Revelation Antarctica: The Medium Is The Messenger (22)

I was living in the UK when I participated in a mediumship session at a nearby church. At that time, I still had my reservations regarding mediumship and my own qualities as a medium. I remember talking to myself and offering me encouragement to simply go with an open mind. So did I, in the company of a local friend who was also fascinated by the topic. I was offered a very intriguing reading. I was told about a lady who was surrounded by roses and a gentleman who wore a vintage hat. I believe they were my great grandparents. If I remember correctly, I was told to have time to smell the roses. At that time, this message made sense though, because I was overwhelmed with stress and anxiety at work. I wish I had repeated such experience while I had the chance, but I never returned to the church, mostly due to my skepticism. Year later today, I accept my gifts and I have also had plenty of proof that mediumship is real and it can play a huge role on people’s transformation and healing. Today’s Revelation Antarctica item addresses this subject and also another very interesting topic which is the meet up and union of soul mates.

About Revelation Antarctica

Written by Gordon Keirle-Smith, Revelation Antarctica is a book rich in provocative content and rich visuals designed to entice your imagination and guide you through a journey that will make you question humanity’s origins, the impact of the Moon on human behaviour, the existence of a highbred elite wanting to keep humanity under control, among other interesting topics such as reincarnation and mediumship. In a partnership with The Wellbeing Blogger, Gordon Keirle-Smith has been publishing and sharing items of his awesome book here on the blog and to which you can find hyperlinks to here.

This week’s item:

– 22 –
The Medium Is The Messenger

“I’d never have thought so many people would come to something like this,” Cass whispers into Rob’s ear, looking around the packed hall.

            “You’d be surprised,” he replies. “It all boils down to finding out who you really are and if you’re on the right track.”

            “Is this guy very well-known?”

            “Oh yes, certainly here in the UK and in the States.”

            “But how can you be sure he’s genuine? I mean he might be faking it.” Cass looks around the hall again, trying to work out how ‘normal’ the rest of the crowd looks…

            “You’ll see, Cass,” says Rob, grasping her hand. “In any case, what have we got to lose?”

            “Ladies and gentlemen…” a smartly dressed man carrying a microphone walks out onto the stage. The house lights dim as two powerful beams isolate him in a pool of brilliance.

            “Thank you for coming here to the Barbican tonight and thank you for your support. Now, before Jason comes on stage, I would just like to explain to you how the evening will play out.

            “Jason needs between 10 and 15 minutes to ‘take the temperature’ of the audience, as he puts it. This allows him to identify spirits on the other side who want to make contact. Of course, as usual, he will also be looking out for any Soul Mates in the audience who may, or may not, have already identified each other.”

            “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Jason Carmer…”

The pools of light sweep across the platform towards the right, just as a man, apparently in his early 30s, steps out from the wings and strides confidently to centre stage. He bows slightly, arms outstretched, acknowledging the applause as a fanfare plays in the background.

            “Isn’t this a bit over the top?” whispers Cass into Rob’s ear.

            “Actually, all this razzmatazz is to help the audience open up and forget any preconceptions they might have. You’ll see.”

During the first ten minutes or so, as previously explained, Jason interacts with the audience as if he is talking to a friend in his living room. He clearly has the art of communicating to an audience in such a way everyone feels they are receiving a personal message from him. 

            “… We all live such busy lives,” he says. “So many obligations, so many pressures to prioritise, paying this before then, looking ahead, planning. In fact, when you think about it, we are all slaves of Time in one way or another. Which, in absolute terms, is really rather sad. Because scientists are now telling us Time is an illusion. I don’t know what you think about that, but being the slave of an illusion doesn’t seem to me to be a very good way of living out our lives.

            “Many of you here are probably aware of this. You may already be working to free yourself from this delusion. While others have only just discovered how they are dominated by years, months, weeks, days, hours, seconds… in a massive countdown to the moment when everything stops.

            “Except, of course, nothing ever stops. It never starts either. Everything just IS. And because of that, under the right conditions,

we are able to access different levels of awareness, different planes where others have gone before us…

Jason closes his eyes. Extends his right hand… Points into the air.

            “Harold is here. Harold has a message… Has only been on the other side for a few weeks. There was an accident. Harold wants to let his mother know… She is Margaret, or Margie… Everyone calls her Margie…”

A cry is heard from the middle of the hall. Sobbing… People around a woman in her mid-30s try to comfort her, but she is clearly very distraught.

            “Come forward Margie,” says Jason softly. “Help her come forward…”

People stand up and help the sobbing woman make her way along the row towards the aisle. Then one of the attendants gently takes her arm and guides her up onto the platform.

Moments later, Margie and Jason are sitting in comfortable armchairs facing each other in the middle of the stage. They are lit by a warm, golden glow. The audience goes totally quiet and it is as if the two of them are entirely on their own.

