>>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

This is a forum for those who want to share the Akashic Construct, and their experiences of it. The AC is a structured meditation designed specifically to enable contact with celestials, and also humans for the purposes of teaching or healing.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by DJKENZ »

George wrote:Hi Margaret,
These Midwayers will need to have a severe talking to for not turning up. :evil:
And yes, likely there is something you've not done right, but I don't have your note now, so please send me a PM instead of an email, or get back to us on this thread.
Tell me what you are doing. By now you should be hearing from one whilst you're both walking in the park.

Hugs........
me
Ha! ha! ha! too funny George.
I have the same problem as Margaret. :duh: perhaps I too am not doing something right.
Been using the AC CD for about 2 months now & haven't had anyone contact me for healing nor a celestial visit or any other memorable experience. By the way, I love your voice George.
And the "That's Good, That's Fine" lingo of yours is becoming my motto!

Note, that I use track 2 (Stable Alpha) to take me deep but due to the ending where you're waking
the subject up, I'm having to get out of my trance and hit NEXT on the CD-player to move to the
3rd track (the Akashic Construct) so I'm considering going into the studio & editing that portion
out & merging track 2 & 3 to have a seamless deepening before you to take me into the AC.

I'm using it when going to bed at night, I can usually stay awake till the end of track 3 but sometimes,
I remove my headphones off when nobody emerges from the elevator.

I also wonder if our mind can indeed use the visual Barometer to correctly set the Alpha frequency...?

Any guidance is greatly appreciated.

Love & Blessings,
-Kenz-
:salut:
-------------------------------------
"Every person is a birth-less, timeless, immortal, invisible, indescribable AWARENESS
that decided to take birth & become a time-bound, mortal, visible, describable CONSCIOUSNESS." -DJKenz
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

Hi Kenz,

Existing belief principles can get in the way at times. Keep track on the thoughts that stream in during meditation -- some of them may not be yours at all.

Those who deal with logic day in and day out can have a tough journey.
I also wonder if our mind can indeed use the visual Barometer to correctly set the Alpha frequency...?
Your TA knows precisely what level you are at, so your soul will know -- 9, 10, or 11 say, and in some way the number should come to you, visually or fleetingly imagined.

It would be handy if the Midwayers landed with a rolled up newspaper in hand, hit you over the head with it, and announced in a booming voice, "I'm here, mortal." I doesn't happen that way. :(

God bless.....
George.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by DJKENZ »

Existing belief principles can get in the way at times. Keep track on the thoughts that stream in during meditation -- some of them may not be yours at all.
Those who deal with logic day in and day out can have a tough journey.
Your TA knows precisely what level you are at, so your soul will know -- 9, 10, or 11 say, and in some way the number should come to you, visually or fleetingly imagined.

It would be handy if the Midwayers landed with a rolled up newspaper in hand, hit you over the head with it, and announced in a booming voice, "I'm here, mortal." I doesn't happen that way. :(
hee hee hee. :lol:
Nice one Dr.G!
I agree with you on every point and find it fascinating that the TA can set the frequency...sounds logical too.

Thank you for your guidance.
-------------------------------------
"Every person is a birth-less, timeless, immortal, invisible, indescribable AWARENESS
that decided to take birth & become a time-bound, mortal, visible, describable CONSCIOUSNESS." -DJKenz
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by sammy »

It would be handy if the Midwayers landed with a rolled up newspaper in hand, hit you over the head with it, and announced in a booming voice, "I'm here, mortal." I doesn't happen that way.
That is EXACTLY what I need! :lol:

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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

:lol:

You are doing the "drifting" down of brain and mind.

Both the TA and soul know at what level you are.

The Midwayers call the soul the Mid Mind. It has a mind.

Cheers.......
G.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

The Midwayers can enhance brain development in the fetus, and therwith that brain can support Mother Nebadonia's mind endowments better.
George,
Could you elaborate more on this topic? I know you stated this a while back (last November), but Holly and I are pregnant and find this supremely interesting. Is there a way I can find out more? I am a 7 month AC practitioner and a beginning progress healer, and I have yet to meet a midwayer, although I have become sensitive and mindfully aware when he/she/their presence is around me. How do I communicate more directly regarding their help? I thank God every day for our healthy baby and His overcare. I am open to learning more so our children will have the physical attributes and potential to bring more light into the next generation.

Kind Regards and Love,
Phillip
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

Hi Phillip,

I can tell you what I learned.

According to Dr. Mendoza it was the Blue Man, mostly situated in Western Europe that misused their under age females to such a degree that "babies were having babies," and the race went downhill to quite a degree. The results over time included a reduced brain volume, and psychological damage, mostly in the realm of psych disorders.

