Tosia H Zraikat

Messages from the Spiritual Realms

I have fallen into a strange and personally meaningful reading pattern lately, quite by accident. I started by reading a novel about the Norman invasion of Britain in 1066, and because I like to know why things happen, I took up Richard Tarnas's brilliant 'The Passion of the Western Mind' (which had lain unopened on my shelves for some time) to read about Europe's ancient to Medieval history. I've also been studying about the early Medieval period through the Great Courses.

A few weeks ago, I had been reading (for the second time) the American medium Edgar Cayce's 'Story of the Origin and Destiny of Man.'

 

In the light of these readings and studies on ancient world history, what once might have seemed far-fetched is beginning to make real sense. I feel that I'm gaining a  much clearer and more accurate perspective on western history and its still evolving spiritual direction.

 

 

 

Despite many terrible reverses and losses, it seems that key elements of the spiritual knowledge, beliefs and traditions of different civilizations through time have been carried forth across the ages, and sometimes, revitalised, keeping alive what some have described as a "perennial philosophy", and this core set of spiritual and ethical principles is centred on the love, compassion, universal justice and brotherhood taught by great Masters and spiritual teachers through the ages.

Due to my  interest in the spiritism of Allen Kardec, I also recently ordered a copy of Brazilian medium Chico Xavier's, On the Way to the Light, thinking to read about spiritual practice, and was blown away  to find myself reading another book about humanity's spiritual history.

Now let me say for the record that I have read other books about our unknown history, and some about humanity's spiritual evolution, but most times, with a degree of skepticism. After all, anyone can claim anything, and physical evidence is notoriously malleable, open to different interpretations.  Consider how much disagreement there is about archaeological (ancient artifacts) and palentological (ancient bones) findings until one or another theory becomes (for a while) academic dogma.

Proving where humanity originated and how it existed in ancient prehistory is - so far - impossible. So I read Barbara Hand Clow's book on an ancient global trauma, Erik von Daniken's account of our galactic origins, and other theories of the human experience with many reservations.

Chico Xavier's book, on the other hand, is mighty persuasive, for what it says corresponds in many small details, as well as its overall theory of humanity's stellar origins and spiritual destiny, with the myths and religious esoteric teachings of the great civilizations of ancient India, Persia, Mesopotamia, Egypt, China, and (according to my reading) also of the Bible.

Moreover, the correspondences between the ancient histories of these civilizations and of humanity's spiritual history are too strong, in my opinion, to dismiss as wishful thinking. Besides, I find the book's assurance that we are, at all times, being guided and watched over by much wiser beings than ourselves very comforting.

 

Like Edgar Cayce's theories on ancient human prehistory and humanity's divine purpose, Xavier's were received through psychic means. Edgar Cayce went into trance to get his information, and his words were faithfully recorded at each session.  Chico Xavier transmitted his received messages through automatic writing, many of them coming from a spirit named Emmanuel. The book I am reading was received from Emmanuel by Mr. Xavier in 1938. Cayce was alive and active at that period, and Xavier knew of him, though it does not seem that Cayce knew of the Brazilian medium.

Once, I was extremely suspicious of medium's claims, and especially of what is called channeling. At best, I considered it to be communications from the medium's unconscious mind. At worst, totally fabricated, which I don't think is so difficult to do.

What made me first rethink my position on channeling were the Seth books, channeled (reluctantly at first) by Jane Roberts. They occupy a special place in my library. Then I came across the Cayce books, and after reading hundreds of his trance readings and many books derived from them, I was convinced of his authenticity.

More recently, I happened upon a book by the 19th century founder of the Spiritist 'movement', Allan Kardec. Not himself a medium, but an assiduous scholar of mediumship and spirit communications, he set high and highly ethical standards for these practices, through which he anticipated the flowing of renewed faith, hope and divine teachings into a troubled world.

The Spirits' Book, Kardec states (in his usual rather stiff style), was "written by the order and under the dictation of spirits of high degree, for the purpose of establishing the bases of a rational philosophy, free from the influence of prejudices and of preconceived notions. It contains nothing that is not the expression of their thought; nothing that has not been submitted to their approbation ..... "

"In the book you are to write," these spirits have told him, "we shall lay the foundation for the new edifice which is destined to unite all men in a common sentiment of love and charity."

 

I suspect that the time for humanity to know its true history approaches, which may account for the plethora of websites, blogs and books to be found on that topic, some worth reading, other just plain fanciful. Because I feel that such knowledge might help us recognise the stupidity of our racial, ethnic and religious antagonisms, and of our dangerous, destructive political and economic injustices, and help motivate us to seek new, just compassionate roads, I will write more about these channeled messages and their implications in future posts.

