All posts by Linden Morningstar

About Linden Morningstar

Linden Morningstar, author of Gloria Rising, has had extensive experience as a hypnotherapist and licensed marriage and family therapist, which adds depth and realism to his story. He is also the author of The Starlight Prophecy, a science fiction and fantasy novel about alien worlds and super heroines. He writes to explore the mysteries of life and the mysterious connections between the mind, universe, and the mystical. He lives with his cherished wife and four cantankerous, high-maintenance, and lovable cats in southern California.

Guardian Speaks: “There are those who have been ill, or in misfortune for so long, they are afraid to get well…”

spirit guide, supernatural

“Because it would hurt too much to think about things she had managed to wrap up the biggest part of her life in healing self-induced amnesia, she buried it all in the back of her memory. When I tried to reach her and failed, I knew the griefs of childhood persist where others fade. Inside the woman talking so calmly in a polite tone is a small child who has never been given love, never has known why, and has carried a lifelong burden of guilt and rejection because of the horrors that came with the people who entered that life. It is all complicated but it will fall into place. Do not make the mistake of thinking it will be easily done—but it will be done!

Gloria is receptive to healing treatments which attract harmonious vibrations into her life. Sometimes she forgets this until a need arises. Such is this day! For two days now she has pushed off reality deliberately. I can do no more than to say to you that two harmonious energies will always be better than one; two spiritual seekers may accomplish anything. You will literally be able to refashion, reshape and get reality to be harmonious with Gloria’s life.

There are those who have been ill, or in misfortune for so long, that they are afraid to get well; yet those are the ones who would become far happier than others who have not been fortified by trials. Such is this case. Be an open channel for love—the main ingredient—for then a healing will automatically take place.

Regard a mistake as an experience, not as darkness but as dawn. A failure conquered is a lesson in life. I remind you that the problem of tomorrow cannot be solved without the experience of today. This world is really blind—hypnosis was quackery, the first operation, and the development of ether—everything has to have a first start.

Gloria’s very weak, but she is not insane. Do not be alarmed by what she says. If Gloria’s Helper thought logically, there would be things she wouldn’t say. I’ll try not to get myself mixed up in this but only tell you where you make mistakes. It’s your talent—otherwise, I would be like a mother trying to solve a problem for her daughter.”

-Guardian

 

The Stargirls felt trapped between forces of good and evil competing for their souls

aliens, fantasy, horror, science fiction

Chapter 17:pg 102

THE STARGIRLS felt entombed and damned. Jill wondered how many maidens were sacrificed to some god . . . how many witches burned, drowned, or hanged in the name of madness . . . how many women raped and killed by righteous insane hands. She grimly shook her head, the list of injustices against women endless as she contemplated her own sacrifice. She fumbled in the cell’s gloom to find the others. Choked with emotion, she whispered, “We are alive and have one another.”

“Yes,” Lyn answered.

“We have heart.” Ali’s tone resolute.

“We are the Stargirls.” Mad growled.

“Garlig stole our innocence but not our courage to fight. If need be, let us die a warrior’s death,” Jill said solemnly.

Sade said, “Yes, it’s in our hearts and spirit to fight for our freedom.” Out of the dark, they heard their Star guide’s voice: “Stargirls, your imprisonment is unfortunate but fated by prophecy. What you must comprehend is that the Apocalypse is upon us. You are the Intergalactic Angels, ordained to inherit the power of the stars to free us from great evil, changing the fate of the Star people and your Earth’s future—“ The telepathic link was broken as light burst through the cell door.

Huge, hairy hands grabbed flesh and bone and tossed them over broad shoulders while creepy-crawly metallic eyes watched. Stunned by the sudden show of force, they surrendered. Resistance would only provoke senseless punishment. What could it mean? They were Intergalactic Angels and in the glare of an apocalyptic war. The proposition seemed outrageous, except for the fact that it was happening. The Stargirls felt trapped between forces of good and evil competing for their souls—cosmic forces that desperately sought their Star power for salvation or domination. Jill thought we inherit the power of the stars, yet any hope of escape crushed.

Inside Gloria B’s Psyche

hypnotherapy, psychological

 