The superior Adamites and Andites that moved from Asia directly north, and then west to the Scandinavian countries, later wiped out the blue race to their south -- the males, not all the females -- and so European whites inherited a string of psych disorders not prevalent in other races -- entirely absent in some !!!

Psych disorders tend to be genetic and run in certain families.

My request to the Midwayers was for them to "do something" about a young couple's offspring, which were sure to inherit Dependent Personality Disorder (big time) from one of the partners. It was Dr. Mendoza who visited the lady during her pregnancies and worked on the unborn.

The children have very high IQ's !!!

There is at least one transmit from the good doctor on this. Go to the transmits and type in 'fetus'. I'll try find it later, can't do it now.

Computer problems.
God bless.....
George.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

Here's that transmit:

http://board.1111angels.com/viewtopic.p ... 6&p=138227

The offspring earlier referred to are far above (expected) IQ, reliably because of Midwayer efforts.
There is no sign of the dreaded Disorder. IMO a miracle.

G.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

George,
That was a fascinating transmission. I would be extremely happy to have and teach a child/children with such gifts. Holly and I feel blessed anyway. We just continue to visualize and pray to our Heavanly Father for a healthy baby. If we were both entrusted to raise children with these gifts, it would be hard to describe the joy we would share in doing so. Thank you for digging that out for me. I had also asked for information when I was in the AC today, then I was given a curious visual cue, and now I have returned to find your post. Just fantastic...... Thanks for all of your time that you give.
Much Love,
Phillip
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

Hi Phillip,

Indeed, there is much you and Holly can do to allow the yet unborn to absorb "good stuff" whilst he (I presume) has little else to do but to grow and absorb praise, love, music and encouragement.

In a sense it's a pity we generally, 'finally' learn how to bring up kids properly when we are basically too old to have them. :)

There is much to be said for the old ways of farm life, where three, even four generations stayed together,
and passed on 'the secrets of life.'

God bless....
George.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by sammy »

In a sense it's a pity we generally, 'finally' learn how to bring up kids properly when we are basically too old to have them.
I have 2 friends now that are Grandmothers....Their favorite quote is "Why can't we skip having kids and move straight to this part?!!!" All the love without all the stress!

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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

Hi Sammy,

They'll be doing A LOT more of it "up there." :shock:

Hugs....
me
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Post by sammy »

Seriously???? Awesome! Something to look forward to!

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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

In a sense it's a pity we generally, 'finally' learn how to bring up kids properly when we are basically too old to have them.
:D Then we are very fortunate to still have some youth about us, then. 8) Thanks for the other advice too, George.
Dr. Mendoza mentioned that parents are normally given "advance notice" if a precocious child would be coming. Do you know in what forms the advance notice may arrive? That transmission certainly has my curiosity.
Also, I have a question regarding an author and a seemingly pioneer hypnotherapist named Dr. William J. Baldwin. Only in the last 7 months have I begun my own personal "education," and the AC has been a huge part of it. Also, I feel I was led one of Dr. Baldwin's books, "Healing Lost Souls", and I am right in the middle of it now. Can you or anyone else confirm why I am so incredibly fascinated by his healing methodology? Should I be reading it? My wife is a littly wary of some of the content, and it is important to me that I make good decisions regarding what I read and learn, as my brain is acting as a knowledge sponge right now. Thanks so much.... :finger:
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by George »

Hi Phillip,

I don't read much other than psychology-related stuff, but one thing is wrong IMO: Souls don't get lost.

There was not a Guardian Angel created stupid enough to lose the soul he/she was responsible for,
because on their ability to so care for souls depends their ascension.

Maybe astral selves is a better name for what William J. Baldwin talks about.

Your soul is like your angel's life's savings, bank account, money jar. :)

<<< Do you know in what forms the advance notice may arrive? >>>

No. It varies. All kinds of ways.

This was (is) a VERY important kid. . . . This is from one of my books.

Jasmin Chand Singh

The little girl with long, pitch-black hair walked right up to George Mathieu who was leisurely inspecting the family’s back yard vegetable garden and smoking a cigarette. This miniature version of Jasmin Chand Singh, mother of two, was glaring up at George with a disapproving look in her big, deep brown eyes.

“Smoking is bad for your health,” she warned the grown man in a most genuine tone of voice. “It will hurt your lungs and then you die.”

“Yeah...” George agreed. He found it difficult not to smile at that sincere remark. “How old are you, nipper?” he asked. “Bet you don’t know,” he teased.

“Four-and-a-half,” she answered immediately. “And you had better put out that cigarette and come inside. There will soon be food on the table that you have never tasted before.”

