Monday, April 26, 2010

Unseen influences: synchronicity, coincidences and timing

Many of the strange incidents described in other articles were very unpleasant and painful to experience. There is another side to the story: I experienced some interesting and amusing unusual incidents too, many of them during a phase in my life when I had started to wake up, defend myself and investigate the metaphysical world.

This article contains a miscellaneous assortment of such incidents. I am not sure of their significance, although they do provide supporting evidence for the theory that our thoughts may influence reality.

Some of these incidents gave me an opportunity to take a closer look at something that I had seen on TV or read about, and wished that I could see more of; other things that I had just been thinking about and dwelling on without wishing that I could see them also manifested in my life.

The milkman, the archbishop and the Liverpool Spinners
One fine summer’s day many years ago, I decided to go to the Harrods sale. I wanted to get there early to avoid the crowds, but needed to stay at home until my milk was delivered: it would turn sour very quickly if I left it standing outside my door in the heat. I did not expect to wait long, as the milkman always came very early on Saturdays in the summer. I did not know that my regular milkman was on holiday; the temporary man was late because he was not familiar with the route. I played some music while I was waiting, including songs by The Spinners (Liverpool not Detroit), who were one of my favourite groups. They often wore a stage uniform of yellow tunic and black trousers. I played one song several times because I liked it so much: it is called Asikatali or Asikhatali and is a South African freedom song.

This song by association made me think about Archbishop Trevor Huddleston, friend of Nelson Mandela and renowned anti-apartheid campaigner who lived in South Africa for many years. He had been interviewed on the radio recently, and said something about the ordination of women that could be taken two ways. I thought about this while I was waiting: I wondered what he actually meant by his comments and whether he was in favour or not.

The milkman eventually came, I put the milk away and went out. I was singing Asikatali to myself as I walked along: We do not care if we go to prison/it is for freedom that we gladly go”. I was lost in the song when I suddenly had an uncomfortable feeling: it seemed that someone was following me. I came back down to earth and turned round. I saw an African man who seemed to have fallen into step behind me. He was wearing a tunic and trousers made of black and yellow patches.

I turned back - and saw Archbishop Huddleston: he was standing right in front of me! His face was unmistakable, and he was in clerical dress. He had two small boys with him, and they went into a sports shop. Perhaps he was buying cricketing gear for some of his young relations.

The temporary milkman was really responsible for this incident: it was his arrival time that got me to the right place at the right time. A few seconds earlier or later and I would have missed seeing the Archbishop. Perhaps the music and drumming and the pictures in my mind had something to do with it too, where the African man was concerned. What I was dwelling on in my mind certainly manifested in my life in this case.

I found The Spinners' recording of Asikatali on YouTube recently. It reminded me of this incident from my past.

The sultanas and the fox cub
Christmas was on the horizon. I decided to make some mincemeat provided that I already had all the ingredients, dried fruit in particular. I checked my stores and found that I had some dried fruit but no sultanas. A friend came visiting. She put a bag into my hand: it contained some dried fruit, including some large, pale, plump sultanas - the best specimens that I had ever seen. I told her that she had read my mind.

I paid her back immediately: I gave her a BBC Wildlife magazine that I had bought for her children because it had an article about Russian Dwarf Hamsters, which they loved. It also had the winning pictures from the BBC’s wildlife photography competition. She told me that she had heard about this on the radio. The BBC had announced that the winner was a picture of a fox cub with a puzzled expression. She had immediately wished very strongly that she could see this picture, and I had put it into her hand. This is a good example of a ‘double whammo'.

The two glaciers
I was sucking the juice out of some science fiction magazines before taking them to a charity shop. I was reading a story about a man who lived in an imaginary future where there was a new ice age. He lived near a glacier; it was moving towards his hut and after measuring the daily movement he realised that he would soon be forced to move south as his little house would be overwhelmed by the ice. Before I had quite finished the story, I switched the radio on to hear the news summary, which usually ended with a light item. I endured the depressing news until the final item came: it was called ‘The Galloping Glacier’. It was about a glacier that was moving so fast that its movement could be measured on a daily basis.

