Exercise 5: Sight
Probably the first thing we do in the morning when we wake is to open our eyes. And what do we see? Through blurred and tired eyes, our senses still a little numb from sleep, we perhaps see very little. But as we become more awake, we become more aware.
Are the curtains drawn?
Is the room dark or light?
Is the sun shining or is it a gray day?
What do you see?
What do you feel?
How do you feel?
What do you sense?
What are the sights that lift you and make you feel good? What are the sights that distress or confuse you, that make you feel sad or muddled? And how often have you caught sight of your reflection in a mirror and been surprised, pleased, or horrified at what you see?
I can remember once, quite a long time ago, as I had finished cleaning my teeth one morning, lifting my head, being startled by the reflection I saw in the mirror. Not mine but that of my sister, who I look nothing like, or so I had thought. But perhaps I was wrong, and there were more similarities than I had realized. How did it make me feel? Surprised. Thought provoked. Curious about myself and my perceptions.
And when you look?
When you see?
How does that make you feel?
And what do you feel?
And how aware of your feelings are you?
Wherever we go there are things to see. Ordinary and everyday things that we often take for granted. And then there are the more extraordinary sights. Sights that we don't ordinarily see.
Beautiful scenery when we go on holiday. Unusual foods in exotic countries. Trees and plants in a botanical garden. Luxury homes and expensive clothes. We might ask, where are we going to see these things?
Some of us may be fortunate enough to have those exotic foods, beautiful scenery, or luxury in view most of the time. But all of us can experience these sights either on the TV or in magazines. We can read, we can look at pictures, but how aware are we that we are using our sense of sight.
We have all taken sight for granted, that is those of us who have good sight, and it is only as we get older, and our sight begins to fade a little, that we become more thoughtful and caring of what we see, and how we view things. In this exercise, as with the others in this chapter, we are going to try to see if we can lift our senses and our sensitivity, our awareness of our gift of sight, to a higher level of understanding.
Our five senses, our common senses are given to us as a gift from God. However there are those of us who were born without sight, without hearing, or touch, smell and taste. There are also those of us who through illness or accident, have had one or more of our common senses taken away. When this happens, I believe that God compensates, gives us something extra, something more. He gives us His guidance and His inspiration. Just because the blind man has lost his sight, does not mean he cannot see. In fact, many years ago, a client of mine, born blind, would have long conversations with me about all that she could see. Her physical eyes might be blank, but her mind's eye was extraordinarily active. She could see colors and people, hills and valleys. Sometimes she would describe a scene. A small, fast running stream, a house, sitting high on a hill, surrounded by trees. At other times she would describe how people looked. Tall, short, craggy, or smooth featured. The way she saw was different from the way most of us see, but there was no doubt from anyone who knew her, that she was not blind. God compensates by giving us a more acute awareness of our other senses, by giving us a wild and unfettered imagination, definitely in aiding us to become more sensitive and creative.
A person who is deaf discovers a way of hearing which is often beyond the comprehension of those of us whose hearing is sound. Yet I am asking you to try to comprehend, for if you can, if you can catch just a glimpse of comprehension, then as you explore your senses you will gain so much more from your exercises.
Those of us who do not have all our five common senses can still do the exercises in this book, can understand, comprehend, just as much, if not more, than those of us who have our five senses intact. In fact those lacking one or more of the five senses might do better than those of us who have them all. They have the advantage. Their sensitivity is already heightened. Can the blind really lead the sighted who cannot see what the blind can see? Yes, I believe they can. So once again, what must we do? How can we learn? The answer is simple.
Each day ask your questions and then question your thoughts and feelings. Become aware of yourself, and of all that you see around you. Try some of the questions below, and don't be afraid to ask your own questions too. Questions like:
How many sights are there?
How acute can you allow your sense of sight to become?
How many feelings are triggered when you use your sense of sight?
How aware of yourself does your awareness of these sights make you?
How many memories are there, and where do they come from?
How often are you aware of your sense of sight?
How often do you sense sight?
How often do you see cruel sights?
How often do you catch sight of yourself?
And then other questions could be:
How aware of your own sight are you?
How clear is your sight?
How much can you really see?
What do you look like, and what do you see when you see yourself?
Here are a few more sights for you to use, to add to those you have already used:
Rainbow colors. A star lit sky. Rolling hills. Flowers growing. A full moon. A waterfall. Blue sky. Green grass. Paintings. Swans. Feathers. Washing blowing in the wind.