Here was a smart little girl, telling him what to do and when to do it, and on his first visit to her home. But Barnard was not about to stub out his smoke yet. “So, all right then. You do know how old you are,” Barnard grudgingly conceded. Then he added, “Okay. Fine! I can live with that. But I bet you don’t know your date of birth.”

“I... do... so,” was her response. And then she told him the precise date and time.

“You are a twenty-two master number,” George told her after a quick calculation. “It gives me exceedingly great pleasure, Miss Chand Singh, to inform you that you are a very important person.”

“I know that!” she responded with an air that implied he should have instantly perceived that obvious fact on arrival at her home.

He stubbed out his cigarette and smilingly followed the cute little muppet to where the food was waiting.

* * * * *

The muppet was right. George, indeed, had never tasted any of those dishes. They were spicy, but they were good.

An even smaller version of Jasmin Chand Singh had been watching George Mathieu from the dwelling’s window as he wandered around her garden. Barnard had looked up a number of times and noted the little one’s keen, spying eyes following his every move. Surprisingly, she now chose to desert her parents at their end of the table to sit right next to him, sparing him a big grin each time he glanced down at her. Here was an alert, daring, sociable and fun-loving little kid.

“I am much, much bigger than you are,” Barnard informed her of the obvious, and with a smile, tried to elicit a response from her.

“Yes, you are,” she agreed, so clearly spoken for one so young.

“Might you perhaps know how old you are?” Barnard asked. “I should think you do not know, but perhaps...” He was enjoying the interaction with this wise, confident little girl. So was everyone else in the room.

All eyes were on the child as she placed her spoon on the table and held up three stubby little fingers for all to see, then she pulled one finger down and gave her logical account for that unusual move. “Nearly three,” she explained to George.

“Eight weeks to go, George,” Jasmin chimed in with a laugh. “We sometimes suspect she may be counting the days. There’s a new three-wheeler bicycle coming to make her acquaintance on her birthday.”

Barnard was rather surprised by the ability to communicate of one still so tiny. He hesitated to pose his next question, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I don’t even know my own date of birth,” he confessed, trying hard to show an honest face, “I forgot. It’s long, long ago. So, I suppose you could be forgiven for not knowing yours.”

Amazingly she understood, and knew the date, the year as well. Even more remarkably, here was yet another twenty-two master number, and with a configuration of numbers much like that of her older sister.

“You, young lady,” Barnard explained to the child, “are also a very, very important person, just like your sister.”

The child instantly agreed, nodded vigorously, and rewarded him with another big smile. But Barnard had long ago done their parents’ numbers, and what struck him most of all was that the children’s configurations had nothing in common with either Jasmin’s, or her husband’s. They could be throw-backs to the grandparents, he mused.

Soon, the meal was finished. A notepad and pen was found, and Barnard poured himself over the figures. The birth dates of both sets of grandparents were known and could easily be related to their respective children — the girls’ father, and their mother. But both kiddies had nothing in common with any of their four grandparents either. It seemed the girls didn’t belong to the family, but they sure belonged together.

Jasmin seemed to discern Barnard’s inability to make sense out of the numerological Chand Singh family tree. “They are definitely ours,” she explained with a nervous laugh, “not adopted.”

Barnard threw the notepad onto the table, leaned back in the chair, but kept staring at the numbers. A pair of twenty-two master number kids. In a two-kids-only family? And both of them all brain and mind? he mused. Nothing adds up. Ten... twenty thousand to one. Who knows? And the rest.

“They... are very smart, Jasmin,” he assured the mother. “They are all brain and mind. And if you think you know how smart, I’ll tell you to forget everything you reckon you know about them. You’ve seen nothing yet.”

What are these clever little babies doing here? he questioned of his own mind.

“But for to teach the one who is to come,” came a loud voice. It was ringing in Barnard’s right ear, but as always, no one else had picked up on it.

No one ever flaming well does! he reminded himself angrily. Settle down! Relax. He did, and then he was seeing the child.

There stood a little boy, about four years of age, waiting for Jasmin to take him to playschool. There was a full-color image of the child, projected across the low table.

“All brain and mind?” Jasmin remarked. She grabbed up the note pad and asked, “Do you mean the numbers you’ve circled here? George? Eh, George!” And as Barnard finally nodded that that was it, she said, “They’re all circled!” Then, more pensively, “They should have been boys.”

It seemed girls weren’t required to have brains and minds, according to the mother. There was no mistaking her heart-felt disappointment at her not yet having borne a son. It was something George Mathieu would never understand, but he knew that for whatever reason, it was typical of her race to want boy children.

“Your next child will be a boy,” Barnard promised her calmly.

There was an instant look of agony on Jasmin’s face, no response.

“Suit yourself, girl,” Barnard told her. “I just saw him, clear as day.”

She suddenly looked hopeful, intrigued. “Are you sure?” she asked.

