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Psychic Children. Susan GaleЧитать онлайн книгу.

Psychic Children - Susan Gale


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Indigos. Futurist Gordon-Michael Scallion, in his audio presentation, Children of the Blue Ray, suggests that highly evolved children incarnating today who exhibit certain temperaments and interests from an early age have come into life as part of a specific group within the “Blue Ray,” as he calls it. Those of the Indigo group are especially powerful on higher, creative mental levels, for example. Those of the Green group are the loving empaths and healers.

      The Psychic Children are known to have an unusual ability to communicate without words among themselves. They seem to hold all plants and animals on the earth as precious and sacred, and they continually act and speak as though all that really is meaningful in the world is genuine love. Perhaps these are indeed the humanistic Indigos, or the children of the Green Ray/heart chakra within the higher frequencies of light—returning from Lemuria as the children of Zu (Cayce), Mu (from Hawaiian legend and such books as The Ultimate Frontier), and Oz (Twyman). Indeed, peace troubadour James Twyman calls them overtly the Children of Oz. They have come to be the healers of the earth and its people—prepared to help raise all of humanity to the next level of consciousness through the power of love.

      These are children who communicate easily with animals and nature spirits—who are specialists in using the gifts of the natural world. These children innately know how to use herbs and energies from the earth’s subtle vibrations for the healing of their fellow humans, of animals, of the earth itself. They are often passionate about reversing the effects of human pollution, waste, and industrial processes on the natural ecological balance of the planet. They are committed to finding and using the best methods of healing for both human and ecological imbalances and illnesses. They epitomize the all-encompassing energy of Love, which they want to share with everyone on the earth. According to Twyman, it is these children who have prepared the new worldwide grid of psychic awareness and love, in order to raise the entire world’s vibration to one of peace, balance, and universal love. This is their gift to us. Our gift to them is a nurturance of their gifts and the offering of opportunities for them to fulfill their mission of Love.

      Finally, there are the newly arrived Crystal Children. They were first mentioned by psychic Steve Rother, who received his information from a matrix he called The Group. Lee Carroll has suggested that they are the artistic Indigos. Rother says that they are often greatly misunderstood and called autistic. According to Doreen Virtue in her book The Crystal Children, they are actually “awe-tistic”!

      Virtue states that these children have mostly been born since 1995 and are calm, happy, amazingly telepathic, and highly spiritual as opposed to the feisty, action-oriented, determined conceptual Indigos on whom Virtue says the Crystal Children depend to clear the path for them, creating a safe world into which they can incarnate. She indicates that the Crystal Children generate pastel auras in the very highest vibratory ranges as they usher in an age in which communication will be instantaneously mind-to-mind, and collective love and high spiritual connection will bring about a new world in which absolutely anything is possible!

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      Real Children: Kate, David, Faith

      It is definitely not easy to be on the cutting edge of a new consciousness. Anyone who has helped bring in societal changes of any kind can tell you that. So it has been for any number of very real children whose gifts are phenomenal, yet whose personal lives have been full of difficulties and challenges.

      The children whose stories are told here are real. They have persevered, sometimes against great odds, to be who they were meant to be and to use their gifts for the uplift of human awareness.

       Kate (in her own words)

      Winding deer trails of twisted tree roots, covered in uncurling ferns and velveteen moss, are my paths of discovery. Hidden creeks of cool water flowing over rounded stones are my refreshment. Towering pines of strength, through which shafts of soft sunlight slant onto the musky earth, are my sanctuary. Frost glittering like Magick beneath frozen moonlight in the midnight heart of the forest is my secret.

      Aside from a childhood spent immersing myself in the forest and swamps found in our wooded suburban neighborhood, my first real step into the nature kingdom came when I was twelve years old. My mother told me of an exercise she had done at a spiritual workshop on Native Americans she had gone to the day before. In the meditation exercise you would meet your power or totem animal.

      Needless to say, I was quite excited, for I was positive mine was that of a red fox—an animal I’d been drawn to all my life. I was sure that had to be it. I did the exercise and I waited—waited for something, anything, to appear, but nothing happened. Not a glimpse or glimmer of anything. Frustrated and utterly disappointed, I denounced the exercise as stupid and bitterly stormed off elsewhere for the rest of the day.

      The next morning I’d completely forgotten about the incident as I waited at the bus stop. Then to my absolute disbelief, a red fox came waltzing up the street. I had never before seen one in person nor had any knowledge of them living near me. The fox came within ten feet of me, paused, then turned and trotted off over a lawn and into the tree line. Amazed, I slowly sank down on one knee to get a better look. I had made up my mind to chase after it when suddenly the bus pulled up, filled with oblivious classmates, the door opening for me. After a hesitation I finally boarded the bus and took a seat.

      About a year later I had another encounter with this animal companion, only in a different way that would truly unlock the door to the spiritual aspect of the nature kingdom and begin to push it open. At that time, to my horror, the man who owned the forest at the end of our road began to develop part of it. The trees I had always played among were cut down, roots ripped from the soil, trunks and branches shredded into chips. Machines were brought in to dig into the earth, blasting equipment to destroy the rocks that stood in the way of progress. The forest cried out in pain, the animals began to flee, and I went up into the woods and wept at the devastation.

      I went into the forest one afternoon, walking over the shredded tree trunks and shattered rock. Sick at heart, I dug my hands into the soft earth and cried on the cliff side, begging God, in between sobs, to please protect my forest, my living sanctuary. I pleaded, promised, and bargained, willing to do anything to keep it safe. I stayed until night began to fall, curled up beneath a tree, until I realized it was time to go home and that I could do no more.

      As I walked back, I caught a glimpse of something surprising out of the corner of my eye—a flash of a lower part of a fox. Black-socked feet, following in step very closely off to my right side. This wasn’t a physical fox but a spirit one. Walking beside me, comforting me, letting me know that yes, someone was listening. I could feel my sorrow lighten considerably.

      Within a month it would appear again. I was standing on a bulldozed pile of dirt, swearing bitterly against the man who was destroying the forest. One of my best friends was with me, and she and I had just finished spelling out “Love Earth” in acorns across the hood of the bulldozer. At a particularly heightened moment of outrage, I saw a fox sitting on the very top of the dirt pile between my friend and me. Clear as a photograph, grinning gently this time, its eyes fierce with understanding. So vivid that I suddenly stopped talking and blinked hard. It was gone. I asked my friend if she’d seen an animal of some sort near us, and she said she hadn’t.

      His name was Swift—or that was what I called my fox guide. Whenever I needed advice, especially related to nature, I’d focus, picturing myself sitting beside a stream, and wait for Swift to come and give me advice, which he did. Very wise advice—oftentimes things I hadn’t thought of, even things I didn’t want to hear but knew were in fact right. I met other animal spirit guides over time, though none were as close to me as Swift. I began seeing animal spirits around our house and in other places. I never found them frightening, and they were always very peaceful, just going about their unseen business. They were often beloved pets that had recently passed away and were still hanging around their old haunts (no pun intended!).

      A year or so later I began to talk with a spirit named Donald, who introduced himself as one of my spirit guides. There were others as well that


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