Blog Appreciation Day, or, ‘I love This Writer’

This is a new feature I’m adopting for my blog. The blogging community is filled with inspiration, wonder, education, and talented people, and like a nest building bower bird I collect the pretty blue things.

Brenna Yovanoff is a YA author who posts short stories here. Her writing is mysterious and seductive, and I've learnt more about writing from her and her critique partners than any other source. She likes terrifying teens, was raised by gypsies, sews her own clothes, and I suspect she’s Dean Koontz’s love child (everyone knows I'm kidding right?). She also has a soon to be released pretty blue thing here.

I guess I need a disclaimer now: Brenna has not traded her grandmother’s jewelry, bribed me, knitted me a jumper, or kidnapped my cat, but she has earned my respect.

I’m sharing this story because Brenna has captured the emotion that surrounds a spirit who has not gone into the light. Every emotion is amplified. The no-light is a lonely wilderness with sanctuary tantalizingly close. Sprits ache with longing, but they cannot identify what they long for. Imagine breathing in, and then not being able to exhale for eternity. You dream, but you cannot sleep. All your senses have been turned off, but you are still aware of everything, suspended in no-time.

Fiction by Brenna: Neighbors

It takes forever for the house next door to sell. Poor For Sale Sign, rickety and crooked, like it's been leaning there all summer, all year, all my life.

The real estate agent blames the lack of interest—no, the entire state of the housing market—on our yard. She leaves a note taped to our front door, saying that no decent family would move in next to a disaster like ours, that the lawn is an eyesore. And it kind of is. I want to tell my dad to get off his ass, crawl out of the bottle and pull-start that mower, but at the same time, I don't want to tell him anything. It's easier, just walking past the mess like it doesn't even exist.

And the house does sell, despite the condition of our yard. I lie out in the weedy grass and watch the people come and go, first the movers and then the family. Their son looks my age, maybe a year or two older. He's tall and dark-haired, with great shoulders and long, graceful hands. He's always texting—never even looks up or turns around, but I don't need to know the color of his eyes to tell that he's delicious. I watch from over the fence, hopeful and terrified that at any moment, he'll turn and see me there. ( continue reading here )

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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Healing Workshop 23 May 2010

On Sunday the 23rd May 2010 I will be hosting a healing workshop at the Paradise Kids centre, 88 Allied Dr, Arundel, Gold Coast. This is the building in front of the Hopewell Hospice.

Time: 9am to 1.30pm, with a half hour break for tea and coffee.

Cost: $80.00

Bookings: Use the contact us page on my website. You can pay here, bring cash on the day, or pay me in gold.

The bookings will be limited. There has already been a lot of interest so booking early is advised.

I work intuitively so the format will be relaxed and flowing, but we will be covering this:

• Intuitive healing.
• Energy healing.
• Intent and its role in healing.
• Working with, and connecting to spirit.
• Meditating with spirit.
• Faith.
• Hands on healing.

I will be talking a lot, but I won’t be handing out piles of paperwork. I may or may not be funny, I might be shaved, but I will smell good. You will not receive a certificate in soul healing, but you will have fun and angels will love you.

See you soon, Simon.

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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No, We Don't Heal Naked Here

I’m in writing mode so I have to be brief—the muse has teeth.

I’ve had some funny things happen while I’ve been healing, so I thought I’d share one. A lady came for healing and proceeded to undress while my back was turned. I was lighting candles at the time, and when I turned around she was about to take off her singlet. A thin, here’s my breasts I don’t wear bras cotton singlet. I also noticed she had rolled the top of her I don’t wear briefs either skin tight pants down.

I smiled and casually told her, “There’s no need to take your clothes off.”

She smiled back and told me that she had been to a, I’d rather not say, healing workshop, and the people running the workshop had told one of the participants that they weren’t ready to be healed because they didn’t take their clothes off.

