Healing a Bee

Life Mysteries

The Value of Life

How much would you say your life is “worth”?

Would you ever be willing to delegate that evaluation to a third party?

Who has authority to place a price tag on life, whether human, animal, plant or insect?

Not a single spiritual teaching authorizes this. To the contrary. In the Bible, the moneylenders are thrown out of the temple.

Things can be traded, but not beings.

A being is not a thing. A tradeable thing is a commodity. The purpose of the jabs and so called mRNA technology is now clear: to turn all living things, including humans, into tradeable commodities. Once our intrinsic dollar value falls below the cost of maintenance, the stock needs to be liquidated.

That is it in a nutshell.

So please consider this question deeply: what is the relationship between sentience of any sort and perceived monetary value?

If we cannot confront this fundamental issue then how can we mount a moral defense against the use of CBDCs?

The Human Node

Everyday, we are being sprayed like bugs. Are we nothing more than bugs? The sprays have military grade components which infiltrate and over-write our nervous systems: brain, behavior, perception, bodily autonomy. Pesticides and insecticides are, of course, neurotoxins.

A shiny portal stands in front of us proclaiming entry into the New World Order. Over its lintel there hangs a phrase:

“Henceforth you shall cease to be human and you shall become a node.”

This phrase, of course, has a well-known ancestor: “Arbeit Macht Frei.”

Many are now convinced there is no way out.

Is this really 100% true? Maybe. Maybe not. But to give up is to give in. My philosophy is never say never, no matter what. We have to keep on trying.

A Return to the Light

Last week, around midday, my wife, who had partially rolled up one of the rugs, called out to me to come look at something on the floor. I had a number of challenging cases to tend to that day including two with aggressive cancer diagnoses plus I was way behind on an article I was supposed to finish by the weekend. I hesitated to respond.

“Come over here please and look at something.”

I stepped out into the lobby of our small apartment where my wife was pointing down at the floor. There, I could make out a small, brown shape. The shape was inert yet there was nonetheless a sense of something moving.

“I don’t think it is completely dead” said my wife. She looked nonplussed as she stared at the object on the floor.

I bent down and examined the small shape. It was a bee. Apparently it had made its way into a bag set outside with recycled paper materials, and in so doing, got itself crushed. Something stirred in my heart. It wasn’t sadness or compassion. It was urgency: “You need to save this bee’s life.” This command rose up in the silence of my mind.

With some difficulty, I scooped the bee up with a piece of white card and carried it over to the windowsill to examine it more closely in the natural light. The light in the lobby room was fairly dim. As I scrutinized the insect, I could make out no sign of fluid leakage which would indicate ruptured internal structures. However, the tiny wings were splayed and all six legs looked paralyzed. The left rear leg poked out at an odd angle and seemed longer than the others, as though ripped off partially from the bee’s body. The front right leg, by contrast, curled inward in a manner reminiscent of a human with cerebral palsy.

Something inside me told me to get to work to repair the damage suffered by this tiny creature. I needed to get to it immediately. For the next hour, I focused all my attention on this task.

Where to begin? Since I was not an expert in bee anatomy, I had to make quick decisions based on what I knew about human and animal anatomy and their corresponding energy fields. I knew from long clinical experience that all living beings are surrounded by complex, orderly, energy fields incorporating a torus and an internal vortex. Most likely, the hexagonal structure of the honeycomb plays a generative role in developing key interior components of a bee’s energy field.

Image credit: California honeybees

Below you can see a schematic rendition of sub-components of the dynamic flux informing biofields of sentient organisms:

VORTEX TYPES. Image credit: Peter Avenis

I decided to begin by streaming energy into the top of the bee’s head and directly into its antennae. Insect antennae are composed of chitin, which is dielectric (therefore conductive of electricity). Insects use their antennae to pick up a vast amount of information which guides them where to go, where to feed and what to steer clear of. So I focused a stream of scalar energy into the bee’s antennae and head. Before long I could see the head moving gently side to side, almost bobbing, whilst the two protruding antenna started quivering with signs of innervation.

I also noticed, as I bent down closer, the eyes of the bee. They definitely saw me. The bee was looking right up into my eyes as I worked to try to save her. Aware that she might be terrified of the giant human head close by her, and unable to move off in any way, I silently communicated to her that I was her friend, and only wished to help her recover. She should not be afraid. The bee looked up at me through huge dark eyes with an expression that appeared human.

