Miscellaneous Metaphysical Facts
Next installment of Legend of the Wren
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Content in This Journal:
Several Metaphysical Facts
Excerpt of Legend of the Wren
Etheric Body Scanning
The etheric body is an energetic duplicate of the physical body. and registers cell by cell, organ by organ, what is present in the body. Scanning the etheric body can be done after you clear your mind. The using your hand about 10 inches away, start at the top of the head, slowly sweeping back and forth. As you move through the energies, you will recognize thicknesses or slippery areas.
Always state to the person you are working with what you are feeling. After some practice you will be proficient with this technique. Ask your guides (especially your Chemist) for guidance. They will impress you with health areas that might need to be addressed.
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Always Do Your Best. Your "best" is a variable thing from moment to moment. "When you do your best, you don't give the Judge the opportunity to find you guilty or to blame you.” You can always say, “I did my best." There are no regrets. (p.80) The other key to doing your best revolves about being in action. "Action is about living fully. Inaction is the way that we deny life. Inaction is sitting in front of the television every day for years because you are afraid to be alive and to take the risk of expressing what you are. Expressing what you are is taking action. You can have many great ideas in your head, but what makes the difference is the action. Without action upon an idea, there will be no manifestation, no results, and no reward." (p.82) The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz.
No matter what you are doing — be it psychic development or sweeping your porch, always do your best.
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“When we forgive, we’re able to get back to loving ourselves and stop feeling like a victim. This doesn’t mean that you’re releasing the person from the responsibility of their past actions, but instead, it means that you’re releasing the anguish that your soul is carrying around with it. Whether they deserve to be forgiven or not, just remember that you’re doing it primarily for yourself.” ~John Holland
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What Are Energy Implants?
There is a type of energy (negative in nature) that wants to slow us down, block our ability to intuit, recognize or what is really going on in in our world.
If it manages to work its way into our energy field, it can plant a certain vibration into the DNA (yeah, I know!)
It can be influenced from the fourth density field like a laser. In some cases, sound or thoughts and words – can shift and change it. Or even block it and dumb it down. (Sounds serious, right?)
By doing this kind of manipulation, the negative source has eventually intervened in the natural evolution of humanity. It has done this to limit and control, so that people cannot so easily feel, intuit or know external distorting influences coming in through their field and affecting the choices people make.
A major tool the negative energy has used to limit and dumb down, are energy implants. The best way to describe these are twisted eddy currents of energy that emit various frequencies which create something akin to ‘white noise’. People are internally distracted by the ‘noise’ which lowers their vibration and since it is so prevalent, then fades into the background of their experience.
(Some of this information is from Openhand.)
* I’ll have more detailed information delivered soon to My Inner Circle (you can add to your content by upgrading your subscription ($5/month) to read the special information on Energy Implants - including how to heal, cleanse and clear them.
(Still) Chapter One — middle section. If you find something that does not make sense or does not read correctly, let me know. You can be my virtual editor!
DONAVON EXPERIENCES CHILDHOOD
The children of Laurel Run were typically full of mischief and vinegar having full reign in this small, unadorned burg. The buildings were sturdy but simple in construction, taking on an adequate quality. They were built for purpose, not beauty. Most buildings had paint peeling and were in much need of visual repair.
The anthracite coal belt, that Laurel Run was a part, was full of working-class people. A good percentage of them worked or had worked in the mines, or other jobs related to the support of the mining community. Most folks were not frivolous with their money or time, so the children struggled with how to keep life interesting.
Donovan Clarence was the product of this environment. He came from a deeply unhappy family. In the past five or six years of life, his parents neglected him in favor of more satisfying things. Mother and Father both were addicts, one on alcohol the other on harder stuff. Donovan never knew what his dad was taking, but it made him lethargic and complacent. He just sat on the couch – sometimes the television was on – sometimes not. But always he just sat with nothing to say. Or he just left the house and was gone for days at a time. Donovan never knew when his dad would come back, or if he ever would. He secretly wished his dad would just go away and never come back.
His mother was another story. She got mean when she was drinking. Donovan only recalls one time she was loving and kind. It must have been when he was around the age of 4 or 5 years. She baked a birthday cake for his father. She felt so good to be productive and happy. Her reddish blond hair was loose and free, and her eyes sparkled with heart-felt warmth as she looked at Donavon.
She let Donovan help her mix the cake. It was fun to watch the batter swirling around in the bowl. And of course, he got to lick the bowl. He felt cared for and loved at that moment.
But the phone rang, and everything changed. His mother started screaming and crying. Then slammed the phone down on the receiver. She went straight to the kitchen cupboard and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass. As she poured herself a drink, Donovan just stared at her. He couldn’t figure out why she had changed so much from a few minutes before.
