Most testimonials and thank yous that arrive weekly, are responded to and filed, but not usually shared openly. A few are popped onto "KIND WORDS"
on this site. This morning, this sweet testimonial arrived via my angel website, www.angelsonearth.info
Perhaps you'll see why I'd love to share it?
The lady had bought my book, Angels on Earth
, and wrote, "... read it cover to cover. It was like eating my fill of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. Thank you for blessing me."
Regular readers who know my love of chocolate, will appreciate how much I loved her chocolate chip analogy! :-)
"Love" is the most difficult word to understand. Because in most languages you "love" your lover, parents or children, "love" your neighbour or colleague, "love" your job or hobby, "love" your home or holiday, "love" chocolate or God. You can "love" anything under the sun - including the sun!
But there's a problem...
Different "loves" usually have different feelings! You feel different loves for your lover, mother, chocolate or God. Yet you say you "love" them all.
Recently an attractive stranger approached me in the street. "I love you!" she said.
Taken aback, I said, "That's a bit quick. I don't know you yet! Why do you love me?"
"Because I often see you smiling. I love that."
"I'm glad you love me for being naturally happy," I smiled. "So you didn't mean you actually love me, like a partner?"
It was her turn to feel taken aback. "No, not at all. I just love the way you always smile. Aren't you ever unhappy?"
"I'm human, so get unhappy too. But there's too many positives. I love everything and everyone, everywhere. Even though sometimes," I added, "people I love act unlovingly towards me."
"I agree," she said. "Love is a difficult word. I love your smiles, you love everyone, and so do I. But so many people I love are bad to me. They never tell me why. So I just love them anyway, from a distance."
"So some people don't understand your love either?" I asked.
"No. Maybe love is a negative word. If you tell an abused person you love them, they can't accept your love because they relate it to abuse."
"So true," I agreed. "Many of my patients were abused and can't understand love."
"Three of my family were abused," she said. "They can't understand my love either. They think my love is negative."
As if reading my mind, she smiled. "It's our angelic burden. "We can never adequately explain different types of love for different types of people. We just share love. And pray one day, people in our lives understand."
We walked off in different directions, not smiling as much. It was our serious thoughts for the day. How can we show people we love them, when they reject the type of love we offered? Why can't they see our beautiful motives of love?
Maybe as in Sanscrit, languages could use different words for the love of a parent, child, chocolate etc.
Then the word "love" could not be construed as negative. Love could mean one specific, positive thing.
Such as LOve is the highest, most perfect, ideal, unconditional LOve of God and the angels.
Over 20 years I've visited MBS festivals internationally. It's inspiring to watch so many therapists heal so lovingly, via their chosen therapy. And awe-inspiring to see so many patients sit or lie with a grimace, and stand up after therapy grinning, pain-free and happy.
Last weekend I was inspired again, at the UKs “Brighton Well-being Festival”. This regular event at Brighton's Race Course is professional. Therapist-exhibitors are chosen if they are competent, well-trained, and knowledgeable.
Therapists were realistic in their comments. That is, apart from one chiropractor. After about one minute “examination” she told a visitor his discs would collapse and cripple him later in life. Terrible! That man could be mentally scarred, waiting for discs to collapse that might actually be perfectly fine.
But then, doctors often tell patients worst case scenarios for their conditions. How many cancer patients are told they only have an amount of time to live, and are then cured or put into remission by a non-medical therapy?
Other therapists had true quality. One striking looking lady didn't want her photo on my blog, saying she doesn't want ego. Therapists were “normal”. No outlandish clothes or hairstyles, which was a surprise for Brighton given the extreme clothes and hairstyles locally.
It was a fun day. One therapist looked shattered. "Are you tired?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied. I've stood for two days, talking non-stop. I was going to ask those healers to help give my energy back." He pointed to a group of healers working on patient's auras.
"I'll do it for you," I said. "It'll only take a few minutes to re-energise you. Sit in the chair, facing me."