I next set to work on the portion of the bee’s energy field that encircled the space between h uerpper and lower torso. Before long I could see the lower portion, which terminates in the stinger, change from a state of total paralysis to one of rhythmic pulsations. I was elated. By the point I was becoming a true believer: Yes, I was going to succeed in getting her airborne again!

I worked on each of the six legs, one at a time, making several rounds, then going back to the head, the antennae, the midriff.

Eventually, I could see that all parts of the bee’s body were once again capable of motion. Yet the bee did not budge at all from her fixed position on the windowsill. Was all this work then going to be in vain? I placed her gently on the outside ledge in the cool fresh air, and waited for a while. When I came back ten minutes later, she had frozen over again. Was the outside air too chill? Had she died? Had I failed to revive her? I quickly pulled all my resources together again and directed them into her body, observing the same routine as before. Soon she was twitching all limbs again, even rubbing her front two legs together, which gave me the impression she must be feeling much better.

Then something awful almost happened. I left the room briefly and returned moments later only to see that she had vanished. But beneath the window on the floor, one or my cats seemed very interested in something, and was about to pounce. There was the bee! It had dropped down to the floor and was about to have its precarious little life terminated by a feline predator. I quickly got hold of a glass jar and another piece of white card. I was able, in this way, to scoop the bee into the jar. I covered the opening with the card to prevent the bee from crawling out.

Once I had done that I then heard the most beautiful sound in the world: the buzzing of the bee inside the jar! It sounded like life itself. The ancient hum of ultra-rapid translucent wings! I recalled how the majority of the electromagnetic charge in our planet’s atmosphere is reinvigorated, not by lightning storms as was previously believed, but by the cumulative buzzing of countless insect wings. Together, these function as a giant turbine to electrically enliven the planetary atmosphere.

And here was one tiny member of that giant turbine inside my glass jar. She had returned from the dead as a result of the energies I had streamed through the various channels and orbitals of her body. What a magical sound it was. That was my first reward.

But there was another, even greater one. I carried the jar with the bee inside into the room facing southwest, which was flooded with bright sunlight. I opened the window and carefully tipped the bee on to the exterior window sill. Part of the sill was in shadow but the rest was bathed in sunlight, creating a chiaroscuro effect. I left the little creature in a nice warm patch of light. For a few moments she just lay there, as though stunned.

Then, all of a sudden, she took off. She flew, wings abuzz, into a huge shaft of diagonal light. She rose, swiftly and precipitously, up and into that shaft of light. She flew upward with such enthusiasm and vigor it was exhilarating to observe. It was as though the light had summoned her back into itself and into life. And she responded to that call without hesitation, in a glorious blur of translucent wings and golden movement.

Image credit: Bee Professor

Gratitude

For having the opportunity to heal my patients of their afflictions, I am always deeply grateful. It gives me the feeling there is something beautiful and pristine beyond this dark world in which we suffer so much. When I am healing others, I am connecting with that “something”. I am sustained by this phenomenon even when the future of man and the world looks increasingly desperate and hopeless.

Over the past several years ~ like many others ~ I have often found it difficult to face another day pre-loaded with chemtrails and news of unremitting death and destruction. To understand where humanity is headed and what is being prepared for us can feel overwhelming. So any opportunity to radiate positivity as opposed to negativity is the singular path I have chosen. I am deeply grateful for the special healing abilities granted to me even though I never asked for them. When I was fourteen years old, I heard a voice in my head commanding me to serve others. It returned to the center of my head, unwanted and unsolicited, day after day, before it eventually left. How I dreaded and hated that voice and what it wanted me to do with my life! I am by nature a rebel and a free spirit. The last thing I wanted was to be told to be a goody-two-shoes and go out and save the world. I even feared that voice. Only much later in life did I understand what spirit was then communicating to me. (I am obviously a slow learner!)

Looking back, I am immensely grateful in retrospect for the inner direction I received as a boy. This inner direction has kept me afloat in these dark times.

“Reading by candle light”. Petrus von Schendel, mid 19th century.

Conclusion

We are not the Creator. We did not create the land, the sky, the rain or the clouds. We did not create pigs, apple trees or fresh water fish. Life was created. As such, it cannot be reduced to a “store of value”. Life isn’t a commodity. Life is symbiotic, interconnected, interdependent. Life belongs not to the few but to the all.

Our “primitive” ancestors never thought like this. To them, even when they killed animals for food, respect had to be shown to the spirit of those animals. All life leads back in one direction only: the Creator.

Life is a function of vibrations. Our vibration is determined by our state of inner consciousness. When our vibratory rate is high enough, it overcomes all darkness.

With blessings from the ever flowing waters.