reply to post by woodwytch
reply to post by woodwytch
This next is a little bit disconcerting.
Several years ago now, I embarked on some experimental 'self improvement' stuff, based on instruction in a book I'd bought. It involved learning
basic use of a pendulum in order to communicate with one's subconscious mind, for the purpose of removing negative suggestions picked up through
life. It all seemed quite logical and as is sometimes the case, I didn't bother reading through to the end. Instead, carried away by enthusiasm,
constructed a pendulum and got stuck into it. Didn't even realise there may be need for caution.
I was scrupulous in my use of the pendulum, I should add. Wasn't interested in hearing what I wanted to hear, or in fooling myself. The truth or
nothing at all was my approach. So be assured, I was damn honest in my use of that pendulum, possibly excessively so.
Shortly prior, I'd been reading about Huna philosphies, so embarking on communication with my subconscious didn't seem such a way-out thing to be
doing, although a year or so earlier I may have dismissed the concept.
I took to pendulum useage like a duck to water -- felt an immediate affinity with pendulum work .. it felt and came naturally.
I stuck to the instructions by the letter and I was painstakingly courteous towards my subconscious (personified in this instance by the pendulum) ..
always prefaced questions with: ' Do you wish to respond to this question at this time?', etc. Of course, the pendulum is simply a weight on a
length of thread or string -- it's just a tool, a means of communication, like a telephone. I add this for the sake of those who may read this and
who may have gained the impression elsewhere that the pendulum is a 'mystical' object which 'transmits information' or 'has the power to contact
spirits' etc. No, it's just a weight on a bit of thread, nothing more. A blob of old chewing-gum on a bit of cotton thread is a pendulum .. in
fact, a length of mucus dribbling from someone's nose is a pendulum.
For a while, I pursued my objective quite clinically. I had my questions prepared and written down in front of me and noted the responses
meticulously. As in general conversation however, one question leads to another, and a response can provoke a complete change of tack. And this is
what happened ... I verged off on a tangent with my questions in response to one of the answers. That's when it got strange.
I'd asked the significance of an unwelcome but obsessive attachment I had for a person .. an obsession which at that time had already continued
through many years. I didn't particularly like the person, but was unable to break the hold they had over me. I wanted to know why.
Before me on the table lay a hand-drawn circle I'd created for use with the pendulum. It was divided pizza-style into many segments. In each
segment was written a letter of the alphabet. Holding the unmoving pendulum over the centre of this circle, I asked the questions. In response, the
pendulum swung to various letters, which in turn I wrote down. In this way, words were formed. Remembering of course that the words emerged from my
sub(super) consciousness ... not the pendulum itself, which was only a tool, a conduit. When the pendulum completed a word, it hung motionless, often
taking me by surprise, because I was fully consumed with writing down the letters without trying to 'make sense of them' at the time.
I received a message, one letter at a time, advising me that 'In the life before, you were wed.' There were further details of this alleged
previous life .. a drab and hard life. Our occupations were menial and difficult. Further details emerged, requiring the use of various swiftly
drawn circles, divided pizza-style and with each segment containing the name of a country. Other diagrams contained the names of cities within what
emerged as the nominated country. Others contained dates, months, years. Etc. Hours disappeared in what felt like minutes. I had pages of
scribbled notes in piles. Kept them in a folder. Returned to pendulum work any opportunity I had when alone.
Sometimes, via the pendulum, my sub(super)consciousness revealed an unexpected sense of humour. ' Are you making a joke? ' I would ask. In
response, the pendulum would swing to 'Yes'. It was a really strange experience and felt very much as if I were in communication with a separate
and invisible entity with whom I shared a closeness. It was addictive. I suspect I burned up enormous amounts of energy. I wanted more and more
information. I jotted it all down. Told myself that gaining it while I could was imperative and later, I would analyse it. I trusted the source.
After all, as far as I was concerned, that source was myself .. my sub(super)conscious mind. Could there be 'anyone' more trustworthy? Basically, I
fell a little bit in love with 'myself' for a while.
In this way, via the pendulum and with painstaking exactitude, I was 'informed' that I had lived in a specific location, several centuries earlier.
Was told the manner of my then-spouse's death and of my own. My then-name and that of my spouse were provided. The information was extremely
precise, even the precise cause of my death and the number of years my spouse survived me. It had been a drab and very ordinary existence. I had
died alone. My spouse discovered me several hours later. There was a suggestion that one or both of us had made a 'vow' ... that the relationship
was being continued (now, many centuries later) as a result of this.
Naturally, with a conscious and sub(super)consciousness existing together within the same mind, there can be no secrets. This posed a problem. If I
consciously believed the information I was receiving was false or even doubtful, then my sub(super)consciousness would immediately know and would be
offended. So I strove to silence doubt and take what was offered at face value, at least for the time being. Remembering of course that at the time,
I was consciously highly-sceptical (to say the least) about reincarnation. Finally, aware that the subterfuge was futile, I admitted to my new
friend, SuperConsciousness, that I obviously had my doubts, despite trusting its intentions. Crazy situation, although it made sense at the time.
My SuperConsciousness had a problem with spelling every now and then and it was a bit hesitant regarding precise dates. It tried hard, often offering
alternative spelling for a location. But it refused to be pushed. On one occasion when I well-meaningly attempted to second-guess it, it dug in its
heels and made sure I understood that 'this' and not 'that' was the correct information. My SuperConscious Mind had a mind of its own, I
discovered. No -- it's true. We had a disagreement .. a situation where I wrote 'tomaytoe' (sort of thing) and it corrected me and let me know it
was 'tomaRto' ! That was a sobering moment, I can tell you. Our SuperConscious Minds DO have minds of their own.
They also have their own personality, even though they're invisible. I learned this several days into the exercise when the atmosphere suddenly
changed and I sensed immediately that someone else was there.
(continued next post)