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CHAPTER ONE Wakey, wakey
I said in my last book, Alice in Wonderland and the World Trade Centre Disaster, that I was at the end of an era in my life and at the start of new one.
I wrote:
I have written some one and a half million words about the manipulation of the human race in this five-sense level of reality by a network of secret societies and groups controlled by unseen forces that place their puppets in political, economic, military and media power to advance an agenda for a centralized global fascist state. It is important that we know this information and continue to add to the knowledge of how we are imprisoned by our 'free world'.
But there is more to know and do: much more. I knew that for me to take the story on and understand the even greater context in which this manipulation is unfolding, I would have to see into other dimensions of reality beyond the 'world' that we daily experience. This is exactly what happened to me in the Amazon rainforest of Brazil in 2003.
What I learned from these journeys of the mind is the major focus of this book.
Many of those who have been reading my
work thus far will find some of this extremely challenging as we
close in, still further, on the nature of the human condition and
the force that seeks to control and imprison us in a manufactured
illusion - 'The
Matrix'.
Many people ask me how I became involved in researching and exposing the global conspiracy. In this opening chapter I am going to summa rise the background to what happened to me. It is extremely relevant to my experiences in the Amazon and the way the information about the conspiracy has been presented to me day after day with such synchronicity since 1990. I was born in Leicester, England, at around 6.15pm on April 29th 1952. I grew up in what they call in Britain a 'working class' family.
This is often another way of saying 'skint', and in our case it certainly was. My father was Beric, the product of the toughest of lives, and the biggest influence on me in those early years. He was extremely sharp intellectually, but his background of poverty and daily survival meant that he could never achieve his ambition to be a doctor. Only those with money had any chance of that and my father had to leave school to provide an income for his family after his own father did a runner and left them.
These times left scars with him that he carried for the rest of his life and so did his experiences in the Great Depression of the 1930s when once he walked from London to Blackpool, a distance of some 200 miles, looking for work during the manufactured 'slump' in which unemployment soared while those responsible for it added massively to their wealth. He joined the Army Medical Corps during the Second World War and won the British Empire Medal for pulling airmen out of a blazing plane that crash-landed at the Chipping Warden Air Base in Oxfordshire in 1943.
He also served in the Middle East and moved up through Italy as the fascists retreated. He was stunned to see Roman Catholic churches with untold wealth in places like Naples surrounded by unbelievable poverty while those in such dire need went on giving to their merciless religion. It made him vehemently anti-religion for the rest of his life, but unfortunately he also rejected any idea of life after 'death' because he equated that with the view of the religions he so despised. His Naples stories and many more that he told me, shaped my outlook on life from a very early age. Any expressions of unfairness, injustice and imposition have always pressed my buttons.
From the start I was a rebel questioning the established order. My mother, Barbara, was the opposite of my father. He was dominating and wanted to control; she went quietly along doing whatever was necessary for her family. If you needed someone in a trench with you -she was among the first you should call. My earliest memory is sitting at an old battered table in a dark and dingy room. On the table was a bottle of sterilized milk, much used by the 'working class' of the 1950s because it lasted longer than the other sort.
That memory has come flooding back whenever I have smelled the distinctive whiff of sterilized milk. The scene was in a tiny terraced slum of a house in Lead Street, just off Wharf Street, in the rundown centre of Leicester, an industrial city in the English East Midlands. I lived in Lead Street for the first three years or so of my life and the sterilized milk is all I can recall. My second memory is running for the bus when we moved to a big new council estate on the outskirts of Leicester and the house where my mother and younger brother, Paul, still live some 50 years on. It is right across the road from the Leicester General Hospital where I was born.
Money was short, seriously short, throughout my childhood and I remember going with my mother around the back of the Gents clock factory on 'pay day' Thursdays, so my father could sneak out and hand over his wages to buy that night's dinner. Money in the bank? What's a bank?? As the old joke goes, until I was 14 I thought knives and forks were jewellery. On a number of occasions when there was a knock on the door my mother would tell me to hide under the window or behind a chair. There we would stay, still and quiet, until she gave the all clear.
I had no idea what this was all about until later when I realized the knock was the council rent man coming to collect the money we didn't have and, when no. one answered, he would walk around the house looking in the windows. This happened many times and it's funny, I sometimes still get a knot in my stomach when there's a knock at the door. Throughout my childhood I always felt different, although I didn't know why. I felt there was something I was here to do, but what? I was a loner and I spent hours, day after day, playing by myself with little metal trains on the window - still, lost for my own world. My mother has often recalled how I was so shy that I would cross the street to avoid speaking to people I knew.
All these years and many public professions later, I still prefer my own space and privacy and once a public event over I just want to get away and disappear from view. This has always been an apparent contradiction with me; in the public eye as a professional soccer player, national television presenter, politician and now author and challenger of conventional thought, yet all along I have been a person who dislikes 'limelight' and would prefer to be anonymous. This is not however, a contradiction, as I will explain later on.
I have always been extremely sensitive emotionally, and from the earliest time I can remember I have been scanning the whole spectrum of human emotion, often flipping from one to another very quickly. Again there is a reason for this, I was later to understand. One thing I knew from childhood is that I was not going to be one of the crowd. I was going to be different and if I couldn't be different I didn't want to be here. I wasn't going to accept a future based on the fact that I was '.working class' and therefore destined for a factory or some low paid job doing what someone else told me to do.
I am not knocking those who do that, far from it.
Without such people all those things we buy in the shops, including food, would not be there and I think the wages paid in these essential and hugely undervalued jobs is a disgrace. Keep the streets clean and they pay you a pittance; play the casino in Wall Street or the City of London, gambling with the very survival of millions of people, and they pay you a fortune. So I am not demeaning those who work in factories and find themselves pawns in a dictatorial and unjust system; it is simply that I decided early in my life that this was not going to be for me.
How I would escape from such a fate was not exactly clear, I just knew that I would. I failed the so-called Eleven-Plus exam that decided if my latter years at school would be in an elite grammar school (for the 'brightest and the best') or a secondary modem (for all the rest). I had no interest in school, it bored me rigid, and I only went because I had to and it allowed me to play for the soccer team. I rarely did more than average or less in exams, not least because I couldn't care less what grades I achieved.
I really didn't give a damn about logarithms or algebra or binary systems or any of the other stuff they were telling me to absorb or believe.
The only time I did well was one year at primary school when the teacher ridiculed and humiliated me in front of the class and said I was basically stupid. Immediately after this public put-down the teacher set a spelling test, hardly my best subject even to this day. But at the end of the lesson the poor guy had to somehow announce to the class that the child he had just ridiculed scored highest in the test. I can still hear him choking.
That year I came top of the class in the annual exams, but with a point proven to myself and the miserable teacher I went back to snoring through the rest of my time in the appalling school system, which is not there to educate, but to indoctrinate. It is so splendidly captured in that superb song by Pink Floyd -,"Hey teacher, leave those kids alone; all in all it's just another brick in the wall."
I was not going to be in the wall. I
would have jumped off it first.
The thought that David Icke would get in the team never occurred to me. I thought those things happened to others, not me. But I was picked and my self-confidence soared. I was about nine or ten and now I knew what my escape route would be. I was going to be a professional footballer. This would seem to have been a ridiculous ambition because the number of kids who make it to the professional game is an infinitesimal fraction of those who want to be footballers. But I was certain from the start that it was going to happen. I would spend hours every day with a football.
My father would say on many occasions that I was never going to earn a living kicking a ball about and I should think about what I was really going to do when I left school. I didn't consider anything else, not once. I knew I was going to be a professional footballer and that was it. I was a goalkeeper, which suited my personality perfectly.