Impossibly her pants stretched further as she hopped onto the healing table, and I wondered if it was painful. No. Apparently not, as she made no effort to reposition her yes I have a birthmark. I concentrated on my pre-healing routine while she informed me that a lady had then undressed and presented herself for healing: music, check, dim lights, check, tan lines, check, nipples—oh crap! Check!

“She undressed in front of everyone?”

“Yes.”

“No screen or sheet to cover her?”

“No.”

In case you’re wondering, you can keep your clothes on when you come for a healing. Please.

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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Aotearoa's Calling Me Home

Besides the incredible scenery, there is always something interesting and nostalgic to enrich the experience of travelling in New Zealand. Aotearoa spoke to me as I travelled. Old wounds were healed and new ones soothed. “Listen and remember.”

I’ve explored old houses on every farm I’ve worked on. Sheltered from the rain, raised new born lambs, stacked hay bales, treated animal skins, and housed chickens where families once lived. All the ghosts are with the living. Only memories remain, caught in spider webs bullied by dust and time, and unnoticed by passersby.

As we travelled, New Zealand reminded me of all the things I’ve enjoyed:

The smell of fresh cut hay.

The thrill of the chase, smiling dogs, the smell of blood, and the satisfying weight of bringing home dinner.

I remember you.

Milking time. In the middle of winter its not so bad being crapped on by a cow.

Angels in the water.

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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Free from Perception and the Observed

An important part of my work as a healer is to heal spirit. I started doing this in a meditative state, but now I’m able to do it by being aware that it’s happening. I can do it now while I’m typing. A holographic image overlays what I’m seeing and follows the movements of my eyes and head. No matter how quickly I turn the hologram travels with me.

The only drawback is that if it’s happening when I’m in a conversation it’s noticeable that I’m not paying attention. I get in trouble the same way when I’m watching Friday night footy—sales at Cotton On are just as important as grand finals.

With clients often the same emotion, illness or injury can be found in a deceased relative in spirit. I've talked about this pattern before. By healing spirit, which many people perceive to be not real, the client’s energy field changes and vibrates at let’s-get-well.

Let’s do this. I’ll put aside every experience I’ve had with spirit, every moment of medical intuition, and all the knowledge I’ve gained. If spirit is not real then I’m healing nothing. If I’m not healing anything then I’m not even a healer. I’ve become someone who has welcomed a stranger into their home because that person is unwell.

The only tool I have left to alter that person’s state is intention. I wish them to be well. When intention is focussed you can accomplish anything. How do you focus intention?

Put aside everything:
• I’m a (?)
• I believe (?)
• I feel (?)
• I have (?)
• I need (?)

When you’re done–I am (?)

This was Jesus’ gift. He saw and felt everything because He was (?) It heightens sense, emotion, response (pain, love), and intention. He became a champion for change because he saw what everyone else could not. He was the bravest of us all.

I may have lost my way writing this post, because I’m still thinking about yesterdays post. When Jesus is with me I feel and see what has not been recorded. Everything we believe, we have created.

Intention works in the absolute of what is, free from perception and the observed

As always I welcome your thoughts and comments. Cheers, Simon.

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

Augustine the muse

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Where I talk about discrimination, Jesus and sleeping with Jason Bourne

This is possibly one of the most controversial articles I’ve posted. It is not my intention to hurt people who live with faith, and I'm aware some of my comments may do that. Jesus is an exceptional man. He is the kindest human being I’ve ever met and I’m blessed by His presence. I cannot explain the experiences I have with spirit, and I do wonder why they share the things they do.

This article appeared in Sunday’s paper (The Sunday Mail March 7):
Schools gay edict

Boulder: A Catholic School in Colorado is kicking out a preschooler because the child’s parents are lesbians.

The child will not be allowed to re-enrol next year at Sacred Heart of Jesus Catholic School.

The Denver Archdiocese said in a statement the parents were “living in open discord with Catholic teaching”.

It said students with gay parents in Catholic schools would become “confused”.