It was Jodi Barnard who answered her in his stead. “George never misses, Jasmin. And you don’t have to be pregnant for him to see the next child. It works all the time. He doesn’t even know how he does it, but he does it. And because he’s scared stiff of babies, they’re always showing up at two, or three years of age.” She was rubbing it in, ready to let him have more. “He won’t touch them until the fragile labels fall off them at eighteen months. But I have always had that suspicious feeling it might have more to do with him not wanting to change their diapers.”

Jasmin had heard enough. “You saw him at two or three years old?” she wanted to know.

Barnard shook his head. “Four. Four years old. Off and on his way to playschool, Jasmin. But before he gets there, he will already have had two teachers. His sisters. They will literally hunt up his IQ to an unbelievably dizzy height. Those two are born teachers.” It had all been so clear in Barnard’s mind, so fast.

Soon after, they left the Chand Singh’s. Barnard had not been prepared to tell the woman that the son she had not yet conceived would become an Enlightened One. He might, or he might not, tell her later. He would certainly have to inform her the child was to be educated along the strictest of their religious teachings. He was under no circumstances prepared to inform the mother to be that her child would communicate with the 11.11 Spirit Guardians. Her boy would become a rookie in a progress platoon, no doubt of it. Ahbecetutu already knew and had passed on the information in a flash.

* * * * *

Barnard had no idea it would be almost six years before Jasmin’s little boy made that first great journey to his playschool just five doors down his street. As the months ticked by, Jodi Barnard kept informing her husband that their friend, Jasmin Chand Singh, was stubbornly ‘refusing’ to fall pregnant.

“Did you see it all wrong, then, George?” she wanted to know.

“No,” he told her. “It’ll happen. But what puzzles me is that the information arrived so far ahead of the event and so effortlessly. Think about it. The Guardians needed to practically sell their souls to find out about Michael’s drowning at that beach whilst we would have been in the Philippines. And that was to happen only a few weeks into the future.” He gave her a searching look. “Do, Jodi, please, occasionally rub a few cerebral neurons together till you get a mild spark and think about that proposition.”

“I don’t think about those spooky things,” she answered smugly. “That’s what I married you for. No other reason. You think about it.”

“I did. And I’ve concluded that the administration of this local universe is another of those bureaucratic nightmares,” Barnard contended, “All red tape. Everything is on a need-to-know basis for the evolutionary two-legged mammals.”

It was clear she didn’t believe him.

“It’s true, Jodi! And for every new concept that falls within our grasp, some bunch of devious Seraphim invent two more enigmas, stick them into folders, glue them shut, and mark them ‘secret and confidential.’ We’re here for no other purpose but to entertain their perverse natures. This world is their sadistic equivalent of a mind-game fun park, and interactive zoo.”

“You can be so... Oh, I don’t know...”

* * * * *

It was Saturday, and early breakfast time in the Barnard household. The three white haired, blue eyed Barnard offspring were noisily devouring their scrambled eggs, toast, and jam.

“Jasmin is back in the hospital and this time they are keeping her there,” Jodi Barnard informed her husband. “She still has more than a week to go, supposedly. That makes this the fourth false alarm. Wouldn’t you get fed up with it?”

“I have no immediate personal reference to the problem of childbirth,” Barnard suggested dryly, evasively. Seven o’clock was much too early for him.

The children were laughing. Jodi ignored his remark. “Jasmin hasn’t even had a scan or anything, so they don’t actually know if it is a boy or a girl. She’s confident, though. But if it does turn out to be a girl, she says, we can have it.”

Barnard looked around the table, carefully studying each of his children in turn. “Okay,” he agreed at last. “You’d never tell it apart from these, our own crowd.”

The children thought that was funny as well. Jodi had nothing to say. She was on her way to answer the homestead’s noisy telephone. Moments later she was back.

“That was Jasmin! And she’s got a boy! And everything is fine. The baby weighs...” She had seated herself again. Then her mouth fell open and she stared at her husband in disbelief. So she stayed.

“Don’t just sit there sitting there,” Barnard suggested with a measure of annoyance in his voice. “What, Jodi? That baby weighs...” he repeated. “How much does the thing actually weigh?”

The children were laughing again, and Jodi finally discovered her tongue. “George? Jasmin said she was going to telephone her husband next up. She phoned us first! She let us know before anyone else! She wanted you to know! Do you realize what it must have meant to her, for you to tell her? All that time...”

“How much does it weigh, woman?” Barnard was getting impatient with her.

“We’ll have to go and see her now!” Jodi replied. “You will have to come, too, and the children. We’ll all go. Jasmin would never forgive us...” She seemed to suddenly notice the wearied look on her husband’s face. “Nearly eleven pounds and twenty-one inches long,” she answered quickly, finally.