Usually it's not easy finding kids who want to be goalkeepers because they all want to be outfield players scoring the goals. Often it was the lad who was the worst outfield player who got shoved in goal. But from the beginning I always wanted to be the goalkeeper. In many ways it is a loner position, a part of the team, yes, but with a very different role and different skills from the other players. That instinctively appealed to me and so did the responsibility of being the last line of defense.
If outfield players make mistakes they still have you to get them out of trouble, but when a keeper makes an error it is invariably punished with a goal and recorded on the score sheet. I liked that sense of living on the edge with the difference between hero and villain so finely balanced. I went on playing for school teams, but by the time I was 13, just two years before I was to leave for the dreaded adult world, there was still no sign that I would be heading for a professional football club.
Then, right on cue, a lucky break set me on my way. This has been such a feature of my life. Just when I have needed help to achieve something, bingo! There it is, often at a late hour when all seems lost. In those days if you wanted to attract the attention of the professional clubs you had to be playing for your town or city schools representative side, the best of all the schoolboy players in your area. The big clubs didn't bother looking below that level because they figured if you were not good enough to represent your city you would be of no interest to them. I was 13, a crucial time to impress the scouts looking for the best young talent, and I was nowhere near playing in the games they were watching.
By now I was attending Crown Hills Secondary Modem school in Leicester and spending most of my time staring out of the classroom window daydreaming away the boredom of the curriculum, little of which ever registered. Then one day the sports teacher told me he was sending me for a trial for the Leicester schoolboys under-14 team, but I would be going as an outfield player. There was a highly-rated goalkeeper at the trial that was certain to be selected, h~" said, and it wasn't worth me trying to compete with him. This was a lad who was already playing for the older under-IS Leicester team and so it was taken for granted that he would play for the younger side also.
But 'fate', as usual in my life, was to intervene.
I played outfield in the first trial game and was pretty hopeless. My heart was not in it because I only wanted to be a goalkeeper. I was asked to go and kick-around with other rejected boys while the second trial match was played. That's the end of that, I thought.
Then I heard a shout from where the trial was continuing.
One of the two goalkeepers had been injured and could not continue and when I took over I did so well that the manager asked me to come to the next trial a week later as a reserve goalkeeper to the one so highly rated. That day was to change my life. In the next trial game I played as well as I ever played in my entire career. The teams were seriously uneven and I was bombarded with shots from every angle. It was one of those days when if I had dived the wrong way the ball would have found the end of my foot and been deflected away.
It was almost as if I could not let in a goal even if I tried. I was picked for the team above the lad everyone thought-was a certainty. The next year I played for the Leicester under-18 team and the professional clubs began to knock on my door. I signed for Coventry City, then in England's top division, and I left school to earn my living doing exactly what I wanted to do.
I was a professional footballer, just as
I knew I would always be.
For years I refused to bow to the doctors' verdict that I should stop playing.
Staggeringly when I look back, I continued to play successfully for Coventry for four years despite the arthritis before I was told either to stop playing or to face life in a wheelchair. I was 19 when they gave me that verdict, but still determined to play on. I joined another club, Hereford United, and enjoyed a year of great success before the end came literally overnight.
The arthritis was so bad in that final year that every daily training session was agony until the joints were warmed up. I would be limping at the start of each session and every day I would have some excuse to hide the common cause. It would be a blister or a stiff calf muscle or something because I knew that if the club knew the real cause they would be looking for a new goalkeeper. The buzz and adrenalin would get me through the games and I was playing well, so no questions were asked. We won promotion to a higher division, I was playing in a professional league football team at just 20 and some bigger clubs were beginning to show an interest.
Then one night I looked down at my knees before I got into bed and saw that the swelling in my left knee had disappeared for the first time since I was 15 was elated and thought to myself, "Hey, I'm beating it."
The following morning as I began to awaken in a half-sleep, I realized that I could not breathe. I tried for what seemed an age to take in air and I thought I was going to die. I tried to nudge my wife, Linda, lying beside me, but I was unable to move a single muscle. Suddenly I gasped a breath and, as my body came back to life, I realized that what seemed like every joint in my body was agony.
I could not move on the bed, let alone
walk and, although the pain and lack of mobility were to ease with
the days, I was never to play football again.
This is for me, I thought, and I set my target of presenting the BBC's Grandstand, then the biggest and best sports show on British television. This was apparently even more ludicrous than my ambitions to play soccer for a living. A least there were around a hundred goalkeepers in professional teams, but you could count the BBC sports presenters on one hand.
So now this shy guy, who loves privacy and anonymity, wanted to be a national television anchorman. Bizarre on the face of it, but something just drove me on and, once again, I knew it was going to happen. I was told that the way to television news and sport would be by first working in newspapers and radio. There was an immediate problem, however.
With no academic qualifications of any shape or form it was not going to be easy finding a paper to take me on. Having worked in the media and seen it from the outside I can safely confirm that academic qualifications are absolutely no measure of intelligence, but that's what the system demands because examination passes confirm that you have passed successfully through its indoctrination machine. Anyway, eventually I got a job, by 'coincidence' back in Leicester, on a weekly newspaper that was just about read by the people who wrote it.
The paper was called the Leicester Advertiser and if its circulation had been human it would have been on a life support machine. I got the job because no one else wanted it. But soon I was moving on with doors opening and closing to perfection to speed me through to radio and then television. I worked as a news reporter and presenter with BBC regional and national news before, in 1982, becoming a nationally known anchorman with BBC Television.
Sport, the very job I had targeted all those years earlier when I was told my soccer career was over.
The day I first presented Grandstand I remember driving to the BBC in tears. It was nothing to do with fronting a TV show; it was achieving what I set out to do when my life and health were in tatters. My father used to say to me that you are never finished until you tell yourself you are finished, no matter what others may say. I would recall those words many times in the years to come. What he was saying, without knowing he was speaking a profound truth, is that we an. create our own reality.
What we believe is what will manifest in
our experience. Later I will discuss the simple process that allows
this to happen.
There were, and are, many exceptions, but they are not usually in the positions of hire and fire because to make it that far you need to have no problem with trampling over others or licking arse, often both. I continued to work for the BBC, in body if not in spirit, for another eight years, but my real focus was now elsewhere.
From childhood I had loved 'nature' and what has now been termed 'the environment'. I would ride for hours on my bike through the Leicestershire countryside enjoying the beauty and the solitude. As the 1980s progressed the protection of the environment became the centre of my life. I began an environmental pressure group on the Isle of Wight, just off England's south coast, where I have lived for more than 20 years.
But I realized that no matter how good
your arguments about an environmental issue the only thing that
mattered was the number of hands in the air at the local council
meetings when the vote was taken. If you didn't have the majority
supporting your case, its strength or validity was irrelevant. I
also began to understand that often the councilors' decisions on
which way to vote were being agreed at the local Freemasons' temple
before the 'debate' in the council chamber had even been heard.
They sent me some information that seemed to be sensible and I sent off my membership fee and began to organize public meetings to start a branch of the Greens on the Isle of Wight.
Things began to move very fast.
Within a couple of weeks I received a letter from the Green Party's regional organizer asking us to send a representative of the new Isle of Wight branch to their next meeting. I went along and at the end it was announced that their regional representative on the national party council was resigning and they needed nominations for his replacement. With no one wanting the job, I said I would do it and even so two people voted against me! I think they believed that being in television was 'ungreen'.