It's not difficult to re-energise someone who is tired. It's simply 1) finding energetic blockages in each leg - blockages are almost always present in tiredness cases 2) making natural energy from my hand flow into the block until the block breaks down 3) re-connecting the free flow of low frequency energy from below the feet up to the hips.
It's not difficult to use the Schumann's Resonance (Google it...) in this way, to help tiredness cases. It even helps severe non-viral chronic fatigue or ME. I've seen people confined to wheelchairs, able to walk easily again after one session.
In this case, the exhibitor immediately felt the energy from my hand project to his feet. As my hand moved up, he felt the energy move up too - until it reached a point my energy couldn't pass through. That was a block! I simply "swept through it" until it cleared. And so on until both legs felt energy travelling right through them, into his body.
"I'm fine now," he said, looking a little mystified. It's always fun to help someone spontaneously, especially when they don't expect to be helped and the result mystifies them! I didn't want a gift, so he kindly gave my friend, who had a bowel problem, his own herbal alchemy of digestive tea.
There is vast scientific evidence that Complementary and Alternative Medicine (CAM) relieves chronic health conditions doctors can't help. It's time that patients change from automatically popping pills with severe side effects, to CAM therapies that are more effective and safer.
Mind Body Spirit (MBS) Festivals can show patients and medical professionals alike better and safer healthcare options.
I had a different "reward" to my friend's herbal tea - sampling free chocolates on the next stand. If medical and other therapies fail, chocolate can be a last resort to boost hope.
Gilda's left-over roast dinner - spot the cranberry sauce?
Sea sunset through Natalie's dining room window
Part of June's meat, cheese, and chocolate buffet
View of my house while eating chips
In between sorting stacks of paperwork this week, priorities were catching up with friends' and family over dinners (yum yum), and helping those in need by phone.
My Auntie Joan and I loved Gilda's roast fit for the ravenous, Natalie and Ted's sausage and mash, June's meat, cheese and chocolate buffet, chips on the harbour wall, and my sister Barbara's Sunday lunch. Nothing too spiritual, but the company was healing!
Helping those in need by phone included a suicidal man threatening to kill himself and his children, a cancer patient with days to live, a lady with multiple traumas, and so on.
As usual, no income this week. My life is about helping others, with unconditional love for their souls.
This wonderful world is enhanced if just one person improves. To be able to help every day, is a blessing, a humble service for humankind on behalf of God and the angels.
Teadora’s Magic Story Book (that's what she wanted us to call it).
This is a 5-year old girl’s story of how she came to Earth...
Last night, five-year old Teadora explained how she died in her previous life; what happened between that life and this; and how she entered her mother’s tummy. She’d come from her bath relaxed and happy, cuddled up to her mom, and talked.
I was really interested. Most parents drum past life memories out of the child. Parents tend not to believe, so children soon forget – or argue with parents who don’t understand them.
Teadora remembered everything, and her mom just accepted lovingly. I simply asked questions, and Teadora responded earnestly, seriously, seemingly honestly.
To summarize, in her previous life she’d been making pictures with her mom. There was a war, when her city was destroyed by men who didn’t care.
She then went to Sivera, a place just for single moms and children who die unexpectedly and need a place for comfort, healing, and learning.
Later she met God who said in a deep voice her new mom was calling her to enter her tummy. She knew her mom would have $10 million and would give her lots of toys. (Her current mom works for a millionaire toy company!)
And, she remembered her grandfather who died, and was then in someone else’s tummy – re-incarnated?
Here’s 5 year old Teadora’s story, which I wrote down word for word as she spoke...
“I was in another country, with a different mom. I was making pictures with that mom when the city was knocked down. He didn’t stop and he didn’t even want to see the city again.
