Saturday 25 January 2014

Natural Co-Creators Show





Friday 24 January 2014

Natural Co-Creators Show





Monday 20 January 2014

Beauty and the beast - Mr. Gee, Poet, Britain UK





Natural Co-Creators Show





Natural Co-Creators Show





Natural Co-Creators Show





Monday 13 January 2014

Waking Up

An Extract from Liberty Angel by Jennifer Lynch



WAKING UP

     The sun streamed through the windows and from under the duvet Gemma slowly raised her head.  She could feel the cold air on the tip of her nose.  She surveyed Louise’s clothes which were piled on the small chest of drawers and hoped that she’d not crumpled them, fearing another drama! She found her own clothes strewn across the bare floor boards and she grabbed them as quickly as possible. There was no sound from Rob who was obviously still sleeping off a combination of red wine and weed.  She slowly tiptoed down the stairs.  She didn’t bother about breakfast or a cup of tea because she just wanted to make a hasty exit.  To Gemma’s surprise the door was bolted. Louise couldn’t have got in even if she tried! She quickly undid the locks and stood out in the sunshine.  The world looked a different place.  It looked like the small town she recognised instead of a seedy twisted mess of emotions.  It was clear in her mind now what she had to do.  She had to cut these people off.  This also meant cutting John off which she knew would be really difficult for her but she had to do it to save herself and her children.  She really felt the urge to speak to him to find out what had happened last night, but decided it would be extremely weak.  If she really couldn’t stand not talking to him by later that week, she would telephone him instead.  Either way, she was going to try her best to keep her distance.  It would be a lot easier now because she felt angry about Louise.  The thought of them both together made her stomach retch.  She hadn’t eaten much for ages and the emptiness inside her, needed to be filled with toast and coffee.  Perhaps then, she would start to feel a little more human.
 She found her car outside John’s house but there was no way she was calling on the door to see the result of last night’s party.  She got in to her little blue car and drove home.  She had the rest of the day to pull herself together.  She would be ready for the girls and she would be smiling.  Gemma knew that she was a good mother and she was determined that from now on her life would be good.  She did some tasks around the home and she decided that she had to go to bed early. She felt absolutely exhausted from the party and lack of sleep and by eight thirty she was already settled in bed.  She knew that if she did not catch up with her sleep that she would not be able to cope with the return of the children and the familiar Monday morning routine.  As soon as the children went up to bed, she knew that she would be going as well. 
 Gemma woke about 2 a.m.  She was covered with sweat and her heart was racing. She had experienced the strangest dream.  It was more vivid than a dream. It was more like a vision or visitation.  She had travelled through a huge mirror in time.  She had smashed the mirror so that she could step right through to the other side.  She had been given the opportunity to see much further and more clearly than she’d experienced in her life before.  As Gemma walked through the mirror, she saw a woman smiling at her and she was made aware that she was in a cave.  It was very dark in the cave but the woman was pointing to a deep well.
 “Don’t you know me Gemma? You came here when you were ten years old and made a wish in my well.  You wished that your mother would be well.  She is well now, isn’t she?” asked the old woman.
Gemma thought hard, where was she?  Was she awake or in a dream?  There was something very familiar about the woman but Gemma was finding it very hard to recognise who she was.  She appeared to be friendly enough and she was trying to tell her something.  The woman was telling the truth she had been to her cave as a child.  Gemma’s mother did suffer from a long term illness. She decided to listen to what she was being told because it seemed important.  Gemma never thought that her mother was ‘well’ because there was no cure for her medical condition and her life had changed. Perhaps she was wrong, was it an illusion? Her mother was happy and she made the best of her limitations.  She had come to terms with her illness. She seemed happy enough and recently she had discovered how to paint.  Her oil paintings were amazing. She had also adapted to her lack of mobility.  She had found her own magic by discovering her creativity.  Gemma realised that healing was often more to do with the soul, than the physical body.  The woman told her that the physical body was just a vessel, part of our journey but the soul is eternal.  There are many ways to be happy and so many reasons to live. Sometimes, people come to terms with their limitations and they learn to embrace another part of their life. Perhaps adapting to the restrictions of ill health and moving into acceptance was part of the healing process. What is healed? Surrendering to ‘what is possible’ by developing what you can do, instead of dwelling on the past, is all part of our healing journey.  In essence her mother was already healed.
