Here's a transcript of a conversation I had with the entities the other day. I was on the train and pretty bored, so I took out my notepad and wrote down questions. Sometimes the answers were verbal, sometimes they were in the form of vivid mental images.
MC: Why do people suffer? Specifically, Why isn't it possible for a healer to fix people, remove all their pain and suffering?
A: If we were meant to live without suffering, our spirits would have gone into the rocks or the trees. But we are mortal and chose suffering.
MC: Who's this, then, the royal we?
A: *Laughter* (They seem to be implying that they were once people like us, but I'm not sure.)
MC: Okay, I was just saying.
A: Yet suffering idly, that is a wrong thing.
MC: You've mentioned this. Suffering is a lesson, right?
A: Yes. We learn from suffering. Idle suffering is anathema to us. (Image: A child reaches out for a bright candle-flame, then flinches back and sucks her finger. Next image: A mother shaking, slapping her child in a fury. I took this to represent the difference between suffering as a lesson and idle suffering.)
MC: So limiting suffering, that's a Good Thing, right?
A: (Emotion: humourous parody of disapproval)
MC: Okay, okay, sorry.
* * *
So there you have it. Suffering = Bad. I'm hoping we'll get to the fractal quantum genius stuff as I get better at communicating with the guides. You never know.
Okay.
This is, to say the least, really bloody embarrassing.
Long story short: Back in the early Spring of this year, I got a reiki attunement. I had my reasons, okay? My reiki teacher kept going on and on about how there were these entities (which she chose to call angels) that would turn up and help us out while we were healing. We might even find ourselves contacted by our spirit guides. Yeah, right, I thought. I'd previously attempted to contact my spirit guides on several occasions over the years. My search had been rewarded with a handful of pleasant but blatantly fake experiences which culminated in an astral butt-kicking of epic proportions when the being that claimed to be my guide turned out to be something else entirely.
So anyway, back to the reiki. During my training I had a whole bunch of odd experiences; feeling hands laid on me while I was the subject of healing, having my wrists grasped and my hands moved to where healing was needed most, etcetera. I started secretly 'talking' to the entities concerned, asking them for advice and help and, y'know, stuff. Things started to happen. I'd be walking home in the rain, thinking about how great it would be not to have to walk home in said rain, and a friend would happen to drive by and offer me a lift. Stuff like that. Gradually it got so that I was asking the entities for stuff on my public blog; they seemed to like the acknowledgement. So far they've given me pretty much everything I've asked for (except that damn job u slackers).
They've got clearer and clearer in my mind over time. One seems to be male and stands behind me while I'm zapping a client. He's the really
pushy powerful one. The other one seems to be female and likes to hover up by the ceiling while I'm working. (Oh, they're laughing now because male and female are meaningless terms to them and so on and so forth. I call 'em like I see 'em, guys.)
And then they started getting all pushy and asking me for a weblog of their very own. I was loath to give it to them at first, since their communications are generally nonverbal in nature. Even if they get more talkative, there's always a danger that they'll decide to dictate a message of universal peace and harmony or something through me, which would just kill my street-cred.
But they did get me all that stuff including the digital camera, and they do seem to want to get out there and talk to people. I decided to bite the bullet and give them their own blog to play with. (Look, I know you said green. I'll make it be green in a minute, okay? I've got to look up the HTML colours and change the template and everything.)
As to what they are... I really don't know. Angels, aliens, ghosts, my higher self, figments of my diseased mind. They either can't or won't tell me. It sort of doesn't matter what they are; either what they say stands up or it doesn't, either it's valid and useful, or it isn't.
Whatever.
All I can say is: there'd better be a bestseller in this for me, you spooky perverts.
