Healing a Spirit
The healing of the SPIRIT of my paternal grandmother Luba was spectacular thank to participation of powerful but quiet healers and loud camp of former Soviet Hierarchy overlookers . Hard to believe, but they still exist in the astral world. The “supervised” healers were Big Barlaam in astral body, the spirit from the extinct race of Giants. And there was I, the 84-year old woman. Was I still able to heal? By the way, in folklore, legends and myths women with abilities, good wise women or evil witches were oftentimes depicted as elderly ones. So I give it a shot! And we had a guest, who looked like ancient Egypt demigod, had body of Greece Olympic champ and Roman eagle nose. A simple bandana controlled his shoulder-long black hair.
Before we started the healing, a quiet sound of а distant drummer reached my ear, provoking a lucid dream type vision of a Maui shore. Red sunset was coloring quiet sea water symbolizing The First Chakra world. The quiet drumming continued, and my fingers, hitting the computer desk, tried to catch the rhythm of that inviting drumming. The door into another world was opening.
Suddenness of the Soviet “angel’s” angry voice, “Stop drumming, it interferes with my thinking!” wiped away the vision. As a teen caught by stealing test answers from a source more reliable than pupil’s memory, I stopped. Nevertheless, another vision appeared. In the open doorway between the two worlds, threatening like a footage from Andrey Tarkovsky “Stalker,” stood our Cosmic guest. Now he reminded me an Indian shaman with missing feather stack into his bandana…
Angel continued talking, “In her last incarnation, Luba suffered terrible Parkinson’s disease, Tatyana, you know it. Luba passed the God’s test courageously showing the rare patience of a real warrior, which you, the medium, do not have. Your military incarnations were short and proceeded when you were still in the lower ranks of complete subordination and died early, before living to the true agony of incurable diseases, like now. Your birth in the aristocratic family was given for many reasons, by the way, so it touched both you and your brother, also your father’s brother, Andrei’s children. Do not think that everything was ashes … everything will wake up in the children of Tallinn’s Volodya and in the girls of American Volodya, what will completely separate them from other people, as it has separated you from others. Medium, I know something about you. We admire your indifference toward awards and titles, but you are lonely. We found you a husband,” and the “angel” named my future husband’s name. After healing I asked Barlaam to pass to “angel’ my thank for thinking of me and my request stop meddling with my marriage problems. I would not marry the man, named by him. No more arrangements behind my back!
I have no healing table in my apartment. We laid Luba’s astral body on my bed covered with a new comforter. Barlaam set five pairs of two vertical hollow trunks with discharge straight into imaginary ground of Mama Earth around former chakra centers. It would lead the cleansing stuff straight into the ground. In this setting the energy would flow in two opposite directions, the red one came from earth and was lifted up into overflow back like open umbrella. The other flow, the mix of golden and violet energy, flowed from above through the body into distribution device and into earth, being cleansed by layers of ground that worked like filters. They kept the dirt, and let through the cleansed one into energy flow. It appeared again divided into multiple small jets around the discharge. The flow pressure made these jets turn back through “earth” into air forming another open umbrella laying upside down on floor. Two flows met some place in the middle and “bottled in” Luba’s astral body. The “bottle” revolved increasing its speed. Inside the “bottle” the energy mixture was stirred to look as if it was boiling. Luba’s body was literally washed by this stir of red, violet and golden energy.
My business was to call golden and violet light from the upper layers down to earth. I channeled my sacred prayers, including Our Father in Heaven… I was not behind my computer anymore. My inner self was some place else that I was not able to describe, I called light, more healing light to cleanse my grandmother.
Barlaam brought transparent red energy from earth and lifted it toward umbrella-like overflow.
And our guest, the cosmic traveler, made the mixture revolve, as in washing machine. Sometimes he lifted his head and hands and increased the flow of gold and violet energy tenfold… I knew I had seen him some place, but when and where and what was his name?
Finally, the “washing machine” stopped, as if measured amount of energy, or measured length of time were over.
Without any pause or stopping, I proposed to proceed with attempt to heal the Luba’s ether field having in mind only one topic – the haughtiness and arrogance of military commanders and aristocrats. Refocusing my eyes, I saw a large field of stoned ground of gray-beige monotonous color. The surface was not flat, it carried configurations of hillocks and a mountain grid of same color. Now, the three of us Barlaam, the guest and I—we were calling in light above to judge, to measure, to forgive and melt these configurations together with the stony ground.
It took some time, but it started to melt the gray-beige stony ether field, the cause of Parkinson and other chronic illnesses. On places of hillocks and mountains the boulders and stones exploded flowing upward into light, as it has been described by Vadim Zeland in his books about transferring, and mine unpublished cases of cleansing my dump around my “beautiful soul”! It seemed that heaven took in it all, but still, some “bouquets” of slivers and rubble fell back on ether field – as if reminding that no cleansing, neither during stay on earth, nor during life in the astral world was final! In material world, and in spiritual world alike, we manage to produce new dirt on daily bases. Who would argue with this? As above, so it is below, how long it takes to mess up a day ago cleaned apartment.
Luba’s appearance changed under our very eyes. Her husband, my grandfather Grigori kneeled next to her, kissed her hands and mumbled, “You are so beautiful, how I deserve this!”
Luba was shocked, “I need to be alone and stomach it all. Tatyana , I thank you later. Gregori and I, we will walk home.”
When the healers were done, the “angel” had chance to teach some more how to organize the proper healing without endangering outlookers with flow of stones from heaven onto their heads. Finally, I interrupt him in order to thank our guest for participation. He looked into my eyes, and touching the desk, repeated the dram’s beat that I heard at the beginning of this healing.
“Call me Tam-Tam, if you like!” – was his answer.
And I recalled where we had met. It was a year ago, when I worked on “Meditation in Memory of Grandmother Luba,” and Tam-Tam, talking to Yogananda, the Indian guru, offered me a miraculous time-travel session through granny’s relevant past incarnations as a war leader in various cultures, eon after eon, until we landed in America facing a fence adored with bloody scalps. It was the spot, where Luba asked, if she was done with her male incarnations. Her guides agreed, and she moved to her next circle of female lives revealing only in rare cases the manner of commanding not used to arguing or disobedience.
After my memorable speedy fly into Luba’s past incarnations, I asked her, if she recognized these incarnations, or they were play of my imagination?
Granny did not question any of it. She confirmed, “I know, my problems come mostly from my male incarnations. Yes,I was a warrior repeatedly.. I prefer not to dwell in these lifetimes again.”