I told a colleague and fellow traveller, who is featured in some of my articles under the name of Mr W, about this, and he told me a long story about his experiences with double glazing: there had been some big new development. I can’t remember the whole story, but it is the topic that provides an example of another ‘double whammo’.

Water jet and gas jet
I felt a generous impulse one day, and decided to go out and get a present for someone. I was rather undecided as to where to go, but eventually took a route through a busy central area. I noticed that a small crowd was watching something. I went to see what they were all looking at, and found that it was a spectacular water leak.

Normally when water mains burst the water just ripples away into the gutter and no one gives it a second look, but this was like a fountain. The water was rising higher and higher in spurts. More people came to see the show and a policeman came to inspect it too. I went on to the shops, and when I came back there were no remaining signs that something unusual had happened.

I told Mr W, who immediately matched my story: he gone out around the same time, felt an inclination to take a different route and seen a big gas jet that had caught fire and was attracting a lot of attention from passers-by.

The small lions and the Age of Aquarius
I had been reading about the dawning of the Aquarian Age. I had come across the idea that we also need to consider the sign of Leo, which is opposite Aquarius. The start of this aspect of the new age could be symbolised by a small lion or lion cub.

Just as I was thinking about this, the TV news ended with an item about someone who was fostering some young wild animals: two lion cubs and one tiger. Then I had a flash of understanding: I suddenly realized that the name of a former acquaintance meant ‘young lion’ in his native language, which I had started to learn.

Soon after this, I went to an event and was introduced to someone who suddenly produced a small size Lion chocolate bar and insisted I take it.

The two Boxers
I raised a few families of Russian Dwarf Hamsters many years ago. It was very amusing to watch some of them go through the ‘wild young man’ phase. I remember going to investigate some squawking and finding two brothers sitting up and throwing punches at each other. It was just sparring, not real fighting. They were big around the shoulders and I thought that they looked like two boxers with towels round their necks. I told some people at work about my two tiny boxers.

When I came home that day, I arrived just in time to help someone get his dogs out of the front door. It was narrow and heavy, and he was trying to hold it open with one hand while manoeuvring the dogs on leads out with the other. I held the door open for him, and admired the dogs: they were two Boxer dogs! They were beautiful. I had never seen either the man or the dogs before, and I never saw them again.

Yet again, something I had been thinking about manifested in my life, and the timing was spot on.

Arthur Miller
I was reading his autobiography and thinking about the parts that had some relevance to my investigations. I decided to go to a central market by a particular route, and on the way I saw him and his third wife sitting at a table outside a small café – he was unmistakable.
I often passed famous actors from TV programmes that I liked in the street, but as I often walked through theatreland I can’t see much significance in this. Someone from the US whose book provided confirmation of some of my ideas is another matter.

Nelson Mandela’s daughter’s hat
I watched Mandela’s inauguration, which was attended by his daughter. I really liked her hat: it was dark and square, very different from the usual round, flowery hats that are often worn on formal occasions. I wished for a longer look, as the cameras soon moved to him.

I was thinking about it while waiting for a bus. My bus came; I was about to get on when I noticed that the one behind had many more empty seats. I didn’t want to have to stand, so I went towards the second bus. Then something prompted me to go back to the first bus: after all, I only needed one seat.

A strikingly dressed young woman got on at the next stop. Everyone was looking at her surreptitiously: her clothes were very smart and unusual. I think that she was a fashion student and had made them herself. Her hat looked remarkably like the one worn by Mandela’s daughter: it was exactly the same shape and colour.

It was always my habit to look out for the emptiest buses, but on this occasion something made me take one that was almost full. I was very glad that I did, considering what came of it.

The Pygmies and the 1950s housewife
I saw a TV programme about someone who brought a group of Pygmies from Africa to Europe - I think it was Germany. They wore tracksuits and walked along in single file behind their guide; they had someone to look after them and deal with the cultural differences. I thought that taking them out of their usual environment was not a very wise idea, and wondered what they thought about life in the West.

