Fearless

Fear is a useful human emotion. It was divinely designed to save our lives in the case of facing danger.

But, our society creates constant fear, and that starts with the media. News triggering our "fight or flight" response is constantly on. Advertising and marketing create the feeling of being not enough. Not beautiful enough, not rich enough, not fit enough and so on. It also creates the unfulfilled desire to buy more and more rubbish that makes you equal with “the best.”

And here you are with depression as a result of your haunting past, anxiety as a result of your uncertain future, losing the ability to employ healthy common sense or follow a moral compass. What's most dangerous is accepting everything what we learn at school, university, or from society as an indisputable truth.

I remember one day when Pooky and I were downstairs chatting, our conversations headed toward the topic of fear. I told him a story from my past.

It was during the time I worked as a math tutor. One day I received a phone call from a lady who was looking for a math tutor for her son. She mentioned that she is looking for someone very delicate, kind, and patient because her son suffers from a nervous condition. I answered that she couldn’t find a more proper person for the job. She wanted me to teach him at their home. I taught at my home only, but she convinced me by offering good extra money. Finally, I agreed.

When I arrived for the first lesson, I noticed that the house was immaculately clean. Soon I found out that the boy was attending grammar school and just started the HSC Extension Program in Mathematics. He was a nice, slightly overweight boy with beautiful grey eyes. I started my lesson with some ice-breaking easy questions like if he thought that math was invented or discovered, what he would like to do as an adult, and so on. I earned a really beautiful and trusting smile from him after that.

Soon I learned more about his family. He had an older sister. He looked and behaved like his mother, a nice and obsessively clean woman. I remember, that once I needed to use the toilet. The absolutely shiny and spotlessly clean bathroom made me so nervous that I could hardly pee.

I never talked to his father, but I had very clear energetic dissonance with him. On the first day, I started my lesson at 5pm. I was hired for one hour. Exactly at 6pm the door from the adjusted room opened and the boy’s father looked at us. Just looked at us. The following week I was fully packed three minutes to 6.

There is this shrinking, trembling, uneasiness, and pressure in your chest that empaths and ultrasensitive people know. It happens while looking at Putin and other psychopaths. I remember my tenant Brandon when his father visited him. I remember his posture, his shrinking. Yes, we empaths feel and can read it easily.

So, the family dynamic of my student was clear. The reasons for the boy’s mental health problems were obvious. He was doing quite well in math, but I always had to stop him from guessing. After I asked him a question, he would become extremely nervous, answering the question with the first idea that came to mind. I always had to slow him down, to switch on his reasoning and encourage him to slowly and thoughtfully compose the answer.

One day I remember that 6pm was approaching and he was not 100% ready for his next important test. I told him that he needed an extra hour of tuition to pass it well. He said; that would be impossible, and started to talk about his schedule. His week, including the weekend, was fully filled hour by hour. Dance classes, language classes, church activities, playing in band, gym. It was an endless list of activities.

I taught him for maybe 2 or 3 months. One day his mother called and told me that he was not well. The next week he was not well either. And I never saw him again…

I had no doubt about the cure the boy needed. His father should be properly diagnosed. It should be clearly stated who was really sick in the family, but it is totally normal in 3D society to drug victims of the psychopaths to be numb and inert instead of helping the psychopaths to menage their sickness and deprive the right to persecuted the members of their families, co-workers, neighbours and so on…

When I mentioned the story to Pooky he asked, "Did you do something about it? Did you say something?"

I think that the answer to that question is easy to predict for any ”normal” person, but as you know, Pooky came from another galaxy, where everything was good, right, and easy. I understood how cowardly we 3Ds behave. His comment was my turning point. From then on, I started to crumble my all excuses and fears, I was ready to verbalise all my observations and stand by the abused. I was fearless already, but he just gave me a kick to implement my harsh, yet very right and true comments on what was going around me.

It is hard life, but on other hand it is sort of fun to observe how people react to the absolutely naked truth. They usually panic and think, how do you dare to say the truth and destroy my illusions! I become their number one enemy.