Gloria Rising; xxi-xxiv

Let me begin by being honest about my personal bias. I dislike, no abhor, psychiatric jargon and diagnoses, along with long-winded case histories presented in graduate schools or grand rounds of a mental hospital. They sound solicitous and scientific, and sometimes unintentionally the diagnoses and presentation take the human out of the human being. These diagnoses tend to bias the doctor’s perception and attitude, let alone the students’, towards the person discussed, reducing him or her to an commonplace pathology—no longer a living, breathing person but an ill patient requiring treatment. Moreover, in Gloria’s case, she had received multiple and different diagnoses by trained mental health professionals who could not agree on her diagnosis. Gloria appeared like a living, walking “Rorschach” ink blot test that had confounded them as they tried, in vain, to project their well-meaning interpretations on her. However, the medical model of psychiatry, I know, has value and its place in treating the actual imbalances in brain chemistry; and such was the case with Gloria whose fleeting psychotic episodes were treated effectively with small doses of Zyprexa, while the core of her psychological suffering had yet to be exposed. If her treatment had ended there, she would have only been remembered as a case number or, worse, ended up a psychiatric casualty. I being a card-carrying pragmatist chose an empirical hypnotic approach—sometimes flying by the seat of my pants—yet always utilizing what Gloria offered me, her traumatic experiences, intelligence, awareness, insights, and yes, her troubling symptoms to help heal her. My only theory was that her symptoms were the spearhead of an underlying corrective emotional experience struggling to surface which terrified Gloria, yet was the key to her recovery and healing. Here the art, skill, and understanding of the complexity of healing would take precedence over diagnoses, medicine, and scientific approaches to behavior change. A colleague chided me about my approach saying, “I had tossed caution to the wind.” But on thoughtful consideration, I could not help but chuckle at his outrageous warning. By the time Gloria was referred to me, she had been diagnosed as suffering from a rogue’s gallery of major mental illnesses including Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder, Atypical Psychosis, and Paranoid Psychosis. It’s a wonder she hadn’t wound up lost on some back ward of a state hospital doing the Thorazine shuffle. An old chum of mine just happened to be Gloria’s family physician and referred her to me saying Gloria had difficulty falling and staying asleep due to recurrent nightmares. She had reported what sounded like visual and auditory hallucinations about a girl upstairs who she thought was trying to scare and hurt her. He said she was exhibiting other strange behaviors, yelling at the upstairs neighbor and wandering around the neighborhood in the middle of the night, disoriented to her surroundings; and she had recently been found in a confused state collapsed on a pile of snow just outside her apartment. He said she was abusing her sleeping pills and, though a lovely lady, she was a handful and wished me good luck. Prior to Gloria coming to see me, I had left her plethora of diagnoses and reports on my crafts table tucked inside my DSM-IV diagnostic manual that I used for pressing garden flowers. When Gloria came in to see me, I was struck by her small stature and thick auburn hair that hung lifelessly around her drawn moist face. She looked like she hadn’t sleep or seen the light of day for some time. She looked haggard. What held my attention was her large, prominent brown eyes that displayed fear and dread. She was emotionally tense and expressed strong ambivalence about seeking help. She spoke incessantly with pressured speech about her anger at her doctor for thinking she was crazy and, worse, she feared I would. She described feeling like a concentration camp survivor who no longer had any meaning or purpose in life and anyone left who needed her. She expressed deep discouragement and hopelessness about her life and felt she had lost her will to live. However, she denied suicidal thoughts. Gloria was beside herself with fear and anger. She irately complained about a girl above her head, in the upstairs apartment, who made alarming noises: clicking, stomping, banging sounds that disturbed her sleep and terrified her. She further complained that she had visions of wild animals on her ceiling that frightened her in the night. She expressed her fear that she would go insane if she knew she was imagining the noises she heard. Despite her damning diagnoses, her distraught presentation and apprehension that teetered on panic, I had an overwhelming hunch there was something more beneath her panicky condition. I was most concerned with her mounting nightmares and dangerous sleepwalking episodes. However, because of her desperate emotional turmoil and inability to reflect on her experience with me, I decided to hypnotize her. I felt hypnosis would facilitate rapport and trust, on a deeper level, and help establish a good personal relationship with her. Given her combative stance, which reflected her deep-seated fear that I would think her crazy, I felt her unconscious offered the best solution to our budding conflict and impasse. The absurdity of my own anxious reaction to Gloria’s rising panic would only strike me funny later. I told Gloria I understood why she was upset and reminded her I was a hypnotherapist. I asked her if I could help her relax and that she would not experience or express anything she didn’t want to. I emphasized that I would protect her so that she wouldn’t experience too much distress or emotional discomfort at any one time. This simple suggestion seemed to calm her and she agreed. Her body’s response to trance was palpable as she slumped relaxed in the chair. She was a virtuoso hypnotic subject and perhaps this was the source “spontaneous trance” of her unexplained and bizarre symptoms and behavior.

Gloria was a deep hypnotic subject and I immediately accessed her unconscious that called itself the “Helper” that stated she wanted to help Gloria. She began to describe traumatic childhood experiences in disjointed sequences that Gloria had suffered. She said they were responsible for Gloria’s terror, strange visions, and erratic behavior. The Helper had access to knowledge and information beyond Gloria’s conscious awareness. She also was able to observe and reflect on Gloria’s inner experience and behavior with penetrating objectivity. She said that Gloria was giving her trouble because she was resisting and afraid of change, and that she was remembering the past too fast and becoming terrified and emotionally withdrawn. She emphasized Gloria saw no reason to live and wanted to die because she was afraid to love since she equated love with pain. Here, in our first contact, Gloria’s Helper began to outline Gloria’s psychological crisis and some of the difficulties that would lie ahead, for both of us, to reach and help Gloria. Because Gloria’s nightmares were the focal point of her terror and emotional disturbance and her emerging awareness of her underlying trauma, I suggested to the Helper that when Gloria awoke from a nightmare that she put Gloria in a trance and write down what was terrifying her, rather than Gloria being trapped in a confused state of arousal that caused her to rave at her upstairs neighbor or sleepwalk. I wanted to thwart any further perilous behavior and events. The Helper was receptive to my post-hypnotic suggestion and felt she could carry it out. At the conclusion of this session Gloria awoke feeling more relaxed and without any sign of pressured speech, fear, anger or panic that she had presented with. A good outcome, I thought. However, intuitively I felt Gloria’s therapy would be like a combat soldier, on hands and knees, deftly placing a knife in a mine field’s dirt, then gently probing to get through the maze of mines without getting blown to pieces. Likewise, I had to be vigilant not to plunge her further into madness or suicide. In our following session Gloria arrived looking perplexed holding a sealed envelope addressed to me, stating that she had found the envelope in her home but did not know who wrote it or how it got there. She brought it to me because it was addressed to me. I reassured her that she had done the right thing and should bring any further letters to me. She accepted this suggestion without question. This odd but critical development in our relationship Gloria seemed to intuitively trust. Thus, began her hypnotic dream therapy and our quest. Over the strange course of her healing journey with me, she would bring me 202 sealed letters that I would read and then conduct her hypnotherapy. Amazingly, Gloria never read one of them or ever asked what was in them. She had put her entire trust in me—had put her life in my hands— from the first day we met.