The next day, someone who looked as though he came from the same group came and sat next to me on the bus. He wore a similar tracksuit, and although very small appeared to be a young adult not a child. I had been thinking about the Pygmies, but not actually wishing that I could see them.

Something very similar happened after I watched a programme about a woman who lived as much as possible like a housewife from the 1950s, including the clothes. I like the 1950s, and was delighted when a young woman wearing 1950s clothes got on my bus. She was not the one I saw on TV, but her handbag, shoes, dress and hairstyle all looked very authentic. She sat right opposite me, so I was able to get a very good look at her clothes.

The Tibetan restaurant and the motorised settee
I saw a fascinating TV programme about people who had put engines on their furniture, on a bed for example, then drove around in them. One man was chugging along a country lane on his settee at around 1 mile per hour. I would have liked a closer look, but thought that there was no chance as he lived up north somewhere and would only take it to places where there was no traffic.

A few days later, I was walking to work via a slightly different route from my normal one when I saw the settee parked outside a Tibetan restaurant! It had probably been hired for a promotional event, to attract customers. I was able to examine it closely: there was a real (uncooked) pizza in the steering wheel, and a little table with a vase of cloth flowers was attached to one of the arms of the settee.

Who and why
I have only ever met one person who has had a string of similar experiences, although a few more have told me about one or two incidents involving coincidences. I have found online some more people in whose lives synchronicities are a regular occurrence. I wonder how many there are in the entire world. I wonder why we are singled out in this way. I wonder what we all have in common.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Unseen influences: accidents caused by energy vampires

It is a strange fact that every time I have had an accident where I was physically hurt, it occurred soon after I had been in contact with an energy vampire. Some of these accidents happened long before I even knew that energy vampires existed and started trying to protect myself from them; some happened long after I became aware of the problem. It isn't always possible to avoid energy vampires, unfortunately.

The broken wrist
The most serious of these accidents took place in the summer of the year 2000. It happened the morning after I was 'attacked' at work by a woman who was definitely an energy vampire. She was very much a type: jolly and hearty on the surface but probably desperate inside. I knew as soon as I first saw her that she was unsuitable for the position and would make trouble for the company and her fellow workers, but such people camouflage themselves at job interviews. They seem to hypnotise the interviewers and bypass their critical faculties.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Strange coincidences: three green men and some MacLeans

There was a phase in my life during which incredible coincidences and synchronicity were the norm. Most of these events were interesting, amusing and beneficial. I am glad now that I was able to enjoy them while they happened: I did not know that a very bad time was ahead of me. I remember one sequence of coincidences that is unusual by any standards.

A new young colleague came to work in my group. His name was Greensmith, and they put him next to someone whose last name was Greenwood. The other man in the small, partitioned off area was called Verdellen. I was very interested in anagrams and the meaning of names at the time, and thought that it was quite a coincidence that three green men should be sitting close together. I do realise that the name Verdellen is not derived from the Latin word for green, but it still contains it.

I told one colleague, who said that four was his threshold: he wanted another green man before he would believe that it was anything more than coincidence. There was someone else who might have been interested, but I did not tell him because he was frantically checking his notes for an imminent major software upgrade at the weekend.

I decided to wait until after the system had gone live so as to get his full attention, but he suddenly looked up from his papers and - out of the blue, to no one in particular - said that he would be going to the video shop (this was years before DVDs became the norm) to get The Third Man – a very good film. I think that it is a great film, but the coincidence is that the third man is Harry Lime, and the screenplay was taken from a story written by Graham Greene. I told the first colleague that his fourth and fifth men had appeared.

This was just the start: there was much more to come.

That weekend, I bought an interesting New Age book, and discovered that 'the third man' is a symbol for the new religion that some people believe is imminent: we get a new one every 2,100 years or so, and are just about due for another one.

The book said that the patriarchal, threat-and-promise based religion of Judaism relates to God the Father; the mercy and sacrificial humility of Christianity relates to God the Son, and a new, third stage, do-it-yourself religion relates to God the Holy Ghost. One day after having been introduced to this idea via a book, I heard it again in a New Age TV programme.