Someone had to initiate this process, and I am quite happy to join others in doing it. I have absolutely nothing to lose. I could be killed, but I have been on the other side number of times and it was so nice there that I came back here only because I feel obligated to finish my tasks. So, whatever I feel to do I will, even if it makes someone uncomfortable. Or everybody uncomfortable. We learn and grow while being uncomfortable.

Divine Protection

People sometimes ask me if I ever worried living by myself or renting rooms to strangers. I always answered that I have divine protection. For example, if a killer comes to murder me, before reaching the attic he would slip on the stairs and heavily break his leg. Afterward, he'd stay in my mercy and I would call an ambulance for help. It's a story from my imagination. But below is a real story.

It was beginning of December of 2021. The idea of pink room sprung into my head. I had a new vision and wanted to rid myself of two horribly solid and heavy bookshelves that my ex bought to keep his numerous books on Hitler, Stalin, Mao and other psychopaths. I truly always hated those quite expensive shelves, so I put an ad out on Gumtree to sell them. No one with medium strength could take them down. After lowering the price a number of times, a man committed to buy both of them and take them from my place.

It was early morning when two men appeared at the front door. They confirmed that they were there to pick up the shelves. One of them was tall and medium build with blond hair and face resembling the face of my neighbour Noeline, and the second man was quite big and somehow disproportionally built. He had a small upper torso and huge hips. He was wearing very loose black pants and... a mask. Of course, it was the time when everybody was wearing masks, but in his case, it was a balaclava. Only his eyes were visible. The very loose and filled panties suggested that he was hiding something in there. I asked them about the truck and they answered that they'd parked it around the corner.

I was really blissful that morning, so I opened the door with an absolutely sincere smile and a strong light aura around me. After I greeted them nicely, I invited them inside. On the stairs I asked them with true care if they are really strong enough, as the shelves were extremely heavy. When we reached the room, the masked man asked if he could use bathroom. I pointed him to the bathroom door. He stayed there for a really long time. I had a small conversation with the blond man, but somehow, he was giving me unclear answers. I asked for money and he paid me the agreed amount. The other man was still in the bathroom. My thoughts started to be a bit uneasy. Is he assembling a gun he brought in his trousers? However, whenever I feel a bit cautious, the Universe immediately sends me help. My female tenant appeared in the corridor heading downstairs. I though, so she is at home, that's good. The man left the bathroom. He took the mask off. He was very pale, sweating, and sort of trembling. It was something strange. Like his body was made of a trembling medusa. He excused his absence saying that he had serious diarrhoea. A small amused thought popped in to my head: diarrhoea is often the result of enormous fear.

Anyhow, the men managed to take two bookshelves down. The blond man went to bring the truck and the second stood with me in garage. He was not wearing mask. I asked him how he felt and made sure he was not too tired, seeing sweat running down his face. I offered him a glass of water. He accepted, and when I brought it he drank it thirstily. When he finished, I asked him about his origin. He had a dark complexion. I do not remember his answer, but I jokingly said that he looked like a robber while wearing the mask. He asked me if he could use the bathroom again. I pointed him to the ground floor toilet. Again, he spent ages in there. The second man returned with the truck, they packed the shelves and left.

I felt so light and happy. It was like a lump of dark, heavy, stuck, and sticky energy was taken from my home. The strange thing is, I think quite often about the man who wore the balaclava mask. I feel that he experienced some sort of comeback. Maybe I looked like his grandma. When we talked in the garage, there was something soft in him, something nice, and maybe I reminded him of something he was always missing in his life, a mother.

According to some researchers, Jesus believed in reincarnation. They say that the church implemented the idea of one life around 300 A.D. Why? To make people fearful?

Fearful people are thoughtless enough to be easily manipulated.

One method to rid oneself of fear is to experience past life regression (PLR). Clients can be led through their own death in a previous life. They can feel how peaceful and comfortable it could be.

Psychologists say that every kind of human fear has roots in the fear of death. I always recommend my clients PLR as the best tool to cure anxiety.