About half way through is the paragraph below …
Steven: “I’ll need to meditate soon. I’m half asleep, not properly in my body or my mind. I’m being dragged into a Deva ... one time, in Canberra, I had this every day for a two week period, it clicked in just before midday … I had to nap, to drift in meditation, to let my consciousness leave my body and co-join in some way with a large over-lighting Deva. I think it was doing some Deva work in Canberra’s central core.”
And, the 2nd last paragraph …
“Soon I felt myself as part of the large Deva with yellow and orange edges that floated like a space ship over the town. I became aware of the slope down the Muttama creek corridor. Soon I changed awareness to feel an outreaching to Devas that encircled the town. At the same time I had an awareness of lending my human vibration to clearing the situation inside both the red and grey roofed old people’s complexes adjacent to the hospital.”
These two extracts set the background for what is to follow.
I awoke on Saturday, keen to get to Cootamundra and met up with Karen. Ten days before she told me of an accident in which 4 young local people were killed at 1.30 am in a blazing car crash a mere 200 metres from her house. They had been traveling fast, missed a corner, smashed into a tree and burst into flames.
The community was shocked. The photos speak of the event. Taking them I had to hold back tears.
The corner was at the mouth of the path where Karen had had a premonition of death several months before. (Again, see the 3rd part of the Cootamundra story)
“I noticed that there was ‘death’ hovering near the hill between two houses with old people in them. I was concerned, that was about a week before the accident. Then two days before the accident I went for a walk up the path towards the hill and – on the road we were just on to the water tank – and was told to go back because two people, not just one were required to die. And then there was the accident, the couple coming home in their ultra-light at dusk crashed into the windmill and died. The pilot was confused when the runway lights failed ... “
Karen told me of the accident ten days before I awoke on Saturday. Getting up to made my morning coffee I realised that part of me was sunk inside the Bobbara hill Deva and was communicating with the large central Cootamundra Deva that I described in the afore mentioned in Part 3 of this tale.
“…The town Deva seems a large ball of light over the town - no, it’s not a hovering space craft! It’s a ball, a radiating ball of light. Intense white in the middle and moving through yellow to orange around the edges. It seems to have linking lines running to other Devas …”
Hill top Devas, even large ones, can’t move but they can communicate over distances, by line of site - Cootamundra and Bobbara are only 50 Km apart
The Large Deva over Gundagai Town.
The Deva over Cootamundra is similar but not as large nor as complex.
The Gundagai Deva extends along the Murrumbidgee river.
The Cootamundra Deva is just focused on what happens within its town area
As I drove the 60 Km of road from Galong to Cootamundra I struggled to keep my mind and eyes focused on the road – yet I felt neither sleepy or bored.
I visited the site, took my photos and knocked on Karen’s door.
After a brief hallo we quickly settled down to meditate. We divided the work. I would place my consciousness into the Deva kingdom and Karen would check out the status of the ‘souls’ of the four car crash victims. After a 20 minutes meditation we recorded or impressions …
Karen. “When I first tuned in I got dizzy, maybe reflecting confusion of what had happened. One man - he came from another town - has passed on; he’s gone to the light. Another is in the process of going; I worked to help him a little.
Two remain anchored here. A male, a young man, has his partner and children, living in Cootamundra.
The dead girl has a grieving grandmother and she wants to stay here for her. I tried to tell her that she can help the grandmother more by going … and she eventually did.
While the young man refuses to go, he has the feeling that he wants to be here for his mother, partner and children. He feels he is better off being here than anything in the beyond. An Atheist, all he can see is the tree and the people who come. He is disassociated, no longer really a person, but his emotions remain here.”
Steven. “There seems to have been 3 or 4 devas involved.
The big one over the town apologised more than once … ‘it’s my job to look after people, sorry’.
Then there is the water town hill deva - who had little to do with it.
And the proximity to the hospital means that there where ‘things’ that enjoy death were also involved in the creation of the accident.
And strong links to the underworld, where there seems to be some aboriginal involvement … I was shown aboriginal people spearing each other in the legs. Reflecting on this, cricket – the Cootamundra favourite – it is a group game, a gathering event, a corroboree happening
Towards the end of the meditation I was shown beautiful kaleidoscope images, swirls of colour around my head.”
Karen. “Water tower hill, just behind us, now has a feeling of sacredness. The 6 deaths in the short time must have done that.”
Steven. “It seems that the car accident was just a series of occurrences that came together at this time and place. I am reminded of Thornton Wilder’s story, “The Bridge over the San Luis Rey”. The hospital nearby, the personal Karma of the people in the car, the …”
Karen. “I think water tower hill is disturbed by all the houses that have been built on and around. SO I guess it’s a lesson that one need to respect hills — sacred sites.”
Steven. “Yes, it is not a good to live on, or near, sacred sites. It leads Devas to irresponsible if not downright hostile. I guess they are just copying our disrespect!”
The recording session completed I left Karen to go shopping. An hour later I returned with my shopping and some bits and pieces for a picnic lunch. Karen was talking to a neighbor who introduced herself as Pauline, and we quickly fell to discussing the accident. Neither Pauline nor any of the other neighbors had heard the accident – there would have been just one bang and then silence – so even if the bang awoke you there would have been nothing else.
Pauline told us that she was linked to Cootamundra through her distant aboriginal relatives. Fifty years ago she had been at school with many of the girls from the local Bimberdeen Aboriginal Girls’ home. And yes, the terrible stories about the place…some were true. The girls were hired out as servants, and some became pregnant and then some had to bury their babies.
It didn’t surprise her about the accident. Revenge killing was part of aboriginal culture and one of the dead people in the car may have had something to answer for.
