’s where a retriever comes in and can assist these to higher levels of planning and activity, to the park, and focus level 27.
It is not unusual to find a number of nonphysical beings still stuck in these levels after many years, not aware that Focus 27 exists. It is a dreamy like existence in that case where guides may come into the dream, however, the guides themselves do not seem real to the dreamer who wonders and wanders and they are lost in their thoughts of being separated from all that they knew.
Love bonds save us all from having to experience a disoriented world of the astral regions. However, it is not hell in the usual terms. It is a process of becoming enlightened to All That Is. Love is the insurance policy that will get us all home safely.