Amazing Grace

Part III

A Sufi saying states: "Religion is like a garment. One has to know how it fits before one can take it off."

As a Christian, I was corrupted by believing that what I had was the absolute knowledge of life and death. I was burying my talent for dear life!

Emerging from this "cocoon of self-reflective awareness" was a VERY painful ordeal. The idea of abandoning Christianity altogether was simply too frightening to consider, so I proceeded by stages.

Time and again I tried to "resubmit" my mind to the authority of the Bible and the "conventional religion." But it was like trying to force myself to believe that 2 + 2 = 5. I simply could not live in a faith that could not successfully stand up to a single question or criticism.

So, as a result of my deep study of Conventional religion which evolved from my intense desire to get closer to God, I found myself in the position that I was unable to affirm much of what my entire life had been based upon. I might add that I was dragged kicking and screaming to this conclusion.

"Born again" living became a crutch that protracted immaturity and did not promote true healing and growth.

There are many opinions thrust upon me for my departure from Christianity. Those who are still Christians see me as damned or "expelled from Eden" for daring to eat of the Tree of Historical-Critical" knowledge. They pray for me regularly.

Those in the "scientific" camp see me as having lost my mind for continuing to believe that there IS something to be accessed in spiritual practice - that we CAN communicate with higher forces.

Those in the "metaphysical" camp who think that communication with higher forces IS possible and probable, condemn me as well because the Cassiopaean Transmissions do not promote another "relgiocult" of salvation and do not tout the "space brothers" as the friends and benefactors of mankind, but rather emphasize the condition that is historically accurate, which is that mankind is asleep and his only hope of awakening is to be "tried by fire" and made strong in his own will.

So, it becomes necessary for me to talk about the process of the "Coming of the Cassiopaeans" in some detail. What was the process? How did I go about it? What "precautions" did I take? What validations are there that the material is in any way accurate?

All of these questions need to be addressed, and they are questions I have heretofore not dealt with due to the complexity of the subject. But it is a story of MIRACLES and events of amazing GRACE. It deserves to be told.

Our correspondent wrote: "Conventional religion is simply a matter of openness to God, if he exists, and asking him to download some software, if he exists...."

Well, by this definition alone, I believe that the Cassiopaean Transmissions are, in fact, a "download" from God.

The communication was a result of my openness toward, and intense desire for, communication with God coupled with ASKING. Truly asking with no preconceived notions of how God should answer. No beliefs, no expectations, no demands that the answers conform to a prefab religious system.

After years of searching and study, I still believed that one could ASK and get an answer, that one could KNOCK and the door would be opened.

It is necessary, at this point, to go in another direction for a moment.

All my life I have been a "seeker" - a seeker of truth and meaning - because it is an essential thing to me. Some people are content to not know; but I have never been content - my curiosity burns at a white-hot heat almost constantly. And, behind it is a driving force that makes me unable to truly rest until I have discovered all I can about that which intrigues me - which is pretty much everything in existence!

During the years of study and search for God, I trained as a hypnotherapist and practiced and taught classes in hypnosis, relaxation techniques, and guided meditation for many years.

During the same period I was employed as a social worker for the State Department of Health and Rehabilitative Services. This gave me many opportunities for "continuing education" classes in psychology as well as a theater to observe and work with people who had severe problems both psychologically and in terms of simply dealing with life.

Many of these problems were concerned with deep philosophical issues, though the victims were, for the most part, unaware of these questions.

In a sense, it could be said that I sought to solve problems for others because I could not solve the most basic problem of my own existence - that no matter how hard I studied, what I tried, or where I turned, I could not find satisfaction for this "empty" feeling inside that I perceived as a need for God - for meaning and purpose - and to be content in my faith.

I studied other religious systems, mysticism, the paranormal and occult, and history in vast numbers of books, looking for, in effect, the "Footprints" of God.

Throughout my life I also had dreams and impressions of SOMEONE. I would awaken at night with the articulated thought reverberating in my mind: "where is he???" and feel utterly lost and bereft.

There was no rational explanation for this and perhaps much of my seeking was to find out what might be "wrong" with me that I felt such an "absence" in my life no matter how I sought to fill it with activity, family, and all the accoutrements of modern society.

No matter what I did, no matter who I was with, I felt alone.

And I had repeating dreams that all circled around a theme of tragedy and loss.