I started reading another New Age book by yet another person (mainly American) who had changed her life for the better on the outside by changing herself for the better on the inside and learning to read the signs. She had written this book so as to share her experiences and coincidences. She told how she had been unable to decide whether or not to go to one of the film star Shirley MacLaine's seminars. She had an unexpected phone call from a Mr MacLaine. She did not know him: he was an acquaintance of a friend. She was referred to a doctor who specialised in back problems – a Mrs MacLean. Then she went for an interview with a potential landlady - Mrs McClain. All this happened within the space of a few hours. She decided that the universe was telling her to go to the workshop.

This was fascinating, and it was good to find a fellow traveller, but there was more to come.

The next book that I read that weekend was written by a man who said that one of the best times in his life was when he was a university lecturer. The students would come to his place in the evenings and enjoy themselves. He said that he never hears the song American Pie without feeling nostalgic about those days.

I vaguely recalled this song: I remembered the tune but not the words. I kept wishing that I could hear it again. That same night, as I was settling down to sleep, a noisy group of people stopped in the street just below my window. They sounded young, drunk and American. They started to sing American Pie. It was dreadful: they sang badly and did not know most of the words. Perhaps I was responsible: it is a good example of: “Be very careful what you wish for: you will probably end up getting it”.

The next day, I went out and bought the song on tape. I did not really understand it, but was astounded when I heard the words: “And the three men I admire most/the Father, Son and Holy Ghost...” Then I suddenly realised the significance of the fact that the name of the singer-songwriter was … Don McLean.

The final link in the chain came a few days later. I had been going over all the coincidences again and again in an attempt to understand their significance. My mind suddenly threw up memories of reading about the Burgess and Maclean scandal: they were notorious British traitors who spied for the KGB during the Cold War. There was also an unidentified third man in the case. Maclean's first name was Donald.

I still don’t know what all these connections mean. There is a very tenuous link in that the name MacLean in all its variations originally meant the son of a follower of St. John. The name St. John has great significance for me, and it was on my mind at the time, although I did not learn the origin of the name MacLean until many years later.  The name Donald has great significance for me too.

Another incident similar to the drunken singers happened relatively recently, after a time when I had been fighting for survival for many years, and was not funny at all. I was staying in a hotel; I went to bed early because I was tired after a long journey, but I could not quite get to sleep; I was in a twilight state. I kept thinking about someone from the past, who used to sing and play a guitar; the memories were very painful and I felt very unhappy. Then someone came and stood in the street outside my window and stated singing and playing his guitar. Both the singing and playing were very bad: it was more like howling and twanging. The horrible noises went on for a long time and stopped me sleeping.

The next morning, the hotel owner told me that such a thing had never happened before. The man would not go away so the owner had to call the police to get rid of him. So then I felt guilty as well as miserable. I would like to think that it was nothing to do with me, but it does seem like a good example of: "Be very careful what you dwell on continuously and obsessively: it may well manifest in your life".

Friday, April 9, 2010

Unseen influences: positive interference and reverse sabotage

My reading, research and personal experiences have convinced me that unseen influences can and do interfere with and sabotage people’s lives. There is another side to this: unseen influences can have a beneficial effect. This kind of interference can induce positive paranoia, where it seems that the universe is staging things for one’s personal benefit.

Strangers in public places may be used to inconvenience, frighten and attack people; they may also be used in a positive way: this is the other side of the story. I have personal experience of what might be called positive interference or reverse sabotage. This article contains some of the best examples from my memories.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Unseen influences: interference and minor sabotage

I decided to write this article after discovering Carissa Conti's in2worlds website and reading what she has to say about Interference

I have some stories of my own to tell about interference on an individual level; I want to add my personal experiences to the available information.

Interference in childhood
The first occurrence that I can remember of a particular type of interference that I call 'nipping in the bud' happened when I was very young. I had invited twin girls from my class in school to my birthday party. I remember their names, but I can't remember much else about them, apart from the fact that this was the first - and last - time that they visited my house. We were playing games; my father was clowning around and he threw his arms up and 'accidentally' hit one of the girls in the face. She burst into tears, and the sisters decided to go home.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Unseen Influences: the sacrifice of the sons?