“Then there was like a shooting star, named like a fairy, a Fayrrrrrrr.” Teadora rolled the rrrrrrr at the end of the word. We tried to repeat it, and roll the rrrrrrr too. Teadora watched our tongues, before continuing. “A Fayrrrrrrr is a thing that shoots in the sky.”
We tried to say Fayrrrrrrr, but obviously didn’t get it right. “No,” she said, firmly and seriously. “Not Fayre, Fayrrrrrrr. Put your tongue right here.” She touched one finger high on the roof of her mouth, and watched as we tried to put our tongues there too, before she continued. “A Fayrrrrrrr is a kind of thing I knew but don’t know anymore.” I looked at her. “You’re writing my story. Write that down.” I did.
“Then I was in Sivera. There was no-one there but single children and moms. No brothers, no sisters, no aunts, no uncles, no granddads, no grandmas, nobody except single children and moms. I was there with a different mom. There were lots of stores there, but not like our stores. They had rainbow ice-cream, and I tasted it. It tasted like chocolate.
“In Sivera it never became night-time, because God is night-time. It just looked like night-time with lots of stars.
“Then I was with God and waiting for mom to wish me in her tummy. I saw God and he was a rainbow colour, and he got to see me. I made a huge rainbow of all the pictures I’d made with the mom I had before. I saw you, a lot skinnier than you are now. You had $10 million in a big bag, so you could buy me lots of toys. I was happy.
"Then I was on a magic ice-cream rainbow hill. God told me (here, Teadora spoke in a strangely deep voice.) ‘Keep still. Stay here.’ Then God said, ’Your mom is calling you to come in her tummy.’ This is the sound mom made when she was calling me.” (Teadora made high-pitched, lilting sounds, in waves.)
“I did stuff when I was born... I don’t know... I ate (pretend) rainbow ice-cream and played with my friends.
“I talk to Grandpa now when he’s not very tired. Grandpa looks at me everywhere when he’s in God. He comes back in my dreams, not in my real dreams.
"When I was with God, someone wished Grandpa, and he was then in someone’s tummy.”
Wow. If we all had such memories, and mothers encouraged their children to remember more, what a different world we would live in. Maybe a better world if we all remembered being with God...
"I need chocolate," I said to Amanda as we drove to my lecture on "How to See Auras." A bar of bubbly Aero later, Amanda laughed, "You're back to your bubbly self."
I realised why bubbly chocolate was needed when one lady said she was psychic, a healer and saw auras - but made constant negative comments about psychic, healing, and auras! It seemed she tried to burst everyone's bubbles!
She was so negative, I didn't mind saying, "If you don't mind, I disagree with everything you've said, and can teach you privately after."
She looked most unhappy at that suggestion, and continued in a negative vein, such as, "I can see red around your head."
"In 30 years of teaching how to see auras, no-one has ever seen red on me. The lowest frequency is green or blue, but it's more likely violet, white or gold. So either you're seeing something new on me, or you're making it up." She didn't respond.
When seeing auras, Amanda said, "I see a white haze surrounding my fingers." Linda saw gold on her aura, and others saw greens or yellows. Everyone could see their own aura, except for the negative lady!
I pressed her for what she could see. Eventually she said, "I can't see an aura," and stormed out! It felt dark energy had left. Bright colours filled the room.
The energy lifted, felt lighter, happier. Remaining participants saw my aura mainly as lilac, purples and whites, until a strange thing happened. "I can see people on your face!" Linda exclaimed. Another lady could too.
"Just my guides," I explained. "There's about 22 altogether."
Many other strange things were seen - half of those present saw blue, furled wings on me :)) ha ha
That burst a few bubbles. :-)
This is of course a generalisation - immigrants to my area of the UK find a business niche, depending on their nationality...
Over the decades, immigrants from India opened corner shops, Italians began ice-cream parlours, Polish men started building business, Turks bought out roast dinner cafes, and Greeks and Chinese took over fish and chip shops. It might be an unfair comment, but it seems Czechs and Romanians earn social security money.
