It began while driving a horse and dray
through a paddock and something quite unexpected happened. Suddenly my 'being'
was floating above the body of
a 45 years old man slumped across the seat I was dead and was
above the scene as I entered the afterlife.
went black then communication with the Spirit
In the supernatural world and
at one with the
Spirit there was no time or care but an overwhelming
sense of 'at last I can do it'. Many lifetimes
of frustration hit me but the reward was
a beautiful warm feeling and
peace unlike any other that filled the silent stillness
and heightened my senses.
Visions followed of a new life stretched out as a
line reaching into the distance. It pitched
down with falls representing difficulties to be faced
and crests the better
times. Along it dates appeared and one
stood out - age 45. But my life would not be an easy one.
Standing above my new parents as they
were married the date is
well recorded. My birth took
place a month later.
With me came full recall of the switch from life to life and another
language to parents and siblings. Beginning this life as I continued
it - more as an observer than a partaker - my reincarnation
was a great
secret and handicap as I dealt with society's expectations while
trying desperately not to shock
Aware of how my knowledge would be frowned on something
harkened me not to speak out to an unprepared world.
Religion teaches that women are weak and not creatures of God. This was one of
the first lies I would have to undo. The irony
sent me back as a woman with more power than
those who may put me down. This instilled within me a confidence that few can
A man in my last life and aware of male
tricks, egoes and methods for silencing women it was essential for me to
maintain close association with the Spirit.
Criticism for people like me makes it difficult to speak out unless
one is on very solid ground. "Oh,
she's mad" or worse "don't take any notice of her she's got the devil in her."
comments resonate in my mind of anyone who questions the establishment.
There was much I did not know and until the answers came
many years later there was no point in speaking about it and no way I would
have convinced anyone. There was, however, something about me that people
picked up and that they marveled at.
With a mountain of learning ahead only
at the peak of it would credibility for my story win out. As a small child I
could not even reach the first level.
The heat wave following my birth stands out. Placed in the bathroom at
house in a draft it was cold and lonely and I cried. It was the worst
ever heat on record at that time as
bushfires took many lives on so-called
'Black Friday'. It occurred less than 3 weeks after my birth,
Memory of those early days is peppered with such notable events.
At age 4 mum took me walking in a new
street. She was dumbfounded when I suddenly cried out "We used
to live there!" "You couldn't possibly know that,"
she responded, "you were only 3 weeks old when we moved."
The scenes of the family inside and the odd shaped room I
in gave it away.
Her reaction and stern gaze promptly shut me
up. She looked like she might faint. This is how so many children
are silenced when trying to discuss
things that confuse adults. My subsequent
withdrawal on this topic made it my big secret
linked as it is to a job waiting to be done.
Family members still discuss the other language that had
come with me and my skills and
abilities from a very young age.
Driven like a speeding train through a jungle I learned and
observed everything possible. The experience of my childhood
is not something to wish upon others and it was not
something I questioned
either for the visions had prepared me.
Struggling to be understood through the accent of
the other language created communication problems.
It governed my thinking and connected me to the
Spirit in a way that it was like my third mind. The accent stayed with me
well into my 20's when others were still pointing it out and were asking where
I came from. It was obvious that there
would be plenty of time to complete my mission.
The Spirit led me to observe
how people believe myths and things like
heaven and hell
At age 5 my dear auntie Dot died which devastated the family.
She was my mother's only sibling.
At 37 a leg clot moved to her heart when 7 months pregnant.
Then as now she held a special place in my heart. If only I could
told them how it was with her now.
Underneath the woes and pain of what life dealt
me is the separation of my spirit from the physical. Its like
a movie in which I play a role but am not really that character. I am
here to complete a mission and it seemed
an eternity before I would be able to do so. Meanwhile the preparations went on
Around 4 years of age something happened that made me aware
thatmy body is female. Dad pointed it out one day when
I was trying to do something well beyond my abilities. I think I
was trying to lift a 5 gallon drum of petrol.
"Norma,"he said, "you can't do that - you're only a
The word 'only' hit hard with the consequences of being 'only
a girl' well known to me, even at that age.
Missing the strength of my former body my mind did not readily adjust to
not having it.