When I was very young, I was an avid reader of the works of such prolific novelists as Sir Henry Rider Haggard, Rudyard Kipling, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Rafael Sabatini. I knew at the time that both Rider Haggard and Kipling had a son who died young; it wasn’t until many years later that I learned about similar tragedies in the lives of Conan Doyle and Sabatini.

Rider Haggard’s only son died of measles aged 10 or 11. Rudyard Kipling’s only son was killed in the first World War at the age of 18. Rudyard Kipling had lobbied for his son’s conscription after the boy was declared unfit for military service. Sadly, Kipling’s elder daughter had earlier died of pneumonia at the age of seven.

Conan Doyle’s first born son died at the age of 25 in the flu epidemic in 1918. 

Rafael Sabatini’s son and only child died in a car accident at the age of 17 or so. Mrs Sabatini was in the car too but survived: she was thrown from the car, which reminds me of the fatal car accident involving Monaco's Princess Grace and Princess Stephanie. Rafael Sabatini’s young stepson died in a plane accident after joining the RAF. Something went wrong when he flew over the family home to demonstrate his new skills, and his plane crashed in flames nearby.

After discovering many more such deaths while reading biographical material for a variety of other people, I started to wonder whether something sinister could be at work.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Unseen Influencers: The Women in Black by Madeleine St. John

I remember reading a review of this book when it was first published. The review was in a free magazine that was given away at many stations; I used to take a copy if it was handed to me, but it never had much content that I thought worth reading. I read the book section in one issue, and saw a review of The Women in Black. The book’s outline did not sound very promising - sales assistants in the dress department of a Sydney department store in the 1950s are not what I would normally want to read about - but my radar picked something up. I had learned to respect these inner promptings so I bought the book.

My radar chose well. On one level the book makes a passable light read; on another level it acts as a teaching guide by providing examples of unseen influences of a positive kind. I did not immediately realise this: the insights came to me gradually in the following years.

The most significant character in The Women in Black is called Magda. She has a very beneficial influence on her fellow workers and their lives and families: deliberately or unconsciously she arranges their affairs so that they all get their heart’s desire. She is a wonderful example of someone who is the exact opposite of an energy vampire and a saboteur; she is a giver and a facilitator and everyone around her benefits from knowing her. The ripple effect spreads throughout her sphere of influence.

The positive effect that Magda has on the people around her reveals itself in both very small and very large ways. 

Magda befriends a young temporary sales assistant called Lisa. Lisa eventually gets the glamorous model gown of her dreams, and her father withdraws his objections and accepts that university is a suitable place for such a clever girl. The original cost of the beautiful frock had put it way beyond Lisa’s reach and her father had not been open to the idea of her going to university, but the obstacles dwindle and melt away. 

Magda invites Lisa to one of her parties, where she encounters salami for the first time. Lisa tells her mother, who says that she has never heard of it but will see if she can find some. Her father says that the salami is not bad and wonders what it is made from. Thus Magda enhances Lisa’s life and she does the same for her parents.

Magda is just being herself and doing what comes naturally when she takes an interest in people: the last thing on her mind is the thought of any reward. Her dream is to have a designer dress boutique of her own, and she is well on the way to realising her ambition. She has good relationships and a good life, so there is not much that anyone can do for her. What do you give to a woman who seems to have everything she wants?

Lisa gives her a wonderful present: she knows something about the country that Magda left after World War II to start a new life in Australia. Magda has learned that most Australians know very little about Europe, obscure Balkan countries in particular, so she is delighted to find someone who has actually heard of her home country. Lisa had ‘by chance’ taken an optional module at school after her exams, and learned some basic facts about European countries. The giving on both sides is painless: they are just doing what they are good at. This is the way it should be.

Magda plays the part of a fairy godmother: she makes people’s wishes come true. It is important to understand that what her colleagues and their families want is realistic both in terms of their lives and what the world has to offer, and they are definitely not the sort of people who are never satisfied. One man wants to meet a cultured Australian girl – if there is such a thing. Another colleague wants to settle down with the right sort of man. There is nothing wrong with a young girl’s setting her heart on getting a beautiful frock for special occasions. 