The current crop of immigrants are Latvians. Two knocked on my door yesterday, complete with back-packs and suitcases looking for all the world like all their worldly goods. Aleksejs and Vikors had just arrived from Latvia, with no job, and no-where to stay. But they had a plan. Stay with me for two nights (who gave them that idea, God?), get a job within the two days, and find an apartment to rent on the third day.
You know, I believe they'll do it. Latvians in Margate seem pleasant, intelligent, and industrious. Not for them social security. They want to work hard, save hard, and enjoy life in happy, positive ways. And they've found their business niche. Horticulture. Most work with salad plants and crops.
I gave Aleksejs and Vikors a key to my home and left them to start their new lives. It's the least I can do to help them climb their ladder of success.
I'm just waiting for an immigrant nationality to start chocolate restaurants.
The full-day writing conference run by Jane Wenham-Jones and Maggie Harris was successful. Chocolate eclairs were amazing! They had to be. "Mrs Corbys Tea Rooms" always offer high class old-fashioned food and good service. You taste special ingredients in all her food - KINDNESS and LOVE! Which is maybe why she won a 2011 tourism award and cafe employee of the year. See www.corbystearooms.co.uk/reviews.php This isn't tongue-in-cheek - it was tongue around the lips.
But to drag myself away from the cream cakes, the writing day produced significant applause at the end. Over 20 budding writers had been egged on their literary careers in gentle, caring ways, and asked me about publishing their eBook for them. I was pleased that Jane's hilarious book, "Wannabe a Writer?", sold out. As did Maggie's insightful book, "Kiskadee Girl", on Caribbean life.
My recent Caribbean adventures still turn up "co-incidences". On the cruise I met Gaynor, who asked me to lecture at her April conference. At today's event, I met one of her friends, who will also lecture there. As they say, it's a small world, connecting us in ways we may only imagine.
Perhaps I could pop down our writing tasks, to give a non-chocolate eclair flavour of the day?
First, we had to write the opening of a book. So the following may open Book 2 in my trilogy, "The Cosmic Corporation". (Book 1 is downloadable from the homepage.)
"It was another one of those Monday mornings. Michael hopped out of bed, smiling as usual. Another happy day to look forward to, he thought. His eyes sparkled like see-through azure sea.
"Texts and emails showed his first jobs. A lady abused by her husband wants to kill him. A mother whose child is out of control wants to throw him out. And a couple whose baby died have entered a suicide pact.
"Hmm, which to help first...
"As Michael started his God-given tasks for the day, he combed his sun-blonde curls, and unfurled his pale blue wings..."
Next we wrote 12 poetic lines about our family in 10 minutes, repeating part of the first line. Here's my attempt.
Mum (Channing) and dad (Sweeney)
(a tongue-in-cheek poem of personal 'memories')
Channings made cakes to die for;
Sweeneys meals made you want to die.
Channings loved kids, as many as their stomachs could hold;
Sweeneys made kids their life purpose, but couldn’t stomach them.
Channings were Jews, but prayed to be atheists;
Sweeneys loved business, and saved pennies like Jews.
Channings were mostly happy, and gentle;
Sweeney’s almost learned genteel happiness.
Channings played games, sung and had fun;
Sweeneys fun came through games of life.
Channings taught lessons of nature;
Sweeneys fraught lessons of nurture.
‘Blue Curacao booze originated on this island’, said the owner selling booze at Memory Lane. The man spoke Papiamento, a local language based on West African grammar, with English, Spanish and Dutch added. ‘Red, green, yellow, and other coloured Curacao originated here too - dye is simply added to sun-dried Lahara citrus fruit, and rum.’ That’s probably nothing to do with this island having the largest synagogue in the Western hemisphere.
This is the largest of the Netherlands Antilles islands, so Holland ensures Dutch goods abound in expensive shops. Which gave me an idea...
