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Susan Fairley, April 2015

Quite energetically "sparky" out there this year isn't it? So, what's new – maybe not new - actually a bit more than that, eh? 

The old chestnuts seem to be coming back and:

·       night sweats

·       palpitations

·       lethargy

·       body pains

·       anger

·       depression 

are all fairly high on the list.

We are none of us immune are we? It is at times like this that I am reminded of the late Vicky Wall's advice (creator of Aura-Soma), “keep trimming your wicks!" - which seems to say it all.

In no particular order, here are a few suggestions to dowse over and clear:

Click here to read the full article

 


Michael Hill - Victor Hugo’s Conversations with Galileo Galilei

MICHAEL J HILL, SRT Teacher & Consultant
7 December 2012

I thought you would be interested as I was to read an extract from Victor Hugo’s Conversations with Galileo Galilei.

Victor Hugo spent twenty years in the Channel Isles having been exiled by Napoleon III. Hugo, a nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte, author of “Les Miserables” and “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”, was convinced of the facts of survival after bodily death.  For many years he talked to discarnates through table tapping. Given below is an extract from his “Conversations with Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) transmitted on December 10th 1854 by Tapping Tables, with kind acknowledgement to John Chambers. Anybody requiring additional information please contact me at mailto:hillspiritaware@gmail.com.

“ The presence at the tables introduced itself without prompting as “Galileo” declared, “I’ve come to respond to Victor Hugo’s objection about the scientific inexactitude of the cosmology of the tables. Let him formulate that objection.

Hugo lost no time in formulating that objection: “Obviously, what we humans call constellations are fictitious groupings, put together from stars that appear to be the same size.” Hugo went on to explain that our construction of the constellations was purely arbitrary, really just an optical illusion. But what he wanted to know, were the constellations real? Their names were likely from a celestial language, not a human one. What then were the names of the actual constellations?

Galileo’s answer began as follows:

“My answer is in two parts, firstly: If the tables had to speak celestial language, not human language, you wouldn’t understand a word. In celestial language, man is not called man, nor beast beast, nor plant plant, nor pebble pebble, nor earth earth, nor air air, nor water water. nor fire fire. Heaven is not called heaven, a star is not called star, constellation is not called constellation and God is not called God. Where there is no body, there are no words.  Words are fashioned from physical reality: ideas are constructed from these words. But infinity is anonymous. Eternity doesn’t have a birth certificate.

“Time and space are frightened unknowns careening through infinity. Space cannot throw a glance and time does not have feet: the first is a shadow that falls across a gulf, the second is a gulf that falls across a shadow. Time and space: two masks: two appearances, two visions, two dreams, two impossibilities, two eyes wide open with horror, two paws bloodied by the punishment they have given, Two formidable jaws rising out of the unfathomable depths.

“But time and space do not have a face. Or, it is a face that does not speak, a face that does not hear, a face that does not formulate. God speaking is God language, God’s language is God’s mouth, God’s mouth is God’s body, God’s body is God man, God man is God beast, God beast is God plant, God plant is God pebble. Can you imagine it? God pebble. He who is not even God star!

No, there is no celestial language. There is no alphabet of the uncreated, there is no grammar of heaven. You don’t learn Divine like you learn Hebrew. Celestial is not a dialect of terrestrial. Infinity is not an unknown type of Chinese. Angels are not Professors of Divine Language, substitute lecturers in the faculty of Infinity.......

“No: everything is nameless, everything is sunlight and unknowing, everything is sunbeam and mask, everything is sun and roving. Infinity is a family of wanderers, space has no passport and heaven has no specifics. Eternity has no genealogy, creation has no Christian name, God is neither fire nor place. All that is created is unnamed, the speech of celestial language is bedazzlement, to express oneself is to be resplendent, clarity of speech is luminosity. The sublime consists of being instantly overwhelmed: to speak the celestial language is to blaze forth in flames: the speaking-forth of heaven is the lighting up of the sky with stars: the shutting up of heaven is the closing of the lips of darkness; and each letter of this stupendous vocabulary is a conflagration through which blows the breath of night’s dark mouth. The dictionary of infinity is filled with the punctuation of stars, and what would you say puny man, if, to speak to you in the language that you want, this little table, instead of words, syllables and sentences suddenly hurled millions of stars in your ear, launched Jupiter, Aldebaran and Saturn in your face, and spread out on your page the immense ink blot of the starry night while scribbling down corrections with furious comets?”

Galileo was finished for the time being. He promised to return on Sunday.

(More to follow in my next article. MJH)


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