Our Essence Across Time and Space – Part I

This is a peek inside one of my personal, channeled sessions, just as it unfolded for me. I’m giving you a moment-by-moment account of what I’m seeing and experiencing, so that you can get a sense of how I go into this state, how it unfolds and how I make sense of it.

I’m sharing this session with you in two instalments which can be read separately or together. The first, this post, is the actual session, word for word. The second instalment recounts how I unpacked the meaning of the session for myself. I think you’ll find it an illuminating example of how I go about the process of deciphering an experience such as this, whether it’s a channeled session, a dream or a daydream.

You may prefer the audio version which you can listen to it here, at just under 17 minutes.

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As I review this session, I can see that there were three, connected sequences:

• the first took place on two adjacent beaches, although they may have been in different lifetimes;
• the second was on a big-city plaza and;
• the third was on a space station

When Jennifer Anne, who has been my guide/facilitator, leads me into a session, I often begin on a shallow slip of beach conjured from my imagination. Then I either go down a flight of stairs or step into a blue beam of light. The beam is my preferred form of conveyance into another realm, where I can perceive differently than in my normal, waking state. I often have one or more guides with me who feed me information as I need it. I’ve noticed that I’m usually more aware of the information they share than I am of them as individual beings.

First Beach Sequence

I’m going somewhere in the laser beam of light – still on the beach. I step out of the beam so it closes up behind me. The sand is warm under my bare feet. I’m wearing a black bathing suit and I’m walking along the beach. The beach is changing into a big, broad expanse of packed wet, sand. There’s a man standing up ahead and he’s got bare feet and his pants rolled up. He has a dog who’s sitting on the wet sand beside him. The man is smoking a pipe. I’m thinking to myself, ‘You!’ He seems to be in about his late 40s. I haven’t met them before. They’re not paying attention to me. I’m not ‘there’ for them. I’m from ‘now’. The man is tall and bigger than me. They’re both looking out to sea. They seem peaceful. I feel peaceful – thoughtful. I think about saying hello to them but my guide says, ‘nope, don’t do that’. I notice I can walk through him.

 

Second Beach Sequence

I feel I should keep walking. Sometimes my guides show me things and they don’t make sense until they’ve shown me enough things for me to be able to see the relevance. The dog’s coming with me. The man is calling for him to come back but he’s not coming back; he’s following me.

 

I’ve got some sort of long, silk, kaftan-type garment over me which is blowing around in the wind. It’s black, white and gray, with swirls all through it, like smoke. It feels nice. The man is following me now but only because he’s following his dog. I’ve come to a headland. There’s a bay around this physical and perhaps energetic ‘corner’. The bay is really small – a cove? It extends quite a ways but it’s skinny. They’re saying to me, ‘a ship went down here off the coast, at the mouth of the bay’. I sense that I am a man who came off the ship onto the land; I dragged myself up the beach, coughing and spluttering, passed out and injured. I was taken in by the man from the beach’s mother.

 

It’s clear that what I’m witnessing is not in this lifetime. What I’m seeing is a temporal overlay. The woman was a widow. I’m seeing the man as a boy of about four or five years old. I think I was the man washed up on the beach. The man remembers me. In the reality in which I stand to witness this previous time, the boy, that was, is in his 40s. He’s alone with his dog – an Irish setter who is very gentle and intelligent; not goofy.

 

My guides don’t want me to go further than this bay. I’m standing there looking at myself lying partially in the water. The me on the beach is as real as the me that standing in the swimsuit. This guy; I know him now or I will know him.

 

After I was shipwrecked, I was a gift in the boy’s life. My arrival made his life interesting. It made his mother come alive again. It’s not the mother they’re drawing my attention to – it’s the boy/man and the dog. (I have a tickle in my throat chakra and my eyes are watering) I have a feeling of knowing and complete acceptance, that it goes beyond this realm. This kid is experiencing a feeling of delight; ‘Look Mummy, there’s a man on the beach!’ The mother comes running out of the house with her hair blowing behind her and there I am, lying on the beach. They turn me over and bang me on the back and all this water comes out of me. I look up into their faces and it’s like a ready-made family.