This is not a casual undertaking, for I am quite aware that my frequent references to a divine plan and divine agency could be taken as the spoutings of a fundamentalist religious zealot. They are not. I am not.

Spirits are real, and the Spiritual realm is real, just as real as the text that you are reading right now. Every day now, we hear of people receiving communications from discarnate spirits, or people returning from near death experiences and spirit encounters with messages of hope and divine love. And there are groups across the globe actively engaged in spirit communication through modern technology.

 

See 'Calling Earth' video:  https://vimeo.com/101171248

 

Let me start with the first paragraphs from the Spirit Emmanuel's channeled book.

"The traditions of the spirit world say that, in the governance of all the phenomena of our system, there is a Community of Pure spirits, chosen by the Supreme Lord of the Universe, whose hands hold the guiding reins of the live of all planetary collectives.

"From what we have been told, this Community - made up of perfected, angelic beings, of which Jesus is one of the divine members - has met in the vicinity of the earth only twice in the course of the known millennia to decide urgent issues pertaining to the organization and direction of our planet ...."

 

Sources:

Kardec, Allan. 2012. The Spirits' Book. Spastic Cat Press, U.S. Pg. 35

Xavier, Francisco by the Spirit Emmanuel (1939, 2011). On the Way to the Light: a History of Civilization in the Light of Spiritism. Federacao Esperita Brasileira, Brazil. Pg. 19.

Falling cot dream and story

Falling cot dream

I dreamed that I was at a desert oasis with friends, and went off to lie in a depression in the sand. All is very peaceful. Then a very big, heavy metal cot containing a big baby, which is nearby, lifts, and starts to tip over and fall on me, and I raise one arm to hold it off, still not ruffled, but find that the cot is too heavy.

Meanwhile, the baby flies out of the cot into the air, and I look at it anxiously, but it is actually laughing, and lands safely.

I call out to my friends, but no one hears, as they are deep in conversation. Yet I know they they will eventually notice my dilemma, so I lie there calmly, holding the cot from falling onto me. I am more concerned for the child's wellbeing, and also, a voice calls out to me three times, very clearly, 'Help Bill. Help Bill. Help Bill.' I wonder who Bill is, and wake up with that thought in mind.

 Later, I made a rough colour sketch of the dream, and also spontaneously wrote a story as a creative response to it (below), something that I often find helpful in getting to the underlying message of the dream.

 

On waking, I realised that the Bill my dream spoke of is probably a person I know only by email, an older man who has been struggling to get past some very disturbing psychic experiences from many years ago, and to find some inner peace. I have been listening (by email) - sometimes with irritation, for he does go on - to pages of his reminiscences and often chaotic reflections, and figure that maybe it's time to offer some thoughts, or at least, to encourage a more optimistic perspective. Tactfully and with much restraint, of course, because no one really knows what is in another person's soul, or what that person has come into this life to do.

 

Story based on 'Falling Cot' dream.

Many years before there was television, a young girl went into the desert with three friends, and after a long walk, they came to an oasis, a place where a natural spring bubbled up, and green plants could grow. There, they sat in the shade of trees and after eating their sandwiches and sweet purple grapes, they told each other about their dreams.

The girl loved to talk about her dreams, and to hear about others’ dreams, because she believed that the dream world really existed, and that those things that they saw and did in dreams really did happen. Her friends laughed at her about this, calling her - sweetly and with little hugs - naive and childish, which did not bother her in the least.

One friend, whose name was Alex, dreamed about a bed that he had slept in as a little child. He remembered that bed because it was made of silver, and very heavy. "In my dream", he said, "the bed carried me far way over the sea, and became a boat, and took me to a land of many foxes. That is all I remember", Alex said.

‘Oh, I love foxes!’ exclaimed the girl, "and there was one in my dream as well. I was standing on a mountain looking over the valley with my baby brother, and I noticed a little fox in the grass, gazing at us. My brother ran towards it, that kind of waddling run that he used to have when he was smaller, and he disappeared into the grasses with the fox. I was very upset, but I knew the fox wouldn’t hurt him". 

"Well", said another friend, whose name was Jenna, "I dreamed I was a crane, flying, and it was wonderful".

"I don’t remember my dream," said the other friend sadly.

So they sat, talking quietly among themselves. It was hot, and the girl lay in a little hollow in the sand where it was shady. After a while, she feel asleep.The girl awoke with a start, and saw her friends still talking. They had been dabbling their feet in the cool spring, and were standing beneath a tree in deep conversation.