Dr. Adam Jaxon 

 

The Stargirls Stare Down Death

aliens, psychic connection, Starlight Destiny, teleportation

Chapter 12 Pg. 64-69 ∞ The Starlight Prophecy

A green pall materialized from the darkness; and they gawked at each other, thankful their eyesight was restored and awestruck by their bodies’ ghostly green color. They spread out, looking for a way out. Lyn stumbled on a large mandala with curious interlocking patterns on the cavern wall that resembled the symbol in their dream. Its motif had a mystifying cipher text she feared defied analysis. Although she knew cryptography, number and information theory, computational complexity, and quantum computing, what she stared at baffled her. She decided Occam’s razor was the answer. Entia non sunt multiplicande praeter necessitatem. She thought keep it simple, baby. She boiled her analysis down to combinatorics theory and the fundamental number Pi. She hoped her calculations would expose the meaning and purpose of the mandala. They gathered around her and gazed at the enigmatic pictograph while Lyn checked and double-checked the alien signs. She felt those signs were a set of laws to the cosmos similar to the image of Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man whose body reflected the universe. That is when the mandala’s secret design hit her. Ali peeked over her shoulder. Lyn felt her breathing down her neck and said, “Do you see that?”

“See what?”

“Hold on a moment.” She examined several symbols.

Ali grew impatient, shaking Lyn. “See what?”

Lyn pointed to several symbols, which meant nothing to Ali, and said, “These symbols are mathematical constants in the mandala’s design. Whoever put this here wanted us to find it. What you are looking at created by an advanced intelligence. Mathematically, these five symbols activate the mandala and put the universe at our finger tips.”

The symbols revealed five star-points within the alien matrix that represented a derivative of the transcendental number pi, the optimal number she had been looking for. Lyn sighed deeply. “Listen up. This may sound incredible, but I think these symbols represent a teleportation access code.”

Mad blinked. “Did I hear right . . . teleportation?”

“Yes, a quantum teleportation code to the stars.”

“You can’t mean ‘Beam me up, Scotty,’ do you?”

“Yes, but not science fiction. I think I broke the code to the star system in our dreams and the extraordinary events that brought us here, but it is a test. “Do you remember the Great Sphinx, Abu al-Hôl, Father of Terror, and the Greek Sphinx who strangled all that could not answer its riddle? I am afraid this alien brainteaser is the Alpha and Omega that has been cursing me. “You see the laser light that blinded us was a warning to trespassers. Whoever left this message did not want anyone accidentally accessing its secrets. I hate to think what would happen if they failed—or if we fail. “Nevertheless, I think I have the cosmic answer to its challenge.” She swallowed hard and mustered her courage. “However, if we fail, I think it will cost us our lives.”

“What are the odds you’re right, a flip of the coin if we set this thing off?” Mad demanded.

Sade interrupted. “My intuition says it’s a go.”

“Sade, with all respect, it’s our lives at stake.” Jill objected.

“Jill, we are on a quest. Come on, do you want to live forever?” Ali chided.

Lyn laughed. “Let me be the devil’s advocate. I figure a 90 percent chance it will work. You all know something beyond Earth is calling us. Jill, didn’t you say it was our destiny, back in Malibu?” “Yes.”

Ali declared, “It’s our way of putting the star in Stargirls.”

“Who can fight that?” Mad agreed.

“Looks like the Alpha brats rule.” Jill capitulated.

Life is difficult at best, Lyn thought. The choice was to run or bravely leap into the unknown. She understood their choice would forever define them and their fate. “Okay, is it a go?” Lyn asked. Without thinking, they embraced her shouting, “One for all and all for one! We are the Stargirls forever!”

Lyn forced a smile, “Okay, the alien mechanism means life or death, depending on how we activate it. Kind of a 50s nuclear missile, fail-safe system where two controllers turned two keys to bring their Intercontinental Ballistic Missile to life; but that’s where the analogy ends.” She paused. “The point being, hidden within the mandala’s encrypted symbols are five star-points. Mathematically, when they come together they form a perfect geometric star that should release the mandala’s energy—but there is a catch. Each point is a trigger, and we must press them together in concert. Pressed out of sequence, we will never know what happened. Whoever created this technology designed it to self-destruct if it fell into the wrong hands. “Now, place your fingers on your star-point, and when I say ‘Ready?’ you shout ‘Ready!’ back to me. Then, when I give the command, press your star symbol—any questions?”