The name Madeleine St. John has very significant, family-related associations for me. I thought at first that it was a pseudonym as it seemed too good to be true, but it was the author’s real name. I was not surprised to learn that there was much ‘bad luck’ in her family and that her life was filled with pain and suffering; many of the elements in the biographical material that I found seemed very familiar.

Madeleine St. John’s father is of particular interest to me because of what I have read about the Brontës’ and Alcotts’ fathers. Edward St. John was a famous political activist and reformist who campaigned on behalf of many causes; Patrick Brontë was an energetic campaigner on a wide range of religious, social and political issues; Bronson Alcott was a man with a mission, a famous philosopher and ardent reformer who championed many causes and issues. Why did the creative daughters of these men suffer so much? What was happening below the surface of the families while the attention of these men was taken up with outside causes?

Madeleine St. John’s mother’s parents were Romanian Jews who fled Paris for Australia a few years before the start of World War II. Someone with this background seems rather a strange choice for a man like Edward St. John, who was the son of a Church of England canon and rather an establishment figure. Because of what happened in my own family, I often wonder in such cases how they came to meet each other and who had been wishing for what. 

The marriage turned sour; Madeleine St. John’s mother became depressed and Madeleine and her sister were sent by their father to a school that Madeleine likened to Jane Eyre’s Lowood. Their mother killed herself when Madeleine was twelve. Why do such factors recur again and again in writers’ lives?

Edward St. John is an interesting name by the way: it makes me think of St. John Rivers (and Edward Rochester) in Jane Eyre. Like St. John Rivers, Edward St. John was said to be cold and distant.  Charlotte Brontë said that her character Shirley was her sister Emily as she would have been had she been blessed with money and health. Was Magda in The Women in Black Madeleine St. John’s mother as she should have been?

Madeleine St. John became estranged from her family and suffered from illness and a lack of money in later life: unlike the characters in The Women in Black, there was no happy ending for her. She died at the age of 64. All we can do for her now is to learn from her book and try to be a positive unseen influence in our own and others’ lives.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Be very careful what you dwell on: getting caught in one's own traps

I have had some more ideas about Charlotte Brontë, and I want to pass on my interpretation of certain significant events in her life.

Charlotte Brontë and her siblings were obsessed with the Duke of Wellington, England’s hero of the time. He starred in many of the wonderful, Byronic stories that they created from their imaginations. Both Charlotte and Emily Brontë created dark, romantic heroes and it is likely that they thought of the Duke, whose real name was Arthur Wellesley, as dark and romantic too.

Charlotte eventually married a dark man whose first name was Arthur. Was this just a coincidence, or a case of ‘Be very careful what you wish for ...’? He annoyed her when he hung around and dogged her footsteps through the village, but perhaps he was drawn in and caught in a psychic trap.

Her letters show that she was a great daydreamer: she had an almost lifelong habit of ‘making out’ as it was then called. This helped her to escape from her surroundings and painful memories, and provided some compensation for an unsatisfactory life.

Some of her imaginings were so intensely vivid that they were almost hallucinations. She went in for two types of daydreaming: one where it was similar to watching TV and she did not know what would happen next, and the other where she mentally choreographed the events and invested a lot of energy in them, living them as if they were real. Some of the results went into her books:

Jane Eyre has a scene where Mr Rochester’s horse slips on the ice and comes crashing down. Luckily, neither the horse nor his master is badly hurt. Charlotte Brontë was not so fortunate when she rode a horse for the first time: the horse ‘spooked’ when going through a dangerous mountain pass and Charlotte was thrown to the ground and badly shaken. This accident might have been a contributory factor to her death, which was less than one year later. Charlotte had been warned about the difficult terrain and advised to dismount, but she decided to stay put. She described the incident in her letters and said that the horse appeared to go mad. 