Anyway, another two weeks later I turned up at my first national council meeting in a building near Regents Park in London and found it awash with naval contemplators who could talk for England while never reaching a conclusion. I could completely understand why the Green Party had been such a nonentity in British politics. Just before lunch the 'chairperson' said they were looking for party spokesmen and women, or 'Party Speakers' as ~ Greens called them, to represent the party in the media for the coming year, and nominations would be taken during the afternoon.
During lunch I was approached by a guy who said he thought it would be good to have someone well known in the media to represent the party and would I be interested? I said, "OK, I'll give 'it-a try."
An hour or so later I was elected a National Speaker for the UK Green Party. I had been a member for a matter of weeks. My appointment coincided with a surge of interest in the environment, fuelled by a series of prime-time television programs highlighting the plight of rainforests and the consequences of pollution. By the summer of 1989 this reached a peak of public concern and suddenly the UK Green Party was big news when we won 15 % of the national vote in elections to the European Parliament.
Up to this point the party had rarely registered more than 1%. From empty press conferences and empty halls, the party, and its official speakers, were thrust onto the national news and into the political limelight. The Green Party had arrived, but, as it transpired, not for long. A battle ensued between those in the party who wanted to be true to its original beliefs (the 'fundis' or fundamentalists) and those who liked the success and were pressing to drop policies they believed were preventing even more support (the 'realos' or realists.)
I was a 'fundi-realo' in that I wanted to stick with the values, but present them to the public in a much more effective way. I wrote a book called It Doesn't Have To Be Like This (Green Print, London, 1989) with this end in mind. But the infighting sickened me and more so when it became clear that while the Green Party claimed to be the 'new politics', it was just another "version of the old politics with the same old methods, manipulations and reactions. The Green Party set out to challenge the system and ended up joining it.
Many times it has been reported that I was "sacked" by the Green Party for what was now to unfold in my life, but the truth is that I never renewed my membership because the Greens were clearly not going to change anything. Ironically, another reason I distanced myself from the party in the months that followed was because some very strange things were happening to me and I knew that when I spoke about them publicly I was going to be in for some serious ridicule.
I had reached the most pivotal point in my life and what I had experienced this far was going to be so important in what was to come. I had felt the emotional trauma of seeing my dreams of being a footballer shattered by arthritis. In pursuing a cure I had been introduced to the ancient Chinese healing art of acupuncture and that had opened me to an understanding that there is far more to the human being than just a physical body. Playing in such pain had triggered a determination to overcome adversity and to keep going, no matter what the challenges and the odds.
Journalism had shown me how the media works and how much the 'news' is manipulated. I was able to see how the media is structured to confirm the official version of events and not to question or investigate this official reality. I could see that most journalists are some of the most uniformed, conditioned and imprisoned people you could ever meet.
How can they report the world as it is when they have not got a clue how it is?
Journalism also allowed me, through the demands of newspaper space, to develop the ability to write concisely and communicate to an audience spanning the whole spectrum of knowledge on the subjects in question.
My television career presented insights into that medium's manipulations, techniques and often unbelievable shallowness, both on the screen and off. The national public profile it gave me also ensured that I would be widely reported when the time came for me to consciously awaken and see beyond the illusion. My time in the Green Party showed me politics from the inside and how it is a game of power not principle, no matter what the name on the door may be.
I saw how many politicians who opposed and condemned each other in public 'debate' were very much closer in private.
My life this far had given me all that I
needed for what was to come.
It was like I was writing it all in a dream. At this same time I began to feel a presence around me. When I was in a room alone it felt as if someone else was there and this went on for months as I continued my work with the BBC.
Eventually I was sitting on the side of the bed in a hotel room in London in early 1990 and the presence felt so strong that I said out loud:
Soon afterwards events began to accelerate. In March 1990, I was playing soccer with my son Gareth, then aged eight, on the seafront at Ryde on the Isle of Wight and I said to him we would go for lunch at the railway station cafe nearby. The cafe was full and as we headed for an alternative someone recognized me from the television and began to ask me questions about soccer.
When the conversation was over, I couldn't see Gareth, but I knew he would be in the newspaper shop at the station looking at books about steam trains in which we both have an interest. And so he was. I stood at the entrance to the shop and said to Gareth that we would go and find another cafe, but, as I turned to leave, my feet were stuck to the ground as if two magnets were anchoring them to the floor. It was a very weird feeling, almost as if, as I now understand, another reality had manifested around me.
As I stood there, my feet fixed to the spot, I heard a very clear voice in my mind say:
Shit, what was that? What the hell is going on here?
I knew this news shop very well and the books in that 'far side' section were of no interest to me. They were invariably romantic fiction of the Barbara Cartland variety. But given what the voice said I went over to see what would happen, not least because that was the only direction my feet would move. I was immediately attracted to a book with a woman's face on the front. It was like this was the only book I could see, a feeling I have had endless times since. I turned it over to read the blurb and saw the word psychic.
The author' was a professional psychic and 'hands on' healer and I thought at once of the presence I had been feeling around me for all these months. Would this lady be able to tell me what was going on? I read the book in 24 hours and contacted her to make an appointment. I said nothing about the presence, only that I had arthritis and I wanted to see if her healing could help.
I was not going to say anything about
what had been happening to me unless she piked up the story
psychically.
Up to this point I had never really pondered on an alternative to this nonsense, but as I talked with the psychic I was immediately at one with what she was saying about the multidimensional nature of reality and the ability of one dimension to communicate with others. It was as if she was te1ling me that I already knew -which is exactly what she was doing. We all know this information, but we have been conditioned to forget who and what we really are because that suits the agenda of the manipulators. For those new to such ideas, some background is necessary.
We don't live in a 'world' so much as a frequency range; the one that our five-senses can access and perceive and the five-sense range of perception is tiny. Creation is not structured like a chest of draws, one level on top of another. It is made up of frequencies sharing the same space in the same way that all the radio and television frequency do.
Those broadcast frequencies are not just around your body at this moment, they are sharing the same space. This is possible because they are operating on a different frequency range or wavelength to your body and each other. Only when the frequencies are really close do we get 'interference' and become aware of another station.
Apart from that all are oblivious to each other's existence because they literally operate in different frequencies, different 'realities' or 'worlds'. When you tune your radio to a station, say Radio 1, that's what you get. You don't hear Radio 2, 3, or 4 because they are not broadcasting on the wavelength to which your radio is tuned. Move the dial from the frequency of Radio 1 to Radio 2 and now, obviously, you hear Radio 2.
But Radio 1 did not cease to broadcast when you moved the dial from its wavelength. It goes on broadcasting -existing -while your focus, your consciousness, is tuned to something else. This is precisely the principle on which Creation operates, or at least the part that we are currently experiencing. The five-senses through which we see, hear, smell, touch and taste can perceive an infinitesimal fraction of that which exists in the space you think you are 'seeing' now. This is why animals, like cats, jump around reacting to what appears to us to be 'empty' space.
To the cats, this space is not empty at all. They have a greater visual frequency range and they can see entities and scenes that are beyond the frequency limits of the human five-senses. When people say that everything is within you or, symbolically, the Kingdom of Heaven is within you, this is correct.
All infinity is within us because all of infinity shares all space. The point is, however, that we can't see all of infinity with our five-senses" just as you cannot hear all the radio stations available by tuning to one of them. W see only that tiny part of infinity that is vibrating to the frequency range of those senses -what we see, hear, touch, smell and taste. This is what I call the five-sense prison because most people are so trapped in its manufactured and manipulated illusions that they believe that this is all that exists and all that they are. It is their only reality.