The article is here http://www.boulderweekly.com/article-1929-catholic-school-parents-upset-over-decision-to-kick-out-lesbians-child.html and I recommend reading the interview with the director of communications for the Archdiocese of Denver.

Also the priests response here http://www.fatherbillsblog.com/heart/2010/03/what-wisdom-is-at-work-in-not-having-children-of-a-gay-marriage-in-a-catholic-school.html

I started this story on the 8th of March and, after revisiting Father Bill’s blog, I suspect his post has been edited. The majority of the comments criticised the schools decision and now all comments have been removed.

What irks me about this is that the Catholic Church uses Jesus to defend their position. Since late 1999 I frequently experience flashes of memory about Jesus’ life. At times the images materialise around me and flick on and of as I blink. When I close my eyes it feels like I become an active participant in the scenes I’m observing. I hear a language which I assume is Aramaic and the conversations sometimes translate into English in my mind.

At first these experiences overwhelmed me, but now they’re familiar and I like Jesus’ company. He’s here now watching me type. Over a four month period I regularly went into a trance-like state and Jesus and members of His family used me to speak. While in trance I was unaware of what I was saying, and the conversations have become a manuscript that I hope will be published.

In the visions with Jesus I’m the disciple Judas and what I believe I’m seeing when I’m not in trance are Judas’ memories. I’m looking through his eyes and interacting with Jesus. I know Jesus never wanted to create a church and He doesn’t describe himself as a Christian. He had no respect for temples and priests. He didn’t sacrifice Himself for our sins; our sins killed Him. And he doesn’t want me to capitalise His name.

Jesus wasn’t homophobic at all. We’ve bathed together and slept together. Our clothing was poor quality and uncomfortable so in the summer we often slept naked, and it may surprise the Catholic church, but He woke up with a hard on like the rest of us. He remained unmarried, chose his lovers carefully, and had friends who were gay.

Can I prove any of this? I guess not, but the church can’t disprove it either. They’d quote from a book that has been written by anonymous scribes and edited countless times. And then do exactly what they want to do, in His name.

Jesus sighs. He’s my friend, and this stuff hurts Him.

I know it’s capitalised.

“What saddens me is that the child’s parents love each other, and that is all that’s important. The love they share comforts the child.”

Jesus is remembering His father’s tension, the raised voices and deception. He’s still, but the energy radiating from him transforms me. You know it’s real when you feel like a six year old boy with pee running down your legs. I almost look down. My legs are wet and warm. Tiny. Alone. The feeling subsides and Jesus’ hand squeezes my shoulder.

Everything remains.

I look at Jesus and think about sleeping with Him. He has an athlete’s body and his energy is exciting and complex. I don’t believe I’m gay, but I’m confident enough to not deny that I could have sex with a man, the right man. The one in a million guy, or Jason Bourne. Jesus likes that, because that’s the truth. What you deny, you create with resistance: guilt, anger and fear. Everything after that is ugly.

The child will not be allowed to re-enrol next year at Sacred Heart of Jesus Catholic School. At the what? If you want to discriminate against anyone, please do it in your own name.

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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My top 5 tips for Energy Healers

I’m asked all the time about how I heal, and although some of what I’m about to share is on my website, and scattered throughout other posts, here’s my top five tips for having consistent results. Of course these might change next week, and they should, because action and consciousness evolve as faith grows.

1) Have faith. When I mention this most people assume I’m talking about having faith in God, or in spirit. Have faith in yourself first. No matter what the outcome believe you can heal. Do not judge your potential to heal by success or failure.

2) Don’t make excuses. I hear too many people saying things like: the person’s not ready to be healed, they’ve chosen this illness for their higher good, they’ve chosen to live a short life, and … (fill the gap). Don’t buy into this at all.

3) Have no expectation. The only thing that you need to focus on is healing. I do this by repeating the phrase perfect health, but I don’t think about how that will manifest in the client. I’m only healing.

4) Every time you heal it’s the first time. There are similarities between healings, but try to avoid comparing one healing with another. This will prevent you from establishing a routine.