All of these sights are good sights.
Try writing down your thoughts and feelings, and be surprised at how acute your sense of sight has become.
Ask yourself, what do I see when I close my eyes? And one sight I feel you should really learn to become aware of, an all important sight: THE SIGHT OF INSTINCT.
We have all had it, all known it. That little nudge, a feeling, a thought that seems to come from nowhere. A glimpse of something not quite tangible, a shadow that passes across our mind and an instant later is gone. A sight of instinct.
There are thousands of stories to tell, to illustrate what is meant by the sight of instinct, but the one I tell here is one that was told to me this very morning by Jim, before he left for the office.
"I was in the car, and must have been daydreaming. The next I knew, I had a flash, something, I'm not really sure what, but it made me come too with a start, and at the same time I yanked the steering wheel to the right. Good thing I did, or I would have had a collision. I took a deep breath, a sigh of relief, then I was startled again, for I saw my mother's face, and she was smiling at me."
Jim's mother had passed to the spirit world several years before this incident, as I'm sure most of you had gathered.
We all have our angels. Jim would say his mother was his angel that day. I believe she was, and I believe she will be there with him in the future also, just as we will all have someone. But how good it would be if we could see our loved ones, catch that brief glimpse, see their face before we went to sleep. Many of us do, of course, but are unable to see it as anything other than in our imagination.
What was different for Jim that day? What was it that enabled him to see his mother so clearly at that moment? Some would say that his mother was the one determined that he should see her, that she in some way became powerful enough to force her image upon him. And to some small degree they would be right. But seeing, or not seeing, hearing or not hearing, is more to do with how we are than how much energy the spirit world can muster.
We call out, "Why don't you show yourselves." They call back to us, "Why don't you look in the right way, for we are here, and waiting."
Another story, it was about seven thirty. The table was set and our guests were arriving for an informal dinner. There were eight of us in all, all friends, although Bill, Anabel's husband, had never been to the house before, and this was the first time I had spent any real social time with him.
The food was good, the conversation even better, as we went from subject to subject in a very lighthearted and fun way. Desert was coconut cream pie, or ice cream or both, and it was Jim who brought the conversation around to my work, when he insisted that everyone should have their chocolate ice cream in a dish, so that I could 'read' them later. I had done this very thing with Jim a few nights earlier, showing him how I was able to see certain things, and he had been so intrigued, though a little scared as to what his ice cream dish might reveal, that he wanted to share the experience with our friends.
Inwardly I groaned a little, for the last thing I wanted to do is create the wrong image about my gift, however, my friend Nancy, who was sitting to my right, and totally involved and interested in my subject, was immediately excited. "Oooh good," she said, nudging me with her elbow, "you can do me first. I'm dying to see what you can see." I laughed, and nodded my agreement, and took hold of her bowl, which she thrust at me, having eaten her ice cream in double quick time.
The bowls were white china, and the remains of ice cream were very visible to everyone. To an insensitive eye, the patterns left by the desert meant no more than a dirty dish to put in the dishwasher. However, to a more sensitive eye, certain pictures would be clearly seen. And to a trained eye, remembering that our vision is not just our physical sight, a more detailed story could emerge. Let me give you a few examples from that night. In my friend Nancy's bowl, I saw a boy, not surprising, as I know she has two sons. Next to the boy I saw an airplane, these things I saw with my physical eyes. What I saw, felt, intuited next, was that the boy was looking forward, possibly planning a trip overseas, in the near future. Nancy confirmed that just a few days before, one of her sons had shown a very strong interest in going on a trip with his school, in the spring, to Spain. Definitely a plane trip. This information I did not know.
In another bowl I saw a man's face, a small goatee beard, and I also saw roses. It turned out that this friend, three times a week, went to a spa with a good friend of hers, a man with a small goatee beard, whose hobby was gardening. His proudest efforts in this domain was his rose garden, his pride and joy. Again, I had known nothing of this until I had looked into her bowl. When I looked into another friend's bowl, I saw a pen, and something resembling paper with writing on it. Using more than my physical sight, using my sensitivity, I was able to see that this symbolized a contract, which was ready for signing. I looked at my friend, who, having seen me work before, laughingly admitted that he was about to sign a very important contract which would, to a great degree, change his working life. "Just tell me if I should sign or not?" he playfully asked.