Was there any connection between the incident that she had imagined and put into her book and her accident? When she originally created the scene, did she put so much of her vital energy into it that she created what some people would call an artificial elemental that hung around her waiting for an opportunity to fulfill its task? Sometimes the chickens come home to roost; we get back what we send out.

The description of the final weeks of Charlotte’s life is harrowing to read: she was confined to her bed and became weaker and weaker. In Charlotte’s book Shirley, Caroline Helstone pines away, which causes her long lost mother to come forward and declare herself. Caroline’s story had a happy ending; Charlotte Brontë’s did not. Her mother had died when Charlotte was six years old. When she wrote this scene, she may have been performing unconscious sympathetic magic in an attempt to bring her mother back. Did she get caught in another of her own traps? Was she unconsciously re-creating a very painful, deeply buried memory that was burned into her soul?

There are parallels in the Alcott family: Louisa and her mother were very affected by the death of Louisa’s sister Elizabeth, which was very harrowing. When the Alcott sisters’ mother died, she was reduced to the same terrible shrunken state as Elizabeth. Could Louisa have had something to do with this? Could she have re-created a scene that had badly affected her in the past?

There are names for the conscious use of the directed imagination: pathworking, creative visualisation and magical imagery for example. It seems that some people need no training: they are naturals. They never realise what they are doing, and they never get any instruction or guidance. They need to be very careful what they dwell on, as it may well manifest in their lives.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Energy vampires: my thoughts and memories Part II

How energy vampires feed
Some authorities say that the draining is done via the second or third chakra: this is very interesting as I remember having stomach pains that made me clutch myself and wrap my arms around myself when I was in the presence of certain members of my family. Energy vampires tend to stand very close, and parents may insist that you look at them when they are talking to you.  They may approach you silently so that you are thrown off balance when they startle you: this makes it easier for them to feed. I have experienced this many times. I have also been on the receiving end of techniques such as talking and complaining non-stop as a distraction from what they are doing, and continually asking stupid and unnecessary questions just as a pretext to approach and feed.

They do not always need to be in their victims’ company: if there is a personal connection they can extract energy over the phone; they may send unpleasant letters or emails that give their victims a shock that lowers their defences so that the energy vampires can feed remotely.

Some vampires may not have specific victims: they drain the world at large by exerting a huge pull on the environment. They need fuel for their fantasies, and this can come from people whom they have never even met such as neighbours, fellow workers and people in public places.

The effects that vampires have on their victims
Symptoms of being attacked by an energy vampire can range from very mild through seriously damaging and terrible to fatal. The symptoms can manifest physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Sometimes the effects are felt immediately and the victim tries to limit contact in the future; sometimes the victim is so far gone that they have lost the ability to monitor their sensations (some of the worst cases have never even been in a position to do this)  and remove themselves from a dangerous situation.

Victims seem to be hypnotised, temporarily or permanently; their critical faculties may be paralysed and they may lack the vocabulary and concepts necessary to describe their situation.  They often cannot find the strength to confront the vampire or get away: neither flight nor fight is possible. I am still trying to understand why I let my sister behave the way she did for so long, and why I never confronted her about the terrible effect that she had on me.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Be very careful what you wish for: psychological black magic that backfired.

Black magic has been described as an ‘illegitimate short cut’. I really like this definition. It covers trying to get what you haven’t legitimately earned.

From what I have seen, some people do appear to use a kind of psychological black magic or mind power as an unseen influence to get or try to get what they want, as opposed to using natural methods such as obtaining qualifications and learning the skills that would help them to get suitable well-paid jobs; working to earn the money to pay for the things that they want; attracting decent human beings into their lives by being one themselves so that people like to do them favours, introduce them to others and invite them to events; asserting themselves and negotiating with people and practising give and take in their relationships.

I have also seen that even where these people do get what they asked for, it usually goes horribly wrong, backfires, turns sour or is a fifth rate travesty of what they really wanted. The backlash can make people very depressed and unstable. This is all unconscious: they never usually make the connection between what they were obsessively wishing for and what manifested in their lives. They never usually realise that they have sold their soul and sanity and got a very bad deal.

Some examples from my own experience follow.