5) Know that you’re not in control. The only thing you control is your willingness to walk up to the table over and over again. Don’t be afraid. Dig this out of your subconscious mind. Trust me, in there, it’s screaming, ‘I’m hanging on tight!’

Good luck and happy healing. Whether you’re a healer or a patient I’d love to know what has helped you to heal.
For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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I'm Going 'Straight to Hel'

While I was in New Zealand  Helen Ginger gave me the ‘Lesa’s (Bald Faced Liar) Creative Writer’ blogger award. This is what Helen said when she nominated me for the creative opportunity to lie to my loyal readers. “Incidentally, I’m nominating Simon because, frankly, I don’t believe he can lie, at all.” My evil plan is working. I like this lady, and it’s obvious she doesn’t have coffee with any of my ex’s. I wonder if she wants to see Avatar with me.

There are some rules, but I’ve only followed these ones. Yes I’m a rebel as well as a liar!

1. Thank the person who gave this to you. (√)
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog. (√)
3. Link to the person who nominated you. (√)
4. Tell us up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth. (This is the hard one.)
5. Allow your readers to guess which one or more are true. (√)

Okay readers tell me which story is true and I’ll take you to see Avatar. No I won’t! Or, will I?

1) When I was fourteen years old I carried a 140lb wild pig for more than an hour across rugged terrain with an injury. During the kill the boar broke free from the dogs and gouged my calf with its tusks. I needed eighteen stitches to close the wound.
2) My father collected stamps and encouraged me to do so. I have a stamp worth $8,000. While collecting money for a charity I met a lady whose house was filled with stamps. I was about eight at the time and offered to mow her lawns. She paid me in bags of stamps. Inadvertently, or perhaps on purpose, I ended up with a valuable stamp.
3) When I was born I spent three months in intensive care. My heart stopped seven times. I think this is why I can talk to and see spirit.
4) I’m terrified of heights. I never used to be until I became ill. I bungee jumped in New Zealand to see if I could overcome this fear. I’m still terrified, but my back is straighter.
5) I once helped an ex jockey and rodeo rider break in four horses. I was eighteen years old with no prior experience. I rode one of the horses across a gulley and ended up suspending the horse in Manuka. All four legs were of the ground and I had to crawl under the horse and break the branches to lower the horse.
6) I’ve dug and filled in a child’s grave. I was fifteen years old at the time. The night before the funeral I slept in the marae with the family around the coffin. The young girl’s ghost slept with me.

Thanks Helen.

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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When I die will my grandson remember me?

The Te Papaiouru Marae and St Faith's Anglican Church at Ohinemutu, Rotorua, was one of the surprise highlights of our holiday. Entry is by donation only and the young girl at the kiosk made us feel welcome. Her smile was sincere and playful, and although it was the end of the day everyone we met greeted us warmly. The energy was peaceful and refreshing.

After looking at the Marae I meandered through the crypts and wondered why the bodies had been entombed above ground. Spirits of Maori accompanied me and I discovered every tomb contained a soldier. The emotions emanating from the spirits filled my lungs with syrup, but the peaceful feeling remained.

I looked up and noticed a Maori teenage boy taking photos.

“I didn’t realise they were all soldiers.”

“Yes. They were brought home to look across the lake.” Gesturing with his camera, “That’s my koro (grandfather) down there.”

A chill runs up my back and I need to swallow. I can hear the emotion in his voice, and if I speak I know I will say something mundane. We stand side by side, surrounded by silence and the dead. I don’t know how to tell him his ancestors are standing with him. He takes another photo. He asks about my holiday and if I’ve visited the geysers. I hadn’t. He smiles and I smile back. The ghosts smile as well.

He’s a local and has visited many times and yet he still takes photos. This overwhelms me. I’m in his energy so I know he takes photos to honour his koro. He never wants to forget. I was taking photos to remember. I felt like a tourist.

Te Papaiouru Marae

St Faith’s Church

For more Soul Healing, visit simonhay.com.au.

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