This is further ingrained and conditioned by the 'education' system, the media and 'science', all of which are dominated by the belief that the 'world' of the five-senses is basically all that there is.
This is what the manipulators want us to believe for reasons I will explore in due course. When energy is vibrating slowly it appears to us to be 'dense' and 'solid', but look at it under a microscope and no matter how solid something seems to be it is still vibrating energy. As the speed of vibration increases the energy becomes less and less dense until it is vibrating so quickly that it leaves the frequency range of the five-senses and to human perception 'disappears'. It has not disappeared in fact; it has simply left the range that human senses can access.
This is happening when people say they saw a ghost or a 'UFO' and it 'appeared' out of nowhere and then 'disappeared'. The conditioned five-sense reality thinks these people must be mad because such things are not possible. Oh, but they are the 'nowhere' from which such manifestations come and go is simply another frequency or wavelength of existence. Understanding all this is crucial to appreciating that the 'far out' world of the so-called 'paranormal' is perfectly and simply explainable.
The longer this book goes on the simpler it will become.
On the third visit to the psychic, I was lying on the couch during the healing session when I felt like a spider's web on my face. I had remembered reading in her ok that this can happen when 'spirits' are trying to make contact. Funnily enough I have never felt it since. I said nothing to her, but within ten to fifteen seconds she pushed her head back and said: "This is powerful; I'll have to close my eyes for this one!" She said she was seeing a Chinese-type figure in her mind, who said that "Socrates is with me".
Socrates (469-399 BC) was the Greek philosopher and genius who's most famous pupil was Plato. At the age of 70, Socrates was charged by the authorities with heresy and corruption of local youth and he carried out the death sentence himself by drinking hemlock.
Among a library of famous quotes, Socrates said,
The 'Chinese figure' was only a projection from another dimension into the mind of the psychic to give her a familiar image to focus on. The communicator was consciousness from beyond the realm of the 'physical' body and can take any form it chooses. This is what we all are in our highest form, pure consciousness. The 'physical' body is only a vehicle for that consciousness to experience these dense 'five-sense' frequencies of existence.
The other-dimensional communicator projects thought into a psychic's mind and he or she decodes that into human language. It is the same principle as the radio programs that are broadcast from ~ transmitter in wave form and decoded into words by the radio. An Italian psychic will 'hear' the thought projections in Italian, an English one in English and so on.
This is how the psychic reported some of what the 'Chinese' figure had to say to and about me:
I was a BBC television presenter introducing the sport and a national spokesman the Green Party. Yet here I was being told that I was a healer who was here to heal the Earth and that one man cannot change the world, but one man can communicate the message that will change the world. Ugh? Come again???
On one level it seemed so ridiculous, but something within me knew I had to go with this see where it led: What happened as a result of this unstoppable urge to walk path is that my life went through upheavals that were almost too much for my emotions to bear. But, all these years and so much pain later, what I was told would happen has either happened or is happening.
The idea that I would write five books three years on subjects about which, at that time, I knew nothing seemed especially ridiculous. But I was to complete those books in three years to the very nth.
When I told some of the Green Party leadership about these experiences, their reaction was just as closed-minded, ignorant and uninformed as you would anywhere in the system the Greens were claiming to challenge.
Yeah, right.
Welcome to the new politics!
It was a very mild precursor to what was to follow incidence would lead me to other psychics in this early awakening period and they did not know what the others had told me. Yet the themes were constant. There was a shadow across the world that had to be lifted, a story that had to be told, and I was going to tell it.
Among these communications were:
So you are being asked to change. You
are being asked to change in a total way. It is not a matter of
small changes, of a little thing here, a little thing there. You are
really being asked to turn [yourself] inside out. There is a massive
shadow which must be cleared and it is up to Light Workers such as
yourself to focus ... on that challenge.
I learned much later that many ancient traditions say that the 'physical world' was once far more fluid and less dense than we experience today and the aborigines in Australia say the Earth is destined to return to this higher vibrational state they call 'Dream time'.
We are certainly in the midst of
enormous change that will set this 'world' free of its subservience,
ignorance and density (in every sense).
The main reason was clearly pressure from the BBC hierarchy to get rid of me because of my Green Party activities and especially my refusal to pay the Poll Tax introduced during the dictatorial reign of Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher. It demanded that rich and poor pay the same, a blatant injustice, and I was one of millions who withheld payment in protest at its unfairness. These millions eventually had to appear in court and there was enormous media interest when the first cases were heard. Now fate stepped in again.
The first cases could have reached court anywhere in the United Kingdom, but where did it happen?
At Newport, the little market town of the Isle of Wight, where my case was among those on the list. I arrived at the court to a blur of television cameras and newspaper reporters and photographers as they came to record the first Poll Tax protestors being prosecuted. Except that they weren't, it was to turn out. I waited for hours as row after row of protestors were dealt with for their refusal (often inability) to pay.
They couldn't deal with them individually because there were so many. Then, at last, I was called and stood before the magistrates with six or seven others to face the charges. But one in the group, a guy I had met at Poll Tax protest meetings, put his hand in the air and asked a question. He pointed out the date by which the payments should have been made and the date on which the summonses were sent out to non-payers ordering them to appear in court. He then revealed that, according to the law, the period between the two dates was too short and the prosecutions happening that day were illegal.
The atmosphere in the court changed immediately and the magistrates adjourned for discussions. When they returned around half an hour later they had to announce that the man was correct and all prosecutions that day were invalid and everyone was free to go. I pointed out to the magistrates that it was not that simple.
People had been brought to court illegally and had lost a day's earnings and incurred transport costs as a result. What about the compensation? The authorities had no choice, but to agree. Loss of earnings was repaid and I was to receive a cheque for £2.50 for my bus fare. These events were blazed across the television news and the front pages of all the newspapers and Margaret Thatcher's Poll Tax was a national joke. From this point, with its credibility demolished, it had no chance of survival and had to be replaced with one more in tune with the ability to pay. The next morning I arrived at the BBC to see the corporation's head of sport to discuss my 'future'.
All across his table were the morning papers recording the Poll Tax fiasco in Newport with my face on most of them.
Mmmm.
I was told basically that I had no future at the BBC and a few weeks later we parted company after eleven years with not even a thank-you or a best of luck. The BBC is actually an arrogant and often vicious organization that treats its staff like cattle.
But then so do most other television
companies, that's the nature of the beat.
My then wife Linda and my children were, of course, even more confused than I was. At least I had directly experienced the strange happenings; they knew only what I had told them. And here was their husband and father, a well-known face on national television for eight years, suddenly out of a job, talking about weird events and ideas and soon to be publicly ridiculed on a scale rarely seen in all British media history.
The fact that they stood by me and did not once waver in their support no matter happened, was one of the key factors in my ability to survive what was about to unfold. So it was with my television agent, Paul Vaughan, who never ceased to support me even when it would have been much easier for him to walk away. My only desire was to follow the rapidly changing course of my life.
Strange it all may have been, but there was a force within me that knew this was the way I had to go. Through the latter months of 1990 I wrote my first book about these events, Truth Vibrations.
When it went to the printers just before the Christmas of 1990, the sequence began that led to the explosion in my consciousness that changed almost everything I had ever thought or believed. I suddenly had a tremendous urge to go to Peru, although I had no idea where this came from. I knew nothing about Peru and had never even thought about the place until now. In this same period I kept seeing the word 'Peru' everywhere, on books, in newspapers and in travel agent windows.
