Revelation Antarctica: The Medium Awakens (11)

As Gordon and I explained in a previous post, we will be sharing here on the blog 99 items from the book Revelation Antarctica. This is a book meant to stir your imagination and provoke your intuition with plenty of rich images. This book exposes you to content that has been hidden in plain sight and ridicularised by many. As we embark in a new era, I believe we need to make room to get at least acquainted with certain topics such as mediumship and reincarnation. Today I’m sharing item #11.

– 11 –
The Medium Awakens

It all starts when I am 16 with a teenage crush on Melanie Nichols, a girl in my fifth form class.

I totally idealise her. Walk, talk and dream about her.

But she doesn’t want to know.

And the more she doesn’t want to know, the more I want her to notice me.

I can see Melanie sitting under the oak tree just in front of the school. She looks strange. As if… She pulls a handkerchief out of her handbag and wipes her eyes. Yes, she is crying!

Then everything changes one bright Thursday morning in early spring.

I walk towards her. She doesn’t seem to see me but just stays staring into the distance, wiping her eyes a second time.

I am now less than ten yards away from her. “Melanie…?”

She turns towards me. I can see she’s been crying a lot. Her eyes are red and glistening. Her cheeks are flushed and tear-stained. Her hair is in disarray.

“Whatever’s happened?” I ask, moving to her side.

She shakes her head slowly and then bursts into tears again. I put my arm around her shoulder and try to comfort her as she nestles against me.

This is the moment when I realise we are not alone.

I look up and see a woman standing on a bridge in front of us, watching what is happening. The morning sun is behind her, making it difficult to see many details of her features or clothes. She appears to be in her 30s and dressed in a long, embroidered dress.

“Hello Wally,” she says. Wally? How does she know all my friends call me that, instead of my real name, Jason.

She speaks again.

“I wonder if you can give my daughter a little message,” she asks.

“Yes, of course,” I answer, faltering… “But she’s right here, why don’t you…?”

“Who are you talking to?” Melanie lifts her head and looks around before looking at me again.

“She can’t see me,” says the woman. “Or hear me. So I want you to give her a message.”

I feel a shiver run through me. There’s something very strange about all this.

“Don’t be afraid. You can do something very important for me and very comforting for Melanie.”

I nod and, without thinking, hold Melanie more firmly around her shoulder and slip my other hand into hers.

“Please tell Melanie you have a message for her. And tell her not to be sad.”

“Melanie,” I say, trying to hide the feeling I’m having some kind of dream. “There’s… I mean, there’s someone here who says you can’t see her and she has a message for you. She says you mustn’t be sad.”

Melanie gives a little gasp. “Where is she…? Where…?”
“She’s over there,” I answer, pointing towards the rising sun.

Melanie gets to her feet, but keeps her hand in mine. I stand as well.

“Come closer, both of you,” says the woman extending her arms towards us.

“I can feel her,” whispers Melanie. “Mummy… you’re there. I know you’re there…”

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be sad, my Melly…” I was saying the words, but not with my own voice. I feel somehow euphoric, tuning in to the thoughts and feelings of the vision in front of me. Melanie’s mother, who must be, has to be…

“You have to be strong, my darling,” I say in the new voice. “It happened so quickly. There was no pain. Only the pain of knowing the pain you are feeling. But you must understand this is for a purpose. Thanks to Wally, you will now understand we all live forever. We only change our form. We come back to live another life, and another. And we will be together again at another time, in another time.”

Melanie nods her head and grasps my hand more strongly.

“Right now, the first thing for you to do will be to comfort your dad and especially the twins. Those dear little twins…” My borrowed voice cracks up. It is all so poignantly sad and yet full of such hope.

“I can see that,” says Melanie, in a calm, subdued voice. “I think I can understand. But it may take a little time. Will you…? I mean, will you always be there?”

“I will be here Melly. I will be here. Not always through Wally, but in your dreams. In the wind singing through the trees. In the signs pointing you to take the right decisions. In the two beautiful children you will have of your own.”

“Farewell, my dear, sweet, beautiful Melly. I love you… love you… and thank you, Wally.”

I feel a wave of energy pulse through me and then diminish, fading, fading… A huge breath of air escapes from my lungs and everything becomes “normal” again. I am standing there, still holding Melanie’s hand as both of us face the sun climbing into the morning sky.

We stay motionless for what seems to be a very long time. Although it’s probably barely more than a minute.

Melanie delicately disentangles her hand from mine, turns towards me and throws her arms around my neck, clasping me to her and whispering her words of thankfulness into my ear. I feel so complete for, somehow, being an instrument in helping her cope with this life- changing moment.

A moment destined to change my life as well.

This is when I first realise I have the gift of being a medium. Of being able to communicate with those who have gone before, passing on messages to the loved ones left behind. It is a tremendous responsibility, while at the same time one of the most satisfying things anyone can ever do for a fellow human being on this plane.

Self-reflection Exercise

I was born on April 11th. I never paid much attention to my day of birth or the number itself in that matter until a few years back. I think I was initiated into numerology in early 2015. I described the event later on my blog here in case you’re curious. Since then, 11:11 became a constant as 22:22, and many other number repetitions. The experience became really intense after being told I was an indigo child by the end of 2014, the year I can consciously say I started to ‘wake up’. One thing led to another, and I learnt that mediumship was something real and not just a woo-hoo thing. I’m a medium and I have been progressively developing or ‘awakening’ different psychic abilities since then. It hasn’t been 100% easy for me since my academic background used to be a scientific one.

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