Jill warily said, “Wait! Let’s not screw up. What command?”

Lyn blushed. “Oops. Star power. She then double-checked their positions and took her own. “Ready?” They shouted, “Ready.” The Stargirls were following her—hollow-eyed, trusting, and hopeful. Without hesitation, she gave the command, “Star power.” Directly, they pressed their star-points and stepped back. In that gut-wrenching moment, the Stargirls mesmerized as the mandala blazed and the cavern wall flickered, and then rippled in kaleidoscopic light. Suddenly, the mandala imploded and the wall vanished.

* * *

The Stargirls lounged on rainbow beach towels while Malibu’s summer sun baked the sand. Ali said, “Boy, its hot and sticky.”

Lyn added, “Pass me the sunscreen—” while Jill and Sade sipped tart lemonade, puckering their lips. Jill commented, “Hmm, southern California, land of milk and honey—yet today it’s a tropical paradise.”

Sade replied, “Life’s good.”

Ali asked, “Why do you think we picked these bright rainbow towels?”

Mad chortled, “Simple—to attract attention. Men like alluring, sexy colors.”

Lyn tittered and smiled. “I think they have a deeper meaning than a mating ritual.”

Ali sniggered. “Kind of reminds me of when our hormones erupted and our parents freaked out.

Jill howled. “Yeah, that was a crazy time.”

“Remember how Mad got caught sneaking out to see her boyfriend?” Sade taunted.

Mad scowled, “You stinker …” and rolled over. “Watch out, I’ll feed you to the sharks.” The rhythmic sound of the shore break, chatter of sea gulls, and sun’s heat lulled Mad into a sleepy state, while sun- struck surfers turned waves into thrill rides; and dogs flew like Olympian gods catching Frisbees and dove in waves like dolphins fetching tennis balls. Defying leash laws intended to keep them from being Olympian gods or dolphins.

“What a wonderland—it makes my heart sing.” Ali mused.

Sade said, “Why don’t we join the surfers?” “Good idea.” They trotted toward the water, feet on fire, singing a hilarious chorus of; “Ooh . . . ouch . . . ouch . . . ooh . . . ah . . . ouch—“ until they dove into the water. The others sat, crowing at the comical sight. Jill said, “I wish I had a camera.”

“This is the kind of day we work hard for.” Lyn said.

Mad’s eye popped open. “Let’s join the fools and not waste it.”

Jill stretched and stood up. “Okay, last one in is a rotten egg.” She raced over the fire pit and dove in the shore break. Time seemed lost as they bodysurfed and built sandcastles and families came and went like the tide. Seagulls circled above, as others strutted on beach-stealing snacks. One big white gull pecked at a bag of chips until it gave up its salty treasure. An afternoon breeze turned the heat down. Mad shivered and said, “We’d better rescue our rainbows or the tide will claim them.” They reluctantly left their ocean playground and picked up their towels to dry off. Lyn, drying her hair, heard the sharp howl of dogs and thought it odd. “What do you think is stirring them up?”

Mad replied, “I don’t know, but look,” pointing to the sky teeming with brown pelicans and western gulls heading south.

Sade said, “Must be thousands; it’s unusual.” Their masses blocked the sun and cast crablike shadows around them. No sooner had the exodus passed than another wave of birds flew low and hard going south. Their agitated squawking startled them.

Lyn said, “What’s going on?”

Ali shouted, “What in God’s name!” pointing to the ocean horizon where a colossal object hovered.

Lyn screeched, “Jill, toss me your phone. I want to call a friend at NORAD,” but before she could, a terrific boom shook the beach. Involuntarily, she turned toward the deafening sound, stunned by what she saw. The object, now clearly in view, moved closer to the shoreline. It hovered thousands of feet above them, rotating counterclockwise on its axis. Awed, she tilted her head back. Her jaw dropped, and she gaped at the translucent object—a red, ethereal, whirling entity in the white-blue sky, emitting fantastic bursts of energy.

A mushroom cloud materialized over the object, forming a massive anvil thunder dome. The thing she thought, at a loss for words, gyrated faster and faster, glowing bright reddish-orange. Pulses of energy surged into the sky and sizzling and cracking lightning struck the ground, causing her hair to stand on end and spark. The Pacific Coast Highway’s sandstone cliffs moved from the force of the sonic boom, causing huge landslides that buried everything. Lyn screamed, “Mad, what’s going on?”

“All I know is that super cell looks deadly,” she replied, as a violent gust of wind bent them over. The sky turned to night as the object’s red glow created a shaft of light that pierced the ocean, causing it to boil. Three bluish-white tornados appeared curling and twisting like poisonous snakes, heading for the beach. Mad let out a shriek, “Get out of here.”

Lyn yelled, “Run for the cottage.”