 

There’s no sense of who else was on the ship or that the ship went down and spat me up on the beach. I’m in the clothes I stand up in; these canvas pants that are butterscotch-coloured, rolled up halfway to my knees, and a shirt and that’s it. My hair is messy and chin length and a dark sandy color. I have a big beard and an anchor tattoo on the outside of my forearm, right side, and then there’s this little boy. He’s standing there with his feet planted apart, he’s got short pants on, and he’s the man of the household. He appropriates me. It’s as if, ‘Okay, we found him on the beach; he’s ours now! Bring him in the house and feed him.’ And that’s it. I never leave again. It’s my new home.

 

The dog isn’t in that picture. The dog is the emotional and energetic connection for this man, who is a different incarnation of the boy. He’s dressed and looks a little bit like I did when I was tossed up on the beach. He’s got a beard and his hair is the same colour and it’s blowing around in the wind, longish. There’s something about this connection… And finding people – you find them and you know them and you take them in and that’s that!

 

The Transition…

Now we can go back to the blue beam of light again. It’s not white this time. The dog can see the blue beam and wants to come into it with me. It can see all these dimensions. I’m drawing a line in the sand with my toe and I’m pushing his nose back behind the line. He’s not coming in the beam with me. He has to stay with the man. He doesn’t like it and he doesn’t like the sand up his nose! The man thinks he’s a goofball. He’s saying to him, ‘What are we doing, standing on the beach, while you sniff at this bit of sand?’ He knows there’s something there. He can’t see it but he knows the dog can.

 

The City…

We are coming down in the forest and I say, ‘nope’, so now we’re lifting off again. Now we’re coming down in a city, in front of a library and an art gallery, all in one building. Well, when you think about it, why wouldn’t you put a library and an art gallery all in together? Both public spaces. It looks like Nathan Phillips square outside City Hall in Toronto – it’s a public plaza. I’m stepping out of the beam. This time I’ve got business clothes on and shoes. They’re brightly coloured ankle boots; differently coloured, in a pattern. It’s not something I have but I’d wear it. I’m in my 30s in this scene. It feels like me but slimmer. I can see my feet. My hands look like they do now.

 

I’m going into the building. There’s sculpture in there and paintings and books and people – faceless, nameless people. I’m standing in the lobby of the space where people arrive. I’m going all the way up, to the top of the building, in this elevator that’s a round, clear tube. It travels up the middle of the building so I can see everything all around. I’m getting out on the eighth floor – top floor. (I’m telling myself to let it go and just be. It’s not about a ‘he’. I keep going back in my thoughts to the guy on the beach.)

 

Up here it’s peaceful. There’s a lounge area; lots of space, e.g.: modern furniture, modern industrial carpet – tile floor, big windows, lots of light, walls that are colour blocks. Someone is giving me coffee (conversation! coffee!?) There are two cups but no one else there. I see a big, heaping pile of oranges – the colour is brilliant – on the table with the coffee. There are meeting rooms around us, like there is on the top floor of the public library in downtown Vancouver. They’re behind walls. Otherwise this is not like that space. It feels like a gallery – but not a traditional one – but there’s public art around.

 

A guy comes wandering out. He’s wearing corduroy pants. He looks a lot like the guy on the beach but he’s older. He’s got a beard with white in it. His hands are in his pockets. There’s no dog. Looks like the same guy. This is his space. It’s his comfort zone. It feels like he owns it but you can’t own a public space or library. He walks around like he owns it.