One of the earliest of these repeating dreams occurred when I was about 7 years old. This dream was of being taken by a group of uniformed men to a place in a wooded area and shown a grave with a baby in it. The baby's hands and feet had been cut off and I was told that this would be done to me, too. (Now, WHERE would a seven year old get an idea like this?)

A later dream (some years later) expanded on the theme by showing the grave with little hands and feet barely covered by the dirt accompanied by the sensation that these were loved ones.

In another dream, I was married to someone I loved very much and to whom I felt a powerful connection. In this dream, there was a sensation of danger and that somehow, I was the cause of this threat. I would see my husband leaving to go on a journey, and then a group of soldiers began shooting at him and I could see his body being cut to bloody pieces by the bullets.

The idea of my being "responsible" for this event, even if unwittingly, was emphasized in another dream. I knew that I was German and he was Jewish and it was German Nazis (members of my race) who were killing him, thereby making the connection of my feelings of "guilt."

I would always awaken from these very REAL dreams soaked in a cold sweat, with my heart pounding, and crying in soul deep grief.

At the same time, in my ordinary life, I had a REAL problem. The problem related to a SERIOUS distrust of ALL authority to the extent that I could not even allow my children to attend public schools. I would stay in such a state of "panic" anytime they were away from me that it was almost pathological! To put it mildly, I was known as an extremely over-protective mother!

The good side of this was that I became an obsessively thorough "researcher" into any idea that was presented to me as fact. I quite simply did not believe anything simply because somebody said it was true and had to establish the facts for myself.

And there was my obsession with the holocaust. I would try to resist it because it caused debilitating depression.

I read the first book about WWII when I was 11, and it was about the Polish Resistance in Warsaw. My Aunt played the piano and I regularly pestered her to play the "Warsaw Concerto" which had an effect on me like no other piece of music. This was probably due to the suggestive power of the name of the piece, but even that has a root in past and later events, as we shall see.

So, as time went by, my hopes of finding my "someone" faded and part of this was because I believed in the psychological interpretations of my "tendre" and became convinced that I must "be happy" in order to "find happiness."

So, I shoved my dreams under the rug and married a man who was very religious because I saw this as a "stabilizing" thing. However, it turned out to be the weapon of my destruction which is another story altogether and not relevant.

My husband moved us to a place in the country where I was completely isolated. After the birth of my fourth child, I was completely bedridden due to pelvic injuries. It had been my habit for the previous years to stay so busy that I did not really THINK about things. But now, I could do nothing BUT think! And read. And write what I was thinking.

As I was getting better, I finally decided that I had to get this "holocaust business" out of my system. I had some "Time/Life" books about WWII with lots of photos; I spent days, even weeks, poring over these photos, examining each face over and over, looking into eyes; with no understanding of what I was looking for.

I told myself that I was looking for God. I needed to find out how such a horror could have come to be in the realm of an all-wise, loving God. What was this "evil" that existed in our world that opposed God? How could ANYTHING oppose God? What was the nature of this "rebellion?" What was the core, the seed, the reflection of the evil these people were looking at. I wanted to find something in their eyes, their expression, that would tell me something about how such a thing could come to be in a so- called civilized world.

I cried and agonized over these pictures for weeks or months. Every little child was my child. Every woman was me or my mother. Every man was... HIM.

Then I had THE dream. It was a replay of the dream of my husband being shot by the soldiers, only in this dream I ran after him crying "Wait for me! I am coming!" and I stood up on the rail of a balcony reaching my hands to the sky, and stepped off.

And a voice that I have experienced several times in my life spoke to me clearly as I awakened telling me that this WAS my past life.

I understood then that I had taken my own life in despair over the loss of my husband and family, and my grief and longing, frozen like a snapshot in that moment of supreme anguish and death, had been carried over into this life.

So, I KNEW. And, it was really a terrible thing. I felt like my whole life was a lie.

I KNEW why I could not feel about things as other people did. I KNEW this husband of mine who had been taken from me in such terrible circumstances; I knew him so deeply inside my soul that all life was empty without him.

And, I understood what a terrible thing I had done to my husband of the present life and WHY he needed to constantly hurt and punish me. In some way he knew that when I went to sleep every night that the last thing I would think is "Where is he? Where is THE ONE?"