The enormity of the job ahead was suddenly compounded. Not only was I
a nothing kind of base but I had the greatest of mountains to climb and
massive hurdles to jump.
It was natural to blame myself for this 'mistake'.
Religion frowns upon women who claim
to speak for God and here I was a woman, so how could that have happened? It
would be many years before an explanation came from the Spirit who planned
my arrival along with the date, sex and place of it.
My parents were aware I was different and my father often said
"she's been here before."
As if things were not already bad enough my education began around
the same time. Taken to a Catholic school, although the family are
my emotions ran wild at the sight of the nuns who terrified me
as painful, horrible
Entering the school gate clinging tightly to mum's hand it
was suddenly like being dragged to hell. One of the nuns
pried my hand loose before dragging me off screaming.
It was mid year and I was four and a
half. The other children had already been there for six months so I
was an item of curiosity to them.
A little thing for my age my heart sunk as we
the building. In my mind it was
another drastic mistake and I asked the Spirit, "why?"
Flashback images of past tortures and deaths told me of
things I should
not normally have recalled. Tortured and killed, obviously more than
once, for my spirituality in previous lives left me terribly scarred.
Now back in their
clutches the tears
were automatic and the fear indescribable.
Years later it was
shown to me that my education into man made religions and
gods was essential to do the job. Everything I learned about the Catholic
Church serves a purpose.
What happened next shocked everyone. Taken to a classroom
the nun was more surprised than me when I
kicked her hard in the shins.
An expert at torturing little girls she grabbed me by the ankles,
turned me upside down and whacked me
several times on the bottom.
The instant of my release saw me racing home as though the
me. Two high school girls gave chase but they were no match for my
Collapsing in Nanna's driveway it was my dear auntie Dot
her head out of the window in response to the horrendous screams and
told the 2 puffed
out girls, who had descended on top of me, to leave me alone.
I have watched young children face their first day
fears of school but I have never
witnessed anything to equal my first day there. The terror inside me
made its mark on my face.
I quickly sized it up in the religious sense.
Its the world of the devil and I was in hell.
Statues that stood before me everyday
as images of things that do not exist impacted on my mind like dragons.
My peers were taught in my presence that non-
Catholics are evil and can never go to heaven. In a place where I was the
only non-catholic the emotions that welled within are indescribable.
Mary were abhorrent to me from the beginning and the chills of despair in
presence of those idols are still felt.
Every day fresh flowers and candles were before them, every day prayers were
said to them, every day I cringed in the presence of this idolatrous evil.
to partake in anything the Catholics did brought instant loss of Spirit.
Forced to pray, often with tears running down my cheeks, the pain was intolerable.
They considered me a partner to Satan but my thoughts of them
was far worse. Later visions and research confirmed my thinking.
These are the
who charge for
salvation, who preach peace yet war with and teach hatred against
anyone outside their faith. Over the years in their care I heard repeatedly
the name calling and I saw the dreadful activities the children engaged in who
were considered worthy of a heavenly reward.
It was obvious that these kids did not take their religion too
It was equally obvious that they do not know
spiritual peace while genuine love is beyond their reach as they
Nor do they recognise that the Spirit directs Its own to prevent
lies, acts of violence and religious involvement.
Catholic forefathers took the notion of 'sin'
and turned the Spirit
into the devil.
claims that anything spiritual
is of the devil, including healing,
speaking in tongues, and ridiculing the Church.
They say they can forgive sins. So with great rituals and
last rites they
invoke their magic to reverse a lifetime of misdemeanors as they bury mafia
members, murderers, robbers,
and anyone else who pays them enough for eternal salvation with the promise of
a heavenly existence.
They seem completely unaware of the Spirit's instructions that
forbids idolatry of any description.
Therefore hearken not ye to your
prophets, nor to your diviners, nor to your dreamers, nor to your enchanters,
which speak unto you, saying, Ye shall not serve the king of Babylon:
For they prophesy a lie unto you to remove you far from your land, and that
I should drive you out and you should perish . . .
For I have not sent them, saith God, yet they prophesy a lie in my name, that
I might drive you out, and that ye might perish . . . Jeremiah 27:9,10,15