I met another psychic lady who said without any prompting from me:
This comment came back to me a few weeks later when I was drinking water from the Urubamba River, the 'holy river', which flows through the Sacred Valley of Incas near Peru's ancient and formerly 'lost' city of Machu Picchu. Everything I was doing since I had those first communications through the psychic was based purely on intuition. I didn't know why I was going to Peru, for instance, only that had to for some reason.
My head, my 'logic', told me that I should not be spending money I could not afford to make such an expensive trip, but by now my head was no match for my 'heart', from where our intuitive 'knowing' communicates with us. I don't mean the physical heart, but the spiritual one that can be felt in the centre of the chest. It is a vortex or "charka" (meaning 'wheel of light') that connects the 'physical' level with our higher consciousness beyond the five-senses. This is the true origin to why the physical heart is used today to symbolize love. It comes from a lost understanding of what the 'heart' really means in this context.
When you feel great love or compassion notice how you feel it in the centre of the chest -that's the heart charka or vortex through which we also feel our intuitive 'knowing'.
When someone is trying to make a decision we say:
The heart chakra is our connection to our higher consciousness beyond this 'world' while our 'head', our conditioned mind, is caught in the trap of 'thinking' in accordance with the rules and regulations of the five-sense reality. Most people are imprisoned by their 'head', which is indoctrinated to believe the official version of what is right and wrong, moral and immoral, sane and insane: the 'norms' of society.
This is an expression of the Earth-bound consciousness, the 'lower' or 'five-sense' mind, that is daily manipulated to accept a version of reality and possibility that suits the agenda of those in control. It is based on limitation, rules and regulations and the "I can't", "you can't", mentality.
It sees why something cannot be done or shouldn't be done and rarely why it can or should. It is also frozen by fear and this holds humanity in a mental and emotional prison cell. The 'heart', the intuition, however, is our connection with the Infinite self beyond the five-senses. The 'heart' feels rather than thinks and it has 'knowing' rather than second-hand 'knowledge' gleaned from the indoctrination machine.
Most people have an inner 'war' going on between what they think and feel, what their head tells them to do and what they intuitively feel to do.
Almost every time the head is the winner. It is easier that way, or appears to be, in a society founded on the imposition of thought and belief. Once the 'norms' of society are decided and imposed by the system through 'education', 'science', the media and so on, any rebels or freethinkers are subjected to ridicule or condemnation (in my case both) for the crime of being different or challenging this ludicrously limited version of reality and possibility.
This process is captured superbly by a Japanese saying:
Anyone who seriously follows their intuitive 'knowing' rather than their indoctrinated, fearful, head/mind is going to face the ridicule and condemnation of the psychological fascists. These are not only people in jackboots with silly moustaches; they are our parents, 'friends', colleagues at work, and, if you are ~the public eye, 'journalists' and the public in general. Anyone, in fact, who makes it difficult or unpleasant to be different.
Most of the human race is so utterly indoctrinated by the externally implanted 'norms' that bombard their mind from cradle to grave that they have no comprehension that their 'normal' thinking their own individual and collective prison. Such is their bewilderment they not only contribute minute by minute to the building of their prison, they defend it ferociously from anyone who questions or challenges the foundations and assumptions on which it stands.
It is what I term the "flat Earth mentality".
When the norm was that the Earth was flat anyone who claimed it was round was subjected to ridicule and condemnation, even imprisonment and death. When the norm changed with the deluge of evidence to accept the Earth was a sphere, the roles immediately reversed and anyone who claimed it was flat then got the treatment.
Norms rule, OK?
Set the norms and you control human perception and behavior. This is why exposing norms for the nonsense they are is so important. Those who live life through their intuition always attract the attention of the Thought Police because the 'head' and the 'heart', the lower 'mind' and the higher consciousness, view reality from a completely different point of observation. I will get into this in detail later, but symbolically you could put it like this: if the 'five-sense' mind was sailing down a river it could only see as far as the next bend.
But the higher consciousness communicating through the intuition would see the whole' river from source to sea. It would know what was coming and the most effective course of action at any given point. It would know if there was bad weather ahead and if it was best to stop where you are until it passes. It would know if you were heading for a massive waterfall or if there were bandits lurking downstream and it could guide you to avoid them.
None of this is available to the five-sense mind because it has such a limited vision and ability to see beyond its perceived 'norms'.
The five-sense mind disconnected from its higher consciousness is engaged in a constant and furious battle with the intuition because if it surrendered its reality to the higher one it would lose its perceived power over events and behavior. If someone on the boat said their intuition told them there were bandits around the comer, the lower minds of the others would ask them for the 'proof'.
They would be told not to be so stupid and to stop spoiling the trip. In the same way people have refused to get on aircraft that were to crash because they had a 'feeling' -intuition from their higher consciousness.
Even if these people had told the other passengers what they felt most would have still got on the plane because their head would tell them the chances of crashing were miniscule and, anyway, they needed to get to their destination to attend a business meeting or make a dinner date. Also, the great breakthroughs in understanding, including those in science, are invariably the result of an intuition, a 'gut feeling', rather than the intellect working it all out.
The intuitive is the inspiration 'and
the intellect only confirms it.
It is like that scene with Robin Williams in the 1989 movie, Dead Poets Society (Touchstone Pictures), when he told his pupils in the 'norm' -dominated school:
With perfect timing just before my 'awakening' I had some experiences that led me to decide that if ever my mind and my intuition, my head and my heart, were in conflict again I would always go with my intuition. I have never wavered from that to this day. As I was soon to find, this commitment to the intuitive can land you with serious challenges in a world that operates through head and mind.
In the midst of such experiences the head is screaming at the heart:
This is where most people pull back and return to the head, the experiment over. But when you stay with it and continue to follow your intuitive knowing in the face of all the consequences that may follow, a wonderful, liberating, transformation begins to manifest. The mind is judging events only by its perspective of seeing to the next bend, but your intuition is viewing the entire river.
It knows that while things might seem bad at this point, the experience is leading somewhere really positive a little downstream. This has happened to me constantly and never more so than in the opening years of the 1990s. As a result of staying with my intuition no matter what, my lower or five-sense mind has been able to observe 'logically' that while following your intuition can throw up enormous challenges, the experience always turns out to be what was necessary from the bigger perspective.
It sees that what seemed to be self destruction actually leads to a positive outcome that happens, not despite the 'self-destructive' experience, but because of it. With this realization the head/mind moves into harmony with the intuition and the war between what you think and feel comes to an end. The two become the same.
You follow your intuitive 'knowing'
without the head symbolically banging its fist on the table.
I had a feeling to head for Cusco in the Andes, the centre of the ancient Inca civilization, and I saw on the departure board that a plane was leaving for there in around 35 minutes. But the airport was a mass of people and I had yet to buy a ticket. No chance of getting that flight, I thought.
Then a Peruvian guy speaking pretty good English emerged through the crowd and asked me where I was going.
This he did in very quick time, taking his commission on the way, of course. By now the flight was close to leaving and I went to the back of a long line waiting to check in. Again it was clearly impossible for me to make the departure time, now 20 minutes away. But as I prepared for a long wait, my fixer said: "No, no, follow me." He took me down to the front of the queue where his friend was on the check in.
The friend immediately stopped what he was doing and began to check me onto the flight. Considerably less than an hour after landing in Lima I was walking back across the tarmac to board the plane to Cusco. Such 'coincidences' were to be constantly repeated for the next three amazing weeks and, in fact, have continued ever since. I arrived at my rundown hotel and sat on the bed wondering what to do next. Someone I had met a few days earlier had given me the telephone number of a friend in Cusco and I made a call to see what would happen.
