A well known football player discovers there is more to his neck injury than he could ever have imagined

Johno is a big man. When he enters my shop it’s like a shadow has passed over the sun, he blocks out that much light. My petite assistant Bryony gets the giggles. He is just unbelievably large, solid and muscular. Bryony looks like a little doll next to him, but their unique individuality somehow makes them a matching pair.

“I’ve come to see a bloke about a healing. I spoke to someone on the phone. It’s about my neck.”

“Ah yes your girlfriend referred you, she’s a regular here.” Bryony composes herself showing him upstairs.

In a recent session with his girlfriend I had noticed that there was more to his stiff neck than was apparent. I follow him into my session room. It feels a bit cramped, the big man taking up most of the space. I squeeze in next to him, lying with my feet pressed up against the door.

Johno explains to me that he has an ongoing story with his neck. He is a regional football player who stands an excellent chance of being selected to play for his country. But, the lack of mobility in his neck is proving a handicap. He has tried everything to fix it, physio, massage, heat treatment, even electronic devices. None of them have worked permanently, at best some have brought only temporary relief.

“Okay Johno this is all pretty straightforward all you have to do is lie here, close your eyes and try not to think”.

“That won’t be too hard for me” Johno grins sheepishly. 

I can’t figure out whether he is really smart and self deprecating or not very smart at all.

Lying in my crystal mandala we move into no time-space and I wait for Johno’s higher-self to take us where we need to go. As we begin our journey through time and space I notice an irregularity with his Light-body, his energy field is not quite as it should be. I sense this does not relate to his neck and I hope we will have time to deal with it later. Right now it is appropriate that I just allow what needs to unfold to happen.

We find ourselves in an old cobbled square, it’s been raining and rather than smelling fresh and clean this place smells rank. There are piles of putrefying rubbish around. This is not a place that is looked after or cared for by anyone. There is a feeling of despair here. There’s a small crowd of rough looking, pungent misfits waiting for something to happen. 

We see a wooden cart approach with a half starved, filthy man chained to it. I try not to lead Johno in his understanding of what is happening and how this relates to him.

Do you recognise anyone here? I telepath Johno.

What? 

I can see he is having a little difficulty comprehending that we are in another time and place witnessing something relevant to him.

 Feel into the energy of the people here, does anyone feel familiar.

The bloke on the cart, that’s me!

You are right, go over and step into his body, tell me how he’s feeling.

Well he feels like a skinny little bloke, not very strong.

No. How is he feeling emotionally, tell me what he is feeling now.

Oh. Well he’s not frightened. He’s angry. And he’s really really sad.

The grubby petty officials waiting near the rickety wooden structure in the centre of the square unchain him and lead him up the rotting steps onto the platform, where his fate awaits him.

As they put the thick rough rope around his neck he scans the crowd and sees what he has been hoping both to see and not to see.

There at the back of the crowd are his wife and child, they look totally destitute and utterly despairing. His eyes meet theirs and he starts sobbing.

What is he feeling now? I ask.

Johno is sobbing. He feels like shit. He feels like he is abandoning his wife and child. All he did was steal one loaf of bread to feed them. And now he’s getting hung for it. 

I watch as with little ceremony or speeches they place the noose around his neck read out his name and offence and open the trapdoor beneath him. The sound of his neck cracking echoes across the square as his wife covers and their son’s eyes.

I catch him as he leaves his body and we move into no time-space.

My neck!

What are you holding there?

Despair, anger, a feeling of utter helplessness. He starts crying. I let them down! They will die without me. I left them. I did not mean to.

Can you see how this relates to your neck pain now?

Yes.

Would you like to release it?

Too bloody right.

I call on his wife and child from that time and suggest he begs their forgiveness, which is given freely and received emotionally. He sees the energy he was holding in his neck evaporate as he accepts their unconditional love. As he says goodbye to his loved ones, he moves his neck freely.

He has cheered up. Brilliant mate. Are we done?

Not quite, I think there is something else, if you don’t mind?

In for a penny…

Please say out loud after me. “Body I command you take me to the moment my Light-body was traumatised.”

Not really fully grasping its implications he repeats the affirmation and we find ourselves in the middle of a pitched battle in outer space. 

Johno has the hang of it now. Thats me, the bloke in that jet thing.

He has already stepped into the pilots body.

Cool. This bloke, me… I am, he is… highly skilled. I am flying this thing by thought! How does he do this?

He is happy to be here in service to the light on this mission. He is beyond fear. He has been trained for this and he is good at it.

Alarms are going off in my head. I need to evade…

Behind him I see an enormous black hole of a mothership. Utterly black, the lack of stars are what defines its presence. It is totally featureless, approaching fast and very, very big.

The opposing forces in the skirmish disappear. He and his companions are alone in space in their tiny craft. They form a holding pattern and wait for orders which they will never hear.

The mother ship belches a cloud of nothingness towards them. It destroys their craft and the brave beings inside them, in a way that is beyond comprehension.

The physicality of their beings is destroyed, disintegrated, but there is more going on. Their very essence, their souls, their Light-bodies are deliberately fragmented into billions of pieces and scattered throughout time and space. Very nasty.

I am so utterly fascinated by this unfolding drama I almost forget to call Johno out of his traumatised and rapidly dispersing Light-body.

Oooh. Not good.

It is okay Johno you got fixed, but lets look at how. Give yourself permission to remember.

We witness the endless separation of his being into minute particles, randomly scattered, absorbed by a vastness that is beyond comprehension. A long time passes, then we see other light beings of many types gathering his soul together, volunteers, carrying out soul retrieval on a grand scale.

We call on them and thank them. They are happy to see he has reincarnated on Earth and advise it will take time for his being to become completely whole again, but he is doing well.

We return to our present time and space and I debrief him.

He sits up and moves his head neck and shoulders freely.

“Mate, that was sensational! It’s fixed.”

“So you will be referring your team mates then?” I give him a cheeky smile.

“I doubt it. Too weird” He rolls his eyes in disbelief of his own recent experience.

I escort him downstairs, accept payment and advise him not to drive.

As he leaves Bryony comments quietly on totally spaced out look on his face.

He turns around at the door.

“Hey, I heard that. I’m no space cadet. I graduated!” He chuckles to himself as he leaves shaking his head.

All stories are © 2019 Raym Richards and are extracted from his book “Sprit World. A diary of an Urban Shaman” available through iBooks and Amazon or directly from Crystal Dreaming