The Post Script continues
After a quick picnic lunch I dropped Karen off and headed back towards home. Things went fine until I left town and then the driving got difficult. Not because of traffic on the road - there wasn’t any to talk about. No, my mind was drifting; I yawned and yawned again; I struggled to focus my eyes and to keep my mind on the road. I tried deepening my breathing – a trick I use to help keep me awake – but it didn’t help. By the time I got past Wallenbeen I was having double vision, one eye seemingly focused above the other.
Yet, none of this worried me. I was happy and relaxed. It wasn’t as if I was sleepy; yet I couldn’t help myself, I yawned and yawned, I felt like I was dropping off. I opened windows, perhaps there was exhaust pipe leak into the car — but no, that didn’t help. My unfocused eyes saw the passing trees, birds and green fields. I felt that I was surrounded in beauty. My mood was buoyant.
Devas on the Cootamundra to Galong road
as I was passing the Harden Cemetery it happened. My mind’s eye saw nothing but
rolling shades of blue, yellow, orange and red. It was my hands that saved me, they knew that the front of the car had slipped off the
road. A burst of adrenalin made me instinctively turn the wheel to bring the
car back onto the road. My eyes opened I was in my lane and traffic was passing
me by on the opposite side. I was lucky that the car had followed the road
camber and had driven off the edge not into the oncoming traffic.
remaining fifteen minutes of my drive home was a struggle. Home, I wended my
way through the house and plumped down to nap in the sunroom.
had happened? Was someone or something trying to kill me?
answer presented itself when I awoke.
Small hilltop Devas on the Cootamundra to Galong road
Then, as I was passing the Harden Cemetery it happened. My mind’s eye saw nothing but rolling shades of blue, yellow, orange and red. It was my hands that saved me, they knew that the front of the car had slipped off the road. A burst of adrenalin made me instinctively turn the wheel to bring the car back onto the road. My eyes opened I was in my lane and traffic was passing me by on the opposite side. I was lucky that the car had followed the road camber and had driven off the edge not into the oncoming traffic.
The remaining fifteen minutes of my drive home was a struggle. Home, I wended my way through the house and plumped down to nap in the sunroom.
What had happened? Was someone or something trying to kill me?
The answer presented itself when I awoke.
I was being blissed out by the Cootamundra central deva. Just as had happened on the drive to Cootamundra, but more intensely. The Deva wanted to give me a present; she was excited to have a human with whom she could communicate. In Aboriginal times communication must have been a common occurrence and that was, at the most, only 150 years ago. If I had been walking, the bliss would have been a pleasure, a chance to sit and dream, but in a car moving at 100kph it was a deadly thing to do ... and how was the Deva supposed to know about cars? For most of its 20,000 previous years there had been people but no 100kph killing machines.
I’m afraid the Deva, and her friends, have not yet assimilated the danger we humans face from cars. Driving in remote areas I still get the yawns, my eyes lose focus and I want to bliss out. Now I know enough to stop and take a nap or eat a snack.
|I told some friends about my experience and one, Dr Geo, sent me a terse and dense email explanation. I’ve expanded it slightly below.|
The sequence of events that I describe below can happen when you drive into an area surrounded by huge hilltop devas. When these large Landscape Devas become aware of you they …
Can group together and can simultaneously send you their blessings. They pass you from one to another as you drive along. They dump loads of energy on you.
So you end up with an enormous load of unassimilated energies in the aura and the body.
These energies sit, a heavy load which makes you feel that you desperately need to sleep.
So you yawn and yawn, and want to sleep. Sleeping is what your body does to balance and assimilate energies.
When the impulse to sleep is really strong I’ve been drawn upward from my physical body - I’ve had to fight it because it’s really dangerous. The soul ends up floating above the vacated body and one can unconcernedly watch from above as the car careers off the road and smashes.
In the Dreamtime a mere hundred years ago, the devas were dealing with aboriginal sensitives who would gladly have received the energies, laid down and assimilated the new powers the Devas were giving them.
Living in these energies and properly assimilating them awakens one to Deva awareness and helps you understand the nature of Deva consciousness. So when this happens one learns to see, experience and understand more about Devas.
However, today most people are not tuned in the right way to link to Devas. So the energies Devas bestowed on them are wasted.
The Devas know this and so don’t bother to work with people until they sense that the right person is within their ken.
Which may be just as well or there would be many more car accidents
Dr Geo holding a sketch of a hilltop Deva in front of the hill from which it emanates. Hilltop Devas are tied to their location and have a lifespan that runs to tens of thousands of years.
The Bridge of San Luis Rey is American author Thornton Wilder's second novel, first published in 1927 to worldwide acclaim. It tells the story of several interrelated people who die in the collapse of an Inca rope-fiber suspension bridge in Peru, and the events that led to their being on the bridge. A friar who has witnessed the tragic accident then goes about inquiring into the lives of the victims, seeking some sort of cosmic answer to the question of why each had to die. (from Wikipedia)
"Make private" prevents public display
Name: David Beale
Date posted: November 07, 2012 - 03:14 am
Message: Some spirits are stuck in resentment about what they didn't get that they wanted, so can be angry and even spiteful, and other devas have better acceptance of harmony than we do so, when we get with that type, we get happier. Devas and other beings, in other dimensions and ours, are more like us than animals who behave towards each other far better than humans do. The crows, magpies...they all live in harmony and don't have pre-emptive strikes; and they do minimal harm when defending. Devas enjoy interacting with us like we enjoy being with...well, do Ihave to say "dolphins"? I enjoy feeding the magpies; they eat out of my fingers, only come when whistled to in the way they've got to know over the years --- otherwise they ignore us except to not get walked on. If I was a deva, I'd care for people like I do for the magpies and crows and lizards and all the other wildlife around our house.
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