She turned out to be the manager of a local travel agency and within an hour my basic travel plans and arrangements for the next two weeks were sorted. She also called a Peruvian guide she knew who would show me around the country and the next day I arrived at his home to meet him and begin what was to be an incredible adventure. The door was open and I walked in to find him asleep on the floor. As he opened his eyes his first words were not hello or good morning, but "did you have any dreams last night?"
After recovering from the surprise of his opening remarks, I said that yes I had. The dream was very vivid and included one of my front middle teeth falling out.
Making an international phone call in Peru outside of Lima is far from easy, certainly then anyway, but a week later when I finally managed to ring later, I found that my father had died at that time back in England.
His funeral had taken place before I even knew he had died. I was to stay longer than planned in Peru and for the next three weeks as I travelled around much of the country, a daily sequence began to repeat itself. Each morning I would tell the guide where I intuitively felt to go and he would invariably tell me it wasn't possible. But every day we would somehow end up there. I went to some stunning occasions, not just the famous tourist sites like the extraordinary Machu Picchu, but many other unforgettable places.
Eventually we arrived in a town in southern Peru called Puno, not far from Lake Titicaca.
The guide had booked us in a hotel called the Sillustani, named after an ancient Inca site about an hour's drive away. For-obvious reasons there were pictures of the place around the hotel and I told the guide I wanted to go there. True to form he said it was not possible at that time of year without spending a lot of money, but my intuition to go was so strong that I said I would do whatever was necessary.
I had to hire a tourist mini-bus for
myself (or so the guide told me) and off I went with him and the
driver.
The area was uninhabited and surrounded by distant mountains. It was quiet with only a couple of children waiting with a Lama hoping to sell photographs to tourists. But there weren't any, apart from me. After I walked around the ruins for an hour or so under the piercing Peruvian Sun, I went back to the tourist bus to return to Puno.
I though~ the trip was over and I felt deflated and disappointed because, lovely as this place was, what I had experienced did not begin to match the power of the intuition I had to' gC1 there. About three minutes down the road I was daydreaming out of the window when I saw a mound to the right.
It caught my attention and as I looked at the mound, a voice in my head began to repeat:
What? That mound is talking to me?? I asked the driver to stop the bus and said I was going to walk up the mound.
Although I couldn't see it from the road, at the top of the mound there was a circle of standing stones about waist high and they had clearly been there a long time. I stood in the centre of the circle looking back across to Sillustani and the mountains way off in the distance. There was not a cloud in the sky and the Sun was extremely hot, burning my face.
Suddenly, I felt my feet being pulled like magnets into the ground again. It was the same as in the newspaper shop in Ryde, but this time it was far more powerful. My arms then reached up above my head without any conscious decision from me. If you put your arms above your head, slightly outwards at about 45 degrees you'll see how they start to ache within a minute. My arms were like that for well over an hour and I felt nothing until it was over and then my shoulders were agony. I felt like a drill sensation in the top of my head and I could feel a flow of energy going the other way up from the ground through my feet and out through the top my head.
I heard a voice in my mind that said,
What was that about rain? What bloody rain?
There was not a cloud to be seen anywhere, just a brilliant Sun in a clear blue sky. What was happening to me? I stood there unable to move as the energy increased to the point where my body was shaking as if plugged into an electrical socket. Time became meaningless; there was no 'time' as we perceive it, no past, no future, only the moment I was experiencing. I kept moving in and out of conscious awareness, much like you drive a car and wonder where the last few miles have gone.
The car has been driven by your subconscious while the conscious was off in a daydream. In one of my returns to awareness I saw there was a light grey mist over the distant mountains and as I watched it got darker and darker. My god, it was raining over there, although far away. Soon the rain clouds emerged from the mountains with ridiculous speed. I can only describe it as like pulling a curtain across the sky as a straight line of cloud I loved towards me covering the Sun. When it came closer I was seeing faces in the clouds, billowing like dry ice in a stage show.
By now my body was shaking so fiercely from the energy passing through me that I could hardly stand. Eventually the clouds were overhead and it began to rain. As I felt the water on my face the surges of energy stopped as if a switch had been flicked. I staggered forward, my legs like jelly, my shoulder and arm muscles now stiff and painful. It was only at this point that I noticed that the Peruvian guide was standing next to the circle, tired of waiting for me in the bus.
If a facial expression ever said "mad Englishman", his was it.
Energy was pouring from my hands with tremendous power and I went down to the bus to grab a crystal in effort to diffuse some of it.
I only had the crystal because I had walked into a shop in Glastonbury, England, two weeks before and the owner had just picked it up and given it to me for free.
My feet also continued to burn and vibrate for some 24 hours. I could hardly sleep that night because of it. The next day I arrived at an astonishing place called Sun Island in Lake Titicaca, which spans the Peruvian and Bolivian, borders and is claimed to be the highest navigable lake in the world at some 13,000 feet.
According to legend, Sun Island and nearby Moon Island were the birthplace of the Sun and Moon and these bodies took human form as the first Inca, Manco Capac and his sister-wife Mama Ocllo. There is no electricity on the island and without the visual pollution of neon light the stars appear so close and in such incredible clarity. I stepped out of the little fishing boat and onto the shore, still trying to make sense of what had happened to me on that mound. There I met a blonde Argentine lady who had been in La Paz, Bolivia, the day before when she had felt strongly that she had to go to Sun Island.
She arrived only half an hour before I did. When I shook her hand to say hello she wouldn't let go and, although she couldn't speak English, she made gestures to my hand saying something like "What's this I can feel?"
What was she talking about? What could she feel? What had happened to me on that mound? For sure in the weeks that followed my life and perceptions went through a transformation that took me to the limits of mental and emotional survival. It was like a dam had burst in my consciousness.
The five-sense mind was suddenly flooded
with new perceptions, thoughts and ideas and it was just too much to
process at once, and make any sense of it.
The book and my public behavior and statements led to unimaginable national ridicule blasted across the front pages of the newspapers and on television and radio programs galore. I could literally not walk down any street in Britain without being ridiculed by the people. I lived my life at this time to the sound Of-laughter. Going into a bar? Forget it. There was uproar.
I would stop at traffic lights and look across to see whole families laughing at me in the car alongside and television comedians only had to say my name to trigger riotous laughter. My children were laughed at in the street and at school and they were followed by tabloid journalists trying to dig the dirt. One freelance 'journalist' on the Isle of Wight was especially appalling, gleefully taking money from the tabloids to do their dirty work while claiming to be my 'friend'.
The hysteria reached its peak when I appeared on a live prime-time television chat show hosted by Britain's then best-known TV 'personality', Terry Wogan. He has since said publicly that he regrets how he handled the interview, which was big of him, really. But at the time he took the ridicule route. Such was the publicity in the media that the Wogan show audience were laughing within a minute or so of me sitting down and that pretty much continued for the whole of the interview.
I became famous for wearing turquoise clothes because after the experience on the mound I began to want to wear only turquoise, which is a very powerful and sacred color to many native and esoteric beliefs. Native Americans are one major example of this. Years later when I met my now great friend, Credo Mutwa, a Sanosi or shaman and the official historian of the Zulu nation in South Africa, he was decked from neck to toe in brilliant turquoise.
At the time I knew nothing of esoteric meaning of turquoise, only that I felt strongly to wear it. Funny, some of the-media could not even get that right and many articles reported my obsession with "purple". The other foundation of the ridicule was that I had supposed to have called myself the Son of God, implying that I was Jesus or something. Ironically 'Jesus' is a 'man' I have no doubt did not exist as depicted by Christianity as I have explained in detail in some of my books. I used the term 'Son of God' in the sense of being an aspect, as I understood it at the time, of the Infinite consciousness that is everything.