Mad screamed, “No, take the jeep; we’ll escape south like the birds.” Lyn fumbled and dropped the keys. She grabbed them and slid into the driver’s seat. Jill rode shotgun, and the rest squeezed into the back. Torrential rain beat down as Lyn barreled off the driveway, driving like a maniac. She turned south along the shoreline. Mad glanced back and gasped. The sky turned greenish black as a massive wedge tornado touched down, annihilating everything. Cars, people, and million-dollar homes hurtled through the air as a rescue copter crashed. “Faster, faster or we’re dead!” Mad shrieked. Lyn squinted through blinding rain, as baseball-size hail crashed down. They screamed until their voices gave out, “Go . . . go . . . go.” The jeep hit a rut that blew a front tire, ripping the wheel from her hands, causing the jeep to veer and flip over. Shaken, they helped each other out of the jeep. Jill glowered at the flat tire and said, “Let’s make a run for it.”

Mad looked back. “It’s too late.” They hugged goodbye and turned to face their fate. Holding hands, heads high, they courageously faced the wedge of Black Death that swept them away—

* * *

Lyn was oddly aware; she was peering into a Star Chamber with gleaming transparent walls that reflected the past, present, and future. Gradually, she realized she was looking into a space-time crystal ball, a cosmic ball she had once gazed into as a small child. She realized they had left their bodies in the mandala’s cavern and had not even noticed. She felt the others but could not see them. She heard Jill’s pleading voice call out, “Are we dead or alive?”

Lyn tried to respond but could not find her own voice. Mesmerized by the shift in space-time, she realized their nightmare of annihilation was a subconscious projection, a projection of their deepest fears when they pressed the star symbols, not knowing whether they would live or die. Regardless of its reality, she was thankful they survived the killer alien tornado.

Mad, in exasperation, cried out to the unseen force, “Why did you summon us? There must be a reason. Tell us.” She heard a dreamlike voice.

“You are Stargirls.” The voice paused, letting the fog and confusion of their nightmare to lift. Lyn found her voice, “But why us?” “You are the chosen ones by prophecy; you have proven your worthiness. A time warp brought you here. The one you opened was no accident. It was left a hundred thousand years ago just for you. Your Star training as children has prepared you well. You are ready for the next stage in your evolution.”

Her disquieting words shifted reality, creating an energy-womb within them, a powerful psychic connection to their puzzling destiny.

The Guardian speaks on the Power of Human Channels

automatic writing, hypnotherapy, spirit guide, supernatural

Gloria Rising: pgs. 170-171

“For now, I will say that God endowed humans with a great many powers

and forces; and some of the creative, constructive powers can only be

passed on through channels of others—in this case, Gloria.”

“There is something I need to say. Any form of information can be of

help if it is received at the right time. Gloria’s sore throat has to do with

an identification imprint, and I would like to give you fragmentations of a

suggestion—‘lilacs’; ‘summer day’; ‘scarecrows.’ Unless I tell you this, you

may start chasing down blind alleys. Two or three imprints are blocking

observation at this time. The fact that the unconscious, Gloria’s Helper,

made a mistake in judgement should not be allowed to cause negative

emotions. The unconscious has a child integrity. Good concentration

(yours and Gloria’s) is a definite asset in this work.”

“A sign of her healing emotionally is when she can talk normally about

things that used to terrify her.”

“You’ve built her up, or she would have gone crazy or died. You helped

her get out a lot of violent feelings.”

“Healing Gloria takes time. It took years to build up all her emotional

problems. Kept her past hidden, pushed away, a big secret. There’s a lot to

be remembered, a lot to be gone over and reviewed, so Gloria’s Helper can

change her mind and better influence Gloria.”

“Letters are good too, creating a lot of tension while at same time,

bringing the whole thing to a head.”

“What you sense in your heart and feel in your conscience must

be the greatest part of your training. You must have confidence of your

experience. If people only were not so afraid, such abundant unconscious

resources could be put to use for progress. People are still groping in the

‘Dark Ages’ where limited conscious beliefs trap them in a microscopic box

of awareness—unaware of what lies beyond, what is possible.”

Gloria’s Helper, “… Early this morning I heard a voice, a huskier voice

like a man’s voice, so much good in it. It seemed to come from something

bigger than me. It said, ‘You were drifting off and thought you were dying.

You’re really not. What’s happening is the old you is dying. You’re lucky to

have a second chance; most people don’t have. Life will be filled with love.’

All of a sudden I realized I wanted to live.”

“Too many dysfunctions at this time. The ‘unconscious’ takes things

literally, sees what it sees. Has gone off again feeling extreme guilt. Need

to work with unconscious feeling guilty about many things. I know it is

hard, confusing, like dealing with three stories going on at once. You’ve

gotten fragments but it will make sense. Gloria’s Helper believes she killed

the ‘Other.’ She needs to believe that for now. At least she’s beginning to

accept a painful reality and not running away.”

“As you started this journey what would it have profited had you worried

about the closed door ahead? Power and your talent operate through

human channels, as you have seen. So this is the continuing lesson: Just

go step by step—as you continue in spite of every obstacle. You will never

cease to be thankful for this time of learning.”

Guardian Quotes: My power to help is limited by what a human being is willing to give me

ghosts, spirit guide, supernatural

“There will be knowledge made known that will be of interest to you and that will add to your love of life. The person you are helping will have important knowledge for you as well. I wish you an uplifted feeling to help you along today—to follow your talent. Do not get discouraged. Good contact is being made; so is increased awareness. Bear in mind, I pose no threat to you. I’m detached from rivalry or anything of that sort.”