“Not worth bothering about,” Barnard joked.

“That’s big! Huge! He’ll be even taller than his dad. You’ll have to come with us, George.”

Barnard shook his head. And with a wink directed at his children, he said, “I hate kids. Can’t stand them! They clutter up people’s houses. They’re not really human.”

There was a roar of laughter from the children at his remark. Years of jesting had made them utterly immune to that kind of preposterous statement. And they tended to often turn to their straight-laced mother to explain their dad was only joking.

Constant exposure to the profound, and the ridiculous, will develop their brains and minds, Barnard mused as he laughed with them.

But his crude jokes never did Jodi any good. She was angry now.

“You must come with us!” she insisted.

“I’ve got patients this morning, Jodi.”

“Three hours from now!” she objected. “We’ll be back by then, easy.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Uh, uh. I can’t go. There was an 11.11 courtesy wake-up call last night. Something serious is brewing and I’ll have to be in the clinic.”

* * * * *

One of our greatest intellectual death-traps is our need for predictability. We feel safe when constrained by the self-constructed perimeter fence of our perceived arena of cerebral activity. We hesitate to move beyond those self-imposed and well-known mental boundaries that box us in.

To Barnard, the 11.11 courtesy wake-up call from the Spirit Guardians of the Half-way Realm meant for him to remain at home. Someone in need would call on him, and his assistance in his capacity as a practicing hypnotherapist would be needed. It was in his clinic where psychic events came about, spiritual happenings occurred, some patients even attained enlightenment. That’s where, to his idle mind, things happened ‘all the time.’

But did they? Really?

In reality, the preponderance of these psychic and spiritual events occurred outside the clinic, the lesser number within its walls. And those four walls constituted just another complete set of self-limiting boundaries of a big box within which he felt safe. Safe in the knowledge that there, and at any time he felt like being slothful, he could get away with not thinking beyond the square.

Avtar

Barnard felt some concern for Jasmin Chand Singh, a lot more concern for Jasmin’s marriage. Her husband could have been on hand for the birth, George felt. Surely, the man could at least have been notified before anyone else was told. Was their marriage under strain? It turned out not to be the case.

Not at all.

The therapist had greatly underestimated the enormous stress the woman had lived under for years. For her to bear a son, it seemed, equated with the fulfillment of her life’s primary, if not only, goal. George’s casual description of a four-year-old ready to go to playschool, followed by Jodi’s assurance that these visions happened all the time, and could be relied upon, gave Jasmin faith.

Jasmin had lots of faith.

In the two years following the little man’s birth, Jasmin and all her family would have to draw on the strength of that faith to its very limit. But once again, a new vision would help to give her and everyone in her extended family the capacity to endure what was to come.

* * * * *

“You can’t stay at home, George,” Jodi Barnard insisted. She wasn’t giving up. “Jasmin is one of my best friends. What am I going to tell her? Sorry, mate, but my husband thinks he’s much too small to bother about, and they all look like lumpy potatoes anyway?”

She ignored her children’s chatter and laughter about lumpy potatoes. “Ask your Spirit Guides if you’ve got time to see Jasmin and be back in the clinic for whatever is going to happen,” she snapped at him.

“Okay then,” he mumbled. “You’ve won.” He gulped down the last of his coffee and wandered off to the clinic, again forced to contact the Spirit Guardians when he had so often promised to give them a lengthy break.

But the Guardian, Ahbecetutu would not show up. There, in front of George Mathieu and a little to his right stood someone the mortal had never seen before. With great apprehension the rookie scrutinized the unexpected arrival.

He was a tall, white-bearded man in long, creamy-white, golden embroidered, flowing robes. There was a rather tall blue turban on his head to which was attached a shiny, metallic insignia. His hands, palms together, came up in front of his upper chest. Then he bowed his head ever so slightly, after which he straightened again.

Is that a greeting, a sign of respect, or both? Barnard wondered. The rookie wasn’t used to Spirit Guardians showing him respect. Friendship was what the mortal always appreciated. An extremely rare but casual interchange of humor invariably made his day. Criticism is what he often deserved, and inevitably received.

But respect was what the greatly irreverent rookie neither showed, nor appreciated in receiving, especially from One who so radiated intellectual and spiritual attainment, and who by so far outranked him. The thought came to mind that this might be a Melchisedek, but the Guardians’ rookie would never be sure, or ever find out.

Barnard was a business man, industrious by nature, and that commerce-like attitude extended to his dealings with Spirit Guardians. There was rarely the time for niceties or socializing. There was ever another project to be businesslike about. There was surely a copious splash of inverted snobbery, as well. He was a human with an attitude.