As I have written before, we are like droplets of water in an ocean of infinite consciousness. We are 'individual' on one level, but also part of the infinite whole. More than that, we are the infinite whole as I shall later explain. I was not trying to say I had come to save the world or anything, only that, like everyone and everything else in all existence, I was an aspect of the Infinite and not just a physical 'personality'.
If you call the Infinite consciousness 'God', I was trying to say, we are all the symbolic 'sons' and 'daughters' of 'God'. Obviously my awareness of these matters has increased dramatically since then, but that was the basis of my comments about being a 'Son of God'.
However, I was both misrepresented in the media and, with my mind downloading so much information following the mound in Peru, I wasn't grounded or 'here' enough to articulate clearly what I was trying to say and this led to even greater misrepresentation and misunderstanding among those who ridiculed and laughed. All I can say to 'Jesus' is that if you are there, mate, don't for goodness sake come back because they'll bloody crucify you - Christians as mlftll as anyone.
If you do return I would definitely do
the cloud trick to give yourself any chance at all. Some comedians
were funny rather than vindictive, though, and I recall the
brilliant British comic, Jasper Carrot, saying that I couldn't be
the Son of God because you'd never find three wise men and virgin in
Leicester.
The head/mind is the experiencer of this dense frequency range and, if the head listens to the heart, the higher consciousness is the intuitive 'guide' that observes this realm from beyond its prison walls and manipulated illusions. It is my experiencer level that dislikes the public spotlight and my higher consciousness that is totally at peace with talking off the cuff for hours to any number of people you care to assemble.
While the audience were laughing at me on the Wogan show my five-sense mind, the illusory 'personality' called 'David Icke', was in emotional turmoil and agony. But there was another level of me I also recall very clearly.
It was saying:
Many times I had a major problem believing these words, I must say, but so it has proved to be. I understand why people thought I had self-destructed and why, even now with the gathering recognition my books are enjoying, that the 'turquoise', 'Son of God', period is seen as an unfortunate disaster that has made my subsequent work far more difficult in terms of public credibility in Britain.
But such people miss the point.
This period of unbelievable ridicule did
not make my subsequent work more difficult; it made it possible.
To do what I was to do years down the line I had to free myself from the prison that almost everyone on the planet lives in every day. It is a prison that disconnects lower mind from Infinite self and the one that daily holds humanity in slavery to a system created and orchestrated by the few to this very end. It is the fear of what other people think.
Most people are not living the lives they want to lead or speaking their own undiluted truths because they are frightened of the reaction of others -parents, teachers, 'friends' and neighbors if their views and lifestyle are at odds with the 'norms' on which this lunatic asylum is founded. They keep their heads down and their mouths shut. Don't be the nail that stands out above the rest because that's the first one to get hit.
In short, they are not living their truth or expressing their uniqueness and desires; they are conforming to what society and its parent, teacher, 'friend' and neighbor. Thought Police dictate should be the limits of their lives and views. How could I write and talk about the challenging and often 'bizarre' concepts in my books if I still cared what anyone thought of met Impossible. I would be editing information, even leaving out great swathes altogether, because of my concern with what others would think.
Thanks to that onslaught of ridicule in the early 1990s the prison door opened.
I was going to speak my unfiltered truth and if people didn't like it, well that's just too bad. They must believe something else then, it's all the same with me. When you are faced with the level of ridicule that I endured year after year, you either go under and have a breakdown, or you ditch any concern with what other people think of you and have a breakthrough. You walk out of the sheep pen into the light of freedom. The ridicule may have been a nightmare at the time to my insecure lower mind, but my higher consciousness knew why it had to happen. It was to set me free.
As that 'psychic' communication said in the earliest days of my awakening:
As I said earlier, the 'physical' body is connected to its other energy 'bodies' beyond the five-sense domain by those spinning vortexes known as 'chakras' from the ancient Sanskrit word meaning wheels of light. We have these all over the body, but there are seven main ones, as illustrated in Figure 1 below.
Each chakra represents a different level of being. For instance, the one in the solar plexus is the connection to our emotional level and this is why we feel emotions like fear and worry in the belly. We call it having "butterflies in the tummy" or "getting the shits", but really the sensation is coming from the solar plexus chakra. The chakras inter-connect with the physical body through the endocrine system and the vibrational state of the chakra affects the body in infinite ways.
The balance point of the three lower ('physical') chakras and the three higher (mental and spiritual) ones is the heart chakra. It is from here that we can balance the physical and non-physical levels of being and this is our connection to our highest levels of intuitive knowing. A kundalini experience is when tremendously powerful energy is released through the base chakra at the bottom of the spine.
This process is described by Itzhak Bentov in his book, Stalking the Wild Pendulum 2
This is what happened to me. It was the cause of my ‘dam burst’ and the process began on the mound in Peru. The kundalini exploded up through my spine, activating all the chakras and my brain into a higher level of contact with the ocean of infinite consciousness.
With that initial explosion came the apparent chaos in my mind as I was transforming from one energy state to another. It was this activation that caused me to suddenly see the world and myself in a totally different way and my mind was bombarded with information and concepts I could not process for months. I felt like a computer that had locked up because too many keys had been pressed at once. This was my state on the Wogan show and public ignorance of these matters led me to be labeled "mad".
This is the normal defense response to anyone who is significantly different and I was now seriously different.
As Angela Monet said:
What they called madness was really transformation. Itzhak Bentov points out that the psychological symptoms of the more extreme kundalini experience (and mine was) "tend to mimic schizophrenia" and many people are sent to mental institutions because 'modem' medicine does not understand what is happening.
He goes on:
Bentov says that the diagnosis of 'schizophrenia' stems from the kundalini activation of other levels of awareness:
I went through this process in public without understanding what the hell was happening to me. When eventually the nature and effects of the kundalini awakening were explained, 'it made complete sense of what I had experienced, although the emotional debris around me was no less painful.
Figure 1 The human 'chakra' or vortex system that interpenetrates our levels of being. The balance point is the heart chakra and when that is closed or imbalanced we disconnect from our Infinite Self and become dominated by the 'five-sense' mind.
Every bridge to the 'past' was ablaze and there was no going back. Not that I wanted to. A mess as my life seemed to be, something inside drove me on. I was not going to run. I knew that this was all meant to be, but why and to what end? After about three months the storm in my mind began to subside and I became 'normal' once again. Well, on the surface I did. Inside I was transformed. What happened to me on that mound in Peru began to integrate with that level known as 'David Icke' and I realized that I could see much that I hadn't seen before.
I was looking through the same eyes and hearing through the same ears, but what I saw and heard were dramatically different. I began to see beyond the movie, the conditioned version of reality that those in power sell us as the 'truth'. I could see the manipulation with an increasing clarity and, as my understanding expanded, I could see that the world was not just a little bit different to what we had been led to believe. It was nothing like it. The 'world' we thought to be real was simply a manufactured illusion.
But why and by whom' or by what?
In mid-1991 my feet were back on the ground, but, of course, all the public and media remembered were the crazy days of my very public transition. Once you are labeled and placed in the pigeonhole, that's it. Once 'crazy' always 'crazy', black and white, no shades of grey. The ridicule and laughter continued wherever I went and the 'normal' course of action would have been to keep my head down. Instead I embarked on a speaking tour of British universities, aware of what my reception would be.
Did I want to go?
