There have been occasions, a very few, when I have journeyed intentionally; not with drugs, I don’t do them. Most times it is something that occurs out-of-the-blue. I don’t know why that is but I do wonder if it is more likely that this experience that I am writing in, is just an otherworld for me. Maybe it is for everyone. Probably is.
That this place is a world that I just visit makes more sense to me. I don’t fit in it, in lots of ways. I find communicating here challenging. Words don’t flow from me when I speak, nor when I write, like they do from other people. It can take me several hours to write an article sometimes. ‘Literally‘ took me, I think, 7 hours. It feels like I’m writing all the time, from beginning to end, but I can’t be. It’s the same when I’m interviewed. I think I’m answering eloquently but when I listen back there are ums and ahs and pauses…and I’m whacked (in several senses of the word). When I give talks at events I’m exhausted after them as well; it’s likeI drift away…to somewhere else. (See photo left – taken by a medium who was in the audience.) I’m not surprised that I don’t get many invitations. This unpredictable energy acrobatics and behaviour is not what this world expects, especially from an interviewee or presenter…and radio and television shows are not keen on the frequential interference and disruptions that are likely to arrive with me either. Understandably, they are concerned that listeners will assume that their show platforms are not up to scratch. In one instance virtually a whole recording for a show just vanished. Fortunately I was being interviewed by a friend who knows me, knows my life, and she tried again…and this interview went very well:
Mary Rodwell’s book that is mentioned in the interview:
My current book on my experiences:
…and with some amazing synchronicity, that I didn’t expect…my friend, the fabulously talented, Dicken, has just now uploaded the song that I mention in Dogged Days. The one that I played on my record player one day and just the music came out:
Anyway, back to Misty (First published on my former website, Otherworld Journeys, on 11th April 2012):
Several times other people have shared my experiences. This is one of those occasions; it happened on the evening of 8th April 2012 and it refers to a past life of mine that I was not aware of.
She came one evening, I was with two female friends.
She said that she came because of me. Merlin had allowed it. She said that I knew her in a past life in 1200 (AD). She was an Inca from a tribe called Massa…something…that I called her ‘Misty’. Her real name in her language meant ‘The one with clouds in her eyes; she who dreams alone.’
She had loved me, she said, but her family objected. When I went away they cut out her heart because she would not give it to another. Since then she has been trapped in another world until someone else she recognised from back then (who I also know now, and was there) had inadvertently provided a spirit path to this time, to me.
She said that my name was Ramle – pronounced Ramool. I asked her what the name meant and she said that it meant, ‘Warrior of the gods’ because that is what you were.
“A warrior?”I answered in surprise. “I can only recall one past life as a warrior, but that was in Britain, a long, long, time ago. (Usually, in the few times that I have lived past childhood, I have been something more mystical. I cannot recall any lives where I have died a natural death, and as far as I know I have never lived as long as I have in this lifetime.)
“I will explain why you were called this”, she said. “It was because you had magical powers in our world, and you used them in battle.”
“You still have them”, she added… “but you don’t use them…you will do though”.
She said that she had been released from her otherworld captivity only one month ago, and had been trying to speak to me ever since…but my mind had been too busy. We spoke some more and then it was time for her to leave. I asked her if we would speak again and she said that she would visit me in my dreams the next night, the 9th April.
She said that she would come as a falcon…because Merlin would not allow her to come as herself. When she was about to leave I could feel something tight around my head, around my forehead.
I awoke in the morning of the 10th April again with the same tightness around my forehead, like a band. She did visit me.
I know that because I remember just dropping off to sleep when I felt something behind me. I looked around and laying on the pillow next to me, surrounded by light, was a falcon’s head, about the size of a human female’s head, its eyes were open, staring at me, its dark brown and gold neck feathers splayed…and then I fell asleep. I cannot recall anything else yet nor what was said or done…nothing else.
I may not hear from her again, I don’t know for sure but she did tell me that she would be very busy now, helping her people.
© Ellis Taylor