Someone had obviously also neglected to inform this wise ‘Indian Man’ that no Spirit found it easy to strike a bargain with George Mathieu unless the always still distrustful mortal knew precisely who he was dealing with, talking to, or working for.

“What’s your name then?” Barnard asked, still uneasy about the unheralded intrusion of this stranger into his supposedly secured domain.

“Avtar,” came the reply. It wasn’t very clear at all. It could well have been, “Abtar.”

It would do Barnard no good asking him to repeat that strange word. The ‘Man’ with the turban was gone.

In his stead, but much more to the left, there suddenly appeared a big, round, smiling face Barnard knew very well. It was Sarasvati, near toothless grin and all. Recognition of the Swami’s unusual features took Barnard only moments. Moments later the vision was also gone.

Then, right in front of the rookie appeared a deep-brown mud-brick wall. Glued to the wall were the roughly cut-out, big, white paper letters that spelled the word, SARASVATI.

This vision wasn’t about to disappear in a hurry. It stayed there for a long time. The sun appeared to be beaming down on this scene. A warm breeze was blowing. Slowly, one by one, the paper letters curled up in the breeze, then detached themselves from the mud and were blown away. The I was lifted off into the wind first of all. The T followed moments later. The A and the V almost took off together. The S, A, and R floated away in that order.

The whole name was disintegrating from right to left.

Perplexed at the strange vision he was having, Barnard expected the remaining two letters, the A, and the S, to fly away next and in that order. But they stayed right where they were. Then, suddenly, the whole vision was gone.

“That 11.11 courtesy wake-up call was in fact for Jasmin, Jodi,” Barnard told his wife. “Something important...” He paused. “Quite a few things of importance for the future, actually, and she needs to know about them. I’m coming with you guys. And you will need to give me some time with her.”

* * * * *

Jasmin Chand Singh didn’t look like a woman who had given birth just a little more than an hour prior. She was beaming, happy and proud of her accomplishment. And her new baby boy looked healthy. But with all the chit-chat of praise and congratulations, it took some time for George to finally get her attention.

“Someone came to visit me this morning, Jasmin,” he informed her with a laugh. “Someone with a big blue turban on his summit, and he said you are meant to give your child a name starting with S and A. I hope that makes sense to you. He told me a few other things, as well.”

There was an instant look of amazement on the woman’s face, then came a smile that seemed to want to stay just where it was, forever. Something had obvious rung a bell. Finally she said, “I was always going to call him Sarjit. It’s just in the last few days that my husband has thought of another name. We will call him Sarjit!”

“There was more, Jasmin,” Barnard reminded her.

“Was it Guru Gobind Singh who came to see you?” she asked excitedly. “Or Guru Nanak?” Without being told, Jasmin had instantly presumed that the visitor was a Spirit Being.

“No,” Barnard answered. “He had a rather strange name. And I didn’t hear him too well. He said his name was either Avtar, or Abtar. One or the other. That’s what it sounded like.”

Jasmin was snickering. “Avtar, George! He was speaking to you not in English, but in my people’s language. He was saying Avatar! He was an Avatar!”

Barnard had heard of Avatari, but long ago banished the concept to where he felt it belonged, in Hindu fairy-tales. Fundamentalist Christian teachings might still have had a powerful grasp on the mind of this helper of the 11.11. And maybe an Avatar was the very same creature as a Melchisedek. And perhaps the message was more important than the Messenger.

“Whatever, Jasmin... Whoever... But he was very intelligent. Absolutely brilliant! And he said your son will be deeply involved with medicine, specifically experimental medicine. Research. It will be his choice of involvement entirely. And he will be very, very successful at it. But he won’t be in it as a member of a team, Jasmin. He will tend to be a loner.”

Barnard gave her a detailed description of the clothing and turban with silver-colored insignia ‘Mr Avtar’ was decked out in. Jasmin recognized all three of these as having special reference to the precise location — a small district, village, or town — from which her grandparents hailed. It appeared to have been a very accurate psychic hit.

Barnard, however, wondered what was so important about the little man’s name. Why Sarjit, he wondered? Who cares? Bruce, Freddie, Charlie, or Dennis would do.

As long as the little fellow is healthy, who cares?

Barnard would soon learn about what really mattered about Mr Avtar’s message.

* * * * *

Sarjit Chand Singh was undeserving of being graded a misshapen potato, or even a typical baby. Sarjit was undeniably a boy.

And his behavior as a ten-week-old caused both Jodi and Jasmin to remark that he must have got to know George Mathieu in a previous life. His alert eyes quickly picked Barnard out of a group of people and followed him around. He also promptly became attuned to Barnard’s voice, even though he wasn’t visited all that often.