Of course not (five-sense mind). Did I know it was necessary? Yes (Infinite consciousness). The events were sold out sometimes weeks in advance because these 'decision makers of tomorrow' came to laugh and ridicule. One night it was 15 minutes before I could start to speak because of the uproar, noise and beer cups thrown at the stage.
I waited for this to die down and then I said:
You could hear a pin drop. It had dawned on them that their behavior was not a statement about me, but about them. It is a revelation we would all do well to remember: what we do and say is not a reflection of those we ridicule and condemn, but of ourselves. I was heard in respectful silence for the rest of that night, apart from a small group at the back near the bar who continued to heckle in the darkness.
I asked for the lights to be switched on so everyone could see where the noise was coming from and I asked for a microphone to be taken to the group so they could say what they wanted to say in the full view of the audience. You would have thought the mike was on fire such was the vehemence of their refusal to take it. These talks to university students showed me so much about myself and also the conditioned human responses that imprison both perpetrators and their targets. It confirmed that I had purged my concern with what other people thought of me because no matter how I was received I really didn't give a damn any more.
What a freedom that is. I began to see what an illusion I was living in and how the entire human race, except for a few, was caught in a virtual reality game that dictated the rules. I had to smile to myself in this period whenever I was interviewed by a British TV host called Eamonn Holmes, a guy I knew from my days in television. He could not get his head around why anyone would give up a successful career in TV to do what I had done.
The fact that television was not the be all and end all of life, or that such a version of 'success' was illusory, seemed beyond his comprehension:
Right 'time', right 'place'
I embarked upon a daily journey of often staggering synchronicity in which I would meet people or have experiences that would continually increase my appreciation of what was actually going on in the world and the nature of life itself. Alongside this have been the thoughts that have suddenly appeared in my mind about people and events that later are shown by hindsight or 'five-sense' research to have been correct.
I have been guided with a synchronistic
precision that is often breathtaking. Without this, I could never
have compiled so much information and made so many connections so
quickly. There is a force that wants to open the mind of humanity,
that's for sure. It has certainly opened mine and I am passing on
what I discover to those who wish to hear.
The tickets were bought through the box office like everyone else and I walked up the steps into the arena to find my seat. I had a friend who worked on the show and when I reached the top of the steps I was surprised to see her standing there. She was looking bewildered and bemused. She said she should have been backstage, but had felt intuitively to come and wait for me. While she waited she had overheard a security guard say the "security seats" were row S numbers 25, 26, 27 and 28. I could now understand why she was bemused because she knew from an earlier conversation that the tickets for a mutual friend and me were row S 25 and 26.
I was in the 'security' seats? What was going on?
She also said that she had never seen these security people before because they were not the ones that normally worked at the theatre. I decided to go to the seats and see what happened. By now it was only minutes to the start of the show and the arena was packed, but when I reached row S it was empty from end to end. Spooky.
I sat down with the mutual friend and suddenly the people in front of us began to turn around and look to the back of the theatre. When I looked I could see a ring of heavies coming down the stairs surrounding someone and there were flash cameras going off like machine gun fire among the audience. Clearly someone famous was involved here. This entourage then stopped at the far end of my empty row and the people inside the circle of security men began to walk towards me. As they got closer I could see that it was President Jimmy Carter and his wife who proceeded to sit down beside me in the other two security seats!
Unbelievable.
According to the newspapers I read the next day, Carter was in Ireland to meet with the then Irish President, Mary Robinson, and had taken the opportunity to see Riverdance. And here were he and his wife sitting next to me in 'security seats' when my tickets had been bought in the same way as every other member of the audience that night and no-one at the theatre knew who they were for. I stood up and shook Carter's hand because something urged me to look into his eyes.
To my astonishment, and I can only describe this from my own experience, it was like looking into an empty shell. It seemed to me that there was no one home and it was a weird experience.
I resisted the urge to tell him I had a book out soon that he might like to read. I sat there contemplating the hilarious thought that here I was sitting in security seats next to an American president I was exposing in my books while surrounded by CIA security men. I couldn't watch the show for a while because I was laughing so much.
Higher consciousness, as I have experienced many times, has a terrific sense of humor. This is the kind of 'coincidence' that has happened constantly since I began to follow my heart in 1990 and investigate what was really happening in this world, who was really in control and to what end. When people ask how I have compiled so such information in these subjects, this is how.
I don't have to look for it; it comes to me.
As I was told in those early days:
This is not to say it is easy. It takes a tremendous amount of work and commitment and some days my head could explode with all the information that needs to be processed, assimilated and fitted together. But it is this guiding force that makes it possible to lift a veil of secrecy that is desperate to remain hidden from public view and has managed to be so for thousands of years.
On my part it has been vital that I have followed my intuition at all times because that is the means through which the higher consciousness 'speaks' to all of us if we are prepared to listen. If my intuition says I must go here, do something or meet a person, this is what I do. No questions, no consultations with the 'logical' head, I just do it.
There is always a good reason, either
obviously at the time or with hindsight, for why that action was
necessary.
At the same time I heard people say that I was "only doing it for the money".
My determination to continue was seriously challenged in this period, I can tell you. It all seemed so pointless, but that inner 'knowing' never left me and constantly assured me that all would be well. So it has turned out. Even when I was earning little or no money through most of the 1990s I managed through out-of-the blue invitations to visit more than 40 countries.
This helped me to compile an increasingly vast library of information about the background, methods and personnel behind the global manipulation that I had begun to see was no wacky 'theory', as portrayed by the media. At first the information was mostly about the manipulation of the 'five-sense' reality -the one we daily experience.
It was about names, dates, people and the secret connections between the apparently unconnected. Later the journey revealed to me the other-dimensional expression of the manipulation and I realized that the manipulators in physical 'bodies' are pawns of a force that most people cannot see with the severe limitations of the human senses. I have written a long series of books through these years since the publication of Truth Vibrations.
They include Heal the World, Days of Decision, The Robots' Rebellion, And The Truth Shall Set You Free, I Am Me I Am Free, The Biggest Secret, Children of the Matrix and Alice in Wonderland and the World Trade Center Disaster, Why the Official Story of 9/11 is a Monumental Lie.
Since the latter years of the 1990s I have had fantastic support from a great guy called Royal Adams, who's planning and organization has made possible the publication of many of my books against the financial odds. Especially since the publication of The Biggest Secret in 1999, there has been a gathering of interest in what I am communicating.
My website, www.davidicke.com attracts millions of visits a month and my talks all over the world enjoy large and rapidly-growing attendances. It is all a long way from the time I spoke at a venue near Chicago to eight people or had to cancel events to avoid having to talk to myself. People are beginning to wake up and I have almost been a barometer of this with the interest in my own work.
One of the first things I was told about in 1990, in fact the very theme of Truth Vibrations, was that a transformation, an awakening, of human consciousness was upon us and I can no", see this manifesting more obviously every day. It is not the majority yet, but we are getting there. Minds, or more importantly hearts, are opening to a truth that we all know, but have been manipulated to forget. I will now describe the multi-levels of the global and cosmic conspiracy as they have been revealed to me since the mound in Peru.
Firstly, I was led to the five-sense information of how the world we see is being manipulated towards a global fascist state; this was followed with the revelations about the other-dimensional control of the five-sense manipulators; and then, in the Amazon rainforest in 2003, I was shown how and why our daily experience is only a dream of our own making. It was in Brazil that my mind-was opened to an even greater appreciation of the human plight and the amazing transformation that is going to take us home.
This knowledge is the key to our freedom
and I will go into that in considerable detail later.
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