The aw­ful an­swer

Raym’s client searches for the cause of her deep and ir­ra­tional despair and opens a win­dow through time into a sur­pris­ing re­al­ity.

Living Now - - Editorial - by Raym Richards

Raym’s client searches for the cause of her deep and ir­ra­tional despair and opens a win­dow through time into a sur­pris­ing re­al­ity.

Iam walk­ing next to my client Sharon on her way to work. It is a bright and sparkly blue-sky morn­ing and it feels like spring, although the leaves on the few trees around us ap­pear to have a golden tinge. It has been rain­ing overnight and the city feels fresh, washed clean.

Ev­ery­thing seems per­fect and Sharon is happy. We are in a big and busy city, the cars drive on the right and peo­ple are well dressed. Apart from the odd beg­gar it feels like an af­flu­ent, clean place. She is walk­ing to work in one of the many of­fice build­ings around us.

Why am I here? This does not make any sense; it all feels too modern to be a past life. I feel like I am mak­ing this up… Sharon telepaths, re­sist­ing her ex­pe­ri­ence. Please let's just al­low things to un­fold. I sense Sharon’s frus­tra­tion. This is new for her and she is ex­pect­ing to ex­pe­ri­ence some kind of past life re­call. There are many con­tra­dic­tions in her jour­ney so far, which I too am ex­pect­ing to be a re­lease of past life trauma. But it is play­ing out as some­thing else, some­thing quite ex­tra­or­di­nary. The whole ex­pe­ri­ence has a bright, slightly dis­torted hal­lu­cino­genic feel.

I fol­low Sharon through what ap­pears to be a fairly rou­tine and mun­dane start to her day at work. She greets her co-work­ers as she en­ters the lobby of the tall build­ing with its curved bal­cony and tall, el­e­gant, al­most Is­lamic win­dows. Head­ing to­wards the el­e­va­tor, I start to re­ally pay at­ten­tion to her sur­round­ings, which are both out of time and yet strangely fa­mil­iar.

Through the win­dows I no­tice a type of car that I recog­nise and tun­ing into her sur­round­ings I hear peo­ple speak­ing an ac­cented, ver­nac­u­lar English, but the sound­scape is not clear. She ap­pears to be close to our present time but the com­puter screens and mo­bile phones look too chunky – al­most steam­punk by to­day’s stan­dards. Peo­ple’s clothes and hair­styles are slightly off. Could we be in a par­al­lel re­al­ity?

The aw­ful an­swer to my ques­tion will be­come ap­par­ent in the next few min­utes…

Sharon has come to see me about the ir­ra­tional despair she has ex­pe­ri­enced for the last 15 or so years, as she can­not quite place when it started. Her de­pres­sion has not re­sponded to any other form of treat­ment and there ap­pears to be noth­ing in her present life that trig­gered it. In des­per­a­tion she has come to see me to ex­pe­ri­ence a shamanic jour­ney to seek the truth of what trig­gered her despair, which I ex­pect to find in another time and place.

In our in­ter­view prior to the ses­sion she ex­pressed what ap­peared to be a gen­uine open mind­ed­ness in seek­ing the truth of the cause of her de­pres­sion, but things are not go­ing as she ex­pected. She seems to be ex­pe­ri­enc­ing a very gen­uine ‘re­call’ of a past life that can­not pos­si­bly be true. It is hap­pen­ing too close to this time for her to be there as a grown woman. Her in­abil­ity to deal with the lack of log­i­cal ex­pla­na­tion is pre­vent­ing her from ex­pe­ri­enc­ing all her jour­ney has to of­fer.

Please just see this through. Ex­pe­ri­ence what your body is show­ing us. The an­swer is here. I know it is.

Okay. I am here - so I may as well. She sighs and as she sur­ren­ders to the process we con­tinue to ex­pe­ri­ence her life as this happy but or­di­nary woman at the start of her day with much greater clar­ity.

We wit­ness her take her place at her cu­bi­cle, high up in the tower that over­looks the wa­ter and the sprawl­ing city be­neath her. An early starter, she is the first to her desk. Col­leagues ar­rive and she is set­tling into her day, when her rou­tine is shat­tered.

We hear a loud ex­plo­sion out­side and the few col­leges who are on her floor start pointing behind her and rush­ing to that side of the build­ing. She turns to see a sim­i­lar tower close to hers on fire. No­body knows what is hap­pen­ing and she looks for her su­per­vi­sor. Then, all the phones start ring­ing at once.

She looks out at the un­be­liev­able scene un­fold­ing be­low her.

“I saw it. A plane hit it – what a ter­ri­ble ac­ci­dent. Poor souls.” Her col­league tears up look­ing at peo­ple leap­ing to their death to avoid the flames en­gulf­ing the higher lev­els of tall tower next to hers.

Her su­per­vi­sor tells every­one to stay put but then shortly after­wards the PA

ad­vises im­me­di­ate evac­u­a­tion and try­ing not to panic, she joins the ten thou­sand other of­fice work­ers try­ing to leave the build­ing rapidly by the stairs. I re­alise where we are and I know she has just min­utes to live.

This is bull­shit. I CAN’T be here, it makes no sense! Sharon has re­alised where she is too.

There is vi­o­lent jolt and the build­ing rocks wildly as win­dows are blown out and the sec­ond plane hits sev­eral floors be­low us. We are en­veloped in in­tense heat and suf­fo­cat­ing smoke.

WHAT? There can­not be another ac­ci­dent! Who would do this? What is hap­pen­ing? WHY? My fam­ily, my boys…

She dies an ag­o­nis­ing death try­ing to es­cape up­wards, fully aware that there is no way out, des­per­ate for just a few more breaths of air and a few more mo­ments of life. She de­spairs, yearn­ing to be with her fam­ily. The emo­tional pain of her death is ex­cru­ci­at­ing.

Sharon, we must step out of this trauma into no time-space so that we can clear it.

How can I be in two places at once? I have never been to New York.

Your higher self can ex­pe­ri­ence more than one in­car­na­tion si­mul­ta­ne­ously. Nor­mally we do not make any con­tact with our­selves, there is no need, but this is an ex­cep­tional case. Your higher self has cre­ated this op­por­tu­nity to clear this trauma, you can choose not to if you wish. If you pre­fer, you can wait to rein­car­nate to clear it, ex­pe­ri­enc­ing a sim­i­lar trauma, in some form, to trig­ger its re­lease in this life or the next. Or you can clear it now.

I can see she is still hav­ing dif­fi­culty com­pre­hend­ing the truth of her ‘ im­pos­si­ble’ ex­pe­ri­ence. It is a lot to ab­sorb in just a few min­utes.

When did you say your de­pres­sion started? 15, maybe 16 years ago, around 2001?

The im­pact of my ques­tion sinks in and Sharon takes a mo­ment to digest its im­pli­ca­tions. Then she starts cry­ing, al­low­ing her­self to fully feel the pain of her par­al­lel self’s death.

I was happy. I had a good, sim­ple life… my chil­dren. This pain is so in­tense. What do I have to do to clear it?

In or­der to be free of this trauma and the despair you have been ex­pe­ri­enc­ing for the past 16 years, you must call on the per­pe­tra­tors of this aw­ful act and for­give them.

I give her time to col­lect her thoughts and feel­ings and be ready to for­give. The peo­ple who will step for­ward when she calls them will not be the ones she ex­pects. But that is another story… n

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