He found other things to do in the kitchen, playing with some pans, scooting a chair around. But his mother just sat at the old wooden table, cried out loud and continued to drink. She got louder and louder, and soon her crying became yelling. And then screaming. More than half an hour had past, and smoke started coming from the stove.
The kitchen had an old gas stove that came with the rental they lived in, and the oven never worked properly. Donavon’s mother did not cook regular meals. She rarely ever baked. Since the pilot lights on the stove were inconsistent, she usually lite them and the oven with a match.
This time, the match had dislodged and ultimately caught leftover greasy gunk in the oven. It slowly smoldered and eventually caught fire.
The cake was burning! Donovan cried out in confusion and fear. He did not understand what was happening, but thought the cake was burning. In fact, it was the entire stove that was going up in smoke and flames. His mom grabbed the chair he was playing with and threw it against the wall, screaming at him to grow up and act like a man. He ran to a corner of the kitchen, shaking in fear. She opened the oven door and pulled out the cake pan.
The smoldering fire raged out the door and caught her on fire. Her blouse was torched very quickly, and her hands were badly burned.
The shrieking and screaming that followed caused Donovan to run out of the house. By that time one of the neighbors noticed something was wrong and came into the house. They successfully wrapped his mother in towels and blankets they found in the house and pulled her out of the house. Fire and emergency were called, and his mother was taken to the hospital. The fire was confined to the kitchen but had damaged much of it.
Donavon cowered behind a tree nearby. In his mind he wondered, “What did mom mean by growing up and acting like a man?” This one thing she said to him bothered him for a long time. He had no way of knowing that she really was saying it about his father.
Donovan stayed with neighbors until they could find his father. But nothing was ever the same after that. His mother continued to drink at the least little upset or argument. His father did nothing and sat in a state of stupor. And Donovan was left to fend for himself.
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As Donavon walked out of his house, the screen door slammed. He did not notice, but his mother yelled out about how inconsiderate he was, and the noise made her migraine worse. Every time she yelled at him another stab was made to his ego. It caused him to feel so low, with no self-esteem. After some point, it was inevitable that she would yell, so what did it matter?
But it did matter. However, the hurt was so down deep and hidden, that Donavon successfully ignored it. The subconscious was gathering these hurts, these demeaning insults. After some time, his mind tricked him into thinking that he really was no good, inconsiderate and did not care if he hurt his mother.
As he jumped off the stoop at this front door, he could feel the sole of his shoe hit a jagged stone. His cheap gym shoes were so worn and old that there was a hole in the bottom. His toes were crunched up at the top and it felt better to go barefoot than wear them. So, he pulled them off and threw them around the side of the house.
The hurt he felt in his heart showed itself on his face as a scowl. He kept this scowl for so long that by summer it became a permanent expression. As he walked onto the wooden sidewalk, the heels of his feet pounded loudly. They spoke louder that his scowl.
Some of the people in the area skirted him or moved to the other side of the street to avoid him. They have had difficult encounters with him in the past and learned to stay clear.
Sometimes Donavon entered a store or business with no intention of buying anything. He did not have any money anyway. But he went in to stir up trouble. He couldn’t get any attention at home, so this turned out to be the only way anyone would respond to him. It was sad to watch, but many business owners shewed him out before he could do any damage.
Mr. Johnson was different. He always greeted Donavon when he came in. but Donavon returned with a smart remark, or a shove to knock down merchandise. On occasion he would grab some fruit from the display and run out, thinking he was getting over on old man Johnson.
Donavon did not know Mr. Johnson always expected he’d crab a few things. He was familiar with Donavon’s home life and was concerned that he did not have enough nourishing food. He was happy to see Donavon eat his produce.
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JOSEPH WANDERING
Joseph still had the name tag pinned on his jacket that was prepared for him at the juvenile agency. Bits and pieces of the past day keep jumping into his head, but still he was unresponsive. There were sirens and flashing lights in the distance. But Joseph did not notice them. He continued to slowly stumble further away from the accident, the social worker, and the foster home she was taking him to.
The field of weeds he headed for turned out to be wildflower starts and growth of natural grasses. The new spring green colors were comforting and there was a soft feel under foot as he wandered aimlessly.
With the past week being mostly dry and the mid-afternoon sun beginning to warm the ground, Eastern Ohio started showing starts of trillium and Indian cucumber-root. Mayapple and blue phlox were all around. But it was the bush of honeysuckles along the fence rows that were good places to hide. And Joseph followed those as much as possible.
