Creation

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6th December 1950, Newcastle NSW Australia

It was December 6th 1950, a very hot day, temperatures over 40 degrees centigrade, and my mother was in labour in the Waratah West Maternity Hospital, Newcastle Australia. The Nursing Sister was throwing buckets of water over her to keep her cool. I was inside her and my lifestyle had changed dramatically over the last couple of hours.

I had been happy and content, snug, warm and secure, listening to the vibrations of my mother's voice and the beat of her heart. I was created over the last nine months, built with the integral blocks of flesh and bone, a seamless and timeless perfection of the replication of my Mum and Dad's ancestral DNA code; at the same time imbedded from heaven to flesh, bone and brain, with an impression of a cosmic spirit later named Alfred who had lived in heaven and had chosen Mum's womb at this time to give me spirit. Nature had slowly turned on my brain like a light with a dimmer switch. For a few weeks during this gradual coming of awareness, I passed through a zone that could only be described as the horrors. Torment and fright filled each day as I drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes engaging outwards within the small confines of my environment as I listened to the steady pulse and murmuring vibrations of the giant in which I lived, only to, at other times, be dragged backwards into unconsciousness as I explored internally, my young mind, the pathways and caves and outlets with nothing in them yet, to finally "die" as I was rendered " asleep" at the end of a neurological pathway.

Now my greater self, Alfred, who lives in heaven, was created by two unknown lovers; they loved each other unconditionally and created the spirit Alfred in the cosmos. Every time two lovers come together, a spirit is created in the cosmos and then one day the spirit gains a name. One day, a long time from now, the body, which my mother has built for me, will cease to function, at which time I will return to my greater self in heaven with sights, sounds and memories from a four dimensional world of several decades.

I had no idea of the prior life of this female giant. Her life had been tough in a modern sort of way. Her first husband had run away with another woman and left her emotionally crippled, alone with a baby girl and no support. She worked hard and trusted no one, especially not men, until she was thirty six years old when an old flame, a soldier, returned home a hero and wanted to settle down.

So at thirty eight years old, I was conceived and I grew inside her; a lack of testosterone during this period would put a question mark over my gender for all my life.

Then on this very hot day ...

All the intelligentsia I had collected, a flood of chemical messengers surging through my brain washed my reasoning and contentment away. I became restless and excited and my mother was squashing me without care or empathy. What was this change? I didn't want it, why should I? I fought her but she was too strong for me, then I saw a blinding light, white and brilliant, hurting my eyes. "Follow the light," my primeval ancestors said to me and then I felt the freezing cold on my face, a tremendously loud sound in my head, deafening and painful as I heard my cry. A frightening new place with so much space, my mother took me in her arms and spoke to me, and from the signature vibrations I knew it was her. I studied her face and automatically attached the presumption of love to it and made demands. My disc was blank once again but my biosystem kicked into survival mode and so began the lifelong game of love and politics.

Shortly after I was transported to the end of the street in a 30s model Willys four cylinder light green panel van, that was blowing smoke and had no guts. At the end of the street stood the Waratah Town Hall, right next to the Silcock's pottery works. Was my old man the Mayor? No, he was not, a fact that I always omitted in later life when I went to school. We lived upstairs in what had once been a big ballroom with twenty foot ceilings. The room was divided into two bedrooms and a living area by two metre partitions. The windows were dirty with no blinds or curtains and the blackout from World War II remained in the corners of the glass. I was put in a bassinet in a room with my sister, eighteen months my elder.

1940 Middle East

Dad had spent a lot of time in Syria, Palestine and Jerusalem, not fighting but training, there were a lot of good times spent in the towns, drinking with his mates and no doubt chasing girls. While he was there, he became very good friends with two other men and the story goes that they made a pact, that when they returned to Australia and got married, whoever survived the war, the first one to have a boy would name him, Alf. I was first and that was how I gained the name Alfred. So in a spiritual sense, the perception of me was created in the Middle East. He brought back several souvenirs from Jerusalem that have been passed on to the great grandchildren. One of these souvenirs is a mysterious small box with a secret opening. Inside I have placed 6 rings of different sizes: each ring is engraved with a character that must suit the wearer. On the twenty first birthday anniversary, each grandchild will receive a ring to commemorate bravery, duty and sacrifice and the rein of good over evil.

1951

The Power of One

Maybe my life began ...

When I realized that I had two mothers or rather in this case, a Mother and a Daddy. I was most likely less than one year old and it occurred in the doorway of my bedroom. It wasn't rocket science; I simply realized at that moment that this second person's attitude towards me was nearly identical to Mother's. I realized that he wanted into my life and had been trying to engage me in a slightly different style to Mother, which I needed to forgive him for, for the time being, to see where this thing went. I could see that my Mother trusted him and I could detect no malice or danger in his voice or manner. Well, not only did I have the cognitive ability to realize all this stuff, I apparently thought it important enough to remember it for sixty years. My Father, of course got well and truly into my life and he was completely smitten by me and my natural charm drew him into a lifelong love-trap and at the same time I was caught by him, this friendly giant that I found I would do anything to please.

I knew many words but I couldn't talk, I was a master of love and politics but my parents were showing me limits. Even though I realized I was a separate entity, at times it was difficult to tell, as the ebb and flow of communication between me and my parents was seamless. Not so for the Foxhound bitch my Father owned, who I tried to engage on numerous occasions and got treated as though I was not there. I looked at the dogs, cats and the chooks, studied them, compared their intellect and dexterity to mine and came to the conclusion that in comparison to them I was a god. Of course at one, I didn't have the concept of God as a...