Gemma looked into the deep well.  The water looked black.  It felt as if time had completely stopped.   She stood exactly where she made her wish as a ten year old child when she wished her mother would get well. The water dripped onto her face and the droplets fell as huge tears.  She realised that she hadn’t been seeing the truth about her mother, nor had she been seeing the truth in other situations in her life.  Perhaps she had only been able to see a very limited version of the truth, not the whole picture. Images of her life flashed through the deep waters of the well.  She observed the illusions which she had naively created. What was she doing?  Why did she bother being friends with people who were no more than mirrors reflecting her own negative emotions?  She plunged deep into the water into the depths of her being and saw that the people around her were mere droplets of water.  They were her teachers, teaching her about herself.  She saw it now.  She had attracted people who were no good for her because of her own negativity.  Part of her wanted to stay in the illusion of helplessness.  She wanted to be a victim and blame everything on her personal circumstances.   She didn’t want to take control.
     “I can’t look anymore” she told the woman.
     “You know the truth Gemma. You must learn to listen to your heart. You think that the world we live in is real, but most of what we believe is illusion.  Break free now.  Go from these people who are tricking and fooling you.  They can’t give you anything you haven’t got already,” she smiled at her and then was gone.
     This was madness, why dream about the cave after all these years?  The witch wasn’t real, she was a spirit.   Had she been speaking to the spirit of this witch?  It sounded mad but then again, she felt comforted.  It was if this woman was looking after her for some reason?  Gemma realised that there were so many things that she didn’t know and one of these things was definitely earth magic.  She felt quite extraordinary as if she existed in many dimensions. 
She knew that her wish had been powerful and it had been granted but until this point, she hadn’t been able to see the truth.  She also realised that she had spent too much time living in fantasy.  She was going to change and she needed to change fast!
Gemma still felt tired but she went downstairs to get some breakfast.  It felt as if she had experienced a ‘dark night of the soul’.  Many things had been revealed to her, good and bad.  It had moved her greatly and she vowed that she wouldn’t forget about the profound experience.  She decided that she would tidy the house today and then go for a walk in the wood.  The wood was very close to the house with an entrance about two hundred metres away.  Gemma loved it. She found that when she was anxious or wanted to lose herself, the wood was therapeutic. There were so many different paths.  She was still looking for new ones she hadn’t walked along because she wanted to explore.  Sometimes she would get lost and take a wrong turn, but the wood was small and it you took the wrong turning, invariably she’d come out at a place which she recognised.  She loved the smell of the bark and the pine, the damp earth under her feet and the sounds of the birds in the tree tops.  The wood itself was old, but not ancient.  She knew that there were other woods which were far older, if she wanted to travel by car.  Walking around the woods always made her feel as if she was moving in the right direction and ironically the wood was called East Field.  She decided that she was not going to waste any more time thinking about John. He could get on with it!  If he wanted women like Louise, then there were plenty of them around.  Gemma suddenly realised that he was relatively unimportant to her.  The desire to run to his house was beginning to ebb.  It was incredible and it was magic!  She had been shown something far greater.  She now knew that she was capable of looking after herself. It was also nice to know that if she chose the wrong path, someone would whisper in her ear and help bring her back to her centre. Gemma breathed deeply. When she was focused she knew everything went well for her.  If she didn’t take the time to meditate her life soon became chaotic.  She knew that she had to listen to herself because she was determined to make a huge leap forward in her life, come hell or high water!