“Mere consciousness is not awareness. Consciousness is of the physical brain while awareness is of the mind—this is part of the soul. Thinking and working out problems has to do with consciousness. Inner knowing—telling me that I am and I, too, exist—this awareness is the link to God, the Creator.”

“Letters are good too, creating a lot of tension while at same time, bringing the whole thing to a head.”

“What you sense in your heart and feel in your conscience must be the greatest part of your training. You must have confidence of your experience. If people only were not so afraid, such abundant unconscious resources could be put to use for progress. People are still groping in the ‘Dark Ages’ where limited conscious beliefs trap them in a microscopic box of awareness—unaware of what lies beyond, what is possible.”

“There will be times when you want to just walk away from it and forget the whole business. Don’t! Stick with it. When you look back on it, you will be amazed at the progress made. I will guide your efforts and Gloria’s efforts.”

“My role is to bring you knowledge so you have the assurance and confidence you need for the work ahead of you to help Gloria reach her full potential as a human being. My job is enjoyable, a work of love and pleasure. To see two human beings become as greatly as they can be is certainly not a duty. I stand for faith, hope, charity, and love—the good things in life. You could call me a good influence. I create love and blessings.”

“Gloria and Gloria’s Helper are to help themselves, first of all. If they did not want to help themselves, I couldn’t help at all. What they or you get confused about, or threatens you or them, then I am able to step in by feelings of love, nature and blessings to enable you back to an optimistic nature. Instead of your being pessimistic, I help you see the truth, the reality of things, not pessimism. I have to leave you in comfort and encouraged—couldn’t leave you depressed and discouraged, then I would fail. You see the whole thing has been an optimistic act. So what we have done is an act of procreation and love. We all stuck together so Gloria didn’t commit suicide. There was always someone to pick us up. That’s how we work together as ONE.”

“Understand my work is important; but if the person I am sent to help refuses to acknowledge me, or to help themselves, I eventually withdraw. However, I do not intrude nor pose a threat. I only come when a person is open for help. For example, I have another mission I am working on—a desperate man who called out for help. Regrettably, he’s a stubborn old alcoholic who has thrown his good life away and now resists my guidance, love, and blessings. My power to help is limited by what a human being is willing to give me. I am afraid in this case I might fail. A pity.”

Dr. Adam Jaxon: A Port in Many Storms

automatic writing, healing, hypnotherapy

AUTOMATIC LETTER 124, pg. 186

Wednesday night

Dear Port in Many Storms,

Sleep came quickly tonight. So did dreams – dreams twisted into nightmares.

When Gloria sleeps she’s like a frightened child – she’s either running from someone or is trapped by someone. In this dream she was an adult though – in one dream she was cold – too cold but there was no warmth, only fear, leaving her weak. She tried to scream but no sound came – she tried to run but her feet weighed as much as big rocks deeply rooted into the earth.

She had to try harder to move or she’d never get to you before the “Other” did.

She was broken and bleeding, screaming finally, reaching, and stumbling but she had to get to you. The “Other” was laughing and the sound was colder than frigid wind. He said, “You didn’t know about Gloria’s amnesia – the nightmares that lapped over into nights triggered by a word – did you know that she was afraid of going crazy?”

Even in the dream Gloria was sure if she could reach you first you’d be a lifeline capable of pulling her beyond the reach of whatever terror stalked her. She had survived the deaths of many, now she was trying to survive a different kind of death – a shattering loss of belief in herself, in her own strength, her own mind. Now she was trying to ask herself if it was worth it, any of it, if there was no end to fear and loss and deaths. Then she remembered how you had survived also and how strong you were – it showed in your movements, in your laughter, in the clean male lines of your face – she wasn’t terrified of you like with others and yet you were strong in mind and body – you moved with the easy strength that always fascinated Gloria yet your voice was gentle and your hands were – beautiful – an odd way to describe anything so strong and quick as a man’s hands yet that is the word – not all hands had affected Gloria like that – sometimes she saw hands and terror was in her. But I’m getting away from the dream here (you’re not often in our dreams). I was telling you how Gloria was trying to reach you first before the “Other” so he wouldn’t be able to convince you that she was losing her mind and imagining the real fear and the pain and terror of death he gave her – but no matter how she tried she couldn’t get to you and when she woke up she was so happy it was just a dream.

Gloria’s Helper

 

Chapter 23: AN EVIL TWIN MASQUERADES AS LYN TO CONTROL THE STARGIRLS

fantasy, horror, science fiction

CHAPTER 23

THE STARGIRLS TRAPPED in a ghoulish reality. Laya, their warden and otherworldly friend, was no more. Life cheaply played out for Aagaatar’s indulgence to torture them into submission.

“The Aagaa craves death and destruction, an ethos of death,” Jill lamented.

“It’s a mantelpiece of atrocities premeditated to inflict fear, chaos, and terror to control Aagaatar’s enemies and our minds.” Ali added.

“How can you fight terror and insanity? How can we rout humanity’s scourge?” Mad implored.

Sade felt an opening to size up Lyn and said, “Maybe Lyn can help.” The Stargirls guardedly approached who they believed was Lyn, isolated in a corner of the cell. “Lyn, we’re at a loss to find a way out of this mess. What do you think?”

Lyn’s face contorted, her lips twisted cruelly. “Your fear of Aagaatar’s truth defeats you. We must do what he says or die. We are the Stargirls—remember. One for all—blah, blah, blah . . .” Lyn’s outburst shocked them.