 

He’s standing there – in his own space with his hands in his pockets. Now he can see me. He’s got one eyebrow up. It’s as if he’s thinking, ‘oh yeah, who are you?’ How do I explain the beach? Now I know who he is. I say, ‘hello, let’s have coffee’, waving over at the coffee cups. I sense that the suit I’m wearing is straight; dark-gray, wool, summer suit fabric, a straight skirt that comes down past my knees with a split in the back. The jacket has three-quarter length sleeves and it has big, buttons down the front and a collar, buttoned up to the neck. It’s a short jacket, slightly a line so it’s a little bit loose – but it’s very ‘buttoned – up’. But then I’ve got these wild shoes on! Wild but not wild. No purse. No jewellery. Dark-gray suit and wild shoes. The shoes are the work of art – top-stitching and swirls, all different colours – they’re patchwork but not patches – like appliqué. With yellow shoelaces. He says to me, ‘Those are some shoes!’ His shoes are boring. He’s wearing brown shoes. The same style as mine but they’re not ‘fun’. He’s wearing a sweater and a blue shirt…

 

We’re done now. (said abruptly) The beam is with me again. It’s still blue.

 

The Space Station

I’m getting sucked right out – off the planet. I’m getting coughed up at the other end – floating around but in space. It’s very quiet. I’m bumping into the side of the spaceship. This door opens up and I’m inside. It’s like this giant garage door.

 

He’s there now. It looks like the same man but he’s older. He’s got gray hair – all gray and a whitish beard. He’s got some kind of command position on what seems to be a space station. I’m a visitor. Now he knows about the boy and the two men. He’s looking at me in a knowing way. He appreciates me for something – ‘being me’. I’m exploring. He likes that. The essence of that dog is with him but it’s not a dog now; it’s a granddaughter. She may be about seven or eight. She’s got all the energy of the dog but she’s a person now. She’s still, quiet, observing – just like the dog when it was sitting on the beach – gentle – sniffing but not actually, but curious. He’s got his hand on her head. She’s his; he’s hers. They belong together.

 

I belong. There’s not any question. It’s a meeting up again. She knows she’s met me and I belong. She’s met my energy before. But that’s how it is! That’s how we know people, here. There’s all these different facets coming together from different times and places and roles and dimensions. When we meet somebody, it’s all there, in all the nuances. Sometimes we know it and sometimes we know that we don’t know it – we do but we don’t. Sometimes it’s just a feeling. You don’t see the person. Sometimes, like the boy, he knew me and took me in immediately – like there’s a sense of possession. ‘Playmate material!’ Sometimes it’s, ‘Okay, we are going to rub along and do this.’ Sometimes, it’s like curiosity – like with the dog. Sometimes it’s just a recognition – like the man’s raised eyebrow. Sometimes it’s a sense that we’ve both arrived and we are fully here. It’s all these things every time we meet someone. There’s a watching and reaction, and a chemistry, and a recognition, and an emotion – a joy – and an ‘Oh, there you are!’

 

He’s giving me a hug now – a long hug. It’s timeless. It makes everything else go away. She’s hugging me too. The dog is there in spirit, even though it’s not there. It’s like asking yourself whether you like people. You don’t like people in general; you like a person. A dog is an entity, a spirit, just like a person is. If I met this dog, I’d know it again.

In Summary

In Part II, I will follow up the transcript of the session with my interpretation, including the process I used to break down the meaning. Sometimes these sessions are similar to dreams, in that I get more out of them when I unfold or unpack them for deeper understanding. Between now and when you read Part II, I encourage you to see what meaning you glean from what you have just read. If you like, come back and listen to, or read it, again. Let it flow over you and see how you react. What occurs to you?

Excerpt from Lucca Hallex’s channeling on Jan 22, 2020 – Session 6 – Part 1

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This post is part of an ongoing series of Intergalactic Messages. In Oct 2019, I began an experiment with going into a light hypnotic state and seeing what I could find out from my Intergalactic team. Over the course of about 18 months, I repeated this process, with Jennifer Ellis as my guide. I will continue to share excerpts from these valuable and thought-provoking recordings.

Photo Credits: Photo by Frank Mckenna on Unsplash, Photo by Max Zhang on Unsplash, Photo by Yurii Kosyakevich on Unsplash, Photo by Sq Lim on Unsplash