Sunday 12 January 2014

Skin Deep by Jennifer Lynch


 REBECCA’S BABY

“Just sign the paper,” said the Reverend Mother. 
“The longer you leave it the harder it will become.  You know that if you don’t sign it you will never return home and you want to go home don’t you?  You are lucky, there are many girls in here that will never get the chance to return home.  Jane is going back to her flat in east London all on her own.”

Rebecca looked at Jane.   Her back was turned she was pretending to be asleep but Rebecca knew that she was crying as she had adopted that position for the last three days.  She couldn’t eat; she would only drink because the Nuns insisted that unless she had something soon, she wouldn’t be allowed to go home. They would have to send for the doctor for another medical examination.  They were always saying you wouldn’t be allowed home.  I will just walk out thought Rebecca but the pains across her abdomen were at times severe and she still felt weak.  Her uterus was still contracting and it was made worse by the fact that she was being forced to breast feed. 
“Please don’t show me her” shouted Rebecca immediately after the birth but it was too late.  After the baby left her body and the afterbirth was removed, she glanced across and saw the nurse holding her baby in a white cloth and she felt she had to ask the nurse to bring her baby closer.


“Are you sure, it is really not such a good idea for you to bond with the baby we can bottle feed her if you like it might be easier that way.”
“Please just bring her to me” said Rebecca
She found it to be perfectly natural to put her child to her breast. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.  She had never expected to feel like this, she was a miniature her!   A tiny Rebecca and every part of her felt as if it was in her child.   Her breath, her heart and her blood, like a miracle she alone had kept her alive for nine whole months and given her life.  She had screamed and yelled and asked for more gas and air but the pain had turned from agony to a glow of life force, which joined them together and felt almost sacred.   Once that bond was formed she knew that no one could ever take it away from them so strong was the union of mother and daughter.   
“If I sign my name, will I ever see her again”, asked Rebecca.
“No” said the Reverend Mother you knew that we did explain to you from the start that it wouldn’t be easy and you agreed.
“I didn’t know how I would feel”, replied Rebecca helplessly.
“Feelings, can’t come into it,” said the Reverend Mother sharply
” We have to put the child’s needs first not yours.”
“You are unable to look after the child, she continued. There are families who are much more suitable than you to take care of her.  You do want the best for your child don’t you?”
Rebecca looked over to the doorway to see if she could catch a glimpse of Bridgette but Bridgette had become a muffled cry along with all the other twenty or so babies. Bridgette had become a statistic, Mother unmarried, father unknown. 

Rebecca fingered her bus ticket.  The bus jolted her from side to side along the country bends.  It was an hour’s journey to the city from the home.  She felt as if she was in the middle of a bad dream, the worst nightmare she could ever have or would ever experience in her lifetime.  Wrapped tightly in a shawl cradled in her arms and half leaning on her lap was Bridgette.  Bridgette, why did she call her that? It had been a name she wanted to be called herself but never was.  What will happen to little Bridgette after today?  She could feel the warmth from the baby’s body on her lap and feel her breathing just ever so slightly.  Did anyone know why she was on this bus the number 46 to Westminster and won’t they all wonder what happened to the baby if they saw her later on.  What happened to my baby but then they’ll think she isn’t mine I was just looking after her today but they are wrong because she will always be mine, where ever she goes and whatever happens to her in the future, she will always be mine.  We have a golden cord, which connects us.   No one can see it or feel it, only us but it is there and it can’t be broken.  It was there from the beginning when she first breathed life into her lungs and it will still be there when her life is extinguished.


It started to rain gently on the windows.  Rebecca wanted to trace her fingers along the raindrops like she did when she was a child.  Which one would run the fastest, which one would reach the bottom of the window and what happened to the others?  What happened to the lost raindrops, the ones that got diverted along the way?   The ones that met up with other raindrops and didn’t make it to the bottom just didn’t make it.   Like me thought Rebecca I’m just not going to make it I am one of the lost raindrops.
“I want to get off at the next stop please driver,” she said in the loudest voice she could muster. 
“The next stop Miss yeah course.” He replied.

Rebecca waited until the bus stopped before she struggled off with her heavy bag over one shoulder and the baby clasped firmly to her by the other arm. The huge step off the bus caused her to jolt and for a few minutes she almost lost her balance.  She became aware of how weak she still was.  She had in fact been in St. Catherine's Maternity Home for nearly two months.  She was admitted late being in full labour.  Some girls went in early the ones who were frightened of going into labour on their own but Rebecca had gone way beyond that stage, she thought that if she left it until the last minute, perhaps it might not happen at all, or she would wake up from this nightmare and there was no longer a baby inside her.  Her mind had just been playing tricks. 

The Streets of London were crowded.   Dust flew up into her face and she kept the shawl firmly wrapped around the baby.  She was unable to look at her watch but she guessed it was about lunchtime as she could see people entering and leaving cafes.  Men in business suits walking rapidly as if they were late back from business lunches.
Her eyes caught a glimpse of Big Ben through the houses, quarter past one.  She had quarter of an hour for the short walk to Banbury Street where the main office of the adoption Society was.  She was to be met by a Social Worker called …she couldn’t remember her name but never mind.  Baby Bridgette started to wake, soon she will be crying and want her bottle thought Rebecca I better hurry up.  She walked briskly and her heart raced faster.  If I get on another bus now I can get away she thought.  I just can’t do this but if I don’t go through with it but what then?  She thought of her parents and her brother, she would only be allowed back home to Ireland on her own. What would they do if they saw her with a baby!  She knew that she could spend the rest of her life on her own without her family.  Tears began streaming down her face, this is no good, thought Rebecca, I Just can’t, and I don’t want to, this isn’t right…
Mrs. Neave stood in the doorway of number 12 Banbury Street                
“You must be Rebecca,” she enquired kindly.

