Water energy, autistic society
Magnets in my hair. Radios in my teeth. Acid on my fingers. Laser beams up my nose. I have been accused of all of them, except the last — and if the skeptics had any imagination they would add it to the list.
He could drink from his bowl in the kitchen, or even from the waterfall beside our red Japanese bridge under the willow tree. But he is a connoisseur, and he has to go to the spring.
Dogs have highly tuned instincts. Though Barney doesn’t know that this spot has been a centre of healing for thousands of years — it was old beyond memory when the sacred powers of the site were set down in the Domesday Book — my smart pet does recognise a healthy drink when he gets one.
He must be able to feel the power of the water as it heals and energises him. Maybe that’s one of the reasons that he still behaves like a big puppy.
I believe that water must flow to be alive. Tap water, which lies inert in miles of pipes before it eventually reaches your glass, is spiritually dead. That is why I meditate for at least fifteen seconds before I take a sip.
I send positive vibrations and energy into the liquid, filling my glass with with thoughts of love and gratitude.
I’m always searching for new interactive events to try with my TV audiences, and when I fly out to Greece next week, to begin ten weeks of live prime-time shows, I will be working on a phenomenal water experim.
My first idea was to tell viewers to place a glass of water on their televisions, but when we do that with spoons it’s common for the cutlery to leap several feet into the air.
I don’t want that to happen with the water — at best I’m going to get a bill for thousands of TV set repairs, and at worst I’m going to electrocute some of my fans.
Every day when I’m walking beside the Thames, which has been flowing for millions of years, I tune into its energy and send out vibrations of love and affection to my friends.
Recently I’ve been taking photographs to accompany my mental messages, and zapping them straight into cyberspace onto my Twitter webpage.
I’ve noticed that I seem to get the biggest response from friends and fans on days when there is an autumn mist hanging over the river. Perhaps the moisture in the air helps to magnify the vibrations.
I believe that water has a wavelength, and I’m not talking about the breakers that surfers ride. It’s more like a radio wave. Maybe it’s possible to amplify thoughts and emotions with water, and even use it as a medium for broadcasting.
That’s not so ridiculous, when you think how much louder sounds seem underwater.
By focusing my energy on the waterfall in our garden, there is no doubt in my mind that I am able to prolong the life of the pump by up to two years. The maintenance team can’t understand how we can go so long without refits, especially as our pump is running day and night.
And because the water is always moving, the vital energy never fades away — that’s what keeps the motor running.
Maybe I should create an Uri Geller range of dishwashers and washing machines, that feature perpetual water motion. If my theory is right, my customers would make massive savings on repairs and replacements.
On second thoughts, forget the dishwasher. All the spoons would come out bent…
Christine Roscoe and Hayley Edwards from Berkshire Autistic Society dropped round to our home the other day after they wrote and asked if I could help them with fundraising. I was delighted to give them a beautiful set of my crystalware to be auctioned.
The society celebrates its 20th anniversary next year, and membership is soaring as more cases of autism appear — especially at the severe end of the spectrum.
Doctors talk about the “autistic spectrum”, with the most able and communicative children at the red end and the youngsters who are most severely disabled at the deep blue end.
I like that image, because I believe all children are Rainbow Kids, with dazzling gifts for love and mindpower, if we adults only know how to tune in to them.
It’s a myth that autistic children are always locked inside themselves. They are just as loving and affectionate as other children, though because they often cannot understand how other people feel, they have difficulty showing their emotions.
I’m not surprised that the autistic society in my area is just 20 years old — sadly, since 1990 there has been a dramatic rise in cases. I try to ignore all the arguments about whether this is caused by better diagnosis or vaccines: I certainly believe it’s vital that we use conventional medicine to the full, including getting children properly immunised, and that we back this up with complementary medicine.
Whatever the reason, the autism epidemic is a new phenomenon. A close friend of ours whose beautiful son, David, is autistic, told me that in all the huge novels by Dickens, Tolstoy, Trollope and the other prolific geniuses of the Victorian era, there isn’t one autistic child.
“That’s really weird,” he said. “Think how many children those writers had. Dickens alone had ten. And there are so many children, in books like Oliver Twist and the Barchester stories. But there is never an autistic child. Not even one. And these days, there seem to be one or two in every class.”
That’s a mystery. I’d love to hear from readers with autistic children or grandchildren, to know if you have any explanations.
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