Sade ignored her attack and countered, “If necessary, we would die for each other—right?”

“Don’t play stupid games, just do what he says.” Her stinging retort left them more confused than ever.

Sade frustrated bit her lip, feeling the Stargirls oneness fracture, while Jill wondered what happened to the sister she loved, fearing Sade was right. The thought ate at her. Sade angrily said, “Your response is baffling and falls on deaf ears. Can’t you do better than that?”

Lyn angrily replied, “You seek freedom in all the wrong places. Freedom is surrender. I shall say nothing more.”

Jill intervened. “Okay, enough,” and stomped away. Dissension like poison brewed between Lyn and the Stargirls, an ill feeling they had never experienced before. Ali moaned. “Is this the end to the Stargirls?”

Horrified by the question, Jill cried, “No.” Suddenly the cell door burst open and a creepy-crawly thing dragged Lyn away. Stunned, they gaped at each other, not knowing whether to protest or feel grateful. “What’s happening to us?” Jill murmured.

Sade, at a loss, stared at her. “I wish I knew.” “We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” Jill vowed.

* * *

Lyn’s clone, suddenly, delivered to Aagaatar. He had awakened groggy from the Ogganda and goaded with its failure to enlighten his mind. Infuriated, his massive brow bunched in consternation as he waited for her report. She entered his inner sanctum and a deadhead greeted her with a nauseating grin. She bowed and said, “Lord Master, what is your desire?”

Aagaatar’s saw blades clicked viciously and he snarled, “What do I desire? Are you a test tube imbecile or freak of genetics? Did you persuade them to serve me?”

“Lord Master, I fear the aliens sense something is wrong; they stare oddly at me and their questions are hostile. I have the aliens’ memories, but cannot relate to these creatures’ emotions. Their ways are strange. I need your help.”

Aagaatar’s face turned a vile red. “Lucky you still have your head, having failed God Aagaatar. You must use their fear and doubts against them. Make them believe serving me is their only hope. Fail me again and you will feel the blade of Aagaatar’s vengeance across your throat. Tell the aliens you were tortured. I will help.” He motioned to his Zurkaa guard.

“Thank you, Lord God Aagaatar.” She turned to leave when the Zurkaa’s deadly eyes viciously beat her to the floor and a creepy-crawly seized her. She screamed in agony. Aagaatar howled, “The help you asked for is granted. Now they will beg your forgiveness and be putty in your hands, so you can mold them in my image.”

Lyn’s shocking abduction had caused the Stargirls to question their doubts about her. Jill said, “Regardless, I’m concerned about Lyn.”

Ali’s voice trembled. “No matter what, she’s still our sister.”

“You’re both right,” Sade said. Suddenly the portal opened and what Sade saw made her wince. A creepy-crawly was dragging Lyn’s hemorrhaging body across the cell floor. Her gory face made them weep. They rushed to her side.

Jill frantically screamed, “Get back . . . let me tend to her. She needs to breathe—get some cold compresses.” She checked for signs of life from the sister she loved. Ali handed her wet towels, wondering how she could have doubted Lyn. She turned cold and shivered, looking at Lyn— close to death. Tears clouded Jill’s vision. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and choked back sobs. “Lyn, can you hear me?” Lyn was unresponsive.

“She’s got a pulse—she’s alive. Did you hear me? She’s alive.” Ali put her hand on Jill’s shoulder.

“Yes, thank God.” Mad struck her fist into her palm and swore, “Aagaatar.” Sade’s head sagged with guilt. Jill pleaded, “Please, God, let her be okay. Please—”

* * *

Down a claustrophobic passageway, within earshot of the Stargirls, the real Lyn lay cloistered in her cell. Her translucent prison door cast jagged light that played coldly on her glazed eyes. She lay paralyzed and semiconscious with her eyes frozen open. She could not turn from the glittering light that engulfed her and glinted off her pale face and impassive eyes. She felt caught in a strange fog, under the impression she was driving through mountain mist that rose from melting snow near Lake Tahoe. The headlight glare, reflecting off the fog, made her anxious while perilous cliffs threatened violent death. Nightmarish faces leered through fogged-over windows, and shrill screams broke the night air. She jammed on the brakes to gain control, but the brakes failed. She careened out of control down the mountain pass—then everything went black. She thought she heard something, the hiss of a serpent . . . it made her quake. The serpent’s hiss grew louder and closer. What was it? The hissing penetrated layers of her dim consciousness. It felt like a surgeon’s scalpel probing her brain to detect electrical activity and signs of life. The ominous hissing changed into a voice that gripped her.

The garbled voice grew clearer and anxiously called out, “Lyn . . . Lyn. Wake up. You must wake up. Death stalks you, death calls to you and the Stargirls . . . wake up . . . wake up.” Drugged and under Aagaatar’s spell, Lyn grasped for reality, hanging on to the unfamiliar name. She felt groggy, as if she was flying blind into a mountain until one eye focused . . . then both. The vision of a phantom floating above her shocked her. The backlight revealed the outline of a huge snakehead swaying as large, luminous eyes stared at her—and broke Aagaatar’s curse. Lyn gasped as her sensibility returned; she realized who she was and said, “Who are you?”