“Yes, Madam” said Rebecca in a small voice.
“And this is?
“Bridgette” said Rebecca finally finding her voice.
“Bridgette we have a lot of Bridgette’s.  Do come this way dear; we don’t have a lot of time.”

Mrs. Neave led Rebecca into a largish room with an old leather sofa.  Everything in the room smelt of polish, the sofa, the walls, which were made of panelled wood and the floor, which was black and white, tiled and highly glossed.  There was a copy of the Times on the edge of the sofa.   Who would read that thought Rebecca at a time like this and she pushed it to one side? 
“Now dear, I will take down a last few details as we have the report on um. Bridgette from the St. Catherine’s and then I can perhaps hold Bridgette for you whilst you sort out your things. Would that be alright?” she said in a sympathetic tone.
When there was no reply from Rebecca she continued to talk not caring whether she replied or not.
“When was the baby last fed?” she asked.
Rebecca’s mind turned over and over her throat-felt fixated she could hardly talk and she was beginning to find it difficult to breath and she started to cough repeatedly.

Read more of Skin Deep on Amazon

Thursday 9 January 2014

Natural Co-Creators Show with Jennifer Lynch


Coming soon ...


Are you a natural creator?  Do you have an inspiring message to share?  I'm looking
for people who have positive messages for the future.  I am keen to hear from therapists,
healers, writers, artists, singers and entertainers who would like to be interviewed for this
new and dynamic show.

Starting 24th January so please get in touch if you are interested.  Interviews will be by way of podcasts and can be uploaded and shared via social networking such as facebook, twitter, google plus, pin interest and many more.






Watch this space for updates on the show



Jennifer Lynch
message me via my website
www.angelwisdom.co.uk

Thursday 2 January 2014

Jennifer Lynch - Angel Wisdom - Events 2014


Jennifer Lynch (Angel Wisdom)  will be at the following events giving Angelic Aura Readings

If you would like to book an appointment prior to the day please message her

via this website or her facebook

Saturday February 8, 2014 10 – 4 pm
Purple Feather Events Mbs Holistic Fair Stanway
Stanway Village Hall, Villa Rd, Stanway. CO3 0RH
Another great event at this fab location near Colchester, with easy access off A12.

Lots of therapies to pamper you. Tarot/Angel/Palm readers to give you some insights into your life. Plenty of retail stalls to treat yourself. Aura photos. Loads more too.

Free workshops all day

£2 entry (under 16s free)

hot & cold Food all day

For more information please contact www.purplefeatherevents.co.uk

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Saturday 1st March

Clare Hubert - Sensitive Souls

10-4 – Mind Body and Spirit Fair – Needham Market Community Centre, 23 School Street, Needham Market, Suffolk, IP6 8BBwww.SensitiveSouls.co.uk

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15th and 16th March, 2014 - 10 – 5 pm

Dianne Brannan

www.DianneBrannan.com

At The City Academy, Bluebell Road, Norwich, Norfolk

This is a 2 day Mind, Body,Soul healing exhibition which is held in Norwich, with over 60 stands offering a varied range of complementary therapies and products.

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5th and 6th March 2014 – 10 – 5 pm

Chris Cozens

WOODBRIDGE MBS FESTIVAL 2014

10am-5pm Saturday & Sunday 5-6th April 2014 –
Woodbridge Community Hall, Station Road, Woodbridge, Suffolk IP12 4AU

For more details please see

http://www.lifearts.co.uk/woodbridge-mbs-festival/

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JENNIFER WILL ALSO BE GIVING ANGEL CARD READINGS at

The Hadleigh Healing Centre on the 8th March to raise money for

the Centre £5 a reading! This is an amazing opportunity to have

a 15 minutes reading at a reduced price for a really good cause

http://www.hadleighhealingsociety.org/

MORE EVENTS TO FOLLOW!