trueorfalse

.......At last we found a place on the border of Co.Wicklow and Carlow where we could see the mountains. It was close to what I remembered. My memory consisted of the side of a mountain which had panoramic views and sky expansiveness, not too far from Dublin city, so that we could have easy access to work and keep an eye on our stall in Grafton street.

This place was a far distance away, and the views consisted of a Mountain peak in the distance. But it was in a rural setting and at least I could see the mountains from the garden. It wasn�t "IT", but the nearest we had come to of my vision and still within our price bracket to rent. We would need to get-by on �a wing and a prayer�.

My best friend from Glasgow, Scotland was arriving for a holiday on the Friday morning we were due to move in. We arranged that we would go together and get the place sorted and settle in. My Daughter, Trish, had offered us the use of her car and we were looking forward to touring around and getting to know the Sacred Spots in our new neighbourhood.

My friend Chris, was due to arrive in the airport at 10 am. At 8.30 I rang the farmer whose house we were renting, to check that the keys were ready and he just said �the deals off, your deposit is in the post� and hung up.

I was devastated. My Daughter drove me to the Airport. I cried all the way. I felt my heart would break. I just couldn�t take any more. My health was suffering big-time. I was now down to 6 stone in weight and felt completely disconnected. I so badly needed to get away from the environment that I was existing in. The vibrational levels were denser and on a different level than what I was on. I started thinking on that drive to the Airport that maybe my vision was one of madness.

Maybe my N.D.E didn�t exist after all, it was just a bad bang on the head and if that N.D.E. wasn�t real, then that ment that none of my other N.D.E.S were real either and I had just spend a life-time believing in something that didn�t exist, wasn�t real and all my lifes work up to this point was just something I did along the way- not to �serve� after all but just some sort of ego-boost that I was unaware of..Maybe I was just crazy after all, like so many people thought I was already.

I worked to a different time clock than everyone else. I seemed to �merge� fully absorbed into whatever I was under-taking. I could �see� thought-forms and energy around people. Computers went haywire in my presence, electrical appliances broke down, watches had,nt worked on my wrist for years.

I hated loud noises, the beat of the rave music blasting through-out the flat complex, seemed to strike a discord in me, the same four beats over and over again. Maybe I was getting �uppity�, getting �above myself " , because I could no longer live with the sound and energy of voices raised in anger and violence and alcohol.

My mind started working overtime and I slipped into a depressive state of mind. I no longer felt that I had the energy to "hold on to" my Vision or the truth of my convictions. The "maybe/what if " clan moved in and comendered my mind.

Maybe the training sessions with my three Monk-Guides in my sleep were merely dreams.?

What if my �Truth-readings� ment nothing, just good guess work?

What if my healing powers didn�t really exist either?

Maybe people just saw me in crisis situations all over the world because they needed to project a safe image to help them through.

I was just fooling myself.
How could I write a book that anyone would want to read anyway?.
It has all been written, by people far more eloquent that me.

Why would anyone want to read a book by a working-class x-drug addict, her Life-after-Life experiences and their after-effects?.

When we arrived at the Airport, I was so engrossed in meeting my old "thought" friends, the What-ifs and Maybe that I missed Chris at the Arrivals lounge. Fighting off my old arch enemy Panic, I took a deep breath and sent out a request to my "grounding" and "finding" Angels when I heard my name being announced over the Airport intercom asking me to meet Chris at the lost and found.

I burst into tears and laughter, realising that my oldest best friend had indeed arrived and had brought her ever-accompanying sense of humor with her.

I was so weak that my daughter insisted on getting a wheelchair, I refused, through I did feel, within my confusion, so weak and fragil that I was so light I felt that people could see right through me..

Stumbling to-wards the lost and found............continue