Joseph did not know where he was going but felt the warmth of the sunlight on his face. It felt good.
The young boy continued to wander until the sun went down. For a moment, he thought he saw a figure in the distance motion to him. He wasn’t sure, it seemed like just a shadow, but also felt real. He headed in that general direction. He never saw the figure again no matter how far he walked.
As the evening darkened, he sat down and saw a dirt road ahead of him. In the distance occasionally vehicles would go by. He still had glassy eyes and a blank look on his face when a horse-pulled wagon came by. It stopped several yards away and a few boys jumped out from the back.
Joseph could hear a grown man from the front of the wagon say, “Hurry up boys, we have a way to go yet.”
The boys were dressed in similar clothes. All had on black pants with suspenders, durable boots, and black hats.
The boys ran over to a nearby tree to relieve themselves, since there were no public toilets anywhere nearby. Joseph saw them but did not make a move. In a way, he felt apprehensive. So, he tried to sit still; maybe they would not see him.
The boys ran close to where Joseph was sitting, and he tried to hide. But they were playing and one of the boys accidently tripped and fell close to him. He jumped up.
The boys started laughing with excitement and included him in their play. He was slow to respond but accepted the challenge. When the man called the boys back to the wagon, Joseph followed them, and they helped him into the back with them.
During a few moments of lucid awareness, Joseph felt strangely familiar with the boys. Although he did not know them personally, he felt like he knew about them. Memories of other boys – boys from where he lived – came to his mind.
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Back home, before the fire, Joseph saw families with children dressed just like this. His family lived near an Amish farming community. And he saw boys and their fathers and uncles often driving their horse drawn wagons by his house.
The Amish community in Ohio close to where Joseph lived was known as the “Plain People”. Their farmlands are recognized as very productive in that area, and farming is their chosen way of life. They hold to a simpler, family-centered life, maintaining a rural environment. Many of the farmers there work their farms in a different way. They use horse-drawn power instead of engines, believing that modern equipment and automobiles would lead them to yearn for a fast paced, modern life like many Americans.
Traditional groups wear plain clothing styles. It is the simple, peaceful lifestyle of the plain people that keeps them as a distinct community.
To see the boys of this culture was a warm and comforting feeling for Joseph.
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The steady movement of the wagon, and the drone of the boys’ laughter, reassured Joseph and he fell asleep. The wagon carried him, the boys, and the men onward in an Eastern direction, to a relatives’ farm to help with needed repairs.
As Joseph lies in the wagon he twitches in his sleep. His dreams bring back unresolved memories of the auto trip from the Children’s Home, the accident, the fear, and wandering into the fields that night. The shadowed figure was in the dream and motioned to Joseph. The trauma of the past few days makes his body jerk.
As Joseph slept in the wagon, he rolled over on his side. As he did so, his name tag folds under the pressure of his body. His last name, Walker, is tucked under the rest of the tag and can no longer be seen. The tag now only reads “Joseph Allen”.
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Dreams filled his head of protectors surrounding him. Five cloaked beings were standing around him again, huddling in a protective way. He did not recognize them, and their faces were not visible. Although strange, it was a safe and warm feeling.
When the wagon finally stops it is extremely late at night. Joseph wakes with a start and has a blank stare for several minutes. He doesn’t remember where his was. The boys he has been riding with do not look familiar, and he feels lost.
The boys start to jump out of the wagon. Their father sees Joseph and thinks he must be a local kid from the area. “What are you doing here? Your parents must be worried! Go now, run home. Run home to your parents.”
Joseph jumps off, frightened, stumbles into the brush and wanders aimlessly. His thoughts turn to his parents and how much he misses them, his home, his life. That seemed like 100 years ago instead of two weeks. He slows down, wondering where he is and why he cannot be with his folks. There are too many questions and no answers.
His mind slows down and being in a stupor he sits up against a large tree stump. It only takes a minute for him to slump down and move into a deep sleep.
Thanks! I’ll send out more of the novel soon.
Melissa Leath writes A Mystics Journal on Substack. She supplies outrageous metaphysical babble/rant from a modern-day mystic's viewpoint and provides workshops about empowerment and psychic/metaphysical development. Her books Psychic Integrity, The Respected Practice of Modern-Day Mystics (Balboa Press, division of Hay House Publishing) and Does Your Child See Sparkles? are available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Melissa’s long-term study includes years of group development, platform mediumship, meditation, becoming a spiritual medium and minister and a BA in Metaphysical Counseling. She has worked with 10s of thousands of clients in USA and other countries, taught development classes for 12 years and settled into online workshops.
Please contact Melissa at melisssaleath@gmail.com.