“I came to save you and the Stargirls.”

Lyn got her bearings and said, “You are the serpent with three eyes that Sade talked about.”

“Yes, Aagaatar’s mystic sorceress, enslaved to do his will—but, more importantly, here to help you. Your life is in danger and Laya is dead.”

“Laya is dead?”

“Yes, Aagaatar killed her. We plotted together to end his Final Solution. I am the Star people’s rebel leader.”

“You?” Lyn paused, “Are you the one Laya said would help.”

“Yes.”

“How do you speak English?”

“I don’t. Our minds are linked in a hyper-psychic state.”

“Are the Stargirls okay?”

“Yes, but they are under Aagaatar’s psychic siege. He replaced you with an impostor to trick your sisters into surrender.”

“How is that possible?”

“Remember—a Zurkaa rammed you just before you entered Aagaatar’s space-time projector.”

Lyn looked at the spot of blood on her sleeve and said, “You mean he recreated me?”

“Yes, your genetic material replicated by a molecular mutation device.”

“Oh my God, how could it mimic me?”

“Easy—it has your memory, although it has one major flaw.”

“What?”

“Emotionally it is a child—and its stubbornness is hard to miss.”

Lyn shook her head in disbelief. “Great, but what do we do?”

“I removed Aagaatar’s hex on you; and when it’s safe, I will return to purify you. A mind-altering drug poisons you. Death awaits me if Aagaatar discovers I am betraying him. I will help . . . but must go.”

“Wait. What’s your name?”

“Soulmaa—but my people, the Trions, call me the Pyramid Lady. When I return, we will fight for life—beyond Aagaa death.” She vanished in a blaze of ion light. Lyn’s numbed body tingled back to life. The thought of an evil twin masquerading as her horrified her. She would use the Stargirls’ love against them. She tried to think, but her jumbled mind refused; the powerful drug made her yawn, trying to control her. She fought back and raised her fist in defiance, shouting, “Aagaatar, we will defeat you.”

How I met a Ghost

ghosts, hypnotherapy

“… Yet, I never imagined ghosts in my house, let alone a wise ethereal presence talking to me as if we were old friends, until I met Gloria. And now that confounding reality was sitting in front of me. Before you experience Gloria rising from dark evil places, I wish to immerse you in the eerie world of the Guardian and the unbelievable impact the Guardian had on me and Gloria’s therapy. Only then will you experience, understand and appreciate the greatness of her ascent.

Gloria took to hypnosis like a zealous skydiver jumping off Mount Everest from dizzying heights into an abyss. In this respect, she was fearless. She loved my arm levitation induction which resembled a magician’s sleight of hand, except it was real magic that took Gloria time traveling into her sordid past and on higher astral voyages.

The hypnotic arm levitation was well suited for Gloria’s need to experience catalepsy and deep trance where Gloria’s Helper and I could do our work, and it was necessary to reach the Guardian’s higher vibration of energy and reality.

In the beginning, I would hold her right wrist very, very gently and lift slightly almost imperceptibly with just the slight suggestion the arm was levitating. I enhanced the effect by the slight movement of the arm this way or that until her arm levitated by itself. Invariably, this led to a deep trance and communication with Gloria’s Helper.

In the process I would later discover if I simply lifted her arm higher, this triggered my contact with the Guardian. The Guardian from the start would speak through Gloria’s voice without the theatrics of a split personality. It was Gloria’s voice but not Gloria. Through the course of her therapy the Guardian would only appear if called on—never intrusive, only offering support, encouragement, and omniscient insight and understanding into Gloria’s emotional disturbance. In case you have forgotten, I must remind you that the Guardian was Gloria’s deceased husband, Greyson, a shocking fact that even I had a hard time wrapping my mind around.

Nevertheless, I am pleased to present the channeled messages from the Guardian that encompass and enlighten Gloria’s therapy. The Guardian’s messages were fascinating, thought provoking and decisive to the success of Gloria’s therapy. Some messages towards the end were answers to my questions about the Guardian’s nature and being—bold and blunt questions that challenged his reality and who he claimed to be. I probed whether the Guardian was a dissociated or split personality of Gloria’s personality, questions my lifetime of scientific training and rational mind forced me ask. Nonetheless, I felt self-conscious as if I were questioning the Wizard of Oz hiding behind a curtain.

The Guardian’s responses were always lighthearted, humorous, unoffending, and illuminating as you will see. The Guardian’s words and profound messages often made my mind whirl with astonishment and wonder. In the beginning the Guardian’s messages were terse until the Guardian could take full control of Gloria’s body and then the messages became grander as long as Gloria’s energy could sustain them.”

Dr. Adam Jaxon

The author asks, “Do you believe in ghosts?” “You will after reading Gloria Rising.”

hypnotherapy, spirit guide

Gloria Rising, pg. 164

“Yet, I never imagined ghosts in my house, let alone a wise ethereal presence in my house talking to me as if we were old friends, until I met Gloria. And now that confounding reality was sitting in front of me. Before you experience Gloria rising from dark evil places, I wish to immerse you in the eerie world of the Guardian and the unbelievable impact the Guardian had on me and Gloria’s therapy. Only then will you experience, understand and appreciate the greatness of her ascent.”

Dr. Adam Jaxon