Around the table we went. It was fun for everyone, and fun for me, and it reminded me of how much there is that is pure energy, which we can use if we want to. The ice cream smears on the dishes were like the finger prints of our world. Some small part of our mind, our thoughts and future, imprinted, printed out for us to see.
Then Anabel spoke up. "You didn't do Bill," she said, somewhat mischievously, knowing that her husband did not believe in my gift, or the ability of anyone to see further than that which is in front of our faces. The idea of someone able to communicate with the spirit world, the possibilities of someone able to use psychic vision, or psychic anything, these ideas were alien to him, and totally unacceptable. Anabel, undeterred, handed me Bill's dish, and he, shrugging and smiling, just let it happen. After all, it was just a game. A party trick.
I cannot remember too much of what I saw in Bill's dish, a bird, a ... but then I was not looking into the bowl anymore. On either side of him I saw a man and a woman. Visitors from the spirit world who, as I described them, Bill did not recognize. Then I saw a house, set up on a hill, with splendid grounds, an estate. The house itself was more like a mansion, nothing I knew that Bill would own, and I felt that what I was seeing was more directly connected to Bill's work than to him on a more personal level, and I told him so. Describing the house in the most intricate detail, as my two visitors from the spirit world described it to me, I began with the outside and worked my way in. The interior was quite fascinating, unusual ceilings, with heavy moldings, a curved staircase, an unusual room with lots of glass and water, maybe some kind of spring or spa. Back outside, I again described what I was seeing, then my concentration went once more to the ceilings, which seemed to me to be somewhat of a problem area, and would cost more to renovate than would at first be thought.
Recounting all I was seeing and being told, as I was seeing and hearing it, I then heard Grey Eagle's voice, "there has been talk of Bill being offered a contract. It isn't final yet, and he is still awaiting the decision of the man who owns the house. Tell him it's his if he wants it, but tell him to make sure he quotes the right price, for if he goes too low he could lose money on the deal."
When I was done, in a calm and quiet way, Bill Hahn told us all about the house. Just as I had described, in the most exact detail, he had understood it all, and was indeed waiting to see if the contract was his. Bill and his partner own a painting and decorating company.
It was quite a bit later that our guests left, and although we had all had a good time, I did wonder why I had begun the ice cream bowl readings, for it was very unusual for me to do such a thing. I came to the conclusion that there must be a good reason for it, and I smiled to myself a few days later, when, talking to Anabel, she told me how intrigued Bill had really been by what had happened.
"When you spoke to him that evening," she said, "Bill was in a state of shock, and was unable to really react. But as the shock wore off, he began thinking what it all meant. There was no way," she went on to say, "that you could possibly have known about that house and the contract. And Bill knows that. That's what has disturbed him the most. He's now having to rethink his beliefs. The whole experience has opened his eyes to possibilities he had never believed could exist."
"Maybe he has been a little enlightened," I replied, and smiled, as I thought to myself that that was no bad thing.
'Reading' ice cream bowls seems to be as much a far fetched and, some might think ridiculous, idea as the concept of the gypsy "reading" the tea leaves. Yet I believe there are many who have the knowledge, capability and "sight", or if you prefer, insight, to do just that. But how is it possible, from a common sense and down to earth point of view to even remotely conceive or begin to explain this kind of phenomenon. Easy. Very easy, in fact, as long as you understand the concept that all living things are energy. We are powerhouses, containers of the purest and most powerful energy. When we walk, we create energy flow. As we speak, we do the same. Every movement, even the blink of an eyelid creates energy flow. Even as the wind blows, even as it flows through trees and earth and sky, affecting everything it touches, even as it blows through our hair, or lifts high off the ground any litter we have left behind, even as it flows softly over our faces, and cools or stings us, this is how our energy is. Always with us, seen or unseen, felt or not felt, yet it is still there, affecting everything it touches. We cannot escape it, nor would we be, nor would we exist, without it. Our energy imprints on everything we do, say or think. As we eat, as we eat our ice cream, or as we drink our tea, our energy is flowing out of us, touching everything near to us, leaving its mark. When we have eaten our ice cream, or drank our tea, and we gaze into our bowl or cup, at the residue left behind, all we are doing, feeling, sensing, or seeing is our expended energy which is reflecting back on us. An imprint of our conscious, our subconscious, an imprint of our mind, our power.