But at six months of age Sarjit was hospitalized. Two days later, desperately ill, he was transferred to a specialist children’s hospital. Shortly after, the specialist ordered his little body to be blasted with chemotherapy, again and again, with months, and then only weeks, between the heavy doses.

Soon, the little man found himself checked-out and prodded at by scores of specialists, all of whom would simply shake their heads. And by the time he was one year old, he was below his birth weight, unable to crawl, unable to sit up, let alone walk. But he hung in there, and rarely cried. He was tough. Brave!

And he was dying.

“They want to perform an operation on him,” Jasmin informed Barnard on the telephone. “It’s something altogether new. It’s never been done before.”

“What is the prognosis, Jasmin,” he asked, deeply concerned, shocked and doubtful, and realizing too late he had posed a rather ridiculous question.

“Officially, chances are not good at all, but nobody knows,” she answered. “Unofficially, he has a hundred percent chance of going to playschool when he’s four, remember?” There was not a note of sarcasm in her voice.

Jasmin Chand Singh had faith, stacks of it, and much more of it than George Barnard ever had. She had left the glib-mouthed therapist speechless. The awful news had winded him.

She was still on the line, waiting for a comment from him that didn’t come.

“Now he can be that loner in pioneer health care,” she explained. “His choice altogether not to be part of the research group that will perform the operation,” she suggested. “But he’s doing all he can, the little loner, just staying alive.” She was still waiting for him to say something.

“Yeah...” he answered vaguely.

“Had you forgotten what you were told? George!” This sounded like a severe scolding he had truly deserved, not a question.

“I didn’t think... never... not this way... but you’re right, Jasmin.”

“You were told he would be successful,” she answered. “That’s all I have to hang on to. God help us all.”

“He will! We both already know He will.”

* * * * *

The hospital staff didn’t want to part with him after all that time. The nurses all cried when he finally left. He was their much loved miracle boy, who smiled even when in great pain.

At age four, and after a notable career as an irreplaceable collaborator with a medical research team, and a subsequent one-year-long ‘furlough’ at the end of their successful project, he finally entered playschool, happy and healthy.

He is our Sarjit Chand Singh.
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

I don't read much other than psychology-related stuff, but one thing is wrong IMO: Souls don't get lost.

There was not a Guardian Angel created stupid enough to lose the soul he/she was responsible for,
because on their ability to so care for souls depends their ascension.

Maybe astral selves is a better name for what William J. Baldwin talks about.
Your soul is like your angel's life's savings, bank account, money jar.





Thank you for the clarification, George. I can always count on you being a "straight shooter." That make much more sense to me, now. I do enjoy the book though, as Dr. Baldwin seems to help (aided by beings of light and/or angels) all of God's creations find their way to ascend appropriately.

Thank you for the excerpt from your book. I had read that part about a month ago and I enjoyed going over it again this morning. Sarjit must've been (is) an incredibly brave little boy. Miracles seem to surround him, prompting many to take notice. Miracle boy, indeed! Looking forward to the revelation of his role in the world.

Many Thanks and Much Love,
Phillip
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-- Buddha--
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by happyrain »

wow neat

cool story :loves
Fear grips when Love falls short of Infinity
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

Hi all,
It has been a while since I've been able to spend some time on here. I just want to give a little update....... Kiran Alexander Greene - born 12/27/10...... 6 lbs 12 oz...... 10 fingers 10 toes..... healthy, alert, calm and beautiful beyond words. Holly and I are wrapped up in Love with our first child! I would post some pics, but I am technically challenged and can't seem to figure out how to use the "Img" BBCode. I hope all are well.

Much Love,
Phillip
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by Geoff »

Dear Philip,

Great to hear your news.

The IMG just tells the board the link is to a picture. You have to host the picture itself on another web site, generally a picture hosting site.

love,
Geoff
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by Sandy »

Oh Phillip!!! Kiran is a little angel!!! :happy I couldn't be happier for you and Holly! I hope Holly is doing well, after such a fabulous life changing experience. :D Thank you for sharing this welcomed news. I am smiling from ear to ear! :flower:
Love and please hug that little guy for me...
Sandy
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

Thanks Sandy and Geoff. I'll just change my avatar pic every now and then. You guys are doing so much good and bringing so much Light into the world through these message boards. Just think you should hear it more often. Keep it up!
PG
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Post by Sandy »

Thank you Phillip. We will (keep it up.) :kiss:
(((HUGS)))
Sandy
P.S. I forgot all about your picture posting problems.. :oops: Now remember I am not the brightest light with computer...but I do save things and I just posted these saved picture posting messages that you may find useful. :finger:
If you have registered with Imageshack, you should have received a toolbar at the top of your computer screen. It says "upload" click on this and it will automatically take you to a window pane on your PC, from there you can select what file you want to load a picture from, for example your picture album with saved photos in. You can then select a picture from your album by double clicking it and a new window pane will appear from Imageshack with some codes on, click on number 1 for forums and it will appear in blue, right click it and select "copy" from the list (also un-tick that box next to it, otherwise everyone gets access to any private photos) after clicking copy, go back to your post you are preparing on this forum and right click on the page and select "paste" the code will be displayed on the post, (go to preview to see if it fits or has worked) the picture should be displayed.