But, there I was... married, with children and obligations that it was not in my nature to turn away from. I was committed to the circumstances of this life and there was no choice but to go on and live as fully and well as I could and hope that in some future life, I would find "HIM" and my soul would be healed.

I submitted to the circumstances of my life and did the best I could. And because I so desperately needed to find peace and contentment with life as it was, I began to study and practice meditation in a serious way which led to a number of REALLY strange experiences involving PK, probable abductions, etc. which are not relevant to the present story.

Because of my deeply ingrained Christian upbringing, I continued to study the Bible for clues, long after I had given up the idea that it was the "inspired Word of God." I considered it in the same light as other "psychic literature," worthy of examination and comparison. As I studied, I became focused on the book of Revelation and the comparison of these prophecies to other "channeled" teachings.

During this period, many wonderful revelations came to me and I wrote a book at the dictation of these visions and entitled it "The Noah Syndrome." The central theme was "finding the Spiritual Ark" in order to achieve Metamorphosis to the promised restoration of the Edenic State. I mention this because it is strange that I became so focused on "finding the Spiritual Ark," and I did, indeed, later "find my Ark."

The almost incredible events of this "channeling" process of "The Noah Syndrome" will also have to be told elsewhere, but I will mention in passing that things which were "given" to me to know back in 1985 and 1986 are now becoming popular ideas in metaphysics as well as in scientific circles.

But, back to the narrative: I had inherited a property with my mother and brother which was my mother's home. It was a large piece of acreage and it was becoming increasingly apparent that my mother was no longer able to maintain it. It was agreed to sell it which meant that I had to find a new house for my mother to live in. While I was house shopping for her, I stumbled on this wonderful huge, old house that was within my budget even AFTER buying a house for my mother.

The house needed renovations, but I just loved it, including the fact that it was in the center of the old part of a nearby town. Living in the country had been fine during my period of illness and enforced study and meditation, but I needed to be more centrally located for my work. Commuting had become an ordeal that was inhibiting my full recovery.

My husband was happy living in a rural setting because it was close to everything he was interested in, but the children and I had had enough. As a result of being so far away from everything, we seldom did anything other than what was necessary. Artistic and cultural pursuits were limited because it was so far to drive to get anywhere.

So, we had a terrible argument and for the first time in our marriage, I stood up for myself and the children and told him I was buying the house whether he liked it or not, and the children and I would move there and he could come or not as he liked!

And, I did.

Well, the relationship simply deteriorated from that point on, but in the new house I was able to do a lot of extra things that had been denied to me when we lived so far out in the woods. I now had more time for other things. I made new friends, expanded my hypnotherapy client base, and also was able to respond to requests for consulting for a firm of attorneys and private investigators.

This last item was a super school for learning to discern between truth and falsehood and also learning ways and means of digging up or eliciting information that was hidden or layered under lies and confusion. I can't talk too much about the range and type of the work because it was and continues to be confidential, but it gave me an excellent opportunity to expand my skills in dealing with "aberrant" thinking and certain types of situations that followed patterns of antisocial behavior.

I also expanded my repertoire into the field of Spirit Releasement Therapy as written about by Dr. William Baldwin.

Prior to this time, I had dealt with what I would call "minor" possession type situations, but I had addressed them in the standard clinical modes. At one point, I innovated and serendipitously effected a "release" of a six year old boy. After becoming aware of Dr. Baldwin's work, I realized that I had sort of naturally fallen into this type of therapy as a result of this "innovation" which arose out of frustration that the standard modes were not working.

Then, my youngest child became ill. She was so sick that I was afraid that she would die, and I decided to put everything on hold to be with her. I reduced the activities that were draining and stressful and began to think about doing something that took less time and energy so that I could devote myself to the care of the baby. We were used to two incomes, and we certainly were going to continue to need such with mounting medical expenses that were not covered by insurance.

In the daily paper, I read an ad for a scriptwriter. I had no real writing experience except in writing case narratives, business reports and legal documents, (and a channeled book) but I figured I could write anything, and I had heard that such work paid well in terms of time and energy expenditure. Besides, I was curious as to who, in this backwater area, would be wanting a scriptwriter for television! So, I called. And that is how I met Freddie.

Cassiopaeans Part 4

Aliens Home Page

THINK ABOUT IT -  MENU PAGE

www@cassiopaea.org
Copyright © 1997-1999 Cassiopaea org. All rights reserved.