All of a sudden, the girl saw a great silver cot falling out of the sky and called out, “Watch out! That’s your dream bed, Alex, about to fall on you!” Alex paid no attention, even when the bed just missed him, and fell onto the girl. But she was ready, and held it off, though it really was heavy.

Then the girl saw her baby brother falling from the sky, laughing as though he were on a playground ride, and he landed lightly on the grass. “Oh hello dear brother”, said the girl. “So, you’ve had enough of foxes for now”. “Look”, she called to her friends. “My brother has come back from the fox!” No one heard her.

Next, the girl saw a great white crane sailing across the sky, and it reminded her of her friend Jenna. “Jenna!” she called. “Come down and see us!” but the bird called back, “I am on my way to the sea where the whales are playing”.

And then a little box fell down beside the girl, and on it was the name of her other friend, Tony. It was beautiful, but locked, with a little key still in the lock. She knew at once what it was.“Come over here. Oh come over here” the girl called to her friends, and this time, they heard her.

“What is that silver. . . . oh!” exclaimed Alex. “My bed! The very one I dreamed of! How can that be?” “And there goes your crane, Jenna, on her way to watch the whales play” said the girl, pointing to the crane that was circling around them before flying out of sight. “How did you know that I was flying to watch whales?” asked Jenna in astonishment. “I didn’t tell you that!” “No, you didn’t. The crane did”, said the girl with a big smile. “And see, here is my baby brother, come back from the fox”. The girl’s friends looked totally perplexed, especially when they spied a little red fox disappearing into a burrow beside one to the trees.

“Here Tony”, said the girl, handing the box to her friend. “I believe that is the dream you forgot last night”. Tony stared at the box and the girl, not sure what to do. “Before you go to sleep tonight”, the girl continued, “why not open the box and dream that dream again?” Tony nodded dumbly.

This was all too much. In fact, as the friends walked home, they could hardly talk from astonishment. The girl just smiled. She smiled because she knew that the world was full of surprises. There is so much that we don’t know about it.

As she parted from her friends to go home, Alex said quietly, not quite believing what he was saying. “Maybe we live right beside the land of dreams, but just don’t see it.” Jenna nodded. “Yes, maybe it is a real place after all, “ she said. Tony shook his head. “I just don’t believe it! Somehow, you’ve played a trick on us,” he said to the girl, his eyes full of admiration because Tony did appreciate a good trick. “No,” said the girl. “No trick. You just have to believe”, and with that, she went home smiling all the way.

 

(Fox drawing from 'The Little Prince' by Antoine de Saint Exupery)

 

 

Life with Birds

My 16 year old grandson loves birds, and for a while there, until he discovered drones, girls and guitars, he drew many of them, some of them below. Now his bird life is more or less restricted to life with Alex, his pet cockatiel.

My life with birds, on the other hand, grows richer and richer: kookaburras, currawongs and crows in my back yard, lorikeets and honeyeaters swinging from the trees sucking nectar, and all kinds of other birds that fly, cry, perch and chatter around my home. This afternoon, a young kookaburra swung on a hanging pot plant as others looked on, and when I went outside to check on something, no one fluttered away, but looked at me intently.

 

Kingfisher, 2013

 

Alex at the window, 2015

 

Last week, as Alise and I sat in a park by the sea in Kingscliff, a flock of corellas that has been foraging on the grass rose in a flurry and flew over us, then wheeled back to fly over us again. We were talking of deep spiritual matters, as we often do, and both of us felt that the birds were responding to our conversation. That is not the first time. Several times, I have been speaking with someone about spirits finding ways to communicate with us, or telling them of some of my strange experiences with birds, and there on the fence appears a special bird or a group of them as though listening in approvingly.

  And I have already written somewhere about the hawks that kept appearing to guide me through New Zealand, and the osprey, perhaps, or sea hawk that caught a fish from another in midair then flew away, and circled back over me three times to give me a lesson.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

unfinished 3D bird,  2015.

 

Birds are the messengers from heaven, intermediaries between the invisible world and this. When they want to tell us something, they break with their usual behaviour to catch our attention, and the wise person watches with an open heart, and listens for the message that the heart hears. It is always what we need to hear at that time, a reminder, a precaution, a lesson, like the lesson of the sea hawk that taught me that if we are to achieve our goals, mind, heart and will must act in unison towards those goals.

It is not for nothing that Hermes, messenger of the gods, wears feathers sandals, or that like the trickster bird, he can appear to be doing nothing or acting silly when he is really carrying a message of great importance.

 

Galah 14 Dec 2015.