            “Are you sure this isn’t a setup job?” whispers Cass. Rob nods his head. “Quite sure,” he breathes and gives her a big hug.

In the course of the next few minutes, Jason’s soothing voice turns Margie’s distress into acceptance of what has happened. He is able to demonstrate, beyond any shadow of a doubt, he is in contact with her son. Only her son would know she has a cat called Titbits, only her son could remind her she celebrated his 10th birthday with a surprise visit to Disneyland. And only her son could reassure her he was at peace and always there to give her love and assurance as long as she would live, after which they would be together again.

When Margie steps down from the stage and makes her way back to her seat, everyone can see she has totally changed. There are no more tears, no more despair. She holds her head high, the faintest smile on her face, radiating calm confidence.

Cass is impressed.

            “Does look like it’s for real,” she whispers into Rob’s ear.

            “Sure it does. I told you it would be.”

The next two cases are just as convincing. A name. An object. Something connects with someone in the audience, followed by irrefutable proof Jason is interacting with someone, or something. Information backed by details no one else could ever know and then a message, or guidance, reassurance and comfort. It is quite clear these are life-changing events for those concerned, while those witnessing these transformations also feel involved and privileged to be part of what is happening.

By now, Cass is totally convinced this is the real thing. Despite everything being played out on a stage in front of hundreds of people, there seems to be absolutely no hint of voyeurism, no exploitation of another’s misfortune. The energy is palpable.

Jason is standing on the front of the stage, eyes closed.

            “There are Soul Mates in the room,” he announces. It seems they are together already but are still unaware of who they are to each other.

            “In fact, their resonance is so powerful, it could tear them asunder.”

Cass feels Rob’s hand tightening around her own. She looks at him. He is staring at the man in the centre of the stage, a glazed look in his eyes.

            “I can tell you where they are,” announces Jason. “I can feel the energy…” He stretches out his hands, his fingers moving for a few moments almost as if playing a piano. “We are in the key of C. But there is a fear of dissonance. These are people who have spent many lives together. Weaving in and out of several roles, different roles. It can be confusing…”

Cass feels a gateway opening in her mind. She cannot stop herself, she would not want to stop herself…

            “We’re here,” she cries out. “Here! Here!”

Rob turns towards her, his eyes melting as he pulls her to him, nuzzling her hair, his trembling arms pulling her closer, closer…

On the stage, Jason points towards them and a moment later they are bathed in a pool of brilliance as a spotlight picks them out.

The crowds part, standing back for Rob and Cass to make their way towards the stage and up, next to Jason, who embraces both of them. The atmosphere is electric, throbbing with energy even more powerful than it had been before.

            Jason smiles at them. “Now which one of you is the key of C?” he asks.

Cass points to herself.

            “I see, and so far you’ve had trouble singing from the same hymn sheet, right?”

            “It’s one way of describing it,” says Rob. “You see…”

Jason raises his hand. “Don’t tell me. But I can see an old soul, two old souls in fact. And something very creative, music? Composing? Painting! I can see painting…”

            “I’m an artist,” confirms Rob, “And I cannot see…”

            “You cannot see the Masterships,” cuts in Jason. “Like a lot of creative people.”

            “What?” says Cass.

            “Oh yes,” replies Jason. “It’s becoming quite the norm. Any other creative people out there who can’t see them?”

The house lights are brought up to half, bright enough to reveal at least twenty people in the audience with their hands in the air.

            “Oh my God!” murmurs Cass, then looks back to Rob.

Jason puts his microphone behind his back and leans towards Rob and Cass so no one else can hear him.

            “I can see the problem. We’ve already come up against it two or three times. You are what we call ‘Serial Soul Mates’, coming together in many lifetimes and playing a variety of roles. As a result, gender can sometimes get a bit mixed up as those roles change. Your case is a little different though.

            “Some creative people may be ambivalent when it comes to sexuality, but certainly not you. In fact, it has always been the rock  your relationships have been built upon. While on the other hand, there are lots of gay people who can see the Masterships. Only most of them keep quiet about it, in case they don’t seem to be gay enough! Whereas in fact, this only concerns degrees of imagination and creativity. Absolutely nothing else.”  

            “I get it,” says Cass, giving Rob a kiss on the cheek.

            “Thank you Cass, thank you Rob for helping us highlight this important issue…” Jason is using the microphone again and addressing the entire assembly. “Which   I’m sure, is going to be significant to a   great many of you out there. This is what it’s all about. Discovery. Discovering who we really are and what we need to do   here at this time, on this planet.”

What did you think about this item? Let us know your thoughts in the comment section! To read previously published items on the blog, you can find them listed here.

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