Channelling Session Re-Discovered

I recently moved my files from a laptop to a beautiful new desktop Macintosh. As I was going through some of the old documents I found the following, which I typed during what seems to have been an automatic writing session. I have foggy memories of doing it, though it was just this past July.

Here's why I remember sitting down to do this: Many years ago (like, 20) I got married to a guy I'd been living with. I was not very mature in many ways, and I remember being insanely jealous if his college ex-girlfriend, with whom he'd remained friends. This lady was tall, slender, beautiful, interesting, perfect in every way... or so it seemed to me at the time. I was a little obsessed with her and with how far short I fell compared to her. She spoke french fluently and had parents living in Switzerland. How cool is that? I'd taken french for years in school but couldn't speak a word of it, I'd never been anywhere, and I was short and chubby (or so it seemed to me at the time).

Well, my husband and I divorced after just a few short years of marriage, for reasons that I'm sure had to do with my immaturity, but we managed to stay on friendly terms. Perhaps 2 or 3 years ago he told me that his ex-girlfriend was suffering from an advanced stage of uterine or cervical cancer and was undergoing some extreme treatments. In the intervening years I did manage to grow a lot, so hearing her name wasn't quite so threatening anymore; I wouldn't have thought it possible 20 years ago, but now my heart went out to her. That was the last I heard about it because my ex and I communicate very infrequently these days.

So one day last March or April, I had a dream about this woman, who I'll call H. I was troubled because I felt she had passed away and troubled by my reaction to it because of all the power I'd given her when I was an insecure young woman. I googled her, but couldn't find any information about her; no email, address, website, Facebook page... nothing. I really felt her around me. It's a very strange feeling when someone your own ages passes away, something about it just feels so close to home. I asked her if she had something to say to me and sat down at my keyboard.

Here's what I typed out that July day in 2009, unedited except for correcting the obvious typos that happened at the time. I've also added punctuation to make sense of what originally came out in one long sentence:

"I was pregnant and now I’m pregnant again. I'm holding something that doesn’t belong to me. I took on something that somebody gave me, an idea about my body and I believed it. Don’t believe it. I played guitar, I carried xmas trees. I was strong. Now I’m like a dragonfly, and you can come on my back into amazing places. For me it’s like a humming bird, things move so fast and you have to stop time to see me. You have to stop time to heal. Sit in meditation; it helps. Watch your breasts. What is beautiful in the beginning becomes exceedingly unattractive later. Time is nothing and everything. I have a mouth to speak. No I wasn’t afraid. I was at the funeral home, I stood by my head in the casket and watched the people. I am everywhere now. Your eyes are blind and cannot see. Then you have to take off the lenses just slide them down your nose. Do this gesture and look for what you cannot see. Breathe on your tongue, out like kundalini yoga. Breathe. My right leg was stuck. I went headfirst to the other way. It was like a dive into cool water, I felt it all around me and when I emerged on the other side I spread out like vapor. Yoga. For a time I will help you. But this isn’t your business here. I remember being in the womb of my mother, I remember tickling her on the inside. I was upside down. There are many of us, like a starfish if you divide it, it only multiplies and doesn’t die. We exist in many places at once. We are so much bigger. I don’t have all the answers, I’m still learning. Sometimes I am alone, but it feels nice and normal. My mother has beads or a necklace she wore over a white shirt, red beads like prayer beads. They said the wig on my body was awful. I laughed with them. Write with a pen on paper. And I will sign it. I am with two others, on either side. My mother and father are both here with me."

There are a couple of sentences I couldn't decipher at the beginning, when I was asking for H to help me. I remember asking her if she had something to say and if she would help me get it said. Some of the first sentences were kind of gibberish, like:

"Just go ahead. Is it possible you are waiting for something that is already here?"

Wonder why I immediately forgot that session and rediscovered it now. What's interesting is that H was right about my breasts. I had an abnormal mammogram on my left breast in October, when back for another, went back for ultrasound, and ultimately had a needle biopsy in November. Everything was clear, thank God.