If you have a very large pic that is too big for the forum page or a selection of pics you can choose the code at the top called "direct link to photo".

If you want to post a picture or animated image that is not stored in your pc for example, on the net, you can simply go to that image, right click it and a box will appear with Imageshack and various other pc functions. Select "Upload to Imageshack" the codes will appear again for you to copy and that image can be pasted the same way as above, or if you see an animation that you like right click on it and select "transload image" same rule applies as above, copy the code number one and paste onto your post....


wow that was long.. hope you understood...

Lots of love

Sarah
I am not totally sure if you can upload pics right from your computer to here, but you can go to sites like http://photobucket.com/ and upload pics there or imageshack.net (seems imageshack may have failed)

They have codes that you can copy and paste. In your message window there is Img . Paste your code for the picture and highlight it and click on IMG and it will upload the image after you reply. It won't show while you are still typing message.

Heather xo

If you register with Imageshack that Heather provided you can upload any photo and copy and paste the codes that are given to you... just paste them straight onto the thread, no need to type anything else... If all else fails request one of the admins or mod's email and we can post them for you..
Sarahra


Once you upload them on Photobucket or ImageShack or one of those places, as others have already said, they'll give you codes you can cut and paste.

I just wanted to add that one of the different codes they give you will probably specify that its "IMG code for on-line forums and bulletin boards," or something like that, which is the one you'd cut and paste into your post here. (Basically, if you didn't just cut and paste, you'd just need to type in the full URL of the photo ["http://...", which it'll give you after you upload it on Photobucket, ImageShack, etc.,], enclosed in between the opening of the image code line, [img]and%20the%20closing%20of%20the%20image%20code%20line[/img], if that makes any sense. [That is, like this: [img]insert%20photo's%20URL%20here[/img].] But regardless, you'll probably see this on Photobucket or wherever you upload the photos to, and if it contains [img], that's how you'll be able to tell it's the right one to use for here.)

Aqua Deb

now for the avi's,,,,,hmmmmm

well, I started a folder called AVATARS,,,,and transfered pictures that I wanted to make avi's from....

then when I go to the resize site and you have to ' browse' for your picture I go to the Avatar folder,,,,

find the picture,,,,,resize it,,,,,and file it again only I change the name from the crazy description they give you and add avi to the end of it...


then you go to your profile,,,,and at the bottom where it has your current avi,,,,,just go down to where it says browse,,,,click on it.....find your Avatar folder,,,,,then pic out the picture that you've resized and click on it....

then all you have to do is go down to where it says submit....

hope I haven't missed a step......I don't think so....


I just read the post you quoted AquaDebs instructions for posting photos',
it still looked like greek to me....(no offense to any Grecians out there!)

I'll stick to changing my avi
anging Avi pictures...
PP

Hey guys, there are 4 addresses once you've uploaded a photo. Ensure it's of a suitable size before you upload it. Copy the IMG code address. It's the only one that works. Failing that, you can click on the URL there and paste the Direct link address instead.

Love, Pet XXX

It took me about a year!!!
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by HDPG »

Thanks Sandy.....

PG
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by loveforall »

Hello everyone

Wow, all of these stories are so inspiring! I have been using the AC CD's for some time now, on and off. For some reason I feel like many times I'm stopping myself from getting the full effect....I still haven't been able to get past the second CD. Not sure if it's fear of what may happen, or what I might see & hear, but it's very upsetting. I've always known that I wanted to heal people, but until I came across this website I never even imagined the extent of these healing possibilities (ha, so naive of me :duh ). I'll be starting medical school this year and so I feel that this would be the perfect time to tackle this issue of fear, or whatever the case may be, and move forward with my goals of fully gaining control over my mind & one day becoming a healer. Any advice will greatly be appreciated!!

Thanks :loves
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Re: >>> The Akashic Construct Healers <<<

Post by sammy »

Hello loveforall! :hithere

I guess the first thing you need to do is think specifically and figure out what and why you are afraid of, and then address those fears. Geoff once wrote this to me (it was more regrading life's worries, but I think it applies here)
Live in fear, and you will create a life full of fear for yourself. Live in love, and you will create a life full of love. The choice is yours.
LOVE!!!!
Sammy
Love is a daily decision ~ Mom & Daddy John
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