I’d been wondering what New Year Resolution to make. At my age, we should have made and achieved all the resolutions we need! One year, I ran out of ideas, so resolved to give up smoking. That was easy to keep. I’d never smoked before anyway.
This New Year Resolution was framed by seeing Dutch Droste chocolate pastilles and Verkade chocolate bars. Here it is... ‘This year I’ll travel the world to taste the best chocolates this planet offers.’ That resolution should be easy to keep too. Alongside trying to relieve suffering wherever I tread.
Today will have a happy ending - I've arrived in Odense, Denmark, Hans Christian Anderson's fairy-tale city. If you enjoy reading of fairy tale lives, humour and variety, these blog posts are written for you! Today, as you will discover, really is the first day of the rest of my life...
Examples of strange tales you might expect from this blog...
My fairy tale life started when born 80% disabled and doctors said I wouldn't make 'old bones', or even teenage years. From that moment, my stubborn fairy godmother and guardian angel set to work to prove the doctors wrong.
Joyful childhood fairy tales could be told of me singing in Canterbury Cathedral choir, playing piano, table-tennis, and snooker. Mystical fairy tales can be told of me aged 7 suddenly knowing healing methods to stay strong and alive. And horrid fairy tales could be told of the special boarding school for ‘delicate’ children where some classmates may have died, then a private boarding school where we wore black gowns and square mortar boards and childhood naughtiness wasn’t stopped by thrashings from the headmaster's bamboo canes.
Despite often being hospitalised twice a year, I became a professional photographer in Germany, a UK government business consultant, vice-president of the Speakers' Society, enjoyed dangerous black run skiing, played international chess, and so on. Being 80% disabled had wonderful benefits. I had a brain to achieve excellent careers or hobbies, but always ended in hospital deciding what to learn next!
Like in a fairy tale, one day I expected to go into hospital, but unexpectedly met a wonderfully weird woman. She put her hands on me, and almost in a wave of a magic wand, I was cured.
Decades later, I’m like the wonderfully weird woman. I’ve developed ‘magic’ cures for many conditions doctors cannot help; cured thousands of patients; constructed an anti cancer programme oncologists are dying to see; teach 63 psychic subjects; been complementary therapy tutor for UK prisons; taught thousands of students; pioneered effective therapies for 15 psychological conditions; lecture on angels and soul paths; and have written over 20 publications. I’ve co-presented a daily mystical TV show, and worked internationally with doctors, academics, governments, and three royal families. And so on. Nothing is more important than anything else. Everything is intended to relieve suffering, improve lives, and help our needy world.
If we give ourselves unconditionally to help others, God gives back without being asked. So God-given wonderful adventures include climbing the foothills of Mount Everest to give money to headmasters to re-build 8 dilapidated schools, driving atop hot sand dunes in the Sahara Desert, cruising near blue icebergs in the freezing Antarctic, trekking through equatorial forests, and visiting cities, islands and mountains galore. Imagine the contrast of finding an undiscovered pyramid in a Mexican jungle, with gigantic gold monkeys, and being gourmand secretary of a little society called ‘Chocoholics Unanimous’...
As in a fairy tale, one shouldn’t only experience goodness, love and fun. Balance should be in all things, otherwise how can we truly appreciate beauty and love?
These few adventures are exactly that – just a few of my fairy tale adventures. I’m told I go where angels fear to tread. But it’s just that the Gods guide me to the right place at the wrong time!! I simply accept with unconditional love, and see no reason why they shouldn’t continue the fun.
Today really is the first day of the rest of my life. I was only based in England to try to help my daughter, despite our tough personal circumstances, and despite doctors saying for decades my health needed warmer climes. But at last I've rented out my amazing home on the beach, and given up all work. It’s time to write as I travel, to share love and healing with other parts of the world, and perhaps to find love too.
Come and enjoy with me, fairy tale adventures along the way. Everything will be true, but you may not believe anything. And that’s exactly how life is in this weird and wonderful world.