I've talked about this before in here, but if you've forgotten, "Earth Memory" - without all the attached silliness about sacred doorways into different worlds - blah blah blah - is the theory that the ground retains a memory of what has occurred on it; a theory that began with the question "Why don't birds sing at Auschwitz?" and developed by a Physics Professor at Yale by the name of Paul Schwartz or something like that.
I definitely believe this. I can tell you so many stories, but instead I'll only recall one:
Visiting my friend Andrea's new house in Brisbane, acquired very cheap, and instantly feeling the hair rise on my arms. "I think you should off-load this immediately!" I told her. She accused me of being jealous of her bargain because it was a beautiful old house indeed, but ... well, most of the house just had a feeling of deep deep sadness however there were areas of "emanating evil" that I could even feel from the front door. I told her this but she said to stop being silly, however I was insistent! I walked through to where I could feel 'the pure evil' - the living room - however it felt so ghastly and full of fear I couldn't go inside, so I went to where I could feel the "lesser evils" - the toilet and bathroom - and all I could feel in the bathroom was suicides and drug deaths - several of them - and in the toilet both suicides and drug over-doses - lots and lots of them.
But in the hallway there was an almost overwhelming feeling of fear ... but then it got really weird and I started seeing flashes of a small boy - about 8 years old - scrambling down the hallway backwards - he'd tripped while running away - as a man walked towards him with a shotgun. "Please don't walk through this hallway." I said to Andrea. "It's the energy from here that's getting into people and causing all that suicidal depression."
I got away from it fast and told her that if she going to live there, she needed to do "a smoking" (an aboriginal ceremony) or "a stomping" (a NZ Maori ceremony) or something along those lines as soon as possible but she told me I was being very silly ... however, after I left - I couldn't stay there any longer - and it took me hours to get rid of the mood - she went visiting around the elderly folk in the neighbourhood mainly to prove me wrong ...
... except she discovered that, back in the 60s, a man had killed his family with a shotgun in the living room while they were watching TV, but his 8 year old son was killed outside his bedroom door, obviously while trying to get away. And if that wasn't enough, everyone who'd lived in the house since had died horrible deaths, usually by their own hand, until no one wished to live there anymore and the place had become a squat for homeless drug addicts, who did indeed frequently die in either the toilet or bathroom.
The upshot of this, however, was that Andrea was so freaked out that she blamed me and didn't talk to me again for months, and also that she off-loaded the house ASAP.
Another story? There was that time in Siem Reap, in Cambodia, where a temple deep in the jungle felt so downright evil that I couldn't even walk on the platform next to the temple. It was so bad, I wanted to leave, but Keith refused and kept on exploring, so I found a statue of an elephant which didn't emanate that awful fearful "broken" feeling, climbed underneath and went to sleep.
Me, trying to shut out the 'pure evil'
emanating from the temple platform,
in Cambodia!
Also, BTW, the tiredness was the result
of the TB bacilli I'd picked up in Vietnam,
and which my body successfully defeated,
probably right as Keith took this photo!
Also, BTW, the tiredness was the result
of the TB bacilli I'd picked up in Vietnam,
and which my body successfully defeated,
probably right as Keith took this photo!
And it turned out, as we found out later, that Pol Pot did his final massacre here, only a few years earlier, right on this temple platform, and the monks, overwhelmed by the amount of "space-clearing" required of them in the 18 months since Pol Pot's death, had yet to arrive to clear the energy.
So, yes, I do believe in Earth Memory. And so does my very sensible, scientifically-minded brother, despite it being against his value system, his world-view, his will and his inclination, however he's had experiences where ... well, it's saner to believe in Earth Memory than NOT.
I could tell you my brother's strange story about standing on the side of the road waiting for a friend to pick him up, but he'd get cross! Oh, why not! He's got cross before:
There he is, in Germany, right?, standing on the side of the road, at a bus stop, waiting for a friend to pick him up, but something's making him most uncomfortable and the hair keeps rising on the back of his neck and he has the most awful feeling of creeping evil, fear, doom and danger that's coming from behind him except there isn't anything behind him except empty fields. Anyway, he is so uncomfortable he starts to walk away, off down the road ... and around the corner his friend is waiting in his car. "Wondering how long it would take you to arrive." said the friend. "That's one of the old Nazi death camps in those fields right there. Everyone always talks about how evil it feels, so I just wanted to know if someone who didn't know it was once a Nazi death camp would also feel it was evil."
Yes, it did indeed feel evil!
But that's by the by because, well, here's something for the person I'm having this conversation with that takes it to another level, MAYBE:
My first visit to Macau, everywhere I went I kept seeing bits of broken bodies in boxes; broken statues, puppets, dolls, mannequins ...
... sorry, can't find any of the photos although I know I have heaps...
... but they were everywhere and it started to sincerely creep me out. "Why do you have bits of broken bodies in boxes?" I asked several people. "I don't know." "They're waiting to be fixed." "It just happened." was the usual reply.
Odd, huh! In fact, so odd - and being always unable to resist a mystery - I decided to find out what connection Macau had with bits of broken bodies in boxes.
It took a lot of reading but I eventually found something! Turns out that in the early days of Macau's European history, a cannon exploded up at the fort and a lot of people were killed ... and so very much in bits that rather than sort out who was who, they bundled all the body parts into a single box and stuck it into the ground.
So there's an unmarked grave someplace in Macau where a lot of people are all thrown in together and although this isn't part of this city-states' conscious mind - being long forgotten - there's something there that ... I don't know ... compels folk to put body bits in boxes ... like they're being reminded that something is deeply amiss in their collective unconscious.
So that's the point I want to make in this on-going conversation: the earth definitely retains a memory of what has happened on it and when something is amiss, we all pick up on it and ... well, it gets into us and we do things without realising why we're doing them. And, just guessing here, we keep on doing them until such time as the situation is put to rights.
Just saying!!!
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